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luveline · 3 months

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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.

“I wanna see Max.”

“She has to be here somewhere.”

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

Steve frowns at you worriedly.

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.

“Is it awful?” you ask.

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.

“Dustin. He’s outside.”

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?”

“Like you like him.”

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.

“Looks like something. Are you dating?”

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”

“He was touching you a lot.”

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.

Oh, boy, you think.

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”

“Steve.”

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.

“What?” he asks.

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”

“I sounded weird?”

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.

“You were in the way of the light.”

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.

“It’s good.”

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.”

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”

“I thought…” And of course he did.

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.

“Yeah.”

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.

“I like you too!” he says loudly.

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.

“You okay?” he asks tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”

You nod vehemently.

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.”

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.

“You can be my parasol.”

“Your what?”

“It’s a sun umbrella.”

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”

“That’s perfect.”

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.

“No… I’m thinking.”

“Nothing good ever comes of that.”

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.

“It’s a question.”

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke.

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

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harrysfolklore · 9 months

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love on tour memories - blurb

goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. you were bigger than the whole sky 😢 here’s a compilation of love on tour memories, some blurbs are new and some were already posted, i hope you like this trip down memory lane

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

september 4th, 2021 - las vegas, nevada

Feather boas, pink hats and colorful flags all around could only mean one thing.

Harry Styles was finally back on tour.

After a long two year wait, Love On Tour was finally hitting the road, with the first stop being the iconic Las Vegas, Nevada.

You were beyond ecstatic to say the least, being on the road with Harry was your favorite thing to do, and you knew how much he wanted to finally be doing his favorite thing in the world again.

You were roaming around backstage looking for your boyfriend, already wearing your custom red dress that would match Harry's outfit for the night.

"Love! You look stunning," Lambert's voice made you turn your head, "That dress fits you perfectly just like I knew it would." You blushed as you walked together towards where Harry was getting ready with his bandmates in a few minutes.

"You're too nice, Lamby," you smiled at him, "Is he going shirtless like I asked? I couldn't be with him while he was getting ready."

"He is, darling. He said your wish was his command."

You rolled your eyes with affection; and as if on cue, Harry entered the room exuding an aura of confidence and excitement.

He was dying to get on stage.

"Hey, love," he approached you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "Can you believe it? We're finally here."

You looked at him fondly, your eyes giving away how proud and excited you felt at the moment, "We're finally here," you repeated, "This is going to be the best tour ever."

Harry pressed a quick peck to your lips before turning his attention to the rest of his bandmates, who were gathered in the room.

"Alright, everyone," Harry announced, his voice full of enthusiasm. "This is it, the first night of Love On Tour," Jeff, who just entered the room with the rest of Harry's managers, let out a whistle in excitement. "Let's make it one to remember."

The band hugged quickly before walking down the corridor that would take them to the stage.

You walked by Harry's side, holding his hand and realizing how much you missed the tour life.

"Good luck kiss?" Harry turned to you as you reached what would be his 'soft goods' box for the next months.

"Wouldn't turn it down for the world." You smiled and connected your lips, and just like that he was off to the stage inside a storage box.

For the next two hours, Harry and his bandmates poured their hearts on stage for the first time in two years, and by the end of the night, everyone had the same thought in their minds.

This was going to be a tour to remember.

october 30th, 2021 - new york

Outside of Madison Square Garden, fans were lining up dressed in their costumes of all kind, excited to be part of Harry's fancy dress party to celebrate Halloween.

However, backstage at the arena you were was growing increasingly curious and impatient about Harry's costume choice, since everyone refused to tell you about it.

"I can't take it anymore!" You said, your eyes darting between everyone in the room. "Somebody, please tell me what Harry's going dressed as!"

Jeff chuckled, entertained by your growing desperation to know. "Oh, YN, you're in for a treat. Harry's going all out, you're going to be gagged"

"Come on, you have to give me something!" Your eyes traveled to Lambert, hoping he would crack up and tell you what you desperately wanted to know.

"Nope, and don't give me those eyes. Sue strictly told us to keep it as a surprise."

You rolled your eyes before standing up and walking towards the door. "Well, I guess I'll try to bribe him with a blowie again.

Everyone in the room laughed at your words, and before you could even reach Harry's dressing room you were intercepted by Harry's assistant Luis, who told you that he instructed him to keep you out of the room until he was ready.

You got into your own costume for the night, a fairy dress with wings and a crown, you put extra effort in your makeup adding glitter and some gem stones.

You heard two knocks to your door followed by Jeff's voice "YN, you ready? Harry is and he wants to see you."

"God, why is he being so dramatic about his costume," you opened the door as you spoke and once you were met with Jeff and his costume, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Miss Anna Wintour, the Toms are going like this too," he shrugged and walked towards Harry's dressing room, you following behind, "Come on now, your annoying boyfriend is waiting for you."

"You ready love?" you heard Harry's voice from the other side of the door, not opening yet.

"Come on just come out already! I need to see you!"

And after a few more seconds of mystery, he finally opened the door and you were met with his blue dress and bright red shoes.

He was Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.

"Harry! This is- you look amazing!"

"Really? You like it?" he put his hands on his waist and tilt his head before giving a twirl and making you laugh.

"I love it, but I have one concern, tho."

"And that would be?" he looked at you questioningly.

"That skirt is too short! You're going to flash your bits to everyone!"

"Well, my love," he grabbed the hem of his dress, pulling it up, "That is what the bloomers are for!"

june 18th, 2022 - london, uk

"How do you feel, mate?" Jeff asked Harry as they stood together on the wings of the stage, Mitski was just done with her set and Harry was already on his outfit for the show, minutes away from hitting the stage.

"It's a weird feeling somehow," Harry turned his gaze to his manager and best friend, "I never thought I was going to ever be able to fill this place on my own, you know?"

"And here we are, two sold out shows!" Jeff threw his fist in the air as a sign of celebration and both of them laughed, side hugging as they kept admiring the crowd.

"Are you guys having a sappy sentimental moment without me?" they tuned their heads towards the voice called for them, that belonged to you.

"I was just about to leave, actually, I have to check everything's running smoothly before this one hits the stage," Jeff ruffled Harry's hair for a moment, "You lovebirds enjoy your pre-concert shag, see you out there!"

You and Harry rolled your eyes and shook your heads, all the times you got caught doing your shenanigans before the shows resulting in a constant teasing from your friends.

"So, how do you feel, rockstar?" you asked, getting closer to him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

"You know, Jeff just asked the same thing."

"Okay, no talking, straight to the pre-concert shag I guess!"

Harry laughed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you looked out at the crowd together.

"I feel great," Harry said, turning his face to the side to lock his eyes with yours, "Being here again and having you by my side is something that I thought would only happen in my dreams, so I feel great my dreams came true again."

"This is a time where I actually feel good saying that I told you so," you smiled softly, "I always knew that you were going to be selling out this places on your own, baby. And I'm so proud of you."

"I know," Harry pecked yours lips for a moment, "And that's the reason why I'm here, because you had never allowed me to doubt myself."

"You're here because you've earned it by working hard and pouring your heart out in everything that you do, there's no one who deserves this as much as you do."

Harry's eyes got watery at your words, and he grabbed youe face to connect your lips, expressing everything he felt at the moment with a kiss.

"10 minutes till show time!" One of the crew members announced, making you break apart.

"Go sing about fruit and joke about dads, rockstar. I love you."

"Love you more, lovey."

And with a final kiss to your lips he was off to perform, ready to charm a crowd of 80,000 people on his own, something that he never though he would achieve.

september 21st, 2022 - new york

Emotions were all over the place at Madison Square Garden’s backstage, the clinking of champagne glasses along with congratulatory speeches were heard all around the room as a way to celebrate the 15 sold out shows at the world’s most famous arena.

The grin on Harry’s face was evident as he thanked everyone who approached him to applaud his milestone, from his friends to the arena’s crew, and holding his own glass of champagne and wearing a small smile, his eyes started wandering around for you.

It was when he reached the now empty pit of the arena when he found you, just a few hours prior, the room was filled with feather boas, glittery hats and more than twenty thousand people who came together to celebrate him. Right now, it was just you and him, looking up at the brand new addition to the arena.

“HARRY STYLES. 15 CONSECUTIVE NIGHTS AT THE GARDEN”

Was what the arena’s brand new banner said, a banner that would permanently stay there, as a reminder of what your boyfriend had achieved.

“You know I wouldn’t have done it without you, right?” he said as he approached you, bringing you closer by wrapping both of his arms around your waist, leaning his chin of your shoulder “All these songs are about you, all of this is because of you, my love.”

You smiled, the feeling of elation increasing at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his cheeks before you spoke “This is all you, you did this, baby,” you said while looking into his eyes, and the fact that they were glossy and watery told you that he was still very emotional about the night’s events.

“Maybe I inspired you to write the songs, but the words aren’t mine, honey, they’re yours. All the people who filled those seats every night, they were here for you, because you have impacted their lives in ways no one else could. You deserve this, and I’m so proud and happy for you.” You finished, feeling your own eyes getting watery, still holding his face between your hands, and pressing your foreheads together.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you.” Harry chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your jaw and then nuzzle your neck, you put your hand on the back of his neck and caress his hair, letting him embrace you and holding him right back.

“I’m the lucky one, I mean, not everyone can say that their boyfriend has a banner permanently hung up high at Madison Square Garden, right?” you joked, feeling his laugh vibrate against your neck before he pulled his face out of it, looking into your eyes.

“I love you so much, YN.” he said looking right into your eyes, and his expressed what he had just said, you could feel the love radiate from him.

He’s walking joy, walking happiness, walking love

november 5th, 2022 - los angeles

From the moment you were woken up by the sound of Harry's dry coughs, you knew it was going to be a hard day.

Harry had been feeling under the weather the last couple of days, and today he was feeling his worst. As a professional, he pushed through, thinking it was just exhaustion from the intense schedule on tour.

However, as the day progressed, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of sickness off his body. His throat was sore, and his head felt heavy and he could barely sing during soundcheck, making his bandmates and managers worry about his health.

"Baby," you called out for him, caressing his hair softly, "Jeff just texted me that the doctor is here, he's going to check up on you."

Harry didn't verbally reply, he just stood up and kissed your forehead softly before leaving the room, you following close behind.

You knew what he was worried about the most: having to cancel the show.

The doctor examined Harry thoroughly and then delivered the unfortunate news, he had a severe throat infection and singing tonight could worsen it, so he had to cancel his upcoming shows.

He didn't speak, but you knew he was devastated.

After he delivered the news to his fans via an Instagram story, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek softly before speaking, "You did the right thing, Harry. Your fans love you, and they'll understand that your health comes first," you reassured him.

Jeff and Tommy, who were in the room too, nodded in agreement, "We'll handle the rescheduling and all the logistics. You just focus on resting and getting better," Jeff said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I'm so sorry, mate." and with a final pat to Harry's back, they were out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hey," you grabbed his chin, making him look at you, "Talk to me, love. What are you thinking?"

"I feel terrible, I hate disappointing the fans and I feel like I let everyone down."

You pressed a tender kiss to his temple again before speaking, "Your fans understand that you're human, just like everyone else. You're allowed to prioritize your well-being, and the fans will always be there for you, cheering you on, no matter what."

Harry gave you a tired smile and laid your head against your shoulder, and you felt proud of everything he does, even giving himself a break.

december 4th, 2022 - buenos aires, argentina

“Holy shit! Look at how packed that pit is already.” Harry said as he got a peek of the stadium, it was still early but fans were already inside and waiting for him.

“You know how much your fans here love you, baby. Tonight’s show is going to be crazy.” You rested your chin on his shoulder, looking at the crowd with him.

“It’s going to be one of the best, I can’t fucking wait.” Excitement was evident on his voice and you couldn’t help but melt a bit, the man you love was happy and that made you the happiest as well.

“They scored!” Anthony Pham’s voice made you turn your heads, a bunch of the crew members were watching the Argentina vs Australia match on a small tv, and the screams from the crowd just confirmed that their country had just scored.

“Wait, put the match on the big screens, let’s watch it together with the crowd.” Harry said and guys from the tech crew quickly put the match on the stadium screens, making fans grow excited.

By the end of the match and by a close call, Argentina won and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams, the entire staff celebrating too and hyping the crowd.

“Go celebrate with them baby! Go on!” you urged Harry to go on stage, “You know what? Fuck it!” and he ran to the stage and hyped the crowd, celebrating the victory with them

Argentina gave him one of his best tour memories already and the shows were still yet to happen.

february 20th, 2023 - perth, australia

“How are we feeling in here tonight Perth?” Harry said into the mic, looking out at the crowd cheering and screaming for him, “It’s been about 5 years almost since I last performed in Australia, feels so good to be back.”

The crowd erupted in cheers and screams, and you watched fondly as he moved around the stage.

“YN, my girlfriend, she loves to research each country we visit before the show," Harry pointed out to you and the nerves instantly hit you, despite being with him years, you still weren’t used to the spotlight and the attention. "She told me about some… peculiar traditions you guys do over here, like drinking out of a shoe.” Harry said and the audience went wild along with you, you knew his fans had been trying to get him to do a shoey since the last time he performed in the country and you insisted that he needed to finally do it.

“This is one of the most disgusting traditions I’ve ever heard of,” he paused to shake his head, “Fuck it,” and he proceeded to take his shoe off, making the entire audience roar in cheers.

“Can you do a Shoey with water or is that against the rules? YN?” the camera zoomed into you, putting your face in the big screens across the stadium, you couldn’t help but laugh and yell your responde, “She says no! Okay let’s just get this over with.”

And next thing you knew, Harry was drinking out of his shoe and the entire stadium was erupting in screams.

“I feel like a different person…I feel ashamed of myself. It feels so personal! Such an intimate moment to be shared with so many people!” at this point your belly hurt from how much you were laughing, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh as well, “I’ll be discussing this with my therapist at length…at length! And YN, you’re a terrible girlfriend for making me do this!”

Even though you were aware of the cameras catching your every reaction, you rolled your eyes with affection and jokingly flipped him off, making him blow an obnoxious kiss your way.

“Now, who’s ready for more music?”

march 26th, 2023 - tokyo, japan

“Everyone who knows me, knows how incredibly special this country is to me. I came here a few years ago for 5 days, and stayed a LOT longer than 5 days. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me in my whole life.” Harry said, looking out at the crowd in complete awe, “I’ve always felt that my time in here in Japan was incredibly special to me & I would not be able to make those 2 albums if it wasn’t for that time. So thank you the people of Japan for whatever it was that you gave to me. I will love you for it forever”

You couldn't help but shed a few tears, adoration running through your veins for the man who was currently closing up one of the most special legs of his world tour.

"However, unlike the last time I came here, I'm not on my own this time, I'm here with this incredible band who gives me the honor to play with them every night, the amazing crew who makes every show possible, and most importantly," he put a hand to his heart before continuing, "I'm here with the gorgeous woman I get to call my girlfriend, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world for that."

It was safe to say that you were full on crying by now, aware of fans and cameras catching your every move but not ashamed to be vulnerable because of the man you loved.

Harry turned to look at you on the side of the stage before speaking again, "I love you so much, baby, thank you for being my muse and my best friend, none of this would be possible without you."

And as if it was the first sentence you ever learned, you instantly mouthed and "I love you to Harry, making him grin and blush before speaking into the mic again.

"Thank you, Japan! I love you."

june 10th, 2023 - slane, ireland

Today was a day for the history books. Harry was going to make history as the first artist to ever perform in the iconic Slane Castle as a main performer for his own tour since 1985.

He brought up that he was offered the chance while you were snuggled in bed, listening to soft music that played from Harry’s record player.

“They offered me to perform at Slane Castle. You know, that venue where the only way to perform is if you get invited by Lord Henry.” Harry said casually as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Baby! That’s amazing!” you said in a cheerful tone, but the way Harry pursed his lips made you guess what was going on in his mind, “Don’t tell me you’re second guessing this, it’s a great opportunity.”

“I know, I know,” he said, pecking your forehead softly before continuing, “But everything’s pretty intimidating, there’s a lot to live up to.”

“And you will absolutely crush it. So call Jeffrey right now and tell him to book the gig.”

And so he did. And now, you were leaning on his dressing room’s vanity table, watching as he got ready for one of the biggest nights of this career.

“How do you feel?” you asked softly, you knew that his nerves always kicked in during this time.

“Nervous, happy, excited,” he turned to you, giving you a soft smile and tender eyes, “I just want this to be a memorable show, I don’t want anyone to leave the venue feeling like the show wasn’t good enough.”

“Everything’s going to be fine, gorgeous,” he smiled at the pet name, one of his favorites that you use for him, “Every single show that you’ve done ever since you were sixteen has been absolutely incredible, this one won’t be the exception.”

And instead of giving you a verbal reply, he crashed his lips into yours, pouring all of his feelings in a kiss.

“Hershel, time to hit the stage!” you were interrupted by Jeff knocking on the door.

“Oh cut it out, Jeffrey. We’re in the middle of my pre show shag.” Harry joked, making you throw your head back in laughter.

“You have two minutes, you menaces.” Jeff timed his eyes, already used to your shenanigans.

Your laughs died down and you looked directly into his eyes, caressing the hair at the base of his neck before speaking, “You’re going to deliver an amazing show, okay?” Harry only nodded, letting you continue, “You don’t have to meet anyone’s expectations, you just need to be your loving carefree self and everyone will have the best night of their lives.”

He pecked your lips before speaking, “Thank your for that, and for just being you, honestly,” he shook his head for a moment, “I wouldn’t have the courage to go out on stage every night if it wasn’t for you.”

“You would. Because you were born for this. Now go make me proud, rockstar.”

And with a final kiss to your lips, he was off with his band, ready to hit the stage of one of the most important nights of his career.

july 22nd, 2023 - reggio emilia, italy

The time had come to say goodbye to Love On Tour.

Surrounded by Harry's family and friends, you stood in the VIP area of the field watching Harry perform the last show of his biggest tour.

The night had been incredible so far, Harry pour his heart out performing just like he had been doing for the last two years, making the show extra special by adding new songs to the setlist and letting the crowd know how thankful he has for everything given to him.

"I will remember this evening and all of this for the rest of my life. Thank you for letting me be a part of this, thank you for dedicating your time to me, thank you for listening to me. Thank you for being amazing. Thank you for everything." Harry said into the mic, beginning with his final speech, one you knew would make you tear up.

"I have people here tonight who have supported me in so many ways over the past 13 years in which you can only imagine. I would not be on this stage without them and their love and support. My family are here tonight, my friends are here tonight," Harry's voice cracked up and his eyes got teary, making everyone in the crowd tear up along with him, "I was doing so well! Thank you for the support, thank you loving me for the way that you have. My friends are here tonight, thank you for having my back, always. I love you all so much. Thank you. I have a lot of things to feel incredibly lucky for in life but i feel the luckiest with my friends support. It allows me to do this. I am so full right now, I've never been happier in my entire life."

You held Anne's hand as you listened to his speech, both of you growing emotional at his words, just as the nearly 100,000 fans in the crowd.

"My girlfriend and life partner is here tonight, just like she was for all 169 previous nights, and all the most important moments of the last 13 years," eyes turned to you, but your attention was only on the man on stage, the one you loved, "I've said it countless of times before, but none of this would be possible without you. You're my best friend, my muse and my biggest supporter. Thank you for loving me, and giving me a love to write about. I love you."

You mouthed an "I love you" back to him, wiping some tears that kept falling from your eyes.

"Secondly, to you all," he turned to face his band, "Thank you so much for doing this with me, that you trust me, thank you for giving your time, your energy. This show is what it is because of everything you've done every night."

He continued his speech, thanking the fans for the same space they created over the years, and giving him the opportunity to be on stage every night doing what he loves the most.

After a 10 minute ballad written specially for the night, Love On Tour was officially over. But the memories created around it would last a lifetime.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles story #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harrysfolklore #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fan fiction #1k

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meiko333 · 1 year

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Resident Evil Icons

Like and/or reblog if you save/use

#resident evil #resident evil: death island #jill #jill valentine #claire #claire redfield #jill x claire #claire x jill #clairejill #valenfield #red valentine #lesbian #bisexual #headcanon #sparkly #glitter #icons #square icons #icons by me

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palioom · 4 months

Text

santa claus is comin' (to town)

summary: the children of Jackson aren't the only ones excited about Santa visiting.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; santa kink; unprotected p in v; creampie, lap sex

a/n: banners by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

Christmas in Jackson was a cheerful time. Allowing its residents some rest and peace in between the daily reminders of survival in a world overgrown by fungus.

There was a tree – a beautiful, tall fir – which they had felled in the surrounding woods and placed in the small town square, lit up with bright, colourful lights and hundreds of handmade decorations from the residents. Mostly made by children, as they learned to work with wood, just small figures like hearts and stars.

The houses and shops were decorated with just as much colour, lighting up everything around them.

And, Jackson even had its very own Santa.

Clad in all red, slightly yellowed fur trims on the sleeves of the shirt, the brim of the hat and on the hems of the pants. A nice, gray beard, and even a hint of Santa’s iconic, large belly.

Joel hadn’t really wanted to do it at first, eyeing the costume they had found on one of their runs with slight concern before he eventually relented. But only after Tommy had nagged at him a bit and Joel’s girl had sweet talked him into it.

The kids went wild for him, screaming and laughing when he walked down the streets, waving at them and laughing back. That really was when he had started to like it, seeing their eyes shine, prodding at the heavy sack slung over his shoulder – as well as his tummy.

To be honest, he had missed this a little, and it reminded him of how much Sarah loved to go down to the mall to tell Santa her Christmas wishes. Back when she was younger. He could still see her perched on Santa’s knee, the widest smile on her face as someone took their photo.

Now, it was him who had the kids whispering their wishes into his ear, just to squeal in delight when he pulled the requested toy or book from the brown sack next to him. A genuine smile on his face when one kid hopped off so the next could hop on.

It made her happy, too. Seeing the old man happy and laughing like this after he had grumbled about not really wanting to do it.

And to be honest, he looked good like this. It had been a fight to keep her hands off of him when he first tried on the costume. The longer beard he had grown out just for this suited him well, too, her mind wandering to how it would feel on the inside of her thighs.

And that belly.

She had teased him about it, asked if he had grown it just for this as well, something he answered with a grumpy look, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.

But she loved it, loved him a little bigger and so soft and warm.

All in all, Joel was just unbelievably hot. Even when dressed as Santa.

Especially when dressed as Santa.

So when she had to leave the event early to get dinner going while he stayed behind, she really couldn’t stop thinking about him. About him and that stupid but hot costume, wanting to sit on his lap and having him give her a very special gift as well.

One that only he could give her.

So when he finally came home over an hour later, she quickly made her way out of the kitchen and to the front door, catching him as he wanted to take off his hat.

“Leave it on.” She mumbled against his lips as her arms wrapped around his neck. His beard scratched against her skin and she could feel his arms encircle her waist. “There’s someone else who wants to sit on Santa’s lap.”

The low hum he let out quickly turned into a groan, his broad hands squeezing at her sides and hungrily kissing her back. He still found her love for this costume ridiculous, but Joel couldn’t deny that this whole thing was really hot.

“Wanna lay over Santa’s knee instead?” Joel asked, pushing her back into the living room, towards his favourite armchair.

She laughed, shaking her head when she parted from him for a moment.

“Mhmmm, no. I want to tell Santa my wish, too.”

His eyebrows shot up, a wide grin on his face that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Now that certainly was something.

Sitting down on the chair, he pulled her down onto his leg by her waist, spreading his legs wide. His cock was already pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of these stupid pants, excited about what she wanted to do.

Right back in his role, his gloved hands dipping beneath the hem of her turtleneck and grabbing her waist. All while she looked at him as innocently as she could, biting her bottom lip.

“Now, tell Santa,” Joel said, his voice dropping a few octaves, “have you been a good girl this year?”

She giggled, nodding her head. Oh, this was already better than what she could have imagined.

“Of course, Santa.” Her voice was sugary sweet when she replied. “I’m always a good girl.”

Joel chuckled, his grip tightening on her waist. His head flooded with images of her being anything but a good girl.

How dare she lie to Santa himself?

“Well, somebody told me that that’s a lie, angel.” He replied, his hands skirting higher over her sides, feeling the warmth of her through the gloves. “You’ve been a naughty girl, and naughty girls don’t get presents from Santa.”

Blood was already rushing in her ears, her eyes dropping down to the tent in his pants. She rubbed her thighs together, needing any kind of friction on her throbbing clit.

One of Joel’s large hands came out from beneath her top and smoothed over her thigh instead, dipping towards the inside before getting dangerously close to where she needed him the most. Hearing her breath hitch at the touch.

“But Santa, please.” She whined, putting on her best puppy eyes in an attempt to sway and convince him that she indee did deserve a present.

“Naughty girls get a very special something from Santa instead.” He whispered, his fingers finally pressing against her clothed pussy, making her moan. “‘Specially ones as naughty as you have been.”

Just rubbing back and forth, unable to feel if he found her clit through the thick gloves, but he was quite sure that he did with how she reacted to it.

“Do you want to know what that is?” He asked, growing impatient with how she whined and ground back into his fingers.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. She desperately needed to know and she hoped they both were on the same page here.

“Yes, Santa. Please.”

A small growl escaped Joel when he made her stand up, with her back to him, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of the sweatpants she wore before pulling them down. Exposing her ass clad in a lacy thong to him.

When he pulled her back into his lap, his dick ground against her ass, her legs spreading over his own. Joel held her by the hips, his own rutting up into her and making him moan, too.

There was no way he could handle this for long, lifting his hips to shimmy down his pants so his cock was free, hard and rubbing through the wetness that seeped through her underwear. Sliding it back and forth, hearing her soft moans whenever he nudged against her clit through the lace.

“You like what Santa got you?”

She hummed with a frenzied nod, her body so hot compared to the icy coldness outside. Her eyes were glued to his cock, watching the head become shinier with every rock of his hips - fat and angry and just waiting to be swallowed up by her greedy pussy.

“I love it, Santa, oh-” Biting her lip, she watched Joel take off his dark gloves, revealing his tanned, broad hands, the veins on the backs of them protruding. They moved to her panties, his fingers hooking into the lace and pulling them to the side.

Allowing his cock to slide against her bare pussy without any barriers.

This was an even better image, the head vanishing and coming back into view, nudging against her clit and making her squirm in his lap.

“All special, only for the naughtiest girls.” Joel chuckled, his breath hitching in his throat. She felt so nice and wet and he wasn’t even inside of that dripping pussy yet. He could come just like this, sliding through her folds, the image of it so lewd.

But the way she stared at it was almost lewder – wide, dark eyes, looking like she was about to jump off his lap and drop to her knees instead. He swore he could see a trickle of drool on one corner of those pretty lips, glistening in the light.

She couldn’t wait to have it inside of her, to feel the thick length of him spread her pussy open. As much as she liked the view of him like this, she reached for his cock with one hand, raising her hips as much as she could. Prodding against her entrance but not pushing in, she just felt the thick head resting there.

Joel’s chuckle vibrated against her back before she could hear it fall from his mouth, almost sounding like Santa himself – causing a new gush of wetness to release on him.

Fucking Santa on his lap hadn’t been something she thought to turn her on.

“You really are a naughty girl.” He said, close to her ear and shifting his hips. Just lightly feeding her the swollen tip, relishing in the sweet mewls she let out. “Looks like Santa has to punish you, hm?”

She barely listened, so focused on the feeling of him splitting her open as she slowly sank down on his hard cock. Feeling inch by inch enter her, until she was back in his lap again, one of his broad hands holding her hip while the other went to find her nipple beneath her shirt.

“So big, so big, fuck-” Her voice was small, her eyes still focused on where his cock was vanishing inside of her. Feeling impatient as he just kept her there and whining when he pinched her nipple. “Santa, please.”

His hips rocked up into her at the name. It was lewd, naughty, to have her call him Santa. But Joel couldn’t deny that it was fucking hot, too.

“You like Santa’s very special gift for naughty girls?” He asked, thrusting up into her again, his hand on her hip aiding her as she carefully began to move in his lap. Still teasing her nipple, pinching and twisting the little nub in between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Mhmm, yes, I love Santa’s gift.” She moaned, feeling the unbearable need to strip out of her clothes entirely, feeling the heat of his body against hers while her veins were on fire. “‘M gonna be a naughty girl every year, Santa.”

Joel chuckled, the sound strangled by the moan that creeped up his throat when her pussy gripped him tight. Obviously she was enjoying this whole game as much as he did, if not more.

Slowly he rocked up into her faster, watching her face contort in pleasure. But she never took her eyes off of his cock, watching her juices run down the length, frothing with each thrust.

“You already are the naughtiest.” Joel rasped, feeling his balls twitch as her pussy contracted around his cock again. Her moans and mewls became higher in pitch and she seemed to have trouble keeping up the rhythm she had set to match his. “Bouncing on Santa’s lap, creamin’ all over him.”

He accentuated his words with another pinch of her nipple, her back arching deliciously into his touch.

But soon he took away his hand from her breasts to rest on her other hip, helping to lift and slam her down onto his cock over and over as her movements became more erratic.

“Santa has even more gifts for you.” He teased, dancing dangerously close on the edge of his orgasm.

“Yes, yes yes.” She breathed out, whining. The slap of skin on skin echoed through the room, only spurring her on more as she watched him bury himself inside of her aching pussy again and again. “Please, Santa- Give it to me, give it all to me!”

Joel chuckled, his mouth attaching to the skin below her ear and biting down. His hands pushed her down hard just as his hips rocked up – pushing her over the edge she had been dancing on as well.

“Santa- Fuck!”

She gripped him like a vice, her hands finding his as her orgasm seared through her and Joel fucked her through it, his voice becoming darker.

“Like that, like that-” He mumbled, needing just a few more thrusts with how madly she was still pulsing around him. “Fucking naughty girl, strangling Santa’s cock- Oh, shit-”

Joel kept thrusting up as he spilled himself inside of her greedy pussy, filling her up as she writhed in his grip, her hips still erratic on top of him.

He couldn’t stop his cock from slipping out, a noise of protest leaving her which was quickly replaced with a moan as she watched the last few ropes of cum splash over her mound and the bottom of her shirt, the white in stark contrast to the dark fabric.

The view of his still swollen head gliding through her cum-covered pussy sent shivers through her as she came down from her high, hearing Joel’s heavy pants in her ear.

“Ain’t that better than coals in your stocking, darlin’?” He asked in between breaths, chuckling slightly. Watching the mess in between her legs, he couldn’t stop the small groan that creeped up his throat. “Gonna behave for next year?”

She giggled, finally tearing her gaze away from where his cock still rested in between her pussy lips to look at him instead.

“Mhm, I don’t know.” She said, a grin spreading on her face. This whole thing was exactly what she’d needed, and she would fight for him to keep that stupid costume. And for him to put it on again. “Is my present gonna be better than this?”

His warm hands smoothed over her thighs, the fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt as he moved up. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and he knew this wouldn’t be the only time this happened.

“We’ll see.” Joel said before leaning in and kissing her, hearing the soft hum vibrating in her chest. “But before next year… Maybe I have just a little something left in my sack for you.”

A laugh broke out of her, feeling herself clench around nothing as she thought of what else his sack contained for her.

And she would enjoy every second of it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #my writing

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hydrngea · 1 year

Note

Rafe x reader

They grew up together and as kids Rafe got reader a necklace and she still wears it to this day but Rafe doesn’t notice until she’s all dressed up for midsummer

(This is really random but I thought it was cute lol)

Ur writing is amazing btw! 🫶🏻

perfect pick

a/n : thanks sm!!! i appreciate the compliment :)) i didn’t completely answer the prompt but i might do a part 2 in a couple of days :))

notes : rafe cameron x reader, au to some extent featuring rafes mom before she disappeared.

masterlist | PART TWO

————

rafe could care less about your tenth birthday. in fact, the only reason he even knew it was coming up was because it was all you and sarah could ever talk about lately; what the theme would be, what kind of cake would be the best to eat, who should and should not be invited.

rafe cameron does not care about your birthday- which is why when his mom forced him to come along with her to pick out a present for you, all he wanted to do was jump out of the car and run away.

“but she’s not even my friend.” he whined as they entered the mall, keeping the door open for his mom to go in with wheezies stroller.

“no buts. she’s family, rafe.”

he groans, his steps heavy against the large and perfectly square porcelain tiles of tiffany’s.

“just because she’s your best friends daughter doesn’t mean i have to get her a present.”

his mom shushes him as they approach the jewelry counter, placing a hand on his shoulder before smiling at the associate.

the associate is too enthusiastic to be genuine at this time of day. rafe rolls his eyes at her sickly sweet tone while she asks what they’re looking for. he feels a nudge at his side and his face twitches with annoyance.

“a necklace.” he says under his breath, planning on choosing the first one the associate suggests.

she leads them to the left side of the store, hand gesturing to an array of really expensive necklaces for them to choose from.

“i’ll be right where you found me if you need any help with specifics.” she smiles before abandoning them.

rafe turns to look at his mom, who holds wheezie on her hip. “so?” he shrugs.

“hm?”

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, “what one do you want?”

his mother laughs, adjusting wheezie on her hip and grabbing her hand, stopping her from dirtying the display with her chubby fingers. “i don’t want any of these. which one does y/n want?”

the question makes him think for a second. he doesn’t know what you would like. he flips through his memories for some sort of indication, but really he should just point to a random piece and call it a day.

red. he thinks, he remembers you saying your favorite color is red- on multiple occasions.

it was red like ladybugs 4 years ago. then red like pretty roses. red like red pandas a couple years before. red like taylor swifts iconic lipstick now.

he shakes his head, then points to a silver chain with a little red charm in it. “that.” he shrugs and then turns on his heel, before his mom can question if its the best choice.

…

he fidgets with the black ribbon wrapped neatly on top of the gift box theyd put the necklace in, eyes tracing over the bolder lettering over and over again as they walked back to the parking lot. he avoids making eye contact with his mom, like for some reason it’d trigger her to go on another rant about how he should act gentlemanly when he gives her the present or at least act like he cares.

they make it to the car without any conversation, save for some half-coherent blabber here and there from wheezie. he slips into the passenger seat while his mom buckles in wheeze into her carseat, the box still in his hands.

halfway through the car ride, the silence between them is broken. “i know you don’t like to talk about your feelings rafe, but you don’t do a great job at hiding your facial expressions.”

“mom,” he groans, leaning the back of his head deep into the leather seat of her escalade.

“i can tell you have a soft spot for her.” she continues, pressing on the brakes as they approach a red light.

“i don’t.” rafe grumbles, fingernail digging into the box and leaving a mark.

“deny all you want, but i saw the way you looked thinking about her. it’ll catch up to you one day.”

he finally brings his gaze to her, his blue eyes meeting her mirroring irises with a glint of curiosity over what her words mean. he makes to open his mouth, to ask what she means by the look. to ask what’s going to catch up to him. but then reminds himself it doesn’t matter and stops himself.

he doesn’t have anything to catch up to him, because he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for y/n.

there’s no way he feels something towards you- could he?

he shakes his head, putting the box to his side and out of his lap and flickering his eyes to his window. why is he letting his mom get into his head?

he doesn’t care about you. doesn’t care about hee stupid birthday, or even care much about the stupid present he chose for you.

—————-

your tenth birthday party is excatly how you wanted it to be. it’s perfectly decorated, with red streamers hung all over the downstairs of your house and taylor swift themed snacks and games. you were having the time of your life, drunk off shirley temples in fancy alcholol flutes.

you notice a stain on your birthday sash and you pout. quickly excusing yourself to drop off the sash in your room, you rush out of your back patio and into the house, making your way towards the stairs when you bump into someone’s solid chest.

here’s one thing to note; regardless of what everyone says, you do not like rafe cameron. “oh, rafe.” you say, taking a small step back-you can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze.

okay fine, the previous statement was a lie. but not completely, it was only a small crush. tiny. as big as the sprinkles on your birthday cake.

“here.” he shoves a small gift bag into your hands and then hastily walks away before you can ask what it is.

the interaction leaves you somewhat disoriented but also flustered, skin pink and pulse fast.

on your past birthdays, you always get one present from sarah and one from her parents. and that’s what you think it is, a present from sarah’s family.

you bring the bag up with you into you room and pull the sash off your body, throwing it into a random corner of your room.

you know it’s bad etiquette to open presents before it’s time, but for some reason you’re too drawn to the gift bag to wait. you peak your head out your bedroom door and find that the coast is clear, and open the bag, pulling out a small teal box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. you shake it close to your ear, guessing it’s some sort of jewelry and grin to yourself when you realize you’re right

you open the box and find the most perfect necklace ever. it’s silver, with a small red heart attached to its chain with your initial engraved onto it.

you’ll have to thank mrs and mr cameron for the gift. it might be even better than the one sarah got you.

you hear your mom call for you from the bottom of the stairs and you quickly shove the box into the top drawer of your dresser, leaving the bag on top of your bed before hurrying back downstairs to rejoin the party.

——-

you’re confused when mrs cameron hands you another gift bag when it’s time to open presents.

“another one?” you ask with your brow furrowed, though you aren’t complaining.

“from me, ward and wheeze.” she hands it to you with a warm smile and a quick wink.

that’s when it clicks that the present wasn’t from who you thought it.

you slip away from the party and rush back up to your room, grabbing the original bag and digging inside for a card or an indication form who it could be from.

there’s a note stuck to the bottom of the bag, made of ripped loose leaf and written with a dull pencil.

“happy birthday” it says, with no signature. but you don’t need one to know who it’s from.

suddenly, your heart starts hammering and your face starts to swell with a smile.

you can’t believe it- rafes the one who got you the necklace, and somehow he managed to make it perfect.

—-

authors note part 2 : i want to say this is extremely UNEDITED so i apologize for any errors and incoherences etc ! there’s a 90% chance i’m gonna take this down and repost this with edits lol.

taglist : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover @of-many-fandomss @dearreader03 @penny4yourthoughts @willowpains

PART 2

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