#very nervous and is either making eye contact or glancing around

[starlooove]

Devastating

[sonarspace]

love sick king, sukuna

wc: 1.6k content: soft sukuna. just sukuna being in love. and slight nsfw. not proofread as usual. a/n: thinking of sukuna and how over in his head he would be when you first start dating cause you mean so much to him and he just wants to get it right.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

your first kiss. lips soft against his. he can taste the cherry chapstick when his tongue lulls out over your lips asking to be let in. a soft groan eliciting from him at the touch of your tongues. but he doesn’t push you further. he pulls back, eyes dilated. “we should stop..” he whispers. his thumb caressing your swollen lips. “okay. goodnight,” you chirp opening the door to your room and slipping in.

he walks back to his room. only thought in his head was your lips. he spends his night thinking about the kiss. wondering if you were too.

he steals glances when you serve him and his men dinner. not that you did this very often, only when you wanted to see him be a love sick puppy. he asks you to bring him the bread plate. “can i get some bread rolls, please?” he asks looking your way. his politeness while speaking to you doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the table. usually he would command not ask. they silently smirk at seeing him behave this way. their king had fallen in love.

his fingers lightly touch yours. electricity coursing through both your bodies. a blush creeps on his face as he grabs the bread roll from your hands. cute. you think to yourself. you could tease him about this later. “sukuna?” a voice brings up out of the trance. lost in your touch. lost in your eyes.

you move back to the kitchen. giddy. he comes after a while. “hey,” his voice gains your attention. you quickly move over to him. your arms move around his neck as his take their rest on your waist. “hi,” you smile.

both of you waiting for the other to make the first move. waiting to be kissed. you both hold eye contact. having a whole conversation without saying anything. you kiss him on the cheek and pull away “gotta clean up my king.” his heart skips a beat whenever you refer to him as your king. he wanted to be yours forever.

no advances are made by the either for you for the rest of the week. keeping your distances from each other. a knock comes at your door in the morning. sukuna stands outside your door. fiddling with his fingers — nervous with anticipation.

you open the door, half asleep. the early morning sun shining through the curtains lightening your frame. dressed in a skimpy white night gown, the robe loosely tied around. “sukuna,” you whisper sleep lacing your voice. “did you need something?” you ask with your head lulled to the side.

“um—” unable to form a coherent sentence at a upon seeing your morning look. your puffy eyes. slumped body. he wants to hold you in his arms. he wishes he could wake up to you every day. how much better his day would be if you were by his side. “sukuna,” you stretch the vowel trying to bring him back to you.

he clears his throat. “yes um, just wanted to ask you something.” can i kiss you? can you call me yours? will you be my girlfriend? marry me? he shakes his head as if the thoughts would clear but they stay lingering in the back of his mind when he asks you “will you go on a date with me?”

“took you long enough but yes i’d love to,” you smile at him. “perfect. i’ll pick you up at 7,” he returns your smile. it tugs at your heart. he should smile more often you think to yourself. a new goal to keep him smiling. “okay sweet cheeks. see you then.” he raises his eyebrows at the nickname. “now.. let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he warns jokingly. “too late,” you wink at him.

as promised sukuna’s outside your door at 7. an array of flowers in a bouquet in his hand. he knocks lightly. “come in!” you yell from inside. “it’s sukuna,” he replies back. in case you were expecting someone else. “i know. come in. i need your help.” he closes the door behind him, “in here,” you call out from the closet. he drops the bouquet on your coffee table and makes his way to you.

“close your eyes,” you yelp when you see him approaching. “but you just told me to come in?” he retorts. “i know but keep your eyes closed.” you walk over to where he’s standing and grab his hands. he hold his breath. “can you help me zip up this dress without looking?” you ask. “sure can,” he smirks. “you’re dirty,” you pout. “aw now no need to pout.” he catches you off guard. he just knew you too well. “i never claimed otherwise. now turn around.”

you put his hands on your shoulders and turn around. he can feel the material under his hands. “go ahead,” you whisper trying to hide how bad his touch was getting to you. he feels for the zip under his fingers. slowly moving over the straps and then to your bare skin. he inhales deeply at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. soft and smooth. just how he imagined it. his hands make their way to the middle of your back. a small metal like piece comes in his grasp and he pulls it up, slowly. trying to savor the moment you let him this close to you.

“thank you. now keep your eyes closed and walk back outside and wait for me.” you order him and he abides. who would’ve the thought the king would be so love sick he would be taking orders. definitely not him. he smiles at the thought. happy to do anything you asked of him. soon after he leaves you follow him out to the hallway.

you’re dressed in a sheer black dress with lace flowers dotting it. hugging your body just the way he wishes to. unable to control himself he lets out a whistle at which you laugh and give him a twirl “do you like?” you ask him. “yes,” he grabs your waist mid twirl and pulls you in. shorter than him even with heels you look up at him with a big smile. he holds back from kissing and instead hands you the colorful bouquet “for you, my lady”.

still in the palace you step outside to his grand garden. he brings you to an area filled with different array of roses. the sun bidding its farewell to the sky and shining a perfect shade of gold made it look like a scene out of the movie. a stone table with stone benches on either side under the white pillars welcomed you.

breathtaking. that’s what you looked like he thinks. if that word was a person, it would be you. his hand grasps yours as you make conversation about everything and nothing. leftover dessert lingers on the side of your lip. his finger comes up to wipe it away. he thinks about pulling you in and kissing you. and you wait for it to come but it doesn’t. you both walk hand in hand. you looking up at the stars and talking about different constellations as he guides you through the garden and back into the house. he loves how excited you sound so he listens to every word you say carefully. he walks you to your room like always. and like last time you expect him to kiss you goodbye but he doesn’t. instead he kisses you on the cheek.

he wanted you to be the one to initiate the kiss. to confirm that you felt the same way he did but when you don’t he leaves you with a quick peck on the cheek.

he sighs when he reaches his bedroom. wondering if what you felt for each other was mutual. he lets his head fall back to the door muffling the sound of your knock. you wait for him patiently. maybe he didn’t want to see you, you thought.

but you’d regret it if you didn’t at least try. so you knock once more and almost instantly he opens the door. still dressed in the same clothes. you move in quickly. your hands grab his face and pull him down for a deep kiss. he moans into the kiss, shutting the door behind you.

his hands move under your thighs and your legs wrap around him like they were made to always keep him in your hold. he falls with you on the bed. he pulls back for a moment, quickly getting rid of anything that would halt either of your movements.

your walls are snug around him as he pushes in. you fit together perfectly. the way a key fits a lock. hard to choose between going fast and feeling good or going slow and savoring the moment, he chooses the latter.

he wishes he could stay in this moment forever. your sweet voice calling out his name in a fervor of pleasure. your eyes threatening to close “keep your eyes on me, doll,” he huffs. soon he brings you both to a state of ecstasy. you let go with a deep moan of his name “sukuna, oh fuck”. and he follows suit. painting your walls white. panting your name. his head falls to your neck. both of you breathing heavily. your fingers tangle into his pink locks as he leaves kisses behind your ear, on your neck, over your collarbone.

“sleep with me tonight,” he tells you and you nod an okay. “too tired to move, anyway.” you say making him chuckle. he cleans you up and pulls you in his arms. “i love you”, he whispers into your hair when he’s sure you’re asleep. he hopes you’re dreaming of him. dreaming of a life with him. just as he does.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

a/n pt. 2: had a half mind to end this over him not hearing you knock and keeping it angsty. but i’m nice :)

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[eightmakesonebraincell]

how do you think bf!ateez would be like with a shy gf? :o

the ones who silently take care of you: seonghwa, san

nobody can convince me otherwise that hwa and san would not lay down their lives to make sure that you feel comfortable so long as you are with them. they are both extremely perceptive and know what you want or need before you even do. you want a tissue from the box but you're too shy to ask the strangers on the table beside you for one? he's already asked and placed the tissues in your hand. you're meeting his friends for the first time and you're nervous to talk to them? he's already told his friends in advance to make you feel welcome without overwhelming you with questions. they thrive off being able to protect and care for you in all these little ways, and the cute smiles, appreciative hugs and bashful pecks you give them in return? anything you ask for and don't ask for, they will move heaven and earth to give to you

the ones who make sure you are okay: hongjoong, mingi

honestly, i think both joong and mingi would wonder at first if you being quiet and withdrawn has something to do with them. are they doing or saying something that is making you feel uncomfortable? or they might wonder if something is going on in your life, like with your friends or family. they probably ask you every now and then just to check in and make sure you're okay and that nothing is wrong. but they come to understand that it's just your personality and you're naturally shy, so you need time to feel confident or warm up to settings and situations. they might take a more proactive approach to help you with your shyness–not in the sense that they want you to overcome it, but more in the sense to help you feel more at ease and less nervous, especially when they are not there for you. they encourage you in small ways to step outside of your comfort zone, but of course the moment they see that it might be too much for you, joong and mingi are stepping right in to help you. no matter what, you know that they are always watching you and have your back

the ones who are just as shy as you are: yeosang, jongho

it's probably a constant back and forth of finding each other endearing LOL. i feel like with yeo and jongho, because they are both also quite shy, a relatively new relationship would give such puppy love vibes. there are a lot of bashful giggles and awkward eye contact when you catch each other stealing glances at one another. in situations that might require confrontation, like the waiting staff confirming the wrong order when you're on a date at a restaurant, you would look at him and he would look at you and neither of you would correct the staff. that's the charm of your relationship though. you both go with the flow that doesn't make either of you uncomfortable, and it's very relaxed and easy-going. and let's be real, you both probably go home afterwards and laugh about (and shit-talk) the situations that neither of you were going to speak up about. introversion and shyness is just a part of the relationship and it works for you all

the ones who bring you out of your shell: yunho, wooyoung

their infectious energy and easy banter just makes it impossible for you to be shy around them. it does take a while at first, but once you're comfortable with them? shy girl who??? i feel like yun and woo just have a way of drawing out your hidden mischief and occasional brattiness, and god do they feel a sense of giddiness to know that they are one of the only people you show this side of yourself to. at the same time though, they are able to reign themselves in when a situation calls for it and they are extremely dependable. they make sure that you know you can rely on them in situations you aren't comfortable with, like if you're in an unfamiliar setting or a situation that requires confrontation. all in all, shyness doesn't exist when you are with yunho or wooyoung, but when certain people or environments bring that shyness back, they're right there for you to lean on

[stargirlfics]

So Much Goddamn Talkin’

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes Joel has to quiet the noise in your head. Luckily he’s quite good at that.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post outbreak—Jackson era, mutual pining, friends to lovers vibe, established relationship, some mentions of anxiety, feelings and fluff, competency kink, soft dom!joel vibes, smut: oral (both receiving), fingering, soft intense PiV, unprotected sex, praise kink, daddy kink, come marking

*reader is written and described as black but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!

Word Count: 6k

Currently obsessed with the thought of older, domestic Joel in a relationship and couldn’t stop myself from getting carried away! Enjoy!

It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d ever spoken to Joel.

On the contrary, what had started as a timid friendship became something else entirely with one spontaneous kiss that only the stars bore witness to that night. 

A silly dream of romance had landed right in your lap despite the crumbling of the old world behind you, taking everything with it and yet they took your breath away constantly, like a whirlwind, two grounding anchors were now tethered to your heart and their names were Joel and Ellie. 

So why were you so nervous? 

Sighing softly, you decided to blame it on the watchful glances Joel was giving you from across the yard, distracting you from the book you were reading. Eye contact with him could feel like the most searing heat, spreading like wildfire and at the same time the deepest depths of comfort. 

Not always being a man of many words, the things he could express with a simple look or the weight of a hand fascinated you, made you fall so dangerously hard and with a certainty you’d never felt before. 

Therefore you reasoned it simply couldn’t be your fault for being distracted and wanting him so much right now. Not when he made you feel this way without even having to try very hard. 

You just needed to take a moment to soak it all in, a blooming hope carried in on the breeze now that it was the beginning of spring in Jackson, the wildflowers and planted seeds starting to sprout, and the soil and your own souls teeming with life after so long spent just surviving. Now there was space for healing. 

Space for you to sit in the rocking chair Joel had worked on for months as a birthday present to you, or watch him get around to all the house projects (because once a contractor always a contractor) and strum out the prettiest chords on his guitar late in the evenings out on the porch. 

This felt more like living and you never wasted a moment to covet it. 

“You’re doing an awful lot of staring, Miller.” You looked up from the same page for the fifth time to catch him already looking your way. 

He blinked and put another nail into the wood post he was working on. 

“Hm, well damn right I am when you look the way you do. Now if I told you it’s been at least ten minutes since you’ve turned a page in that book you just might have to admit you’ve been starin’ too.” 

There was that little smirk you knew so well, dancing on his lips as if he knew just how much it would drive you crazy, the confirmation that you hadn’t been subtle in the slightest either. 

“Well, you’re out here giving me a show.” You make a point to turn to the next page then, looking away before he could throw you a look at the sass in your tone. 

He was right of course but what he didn’t know was that reading had started all this to begin with. 

The tattered novel had been a surprise find on a patrol one day and came with an unexpected eroticism, bits of dialogue and tantalizing imagery on the page you were stuck on making your mind wander and wonder. 

It’s why you felt a little nervous, caught off guard, suddenly wishing you were in bed and underneath him. 

He flashes his teeth at you, that smirk widening into a smile at your reply, his attention returning to the tools in his hands but your own continued to linger. Remembering. 

A few nights before in particular, when he was fucking into you so deep you had to bite the sheets to keep your moans down. You could still picture the definition of his arms as they cradled you and kept the headboard from colliding into the wall at the same time. 

Or how good you knew it felt when his broad palms swat across your ass, never failing to make you yield to him with such eagerness. 

You wished you could have your hands on him now, petting, feeling, showing him how much he was desired and cared for, how much you wanted to be filled by him, stretched out and aching with nothing but his name in your mind and on the tip of your tongue for hours.

Those stray thoughts had you turning back a page, leaning into the slow burning fire lit underneath you. 

Still unsure of how to initiate these desires, you didn’t want to distract him from something he’d been trying to get around to doing for awhile and at the same time felt a thrill at the idea of tugging him away, leading him to bed. 

With some hesitation you decided to bide your time for a bit longer, getting caught up in words that made you squirm imagining Joel doing and saying them. 

God, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could keep up, feeling the slick pooling of arousal between your thighs, the way you wanted to grind against nothing already. 

Joel finished repairing the post in no time and moved on to patch up a hole in the wall of the old shed, unaware of your internal dilemma. 

Eventually he gathered up his tools and stored them away, told you he was gonna head in and wash up but that you should keep relaxing out here for as long as you wanted and he’d get started on preparing things for dinner later. 

He left you with a kiss to your temple and the lingering familiarity of his touch. Handsome and sweet, he was going to be the death of you. 

Your mind felt too restless to keep sitting but you took him up on the suggestion just for awhile longer, trying to find the right way to move things in the direction you wanted. Family dinner wasn’t for another four hours and Ellie would be here a bit early but there was still time and you wanted to make the most of it. 

So you finished off another chapter and finally closed the novel, ushered inside with the echo of birdsongs and the steady thumping of your heart in your ribs. 

–

Joel had been so sure you hadn’t noticed his repeated stares as much as he’d noticed yours, bowing his head under the warm spray of the shower he could only think of how pretty you looked sitting there while he worked, fond of the fact that you liked to be next to him even if he was occupied.  

At first he couldn’t wrap his head around it and was almost too unnerved and bewildered by the fact that you took such an interest. 

Not at all used to someone touching him or looking at him like he was their entire world but that’s the only way you looked at him and as much as he had tried to be measured, tried not to get attached, he had come around to the idea of a relationship again. 

Loving people was frightening, something he felt he’d lost the ability to do properly after all these years, all the blood staining his hands and his conscience.

He had lost so much, seen too much death and feared he would only bring ruin, that he would lose her too, until you came along and turned everything he thought he knew on its head. 

Oh what secrets and stories of loss he had told you in the quiet of night, when old nightmares and new guilts collided and kept him from sleeping though that was much less these days now that you slept by his side every night. 

It had been a long time since he’d shared his bed and now it made him smile thinking of how natural it felt to wake up next to you, how easy it was to be around you, in the quiet moments he could see how the foundations you’d both built together had been made solid and steadfast over time. 

Silly to think how he fretted over ruining his friendship with you all that time ago, the way everyone was sick of him in the days leading up to when he would finally ask if you were interested because they all knew he had nothing to worry about and those worries in his head were swiftly put to rest when you tugged at his shirt to pull him closer and asked what had taken him so long.

He’d never forget that moment. 

Joel thought then that this was the moment he knew but quickly learned there would actually be a collection of moments–several times a day–that would remind him just how hooked on you he really was.

Like the times he showed his age and your sweet giggles and clever retorts always followed soon after, or how much he’s come to love the summertime because your brown skin basked in the sunlight is like art to him and he relishes every chance he gets to see you exactly as you are.

You brought a fullness and meaning to life here, encouraging him to slow down, to breathe. Taking care of one another made him stronger, nourished in ways he didn’t think were possible.  

“Honey.”

He grits the word out like he’s trying to call you up here, reminded of how lucky he felt to have you, to be so connected.

Watching you walk around batting your eyes acting like you don’t know that it’s the pretty, round edges of your nose, the smile lines, the plush of your hips and that glowing thing inside you beating in your chest that drives him crazy. 

Simply put, he was impressed by you. Constantly. You could handle yourself, skilled in your own right, already handy with weapons long before he was in your life and even more proficient now, deadly, with the things he’d taught you since. 

You were resourceful and calm in tricky situations or when quick medical training was needed and yet none of the carnage of infected and worse terrors ever changed the soft way you tended to people, almost like you couldn’t help but give a little extra love. 

And you had certainly spared many an ounce of that love for him; he’d forgotten how good it felt to smile this much over someone, can’t remember the last time he felt this way and definitely can’t remember the last time he’s seen his Ellie look at someone with such admiration either. 

Everything about you captured his attention and he was grateful to be able to live some sort of life again after so much heartache, after believing he could never have these kinds of things for himself. 

Those hands of his could scorch the Earth but you made him understand they could build things too, could show love and give pleasure just as well and just as fiercely. 

Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of it. 

All he knew was that he never wanted to let you go and that was enough for him. 

–

When you venture into the bedroom you find him getting dressed, hair tousled from being towel dried, another wave of aching bloomed in your core as you thank yourself for having nudged him into letting it grow out a bit during the colder months. 

He looked so handsome doing nothing at all in particular you were sure you’d implode if you didn’t just come out with it, you just hope he wouldn’t mind doing some undressing again. 

“Hey, honey.” 

His voice was low and gentle, the familiar pet name in his usual smooth rasp made you stride forward, sending you surging into his arms so that you were squished against his chest. He tilted his head at you just slightly in question before you were pressing your lips to his.

Your mouths met so tenderly at first, fingertips bursting with a nervous energy as they reached for his shirt, grasping needily as you lost yourself in the slow ease of the way he kissed you back.

But a little spark of anxiety makes you tense, overthinking the kiss, feeling a little silly for just how turned on you were, how much he could see it written all over you, dripping quite literally in desperation even if you tried to reason with yourself that you knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that. 

“J-Joel…shit,” you whined and huffed through sloppy kisses, slowly finding yourself being walked backwards and held firm against the closest wall, “Oh…we don’t have to do this if-” 

“The hell are you goin’ on about?” Joel grumbled against the column of your neck and all ability to articulate went out the window.

Rationally you knew it was a pretty good indication he wasn’t bothered by the spontaneity from the way those strong hands of his were already underneath your shirt, pinching almost in the haste to grip your flesh but you were already overthinking and it held persistent. 

“Just…if you’re tired, I understand. We can wait till tonight. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Your words were huffed out in nervous gasps, trying to will your knees not buckle when his scruff teased a swipe across your jaw. 

Joel pulled back then so you’d have to look at him, knowing the anxious flit of your lashes well. 

He knew what to watch for, patient when you needed reassurance that you were free to run wild with your desires, that he was never tired of having you bare and wrapped around him at any hour of the day but this was of no consequence, he’d make sure you knew where he stood.

Shaking his head, he doesn’t give you more than a moment to suck in a breath before his hands leave your waist to hold your face. 

“So much goddamn talkin’, sweetheart,” the words are a heavy growl against your lips in between heavier kisses, “Think I need to remind you of some things and put those thoughts out of your mind, yeah?” 

Your whole body felt hot, flushed with desire and aching for whatever he was going to do to remind you, nodding before your tongue could catch up with your agreeing thoughts. 

“Let me show you.” Joel caged you in against the wall, broad shoulders blocking everything else out. 

The steady rise and fall of his chest became your focal point and new arousal sparked at his attentiveness, so easily able to soothe, to make you unravel for him. 

“Please, I want you so much.” Your softly sighed plea turned into a whine when you were crushed to his chest again and this time there were no reservations to the embrace.

He was so good at this, making you burn for him so often you wondered sometimes how you were able to get anything done.

Hungry fingers pushed the collar of his flannel back, jeans already unbuttoned for your wandering attention to latch onto and he encouraged it with a push of his hips against yours. 

It’s an easy movement, dropping to your knees like you’ve done a hundred times before to see how just a simple kiss already had him stiff and straining against denim, teasing the kind of thickness you so badly wanted to fill your throat with. 

Your mouth watered, fingers outstretched to wrap around hot skin the moment his cock was free, unable to stop yourself now. Joel’s rough sigh following the steady pump of your hands made you glance up, meeting the intensity of his gaze and you held it there for a moment before your tongue was tasting him. 

“Look at you...already have it in your mouth like the quick learner you are,” He hissed through his teeth and you could feel where he throbs against the hollow of your cheek. 

Pride swells in your chest from the praise, knowing the tone of his voice meant the restrained edge of patience from letting you tease him back was slipping.

You could feel it in the flex of muscle underneath your hands where they’re braced on his thighs and you hoped he was proud watching your lips stretch around him, head bobbing nice and easy the way you know he liked it.

You’re unconcerned with being neat about it, slicking him up with your mouth and still trying to take him deeper, trying to take all of him in fact. 

You liked to flirt with dreams of your nose being pressed snug against Joel’s pelvis, wanted to feel him through your entire chest even if burned because there was sweetness in being deprived of oxygen like that. Call it an unwavering trust. 

You gave in to the feeling and kept your eyes focused upwards on him, trying to relax your jaw despite all the anticipation, happy to let him take control. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl. Stay just like that.” 

Listening is hardly even a thought when you’ve hung onto his every word, every movement, not minding the strain in your jaw as he rocked his hips into the wet heat of your mouth. Tongue swirling over his shaft, the thick head of him, desperate to earn it, to make him curse and growl out your name. 

The pressure of his fingers against your jaw and then the back of your head had you moaning, trying to speak while he fucks your mouth. 

“P-please, make me take it.” Your heart lept with each languid thrust of his hips sliding deep so he could feel the softening of your throat.

He’d give you whatever you asked for when you whimpered like that. 

Firm and sweet was his grip, raspy grunts and cursed out praises that flowed from his mouth even sweeter to your ears as your tongue slid over the soft, sensitive head of his cock and back down the length of him. 

You’re insatiable and any anxious thoughts still rattling around in your mind were quickly fading, replaced with his touch, his smell, his taste. The salty smear on your taste buds had you pressing your thighs together, craving relief.

“Good girl, yeah that’s it. Startin’ to understand now, sweetheart?” 

Your head tipped forward and the only response you could give was a heady moan, doing your best to nod knowing how much he’d like seeing that, the tears already welling along your lashes from the effort but you didn’t mind.

Knowing you made him tip his head back, a heavy palm braced against the wall above your head while he grunted out curses and filthier praise made you feel a dozen more times ravenous, encouraging him to keep going with sloppy, wet whimpers that were barely held back from your kiss swollen lips, stretched over every thick inch of him you could take. 

“Love watching you choke on it, honey. Fuck that's good, show me how much you can fit.” 

The sight of him is something you hoped to never forget, searching for and finding the slight snarl of his lips when the tip hits the back of your mouth and the flex of his biceps when you slide your tongue around to lick the underside of him. 

Joel could barely hold himself back, the urge to bury himself in your throat almost overwhelming but he wanted more than that, he wanted to reward you for listening so well, for how much you make him feel.  

It had been building all day and he knew you had to feel it too. He was loath to pull you off his cock, an ache through his chest at your desperate cries from the loss of contact but he was quick to remedy that with a searing kiss.  

You melt and are grateful your knees are already on the floor when your tongue meets his. It was so messy, hungry and neither of you cared. 

“Get on the bed. Go on, darlin’.” Joel’s voice sounded like warm syrup, covering you in adoring instruction, taking you and leading you where he knows is best. 

And god do you love when he was in this mood, nothing but a filthy edge to his affections. 

So you complied, ignoring the twinge in your tummy as you moved to the bed, sprawling out across sheets that smell like the both of you. 

He watches you get comfortable, loosening a few buttons and those jeans finally discarded on the floor before the distance is closed and he’s all over you. 

Every touch and caress was intentional as he undresses like he’s unwrapping a present, greedy for all of you but so passionate, so easily able to steal your breath at the same time, slowing down the tempo now that your legs have fallen open and there’s nothing left covering you. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy…and she’s all mine.” Joel admires you for a moment, firm hands tickling your thighs while his thumbs circled the soft, sensitive junction of your thigh so close to where you wanted him most. 

The praise has you sighing breathlessly, peeking down to see the way he was looking at where you glisten, a sureness to his features that made you feel safe all while the clench of his jaw sent goosebumps across your arms.

You want to echo that he’s right but he doesn’t let you have the chance, a broad palm sliding down over the hair covering your mound, tugging at it gently before two thick fingers are swirling over your folds. 

Muscles jolting, you were rocking up into a touch that is so expert and familiar you are helpless against it.

“Joel, oh! That feels so good,” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath while your body responds to the tight circles he was rubbing against your clit.

“Yeah? ‘Can tell. You’re so slick, honey. Did suckin’ me off get you this worked up?” 

Your nod is pure reflex, hips grinding against his movements needing to chase the pleasure that was slowly oozing its way into your system. 

It’s only something he can do and he’s so steady, so thorough with you even as you squirm, those two fingers now stroking at your entrance eliciting sounds that sparked heat in your cheeks and spread down to your chest. 

You want to be as connected to him as you can, almost pleading for him to sink inside you already just desperate to feel completely surrounded by him. 

And Joel can’t seem to grasp enough of you under his hands, gone for the way you cling to him as he fits his middle finger inside, marveling at the way your walls take him in. 

He would never get over your strangled little cry at being stretched around his knuckles. 

“I asked a question, lemme hear you.” He spoke a little more loosely, his Texan drawl slightly heavier now. 

“Yes, yes,” you’re remembering yourself after a moment, “Fuck, yes I love sucking your dick.” 

The words are shameless, falling from your lips as a promise, a proclamation that you know he feels the weight of when he leans in to kiss you again, muffling your sounds while he slides a second finger in alongside the first that’s filling you so perfectly. 

Any concept of time or day is somewhere in the background muted, far away and suddenly you know you’re right where you should be, right where you belong, no traces of anxious thoughts lurking any longer.   

You could sink into these sensations now, enjoying how his kisses had moved to your neck exploring the sensitive spots and smiling against your skin when a new one is found because he loves feeling you clench around him when he does. 

It’s a gift to Joel, being able to draw out this kind of bliss in you. 

He wanted you to feel good, wanted to be the one to make your world shatter and then piece it back together again when you came down to the ground. 

Your eyes rolled shut when he plunged deeper, the pads of his fingers massaging at your walls in tandem with what his mouth was doing between the valley of your chest and further down to where your stomach fluttered. 

Somewhere in the haze of it all you realize his mouth was at your thighs, the white hot touch of his lips closing around a stretch of supple flesh bringing another wave of heat before he’s licking gently, bruising a mark into your skin that only he will know is there later. 

“I could spend hours like this, you know that? Could have you makin’ such a pretty mess all over my hands, all over our bed…and I know you love when I do this.” Joel husks before he’s finally tasting you properly. 

He starts at your clit, tongue flattened against you in anticipation of the inevitable flex of your legs, determined to keep you right where he wants and you’re already so far gone for him and this moment that your head tilts back against the pillows in a gasp. 

You feel almost weightless as you succumb to the pleasure and how he presses his mouth into your pussy like he wants to devour it. You’re sure you’d let him swallow you whole if it kept feeling like this. 

It’s not even a question really, you know you would, until you’re between sinew and bone and part of him forever. 

The plunge and curl of his fingers combined with the flick of his tongue had you panting, heat skittering across your body while your hips circled on their own accord.

“More! Please, Joel!” It’s a chant and a sob all rolled in one and you don’t care how needy it sounds. 

He keeps going, lapping at your sex greedily until you’re clenching down around his fingers and your toes are curling, crying out for him not to stop as you hurtle towards the cliff’s edge.

Skin dewy and alive, you decide that you don’t want to spare anything, not when he’s watching you as hungrily as he eats. 

You give him all your sounds, all your pleas, handing him your body and your heart at once. 

It’s amazing how it doesn’t take long for him to have you so close, right at the precipice, forgoing his own breaths to keep pace, to give you what your body is singing out for and when you finally let go, when your orgasm is finally coaxed from you he only presses his face into you further, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could in hopes of seeing that soft sweet look in your eyes afterwards.

“Attagirl, doin so well.” The words are a tether. 

He’d take care of you and that’s perhaps what made it so easy to surrender yourself to the passion of the moment knowing it would linger long after you were both spent. 

“Mmm you should see yourself right now,” Joel hummed, licking his lips while you attempted to catch your breath, “I always want you, don’t forget that yeah?” 

The last part catches your attention through the curtain of bliss, a serious shift in his tone telling you that he meant every word; you had no reason to second guess yourself over your desires and he was making sure of that. 

You nodded and sat up to reach for him, nevermind how you still trembled, your desire to be close to him was stronger than ever now. 

“I need you, Joel! Please, I’ve been so good…” Your words tug at him, you can tell they do by the way he ruts his hips against the edge of the bed. 

He crushed his mouth to yours before you could finish speaking, a much welcome relief, the burning flame inside you quelled for a moment. 

“Sure have been, honey and I think good girls should be rewarded.” He nipped at your ear, stealing your breath with his words. 

And even further when his flannel joined his jeans on the floor, climbing back onto the bed to follow the path of your body with his own, framing your limbs and wrapping you up in his embrace like you were made to fit against his chest. 

Your legs fall open again to wrap around his waist as he settles some of his weight down against your hips, just giving you a taste, calling back memories and reminding you, funnily enough, of that novel you were reading earlier. 

It felt like you were suddenly amongst the pages, chest heaving, your core tender and dripping as the man of your dreams was about to show you how much you���re his in every way.

Fairytales didn’t exist in this world but you felt like you were in one right now.

A giddy and timid smile spread across your face when Joel trailed warm hands down your body, catching on the bend of your elbow, wrapping around your ribcage to settle on the crest of your ass as he puts more of his weight down and uses his shoulders to nudge your legs apart and back towards your chest. 

The air felt thicker but your breathing seemed to even out, everything in your body thrumming with energy and an intensity neither of you could ignore any longer. 

Reaching down between your bodies you wrap a hand around where he’s thick and throbbing, guiding him closer with a soft smile, feeling how heavy he hangs in your hand, fingers pinching his skin when he rocks against your folds, the dirty sounds of his cock gliding through your stickiness. 

Joel groans against your forehead, holding himself steady as your hips buck into his touch, the tip pressing against your entrance and finally, slowly, sinking inside. 

Your moans are twined together in the quiet room. The stretch makes you keen, hands fumbling and grasping at strong shoulders, grateful he lets you have a moment to adjust. 

But it’s not long before you’re squirming again, whining for him to go deeper, to fill you to the hilt and he made good on his promises to do exactly that. 

He keeps your hips tilted up with the press of his palm underneath you, meeting little resistance the more he splits you open and it does something to him to see how much of a mess you are and he’s barely fucked you yet. 

“You can do it, know you can…there you go.” Joel pulls back to give a shallow thrust, lips brushing your temple and a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. 

The drag of his cock against your walls was everything, steady thrusts building up the tension coiling in your belly, fantasies from your novel melding with reality.

You felt like you were floating, your toes pointing when he changed the angle, brushing against a spot that had you crying out, ankles trying to lock around his torso.

Pressing heavier and faster with his hips however, your legs stay spread, the beginnings of a tremble rippling through your muscles now that he’s caught on. 

His pace remained measured and deep, just the way you were begging for it, and he’s content to watch your brows pinch, your jaw slacken, content to hear every gasp of air and pretty sobs  mixed in with your moans driving him crazy every time they slip from clenched teeth. 

“Shit, I love watching you take me like this.” He cooed. 

You can feel the heavy slap of his balls colliding with your ass when he pounds into you again and soon your hands slip from sweaty skin, scratching down his chest to pull at the sheets, so overwhelmed with feeling but never wanting it to stop.

“Daddy...Please, please keep going.”

You’re so caught up in the moment you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud, glassy eyes moving up from where you were trying to peek between your bodies to meet Joel’s careful gaze, only half registering how they widen for a moment. 

He’s taken aback for just a second, almost questioning whether he heard it correctly but something’s been knocked loose within him now, his cock twitching from the reverence and adoration in your tone, bestowing him with a title he suddenly wanted to earn. 

Joel was a grown man and had lived through many hells to be able to have you bare and underneath him like this, he reasoned he deserved to have a little fun in the bedroom especially when he hadn’t expected to be so affected.

“Ah so that’s what you’ve been reading in that book of yours. Just wanted Daddy to fuck you all day is that it, sweetheart? Yeah, I gotcha now.” He rasped low against the crook of your neck and started to fuck you harder. 

His grip on you was less gentle but still just as passionate, the force of his thrusts stealing your ability to think properly. He wanted to make you say it again. 

The burning in your cheeks only subsided a little at his acceptance, more heat flooding you from head to toe at being called out, wondering how he knew it was something you read in your novel, if it had been that obvious. 

It didn’t matter now, you see where his dark eyes have narrowed, ready to make you come again with this newfound discovery. 

So you try and be good for him while you moan and clench down on his length, your pussy swollen and aching but tingling for everything he could give you, “Yes, daddy! Just…oh! I couldn’t help it. Thank you, daddy!” 

He knows you’re close, a familiar frenzy to your breathing, the slick wet sounds between your legs, it’s everything he dreams of and more, torn between watching your face as you come or watching the way his cock shines with your release. 

With a few more strokes and the soft rubbing of his thumb against your clit you shatter, face pressing against the meat of his shoulder while you ride it out, feeling weightless in his embrace. 

It makes you giggle when you can’t keep your head up any longer, neck lolling back against the pillow where he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you in place as he finds his own release swiftly after yours, pulling out to cover your puffy folds in hot ropes of his come. 

You would never tire of being made a mess, even if you knew you’d be sore tomorrow, nothing quite ever beat the feeling of being fucked out like the way Joel could have you.

“Baby…” you’re breathless and bursting with emotion, “Thank you for that. Think I really needed it,” You laugh against his chest and sigh.

You’re almost too nervous still to look at him after your slip of the tongue but you know deep down there’s nothing you have to be worried about. 

“Of course, honey. Anytime, and I mean that.” 

–

You’re not sure how much time has passed, drifting in and out of a dreamy slumber still cradled against Joel, only now you realize you’ve been cleaned up and tucked under the covers but you don’t mind, you know you can simply lay here and soak it all in, he would take care of you. 

Racing thoughts no longer buzz around in your head, all you can feel and see is Joel and you smile to yourself knowing the intimacy you just shared still lingered in your body, love etched in your fingertips where they’re laced in his hand against his stomach. 

His lips press against your temple and you close your eyes again letting yourself be swept away with the sweet drawl of an “I love you.” in your ears and the gentle evening sun warming you both.

—

A/N: This was actually lowkey inspired by that scene where Joel is leading Ellie, Henry and Sam down the street after they come out of the tunnels and Joel just shakes his head and goes “so much goddamn talkin’.’ while looking like an annoyed father because they’re all being too loud…got very hung up on that bit of dialogue and could not let it go so here we are!

Also hope I added the daddy kink bit here in tastefully, it’s a fave of mine and I struggled a bit to think of how to incorporate it in a way that felt real for Joel so I only just dipped my toe in with it here but I hope you liked it! 👀

Thank you for reading <3

some no pressure tags! 💫 @eupheme @ozarkthedog @moreofem @tinydramatist @black-fairy3 @federalchickensoup @fluffyprettykitty @persona-enthusiast @moonstruksandco @ghotifishreads @communism-bitches

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve. 

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband. 

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst. 

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum. 

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe. 

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening. 

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag. 

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened. 

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.” 

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.” 

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm. 

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.” 

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.” 

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his. 

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine. 

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state. 

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek. 

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look. 

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.” 

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy. 

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears. 

Though, confusion takes president. 

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air. 

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear. 

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something? 

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed. 

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door. 

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose. 

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?” 

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here. 

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.” 

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor. 

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly. 

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues. 

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth. 

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.” 

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn. 

But he made his bed. 

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.” 

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance. 

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned. 

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.” 

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily. 

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage. 

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files. 

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs. 

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.” 

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters. 

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright. 

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan. 

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force. 

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger. 

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?” 

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds. 

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…” 

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it. 

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals. 

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had. 

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked. 

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered. 

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work. 

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox. 

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen. 

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood. 

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.” 

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough. 

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex. 

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.” 

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.” 

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks. 

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet. 

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.” 

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm. 

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?” 

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper. 

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate. 

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete. 

“Alex…” you whisper to no one. 

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you. 

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly. 

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too. 

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you? 

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows. 

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse. 

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven. 

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger. 

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed. 

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face. 

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”  

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up? 

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change. 

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all. 

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again. 

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring. 

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse. 

Dead silence. 

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—” 

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear. 

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen. 

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass. 

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens. 

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest. 

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.” 

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony. 

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor. 

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you. 

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again. 

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.” 

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained. 

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him. 

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed. 

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired. 

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate. 

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now. 

All that you needed was Alex. Your home. 

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot. 

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.” 

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.” 

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.” 

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.” 

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?” 

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once. 

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.” 

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.” 

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

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[daryl-fucking-dixon]

Tw slap of homophobia

“Tha’ hell? No way, we’re jus’ friends. Stop tryna make it into somethin’ tha’ its not”

“‘Jus’ friends’ don’t look at each other like tha’ little bro, think yer hidin’ somethin’ under yer shirt”

“Yer fuckin’ delusional, Merle”

“Yer a fuckin’ fag, Daryl

Darly Dixon’s first love, a boy from his shitty hometown. He was like a breath of fresh air after months of drowning, head barely above water. His parents were also shit, but they were never home either, and his house had become Daryl’s safe space.

He was certain this was just his friend, best friend even. But the side long glances, nervous touches of fingers, and awkward eye contact, he’s not sure anymore. At first it scares him, the idea of being gay, he knows what his family would think, and they already despise him. He’s hesitant, even flat out denies it for a moment.

“Nah… I don’ really think m’into anyone”

Over and over, he kept telling himself that, hoping if it played on loop enough that it would actually start to be true. Nervous touches turn into soft caresses, ones that make Daryl’s heart skip beats. His bedroom is small, bed even smaller. It made Daryl nervous, he was scared, but so excited at the same time.

Soft caresses eventually turn into hand holding, and Daryl has long gone stopped watching the TV, cheeks red and gaze everywhere else in the room but in his direction, that is until he gently turns Daryl head, forcing him to make eye contact in what felt like years.

He smiled at Daryl, and it was like the whole world had just completely stopped, only the two of them alone together. He pulled Daryl’s hand to his chest, shyly glancing at him before tugging his arm over his shoulder, crashing into Daryl’s lips. He was taken aback at first, but easily melted into it, his heart hammering and cock twitching.

Simple and innocent hangouts had morphed into messy and heated makeout sessions, each kiss deeper than the last. It was like their own personal routine, waltz around his empty house before going to curl up together in his bed, kissing, touching, exploring each other. He was Daryl’s very first time, making him feel so good in a way he wasn’t even sure was possible without drugs. He was Daryl’s very first love, first kiss, the first time he felt safe.

He was Daryl Dixon’s very first everything.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Eeeerm actually Daryl wouldnt gay because well I dont see him being gay 🤓🤓” Like what does a gay person look like to you bro I can assure you I do not give af if you think hes gay or not please dont hop on my page with no shit bc I always have the time TRUST😭🙏🏾

[yuuuhiii]

handpicked with love

includes : Inumaki toge x reader, 1.2k words , fluff, canon story followed, reader has a ct, a start of something new?, mutual pining

note: couldn’t stop thinking of this :( so I wrote thisss. Should I make this a series???:0

shake = agree

okaka = disagree

takana = worried

Transferring to a new high school was never easy. Especially when it was in the middle of the year. However, you didn’t transfer alone, a very timid boy with a ton of cursed energy that he didn’t know how to control was with you.

Hooray! 

Introductions were pretty rough, due to Okkotsu and his unsettling curse but you all got through it. The only girl whom you soon knew as Maki wasn’t very impressed by either of you. You also didn’t get a proper explanation about the Panda that you and Okkotsu were dying to be told. He was the most welcoming though.

However, there was a specific person that caught your eye and no it wasn’t Panda.

A spikey white-haired boy with half his face covered to be precise.

Since you had arrived he hadn’t seemed to acknowledge your presence at all, it was a bit hurtful, even more so that he seemed to hit it off with Okkotsu.

You walk with Maki in the front, yet she‘s already asking about training with you, you turn around making eye contact with the boy.

His eyes were beautiful, the light doing a perfect job of illuminating his violet irises.

However, he quickly averts his eyes, staring outside the window. You pout, turning back to Maki.

“Eh? Don’t worry about him, he can’t talk.” She shrugs and when you’re about to ask Panda speaks.

“Maki you can’t just leave it at that.” He sighs, shaking his head.

“He has a cursed speech technique, allowing anyone who’s listening to obey whatever he says. So in protection for everyone, he speaks in riceball ingredients.” Panda holds a thumbs up and you can hear a small ‘shake’ leave the boy.

You blink at him and smile. “You must be pretty strong then.”

Upon your reply a huff leaves him, his hands shoved in his pockets, his red ears going unnoticed by the students. It makes Maki groan and Panda tease him.

Over the weeks, despite your liking for the boy and wanting to engage in conversation with him, he didn’t seem to meet you halfway.

Nonetheless, the students knew something you didn’t and Toge made sure they wouldn’t open their mouths.

You sigh in your dorm room, it was a pretty day outside, spring was just around the corner so the days were much prettier. You rest on your windowsill taking in the scenery of your school.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone moving around. You’re met with Toge walking around with a watering can, watering various plants and flowers.

He looks so at peace, humming a little tune. It’s a rare occasion when his scarf is not fully wrapped around his mouth and you’re met with his beautiful smile. You smile fondly at him, in complete awe.

He feels your stare and he looks around, catching your eyes. A small gasp leaves you as he blinks at you. You pull away from the window, your heart beating erratically.

He definitely thought you were weird now.

To make everything even better (worse), the spawn of Satan (Gojo-Sensei), had appointed you to a mission with Toge.

“Now I know you might be nervous but you’re in good hands! Inumaki is a Semi-Grade 1 so he’ll take care of you.” Gojo smiles, walking away with a wave.

You were still a little confused about how he could just leave to two teenagers to fend off curses but you had to accept it.

You glance over at Toge as he walks through the hospital. You fidget with your hands, chewing at your lip.

He stops abruptly holding his arm out, you glance at him and he gestures for you to stay.

“What? No, I’m coming with you.” You frown and he blinks, shaking his head, he gestures for you to quiet down.

Your frown deepens as you stalk slowly behind him. The next second he’s pushing you as a huge unsettling blue curse hurdles toward him.

“Inumaki!” You shout as he rips down his scarf, yelling at the curse to plummet. However shortly after he falls to the ground, coughing up blood. You run to him, kneeling next to him.

“Are you okay?! Did it hurt you?” You’re hovering over him, he’s trying to say something else but his voice is too raspy for you to determine what he is saying.

As you’re about to say something you feel the presence of the curse behind you. Before you can think you’re forming a bubble around Toge.

Due to your expert channeling of cursed energy, your cursed technique was making force fields or small balls of force.

However, the force field didn’t hold for long since you were launched into the wall by the curse, prompting you to black out.

You blink your eyes open and you’re met with a bright light and white room. You groan sitting up, taking in your surroundings.

It's only then that you recall the events that had got you in Shoko’s office making you snap your eyes open.

“Where’s Inumaki!” You shout and Shoko stares at you confusingly, yet before she can say anything you’re shooting up, running out the door.

You run down the halls, and even though your head is pounding so is your heart. You’re breathless, looking like a crazed lady as you roam the dorm.

You slow down once you see Inumaki in front of your dorm door, with flowers that look all too familiar. Hand-picked flowers from the bunch he’d been growing.

You could tell he looked distraught as he contemplated leaving the flowers in front of your door, a small with them as well.

“Inumaki?” You call out to him and he jumps, snapping his head towards you.

His eyes are wide as he blinks at you. You slowly inch towards him, stopping right in front of him.

“Are those for me?” You ask sheepishly and his ears flush red holding the flowers and note towards you.

You smile down at them, moving to open the letter he rests his hands on top of you preventing you from opening it. You both are shocked by his action but he pulls away fast. He coughs awkwardly, patting your head and then he’s rushing away.

You enter your room, eager to read what he has said in the letter. You sit down on your bed, and opening it.

‘Hi Y/n, I’m sorry for not protecting you on the mission, I hope you feel better. Thank you for saving me, that was brave of you since we don’t really know each other that well. I hope you like the flowers, I’m pretty sure you know they're from outside the dorm rooms, I saw you staring >:) Anyways…I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t like talking to you, you make me nervous lol, but I like being around you. Even though you’re not talking to me, I like how it feels to be around you. Here’s my number, it’s easier to talk with me like this. I really hope you get better and I’m still sorry, I also hope we can get to know each other better :)’ — Inumaki.

You smile fondly at the letter, and you hug the note close to you, already clicking his number in your contacts.

You finally got the opportunity to talk to the boy you admired, you weren’t gonna waste any time!

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[spaceshipellie]

for the ethel cain requests!! i absolutely adore this idea!! can i get one with abby and, "something they all want that only you can have"

in tlou universe! with fluff or angst! (maybe have it set in the stadium or on patrol!)

“something they all want that only you can have”

pairing: abby x reader

summary/warnings: all the girls want to be with abby but she only wants you. tlou au, fluff, flirty tension. this is really short but cute

you couldn’t blame abby for how many girls had a crush on her. or the way they’d stare with stars in their eyes at her in the gym. watching the way the muscles moved in her arms and back when she lifted weights. it was enough to make anyone swoon but that didn’t mean you didn’t get jealous.

it was crazy, really. you weren’t even dating! just very close friends who occasionally flirted and every time you hoped she’d take it a step further, she never did. right as you thought she might lean in and kiss you she’d playfully punch your arm and call you dude or something instead. maybe that was her way of flirting or maybe she just saw you as a friend. either way, you were determined to find out sooner rather than later.

“so, how was your workout earlier?” how was your workout earlier? you couldn’t be any more pathetic if you tried. you strolled alongside abby through the building you were currently investigating on patrol.

“it was good,” she chuckled, shooting you a quick glance as her hand momentarily brushed your side.

“good,” you nodded, not really knowing what you wanted to follow up with.

she spread a large hand over her shoulder and rotated it. “already starting to feel sore though, might have over done it a bit today.”

“yeah, you really seemed to put on a show for the girls,” you half laughed, half mumbled.

“what was that?” she queried but her laugh told you she heard what you said.

you tried to hide your embarrassed smile from her teasing look. “nothing, nothing.”

“you jealous or something?”

“what?! no, no–“

“i’m fucking with you.” she stopped to push a door, holding it open so you could walk in under her arm.

you both searched the new room, finding a stack of dusty books on one of the counters. you wiped some of the dust off with your fingers before wiping your fingers on your jeans.

“hey, don’t you have a copy of this?” you asked, holding up the copy of little women to show abby.

“i do, it’s a good book. you should read it.”

“hm, maybe i’ll take this then.”

she sauntered over to you, taking the copy from your hands and flicking through.

“you can always just borrow mine. besides, this copy is only part one where they’re kids, mine is the complete story,” she mildly bragged, giving you a smirk.

“oh, fancy,” you teased, “okay, i’ll take you up on that.”

her fingers brushed yours and her eye contact lingered as she handed you back the book before you set it down again. you felt yourself growing nervous under her gaze and had a feeling she was enjoying it.

“good.” her voice was low and silky.

you cleared your throat to snap yourself out from her hypnotic trance and looked down at your feet.

“we should probably worry more about infected than literature,” you tried to joke.

“eh i wouldn’t worry, think we’re all alone up here.”

“i see.”

you pretended to keep looking around, trying to find supplies or take an interest in anything that might make it look like you weren’t just burning with the urge to grab her. you spotted something on the top shelf that looked like it could be spare ammo but groaned in annoyance when you couldn’t reach it. as you were about to try climbing onto the counter you felt a warm hand on your back.

“let me,” she said, softly pushing you aside, her hand remaining on you.

you froze on the spot even when she brought the items down to show you, smiling as she then shoved them in her backpack.

“thanks,” your voice cracked.

“s’okay.”

you realised how close you two were and how she wasn’t making any attempt to move away. the urge to lean in was so strong you were convinced your body would do it against your control anyway if you didn’t do something. despite abby’s flirty nature with you, you still weren’t sure if she meant anything by it.

“so, i overheard nora talking about you earlier. coincidentally after you’d just left the gym.”

she chuckled slightly. “and what did she say?”

“she was talking to leah about how she thought you looked hot, and would die if you ever asked her out.” nerves were creeping into your voice.

“oh yeah? that’s… good to know i guess.”

your shy eyes snapped up to meet hers. “so, you would ask her out?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“why not? she clearly likes you.”

“hmm, she’s cute but she’s not really the one i’d want to ask out if i could.”

your heart sunk. she liked someone.

“huh.” your voice was laced with disappointment.

“you okay?” she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards as she leaned in a bit closer.

“yeah, fine. so, why can’t you ask this other girl out?”

“oh i don’t know, might ruin the friendship.”

your breath hitched in your throat. “seeing the way they all look at you, i’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“hmm, maybe… and why are you so convinced it’s one of them? the girls that apparently love to gawk?”

“well, who else would it be?”

“take a guess, babe.”

she was impossibly close now and your insides were twisting into a pile of mush.

“i, i don’t know.”

“oh come on, try for me.”

“um, katie?”

“no.” her fingers brushed your hip.

“dani?”

“nope.” she brushed a piece of hair away from your face.

“ma–“

“i’m going to stop you before you list every girl in the WLF that’s not you.”

WHAT. “what?”

“have i not been making it obvious enough? my apologies.” her tone was sweet and her hand still continued ghosting over your skin, tempting you to lean in to her touch.

“i just thought…” you stopped yourself before you said something embarrassing.

“thought what, sweetheart? tell me.”

“i just thought… out of everyone who wants you, why would you want… me?”

you tried to look away but her hand cupped your face lovingly, making you look at her.

“i can assure you, you’re the only one i want.”

“really?”

she laughed and soaked in the way your pretty eyes scanned her face before she closed the gap and kissed you. she deepened the kiss once she felt you moving closer to her, one of your hands fisting her shirt.

“are you convinced?” she smiled against your lips.

“hmm, maybe one more will do it.”

[elsfairy]

﹕ ꒰ ྀི  🌱 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑!𝐀𝐁𝐁���� 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒   ー ♡

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who is shamelessly so nervous whenever you are around that the only thing she can do is hide away in amongst her bubble of friends, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear and stealing those subtle glances at you whenever you’re already engrossed in another conversation with someone else. that small tinted blush coating her cheeks so furiously at the sound of your laughter, and her heart melting at the sight of your bright smile.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who thinks she’s being subtle about the looks & glances she throws your way at the gym, but you’re so aware of the fact you can always feel her staring at you. of course it’s cute when you do catch her looking. seeing her so flustered at the fact she got caught. and only then will she damn near stumble over the equipment and look away so fast you’re slowly worried she gave herself whiplash with the brute force of how fast she moved.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who has to control her fuckin’ urges to touch you whenever you’re close to her by either shoving her hands so deep into her pant pockets to the point she might combust or sitting on them to avoid making you so undeniably uncomfortable. She’s already nervous to talk to you, how can she make you uncomfortable before she’s even got the chance to get to know you? Poor girl just needs the right push. you make it really fuckin’ difficult for her though.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who when you finally make conversation with her, becomes an even more nervous wreck than when you didn’t even know she existed. can’t hold any eye contact with you because it’s you, and you’re so close to her that she can smell the fruity perfume you decided to wear. who spends too much time watching your lips that she’s not making any sense with her response to your question, and nervously stuttering out letter by letter the longer you watch her. fascinated by her & how she acts around you.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who every night can’t stop herself from shoving her hands down her pants and stuffing her fingers into her soaked cunt at the mere thought of you. you’ve taken over her mind when she’s awake, but even more when she’s trying to sleep. her mind is always filled with your tight gym shorts and a loose t-shirt. how your nipple brush against the soft fabric and peek through. how your back arches when she’s shamelessly watching you work out. or better yet, how good your ass looks when you do squats. she’s so needy for you, always whimpering & crying your name over and over again into her pillow. pleading for you to fuck her harder, faster, slower. god, she’s just a whiny baby who needs you to make her feel better :(

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who manages to go through your laundry pile when you’re both starting to get comfortable with each other. maybe she’s crazy and slightly insane & fucked up but she couldn’t help herself when she noticed the lacy panties you were wearing in the gym locker room after a very long workout. her mind always spinning at how pretty you’d look under her, begging for her to take them off and do whatever she wanted to you. she was pathetic, so pathetic for pressing her nose into the fabric, loving the way they smelt of you, whimpering out those pathetic sounds knowing just how bad she needs you. “fuck.. bet you taste as pretty as you smell”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who literally has to act so cool the following morning around you knowing not only did she steal your panties, but she had them stuffed damn near in her mouth, fingers buried so deep in her cunt that she forgot her own name, eyes brimming with tears as she fucked herself for hours through the night to the thought of you taking her strap and fingers. those little thoughts of you twirling your finger around parts of her loose hair creeping in every time she tried to focus on anything but the way your breath caressed her cheek. the way her name left your lips so easily and beautifully. she was fucked. you had her so fucked.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!abby who becomes so panicked and nervous when you randomly end up hooking up at a party. worried she was gonna hurt you. touching you, kissing you, making you see stars was something she always wanted, so why couldn’t she get past those nervous thoughts? always checking with you that she was doing okay, begging you to tell her how good she’s doing for you. shaky hands brushing over every curve, drooling because you’re here. you’re under her, letting her do whatever. finally. “oh fuck.. fuck you’re so pretty, shit.. let me hear you, baby. please, need to hear you..”

[2knightt]

「 tell me about it, stud. 」

IN WHICH—you’re sandy and he’s danny!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. J.C, D.W, PB.C, SP.C!࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ tumblr please let me answer asks. people have been so sweet to me lately please tumblr

Johnny Cade ;

you met johnny during summer. you were at the beach and he looked lost, darting his head all around as if he was just teleported there.

you walked up to him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"you alright?"

johnny stuttered nonsense, unable to speak as he whipped his head around to look at you. his lips parted slightly as he looked you up and down, his head moving along with his eyes.

you chuckled awkwardly, crossing your arms as you tried to signal him to answer your question.

“oh. ye-yeah, totally. i, uhm… you’re really pretty.”

he mumbled the last part, rubbing his neck as he kicked the sand. he avoided making eye contact with you, either nervous or embarrassed. probably both.

johnny didn’t even mean to say it out loud. now he just looks like a bumbling idiot instead of a cool greaser. he sighed, biting the inside of his cheek.

you laugh quietly, saying a quick ‘thank you,’ before extending a hand out towards him.

“i’m y/n.”

“…johnny cade.”

he said it so hushed you almost thought his name was ‘johnnycake.’ he took your hand in his, shaking it.

and that’s how you met the greaser that took up your whole summer.

your friends gasp, giggling like school girls as they pretend to fan themselves off.

“did you get his number?”

“was he cute?”

“tell me more!”

johnny sighs as sodapop and dallas pressed him for more information on his soc girl he apparently had a whole lotta fun with.

two-bit was laughing like he didn’t believe it, ponyboy looked suspicious, steve was rolling his eyes right next to darry.

“did ya get very far?”

dallas teases, laughing as he grins like a cat. soda bursts out laughing, slapping his knee.

“can it, dal.”

johnny grumbled, crossing his arms as he huffs.

two-bit leans forward towards his friend, snickering. ponyboy and steve follow his actions, elbows on their shoulders.

“well, tell me more, johnnycakes!”

“yeah, tell us more, loverboy.”

Dallas Winston ;

“y/n?!”

“dallas?!”

you shout, you were both shocked. well—maybe you were a little more scared than anything.

you were just talking about him to your friends and he just shows up outta nowhere?!

dallas would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little giddy at the sight of you, smiling ever so slightly.

after the summer the two of you had, how could he not be excited to see you again?

you rush to the bleachers, basically running up the stairs as your friends follow closely behind.

you stand infront of him, a seat down. dallas looks down at you, nervous on how he was gonna approach the situation.

“wha-what’re you doin’ here?! i-i thought you were leavin’ tulsa!”

“we had a change of plans!”

dallas shoves his hands in his pockets as he jumps down to be on the same level as you.

you grin, practically jumping. dallas was smiling, ear to ear as he looked you up and down.

he looked happy seeing you, a genuine smile on his face until he glances over to his friends. but that smile quickly faded, realizing he was still with his friends. he fixed his jacket, making the collar stand up.

“that’s cool, baby. rock n’ roll.”

you furrow your brows, wondering who this guy was. was this seriously the dallas winston you spent all your time with?

“you sure this him?”

a friend of yours asks, whispering in your ear as she glares at his own gang of buddies.

you look over to her, back to dallas, then back to her. you shrug, turning around. you were getting ready to leave before you felt a hand on your wrist, stopping you from moving.

dallas puts something in your hand, closing it himself. he rests his hand ontop of yours, staring at you.

you got a little nervous the longer he stared, clearing your throat so he’d stop.

dallas couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you were beautiful during the summer and you’re even more beautiful now. he didn’t realize how creepy he looked until you coughed.

“it was nice seein’ you again, doll.”

he mumbled before rushing to his friends as they whistle and cheer.

you chuckle, walking off the bleachers. you open your hand, seeing a cigarette with a ring wrapped around it. you had told him you don’t smoke all that much, what a dunce.

is what you thought until you looked closer, seeing a phone number written into it. you grin, putting the ring on and placing the cigarette in your pocket.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you two had been seeing each other for awhile, had a thing going on since summer.

met at the beach when he was with some smaller, tanned, sad looking kid. you thought he was the cutest boy there and went up to him.

when he saw you walking towards him, he felt his heart begin to race. he knew he seemed like a loser talking to you, feeling like an imposter wearing all that hair grease.

ponyboy and you were at this dinner, eating a shared ice cream sundae. you had your menus covering the two of you, just incase somebody saw.

you two were very different at first glance. he had a sweatshirt with the sleeves ripped off, dirty jeans, and greasy hair. you had your clothes freshly ironed, hair done just right, and didn’t smell like gasoline because of your brother.

the both of you were giggling like school girls, talking about everyone and everything.

ponyboy opened his mouth to speak until the menus were suddenly tossed off to the side by three people. by the reaction pony had, you can only assume he knew the guys.

“sharin’ a sundae already? tsk, tsk, tsk.”

one of them teased with a thick new york accent. you can guess this is dallas winston.

“wow, pony. must really like ‘er, huh?”

he was shirtless and had his sleeves ripped off his shirt too. it looked like a work uniform, the hat he was wearing confirming your suspicions.

“cut it out, steve.”

pony grumbles, crossing his arms as he leans back into the chair. you look at the only one that hasn’t spoken yet, smiling at him.

ponyboy gives him a sad excuse for a smile. it suddenly clicks in your head, that’s pony’s brother, right? sodapop? now that you’re looking at him, you don’t know what ponyboy was talking about. they do look alike—but you think pony’s cuter than he is.

“gonna get married?”

the two of them laugh, holding their stomachs as they stumble back. dallas slams his hands on the table, looking at you. he looks back to ponyboy, grinning.

pony’s eyebrows furrow as he glares at his friend. he rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth in annoyance.

“so, who’s you?”

“she’s real pretty pony, how’d you get her?”

“must’ve bribed her or somethin’.”

ponyboy groans, hiding his face in his hands. you chuckle, almost entertained with everything they’re saying.

“can you guys just leave us alone?”

dallas shakes his head no, mumbling a quiet, ‘nah,’ as steve follows his actions. soda looks at ponyboy with sympathy in his eyes before smacking steve’s shoulder, pushing him towards the door. dallas follows quickly behind.

the three of them leave, but not before teasing the poor boy, leaving him a blushing mess.

“i am so sorry, y/n.”

“it’s fine, really!”

the rest of the time, he kept on apologizing. you enjoyed the sundae by yourself due to ponyboy being a blushing, embarrassed, and angry mess the rest of the time.

Sodapop Curtis ;

it was the end of the school year and your school somehow racked up the money to get a mini little fair.

you and your friends walking around as you were eyeing the ferris wheel. you tried to cox each of your friends to join you on the ride and each turning you down.

you huffed, snarling after your 5th rejection to go have fun. you cross your arms, visibly annoyed. out of pettiness, you walk off to a stand.

two people were throwing pies at their friends, four others were throwing bean bags at bowling pins. you spaced out, thinking about god knows what. shit, you didn’t even know what was so important.

someone tapped on the right side of your shoulder, so you turned your head, trying to see.

“hey, sugar.”

you hear in a hushed voice from your left side. you whip your head around, meeting sodapops gaze. you blink, shocked a little.

“soda?”

“yeah! didn’t think you’d remember me.”

he smiled, his eyes shinning ever so slightly. he jumps infront of you, looking nervous. he looks you up and down before letting out a sigh, full of admiration.

you met sodapop during the summer. it was supposed to be a summer fling, something every high school kid wants.

soda treated you real well. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. soda would be lying if he said he didn’t lay awake at night thinking of your memories together.

“how couldn’t i?”

you ask, chuckling lightly. you tilt your head, grinning. as the two awkward teenagers you are, you stood in silence.

you shifted your weight from the tips of your toes to your heels. you looked down, eyes shifting around. you looked up, noticing his eyes didn’t move an inch.

“so…you wanna go on the ferris wheel with me?”

you ask, trying to fill the silence. soda grins, a special shine in his eye at the mention of the ride. a strand of honey-brown hair fell over his face as he nodded.

“yeah. sounds real fun.”

soda grabs your hand, rushing you towards the line to get onto the ferris wheel. the two of you stand in line, joking, laughing, giggling.

soda never let go of your hand, even when the both of you enter the cart. you sat down, extending your body out the small little window to look down. you see your friends, standing in line to another ride.

you felt soda’s hand snake around your waist, a gentle but a firm grip. he held you like he was afraid you were gonna fall out of the cart.

when you two reach the top, you lean back into the seat, the cold plastic still making you shiver, even with a leather jacket on. sure, it wasn’t the best jacket when you’re on a ferris wheel. but how were you supposed to know?

hell, leather jackets weren’t even your style! you’ve never worn anything like this. it’s only natural you don’t know.

soda wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you closer. he noticed your shiver and he felt bad. he wanted to offer his jacket but the words just couldn’t seem to leave his lips.

you looked up at the sky, a small smile creeping onto your face as you get an odd sense of comfort from it. it was a clear blue, fluffy clouds appearing every now and then. one looked like a chicken.

“it’s real pretty, ain’t it, soda?”

you mumble, your eyes scanning the sky for anymore funny looking clouds. you sighed, your once tense shoulders relaxing.

“yeah, real pretty.”

sodapop says quietly. he lied, though. he wasn’t really looking at the sky. he’s glancing everywhere—but the sky, everywhere but the ground. he’s not looking anywhere, expect at you.

you ain’t never worn a leather jacket. you never smelled like smoke, you never done anything like this. soda’d be lying if he said you weren’t a sight for sore eyes.

[joojeans]

˚◞♡ ⃗ sure could’ve fooled me

♡ jealous bf!nicholas x afab!reader

♡ wc 1.5k

♡ ft euijoo

♡ content euijoo is shy, nicholas is jealous (and territorial tbh), exhbitionism but it’s nothing too crazy (is it? lmao idk not for me 😭), dirty talk, fingering, use of ‘good girl,’ cum eating

♡ a/n this was not meant to be this long but i got carried away and i’m not sorry // this was requested

all the boys said this wasn't going to be a party, but this is a party. we're just having some friends over to chill, they'd said. turns out that when there's nine of them plus you as a baseline, it doesn't take many more people to make a party. add in the fact that music is now being played very loudly and everyone is acting drunk despite there being no alcohol in the house... what is this if not a party?

your boyfriend, nicholas, loves to mingle. he's making his way around, introducing himself to anyone he doesn't know and catching up with those he does. it's cute. you, on the other hand, aren't feeling super social today, so you decide to be a wallflower. and you find the perfect wall—one with a clearly overwhelmed euijoo already pressed against it, smiling at nothing or no one in particular.

"hi, euijoo," you say in the gentlest voice you can muster as you ease yourself in the space next to him. he glances down at you, his eyes wide, curious.

"oh, hey." his smile grows even wider as it tends to do when he's not sure what to do with himself. cute.

"not your scene either, huh?" you ask, holding eye contact as you reflect a smile back to him.

"not really." he laughs softly and chews on his lip, his eyes leaving yours to scan the room.

you use the moment to take him in. he looks so comfortable in his sweatpants and hoodie, hands in the pouch. his hair is sticking out messily underneath his beanie and your hands itch to take it off and ruffle his hair. you've always been so endeared to him.

"you look so cute today, euijoo."

you probably should've stopped those words before they came out, but it's too late now. euijoo whips his head back in your direction, cheeks quickly reddening at the sudden compliment. the smile on his face can't decide whether to grow or fall off his face. he's nervous.

"w-what? i mean, thank you."

you giggle, tilting your head curiously. "are you blushing?" you already know the answer, but to make your point, you reach up on your toes, thumb stroking the soft flush of his cheeks. euijoo freezes, lips parting in shock, but he doesn't pull away from you. he's searching your eyes for answers.

"you don't have to be shy around me, eui—"

you're cut short by an arm wrapping around your waist from behind, forcing you to step back from the tall, shy boy. euijoo looks mortified and you know that can only mean one thing: nicholas. you peer up over your shoulder and confirm that it is, indeed, nicholas and he looks annoyed. thankfully, his feelings seem to be directed at you and not euijoo.

nicholas clears his throat, arm releasing you only for his hand to take hold of yours. "sorry for stealing her. i need to talk to her for a minute."

euijoo nods as if to say you don't have to explain yourself to me and nicholas is whisking you away, not stopping his one-track mind and body even when others try to catch his attention as you pass them. he drags you into the first empty room without even looking around for nosy eyes first and closes the door behind him. your stomach is in knots, not sure whether to be afraid or excited. you're both, chewing on your lip as you look up at his dark eyes.

"since when is euijoo your type?" he asks, crowding you against the counter with his body.

"he's—he's not."

nicholas hums, head cocking in disbelief. "sure could've fooled me." he plants his hands on either side of your body, palms flat on the counter, lowering himself until he's eye level with you. "not exactly sure what you're doing in here with me."

your breath is caught in your throat and you can feel arousal traveling between your legs in waves. nicholas is smirking at you, eyes dropping from your eyes to your lips. "aw, you want me to kiss you so bad, don't you?"

you both know the answer so you don't bother giving him one. he tsks and looks back up to your eyes. "that's too bad. you're going to have to earn one." he takes your thighs in his hands and lifts you until you're seated on the countertop, hands immediately wandering to the button of your jeans when you're stable on your own. he pulls it free and tugs down your zipper, arm wrapping around your waist to lift you for him as he removes your jeans entirely.

the marble countertop is cold on your bare thighs and you're shivering from a mix of the temperature and the anticipation of what's to come. "nicholas, everyone is just outside." you warn, but it's empty. at this point, you don't want him to reconsider.

"that's the point." he's laughing lowly as he says it, hand pressing against the crotch of your panties. "you wanted to let everyone see you flirting with euijoo out there, so it shouldn't hurt for them to hear you falling apart for me in here, right?" he glances down to where his hand is rubbing through the thin fabric separating you two. "and if you were really worried about that, you wouldn't be this fucking wet right now, would you?"

your cheeks burn and it reminds you of euijoo minutes earlier. nicholas presses this thumb against your clit through your underwear, tongue gliding over his lips at the small yelp that escapes your mouth. “that’s what i thought.” he rubs a few small circles before pulling your panties to the side, ringed fingers gliding through your folds. your head falls back on your shoulders, eyes closing as you revel in the feeling of being touched like this—by nicholas with others just outside the door.

“ah-ah.” nicholas scolds, free hand gliding up the back of your neck until he has a firm grip on your hair. he props your head back up, making you open your eyes in surprise. “here’s the thing, princess. this is the only bathroom in the house for all those people out there to use. we wouldn’t want to be rude and keep it all to ourselves for too long now, would we?” he pauses, waiting for you to shake your head no. “right, that wouldn’t be very nice. so let’s make this quick.”

with that, he pushes a finger inside of you, quickly adding a second as he watches your pupils blow out in front of him. you almost choke trying to soften the lewd moans that come out of you, arms shaky as you try to hold yourself up. “nicholas,” you whine softly, not really sure what you’re asking for but needing something.

“oh, baby, if you’re going to call for me, why not do it louder, mm? maybe let euijoo know that as much as you play with him, i’m the only one that gets to play with you.” his fingers are rhythmically stroking your walls, picking up pace much quicker than he usually would, and your body doesn’t know how to cope with the overwhelming stimulation. he chuckles as one of your hands grabs at his forearm as if you would ever make him stop.

nicholas keeps his free hand wrapped around the back of your neck—a reminder to keep your eyes on him—and presses his thumb back against your clit as his fingers curl inside you. you whimper, the frustration of trying to keep yourself quiet getting to you. you’re slowly losing any ability to control your body at all, thighs quaking and jaw slackening, your pretty moans filling the room against your will. “thats it, good girl.” nicholas praises, his voice practically a growl.

your body responds by clenching around his fingers and nicholas smirks, quickening his movements until your eyes are rolling into the back of your head. “cum for me, pretty. you can do it.”

and you do, hips bucking off the counter to chase his fingers as you ride out your high, his name leaving your lips in a dreamy sigh.

nicholas slows down gradually before pulling his fingers out of you, pulling your panties back in place. you wince at the feeling, not wanting the sticky fabric against your sticky cunt, but you get distracted by watching as nicholas licks and sucks your release off his fingers, winking at you as he finishes.

he squats down to retrieve your jeans. “leg, please.” you present your leg to him and he guides it inside the corresponding leg of your jeans, doing the same with the other side. he helps you off the counter to finish pulling your jeans the rest of the way up your body, fastening and zipping them for you. “there we go.”

he smiles and takes your chin in his hand, leaning forward to press the softest kiss to your lips. “i think you earned that. now go back out there and talk to euijoo. see if it’s still as much fun when your panties are a mess because of me and he’s heard you moaning my name. love you.”

he kisses your lips briefly one last time and opens the door, motioning for you to walk out first, a smug grin on his stupidly handsome face.

cr. cafekitsune for mdni banners ♡

[jillsandwhichs]

RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 6 , Time crunch

Masterlist

Pairing: F!reader x Ada Wong

Summary: Ada is about to leave from the extraction point in 10 minutes. That gives you just enough time to say goodbye

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Partners in crime

WC: 2.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: This is very vanilla, sorry y'all. Hookup, making out, slight dirty talk & oral sex (You receive)

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Silence.

It felt awkward.

The two of you just shared a very steamy kiss.

Yes, the two of you have fucked before, but never on the job, you kept it strictly professional when working, it was just a code you both lived by.

But knowing she'll be gone for awhile after these final ten minutes, neither of you can hold yourselves back, especially yourself. Ada, despite her many flaws, means a lot to you. You've both formed a bond due to your similar interests in life and work, even sexual interests. Ada is a mysterious lady, but that hasn't stopped her from allowing you to at least explore her body, in which you've done quite a bit.

You've been working together for a year now, exactly a year one month ago. Ever since, you two have always chosen each other for missions. You're both reliable and make sure the other escapes, even if your guy's selfishness begins to interfere. Ada has had to save your ass more than you have had to hers but either way, you both are there for each other. Ada was much more hardened when you first met, she's softened up somewhat now.

"How long?" "How long what?" "How long will you be gone for, Ada?" You wondered, crossing your arms and walking back and forth. You'd be alone from now on. Where was she even going and why? "Just a couple of months. I have some unfinished business to attend down in China, you understand?" Ada hummed to you. Ada was leaning against the brick wall, her thin arms at her slender sides. You do understand. She has work, and sometimes work requires you to travel.

Gazing at her, you thought about the kiss you two had just exchanged. It was hot. It was erotic. Kissing for you two is the ultimate form of intimacy. You two tend to get very touchy whenever you kiss or make out, you can't help yourselves. "I hate to say it, but, It'll be difficult without you." You admitted, your tone very low, almost as if you didn't want her to catch onto what you said. "I understand. If it makes you feel better, this won't be the last time you see me. I plan to even remain in contact with you while I am overseas." Ada also admitted something.

Her words meant a lot.

It's not like she owes you that though. You two aren't in a relationship. You two hookup, it feels good, it's nice, that's it, it isn't anything more. But, it almost seems hard to avoid one another. Ada is a drug, morphine to you. You need that woman in your system at least once within the day. Just being around her causes arousal to stir up inside of you. Every single time you both finish a mission, you guys meet up and fuck. It's a ritual at this point.

You stood there, your head tilted down, your eyes glancing at the muddy ground. It had rained not to long ago. You and Ada were slightly wet from it, but it's dried up for the most part - In some places... You looked back up at Ada, she was gazing at you with a soft look. You began to amble closer to her, your heart thumping repeatedly in your chest as you did. Oddly enough, you felt nervous this singular time when approaching her. "I want you... For one last time." You whispered, your front finally pressed up against hers.

"You may have me for one final time." Ada bit her lower lip, it was tinted a darker shade of red, her lipstick was always an attraction.

You cupped her face in your hands, aggressively, yet passionately, pressing your lips against hers. Your lips moved in sync, it was rather beautiful actually. Ada's miniscule hands encased around your back, making sure you weren't going nowhere. She held you, her hands stroking your entire time. Her touch felt like a thousand suns. You'd miss it so very much. You are sure it won't be the last time you feel her - It can't be the last time.

Ada licked your lower lip, desperately wanting to taste you. She couldn't live without kissing you, kissing you with her tongue. Your mouth is a safe haven for her. Your mouth went slightly agape, and her tongue slipped into your mouth, an honest moan coming from her when she pushed it in. "Fuck." You grunted, your bodies flipping so that you were now against the cold, hard, red brick wall. Both of you are switches at the end of the day.

"I wanna taste you." Ada mumbled, her lips finally detaching from yours. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. Her seductive tone was enough to have your panties soaked and your pussy wanting her even more. Ada has a way with words.

You smiled at her, your head diving into the crook of her neck. Your lips found her sweet spot, and you took advantage of that. You pecked all along her neck, your breath sharp as you breathed in. Her scent was lovely too, she smelt like Vanilla and that was very sexy to you. Maybe she knew that because anytime you hookup, its what she smells like. It drives you crazy. "You want to taste me?" You cooed on her throat. "You know I do, honey." Ada responded truthfully.

That just made you drip more.

Adas eyes locked with yours as she moderately lowered her body until her face was at an alignment with your core, a look of need was on her face. Disbanding the eye contact, she gandered at your jeans and the buttons on them as she began to undo them, wanting you terribly now. "We have to be quick." "I know." You replied. It seriously sucks that she'll be going away for some time. You'll miss the way her firm tongue feels on your pussy.

Her lean fingers pulled your pants down with haste, your damp panties directly in her face. "I can already smell you." She sighed softly, breathing it all in. You moaned softly. You didn't know where to set your hands, she hasn't eaten you out in this position before. "My shoulders baby." She cooed, as if she could read your mind. Obliging, you placed your hands on her slender, boney shoulders; The stability will come into use later.

With your hands on her shoulders, her hands went to your panties, tearing them off of you as quickly as she could. Your soaked cunt was revealed to her alas. The cold, windy air hit you like a bullet, causing you to shiver. "I'll warm you up." She teased right before she buried her face in your cunt, her tongue profusely lapping at your wet folds. "Oh." You whimpered in surprise, shocked that she so soonly began to eat you out like it was the last time she ever would.

Maybe it is.

Your head leaned back against the wall, your hair already becoming a mess. The brick wall was cold on your rear, the texture of it wasn't the best either but you'd endure it just for this. "Fucking hell..." You panted, her tongue was going mad on you. Adas eyes were closed. It seemed as though she was channeling everything inside of her to make you feel good, which was clearly worked. Your legs already felt wobbly. You felt like you could fall at any second, you held onto her tighter.

The lewd noises that were being made only enhanced the sexual pleasure Ada was making you feel. That extraordinary pit in your stomach - The one that lets you know your orgasm is about to rush over you, was slowly yet surely taking over.

As she continued, Ada began to adjust your legs to be sat on her shoulders. You helped, shifting them and blowing out deeply as you felt the comfortability of it. It felt way better this way. You began to moan much more loudly, Adas tongue causing your muscles to tighten inside of you. It was hard not to, but you began to practically ride her face. You grinded your pussy up against her mouth. She didn't seem to mind, if anything, she reveled in it.

"Faster." She spat out, her nails digging into your plump thighs. Another thing about Ada is that she worships your body, especially your thighs. She'll stare at you and get horny. There is just something about you that does that to her.

Listening, you began to ride her face quicker. Your movements were sloppy but you didn't care, just as long as she was licking you, tasting you and making you feel pleased. "Oh Ada..." You let out a sharp breath. Your hands ran through her jet black hair, it was soft, healthy, easy to tug on - Which you did. "Right there, that's it." You whined. Her tonuge on your clit was exactly what you needed. The sensitive bud needed to be focused on.

She suctioned your clit between her lips, slurping on it. You slammed your head back, your back arching too, you were going to cum on her tonuge.

"Oh..."

Your orgasm flew over you. Suddenly, the crisp air made your nipples hard and your body to shake slightly, that was due to it mixing with your climax. You rode her face for a few more seconds and then you pulled away, pushing yourself up against the wall. You were still dripping, your wetness with the mixture of your squirt dripped onto the ground. Ada stood up, maintaining her gaze on you as she did.

Wiping her mouth as well, Ada spoke up.

"You tasted amazing." She said softly, stumbling over to you. You just giggled, your vision still felt hazy, you were a bit out of it, that's for sure. You stared at her for a moment. You wish you two could have more time together, you wonder if you have enough time to at least eat her out as well. Probably not. She's a very coordinated lady, she'll want to get out of her the second the correct time strikes the clock.

You pulled your panties up and then your pants, you rebuttoned them up too. You didn't want to look like a mess when it is time to go, your boss will be concerned. "Do you think we'll have time to-" "No. Two minutes until I must leave." Ada interrupted you. She just didn't want you to get your hopes up for disappointment. For some reason, you're upset. You don't care for Ada a whole lot as a person, you guys are simply forced to team up. That doesn't mean you don't care at all. A part of you is going to miss her.

As Ada was letting her eyes roam around as she waited patiently, you grabbed onto her, pouncing your lips onto hers. She gasped but quickly melted at the gesture. She swathed her arms around your neck, her fingers messing with your tied back hair. "This is my goodbye to you." You hummed, your tongue slithering along hers; The texture of it turned you on once again. "This is a good farewell then." She smiled into the kiss. Not your average smile though, very small and barely noticeable.

You slid your hands down her back and onto her ass, holding it in both hands. You squeezed her, a sigh coming from her. "I won't be gone too long." "A couple months is long, Ada." You stated. You found it to be too damn long. No one will suffice like Ada does. "You'll be fine." She cupped your face, her thumbs caressing both sides of your cheeks before she finally had to pull away, her watch buzzing.

"Gotta go."

Her hands were in yours. You wanted to homd onto her as long as possible but she backed and backed away slowly til eventually, your hand dropped from hers.

"So long, beautiful." She winked as she tilted her head before she randomly used her grappling hook to sail away. You could hear what seemed to be a helicopter in the distance, most likely her getaway vehicle. You stood there in silence, all that could be heard was that motor and your soft, calm breathing. All you can think about is how much things will be different. You'll either be alone or with a new partner, both options don't sound pleasant whatsoever.

You blew out a deep breath, collecting yourself.

"Time to go home." You whispered before you began to run off, the events of tonight on repeat in your head.

[hsfan94]

Opposite

AN: In honour of Short N Sweet coming out, here's one I wrote a year ago from the google docs. It was originally going to have a sad ending but I changed it up to fit how I'm feeling now. I hope you like it!

Y/n felt so stupid. The worst part was that she couldn’t even be mad. She was the one who got it so wrong. She could throw up from how stupid and sad she felt at the present moment. However, she was squished between Gemma and Harry in the first row of a balcony seating section at the National Theatre so she couldn’t escape.

Y/n met Harry in early 2019. She had just started out as a writer and producer. She got a call to come in for a studio session but wasn’t told anything else about the project. When she got there and walked in to see Harry Styles sitting casually on the couch in a white t-shirt and corduroys her heart stopped. It started up again, racing, when he stood up and came to greet her. Instead of shaking her hand like she would have expected, he enveloped her in the coziest hug ever.

“I’m so glad you were available to come today.” He told her, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I’m such a huge fan.”

She was shocked that he had heard anything she’d worked on let alone that he liked it. 

“Thank you,” she said. “What’s this project we’re working on today all about?”

The biggest smile grew on his face as he started to tell her all about the record and the last few songs that needed finishing. 

They hit it off so well that they never missed a chance to work together and hung out as often as possible.

That led her to here. Now. Y/n was in love with him. She hadn’t planned to fall, but with Harry it was as easy as breathing. Looking at him just melted her from the inside out, hearing his voice could calm any worry she had. Her favorite color became the exact shade of his eyes. Her favorite songs were the ones he wrote that she could imagine were about her. Realistically she knew none of them were but she’d written about him so it was nice to imagine the other way around. He was everything to her. He was also the only one who didn’t know. 

So, here she was. She had been staying in London for a project with Jack Antonoff at Abbey Road and she had gotten a call last night from her Harry. 

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” He had said, voice soft and unsure. It almost sounded like he was nervous. 

“Nothing, it’s my day off, why?” She said, picking at a piece of her comforter that had a loose thread.

“Would you want to come see this play, “The Effect”, with me?” He sounded hopeful. She could hear it in his inflections. Like he really wanted her there. 

“Harry, you already know I’d do anything you ask me to.” She smiled against her phone at the sound of his laugh coming through the line. 

“Okay then, I’ll text you the details. See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

She should’ve known from the text that her interpretation was wrong. 

It seemed like it was a date when he asked. But as she walked along the river, she couldn’t help but think that if it was a date, he would’ve picked her up and they would have gone together. 

The thought was shattered even more when she saw Gemma and Michael standing outside the theatre where he had asked her to meet him. 

Gemma, who was dressed in a lovely evening gown, noticed her rather quickly. She unhooked her arm from where it was locked with Michael’s and closed the short distance between them. 

“Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, engulfing Y/n in a tight hug. 

“I could say the same.” Y/n pulled away first and glanced between her two friends. 

“Harry didn’t tell you we were coming too?” Gemma quirked her eyebrow in that very specific way that only she and her brother can. 

Y/n only shook her head. She noticed both their gazes turn to something akin to pity so she quickly shot her focus to the stones under her feet. They were quite interesting really. Not quite cobble stone but not pavement either. 

“Oh. Well. Maybe he just forgot he invited us then.”

Y/n could hear in Gemma’s voice that she already knew what Y/n had thought. But before more could be said both her and Gemma’s phones chimed with a text saying the plan had changed and he would meet them inside. 

Y/n’s heart fell that much more when the three of them made their way through the doors. Harry was leaning against a wall, talking animatedly to a beautiful woman. She was around five foot five and all around the complete opposite of Y/n. He had that specific twinkle in his eye that only shows up when he’s interested in someone. Just as Y/n was mentally comparing the exact differences in her and the other woman’s body type, Harry looked over and made eye contact with her. She quickly forced a smile and waved at him. He leaned over and whispered something in the other woman’s ear and then strode over to meet the three of them.

“I’m so glad you could come,” he said, pulling Y/n into a hug. 

“Well I didn’t have much else going on.” She tried to keep an airiness in her voice to mask her true feelings.

“Gem, Micheal, it means a lot.” He shook Micheal’s hand and hugged Gemma.

“Yeah, I looked it up online and I’m quite excited. Thank you so much for the invite.” Gemma gave a very subtle nervous glance between Harry, Y/n and the woman he didn’t introduce them to but clearly came with.

“Well,” he reached into his coat pocket, “here are the tickets. You guys go ahead and find the seats, I’ll be up in a bit.” 

As soon as Gemma took them from him, he turned around and made his way back to his previous spot against the wall.

The three of them made it to the seats and sat in an uncomfortable silence. The tension Harry had created in just that short little encounter was weighing down on them. Harry made his way to them just before curtain and right as the play started he placed his hand on Y/n’s knee, squeezed and whispered, “I’m really glad you came.”

The whole play Y/n couldn’t focus on the actual show. She was swimming in circles in her mind trying to figure out why she had got it wrong, trying her best not to cry, and debating how to escape without drawing suspicion. There was no worse feeling than the one she got when, between all of those other attention grabbers, she would look over and see Harry staring down at Taylor (she learned her name from the program) with the most loving gaze. When the play finally ended, Y/n waited through the clapping and cheering, joining in to not arouse suspicion, but then made a great escape.

“Harry,” she said gently just as they got back to the lobby.

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for the invite, I really have to head home though, I’m not feeling too well.” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. “I hope you feel better, text me if you need anything.”

She just nodded and walked briskly out the door. She didn’t even make it ten feet before tears started streaming, silently, down her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was concerned. He had tried to get ahold of Y/n the next day to see if she was feeling any better but his calls kept going to voicemail. He wanted to introduce her to Taylor but never got the chance. Now that it had been over 24 hours (and counting) and she still had not replied to his calls and texts, he was beginning to panic. What if something terrible had happened to her on her walk home. He picked up his phone to call her for the hundredth time and it went to voicemail again.

“Y/n, it’s me again. I need to know if you’re okay. I was also hoping to discuss some things with you while you’re in town and I know you were supposed to be leaving next week… but maybe the plans changed since you have fallen ill. I’m rambling, sorry. Please, please, please just at least text me. Anything just to let me know you’re alive.”

He hung up and decided to call his sister to see if she had heard from her or noticed if something was off.

“Hey, H, what’s up?”

“Have you heard from Y/n.” He rushed the words out almost on top of her’s.

“I’m well, thanks for asking, you?” Gemma’s tone was drenched in sarcasm.

“I’m serious, Gem, I’m really worried. She’s not responding to my messages. Did she seem okay last night?” He ran a hand through his hair as he paced around the room.

Gemma let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Harry, are you dense?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Of course she wasn’t okay last night,” she said, pausing to see if she would be interrupted again and continued when he stayed silent. “You invited her to a play that you failed to mention you invited me and Micheal to as well and then she goes inside to find out you have a girlfriend.”

Color him confused. “Okay… I’m not following.”

“Right. Dense.” She took another deep breath. “I feel as though I’m betraying her trust by disclosing to you but I also cannot for the life of me believe you could be so blind. She thought it was a date.”

“Why would she think that?” His heart sped up a little.

“Hmmm… Let’s think shall we? One, you have been joined at the hip for nearly five years. Two, she was under the impression that you were both single. Three, she’s madly in love with you. Four, you’ve been-”

“What was that?” He cut her off.

“Which part? None of this should be new information.” It came out biting and flooded with irritation.

“She’s… in love with me?”

“Yes, you idiot. Do you even have a brain?”

“Oi! No need to be rude or come for my intellect. I had no idea.”

Gemma sighed again, very defeated. “Do you even hear how she talks about you? Do you see the way she looks at you? Have you heard her songs? It’s so clear to everyone who has been around you two.” He was stunned into silence. “So back to your original question, no. She’s very hurt and embarrassed. I called her last night to check in and she had been crying and insisting she was so stupid and foolish for thinking you could ever want to ask her on a date.” His heart cracked. “It was heartbreaking and I kept trying to tell her you were the stupid one but she rushed to your defense as always, your greatest defender. So I imagine she just needs some space. I know you wanted to talk to her about album four but I think the last thing she needs is to potentially hear poems about another woman who’s place she could never hope to take.”

He hadn’t realized he started crying. It was a combination of things he supposed. The influx of all this new, overwhelming information, his best friend being so upset she had holed herself up somewhere to avoid him like the plague, and his sister having such a beautiful way with words and immense concern for his friend.

“I really had no idea. I’m such an ass.”

As if she noticed the choked sound of his crying, Gemma’s voice softened. “Not an ass, just a little oblivious. But you have strung her along a bit. I mean she would argue that it's all one-sided, but I’ve been around you two a lot, including the Christmas you brought her home because “she would have spent it alone otherwise” which is very boyfriend-y.”

“How do I fix it? How can I make it right?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure you can. If you love her the way she loves you, which I suspect you might even if you have a girlfriend, then the answer is simple. If not, then I guess give her time. Hell, I’d give her time either way. But if it’s the second one, you might have to accept that she may never get over you and therefore continuing on like you were would be an asshole thing to do.”

“Thank you, for the advice. Ummm. I guess I have some things to think about.”

“You will do the right thing, baby brother, I know you will. You are a great person and an even better friend. Also, don’t tell her I told you all this.”

He let out a half hearted chuckle. “Of course. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

And with that she hung up. And Harry had never felt so heavy hearted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n had been religiously ignoring his texts and calls. She felt so stupid and embarrassed. Of course it wasn’t going to be a date and she could not believe she’d thought that so easily. Her anger and sadness were only directed at herself but she still couldn’t bear to hear his voice just yet. 

She lived and breathed music. So music was the answer. She wanted to send him a signal. She never wanted to outright tell him as it could go so wrong. But he sounded so worried, she wanted him to have a slice of understanding behind her distance. 

She pulled up her camera, sat down at her piano and started singing.

“Oh so you do have a type and it's not me…”

She poured her heart and soul into the session with Sabrina over a year ago. They had something in common at the time. They were both lovelorn over someone who preferred other people.

“She looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy?”

She recorded the whole song on her camera app and posted it to instagram with the caption, “reminiscing on writing this beauty with @sabrinacarpenter”.

She put her phone away for at least an hour, not wanting to see immediate reactions.

When she did get the courage to look she saw that Gemma had commented crying emojis and that Harry had in fact liked both the post and her comment. She was unsure if her message was really received but she tried not to think about it as she fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were knives lodged in his heart and shoved down his throat when he popped on to see her post after Gemma sent him a text about it. He loved that song. He had been the first person she showed it to when they wrote it. Yet, he never guessed it was about him and (what he assumes based on the time of writing) Olivia. But now it had more meaning to her as he did it again. Chose to be happy with someone else who in fact looks nothing like her. 

The truth was Harry had no idea if he loved her the way she loved him. From what he was uncovering about her love for him, he didn’t even know if he could love anyone that way. 

He had never shown romantic interest in her, sure, but he couldn’t understand why she was convinced he could never be interested in her that way. She was smart, talented, funny and kind. He thought she was the kind of person anyone would be lucky to end up with. He remembered one thing but that couldn’t have been enough to implant that in her head, could it?

“Is one of these ladies your date?” Jack motioned between Gemma and Y/n. 

“That’s my sister.” Harry pointed at Gemma. He was going to explain who Y/n was but Jack started off on a tangent about families and the award show. Everyone was laughing and then all of the sudden Jack had left the table and Harry noticed Y/n seemed a little off the rest of the night. 

Maybe she had thought that was a date as well and he brushed her off, be it unintentionally, and not even introduced her to Jack. But it didn’t really explain what about him overall could give her such an impression. 

If he was honest, he had never given himself time to truly think about how he feels for her. They met when he was still broken up about Camille and he really needed a friend. In a way getting to know her helped him pick up the pieces. Not too long after that though, they were separated for a long period of time because of the pandemic and then he all but ran into Olivia’s open arms. He had seen Y/n a lot in the eight months he had been single this past year and he always really enjoyed their time together but he never gave himself a moment to stop and explore how he felt about her. 

Now he found himself conflicted. He truly thought he was falling in love with Taylor but thinking about Y/n in this way (with deep thought and the ability to isolate himself and his feelings) he was starting to question his understanding of romantic love. He knew he didn’t love Taylor the way Y/n loved him. But he didn’t think he loved Y/n that way either and wouldn’t it be cruel for her to end up with someone who couldn’t give her that? Who couldn’t give her what she deserved? Gemma had told him to give Y/n time but now he felt as though he needed time too. 

Dejected, he stood up from the couch, where he had been staring out the window for the last hour, and picked up his phone. 

“Hey,” he said, when she answered. “Can we talk?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for coming,” Harry said, standing up from his usual table to greet her.

“Of course,” Taylor made a move to kiss him but he turned so she only caught his cheek. If it bothered her she didn’t let it show on her face.

They sat down and let silence fall over them.

“I don’t really know how to say what I want to say.” Harry played with the rings on his fingers. He was having a hard time looking at her as he knew he was about to hurt her. 

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Running her thumb over his knuckles she said “Take your time, yeah? I’ve got all day.”

She was so sweet and patient and he felt terrible. But he’d been stupid and rushed into something without thinking and this is where it got him.

“I think we should, maybe, take a break.” His eyes were still fixed to his hands and hers that laid on top.

“Is that… I mean… Is that really what you want? You seem unsure.” Her tone was patient and calm as if his answer didn’t matter as much to her as she thought it would to him.

“I mean yes? I know that I’m not coming off very sure. Let me start over. I’ve really enjoyed our time together and I truly think I’m falling for you but…”

“There’s someone else?” 

“What?” His eyes finally met hers.

“That’s what it is isn’t it?” She slowly removed her hands from his. “Harry, I think you’re great and the last few months have been a lot of fun, but I’m not stupid. That girl that came to the play, it’s her right?” She took a sip of her water, ever so patiently, as if she truly wouldn’t care either way because all he could find on her face was absolute understanding and it somehow made him feel worse.

“I didn’t know. You have to understand that. It seems I’m the last to know.” He paused to get a deep breath. “She’s one of my best friends and I invited her to introduce you, but she ran out saying she didn’t feel good. I hadn’t heard from her and I was worried sick because she walked home that night and my sister told me she was upset because she thought I invited her on a date. I’ve been running around my mind in circles trying to figure everything out but I’m just so lost and confused.”

She nodded once and then spoke again. “Let me help. Close your eyes.” He fluttered his lids shut and she continued. “It’s your wedding day, the music just started and the bride is coming towards you, who is it?”

He felt a smile overtake his face at the mental image of his best friend floating down an isle filled with petals, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and… His eyes shot open. “Woah.” The only word he could say.

“It was her, yeah?” For the first time Taylor had a hint of sadness outlining her features.

He nodded his head. “That was crazy, I’ve never thought about my wedding before like that.” After his initial shock faded he looked up at her apologetically. “You’re really great Taylor. You deserve someone amazing. I’m sorry that it can’t be me.”

She stood up from the table, leaned down to kiss his cheek again and spoke one last time. “Thank you Harry, you’re a great guy. I wish you all the best.” 

And just like that she left the pub and he was left alone again only this time he was more sure of what he wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s phone had been ringing non-stop and it was really getting in the way of the session.

“Y/n are you sure you don’t need to get that?” Jack asked her.

When it first started ringing fifteen minutes ago she told him she’d let it go to voicemail not realizing that whoever it was, wouldn’t give up.

“Yeah, I’ll go check it I guess.”

She had filled Jack in on all the details of her weekend so he knew she was avoiding someone but he seemed worried that her phone was going off so much. So she decided to put her friend at ease and she took it outside. It had of course been Harry. He had just finished his calling for the tenth time when a text popped up.

I know you’re upset with me, but I’d really like to talk some things through this evening if you can. Does your favourite place at 8 work?

Half smiling, because he really could have sent a text to begin with, she responded.

Sure. Now stop calling, Jack and I need to finish this track so I can make it to dinner.

He sent back a “Sorry” with the little blushing emoji and she hearted the message.

She went back inside and told Jack there shouldn’t be any more interruptions.

“Was it Harry?” He asked, the nosy git.

“Yeah, he wants to get dinner to make it up to me I guess, but the strange thing is he shouldn’t even know I’m upset with him.”

She continued on through the session with dinner out of her mind and when it rolled around to 7:00 she left the studio and headed to the restaurant.

When she got there, he had already gotten a table, secluded in the back corner. It had two lit candles and a bouquet of roses and she was really confused. Harry stood up to greet her and she noticed how fancy he had dressed and she suddenly felt her ripped jeans and cardigan put her out of place. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dressing up? I look so out of place,” She said as he came to hug her.

A frown formed on his face and he replied, “You look beautiful.”

Her insides exploded the way they always did when he complimented her.

They sat down and an awkward silence fell over them. He was just staring at her with the strangest look on his face and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, why are we here?” 

Before he could reply a waiter came to the table with a bottle of her favorite wine and poured them both a glass. She stared at the bottle with wide eyes, because how had he remembered she preferred this one to any other and why had he ordered them a bottle, it was going to cost a fortune.

“Harry What-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He gently placed a hand over hers.

“For what?” She was going to lose her mind soon.

“I’ve been horrible and blind and I’ve hurt you. I can’t begin to apologize in a way worthy of your forgiveness.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?” She hadn’t been aware that he knew she was upset. 

“I’ve been a selfish fool and I’m so sorry, but if you let me, I’ll make it up to you.” 

It was as if he couldn’t hear her questioning. Like he had planned out some speech and was so anxious to get through it he couldn’t allow himself to get sidetracked but she needed to understand what he was apologizing for.

“Harry,” she said sharply, dragging his attention to her face, “what are you talking about? I’m so confused right now.”

He took a deep breath and started over. “Please don’t be angry with her, she was only trying to help.” She must have made a face that screamed confusion so he continued. “My sister told me how you feel. She told me you thought the play was supposed to be a date and she called me a bunch of names for being clueless. I’m truly sorry. I genuinely had no idea that was how you felt.”

Her stomach had dropped through the floor. If she thought she had been embarrassed before, this was something much worse. “Oh um… yeah… don’t worry about it. She really shouldn’t have said anything.” She started to stand up. “You don’t have to do all this, it’s fine I’ll just…” She had started to take a step towards the door when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist and tug her back.

“Please don’t do that. Don’t leave. I want to talk about this. I want to make it up to you.” When she turned to look at him, there was a look of terror on his face at the thought of her leaving.

“I don’t know how you can. You didn’t really do anything, it’s me. It’s something I need to get over.” She reluctantly sat back down.

“I don’t want it to be something you get over,” he said fast, panic in his voice. The candles being placed just so, she could see every little detail of his face as he leaned in closer.

“What? That doesn’t make sense.” Her head shook back and forth. She had more to say, she was going to go on and on about how sad that situation would be, her in love with him, him in love with other people. But he didn’t give her a chance to continue.

“Just… Let me explain okay?” He searched her eyes for permission and when she nodded he continued. “I’ve been stupid okay? When we met I really needed a friend. A shoulder to lean on and I met you and that’s what you were. Then the pandemic happened and I got lonely and Olivia was there. I don’t know, it was just easy. Then when she and I broke up, you and I got to hangout more, like we used to and instead of letting myself ponder how I truly felt about you I started dating someone else. I met with Taylor earlier and we called it off.” He paused to drink some wine with big, long gulps, something she knew he did when he was nervous or stressed so she reached out and squeezed his hand in reassurance and a huge smile lit up his face. “She did this small thing to help me realize it was always going to be you.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “She told me to close my eyes and picture it was my wedding day, something I’ve never done, and she asked who I saw walking towards me and it was the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen. You were in a custom Harris Reed wedding dress, walking towards me and it was the happiest I’d ever felt. But honestly I think it had to happen this way, me being with her first because otherwise I may have never realized it. So in a way I’m not sorry for that, I’m just sorry I hurt you and I hope that you will still give me a chance. Since the other night wasn’t able to be our first date like you hoped, maybe this can be?” 

He took a deep breath once he was done talking and stared at her nervously. Her mind was going a mile a minute. He met with Taylor to call it off? He pictured her at the end of the aisle? He wanted this to be a date? She didn’t know what to start with. Instead of voicing every thought on her mind she started laughing hysterically. 

“Yeah right! You want to be on a date with me? Me at the end of the aisle? Harry be so serious right now. This is the worst practical joke I’ve ever been on the receiving end of. If me having feelings for you made you that uncomfortable you could have just said, no need to humiliate me this way.” She couldn’t stop laughing despite the fact that what she was saying was anything but funny. She was sure he’d join in any second to confirm her suspicions but when she was able to open her eyes for long enough he looked so mad that she could swear steam was about to erupt from his head. 

“I am being serious! Do you know what the worst part of the last few days was?” When she shook her head he continued. “It was that Gemma told me you thought, no knew, that I’d never see you that way. That I’d never want to ask you on a date and I’ve been feeling so shitty trying to figure out what I’ve done that could make you think such a thing. That the thought alone had made you so sad you didn’t want to see me or talk to me.” 

He looked like he wasn’t done but she had to interrupt him. To explain herself. She gently grabbed his hands again and spoke softly and more seriously this time. 

“Harry. You didn’t necessarily do anything, I’ve just… I mean… look at you,” she gestured at him then back to herself, “and look at me. There’s just no universe in which I’d get the guy y’a know? And that’s okay, really. I love being a part of your life no matter what. Besides I’ve seen your exes, even ones I haven’t met personally, and they’re all, well you know, smaller and prettier and the kind of girls that do get the guy. I really need to just try harder to find someone in my league even if it means it’s not you.” 

He started to cry and she hated it. She didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. 

“Y/n how could you say those things about yourself? You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, inside and out. If anything you are out of my league and I’d be lucky to end up with you. And I hate myself for never showing you properly how beautiful and special you are.” 

She stood up and came around to his side of the booth and sat beside him. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” she picked his hands up and held them in hers again, “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’ve just gone a very long time feeling like no one could ever love me, so it’s hard to believe you could want me that way. And to be fair, it’s not like I ever told you how special and beautiful I think you are. I never really gave you the chance to return the sentiment.”

He leaned his forehead against hers and brought one of his hands to her face, pulling her closer. “But you have. I just wasn’t listening properly. All your songs, it’s so obvious, I’ve just been in my own world and I’m so sorry.” His thumb swiped away moisture from her cheek she wasn’t aware had formed. “I don’t know if I can love you the way you love me, but I’d like to give it my best shot.” He kissed her cheek and pulled her into a proper hug. 

“Ok. If you’re sure.” He pulled back from her shoulder nodding and she continued. “But I don’t think this should be our first date.” His face fell. “Only because I ruined the mood.” She did her best to smile. “You had such a beautiful evening planned and a perfect apology and I threw it in your face, you deserve better.”

He shook his head, “we deserve better.” The waiter came by again to see if they were ready to order, pulling them out of their own little bubble and Harry told him they needed another moment. Once he had gone again he returned to his thoughts. “I think you’re right. Tonight didn’t go exactly as I planned but we should also have it be more special. I should put more effort in and court you properly like you deserve. I just couldn’t wait to see you and tell you how I feel that I forgot about going about this in the right way. You’ve wanted this for so long, you deserve to know it’s a date before you’re on it.”

“I think that sounds great.” She smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek this time. “Now shall we have dinner? I’m actually really hungry.” 

As if on cue her stomach let out a loud unpleasant noise. His eyes widened and shot down to it then lifted back up to hers. 

“Apparently,” he said and she burst out laughing, making him smile too. 

She got up to return to her side of the booth. Once she was sitting back down she noticed he looked disappointed at the space so she slipped her ankle around his under the table while she picked up her menu. As if she was going to order something other than her usual. She always ordered the same thing even though every time they leave she says she’ll try something new next time. 

When the waiter came back they placed their orders and he took their menus. She finally allowed her gaze to return to Harry and he looked positively giddy. 

“What?” she said. 

“I just love you.”

Her heart did somersaults in her chest. He hadn’t actually said those words yet. She picked up his hand again and brought it to her mouth. She placed the most delicate kisses to each knuckle and then lowered it, intertwining their fingers before resting them on the table. 

“I love you too.”

They just smiled at one another for a moment and then his face lit up in something akin to realization. 

“You’re supposed to be leaving this week.” It came out deflated. 

“Yeah. Jack and I only have the studio for three more days. But I don’t have anything else for a couple weeks so I could always stay longer.”

His smile came back. 

“Good,” he said. “I want to take you on our first date.” He paused, looking deep in thought like he was battling his next thought. “I guess since we talked all this out I can go ahead and ask. Do you want to work on my next album with me?”

Her cheeks were going to break from all this smiling after four days of mostly crying, but he was just too cute. 

“Harry, did you think because I was sad I wouldn’t want to work on a project with you?” He nodded and she spoke again. “You should know I’m always going to say yes to you.” She twisted the ring on his middle finger, one she had given him last Christmas. 

“No it’s just that…” he seemed unsure of how to say what he wanted so she gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Gemma told me it would be inconsiderate to have you work on songs about someone else but to be honest now they’re more likely to be about you.”

“I’m going to have to have a serious talk with my sister-in-law then.” She’s always referred to Gemma as her sister but she didn’t realize she’d never done so in front of him because the look that took over his face was a sight for sore eyes. “Maybe I’m a masochist but I would have still said yes. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t ask me to be your collaborator. That’s what brought us together. It’s what we do best. I mean not to sound narcissistic but no one will ever strike gold the way we did with Fine Line.”

He laughed brightly at her comment. 

“Well,” He started, a smirk taking over his face, “hopefully it won’t be the thing we’re best at for long.” He dropped his left eye in a wink and she cackled. 

“You’re insane. Talking about wanting to court me properly then not an hour later you’re trying to get me into bed.” She nudged his shin with her foot playfully. 

Another wave of silence fell over them but it was peaceful and easy because things were always easy with them. Their food came and they ate with little conversation but kept up their playful glances and touches. When they were done eating, Harry stood up and took out his wallet. 

“H, he hasn’t even brought the check.” 

“I know but I can’t wait to get you alone.” He fished what she thought to be way too much money out of his wallet, probably close to £1000 for a meal that was maybe £200, and dropped it on the table. He extended his hand to her and she took it. 

“Do you want to come to mine?” He asked once they were out the door. 

“Mr. Styles! Are you suggesting that we should engage in premarital sex? How scandalous of you.” 

She giggled once she got the words out and he laughed loudly. They stopped for a moment on the sidewalk and he turned to face her. 

“Well, not necessarily but I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.” 

He had her favorite of his smiles plastered on his face and she couldn’t take it any longer. She reached up, planted both her hands on his face and pulled his lips to hers. He let out a squawk of surprise at first and then his hands came to her waist, following her lead effortlessly. He broke them apart after only a moment and she let out a whine of disappointment. 

“Baby, we should really wait until we get home,” he said softly.

Butterflies erupted throughout her whole body. She grabbed his hand again, interlacing their fingers, and smiled up at him. 

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

[backtotheshitshow]

Wood & Words

Woodworker! James Potter x Princess! Reader.

Summary: Y/n was looking for the castle woodworker to make her some new thing but she might have found something else instead.

Warnings: i don’t know fluff? James has trouble reading in this one….its for the plot I promise.

Part2

James was on his way back from gathering wood from a nearby grove, his horse carrying the necessary gear to pull the massive logs back to the castle grounds.

As they trotted down the path through the fields, he looked about, taking in the scenery.

The grass around him was still damp from the last rain, but the sun was starting to warm the air to be comfortable and he enjoyed the feeling of being out and working.

He dismounted his horse as he arrived back at his wood shed, beginning to unload the logs from the cart.

There’s a small knock on the door of the shed.

“Excuse me. Um Mr Potter is it?” James hears from near by, causing him to stop what he was doing .

To his own surprise he turns to see the princess.

He quickly hid his surprise and nodded to her. He couldn't help sneaking a glance at her.

Her beauty was stunning, and just seeing her made his heart beat faster, a wave of heat running through him.

He smiled at her, his hazel eyes twinkling. He found himself staring at her, captivated by her presence.

"Yes, I'm James... Potter, your majesty." He answered her trying to not look to nervous.

He was very used to being left alone so the sudden visit was setting off his nerves a bit.

“Um how can I help you?” He asked.

“Ah yes… I’ve come to inquire about something.” She said stepping further into the wood shed towards James.

“Of course how can I be of servous?” He said wipping his hands on his pants and taking a few steps forward.

As he got closer she mentally noted that he was a lot more handsome than she thought he might be, despite the dirt that speckled his face and clothes.

“I’m aware that you often make things for the castle. Chairs and things. I was wondering if you would be able to make a few things for me?” She asked, holding her hands behind her back.

“I’ve brought a um…a list.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her sleeves.

James looked down at the list that he was handed. As he looked at it, an awkward realization dawned on him.

The letters on the parchment swirled as they always did. As if his eyes refused to focus. An irritated look spread across his face.

“Is there something wrong Mr Potter?” She asked concerned.

He looked at her with a sheepish smile. “I’m not…I’m afraid I’m not very good with words your majesty.” He hands her back the list, avoiding her eye contact.

“Oh…” she seemed shocked by his response.

“I’m so very Mr Potter I…I did not mean to…” y/n cut herself off. “That’s alright. I was only hoping you could make me a new book stand, an easel and a stool, I doubt you need a list for that” She said a bit more confidently.

James smiled warmly as she apologised. Not being able to read wasn’t usually a problem. Most of his instructions came with pictures. And it’s not as if he couldn’t read at all, he knew basic words.

"Absolutely, Princess. I can make that for you. Do you have any specifications on what you want them to look like?”

“No. I’m sure whatever you make will suit perfectly fine.” She was quiet for a moment as she thought.

“Perhaps I can repay you for your service Mr Potter. You make the things I asked for and I can perhaps help you with your reading skills?”

James liked that she was being so kind, but the thought of anyone, let alone the princess helping him read made him feel less than adequate.

“There’s no need for that you majesty. This is my job after all, no need for repayment….” James says.

“Well I can still help either way. I’d love to get you some books perhaps.” Y/n offered with a smile.

James was getting irritated, he was trying to be nice but she kept pushing the subject. He didn’t wish to talk about his reading abilities anymore.

“Fogive me if I speak out of turn your majesty, but I don’t wish for you to teach like I am some small child. I have done perfectly fine in life so far with out it.” James says turns away putting some wood in a barrel.

Y/n felt saddened by his response. She hadn’t meant to upset him.

“I-I apologise Mr Potter I did not mean to offend you. I simply…..” she sighed, looking down.

“Very well thank you for taking on this task. I will return Friday next week. Will that be enough time?”

“Yes that should be more than enough time.” He said bluntly.

“Well thank you…um have a nice evening.” Y/n said leaving quietly.

James watched her leave. His heart was racing and his mind was racing even more, He was not sure, but he couldn't help feeling as though he’d disappointed her some how.

……

The following day y/n returned to the wood shed, knocking quietly as she had the day before.

“Mr Potter? Are you here?” She called.

James heard her voice as he was working on her book stand. He wasn't sure why she was here when they had agreed on next Friday, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy to see her and find out what she needed.

"Yes! I'm here! I'll be out in just a minute," he said, not wanting to keep her waiting much longer.

“No no take your time I’ve only come to drop off a small gift” y/n explained.

James walked towards her, face dirty and hair a mess, wipping his hands of sawdust with a rag.

James raised an eyebrow at the mention of a gift. He would not complain, but he could not understand why the Princess would want to give him anything, let alone a gift.

“A gift, your majesty?" he asked, still taking the time she offered him.

He was curious and, at the back of his mind, just a touch excited. It wasn't every day that a beautiful princess went out of her way to give him a gift.

“Ah yes….I know you said you didn’t want my help. I understand how you may have felt yesterday. I can see how it may be a bit of a sensitive topic for you. I found this at the markets today.” She placed a book entitled ‘Reading 101’ on his work bench.

“It’s not a childrens book. It’s more..mature then that I thought it might help.” She gave a quick smile.

James wasn’t sure what his reaction should be, he had said he didn’t want her help, but this gesture made it clear she wasn’t taking no for an answer and that oddly comforted him.

Y/n saw the unsure look on his face. “Please except it. I only wish to help.” She blurted out.

“Very well. Thank you.” James said. Moving back to his work.

“Oh…right yes. You’re welcome.” Y/n replied.

James took a glance over to her, he noticed a defeated look on her face. As she began exiting the wood shed he called out to her.

“Your majesty!”

Y/n turned around quickly.

“I mean it…thank you.” He said.

A beaming smile creeped its way onto her face. “Have a nice evening, James.” She said before disappearing.

—————

Hope you enjoy.

Feedback and suggestions are always helpful.💜

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 6

Summary: The sixth part to iFall for Harry

You and Harry are finally meeting for the first time.

And it doesn't go how either of you planned.

Word Count: 2.6k

“This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy.”

And despite this acceptance, your feet continue to carry you down the streets of New York toward Ellen’s Stardust Diner.

You went back and forth on this decision all night. Tossing and turning in your bed as you stared at his contact in your phone.

You debated texting him that you couldn’t do it. Debated claiming that you didn’t want to lose what you had. Didn’t want to make it…real.

Not to mention you still don’t know if he’s even real. Or if your safety will be called into concern. You don’t imagine he’ll be able to do much in a crowded diner.

But you never know.

Your fingers play with the necklace dangling down your chest, fiddling with it mindlessly as you continue to approach the restaurant.

You’ve never been so nervous in your life. How did you get here? Of all the situations to find yourself in, this is where your life led you? 

You can see the sign just up ahead, and your stride slows to a stop.

If you want to turn around…this is your time. 

Right now. 

Just…turn around.

And pretend it never happened.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, forcing your eyes away as you reach for it and slide up on the screen.

You find a text from Harry.

Ever tried eating a clock? It’s very time consuming. 

 Despite yourself, you laugh, eyes rolling as you get ready to respond.

But before you can, his bubbles are reemerging, and a second text comes in.

Maybe see you soon?

You swallow and glance up at the diner, fingers tapping the back of your phone. What are you gonna do?

With a deep breath, you type, Maybe see me now. I’m outside.

His reply is instantaneous: Back booth in the corner.

And now, it’s a step past real. It’s happening. You really are going to meet the face of the man whose voice you came to, and maybe…maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

Nevertheless, your feet continue to take you to the front door while your hand reaches for the handle and brings you inside.

The restaurant is crowded, and your heart hammers inside your chest as you look around for any indications of the stranger you’re here to meet.

You wonder yet again if he’ll be what you expected. If his face will match that outrageously sexy voice of his. If this one meeting alone will send you into therapy for the rest of your life.

And then…you see him.

At least, you think you see him. A dark, hooded figure crouched in the shadows of the booth in the corner as you cautiously make your way over. 

You clear your throat, ready to call out to him but stop. What would you even say? Do you say his name? Make a joke? Silently slide into the booth?

“So, you ate a clock, huh?” you decide as you approach, and watch as his head lifts. “Need a hand?”

You almost wince as the joke settles between you but before you can…he smiles.

The entire room seems to go quiet as you take each other in. He’s got a dark hood pulled over his head, and sunglasses perched atop his nose. His blue jeans are ripped, one leg tapping fervently beneath the table before slowly coming to a stop as he straightens up and looks at you.

And then…he reaches up, and slips the glasses off. 

Your eyes meet for the first time and instantly, everything changes.

At first, you aren’t sure why. Aren’t sure what this odd feeling in your chest is but it creeps up the back of your throat as he leans back and runs his tongue over his lip.

“Hi,” he breathes, and the familiar rasp to his voice is somehow both comforting and exhilarating. 

It really is him.

You take another step closer, studying his features closely as the prickle crawling up your spine increases. 

You feel like you know him. You know him. You aren’t sure how, aren’t sure why. Is it simply because of the relationship you’ve built over the phone? Have you actually met him before? Does he know you?

“Hi,” you finally respond, slowly slipping into the booth as well, brows furrowing together. “It’s…you.”

“Yeah,” he grins before his expression falls, and a hint of guilt begins to creep through. “Yeah. Shit. I…okay, I should have told you. I know, but I…I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you’d…care? I guess, and I—”

I should have told you. Your head tilts. Told you what? 

“—which wasn’t important to me. And I didn’t know if it would be important to you,” he continues, mistaking your confusion for betrayal. “And then you assumed I was a stripper or something, and it just…it seemed easier than actually…telling you? You know? And it could just be us, and not all the extra bullshit—”

“Wait.” You lean back, once again studying him as if to find the answer within his features. “Wait, I…I know you.”

His eyes soften but he offers no explanation.

And it’s going to kill you because you do know him, but you aren’t sure how or why and you don’t understand why he assumed you’d know him, or what he’s saying, and—

“Oh, my god,” you whisper as the realization finally finds you. “Oh…my god, you’re…you’re…”

Harry fucking Styles.

It hits you like a fucking train until you feel dizzy. Until there’s a catch in your breathing pattern and you nearly choke on the truth.

He sighs as he glances down at his hands which are placed on top of the table. He won’t look you in the eye. He feels ashamed. Embarrassed under your understanding of who he is.

You aren’t sure what you expected of him. You don’t expect him. You don’t even know him.

You know of him. Know who he is in general. Seen his face on billboards and all across social media. Your friends used to be obsessed with him. Some of them still are. 

He’s everywhere.

And he’s here. Sitting right across from you. As if he isn’t one of the most famous people in the world.

And he didn’t fucking tell you.

Or maybe he did. He told you his name was Harry. He told you he entertained for a living. You were the one who thought that meant something else.

And you never asked any follow-up questions. 

But still…to pursue you all this time without so much of a mention?

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself, that anxious pit returning to your stomach for an entirely different reason. “Why didn’t you…why would you even want to meet with me?”

His head shakes once before he looks back up. “Honestly? I don’t…I don’t know. Your first text found me at a really hard time. And it was nice to…escape. Into this idea of just…being. Just you and just me. And nobody else. A bunch of cheese puns and some great phone sex.”

The recollection makes your cheeks flush. But it burns, this memory. Of knowing you did this with a stranger. With him.

“I didn’t think I’d need to tell you. At least for a while,” he admits, finger tapping against his arm. A nervous habit, you assume. “It was just some flirty texts. It wasn’t gonna go anywhere. And then…I just kept thinking about it. About you. About your voice, and your jokes, and your ability to make me feel like I had come home. Even when we’d never met.”

You stay quiet, lashes fluttering as you wait for the next part. 

He runs a hand down his face and swallows a groan. “Look, I…fuck. Sorry, I just…I don’t know. I don’t know, I wasn’t…I don’t think. When it comes to you. I guess. And I didn’t think, and I just asked you to meet me, and I guess I thought we’d just figure it out, and it’d be fine. And that me being me wouldn’t actually matter?”

“But it does,” you say, murmuring your only thought as he pauses. “It does matter. How could it not, it’s…you’re…shit.”

You press yourself back into the booth, almost as if trying to disappear from the conversation altogether. 

You don’t know what to think, what to say. What is there to say? He’s…he’s him. It’s him. And you’re you. And these ideas that you painted of a mystery man effortlessly sweeping into your life are shoved aside.

Because there’s no mystery around this man. How can there be? Everything he’s ever done, ever thought, ever wanted has been broadcast in front of the whole world.

So where does that leave you?

You feel your eyes widen as a new idea occurs to you. “Why am I here, Harry?”

He blinks. “What…what do you mean? Like…here, like the diner? Or—”

“What do you want?” you reiterate, a bit louder than you had intended. “What was all of this for? Did you just want someone to get you off? Were you bored? Did you need inspiration?”

His lips part as he straightens up. “What? No. No, I wasn’t…I wasn’t even—”

“Then what? Why am I here?”

He hesitates, a look of hurt flashing across his face. “I thought you’d want to be here.”

You scoff. Unphased by his coy attempt. “Did you? Or did you just need someone to make you feel like a big man?”

His shoulders slump. “No, that’s…look, I didn’t mean to make you feel…betrayed or anything—”

“How did you think I was gonna feel?” you retort. “What did you think was gonna happen? Did you expect me to see you and just fling myself into your arms? Thank you for gracing me with your time and attention? Feel blessed to even be in your presence?”

“No,” he just about growls, growing tired of your accusations. “Why—no. No, I just…I thought—”

“What? Thought you’d fuck with my mind a bit before sending me on my way?”

“No, I—”

“Then what? Is this some sort of…prank? Some…some…scheme to make you look good? Harry Styles and his charity case? Is Ashton Kutcher gonna pop out and tell me I’ve been punk’d?”

His lip curls up in sneer of disdain as he looks away, almost as if stung by the very insinuation. “You think I asked you here just for the fucking publicity?”

“I don’t know why you asked me here,” you repeat, leaning closer to really nail in your point. “I don’t know what you want from me—”

“I just wanted to talk,” he snaps, turning back to you. “To meet you. To…to try and start a real friendship with you.”

“Yeah? And then what?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know. I…—”

“You don’t know me,” you remind him. “We don’t know each other. In fact, all I know about you is that you were bored enough to talk to the stranger in your phone. That’s it.”

“You really think that’s all this was?”

“I don’t see what else it could have been. You’re Harry fucking Styles. You can talk to anybody you want.”

“I didn’t want anybody. I wanted you.”

Now, it’s your turn to hesitate. That self-assured way he speaks forcing your chest to grow tight. 

“Well…you had me,” you say. “You had your fun and you got what you wanted.”

“Did I?”

The booth falls silent, save for the bustling sounds of the other customers as they eat and catch-up.

You stare at him and he stares at you. 

You aren’t sure why you’re so angry with him. Aren’t sure where you really got the gall to yell at one of the world’s most beloved men.

But right now, to you, he’s not Harry Styles.

He’s just…Harry. The guy in your phone. The guy that made you laugh, and made you come, and made you realize that maybe it was okay to be happy.

You feel…used. And scared. And unsure. You aren’t sure what you wanted to happen, either, but it wasn’t…this.

Did you really expect him to just…be everything you needed him to be? Did you really assume that this random guy you sent cheese puns to would turn out to be your dream partner? That you’d meet, and fall in love, and live happily ever after?

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But it doesn’t matter because Harry Styles can’t give you happily ever after.

He can’t be what you need him to be.

And even worse…you’ll never be what he needs you to be.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, breaking the charged silence as you suck in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you’re so…disappointed that it’s me. I’m sorry this wasn’t what you wanted.”

You feel your expression fall as your heart lurches.

“But I’m not sorry you found my number instead of his,” he continues, and despite the outrage, you sense that he means it. “I’m not sorry we got to talk. I’m not even sorry we met, I’m just…I’m sorry that I’m not who you wanted me to be.”

For a moment, you want to correct him. Want to take everything back and assure him that it’s not about who he is. 

It’s about accepting who you are.

Accepting that everything you both put into this…stops now. That it was all leading to a first hello and a final goodbye in a New York diner.

“Harry…” you begin, anxiously picking at your nails as you sigh and look for the right words. “I’m…I know you meant well. Okay? I do, I know. And I liked getting to talk to you without all the other bullshit. I liked getting to just…trust you. Getting to just be.”

He seems to perk up, growing hopeful.

“But…come on,” you continue, lip between your teeth, almost as if fighting your own response. “You…you can’t really expect us to just…carry on as friends, you know? Not when you’re…you. And I’m me.”

He gets ready to respond before you watch him think better of it, once more slumping into the booth as he snorts to himself. “Yeah.”

You regard him carefully. A hundred and one viable responses come to mind…but instead, the only thing that you choose to say is, “It was nice to meet you.”

He sits up, looking wounded and just a touch disappointed. “Come on, don’t…don’t do that. You don’t have to go.”

But you’re already sliding from the booth, refusing to look back for a final glance. 

Because if you do…you might not go.

You turn away from him and make your way for the door, vaguely aware of the sound of him standing as well. 

“Come on, wait,” you hear him call as you enter the busy sidewalk and become immersed by the large crowds. “Wait—”

And the desperation and urgency in his voice brings you to a stop as you cautiously glance over your shoulder.

He’s followed you out, ready to chase after you but freezes as a couple of girls begin to approach. 

“Oh…my god,” one of them gasps, eyes lighting up. “You’re…oh, my god.”

“Yeah, hi,” he smiles softly, his entire mood seeming to shift as he looks between them. “S’nice to meet you.”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re literally…holy shit,” the other girl squeals, already pulling out her phone. “Can I get a picture?”

He hesitates, eyes flicking over to find you, almost as if pleading with you to stay. To give him one minute. 

But soon, one minute becomes two. 

And two becomes three.

And soon, there’s at least twenty people beginning to flock toward him. They call his name, and they try to touch him, and hug him, and get his picture, and his autograph.

They take up every last second of his freetime.

And he does his best to grin through every moment of it. Does his best to make sure everybody feels seen and appreciated. He takes pictures and talks and hands out hugs like candy.

And when he finally looks back up…

You’re already gone.

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

Next Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 7

Previous Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 5

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[spencersfavouritebookmark]

Hi, Rossi's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he is very shy.

HIIII! I was kind of busy so I’m really sorry if this seems rushed but I finished it!! Please tell me if you want a part two :)

Word count: 1k

Content: pure fluff!! You’re rossis younger sister at a regular fbi house party

Hope you enjoy x

You loved being invited to your older brothers parites, granted they weren't as lively as the clubs you frequented with your friends. Another advantage of these parties is getting to tease the FBI's favourite resident genius.

Although Spencer isn't the kind of guy you'd normally go for, there's something so much better about him than any other man you've ever met. He's quiet, almost known for standing in corners and observing. And he knows everything, and it's ot even like he's just reeally humble about it, he's just clueless about how amazing he is.

Currently, Spencer is mingling in the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee. He looks bored, scanning the crowd with a mixture of resignation and mild curiosity. His expression lifts when you approach.

"Hey," Reid says softly, running his fingers through his messy brown curls.

"Hey, pretty boy." You reply teasingly, sipping from a large glass of some sort of fancy italian wine.

Despite having hears the nickname hundreds of times, he can still feel himself blushing a little when it comes from your mouth. It's not the alcohol, either, it's just the way you say it.

"You know. I have a name you can use instead." He mumbles, struggling tomaintain eye contact as his cheeks flush a gentle pink.

"Pretty boy is more fitting." You smirk, placing your wine glass down and leaning back against the counter that Spencer is also leaning on.

Reid shifts a bit awkwardly at your response. He really hated how easily you made him flustered. He also knew you did it deliberately, just to get a rise out of him.

"It's really not." He says with a huff but he can't help the small smile appearing on his face. He places his now empty coffee cup down next to your wine glass.

You've always known that his self confidence was a little low, everyone knew. But you didn't realise that he was blatantly oblivious to his own looks. "Hey, now that's not fair. You don't think you're pretty?" You ask quietly, looking into his eyes for confirmation.

Reid sigh softly, the tips of his ears and his cheeks blushing an even deeper red. He knew he was blushing, he could feel the heat in his cheeks. He looks down at his feet, avoiding your gaze.

"Please don't call me pretty... It's embarrassing." He mutters, running a hand nervously through his hair to try and distract himself from the way you look at him.

You feel a pang in your chest at his words and you move to stand in front of him instead of beside him. "Don't you go all shy on me now, Spence." I say with a smile.

Reid glances back up at you reluctantly. He finds it a lot harder to avoid the eye contact when you're standing directly in front of him now, His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest at having you so close, he can't help but blush even more.

"I- I'm not being shy-" He stutters out, his eyes shifting nervously around everywhere but your face.

"I know I'm not a profiler but I can tell when you're lying." I smirk "What makes you so nervous?"

Reid groans internally. He hates how easily you could read him, you probably knew him better than he knew himself. He swallows down a lump in his throat, trying to calm his heart which is hammering in his chest.

"You know why I'm nervous..." He mutters, his cheeks still red. Although was avoiding eye contact, it felt like his senses were heightened with you so close to him.

Spencer takes a shaky breath as he feels your eyes on him, his heart continuing to race in his chest. His nervousness rising due to the close proximity between the two of you. He swallows hard before shifting his gaze back up to your face, his eyes focusing on your lips for a moment before looking back up into your eyes.

"Can I ask you something without you teasing me..?"

You nod gently, silently encouraging him to say what he wants to say.

Reid nods slightly, his cheeks still a rosy red from blushing.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet for a moment before speaking.

"You... you don't really think I'm attractive... do you?" He asks, looking away from you again nervously. His voice is quiet, almost as if he was embarrassed to ask such a question.

"Spence" you giggle softly "Of course I think you're attractive."

You straighten his tie for him, in hopes that the closeness will help him to open up a little more. Your eyes lock in on his eyes, a sense of stillness filling the space between you.

"Come out with me for dinner tomorrow night?" You ask abruptly.

Reid tenses up slightly when you touch his tie, the touch of your hands feeling like fire against his neck and sending pleasant shivers down his spine. He takes a breath before his eyes lock with yours. For a moment he forgets everything else just disappeared from existence, leaving just the two of you behind.

"I... what?" He splutters

Reid's brain short circuited for a moment, needing a second to process your request before answering your answering.

"D- dinner?.. With you?"

Reid continues to look at you, disbelief on his face as he processes your question. He swallows hard, looking flustered and caught off guard. He wasn't expecting you to ask him on a date, sure he had wanted to ask you out for ages but he always thought you were out of his league and you didn't think of him that way.

"You... you want to go on a date?.. With me?"

He repeats, just to confirm that what he heard is true.

"Of course I do." You smile softly, gently taking his hand in yours.