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#that's why we feel a certain way when we walk through an old ruin

stillnotyourmusebitch · 4 months

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Ain't nothing but a shower scene - Hellboy x Afab!Reader

I am reposting my old hellboy fics on tumblr again.

(These are from my old account)

I had to admit that HB truly had the best shower in the whole of the Colorado B.P.R.D. headquarters. So, when I get the chance to make use of these facilities, you know I will.

But sadly, due to the sheer amount of bloody research I have had to complete over the past eight days, I haven’t been able to see very much of or be anywhere near Hellboy. If it wasn’t for Alice insisting, I really need to take a break and that it wasn’t normal to go so long without sleep, food or the basics of hygiene.

Normally I would flip her off, then go back to my work. Drinking my umpteenth coffee of the day, but I hate to admit it the kid was right. Gods, I could actually smell myself. That is never a good sign.

Marking my place in the old dusty tome I was halfway through reading/translating. I scrape the chair backwards unceremoniously loud along the floor to let people near me know I was in fact leaving the much-needed research table and if anyone messes with my organisation system in my absence, I will ruin them.

Upon standing for longer than needed to walk to the coffee machine and back. Only then did I realise how dog gone tired I really was. Taking my time I slowly and carefully make my way through the facilities many winding corridors. Trying my hardest not to bump into other agents or the walls, until I arrive at Hellboy’s quarters. At the first glance I can see he isn’t there which is both a blessing and a little disappointing.

Yes, I do get the shower and bed to myself for the time being but that also means I missed out on seeing him. We have really become good, close friends.

Now you are probably wondering why I have been mentioning HB a lot. Well that is simple we have been sharing his room ever since a certain someone magically managed to punch a massive hole through my exterior wall and out into the cold mountain air. He claims to have been swatting a fly. Not that there were any in my room at the time. But there was still no need to punch a massive three feet wide hole in my wall with his stone hand at that.

So I am now staying with him for however long it takes to patch the damage up. He insisted on sharing with me as an apology. It’s been over three weeks now and there was still a gaping hole in my quarters wall. I ain’t complaining tho. Hellboy really did have the best rooms in the facility and I’m damn well sure gonna make use of them. Since I had the place to myself I start stripping out of my uniform until I was stark naked and fiddling with the nobs and handles to try and get the water running in the oversized shower exactly how I preferred, amping up the heat to scolding levels that I find great comfort in. Maybe it is because it steams up the entire bathroom area nicely to the point I feel like I’m in a warm, safe cocooned state.

The multiple water jets pummel at my aching back and shoulders. I groan out at the blissfully sensation of my body finally unwinding and relaxing. Oh how I have needed this time to gain back my spark. I grab the bottle body wash that smells just like him. A calming fig and leather scent. I work up the lather in my hands then tackle the layers of dried on sweat and dirt I have accumulated over the past 8 days. Somewhere in between cleaning myself and the warmth of the water. I found that it managed to amplify the scent of the body wash. To the point it felt like he was right there with me. Meer inches behind me.

Maybe I let my imagination get away from me but it was as if his unique stone hand was scratching lazily down my hip. I try to lean back into what would have been his chest only to meet thin air.

“Shit.” I mutter to myself. This is not the time or the place to be thinking such things. Scrubbing the hot water over my face to try and clear my perverted mind of thoughts that were just that. Thoughts.

It isn’t that I don’t find him handsome. Oh I really did I mean that guy can charm the pants off anyone given the chance but we were only friends and nothing more.

“No, get outta your head. Finish your shower and have a damned nap, then back to work you go.” I spoke firmly to myself as I shut off the water.

I left the bathroom grabbing a clean towel and throwing it over my head to begin drying my hair as I wander back into the main part of the bedroom.

Someone clears their throat. I rip the towel off my head to see Hellboy stood there staring at me. His eyes are roaming all the skin available to him and it takes me a second to click I am stood there completely starkers. I try to cover myself but at this point what is the use. He has seen all of me now. I sigh.

“When did you get back?” I try and break the awkward silence as I continue to towel dry my hair.

His duffel bag drops with a thud to bring him back to the question I just asked him.

“Urm, just got back from a mission. Was gonna come looking for you actually.” He was clearly unsure if he was to look away or stare.

“Well you found me Red.” I say as I bend to dry my legs. “What do you want?” I ask casually, unsure where this confidence in my body has come from.

“You.” He breathed out the word in a contented sigh and a goofy smile on his lips.

I definitely heard him correctly trying to hide a creeping smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I stood back up to my full height taking the small grey towel away from my legs and dropped into on the floor.

“I didn’t quite hear that. I must still have water in my ears.”

His gaze drops to the floor

“Well.” I take a step closer to him. “You have me.”

His golden eyes flick up back to mine to see if there was any hint of hesitation or a cruel prank.

“Do I?” His voice low in a sort of warning that if I was messing with him I needed to stop now.

I kept moving slowly closer to him. The warmth of his body begins to radiate into mine from a couple feet away. He could see I wasn’t playing with him and that I really did want this. Whatever this moment was that clung in the warm air left behind by my shower.

As I got close enough to feel his body against mine I turn as take his right hand in mine and pacing it over my hip in the way I imagined only minutes before I had turned the water off. He is hesitant in his touch as all he knows is how to break and destroy with this hand but I want to show him the things he was clearly missing out on.

“You know you do.” Saying these simple words seemed to break the dam in both of us. His left arm winds around me stomach pulling me flush against his chest. His right hand caressing my hip and upper thigh. The contrast of his flesh hand and the stone one is magical. All the while his mouth descends upon my exposed throat kissing and suckling at the flesh marking my skin not that I cared. I grind back against him causing him to break contact and spin me to face him dead on.

“You’re playing with fire (Y/n). Are you sure you want this?” I can see a flicker of concern in his features. His golden eyes are purely molten with lust.

“More than you know big guy. I’m not afraid to get burned.” I scratch my nails down his firm pectorals.

His left hand cradles the back of my neck bringing me in for a kiss that could wake a million princesses, princes, kings, queens. Hell a whole kingdom from a cursed sleep. His lips are so intoxicating and I can’t get enough of him. I leap up as we break for air. His strong arms catch under my thighs and we go back to kissing like the world is going to end. It is bound to happen one day but right now all I need is him. I push at his large brown coat to try and remove the infuriating item of clothing to give me more of him to explore.

Hellboy can feel me pushing at the jacket. Seeing no other way to remove it with me in his arms. He moves us both to the nearest divider wall in his room and pins my body there with the weight and strength of his hips holding me in place as we break apart to gasp in lungful’s of air. I’m sure our lip look kiss swollen from such a fiery kiss that has become one of the best make out sessions I have ever had. He tears away the jacket, letting it drop to the ground, his hands go to my chest and thumbs swiping at my hardening nipples.

I’m chanting in my mind for him to use that mouth on them. He leans back slightly before slamming his hands either side of my head.

“We can stop now if you want. I don’t want to overstep.” I see the genuine concern on his beautiful face.

“I want this Red. I need you.” I rest my forehead against his.

“I could sure get used to this.” He smirks to himself.

“So could I. but unless you fucking touch me I will implode and take the entirety of the mountainside with me..” I grind down on his member that was tenting so wonderfully in his dark trousers.

It was my turn to get him panting beneath me.

“(Y/n), baby. I am trying to have some restraint here as not to hurt you . . . “

“I’m no China doll. You won’t break me. Remember I have advanced genetic healing, anyway I want you to mark me. Let everyone know who it is I belong to.” I say as I stretch my arms up above my head to grasp either side of the thin divider wall and use my legs to pull him back firmly against me possessively.

Hellboy is mulling over my words with a hooded gaze. His left hand grasps my throat squeezing it generously. “Is that right? You belong to me and only me now. You are mine.” His words are almost a low growl as he speaks he moves his lips closer and closer to mine. He speaks the last word with his lips grazing mine.

I mirror the word mine before he descends into another mind blowing kiss. I’m so engrossed in the sensation of our lips moving in perfect rhythm. That I don’t notice he has pried away his right hand from the slight indentation he left on the wall by my head, so he can unbuckle his belt and trousers in a swift movement, freeing his engorged cock to slap up against my ass. He hisses at the skin contact. I feel the stuttering in his hips. He really is trying to stay in control. When his left hand loosens on my throat I break the kiss to grasp that hand and bring the digits to my mouth and suck at them in earnest.

I moan around those fingers as I close my eyes and just being in the moment. I stay like this for as long as either of us could take. When I open my eyes, I pull away his fingers from my mouth with an emphasised pop sound. Then guide them in between our bodies till he feels just how much I truly need him. He easily inserts one digit into me gasping at the wet tightness that greets him. A second digit followed by a third in quick succession are enough to have me moaning his name in an almost scared prayer. He thrusts those fingers so well that the heel of his palm grinds down on my bundle of nerves that sparks lightning through my limbs and curls my toes.

“Ffffffuck (y/n) I’m not gonna last if you keep this up.” He is groaning from the way our bodies are so close to that final embrace we both need.

“Then take me Red. Fuck me and claim me as yours and only yours” I’m so close to falling over that blissful edge of completion when he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips he sees the mess I have become.

“Oh (y/n) Is this all for me? It must be my birthday.” He exaggerates the last sentence by swiping the flat of his tongue up to gather the distinct flavour of my arousal. “Better than I imagined.” He cleans his fingers of my taste.

“Bed now.” I need this man to fuck me and or let me ride him. He chuckles at my enthusiasm but takes my ever so subtle hint to move to the oversized bed. Dropping onto the mattress Hellboy turns at the last moment so I’m straddling those thick muscular thighs of his. “Red, you gotta let me take care of you.”

I push his chest lightly till his back hit the plush covers. I manoeuvre so I am able strip him of trousers and help him kick off those clunky boots to free those cloven feet I rarely get to see.

Crawling up his chest slowly to make sure I still have his full attention, kissing here and there to see if I can hear those wondrous sounds.

“Baby, you’re killing me.” His hands move along my sides to my hips, giving them a firm squeeze. “Please I need more.”

I kiss him once more before positioning body so I can stroke his girthy cock in my palm. He bucks into my palm. I can tell he needs more. Mouth-watering ideas flash into my mind which I lock away for later use.

With is cock still in my palm I move so I can gather up the wetness pooling between my thighs.

“You ready big guy?” I lock eyes with him. He can only nod in agreement.

Slowly I guide him to my entrance. I push down till the head of his cock disappears inside me. I gasp at the feel of him stretching me so sinfully. Inch my inch I lower down onto him until I am completely seating on him.

I watch his face melt into that of awe. Here I am taking his cock so well. Clenching at the thickness of him.

“You okay there (y/n)?” He knows that he is well endowed and some people can’t take him completely the way I just have.

I experiment by rocking my hips gently. We moan out in unison. This urges me to move more and slightly faster.

Hellboy begins to rut up into me, I push down to meet him thrust for thrust. We work up into a pattern that transcends anything my simple fingers could live up to on those late nights alone in my room.

Our left hands interlock as we move as one. The room around us is filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, loud moans of each other’s name and the encouragement to go faster and harder.

“I’m so close Red. Please I need to. . .” I cry out.

“Cum for me (y/n). I got you.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy now. I know he is so close too. I lean forward to kiss him once more. This new angle is all I need to climax harder than anything in my entire life. A few more haphazard thrusts later and he spills inside of me.

I slump against his sweaty chest. Grinning from ear to ear which I know he is mirroring above me. We stay like this till we get our breath back. Shakily I climb off him and lay down by his side completely stated.

“Wow.” He turns his head to look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm, yes I am now.” I try not to yawn but I know I will drift off soon after such a satisfying ‘workout’

He shift on the bed to go and grab something from the direction of the ensuite. He returns seconds later with a damp cool cloth. He takes care of me before climbing back on the bed to pull my against his chest.

“Sleep now. I got you.” I feel him lightly kiss my hairline before sleep takes me.

#jamie writes #my old fic #hellboy 2019 #hellboy imagine #hellboy x reader #reader insert #afab reader #b.p.r.d. imagine #b.p.r.d.#hellboy smut

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flowerui · 2 months

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♫ we both like apple cider, pgw

fluff & light angst, 4.1k words ୨୧ first fic on this blog! feedback is appreciated!! ^_^ i've had awful writer's block for MONTHS so i hope i havent gotten too rusty,,,

wherein dancing is your favorite way to destress, until a certain gunwook park goes and spoils it all.

꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is a year older than gw, dancer reader, bff hanbin, one-sided enemies to friends to lovers, college au, misunderstandings, set in the us, does this count as forced proximity? light angst, fluff (it gets so cheesy idk what happened to me), drinking/underage drinking ꒱

Dancing had always been your favorite way to unwind. After a long day of classes, practice is like a treat; the mental toll of having to listen to your professors drone on all day, and procrastinating assignments until the night they’re due is easily unraveled by dancing until you can’t feel your limbs—it’s unmatched.

That’s why, despite it being Wednesday (the second worst day of the week), you walk out of your last class with a skip in your step, like nothing could ruin your day.

Nothing except a man named Hanbin, that is.

After changing, you enter the practice room, ready to forget your worries. But before you can begin, you see a paper stuck on the wall beside the door—Hanbin must’ve finally put together the choreo for the solo and duet performances for an upcoming recital for some event on campus (truthfully, you can't be bothered to remember all the details, that's Hanbin's job), and decided on who’d best fit the roles. You’re a little late, so it’s just you who curiously shuffles over to take a look.

Seeing your name under Duet makes you smile until you read your counterpart's name. Gunwook Park.

You find a spot to sink to the floor in the back of the room. Suddenly, you’ve changed your perspective on dancing; it’s the worst thing to happen to you. You regret ever discovering this useless passion of yours, who even needs passions in this economy?!

Hanbin would tell you otherwise, but you believe that you have pretty good ideas.

You’d tried to take an easier route and complain to Hanbin that you absolutely could not work with Gunwook for a duet. But he was adamant about not making any alterations at this point, at least not just because you don’t like Gunwook—what a traitor, what happened to friendship?

Since complaining about your unfair working conditions did fuck all, you came up with a wonderful solution. You get paired with the number one person on your shit list? Just don’t show up to rehearsals. Boom, problem solved. Though it’s easier said than done; you’re a creature of habit, and the disappointment of remembering you can’t destress with dance is depressing.

And, of course, avoiding both Hanbin and Gunwook is a chore.

It’s on day four that you consider, maybe Hanbin is right sometimes. You were only successful in avoiding everything except schoolwork because college kicks everyone’s ass, and finding free time starts to feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But, maybe ditching practice when you live with the leader of your dance team wasn’t your best idea. On Sundays, both you and Hanbin usually end up being home at the same time.

And like an idiot, you forget this detail and trudge out of your room at two in the afternoon (no, you certainly did not just wake up, thank you very much) to find something acceptable to eat.

As you’re rummaging through the pantry, you hear your name called in that tone. The one where Hanbin’s voice sounds mildly shrill and a bit patronizing, the one that lets you know you’re in trouble.

Yeah, not your brightest idea—it might take over the number two spot of your top three worst ideas, followed by trying to gaslight a random group of people into believing that Play-doh is edible after you’d had a drink too many at your first college party at number one. (To be fair, you did not expect a twenty-something-year-old man to have Play-Doh on hand and tell you to prove it. Yes, you tried. You vomited on the guy’s shoes.)

Rigidly, you slowly turn to face Hanbin, who has a terse smile on his face.

“...Yes?”

“I thought maybe you hadn’t shown up to rehearsals because you weren’t feeling well, but yesterday, Gunwook told me every time he spotted you on campus, you naruto-ran away.”

“Uh,” you fake cough into your elbow, “Must’ve been someone that looks like me? ‘Cause I have been feeling kind of under the we—”

You shriek and make a run for it when Hanbin stomps over with that creepy hamster puppet you’d given him as a gag gift last year in hand. Eventually, you get cornered and get a creepy hamster puppet thrown in your face. “You can’t just ditch practice because you have some petty one-sided rivalry—or whatever it is—with Gunwook. You’re risking embarrassing the whole team! What are you planning to do, just not learn the choreography?”

“You know it's not a rivalry...” You grumble.

“You’re being childish,” Hanbin sighs, “I’ve already told you that whatever your deal is with Gunwook is some misunderstanding, he’s a sweet guy.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You huff, probably not helping the childish accusation. You’re tired of hearing that about what a good guy Gunwook appears to be because you know what you heard.

Without another word, you stomp off to your room.

If you had any hopes of getting out of going to rehearsal again, they’re promptly stomped on by Hanbin waiting outside of your class when you trudge out.

“Really?” You groan, and walk over to your supposed friend, “You don’t need to escort me.”

“I think I do,” Hanbin crosses his arms, fixing you with a look, like he knows you better than yourself… okay, he does ninety percent of the time, but that doesn’t mean he can act like it. “I’m pretty sure I saw you ready to head in the wrong direction before you saw me.” He says before grabbing your arm and pulling you down the hall.

“I don’t even get what your deal is with Gunwook,” Hanbin finally says when you’re about halfway to the studio, “I know you said you heard him say something… unsavory, but that just doesn’t sound like him at all. I think you should talk to him, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

“I know what I heard, Bin…”

“I’m not saying you didn’t hear what you heard, but maybe there’s some missing context.”

You try to consider Hanbin’s words, even as you absentmindedly head into the changing rooms, and reluctantly shuffle into the practice room afterward, you truly do.

But all the rational thinking and breathing techniques in the world cannot quell your ire when you see Gunwook. Calmly walking over and refraining from saying anything uncouth is a true test of mental strength—one that you are quite afraid of failing.

“Hey—” Gunwook rises from his spot in the corner of the practice room to greet you.

“Let’s get started.” You blurt out, aware of how cold and biting your dismissal comes off. To be fair, Hanbin didn’t tell you to be particularly nice, he just insisted you show up.

“Oh, right,” Gunwook’s expression wilts, but he clears his throat and plasters a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure Hanbin already let you know he wouldn’t be here to help us out today—he’s helping Natty with her solo. I’ve got the choreo down, so I should be able to guide you if needed.”

“I practiced at home.” You did. A little bit, it wasn’t easy with the limited space in your cramped—ahem, homey apartment. But practicing a duet by yourself, then giving up after stubbing your toe on every fucking piece of furniture in your home, and practicing it with your duet partner are two different things.

“Oh, that’s good… um, I’ll start the music.”

Your name is followed by an exasperated sigh. With reluctance—because your phone’s home screen is just that interesting—you glance up from your phone, to see Gunwook eyeing you through the mirror.

“Could we try to get through the routine? Maybe without you scratching me this time?” Gunwook gnaws at his bottom lip, sweat beading at his temple. He’s actually been hard at work, practicing while you sat in the corner of the room—essentially sentenced to a time-out after accidentally scratching Gunwook every time you tried to run through the routine with him. Accidentally.

You can’t help the frown that sets on your lips. Only to you, it seems, Gunwook Park is an enigma. When he first joined the team, he seemed nice, and he wasn’t much younger than you, you just never got the chance to properly talk to him. However, now you never want to speak to him, the fact that you have to work so closely with him is nauseating.

Tampering down all the ugly word vomit bubbling in your throat, you mentally repeat Hanbin’s words from yesterday to yourself, ‘You’re risking embarrassing the whole team’. Not only do you find most of your teammates to be more than bearable, but you also you can’t bomb a performance because you were too petty to practice the choreography, so, even though the thought of being so close to Gunwook—having to touch him makes you full body cringe, you suck it up.

“Sure.”

Begrudgingly, you get into position and wait for your cue. As the music starts up for what feels like the billionth time that evening, you miss the many nervous glances cast your way.

Succeedingly, you manage to not cause any more bodily harm, even when you have no choice but to get close enough to Gunwook to the point you cannot look anywhere but into his eyes. The urge to flee strikes, as unease among other odd emotions you will not address churn in your gut, but you deal with it (read: ignore it).

You manage to run through the routine once, then again, and again, and again, until your limbs feel like gelatin and you have no option but to sprawl out on the floor. It occurs to you how much you missed this feeling, you can barely believe you let your pettiness get in the way of it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Turning your head to the side, there’s Gunwook, also sprawled out beside you. Huh, you don’t even have the negative energy within you to loathe his presence in the moment.

“You just did. But you can ask one more thing.”

A goofy grin splits Gunwook’s lips before he turns his head back to face the ceiling, expression shifting a little more seriously. “Did I… was there something that I like did? Or said to upset you?”

Oh. Right. So, you haven’t forgotten your distaste for Gunwook. You feel your good mood sour, as you scoff, and force yourself to finally sit up—your limbs are very much protesting, screaming at you, matter of fact, but fuck them. And fuck Gunwook Park. “Seriously?”

You glance over your shoulder, Gunwook, who sat up shortly after you, only blinks at you curiously, as though he hasn’t got a clue.

“You really don’t know? Do you just talk shit about everyone and that’s why you can’t seem to remember me?”

“What…?” Gunwook’s brows furrow, “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you." You push yourself up off the ground, fixing Gunwook with an exasperated look, "After our performance at orientation in August, you had a lot to say about my skill, and how ridiculous I looked.”

“I don't…?” You watch as the confusion and then the recognition passes over Gunwook’s features, “No, I—shit,” he hangs his head with a groan, which doesn’t serve to dissipate any of your arising confusion. “That wasn’t about you.”

“I heard you say my name, don’t bullshit me.”

“I—okay, I definitely said your name, but it seriously wasn’t about you. There was this, um, character in a film my roommate watched for some project; they were supposed to be a dancer, but they were godawful. I was talking about the character, and I didn’t even think about how they had the same name as you, or about how loudly I was talking about that.”

“Oh,” you say, rather intelligently. You consider the thought that he could be lying, but he looks at you with such earnestness, remorse practically pooling in his eyes, you can’t even entertain the thought for more than a moment.

“Yeah, oh. I’m sorry you thought I was talking about you…”

“No, I’m sorry,” you quietly sit back down, anger gone as quick as it arose, and flop back on the floor with a sigh. Having your entire view of Gunwook Park debunked in a mere minute was not on tonight’s bingo card.

“I should’ve—Hanbin kept telling me it was probably a misunderstanding and to confront you, but I just stewed in my misguided hatred. God, Hanbin’s going to be insufferable once I tell him he was right all along.”

Gunwook huffs a laugh, “I’m glad we sorted this out, finally. Um, I guess we should wrap up for tonight since it’s getting late. Can I walk you home?”

“Don’t you live on campus? You don’t have to walk me home if you just have to walk back here…”

“It’s fine!” Gunwook smiles, oddly enthusiastic. Weird, personally, you dread having to walk home after practice. “I want to, and I guess now we can get to know each other? Now that you don’t hate me.”

“Yeah… okay, I’ll grab my stuff.” You sit back up again, as much as you’d like to become one with the floor.

“Okay, cool.”

“Cool.” you can’t help but smile, seeing the wide grin on Gunwook’s face. You’re going to choose to believe the warmth in your cheeks is because you’re still cooling off from rehearsing.

The idea of rehearsing is a lot more palatable now that you don’t despise your duet partner. The actual rehearsals aren’t too bad either… they’re actually kind of enjoyable.

Hanbin was, in fact, very insufferable when you spilled everything that’d happened that day to him. He’d been waiting up for you, sitting on the armchair in your living room, and nearly gave you a heart attack when he flicked on the lamp beside him; like he was your mother and he’d caught you sneaking back in the house.

“Hey, how was class?” Gunwook has taken to waiting for you outside your classes on rehearsal days, you even say hi to each other when you see the other on campus, and maybe talk if you’re not busy.

“Don’t get me started…” you groan, “I have no idea what my professor was on about today, but I thought his jaw was going to unhinge before he finally stopped talking.”

Gunwook chuckles, and grabs your bag from you, cradling it to his chest. “I thought I told you I could carry my bag myself?”

“And I told you that you could try to take it back.”

You did try, and you decided you do not like freakishly strong guys. “Whatever… what about you? How was your class?”

“Didn’t go today…” Gunwook trails off, glancing down at your linked arms. A habit after losing Hanbin in crowds one too many times. It feels nice with Gunwook, though. “Um, my roommate—” he clears his throat before he continues looking forward, revealing his red ears. Oh, that’s cute.

“He kept me up late ‘cause he needed help with his film project that he’s been procrastinating. I ended up waking up at like one-thirty…”

“Really? So, you just came straight here after waking up?” You tsk, choosing to look away from his pouted lips for your sake. “Did you even eat? Let’s stop by this café a few blocks away before we rehearse. It opened last month, Hanbin and I were supposed to check it out, but I think he forgot.”

You’re not blind, of course, Gunwook is, well, objectively attractive (subjectively as well, perchance). With much coaxing, you might’ve been able to admit it a week ago when you hated him. But, his attractiveness is far too illuminated when you’re a mere inches from his face; faced with his distractingly pretty brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. Oh God, he’s cute. He’s so fucking cute, and you are so fucking screwed.

Before you can say something so embarrassing you’d have to migrate to another country and assume another identity, you take the initiative to part from Gunwook, carefully backing away, and clearing your throat, “Should we take a break?”

Except that doesn’t even help, because when you sink to the floor to watch YouTube, Gunwook is beside you, smushed at your side to watch whatever you’re watching. You can’t even remember what video you tapped on, but apparently, you’re seven minutes into a video when Gunwook reaches over to pause it.

“Hey, um, one of my friends—his name’s Junhyeon, his frat, Zeta Rho Xi is having a party this weekend. He kinda roped me into going, and I was just wondering if you were free…? I would, um, it’d be cool if you could stop by.”

Parties haven’t been your thing for a long time; you tried to party freshman year, since people seemed to go on about the college parties. You just couldn’t get super into it, plus only things like the Play-Doh incident came from parties… and that’s why you’re not sure why you say, “Yeah, no, I should be free. I’ll check it out.”

You aren't even free, you have an essay you’ve written approximately two sentences for that happens to be due Monday. But the smile on Gunwook’s face makes agreeing feel like the right choice.

Immediately upon stepping inside, you remember why you hate parties. One, you lose Hanbin instantly. Two, trying to push through a bunch of sweaty, drunk people (who are surprisingly sturdy) is a pain in the ass. And three, it’s loud, you already feel like you need a drink. Or maybe three.

You manage to make it to a mostly empty kitchen, and at that point, you’ve lost any motivation to go search for Hanbin or even Gunwook. For the most part, you’ve given up caring about being ‘lame’, so, you’re perfectly content sitting in the kitchen on your phone at a party while sipping on possibly the worst quality beer you’ve tasted in your twenty years of life.

It’s maybe thirty minutes until you finally look up from your phone at the call of your name over the ear-damaging volume of music.

Hanbin stumbles into the kitchen, using Gunwook as support. You can make out your friend’s flushed cheeks, even in the dim lighting, you have no idea how he’s gotten drunk so fast. “There you are! I found Gunwookie, it looked like he was waitin’ around for you, ‘cause he was just in a corner lookin’ around… didn’t you guys exchange numbers?”

“I already told you I forgot to ask…” Gunwook mumbles.

“Oh,” Hanbin lets go of Gunwook to slide up beside you, “Hey, did you know that, um—” Gunwook rushes over to slap a hand over Hanbin’s mouth, are they both drunk? It’s more difficult to tell with Gunwook, his cheeks always look pink…

Hanbin removes Gunwook’s hand with a glare, “Don’t interrupt me,” he chides, as sternly as he can while drunk. “Anyway, ‘m so glad you two figured things out. I hope Gunwook tells you about his massive heart boner for you.”

Hanbin makes it probably ten times worse by continuing, “He’s—he’s had such a big crush on you since like, um, since like the millisecond he joined the team. But this whole time you thought he was mean to you, isn’t that silly?”

What isn’t silly is the look on Gunwook’s face, he looks positively mortified.

“...Okay, Bin, I think you’re ready to go home already,” you smile tersely, side-stepping the topic for now, maybe forever actually. “Gunwook, can you help me with him?” You ignore Hanbin’s slurred protests. It must take a moment for Gunwook to recoup before he’s at Hanbin’s other side, helping you pull the drunkard up.

You avoid looking in Gunwook’s direction, despite the fact you can feel him burning holes into the side of your head. Of course, there’s no avoiding the conversation—inevitably, you’re going to have to talk to Gunwook about what Hanbin said, but maybe you can get out of it tonight…?

It’s not that you’re particularly afraid… okay, well, you are, except it’s just unnecessary anxiety. Now you feel better about admitting to yourself that you’re interested in Gunwook. But what if Hanbin’s drunk rambling was just drunk rambling, and it was all nonsense? Well, Gunwook probably wouldn’t seem so nervous if that were the case, but maybe he’s nervous because he just doesn’t want you to be under the impression that he—

“Oh, hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for Hanbin…”

“Oh, Hao, hey.” you mentally thank Hao for unknowingly rescuing you from spiraling into your annoyingly irrational train of thought.

“Do you want me to take him off your hands? We were planning to ditch before he disappeared.”

Okay, time to put on your big person pants and be an adult. “Yeah, thanks.” Handing Hanbin off is pretty easy, the man completely unbothered that he’s thrown two of his protégés for a loop (he’ll probably feel a lot worse about it tomorrow, especially when he’s hungover). What’s less easy, is being left with Gunwook.

“Well, since Hanbin aired everything out…”

“Right, yeah. We should talk, maybe outside?”

Gunwook nods, leading the way to the back door, you follow closely behind him. As not to lose him in the clusters of people, and maybe just because you want to, you grab onto his arm.

Outside, your eardrums thank you for finally getting out of there, though your nervous heart is another story, rattling against your ribcage incessantly. Warily, you avoid looking at Gunwook, distancing yourself a good few feet away from him, “So…”

“I like you,” Gunwook blurts as if he won’t get another chance to say so, “like a lot. I initially joined the team ‘cause of you actually, I hadn’t even danced since middle school. But you were so—watching you on stage at orientation felt so… enchanting.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks at Gunwook’s flattery, and he only continues, “I thought you were perfect, so obviously I immediately signed up for the dance team, even though I wasn’t even sure if I was any good at it anymore, just so I could have an excuse to see you. Only for me to never gain the courage to even talk to you…” Staring at the wooden planks of the porch beneath your feet, you see Gunwook’s beaten-up Converse come into view, urging you to look up again.

“Gunwook, I—”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel anything like that for me, I just can’t let the what-ifs get in the way of me trying anymore.” Oh, how could you not feel something for him? Surely anyone could fall for him just by staring into his pretty brown eyes.

The weird feeling in your gut, which must be those butterflies people talk about, amplifies, you think you’d have to be a fool if you didn’t feel something for Gunwook Park. “I don’t… not feel something,” you hastily avert your gaze, “I guess I’m not entirely sure what it is, but I am interested in you. I, um, would be open to exploring that.”

“I understand—wait, you… really?”

You look up in time to see the overjoyed grin split Gunwook’s lips. It’s infectious, you can’t help but mirror his smile, laugh tumbling past your lips, “Yes, you dork. You better sweep me off my feet.” You playfully shove at his shoulder.

“I will,” Gunwook grabs your wrist before you drop your arm, thumbing at the inside of it, “are you free tomorrow?”

“I…” You aren’t free, remember that pesky essay of yours? “Yeah, I am.” Oh, well, you suppose it can wait; likely until tomorrow night, when you finally open your laptop at eleven-thirty at night, when it happens to be due at midnight. You happen to work great under pressure!

“Perfect, can I pick you up at your place at two?”

“Sure, are you gonna remember to ask for my number this time, though?” You tease, making a ‘give me’ motion with your free hand.

Gunwook’s cheeks somehow get pinker, as he finally lets go of your wrist and retrieves his phone from his pocket, handing it over with the new contact screen open. Quickly, you type in your number and then your name, cheekily adding a heart beside it.

“Can I walk you home? Or, uh, if you wanted to go back to the party, that’s fine too…”

“Nah,” you’d rather do just about anything else than go back into that mess, you’ve had enough parties for the rest of your college life, “I’m pretty tired, and I have a super important date with a great guy tomorrow.”

With a coy smile to match Gunwook’s shy one, you cozy up to his side and link arms with him, “Let’s go?”

You’d still consider dancing to be a great way to unwind—still one of your favorites, it's just been demoted to second place.

Nothing ebbs away your stress like Gunwook popping into your room with your favorite food after you’ve been staring at your laptop screen for hours as if you were hoping your assignments would finish themselves. Or his hugs—always so warm, it’s like hugging an oversized stuffed bear. Or just… him.

Unrivaled after several years, dancing has finally met its match: Gunwook Park.

108 notes · View notes

trulymadlysydney · 4 months

Text

Wait For Me in the Sky: Twelve

Mars lingers, looking at Harry before, at the exact same time, they come back to earth and realize they’re being watched. Mars clears her throat. “Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Styles?”

Harry’s cheeks quirk at the formality, and he hopes Mars doesn’t notice the deep gulp. He can’t help it, hearing her call him “Mr. Styles” does something to him.

“Actually,” he says, lowering his voice, “there is one thing.”

Mars blinks, not quite catching on. “Mm?”

“Although,” Harry says quietly, “Now that I think of it, I’m not certain this airline offers the type of services I’m looking for.”

Mars lets out a loud breath when she realizes what he’s getting at, and Harry beams at her reaction. She glances around her to make sure no one else has caught on, before turning back to Harry. “Well,” she says slowly. “I’m sure something can be arranged. All you have to do is ask."

Harry grins, eyes darting down Mars’ body very briefly. He reaches up to absentmindedly play at his bottom lip. “I’m not even sure I have to ask, given the way you’re looking at me.”

***DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION***

Get all caught up HERE

MARS

It’s 3:55am, and Mars barely slept a wink.

Not that she was expecting to get much sleep anyway. After hanging up with Harry, her mind had run wild with a thousand different things she’d wished she’d said, or at least said differently, and she’d had to physically stop herself from picking up the phone to send him a text of useless clarification that she knew he didn’t need but god, it would just make her feel better if she could only--

“How was dinner with Franco last night?” The voice of her fellow crew member- Abby- pulls her from her thoughts. “You never told us.”

Mars gets a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thinks about that very dinner with Franco. And up until now, she’d done a good job not thinking about it- although her anxiety hadn’t let her forget that something bad had happened. When she’d woken up for good this morning (after tossing and turning the entire night), she’d given it one thought and told herself to knock it off. She’d forced herself to shove it deep into her heart to unpack for another day, along with the strange and unwarranted guilt that had overcome her when she thought about calling Harry. She shouldn’t have called him. She should never have even thought of him. Why is she still thinking of him now? Why can’t she forget him?

“It was fine,” is all she can say. “Food was mediocre.”

The three flight attendants walk slowly through the near-empty airport-- their heels clacking against the slick floor as they make their way to their gate. For the most part, people in the airport seem to be either asleep or half-awake, and no one so much as looks up as the girls pass.

“You know she’s not asking about the food,” Jenna, the third flight attendant on the crew, speaks up. She giggles. “I half expected you to be late to the crew van today, girl. Did you stay with him?” She wiggles her eyebrows, insinuating something that makes Mars nauseous.

The girls don’t know any better, so Mars puts on her best smile. “I didn’t,” she says back, with as lighthearted a laugh as she can manage. “Too early of a start today. Plus he’s not really my type. We were just catching up as old friends.”

“Not your type?” Abby snorts. “Are you blind?”

“You cannot tell me that you don’t have any type of attraction to that man,” Jenna chimes in. “Have you seen him?”

This time, Mars’ giggle is genuine. “I have,” she says. “And there was, I guess you could say ‘a thing’ back in the day. But his personality ruins it for me.”

Abby frowns. “Don’t tell me he’s a shit human. Don’t ruin this illusion for me.”

“I mean,” Jenna says, “Can you blame her though? Girl’s had Harry Styles in her bed. I’m sure it’s hard not to compare.”

Mars swallows the lump that arises in her throat at the mere mention of Harry. She knows this is all well-intended, harmless cheek-- but it does make her sad. “That was a long time ago,” is all she can come up with.

The girls approach their gate and walk up to the counter. “Don’t tell me he’s a shit person too,” Abby says, and Jenna responds with something snarky that Mars can’t hear. Mars, instead, busies herself with speaking to the gate agent.

“Good morning!” she says, flashing her badge. “Mars Tyler. Are the pilots here yet?”

The gate agent, who’s name tag reads “Walter” offers her an almost apologetic smile. “No pilots yet,” he says. “And no plane either. Got delayed in Milwaukee this morning for some weather.”

“Love that,” Mars says sarcastically, causing Walter to chuckle.

“The good news is, they’re on their way. They’ve been able to make up for a bit of time in the air and they’re expected to land in about thirty minutes. So in the meantime, if you ladies want to hang out around here. Grab a coffee maybe. Just relax.”

The girls speak with Walter for the next couple of minutes, solidifying paperwork and guesstimating a potential boarding time, before Walter excuses himself to deal with something at another gate. Stashing their bags behind the ticket counter, the girls linger in the area, chatting quietly about their layover plans.

The layover in Dallas is long tonight, and Mars has had it before, so she knows exactly how she’s going to be spending her day. She figures she can nap for a few hours, then head out to her favorite little cafe near the hotel for lunch. Briefly, she debates inviting the girls-- because although she wants to be alone with her thoughts right now, she knows the company would be a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never been to Dallas!” Jenna says. “I didn’t know it was fun. My roommate had a layover there the other day and she told me about this one bar. Apparently it’s right down the street from the hotel. It has like, four dollar margaritas and stuff. So, if you guys are down…”

“Oh always,” Abby says. “Literally never not down for a margarita. I also--”

“Excuse me,” comes a voice behind them.

The girls turn around to see a little old woman, holding a crumpled boarding pass in her shaky hand. She looks right at Mars. “What time is boarding?”

“Oh, sorry, we’re not the gate agents,” Mars replies. “We’re the flight attendants. The gate agent will be back soon to answer any questions!”

“Oh,” the woman says, somewhat annoyed. “You can’t tell me what time boarding is going to be?”

Mars tries her best to keep her annoyance at bay. “We’re still waiting on our plane to get here, so once that arrives and the other passengers deplane and the plane gets cleaned, then the gate agent will have a bit more of an update for you.”

“What time will that be?” the woman asks.

Mars swallows down a snarky response and gives her best flight attendant smile. “I don’t know. The gate agent will be able to give you more information when he comes back.”

The old woman squints. “You’re not the gate agent?”

Mars takes a breath, then just blinks for a moment, trying to compose herself. “No, ma’am I’m one of the flight attendants.”

The woman points her shaky hand at Jenna and Abby. “Are they the gate agents?”

“No, ma’am.” Mars clears her throat and raises her voice ever so slightly so the woman can hear her better. “Again, we’re the flight attendants. The gate agent will be back soon to answer any questions you have, okay?”

“Will the gate agent be able to tell me when boarding will be?”

Mars hesitates, trying to stifle a laugh of disbelief. “I--” she begins, then lets out all of her remaining air. “Yes. The gate agent will be able to answer your questions once he gets back.”

“Oh okay.” The old woman nods. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Mars says, with as sweet of a smile as she can manage. As soon as the woman is out of earshot she sighs and turns back to Jenna and Abby. “God.”

“I could never be a gate agent,” Jenna says. “I’d lose my job so quickly.”

“I would just go home crying every day,” Abby agrees. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Mars snorts. “We deal with some interesting people up in the air, too,” she says, “but yeah. I think they have it way harder down here.”

The girls fall back easily into their conversation about tonight’s events in Dallas, and Jenna continues to discuss the bar with the four dollar margaritas that is slowly moving to the top of Mars’ to-do list. She still has a sense of guilt and embarrassment regarding the way her night went, but she figures a cheap margarita and a few laughs with Jenna and Abby will be just the cure that she needs.

As she’s laughing at something Abby said and trying her best not to think about how tired she is, someone approaches from behind once more.

“Excuse me,” comes their voice.

This time, Mars can’t help but to hide her annoyance. “We’re not the gate agents,” she says quickly, turning around. “The gate agent will be back soon t--”

And when she sees who’s behind her, she falls completely silent.

There, looking sleepy and nervous and still just as delicious as ever, stands Harry Styles. A duffle bag slung haphazardly on his side, a cap hanging loosely on his head, and a lopsided grin on his face.

“I just wanted to know if I could upgrade my seat to Mars’ Tyler’s section,” he says.

Mars stands frozen, unsure if she should fall into his arms or take a step back. He scans her face anxiously, waiting for some type of reaction, and for a brief moment she forgets that anyone else is around her.

“Harry,” she says quietly, ‘What are you--”

“I love you.” It comes out of his mouth so calmly, so effortlessly, that Mars isn’t even sure she��s heard him correctly.

She blinks a few times, completely taken aback by his words. There’s an intense sincerity in his eyes, and as she scans his face, he never once looks away from her. “What--”

His voice is quiet, but charged, “I miss you. And I love you. And I know that this--” he gestures vaguely, “this setting isn’t really ideal for… for either of us but… Mars, I miss you and I need you more than anything or anyone in the world.”

Mars continues to scan his face, tears pricking her confused eyes as she struggles to hold back from leaping into his arms. “I don’t understand.” She shakes her head, fighting the smile tugging at her cheeks. “Why are you--”

She glances nervously around them then, suddenly aware of the eyes that have begun wandering and lingering on her and Harry. A few cell phones are pointed in their direction.For once, Jenna and Abby are speechless. She takes a cautious half-step back then laughs nervously. “Harry--”

“Can we go somewhere?” he asks. “Please?”

She glances slowly behind her at Jenna and Abby, who have both heard his question and immediately nod while shooing her away. “Uh--” she starts.

“I know you probably don’t have much time,” Harry cuts in, and Mars can tell that his panic is rising the longer it takes for her to get out a full sentence. “And we don’t have to do this now. I just--”

Somewhere in the crowd, a flash goes off, indicating someone’s attempt to take a stealthy photo, and Mars cringes. Her entire face grows hot. “Yes,” she says. “Please. Let’s go”

Harry steps to the side, gesturing for Mars to lead the way, and she begins walking. Her ears are ringing, and even though there aren’t many people here, it feels as though almost every single pair of eyes in the entire state is on her. She doesn’t look back at Harry, but she can hear his steps behind her-- not too close, but not so far back that it feels like he’s not with her.

She needs to say something. She wants to say something. But she can’t risk people hearing.

They continue walking, Mars scanning the airport for an empty gate that's far enough away, and Harry’s voice comes from behind her.

“I wanted to come with you,” Harry explains, quickly. “I’ve booked the flight.” He swallows thickly, shaking his head. “I can’t live without you any longer, Mars. I can’t do it.”

Mars walks quicker, not because she wants to get away from Harry, but because she needs to jump into his arms immediately and kiss his sweet face, and if she does it now she’s worried it will end up on the cover of every magazine in the globe.

“I know you hate this,” Harry says, keeping . “I’m sorry. I know public declarations and displays of affection aren’t really your thing. They aren’t exactly second nature to me, either. And I know this is a less than ideal way for me to tell you this but I-- I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry.”

“Harry--” Mars reaches up to wipe at a rogue tear that rolls down her cheek, and Harry officially closes the gap between them, jogging until he’s right beside her. He doesn’t touch her, but it’s obvious he wants to, and his nerves flicker across his face.

“I didn’t mean to—“ he starts.

“It’s okay,” Mars says, without turning to him. “You didn’t.”

“If you don’t want to—“

“Harry, it’s okay.” She turns into the empty gate beside them, almost throwing Harry off.

“But Mars, I—“

Mars, finally unable to stop herself, cuts him off, whirling around to grab his face in her hands. She pulls him in, fastening their lips together in what feels like the most passionate kiss she’s ever experienced in her life.

Harry’s hands immediately hold her, one hand pulling her in by the small of her back and the other gripping the bottom of her head under her neatly secured bun. By his breathing, Mars can tell he’s relieved, and a tear of his own drips down his cheek and onto hers.

She licks into his mouth, holding his face as if she could lose him if she let go. Harry matches her energy, holding on to her as tightly as possible and kissing her so passionately that half of the time it’s just the corner of her mouth or her chin.

Mars pulls away after a few moments and breathlessly smiles up at her teary-eyed man. “I love you, too, Harry.”

The relief that washes over Harry’s face is so beautiful it makes Mars want to cry harder. “You do?” He asks, voice shaky.

Mars nods. “I do.”

“You do?”

Mars laughs again. “I do, Harry. So, so much.”

Harry hesitates for only a beat before tugging Mars into his arms. She sniffles and laughs, and Harry lets out the breath that’s been cramped in his chest for hours now. “Oh, I love you, Mars. I love you, I love you.”

Mars giggles, enjoying how it feels to be held like this again before speaking. “But, I--” She trails off, breath hitching.

“What?” Harry asks, pulling away. “You what?”

“I just… Harry, it’s…” Mars sighs, voice lowering. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“You don’t deserve to be with someone who doesn’t get it. Who isn’t used to this. You need to be with someone who--”

“Just be with me,” Harry says, almost pleading. He takes her shoulders in his hands and looks deeply into her eyes. “Just Mars and Harry. Like we were in Cancun That night in your hotel room. At my house in London. Don’t pay anyone else any mind. Just be with me.”

Mars swallows around an enormous lump in her throat, her bottom lip quivering. “Are you sure?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, as if she’s daring to even be hopeful.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Mars.” He gives her a moment to absorb his words, and he doesn’t break eye contact with her. He wants her to understand, to really feel what he’s saying. She laughs in jubilant disbelief, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her eye, and Harry truly has never been more sure of anything than what he’s about to say. He clears his throat.

“Listen to me. Life is far too short to let things pass you by. Moments, people, opportunities. But I’m someone who has a bad habit of letting his own pride get in the way.” He chuckles. “In fact, someone once told me I’m an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry and… well, that holds true, I think.”

“No!” Mars tries. “No, you’re--”

“But I’m tired of being that way,” Harry continues. “And I’m tired of letting moments pass me by Mars. Because I am sorry. For everything. For all of it. And I should have told you every single day since the moment I knew it…” He takes a deep breath, and squeezes her hands for emphasis. “I love you.”

Mars lets out another teary laugh of disbelief and reaches up to wipe at her eyes as Harry continues. “I love you, Mars Tyler. With all that I am and all that I have, I love you.”

Mars shakes her head, laughing again and speaking just above a whisper. “I love you, too, Harry.”

Harry beams at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She giggles, swinging their hands a bit, before slamming her lips back into his. It’s clumsy and they’re both crying and laughing into one another’s mouths, but it’s perfect. With a chuckle, he puts his hand on her lower back and guides her closer into him once again. “I love you,” he repeats against her mouth. “I love you.”

They stay like this for a few moments longer before Mars pulls away. With a giggle, she glances nervously around them. When she’s relieved at the sight of how empty the gate has remained, she clears her throat. “God, Harry,” she says, “You sure know how to make an entrance, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do,” Harry says, laughing. “I just… I had more than enough chances with you. And I blew them all. I’m so fucking stupid but I…” He shakes his head. “I figured a grand gesture would be the best way to go about this.”

“You could have come to me in the parking lot of a gas station,” Mars laughs. “You could have done literally anything and I would have folded.”

He smiles lightly, feeling like the weight of the entire world has been lifted from his shoulders. They stare giddily at one another, neither of them wanting to move from this movement. After another beat, Harry brushes the hair off of Mars’ face and speaks. “I don’t want to keep you from your job or anything,” he says, “So I’ll let you go board the plane… just know I’m not letting you go ever again. And when we get to… where are we going again?”

Mars snorts. “Dallas.”

“Dallas. When we get to Dallas I am going to spend every single second loving you the way you’ve deserved from the beginning.”

“And when we’re on this flight? In the air?”

“I’m going to spend every single second asleep,” Harry teases, pleased with himself when he gets a cackle from Mars that echoes softly through the quiet airport. “No, I’m going to spend it talking to you. If I can, that is.”

Mars smiles. “I’d really enjoy that.”

“It's a date,” Harry nods.

He envelopes her in his arms once again, her head resting perfectly against his neck. He presses a quick kiss on the top of her head, wishing to stay in this exact moment forever.

She finally speaks, breaking him from his thoughts. It’s a bit muffled against his coat, but he hears her just fine. “You know there’s no first class on this plane.”

Harry snorts, pulling out of the hug and shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter, Mars.”

“I’m just saying!” She raises her hands defensively, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I hope you know that with me, you’re signing up for a lifetime of flying standby and probably ending up with shitty middle seats.”

She’s joking, of course. She knows he could buy an entire private aircraft for them if he wanted. But still, he laughs. “They could tie me to the wing of every plane you ever work on. Just as long as I get to be with you.”

She rolls her eyes and says nothing, but there’s a glowing, undeniable grin on her face as she shakes her head.

They say a rushed, half-hearted goodbye during which Mars giggles through several tears (and complains about Harry ruining the makeup she’d lazily put on in order to look decent at this hour) and Harry watches her walk away with every step. Although her back is turned to him, he knows she’s smiling just as hard as he is, and it’s a good feeling.

Even though he can feel eyes on him from the few people in this airport who are actually awake right now, he genuinely doesn’t care as much as he knows he probably should.

Mars is back. His sweet Mars.

---

During the entire boarding process, he scans the plane for Mars. He gets a brief glance of her in the back of the aircraft, helping an older woman with her bag, and he smiles to himself before taking his seat.

The gate agent had been kind enough to give Harry an entire row to himself-- despite Harry’s protests and insistence that it wasn’t necessary. After shoving his duffel under one of the seats in front of him, he pulls out his phone and shoots Mars a quick text. “I’m in 16D. An entire row to myself.”

He settles himself in the seat, tucking the things he might need (like his airpods, a good book, and his phone charger) into the seat back pocket in front of him, and tries every now and then to get a good look at Mars in her element. Unfortunately, the passengers boarding make it a bit hard for him.

Finally, however, he’s able to get a nice long look at her once the main boarding door is closed and Mars finds herself standing right in front of him, performing the safety demonstration.

She tries not to giggle the entire time, pretending not to notice the way he’s smirking at her and snapping photos of her in her demo life-vest. As she makes her way back to her galley after the demo, she leans into his row and says, quietly, “Sir, don’t bother the flight attendants.”

It’s another 40 minutes or so before Harry gets to see her again; this time they’re in the air and she’s pushing a beverage cart down the aisle. He watches her as she interacts with her passengers, effortlessly pouring drinks and making small talk.

She’s just so good at her job. The way she speaks makes it sound as though whoever is on the receiving end is the only passenger on the entire plane, but there is a casual and friendly tone to her voice that could put even the most anxious of flyers at ease. She almost always sounds just on the verge of a giggle, but not in a patronizing way-- more so in a comforting, friendly way.

And he fucking loves it.

Finally, it’s his turn. She remains her sweet, professional self, but for Harry it seems she turns it up several notches. She flashes him a flirty smile, batting her lashes at him as she leans into his row. “Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Styles?”

He smirks. “I’ll take a vodka soda, darling. If you don’t mind.”

Mars hums, setting to work immediately. “Interesting,” she says. “I thought you didn’t drink on flights.”

“I do when I’m celebrating.”

Mars’ shoots him a look as she scoops ice into the little plastic cup. “And what are you celebrating, if I may ask?”

“Love.” Harry doesn’t miss a beat in his response, and the two share a knowing grin before she turns back to the cup.

“I see.”

She hands Harry the cup of ice, placing the napkin on his tray table with expert precision before reaching into a drawer of her cart for a soda water. “I’m not supposed to do this,” she says, reaching back into the cart, “but I suppose if you’re celebrating you deserve two.” She hands him two vodka minis, and he smirks.

“Well,” he says. “Thank you. What a sweet girl you are.”

The way her eyes briefly light up does not go unnoticed.

Harry opens the can of soda and begins pouring, and she drops her professional act. “I hope the seat isn’t too uncomfy.”

He laughs. “Not at all.” He watches his soda bubble up and waits for it to settle. “It’s actually quite nice. I didn’t know your airline had such comfortable seats back here.”

She laughs. “Well. It isn’t quite first class, but it gets the job done, doesn’t it ? I’m just glad no one’s bothered you.”

Harry opens one of the minis and begins pouring it into the cup of soda. “You’re a peach.”

She sighs dreamily, and it makes Harry giddy. It feels good to make her feel good again.

There’s a moment of silence as Harry finishes pouring the first mini, but it isn’t awkward. Harry wishes she would stay by him forever.

“By the way,” he says, cutting the silence and stirring the vodka soda delicately, “Vincent sends his regards.”

Mars snorts out a laugh of disbelief. “What?”

Even Harry can’t help but to chuckle. “M-hm. Turns out he was working the flight here. Small world, eh?”

“What did he say?” Mars leans in closer, and Harry swears he can feel her embarrassment. “Oh my god, if he—“

“Nothing bad,” Harry answers nonchalantly, raising the cup to his lips. “He only mildly threatened me.”

As Harry takes a sip, Mars shakes her head. “Oh my god.”

Harry wants to tease Mars for longer, but he can’t keep up with the act. He laughs, setting the cup back down and making a brief mental note of the way Mars’ eyes fixate on his fingers for a good three seconds. “Joking,” he says. “Although we did talk about you.”

“And?” Mars raises her eyebrows slightly, as if daring to be hopeful that nothing bad was said.

“Nothing really,” Harry says, and despite his relaxed tone when he speaks, he does mean it. “Honestly, Mars. He just asked me where I was headed. He told me how he knew you, and then we discussed what a great person you are.”

Mars scowls. “I don’t believe you.”

Ignoring her words, Harry continues. “He told me that losing you would be the greatest mistake of my life. And I said “‘I know.’” He chuckles. “He also told me how stubborn you are. To which I also said ‘I know.’”

Mars looks away from Harry, seemingly too embarrassed to hold eye contact. “Oh my god,” she repeats.

“In any case,” Harry continues, picking the drink up once more, “he’s a great guy. And it worked out didn’t it? I made it here.”

Mars finally looks at Harry again, a smile threatening her lips. Harry smirks. “What?” He asks.

“I just can’t believe it,” Mars replies. “I mean, it’s insane.”

“Not really.” Harry shrugs. “A man is supposed to do anything for the woman he loves.”

Mars bites her bottom lip, as if doing so will suppress the enormous smile on her face. “You really love me, huh?”

Harry nods sincerely. “More than I can say.”

Harry’s cheeks quirk at the formality, and he hopes Mars doesn’t notice the deep gulp. He can’t help it, hearing her call him “Mr. Styles” does something to him.

“Actually,” he says, lowering his voice, “there is one thing.”

Mars blinks, not quite catching on. “Mm?”

“Although,” Harry says quietly, “Now that I think of it, I’m not certain this airline offers the type of services I’m looking for.”

Harry grins, eyes darting down Mars’ body very briefly. He reaches up to absentmindedly play at his bottom lip. “I’m not even sure I have to ask, given the way you’re looking at me.”

“I’m a very intuitive flight attendant, Mr. Styles.”

“So it would seem.”

After a beat of charged silence, Harry darts his eyes pointedly to the forward lavatory then back at Mars, wordlessly asking her the question he so desperately hopes she’ll say yes to.

She nods her head so softly, Harry would have missed it if he’d blinked. “I’ll be in the back galley, Mr. Styles. Come find me once I’ve finished service and we’ll see if I have what you’re looking for.”

The way she says it is very clear and pointed, and she ends with a nod of finality before unlatching the break on her cart and continuing down the aisle.

Holy shit.

Harry squirms in his seat, doing a terrible job of hiding the smirk on his face. He turns in his seat, eyes lingering briefly on Mars’ backside as she serves the row behind him, before scanning out just how far away that back lavatory is. He’s going to have to be discreet making his way back there, even though it’s really not even half a plane’s length. He prays that most people are asleep or otherwise engrossed in the films on their seatback TVs, because he really isn’t quite in the mood (or mental state, to be frank) to take photos and hold small conversations.

Not when Mars looks like that.

He turns back in his seat and absentmindedly tugs at his now tightening trousers. Taking another breath to steady himself he pretends to surf through the channels of his TV. He can’t just up and wait for her in the back, and besides, she still has the whole back half of the plane to get through.

He squirms uncomfortably as his pants grow tighter and tighter around his groin, and he has to force himself to wait a full 15 minutes before, finally, the soft rumble of a beverage cart being pushed back into its place up front alerts him that service has been completed.

He glances around him, and for the most part no one pays him any mind. He looks up at the non-illuminated seatbelt sign and decides now is as good a time as ever.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he rises to his feet.

He stumbles just a bit when the plane jolts ever so slightly, and he reaches up to hold on to the overhead bins the same way he’d watched Mars do. Of course, she’d made it seem so much more effortless. But still.

It feels like the longest walk of his life, especially when he and Mars lock eyes. She can’t hide the grin on her face as she watches Harry make his way to her. He smiles when he approaches, closing the gap between them as quickly as possible without looking obvious.

“Well,” he says, “hello again.”

Mars giggles. “Hello.”

Harry subtly reaches forward to touch her arm, brushing his fingertips lightly against her wrist. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

“I think we’ve done this before,” Mars says, nodding her head with a glimmer in her eye. “Although I’m not sure I have an apple to offer you this time, Mr. Styles.”

Harry snorts, stepping closer to her and further out of the eyes of passengers. “How will I manage?”

“Right. That nervous tummy of yours doesn’t like turbulence, so you don’t like to drink on flights. Except for today. When you’re celebrating love.”

Mars’ back presses against the galley counter and Harry smirks, closing in on her. “You remember everything, don’t you?”

Mars shrugs, giggling as Harry places his palms against the galley on either side of her. “I’m good at my job.”

“Mm.” Harry leans in, nuzzling against her neck. He takes in a deep breath, reveling in her scent. He loves that fucking scent. She shivers, subtly squirming when his stubble tickles her neck. He kisses just below her ear, and he can feel her gulp.

“We have to be careful,” she says-- so quietly Harry almost misses it.

“I know,” he mumbles, fingers grazing her hips. “You’ll tell me if anyone’s coming?”

“Harry,” she says quietly as his fingers dip lower, “wait.”

He glances over his shoulder immediately, expecting to see someone taking a photo of him or something. He sees nothing, but he soon feels Mars reach around him. She takes the curtain of the galley and slides it closed, a little too eagerly.

“Now we’re alone,” she says with a grin.

Harry hums, resuming where he left off with his fingers teasing at her hips and lowering themselves to the hem of her dress. “But you can still see, yeah?”

Mars cranes her neck a bit, then nods. “Yeah, I can see. I’ve got you.”

“Good.” His fingertips trail gently up her thigh, reveling in the way her skin feels warm beneath the fabric of her nylons. “God, I want you.”

Mars hums lightly, head falling back and hitting the bins of the galley lightly. “I can’t tell you how hard it’s been--” she sucks in a breath when his fingertips graze her center-- “without you.”

Harry doesn’t answer her verbally. He sucks into her neck, applying pressure with his fingers and beginning to rub little circles against her core. Whether she realizes it or not, she begins to rock her hips against him, and Harry tightens his grip on the galley behind her.

It’s difficult, doing what he’s doing through the layers of fabric she’s wearing, but neither of them seem to mind. Mars gasps quietly, then swallows wetly, humming quietly to herself and enjoying the way he’s touching her.

“You know,” she muses quietly, her voice a bit breathless. “I’ve always kind of had a fantasy about this.”

“Yeah?” Harry breathes, picking up the pace with his fingers.

“M-hm. Always-- fuck, Harry-- wanted to do this. In the galley—“ she trails off in a half-moan half-sigh before continuing, “the… the threat of being caught…”

“You like that do you?” Harry whispers quietly in her ear. He curls his fingers against her clit and she jolts, humming impatiently and continuing to rub herself against him.

“God,” she whines quietly. “Feels so good.”

“You make the prettiest noises when I touch you,” Harry comments. “Have I ever told you that?”

Mars swallows, eyes fluttering lazily open. “No one has ever touched me like you do,” she replies.

Harry smiles, leaning in and fastening their lips together once more. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he says between kisses, “although I’m pleased to be the only one.”

“It may just be because you love me.”

Harry speaks against her lips. “I do love you.’

Through a giggle, Mars kisses him once more. “And I love you.”

Harry pulls away just enough to tilt his head in order to press a wet kiss to her pulse point. “One more time?” he teases, pulling a loud giggle from her lips. “Didn’t hear you.”

“Harry--”

“Plane’s too loud,” he mumbles against her neck, before pressing another kiss just below her ear. “Think you’re going to have to speak up for me.”

“Harry you’re so--” Mars trails off into a sigh that sounds strangely annoyed in contrast to the sweet giggles pouring from her lips seconds before. “Hold on.” She gently pushes Harry off of her, and he furrows his brows.

“What’s--”

“Passenger.” She’s peeking through the slit on the edge of the galley curtain, and it’s the only explanation she gives him, but he immediately understands. He steps away from her, turning his back to whoever is about to enter the galley in hopes he’ll go as undetected as possible.

Seconds later, someone slowly opens the curtain and enters the galley, and even though Harry’s back is turned he can feel what’s going on. The person stands there, unmoving, until Mars speaks up. “Can I get you anything?”

Her professional Flight Attendant voice makes him laugh quietly to himself; such a stark contrast to how she’d sounded seconds before.

“Uhh…” the person says, and it’s obvious that they’ve just woken up from a deep sleep. “Bathroom?”

“Bathroom’s gonna be right here!” He can’t see Mars, but he knows she’s gesturing with an open palm at the fold-out door leading to the bathroom. He almost wishes he was watching, because this specific type of interaction is one that he’s heard Mars complain about hundreds of times. “I just don’t understand,” she’d say, “What is so hard about pulling a door that literally says “PULL” in two different languages?”

Sure enough, seconds later her voice comes again. “Just pull… nope just… no, see the little slot there? Yeah just pull… no that door… yeah pull that…. No, see where it says pull?... there you go.”

Harry can’t even contain the snort that comes out of his mouth, and when he hears the bathroom door close after finally being opened, he turns around to face Mars.

She seems annoyed, but she’s still got her customer service face on. “See?” she giggles. “Every time.”

“Don’t know how you do it,” he says, his hand finding its way right back onto her hip. He pulls her closer into him. “Would’ve lost my job by now.”

Mars giggles louder, willingly leaning into Harry and allowing him to kiss her cheek. “You’d be a fantastic flight attendant, Harry.”

“You think so? Should I apply?”

She snorts. “Yeah, actually. I think we’re hiring.”

“Mm.” Harry pinches Mars’ side lightly. “Only if I can work all of my trips with you.”

“Then no work will ever get done.”

“Sure it would.” Harry lowers his head to kiss her neck.

Mars rolls her eyes, but she’s unable to hide the smirk on her face. “Harry…”

They stay like this for a few extra minutes until the loud sound of the lavatory toilet flushing startles them both. Harry steps away from Mars, giving her bum a playful and light pinch before turning away from her, and the passenger emerges from the bathroom seconds later.

“I figured out why you look so familiar,” comes the passengers' voice. Both Harry and Mars’ hearts sink immediately.

“Do I?” Mars asks, trying to keep her tone professional and light hearted as possible.

Even Harry turns around slowly to listen. The passenger nods his head in Harry’s direction, gesturing at him. “Yeah,” he says, “You’re the girl that’s dating him.”

Harry and Mars share a look of panic, although both do an excellent job to try and hide it. Mars laughs. “Well--”

“My sister hates your guts,” the passenger says with a laugh. “But you’re pretty cool.”

Mars laughs again, awkwardly. “Well…. I mean… I… sorry to your sister.”

Harry steps closer, a bit protectively, and he opens his mouth to say something, but the passenger speaks again.

“I’ll have to tell her that I ran into you guys! Can I get a picture?”

“If you don’t mind,” Harry cuts in, “I’d prefer you didn’t.”

The man frowns. “Oh. Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Harry replies. “Trying to keep a low profile and all that.”

“Oh.” The passenger takes a moment, and Harry feels horribly awkward. Mars is visibly tense, and Harry hates it. This is exactly the thing he wants to avoid, for Mars’ sake, and now here it is-- happening at her job. For fucks sake, maybe he shouldn’t have come here…

“Well that’s okay!” The man seems surprisingly chipper, and Harry glances at Mars, who seems to soften. “Totally understand. I didn’t mean to bother you guys or anything. I just wanted to say like, seeing you guys together is actually really sweet. You guys have an undeniable chemistry. I’ve never really been a fan--” he turns to Harry quickly, “--no offense dude. But like… you two together… I dunno. My sister’s devastated but, even in all the pictures she showed me, you can see that you guys are happy. You know what I mean? You seem like cool people.”

Harry smiles as politely as he can manage, wishing he could read Mars’ mind right now. “Thanks man.”

“Anyway,” the man turns back to Mars. “Can I get some pretzels?”

Mars can’t help but laugh at his sudden request-- so different from the conversation they’d just been having seconds before. “Yeah,” she says. “And just for how cool you’re being, I’ll give you two bags.”

The conversation between the three somewhat fizzles as Mars retrieves the passenger’s snacks for him, and Harry is in complete awe of her. He has to say, he’s relieved that she’s taken the passenger’s words so well, and he’s even more relieved that the guy seems cool about it all. Harry apologizes again for not taking a picture, but the man seems cool about that as well, which lifts a massive weight off of not only Harry’s shoulders but Mars’ too, no doubt.

Mars’ anxieties only seem to show themselves the second that the man is en route back to his seat and out of ear shot. She straightens the galley curtain behind him and lets out a long sigh, her customer service smile dropping so quickly it makes Harry chuckle to himself. He steps towards her, nudging her hand with his own. “Are you okay? Know that was kind of weird…”

“Um…” Mars takes in a slow, deep breath through her nose, then smiles at Harry. “Yeah. No, yeah I’m… that was fine.”

Harry links his pinky subtly with Mars’. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like… it’s inevitable. I know that. And it sucks but it's…” She takes his hand in hers and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, as long as I have you.”

“Gonna do my very best to protect you,” Harry says earnestly. “I mean it. Gonna do everything I can to--”

“We’re a team, Harry” she says. “It’s you and me. That’s it. That’s all I care about at the end of the day.”

Harry smirks down at her, hesitating for a moment. He glances over his shoulder out at the plane of mostly sleeping passengers before taking Mars hips in his hands and yanking her harshly towards him. She squeals, stumbling into his arms, and he kisses all over her face. “I love you,” he says against her cheek. “I fucking--” against her ear -- “Love you. So--” her chin “-- fucking--” her nose “--much.”

She giggles against his kisses, fingertips lazily trailing along his sides and his back. She manages to keep a constant watchful eye on her passengers at all times, even when the kisses become more and more heated. Harry’s hands hold their tight grip on her hips and he angles them slightly, until her back is pressed against the galley countertop. She opens her mouth to allow him to lick his way inside, and she grins when his fingertips tickle lightly at the hem of her dress.

“Gotta be careful,” she warns again, softly. One arm reaches behind her to steady herself against the counter, while the other wraps around Harry’s neck. Angling his body so that he’s fully out of sight of the passengers, he ducks his head down to kiss along her neck.

“S’why you’re gonna keep an eye out, isn’t it?” He gives her thigh a soft pinch. “God, I wish we had more room on this counter.”

Mars snorts. “Well, these galleys weren’t exactly made for fucking.”

Harry pulls away smugly, raising his eyebrow slightly. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?”

“I mean it seems only fair, does it not?” She grins, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. “Have you ever joined the mile high club?”

Harry smirks. It’s a fair question, of course, but he can’t even begin to count how many times he’s “joined the mile high club.” She senses his thoughts, because she averts her gaze and immediately backpedals. “That’s probably a dumb question,” she mutters. “Sorry. I just--”

“Of course it’s not,” he says. “Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, I have. But I don’t know if it counts.”

Confused, she blinks up at him. “Why would it not--”

“Because it wasn’t with you. My very own little flight attendant.”

Mars shakes her head, clearly growing flustered under his gaze. She giggles. “But surely you’ve been with another--”

Harry kisses her mid-sentence, stopping her in her tracks before her mind can run wild. She is the only person on his mind, the only one he ever wants for the rest of his life.

The kiss grows naturally heated, as expected, and Mars’ back bumps against the galley counter again. Harry reaches up to hold the back of her neck, careful not to mess up her perfectly styled hair, and he smiles against her mouth. She lets out the tiniest hint of a sigh that, if Harry wasn’t listening, he would have completely missed.

Mars reaches her hands around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer into her and angling herself subtly so that his knee is gently propped between her legs.

“Darling,” he says, grinding gently against her and lowering his hand. “Shall we go somewhere more private?” Mars subtly arches into him, kissing his neck, and his voice shakes when he speaks again. “I don’t want to--”

“Let’s go.” She pulls away, her eyes glazed and hungry. “Please. I know the lav isn’t that big but--”

Harry smirks. “Lead the way.”

Mars peaks behind the curtain one last time to ensure no one is coming, then double checks both lavatories. When she’s certain no one is coming, she opens one and slips cautiously inside. Harry follows close behind her, struggling to squeeze into the tiny room the moment he takes a step. He reaches behind him to help Mars close the door, and she fumbles around him to try and reach the latch. She finally catches hold of it, slides it all the way to the right, the lavatory light brightens just a smidge--

And they are truly, truly alone.

Mars shifts awkwardly. “I know its tight quarters,” she says, “But if we--”

Harry doesn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence before he’s right back on her. He presses his mouth to hers, pushing her gently against the sink. There’s an awkward shuffle-- god, it really is tight quarters-- but he’s hardly thinking of that as Mars angles her body to his.

The sound of elbows and knees hitting walls can be heard over the wet, kissing noises, but neither seem to care. Mars half sits-- as best she can-- on the counter and spreads her legs for Harry to stand between them. His hands slip beneath her skirt, and he can already feel her heat before his fingertips even touch her core. The nylons she’s wearing add to the sensation-- clearly-- because her head arches back the minute he touches her. He takes the opportunity to press an open mouthed kiss to her neck. Even through the added layers of both her nylons and her panties, he can feel her dampness. He smirks.

Mars jolts, kicking her still high-heel clad foot against the wall and startling them both. She gives him a sheepish look and giggles. “Oops.”

Harry pulls her closer so he can get a better grip on her before hooking his fingers into the waistband of her nylons.

“Let’s get these off,” he says quietly, lips pressed against her throat.

Mars shuffles a bit, reaching down to help him pry them off. She kicks her heels haphazardly off and giggles when she accidentally elbows the mirror behind her. “This is insane,” she mutters, more to herself than to him.

The minute her nylons are off, Harry shoves them in his back pocket. He goes right back to kissing her, but is distracted when he notices she’s stepping right back into her discarded heels. Puzzled, Harry pulls away briefly, and it takes Mars a few seconds to notice-- obviously too busy with her heels. When she finally does look at him, she furrows her brows.

“What?” she asks. “You don’t think I’m gonna stand barefoot in a lav do you?” Harry snorts, but she continues. “You don’t even know half the shit I’ve seen in these things, Harry. And I mean literal shit. Among other things. Lavs are gross. I can’t even believe--”

Harry’s lips are on hers once again, before she can finish the rest of her sentence. “I love you,” he says, “stop talking about shit.”

They continue kissing, Harry pressing himself as closely to her as he can possibly manage. His fingers graze the dampness between her legs, rubbing circles that have her shuddering and sighing into his mouth and her nails digging into his shoulders. She’s grasping desperately at the small surface area of the sink, trying to give herself some leverage, as Harry pushes further against her.

“We don’t—“ she gasps as Harry’s fingers dip into the waistband of her panties. “We don’t have much time.”

“I know,” Harry mutters against her lips, gulping when his fingertips come in direct contact with her wetness. His other hand wraps loosely around the side of her throat before he curls his fingers around her neck scarf. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Fuck me.” Her voice is just above a whisper, and she licks her already damp lips, which ghost against Harry’s. “Please. Please fuck me.”

Her fingers fumble with his trousers, and he lets go of her neck— reaching down to help her remove his pants. He accidentally elbows the wall for what seems like the hundredth time, but neither of them have time to acknowledge it. Mars jolts, gasping loudly when Harry bites at her neck. “Careful,” she says, “I’m—“

Harry tugs at her scarf, bringing her lips to his own and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss. He licks into her mouth, his nose pushing against hers.

Mars reaches down to grasp at Harry’s dick and his breath hitches in his throat, lips curling into a half-snarl as he tries to keep his balance. He steps closer to her. “I haven’t—“ he breathes, gulping mid sentence when she presses his tip to her entrance. “I haven’t got a condom.”

“We’ll be careful,” she says, but then pulls away with dreamy, half-lidded eyes and an amused smirk. “You didn’t bring any condoms?”

Harry laughs. “I did,” he says. “They’re in my bag. Under the seat. I wasn’t exactly planning for—“ he gestures with his hands and Mars giggles.

“I see,” she says. She pulls him closer by his jacket, kissing tenderly at his chin and up to the corner of his mouth. She runs her hand up through his hair, lightly removing the cap from his head and scratching at his wild curls with her free hand. “It’s okay. We’ll just--” she gasps when he unintentionally brushes her clit, “We’ll be careful.”

They stay like this, kissing and fumbling in the incredibly tight space. She takes his dick between her pretty, polished fingers and he shudders when she gives it a squeeze and a few light yanks. He gulps, letting his mouth hang fully ajar and hanging his head lazily against hers.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fucking hell.”

“Want to suck your dick,” Mars mumbles. “Want it in my mouth so bad.”

“No room,” Harry stammers out, eyes rolling back as his head lolls backwards towards the wall. “Fucking hell, Mars.”

“I know,” she says, picking up the pace with which she tugs and swiping at the precum collecting on his tip. “Just wishing I could.”

“I wish you could, too,” he says with a chuckle. “God, baby, when we get to that hotel--”

Mars presses her lips to his again, effectively shutting him up and smirking ever so slightly when he groans into her mouth. She gives him a squeeze and gently teases the tip of him against her entrance.

“Gotta be quick,” she reminds him, although they both seem to hate that little fact.

Harry puts one hand on the mirror behind Mars’ head, then wraps his other arm around her lower back for support. He leans closer to her and pushes himself slowly inside of her. They both gasp, adjusting to the sudden difference, and although Harry selfishly wants to get right into it, he knows he needs to give Mars a moment.

“Are you okay?” He breathes.

Mars, who’s face isn’t visible to Harry, nods. “M-hm.” Then, she sighs melting against him. “Fucking missed this.”

Harry lets out the breath he’s only just now realized he’s been holding, and gulps. He makes eye contact with himself in the mirror, and he’s overcome with a weird feeling of shame and arousal. He notes pathetic desperation in his own eyes that he hadn’t noticed before, and he has to look away from himself before he starts thinking too hard about how he looks during sex. “Missed it, too,” he mumbles.

Mars sinks her nails into his back, pulling him closer. She bites into his shoulder and he grunts, subconsciously jolting at the sharp sensation. “Fuck, Mars.”

She jolts when his thumb brushes against her clit again, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder. She half-heartedly rolls her hips, and Harry can’t help it… he makes eye contact with himself once again in the mirror. He notices the way her hair has begun to fall out of the bun she has it in, and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.. The arm he has around her tightens its grip, and she jolts again when he unintentionally squeezes at her side.

“I love you,” Mars says, voice whiny— as if she’s on the verge of tears. Harry gulps, because fuck— if she’s crying he’s definitely done for. He sloppily brings his hand up her back, before hooking his fingers into her scarf again and giving her a gentle tug.

She lifts her head and he turns his immediately, open mouth kissing over her cheeks and halfway on her lips before pulling away to once again marvel at the reflection in the mirror. The way her body moves with his every thrust. The way she’s leaning into him and loving on him as best she can in their small space.

“I’m so—“ she starts, mouth opening more as he kisses her. She lets out a loud breath that teeters on a moan, and she has to suck in a gasping breath. “I’m close.”

Harry can’t even muster up the energy to say anything back, he just gulps and picks up the pace. He revels in the way her breath is hot against his neck, and he only halfway notices the gentle banging of her feet against the cabinet below the sink.

His orgasm comes quicker than he’d been anticipating, but it starts low and slow at the base of his belly. He lets out a groan much louder than intended, and he has to inhale sharply through his teeth. “Fuck,” he says, as quietly as he can muster. “Fuck. Fuck.”

His thrusting slows ever so slightly as he cums, and Mars lets out a little hum as she digs her nails further into his back. “Come on baby,” she whines, so desperately it sounds like she’s about to cry. “That’s it, fuck!”

It’s unclear who is saying what as they both curse against one another’s mouths and necks and shoulders. And although Harry’s pace has slowed to an almost full stop, his fingers waste no time finding their way to Mars’ clit. He runs in a few circles, quick and in the exact way he knows she likes, and she gasps.

“Yes,” she says, louder than intended, and she has to bite into his shoulder again to keep quiet. He picks up the pace with his fingers despite the small ounce of energy he has left, and he’s almost startled when her orgasm comes.

It comes with a jolt, and her head is thrown back against the mirror. She groans, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. It’s taking everything in her to be quiet, and Harry is loving it.

“That’s it,” he mumbles softly. “That’s my fucking girl.”

Her fingers involuntarily clench and unclench around his hair, and when he once again catches sight of himself in the mirror he’s almost shocked at how disheveled and filthy he looks right now. His knees nearly buckle when he sees, from the corner of his eye, Mars’ eyes rolling practically to the back of her head. He’s about to ask if she’s okay, but she’s still mid orgasm. And when her eyes open again, he can see she is more than fine.

She sloppily searches for his mouth with her own, and lets out a sigh of relief when she finds it. Her legs shake and her walls flutter around him-- slowly coming to a stop. Her body gradually goes limp against him, and they’re so close to one another that he can feel her heart pounding in her chest as she tries to catch her breath.

Harry’s hand makes its way up her back to cup the back of her head, scratching gently at her scalp as they both try to come down. Her walls flutter residually around her and he swallows before finally mustering up the strength to ask her, with a raspy voice, “Are you okay?”

Mars doesn’t answer at first, she just sighs again. Then, he feels her move slowly, pulling her head back as far as she can to look at him without banging it against the mirror. She’s smiling, eyes red and cheeks flushed. Her hair is a mess, and she’s never looked more beautiful. “I’m okay,” she says, voice hardly above a whisper. She drapes his cap lazily back on top of his head. “Are you okay?”

Harry chuckles, reaching up to brush some of her hair off of her face. “Yeah, I’m okay.” There’s a brief but comfortable silence, then he speaks again. “You should see yourself right now.”

She giggles, coming back to her normal self. “I’m glad I can’t,” she says softly. She pulls back further, scratching affectionately at the back of Harry’s head. For a while, they just sit there, smiling at one another. No words are spoken, but no words are necessary. They just admire one another’s faces, speaking without words.

The plane hits a slight bump, causing Mars to fall forward a bit onto Harry. He stumbles slightly, catching himself, and they both laugh as the seatbelt sign comes on with a ding.

They watch as the symbol of the stickman walking to his seat illuminates on the wall, then Mars clears her throat. “You should probably return to your seat, Mr. Styles. The seatbelt sign is on.”

Harry laughs, slowly pulling himself out of her and trying not to pay much attention to how good it feels. “That it is,” he says. He clears his throat, awkwardly shuffling to tuck himself back into his boxers and pull his pants back up. “Well I do hope you’ll return to my seat again soon, miss. I believe I need a refill.”

Mars laughs, a playfulness behind her eyes. Once Harry is zipped back into his trousers, he bends as best he can to help Mars back into her nylons. Sliding them slowly up her leg, he never breaks eye contact. His lips quirk up into a smirk. “You know how easily I could rip these again?”

Her eyes widen. “No! Don’t! They’re—“

Harry puts up a hand to stop her, a twinkle in his eyes. “I wouldn’t!” He says. “Just remembering.”

Mars hesitates, then softens when she decides to fully trust him. She jumps off the counter and pulls her nylons completely up, adjusting her skirt awkwardly with what little room she has. Harry tries his best to move around her; a task made difficult with the slight rocking of the plane.

“Okay,” Mars says, smoothing her hair in the mirror and readjusting a few bobby pins. “I’ll go out first and see if there’s anyone out there. There shouldn’t be but.. you know. If there is, I’ll say someone in here was sick and needed my help. Do I look okay? How’s my hair?”

Harry’s lip quirk up and he opens his mouth to speak, but Mars cuts him off. “Don’t answer that. I can’t handle another cheeky remark from you.”

Harry snorts. “Alright.” He gestures at the door. “After you.”

Mars lingers for a moment, just watching him, then shakes her head. “God, I love you,” she says, more to herself than to him. She gives herself one last quick look in the mirror, then takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

With careful hands, she unlocks the lavatory door, causing the lights to dim ever so slightly. She steps in front of Harry, as if her whole frame can block him from view, and slowly begins to open the door. Subconsciously, she leans into Harry as she moves, and he has to fully stop himself from taking her hips in his hands and yanking her back into him.

They both peek out at the same time, and are relieved to see that there is no one waiting outside of the bathroom for them. They both let out a quiet breath, and Mars sneaks out the door before Harry can even react.

In the silence that follows after Mars closes the bathroom door behind her, Harry lets out a sigh that turns into a chuckle. He looks at himself in the mirror, and he cannot believe what he’s just done.

Of course it wasn’t the first time he’d had sex on a plane. But damn if it wasn’t the best.

He reaches up to run a hand through his tousled hair, trying his best to fix it, and straightens out his cap. Though the lavatory still feels tiny, it’s remarkable how much of a difference he feels now being the only one in the room. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the way his entire body feels a bit cramped and sweaty.

After a few more moments that feel like hours, he presses his ear up to the bi-fold door of the lavatory. When it doesn’t sound like anyone is speaking on the other side, he decides the coast is clear and exits.

The air in the galley is much cooler than in the cramped bathroom, and subconsciously Harry takes a deep breath. There’s Mars, standing at the galley and restocking soda’s into a galley cart. She looks unphased, and beautiful as ever. It’s almost laughable to think what she and Harry just did.

Mars glances at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Styles?”

“I’m all set,” Harry says. “Thank you.”

They linger once again for just a split second, and Harry has to physically pull himself away with a laugh and a mutter of “shit” under his breath. As he walks away, he hears Mars giggle behind him.

He cannot wait to get her alone tonight.

——

Mars feels giddy when she hears a knock at her hotel room door. For security reasons, Harry hadn’t been allowed to share the crew van with her and her fellow flight attendants, and he’d sworn it was fine. He said he had errands to run anyway, and although Mars knew that was nonsense, she let it happen. They’d said a hurried goodbye, and Mars sent Harry off with a promise to send him her hotel information and room number as soon as she had it.

The wait had felt like ages, but now that he’s here, the anticipation is forgotten.

With one last glance in the mirror she giggles to herself and scurries over to the door. She peeks through the peephole, smiling when she sees Harry on the other side..

“Who iiiiiis it?” She sings.

“Special delivery,” Harry responds.

Mars giggles, flinging the door open and practically falling into Harry. He wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head and scratching affectionately at her back.

“Hi,” Mars says, muffled against Harry’s arm.

Harry takes a gentle step into the hotel room, careful to take Mars with him and not trip her. “Hello,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. The door closes behind them with a little help from Harry’s foot. “Long time no see.”

“Mm.” Mars looks up at him, her chin resting on his chest, before pursing her lips.

Harry chuckles, leaning down to comply with her silent request for a kiss and continuing to push them further into the room. “You look so good.”

Mars had tried her best with what she’d had in her suitcase. While she’d opted to leave her fanciest lingerie in her drawer at the crashpad, she had packed a nice lacy thong and bra for this trip in case any opportunities arose. She wears them now under a long tshirt that grazes her thighs.

Mars laughs, separating her lips from his. The back of her legs hit the bed. “Sorry I didn’t pack anything better.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry picks at Mars’ tshirt sleeve. “This is fantastic.”

“Mm.” Mars says nothing, kissing him again then squealing when he pushes her down on the bed.

He drops down to his hands and knees, crawling up a very giggly Mars’ body. He stops every now and then, dropping to press kisses against her skin. When he reaches her neck, he lingers, and she sighs, tilting her head to grant him easier access.

Her fingers find their way into his hair, and she scratches affectionately at his scalp. “I love you,” she says, hardly audible.

Harry lifts his head and smiles. “What?”

“I said I love you. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get the chance to see you again.”

“That’s silly.” Harry leans down and presses a kiss to her nose.

“But I was so… I mean when we…” She trails off in a sigh. “I was so mean to you.”

“Well I wasn’t exactly an angel to you either,” Harry chuckles, lazily drawing a circle on the spot where her tummy meets her hip and smirking when she quivers a little. “And I will spend every single day of my life making it up to you.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Mars says. “Harry, I am so sor—“

“Mars.” There’s a bit of a more serious edge to his tone, although he stays smiling. “It happened. It’s over. I love you. That’s it.”

“But—“

“I love you,” Harry repeats. “That’s it.”

Mars hesitates, then closes her mouth with a giggle. Before she can even think about speaking again, Harry’s kissing her, soft and gentle. There is intention behind his kiss, but it isn’t charged. It’s sweet, and it’s a way to communicate with no words. Mars smiles, opens her mouth to grant him access, and communicates, as best she can, the feelings swimming around in her heart.

And as they kiss, what she wants to say is “you’re my soulmate. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone as special as you. I don’t think I ever will. You’ve transformed my life in ways I didn’t know were possible. I didn’t know I was capable of being so happy in this lifetime, and I will try every second of every day to show you the same love you have shown me.”

But what she says is, “I love you.”

And when Harry smiles, his hand raising to lovingly cup her cheek, she knows he understands exactly what she means.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles fic #Harry fic #fic #Harry Styles fluff #Harry fluff #fluff #Harry Styles smut #Harry smut #smut

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hannahssimblr · 4 months

Text

“Is that everything? Any petrol or diesel?”

“No... Actually, do you’ve something for bug bites?”

“Like, that insect repellent stuff or some kind of topical cream?”

“The repellent, please.”

“I think we have it,” the woman at the till goes to the shelves behind her while I lean across to watch as she rummages through rows of suncream and painkillers.

“It’s the midges,” I say conversationally, “They eat me alive, see I think I’ve really delicious blood.”

“They’re annoying alright,” she scans a bottle of Jungle Formula and packs it into a plastic bag along with all of the junk food I’ve just bought. “That it?”

I scan the shelves quickly, “oh, actually, can I have a box of those too?”

She glances over her shoulder, “Condoms?”

“Yeah, please.”

She eyes me up, “Are you seventeen?”

“Yep.”

“I’m not sure you are.”

“Do I have a right to buy them?”

“I have a right to refuse if I don’t think that you’re the age of consent.”

“Respectfully I’m going to get them from somewhere whether you refuse or not,” she narrows her eyes to slits but I give her a big smile so that she can’t be angry, “Or if you want I’ll just not use protection and it’ll be your fault my life is ruined.”

“Do you have ID?”

“Why would I have ID? I’m seventeen.”

She snatches and tosses a box across the counter at me, “Fine, there you go, because I know well that you’d stand here all day and hold up the queue just by the look of you, you cheeky bollox. That’ll be Twenty three thirty altogether.”

“Yeah, no issue,” I slot my dad’s credit card into the machine and stab in his digits. I see her watching it, a weighted, black metal platinum visa, and it’s definitely obvious that it isn’t mine, but she doesn’t know my circumstances, and anyway I know that my dad would have given me money if I had felt like talking to him today, but I didn’t. Borrowing from his wallet is the same thing.

I glance at the shopkeeper one last time before leaving, “What are the chances you’d score me a pack of cigarettes?”

“Get lost.”

I’m checking my text messages on the way out of the shop, so I don’t see the man walking in the opposite direction. We bump shoulders in the doorway and I mutter an apology before looking up and realising who I have just collided with.

His nostrils flare as he looks me up and down, and as I stand and look cooly back at him I wonder if he gets off, like genuinely gets off on the idea of how threatening he thinks he is.

“You’re a friend of Clóda?” He says.

“Yeah, and you are?”

“Her father.”

“Oh right, yeah. I guess I never made the connection.” I thought you were just some weirdo glaring over at us in the Boat Club, is what I want to add but I’m not sure I’m feeling entirely suicidal today.

He stares me down until I feel my skin prickle, and when his eyes find my bag of shopping, including the Durex box pressing label-out through the translucent plastic his face turns a ferocious shade of puce. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“And who are your parents?”

“Christopher and Colette, who are yours?”

“None of your business,” He splutters, “Are you one of those young fellas who hangs about in the caravan parks?”

“So what if I was?”

“Well my daughter is a hard worker, she’s busy at her job and I’d rather she wasn’t being distracted or having any of her time wasted.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“So if you wouldn’t mind steering clear of the Boat Club when she’s working, I’d rather you not hanging about and causing complaints from the customers.”

“Oh the customers complain about me, do they?”

He wrinkles his nose, “We prefer to uphold a certain standard at the club.”

My skin prickles, “So basically you don’t want anyone who looks like they stay in the caravan parks hanging around and making it look cheap.”

“That’s not an unreasonable request, especially since you don’t exactly dine with us, do you?”

I’m walking away already, “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“Yep.”

On the shortcut through a holiday park I furiously kick a stone out of my way. Then a piece of rubbish. Then I spot a ceramic flower pot by the entrance to the communal showers and I kick that too, knocking it to the side and splitting it in two, and the soil spills out and the plant slumps to the tarmac. It looks pathetic so I kick it again.

Suddenly a tennis ball comes from nowhere and whacks me in the back with a thunk. I whirl around, “Hey!”

“Hey yourself!” Kelly grabs another ball and flings it at me, and I duck as it wallops into the wall behind me. I grab and fling it back, “What’s your problem, Kelly?”

“What’s my problem?” She shrieks as she dodges it, “What’s your problem?”

“What is it with you and your brother throwing tennis balls at me, huh? What did I do now?”

She hurls another, “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh! Walking!”

“Well stay out of my caravan park. Go the long way around.”

“Your caravan park? Kelly, if this is about the frog in your hair-”

“The frog? Fuck your frog,” she lets out a tiny squeal as she jumps out of the path of the ball I’ve flung back, “and fuck you, by the way.”

“Fuck me? Fuck you Kelly, I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Suck my dick!” She spins on her heel and stalks away and I watch her for a minute, bewildered, until she disappears between a couple of mobile homes and then, when she’s fully gone and I am alone with the broken flower pot again, I pick up my overturned bag of goodies and shake my head.

“Little weirdo.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy #Kelly is such a scourge honestly #what ever could she be mad about hmm #very bad language in this btw #idk if that's a TW or what #in my school (all girls) we actually used to say suck my flaps #but that felt too graphic #so we're sticking with the classics tonight

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quotes-from-diamond-city · 5 months

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Penny, reading out an email she typed: ...and I guess what I'm trying to say is, I like you Ashley. Like, like you like you.

Penny, out loud: Grandpa.

Dr. Crygor: What's wrong Penny? You miss the old block from which your father was chipped? Or was it your mother? I can never-

Penny: Shush! Could you go take a walk around the world? A friend is coming over soon and we need to talk regarding the way I feel about certain things.

Dr. Crygor: Like triple ply toilet paper? That third ply man, really keeps your fingers from poking through when you're over the hole.

Penny: No, listen. It makes my chemicals boil having to spell it out to you like this. I invited Ashley over so I can tell her...I like her.

Dr. Crygor: The scarlet panda has awoken.

Mike: The scarlet panda has awoken? That's seven days, 14 hours and 93 minutes sooner than I thought it would.

Penny, sighing: This is my life. What the hell is going on?

Dr. Crygor: Granddaughter, there are moments in a person's life that are so important they should not be interrupted, even by fathers or father figures. Your first real scrap.

Mike: Blood in, blood out.

Dr. Crygor: Hitting a home run.

Mike: No pun intended.

Dr. Crygor: Hitting a home run.

Mike: Pun intended.

Dr. Crygor: Sacrificing your first born on a hilltop.

Mike: Ritual sacrifices are illogical.

Dr. Crygor: And when you tell a human being that you yearn for them in a primal, emotional, and yes, physical way.

Mike, suddenly black and white, in French: Love is sacred.

Dr. Crygor, also black and white: Baguette.

Penny: Wait, did I have an aunt or uncle?

Mike: Operation scarlet panda is a failsafe, Penny! This magnificent man-child who is your grandfather tasked me with the responsibility of devising a plan to keep him from ruining your most important pre-pubescent milestones. Until you complete your mission of emotional bravery, I promise you, your grandfather will be immobilized. I'll feed him, I'll bathe him, I'll monitor his every move.

Penny, absolutely done with this: Bathe him? Why don't you just take him to a movie?

Dr. Crygor and Mike: *laugh in unison at the suggestion*

#warioware #incorrect quotes #incorrect warioware #penny crygor #dr. crygor #mike #mike warioware #ashley #ashley warioware #ashenny #ashley x penny #long quote #source: blark and son

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r0mantic-f00l · 17 days

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(nearly cried when writing this so don't say I didn't warn youuu)

Cardigan

The rain stopped.

Gone were the days of the lingering smell of water in the air, the days of running to find shelter from the harsh rain, the days of feelings raindrops trinkle down your face as the Sun only peeked out of the clouds.

Summer turned the air humid, and the birds happier. Umbrellas were no longer a common necessity, but rather sunglasses, accompanied with sunscreen and hats.

It felt strange. You did not know why.

It felt as if the world spun a little faster, time counting down its seconds quicker.

You remained in the rain.

-♡-

Sunshine glowed on your face, tainting your cheeks a pinkish colour as you strolled through the park.

It was relatively empty with the exception of children riding on their bikes and couples lying on the grass with their heads tilted towards the sky.

Although you focused your gaze away from the latter, instead choosing to rub the material of your soft cardigan between your fingers as you glanced around the flowers and trees.

A glimpse of familiar raven hair flashed before your eyes, like a haunting memory that would forever remain in your heart.

It was him.

It was the man who couldn't love you.

It was the man you still loved.

You froze in your place, staring as he kept walking, his gaze on the gravel beneath his feet as his hands were tucked into his black slacks.

He was only a few feet away from you when he had finally looked up and saw you.

You were certain that his expression matched yours.

He froze in his place too, muttering your name softly as his ocean eyes continued to stare into yours.

"Regulus." You exhaled, boldly taking another step towards the man as you mustered the courage to say something other than his name.

But how could you when the name was whispered to you in the night, in the darkness, when you were alone.

"Hi." Regulus had said with a slight laugh in disbelief, as if he had forgotten that you existed outside of a dream.

"Hello." You responded, smiling at him as normal as you could.

He took a step towards you, hesitant in his movement, as he opened his mouth once more to speak.

"It's... it's nice to see you."

"You too." You replied quickly, clearing your throat.

"God, how long has it been since we last saw--"

"6 months." Regulus interrupted you, his eyes flashing with a certain gloom.

You knew how long it had been.

You knew the last time you saw him was when he was standing outside your apartment door, looking like he had a million things to say. Then he left as quickly as he came, and you knew why. Your date the previous night hadn't exactly been mindful with where he threw his clothes.

"6 months." You repeated, like you didn't know.

He nodded, sighing as he looked around the park.

"So, how have you been?" Regulus asked, in his attempt to change the topic, to forget the memory that replayed in his mind.

"I've been good."

A lie.

"You?" You reflected the question back to him.

"Also good."

A lie.

You both stood there as time finally stood still just for the two of you. The bitter feeling of regret hung over you, and you didn't know why.

Did you regret walking out of that door? Did you regret letting him leave so easily when he saw the other man's clothes? Did you regret loving him?

You didn't know, but you did know that you would regret it if you let him walk away again.

"Do you... do you wanna walk around? Maybe catch up?" You asked with a hopeful gleam in your eye.

Regulus hesitated, you could see it in the way he rubbed his neck as he considered the question.

Then he finally had his answer.

"Sure, why not?"

The two of you strolled slowly around the large park, talking like old friends who missed each other dearly. In a way, you were just that. Except you weren't old friends. You were lovers that a mistake ruined.

Regulus told you about his job in the Ministry, discussing how chaotic it had become. He laughed about his brother, with whom he had finally rekindled with, and how much of a mess he truly could be. He never mentioned a relationship, a person that he actually loved.

You told him about your job, about how you had been promoted and how much you loved it. You gushed over your kitten, a British Shorthair which you named Hendrix. You didn't talk about any dates, any new relationships, because you truly hadn't been on any dates, not since the day Regulus came and left.

Eventually, the two of you sat down on a green bench, watching as ducks from a nearby lake pecked at bread with their beaks.

"...Regulus?"

He hummed, not taking his gaze off the birds.

"That day you came over,"

His face dropped slightly, as did his stare.

"I-I should've explained what happened, I should've--"

"No, no, you didn't need to explain anything, you don't need to explain." Regulus protested, looking at you with a small smile on his face that didn't match his eyes.

"But I do." You gazed into his eyes for a moment before sighing.

"It was just a date, a first date, and I... I was feeling particularly... sad so I got a bit tipsy and one thing led to another."

You huffed, shaking your head.

"It didn't mean anything. He didn't mean anything. He wasn't..."

He wasn't you, you wanted to say.

No one could be you. No one could replace you.

Instead, you chose to go along with the act of being at peace over your failed relationship.

Regulus nodded in understanding.

Silence fell over you two once again before he broke it.

"I always regretted letting you leave."

You frowned, turning your head towards him.

"I-It's fine, Reggie. It was fine."

"No, it isn't. I wish... I wish I stopped you and just..." He trailed off, sighing in frustration of himself.

"I did love you, you know." Regulus murmured, and your eyes turned glassy, mimicking the eyes of porcelain dolls.

"I just struggled to say it. Only eight letters, but I just couldn't say it. That doesn't mean I didn't feel it. I felt it strongly. I loved you."

You sniffed, staring down at your hands resting in your lap as you felt Regulus' warm gaze.

"..I do love you."

You glanced at him, a tear escaping from the barriers of your eyelids.

"And I'm sorry that I broke your heart."

Your lips quivered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hid your face in your hands. You felt pathetic, felt weak for crying like this in front of him, in a park with the sun going down in the sky. But you never thought you would speak to him again, nevertheless hear those words come out of his mouth.

It was overwhelming, it was everything you wanted.

But it was at the wrong time.

"..This is my favourite cardigan of yours." Regulus poked at your cardigan, making you laugh slightly through your tears.

You lifted your head up.

"I feel stupid."

Regulus tilted his head and frowned. "Why?"

"Because I'm wearing a cardigan in 30 degree weather." You huffed, smiling when he chuckled.

"Well, you look beautiful. You always do."

Your arms threw themselves around his neck, hugging him tightly as you sniffled, willing the tears to stop.

His arms slowly wrapped around your waist, and you felt his body relax at your closeness, the softness of your cardigan between his fingertips making him feel at peace only for a moment.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the false feeling that everything was back to normal, before you pulled away and stood up, knowing that it was time to go, time to walk away again.

He joined you, standing up to face you.

"Don't be a stranger." You grinned, like you were acquaintances just passing by.

Regulus reciprocated your grin, but it fell as soon as you turned around and began walking away.

-♡-

It began raining when you left the park, and soon enough it turned into a shower that ruined Regulus' favourite cardigan.

You couldn't distinguish your tears or the raindrops falling down your face, but you did know that you only felt cold because he wasn't there beside you to keep you warm.

-♡-

#Spotify #marauders #marauders era #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black angst #angst

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windandwater · 2 months

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I know various people have talked about how insular people around here are but like. we need to actually incorporate this fact into our behavior, and change it. and what I mean by this is. people who aren't online all the time have an extremely different perspective on almost everything we take for granted here.

like. my parents watched Sherlock. they enjoyed it a lot and my mom still makes jokes related to it without any irony or self-loathing. to them it was just. a fun detective show, a modern take on an old story. watch once and move on with life. she and my dad didn't spend several years knee-deep in navel-gazing meta that ruined it for everyone so now they can't talk about it without feeling like everyone's going to judge them for ever liking it in the first place.

partially this is a function of a lot of people here being teens & kids when it came out, but we (my parents & me) were adults. I was having a good time in fandom and look back on the 2010s pretty fondly while a lot of people here are still going through the process of hating their past selves, and you tend to project that onto the things you used to like. I did that too. and then I came around to forgiving & loving my past selves--all of them--which is why I have no problem admitting to all the things I loved in the early 90s & early 2000s but would have had a hard time admitting to 15 years ago.

but it's not just that. the weird refusal to pretend certain things never happened--Harry Potter. a smaller example, Firefly. etcetera. people think if you even mention HP at all you're automatically terf? like...if you go into the outside world, I'm sorry, but JKR's shit beliefs are not common knowledge. and like it or not that book kinda changed the world. and not all for the worse.

(I will NOT go off here on why Joss Whedon seems to get a pass for Buffy & Avengers but someone mentioned a bad thing about Firefly and now we can't talk about it at all--not to mention that it's apparently still okay for him to actively profit off of his work--but. that's off topic.)

(for the record my views are thus: neither of these creators should get any more money or attention as creators, but we shouldn't pretend that the stuff they made had zero effect on us as a culture or as individuals.)

this isn't really about any of these pieces of media specifically, it's more like. this weird insular culture that believes certain things are common knowledge and therefore if you ever talk about them except for in the Approved ways, You're Bad. it's not healthy here and it's not healthy if you ever plan to have a conversation with any living human.

I'm tired of like. if you post a gif of the wrong show you're cringe. if you reference a the wrong book you hate queer people. if you quote the wrong show you're racist. no matter what the actual gif or quote or reference is. it's not like that outside the internet and on the internet it feels like walking on very stupid eggshells.

I know how we got here but it's dumb. the past happened. it wasn't always perfect but we were still part of it. if we erase it we'll never learn from it but we'll also never get comfy with good the ways it shaped us.

we're so busy molding ourselves into a perfect future that we don't realize that the imperfect past got us here in the first place. let it exist. in all the ways it was.

#adventures in text posts #also to continue my fuckin. preaching.#you can curtail all day what people are & aren't allowed to talk about #but I ask you #what does any of this accomplish in terms of actually helping people #because I guarantee you my problematic (tm) mom does more for her community than any post I've read on this shithole #so what are you actually doing

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viviannesmonster · 2 months

Text

CHAPTER TWO OF GLITZ AND GLAMOR

Toriel

You looked up to see who had saved you, and it was a giant goat wearing a long purple dress.

"What a miserable creature, torturing such a poor innocent youth." She said, walking up to you.

"Do not be afraid, my child." She said, kneeling down in front of you. "It is I, Toriel. Guardian of the ruins."

"I visit this area every day to see if anyone has fallen down here." She said. "You are the first human to have come here in a long time."

Toriel offered her paw to you. "Come, I will guide you through the catacombs."

You slowly took her hand, unsure if you could trust her or not.

She smiled and stood up.

"The ruins are full of ancient puzzles, diversions and doorkeys." She explained as you two walked together.

"You must solve them to make your way around here. Here, let me show you an example." Toriel said as she stepped on specific stones to open a door.

"See? Piece of cake!" She said as she carried on.

You followed her through the door.

"Why don't you try the next puzzle on your own? I have labeled the switches you need to flip." She said, moving to a small river.

You saw a labeled switch and flipped it.

"Very good!" She said. "Now flip the other one."

You walked over the small river Toriel was once standing in front of and flipped the next labeled switch, which made some spikes lower.

"Well done! I am proud of you, little one. Let us continue!"

She walked into another area and you followed her.

"As a human living the underground." She said. "You will need to learn how defend yourself when a monster encounters you. Not all monsters are friendly and may wish to harm you."

"Do you see the dummy?" She asked, pointing at it.

You nodded.

"Try talking to it. I will normally result the conflict should a monster ever approach you, but it is still important to know how to treat monsters. If you act a certain way, a monster will not want to fight you. Then you may spare it." She explained.

You walked up to the dummy and stared at it for a few seconds, obviously feeling very awkward.

You turned back to Toriel and she gave you a patient smile.

You looked at the dummy again and you entered a fight with it.

There were four options you could choose from while in a fight.

Fight, Act, Items, or Spare.

You chose to act.

You could either talk to the dummy or check it's status.

You chose to talk to the dummy.

"...Hi? How are you?"

The dummy obviously didn't respond.

"Wonderful!" Toriel cheered, clapping her paws. "Very good, my child!"

You spared the dummy and ended the fight.

"Very good, my child." She said. "Let us move along."

She led you into another room and brought you to a giant spike puzzle.

"What do we do here?" You asked.

"Take my hand." She said.

You took her hand and she led you across the spike path.

"That one was a little dangerous." She said, walking away.

You followed her and she walked into a corridor with a giant pillar at the end. "You haven't done excellently thus far, my child."

"However. I have a difficult request to ask of you."

"What is it, Toriel?"

She paused. "...I would like you to walk to the end of the room by yourself. Forgive me for this."

She ran off and hid behind the pillar.

You stared at her dumbfounded for a few seconds, then shrugged and walked to the end of the room as you were asked to.

Once you reached the end, she appeared out of the corner and smiled at you.

"Greetings my child, don't worry. I did not leave you. I was merely behind this pillar."

"I know. I could see you."

She nodded. "Yes I'm sure you could. But there was a reason for that. To test your independence."

"Why?" You asked.

"Because there are some things I need to tend to, and it would be dangerous for you to come with me."

"Oh! I know!" She said. "I will give you a cellphone. That way you can call me if you need anything."

She handed you an old phone and stood up straight.

"I will return as soon as I can."

You nodded and she started to walk away.

Then she turned back to you.

"Be good and stay here, won't you?"

(Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for more and have a good day)

<- Chapter One

Chapter Three ->

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #undertale mettaton #mettaton #mettaton x reader #female reader #full length story #chapter 2

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redwayfarers · 1 year

Text

Just what friends do

Fandom: Wayfarer IF Characters: Cassander Inteus (OC), Aeran Kellis Pairing: Intellis (Cassander x Aeran) Rating: Gen Words: 711 OCKissWeek day 3 and this time, I’m in Wayfarer land, because @just-eyris-things requested privately an Intellis fic and who am I to deny an Intellis request, of all things? These two really are the epitome of ‘it’s requited and they’re both idiots’ and kudos to their singular romance braincell for carrying them up to ep 2.

prompt: nostalgia

It’s raining in Rona. But that’s not news, exactly; it’s always raining in this gods-forsaken place. Sometimes, it feels like the sky wants to drown it but people refuse to go. At least it’s not a downpour, and that’s a relief I don’t think I can fully express in words. I won’t have to shake my head like a wet dog after it; I did once, and Aeran snorted. I looked him square in the eye and said, “Woof.”

The apartment roared in laughter. My heart felt a little warmer, I think. I like it when he laughs. I like making him laugh. To think he’s heard all my jokes ever since we were kids and he’s laughing at them still makes something broken in me piece itself ever so slightly together.

This isn’t a woof kind of rain. No, this is the sad rain that brings about a somber mood and makes you want to curl at home and reminisce about your dreary, horrible past as you stare at walls. We don’t have the luxury of staying at home, but we do have an hour to kill and I do feel like dredging up things I wouldn’t have considered dredging otherwise.

Aeran sits beside me, lost in his own thoughts. We took shelter next to an old, stone building, mostly because there are benches there and our feet are sore from walking this wretch of a town over. Light illuminates his scarred eye; when I first saw the thin line, I joked about two parts of his eyebrows wanting a separation. I can’t imagine him without it, of course. It gives him a certain charm, a rugged lack of delicacy. If I follow the line of it, I might just end up at the corner of his lips and then what? The only natural course of action is to think about his lips and it’s not the healthiest thing to do, considering nothing will ever come of it but stupid little hopes I crush every time.

I don’t think I’ve wanted to kiss someone so badly in ages.

It wasn’t like this when we were younger. It was easier, simpler. We did part ways after graduation, and it did feel awkward not having him around to tell him about my day, but I knew I was collecting stories for when we inevitably saw each other again. I knew I had a friend somewhere in this world, and it meant more to me than I can say. Still does, in a lot of ways.

That’s why whenever he’s around, I feel like I could take on the world and like he’s always got my back. I shouldn’t worry about something as stupid as his lips in the face of that but here I am, trying to banish them from my mind in vain.

But maybe, if I wasn’t a fucking coward, if I just told him, if I just leaned in and actually kissed him, maybe I could–

Nonsense. It would ruin everything. I’m half convinced I’m hallucinating the vaguely lingering touches and looks. I might be reckless, but this is too precious to gamble with. I look at my hands and suppress the urge to bury my face in them.

Rhesaina alive, it used to be so much easier between us.

“Cass?” Aeran’s voice rings through the cloud of my misery, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, leaning back against the wall. “Just feeling a little… Like poking old wounds. For fun.”

He blinks. “That’s not exactly a good thing, you know,” he replies gently. “Please don’t do it.” He taps me on the arm. “If you have something on your mind, you do know you can tell me, right?”

“I know, Aeran,” I whisper. If I lean down just a little more, I could kiss him; but I choose to be rational (what a fucking miracle that is) so I bury my face in the crown of his head. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Songweaver,” he says. “That’s what friends are for.”

It is, and I’m glad I have such a friend in my life, but do friends really wanna know what the other’s lips feel like? I bury a bittersweet smile in his hair.

It used to be so much simpler.

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rheagodlywrites · 2 years

Text

CODE:Broken

Sbi x Robot! reader part two

When traveling Y/n comes back for a while to see her old family. The people that took them in. Tommy spends time with her but only for Dream to ruin the moment

[Part One]

I hauled my bag back to the familiar lands of the SMP. The huge cobblestone towers that Tommy would make, the large sign that said fear. I recognized it from the memory banks. I guide myself to the house that Techno and Phil stayed at since you wanted to visit. Having found no clues about why I was activated or why my memory was distorted, left me a bit frazzled. As i walked through the ice and snow, my memory files pulled from the last I had spoke with everyone.

I knocked on the door patiently waiting for someone to answer.

“Tommy I told you not to come back. I can’t-“ the door opened to an angered Techno but his face softened almost immediately.

“Greetings Technoblade. May I come in? My servos may freeze if I push my heating system any further.” He allowed me to enter without a word. I place my things neatly on the floor and sit in a chair.

“I will be recharging. Give me one second, please.” I had figured out very quickly that I was solar powered. All I had to do was stand in the sun for a few hours. Like any human, I could close my eyes and ‘rest’ to recharge. I did this for about ten minutes before opening your eyes.

“Now then. Have you been well in the time I was absent?” I inquired.

“Yes. I have. What about you? It’s been A while.”

“Oh I’ve been the same I suppose. I learned how to lower my emotion meter to get more work done. I’ve learned a lot in the time that has passed. Do you know where Tommy is?” I question. Techno shrugged.

“You have a communicator. Message him?” I nod,remembering and tap my temple.

“Ok I’ll see you later. Farewell,Techno.” My leave was quick as I left to meet with Tommy. I found the boy on the prime path. Prime who’s he had a strong belief to.

“Y/n! You’re back! I missed you!” He hugged me like no tomorrow. I pat his head.

“Careful. You may break me. This body can only handle so much.” He let go awkwardly laughing off the moment. I walk with Tommy listening as he filled me in on what has happened. Some of it wasn’t as bad as others but one thing that stood out was that Dream escaped with Technoblade’s help. Tommy had to be distressed about it but I had no place to say too much. I don’t even feel like a human does. I may look human, but I will never be one.

“Hey Tommy. Let’s go. I wish to make you a meal. Just allow me to obtain the materials. I don’t have the main things I need currently.”

We searched for the items I needed. Tommy was more than willing to help but he was slightly silly. A pig had gutted him and he fell over. He got back on his feet but started yelling curses at the pig running after it. When we agreed to head toward my house that I built in case I came back, we started hunting in that direction. As we walked through the forests, a man in a green hood and a mask was standing in our way. We could only see his mouth, which was unsettling for Tommy. He hid away behind me.

“Hey Tommy~” His voice sounded sweet but was laced with a certain venom that the human mind wouldn’t notice right away.

“Tommy why don’t you come here? We’re friends,right? I just wanna talk. We have so much to catch up on since I escaped. Now come here.” Tommy stayed behind me only caused Dream to press his lips into a thin line. Suddenly his voice changed into one that was pure poison.

“Tommy. Here. Now. Or do I have to remind you want happens when you don’t listen?”

It was almost immediately. Tommy slowly walked to him. He was shaking all over and tears flowed freely. I push Tommy back behind me and approach Dream.

“You are a threat to the safety. Please evacuate the area or I will have to activate my self defense protocol.” Dream ignored my presence entirely until I pushed him back further from Tommy.

“I said leave.” I copy his tone but this..made things worse. I wish I’d known him. Maybe things would have changed.

“Move out of my way. I will claim what’s mine.”

“You may have manipulative abilities that work on humans..but I am a robot. A machine that will protect Tommy. Now leave.”

“You fucking robotic bitch. You think I’m gonna listen to you?! Well you have another thing coming!” Dream pulled his axe out and cut my head off. While my body can still function, it’ll only be an amount of time before I deactivated. Dream tore my legs,arms and torso apart. My voice box was mildly damaged but I couldn’t get words out right . He just kept going until my body was mangled. When he finally left Tommy was in shambles. He cried mumbling about how it is his fault and he is to blame.

“TuBbO. GeT HiM.”

My voice wasn’t good but Tommy understood. He put my head in a bag and carried the rest of my body. I felt my power slowly dip into my emergency reserves.

“Tubbo!” Tommy screamed, kicking the door down as he ran inside. Tubbo was eating with Ranboo but upon seeing me, they instantly got up and lead Tommy to his work station. Tubbo had Tommy set me on a workbench. Tubbo rewired my head back in my shoulders and did his best in what he had left of my body. Tommy managed to get all my parts it was a matter of stabilizing me.

“Y/n..Don’t worry. I’m gonna put you into emergency mode and when you wake up you’ll feel brand new.” Tubbo pressed the back of your head and a screen flashed on my vision.

!!!EMERGENCY MODE PROTOCOL!!!

Shutting down for reset…

Darkness was what I felt. It was like last time but..I remember everything. Tommy, Wilbur, Phil, Technoblade, Ranboo and everyone else. When I open my eyes, Tubbo looked exhausted. Tommy was passed out in a chair and Ranboo on the floor.

“Y/n! You’re back! Is everything ok?!” Tubbo asked.

“Running diagnostics.” As my system checked my everything I noticed something different.

“System is clear but why do I have markings?” There were faint lines on my legs and arms.

“Sorry, Bossman. I tried but I couldn’t get the metal to seamlessly go back together. I guess you can say you’re cool like us! You have scars now!” He smiled but for some reason a liquid fell down my face.

“What’s this?” Tubbo panicked.

“Oh! Uh! You’re crying! Oh shit! Sorry man!” He wiped the tears but how can I do that.

“How can I even cry? I have an emotional meter but still..”

“I guess you’re more advanced than you thought. I also found chip. It says memory so I want you to have it. Maybe it had old memories?” He hands me the chip and I stare for a while. I shake my head and crush it with my hand.

“I don’t need old memories anymore. I just need what I have now.” Tommy started to wake up, his snoring slowly disappearing.

“Y/n..?” He asked exhausted.

“It’s clear you two need rest. Come on. Let me take you to bed.” I lifted Tommy into my arms and Tubbo trailed behind. Ranboo floated behind us but left us on the way. I helped them both into bed but before I could go, Tommy latched onto my arm.

“Don’t leave. Not like last time..” his voice was desperate. So I stayed. I sat in a chair next to them and held Tommy’s hand.

“I won’t let this happen ever again. I will make sure that one day.. you’ll be free.”

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genevievemd · 2 years

Text

Long Story Short (2/4)

Chapter Two: All Too Well

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure), mentions of F!MC (Genevieve McClure) x M!OC (Ryan Ozwell) Word Count: 1732 Rating: T Category: Angsty fluff, Mini Series Trope(s): and an ex came back in the picture,

Summary: ~Series: The four times Ethan met Genevieve’s exes. (In chronological order) ~ Chapter: Gen finally reveals a painful part of her past to Ethan. (Set a month after their first date)

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, a few curse words

A/N: This chapter makes me sad, I really put my little baby through so much before Ethan. Enjoy the angsty fluff.

The sun is just beginning to set as they walk into Ethan’s apartment. The midsummer sin casting shadows across the living room floor. Its amazing how quickly she’s gotten comfortable in his home. Only one month into officially dating, and Genevieve would gladly spent every night here if she could.

She sits at the kitchen island as she watches him place their takeout onto the counter, then turning to grab them plates. She knows the question is coming, the one about why she was so absent today. A part of her is dreading it, terrified of having to give him the answer, but a larger part us ready to take down the final brick from the wall around her heart.

Because, although they’ve been only been official for a month, they’ve really been together since the attack eight months ago. And it was high time she let him know all of her.

Especially because this last part, this terrible and painful secret, could completely change is mind about her.

“Ethan?” Genevieve takes a deep breath, deciding to bite the bullet and get it over with.

“G.”

“Do you remember after our first night together, when you asked about my tattoo and I told you I got it after a really bad breakup? And then you asked about it and said I could tell you when I felt safe enough?”

“Yes.”

She bites her lip, unsure of how to continue. Her mind a jumbled mess of words and fractured sentences.

Ethan turns at her continued silence. “You’re ready now?”

Gen nods, taking a deep breath. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.” He quickly drops the takeout container in his hand, coming to stand beside her. “You’re sure you’re ready? You don’t have to ever tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. We’re serious and you should know all of me. Even this part.”

“Alright. Let’s go sit on the couch.” He takes her hand and leads her to the couch, letting her keep hold of it as they get settled.

“I know I told you it was bad.”

“Yes, and I put it together on my own, how bad it truly was.”

“Really?” Gen looks up from their joined hands, surprised.

“I could see it in the way you respond to certain things and the way you are with me.”

“But you never said anything.”

“Because you weren’t ready to tell me. I had told you, when you were ready. Regardless of whether I figured it out on my own or not.”

“Right. Well, thank you.” She traces the lines on his palm, memorizing every inch of his hand. “I don’t know where to start.”

“What’s his name?” His voice is soft, gentle. Patient.

“Ryan Ozwell.”

“How old where you when you dated?”

“I was 19, a freshman in undergrad.”

“He wasn’t?”

“No. He was 24, and…”

This is the part that scares her, the dirty details of the affair that ruined and maimed her in a million different ways.

Gen looks up, finding his eyes already on her. Full of concern and dare she say love.

It gives her the courage to press on. Because if he looks at her like that, he can’t possibly leave her now.

“And my T.A., so technically my teacher. Like you.” She takes a deep breath, feeling her eyes begin to blur and burn. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Doing it again with you.”

“But you aren’t.” Ethan offers her a small smile, free hand reaching out to brush a tear off her cheek. “If I thought you were simply with me because I’m your boss, we wouldn’t have made it this far. That’s not who are you, Genevieve. The fact that I’m your mentor, your attending, is and was only a complication. Not the deciding factor. As I’m sure it was with Ryan, as well.”

“You don’t care?”

“No. Like I said, I know you.”

“Yeah.” She smiles softly, feeling a small weight lift off her shoulders. “I’ve never had someone like that before.”

“You do now.”

“That might change when you hear the rest.” She loses her voice as the fear comes back.

Taking ahold of her lungs with an iron grip, squeezing until there’s nothing left.

“Doubtful. Nothing will ever change the way I look at you, or how I feel about you, Rookie.”

It’s the first time he’s called her that in a long time, and it makes her throat constrict even more. The nickname, over time, had turned from something simple to something heavy. Something loaded with feelings that he’d once deemed impossible and forbidden.

And the use of it now, in a moment where Gen is half certain he’ll run, makes her want to run.

“Really? Cause…” She looks down at their still joined hands, watching his thumb glide across her skin, as she finds the words to continue on.

“I feel like you wouldn’t want to be with someone who stayed with the guy who mentally and verbally and emotionally abused her for an entire fucking year because she was stupid and naïve and thought if she just showed him more love and listened more that he’d change. And then only broke up with him after he laughed in her fucking face when she finally told him that she loved him and then found out that he didn’t love her back and only stuck around because she was an easy lay and reminded her that she’s trash and unworthy of real love and that she’s a fucking moron for thinking true love was real.”

She’s a mess by the time she’s done. Tears and mascara running down her cheeks, hands trembling and breath lost. Standing up from the couch with lightening speed, moving to stand by the large windows. Desperate for the glass to shatter and break her too.

It’s been almost a decade since that man had broken her and yet, every time she thinks of her, or speaks of the calamitous affair, she’s catapulted back. The pain as fresh as it was on that very last night.

“I’m sorry, what? He… Genevieve.” Ethan stands, crossing the room to be beside her once more. Horror and shock plastered across his handsome face.

“Surprise. I am used and abused garbage.” She offers a disingenuous smile, as more tears spill from her eyes.

“Don’t say that. Don’t even joke.” He gathers her in his arms, one arm tight across her waist as his other hand moves to cradle the back of her head. “Gen, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“That he did that to you. That he said those deplorable things. That you had to endure that.”

“I did it to myself.” She finally gives into the need to cling to him, her small arms wrapping around his waist. “I stayed with him, even when everyone around me was throwing red flags in my face.”

“You did not do it to yourself.” Ethan presses a kiss into her hair, holding her tighter. “G, you didn’t deserve that, regardless of if you stayed or not. His actions are inexcusable and not your fault in the slightest.”

“Yeah.” She chokes on a sob as she nods, closing her eyes as tightly as she can.

“Where is this sorry excuse of a man now?”

“California, but no matter what I do, how many times I block him on social media, he always finds me. Cause he thinks I belong to him, because no one else will ever want me.”

“Well, that’s a lie. I want you, I always have.” Ethan pulls back, just enough for their eyes to meet. “When was the last time he found you?”

“Today, I think. I don’t know of it was actually him, but I think I saw him when I stopped for coffee on the way in this morning. His friend works at Harvard so it’s not impossible that he’d be here and I swear I head his voice at the counter.”

His eyes search her face, putting all the pieces together. He’s always been able to read her like a book. Figuring out every detail like a case he needed to solve. It was a comfort she didn’t know she needed, and now one she doesn’t ever want to live without.

“That’s why you were so distant today, right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to be as far away from here as possible. But then I remembered our rule and I realized that,” Gen brings her hands to his face, his stubbled cheeks scratching her palms. “If there was anywhere in the world that I felt safest, it was here with you.”

“And that’s why you’re telling me now?”

“Yes and also to make sure I really was safe. That I could tell you and you wouldn’t leave like you always promise.”

“I’d never.” Ethan’s expression softens, his own hands moving to mimic her own. “You are safe with me, Gen. Always have been, always will be.”

“I know.” She whispers in the space between them, eyes watery again. But this time from relief instead of pain. “I know we always, well we usually end the night in bed, but after dinner can we just… can you just hold me tonight instead?”

“Of course. I’d like that.”

“Cool.” Genevieve sighs, melting against him. The solace in her heart unlike anything she’s felt before.

No one has ever known her this well, she’s never trusted someone - other than her sister - with this secret before. But telling Ethan, and finally giving all of herself to him felt better than she could have imaged.

“Will you make me a promise?” Ethan pulls away, separating them just enough for him to look down at her tearstained face.

“Yeah.”

“The next time he tries to contact you, or you think you’ve seen him, come find me. Don’t carry what you were feeling today alone. Let me be her for you. Let me protect you.”

“I can do that.”

He smiles at her again, leaning back into her space. His lips on hers in a kiss that could make her cry.

One that proves Ryan wrong. Because no one would kiss her like this, hold her like this, if they didn’t truly love her.

Even if they hadn’t said it yet.

To Ethan she was perfect, exactly the way she is and now there wasn’t anything he didn’t know about her.

A/N: If you want to read when Ethan meets Ryan in person for the first time you can do it here.

Next Chapter is on her other high school boyfriend, Jackson.

Details on her exes can be found here and here

(tagging separately)

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan x gen #LSS series

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spreadyourwingsc · 1 year

Text

Sy and Soirse. Chapter 8.

Summary: Sy and Soirse figure their way through their relationship, before, during and after Sy is deployed.

Disclaimer: This is the first story I have ever written and published. Capt Syverson is not my own. Soirse is, I don’t intend to offend anyone nor anyones culture with my story, if you feel that this content belongs to you or anyone else, please let me know and I will delete it.

TW: This story contains: violence, attempted SA, strong language and mature scenes, please proceed cautiously, you’d been advised. If there’s something I missed, please let me know

AN: I’m open to any suggestion and advices, I don’t know where the story is going yet, but if you want to help me write it, or better it!, please let me know!

Chapter 8

6 years later.

If one would told her that she would be back to that same old town that basically ruined her life, Saoirse would tell them they were crazy, but after of years of job searching in New York she just couldn't see her in there anymore, she got reconnected with her older brothers, and met some of her nephews, her mother was thrilled that her kids were together again, so it came to a surprise when she told them she would be relocating back.

Her parents were ecstatic to say the least! She graduated last year with a major in literature, concentration in teaching. For some reason she wanted to teach children how to process their feelings and emotions through writing and reading.

So when her mom told her that Smallertown was growing more popular and actually growing, they've decided to build the school there, and were looking for elementary school teachers, she jumped at the opportunity.

She didn't really know what made her make that decision, she was just kind of lost in her life at the moment, and it was the only option that seemed available at the moment.

“So do you guys think the author was in a great deal of pain because of how they described the ladybug?” she asked after one of her students' expositions to which they’ve answered yes.

“One thing is for certain, in literature, we can always interpret what the author is trying to say, but when it’s not literal, it's just assuming, a lot of people are not very explicit in their words, that’s why the use metaphors, so it’s not visibly explained but it is still there”, she was so passionate in her explaining, she took time to notice the figure standing by her classroom door.

She gasped, Sy was standing there, still dressed in fatigues, with his duffel bag hanging from his shoulder, and a bouquet of flowers in his hands, they locked eyes for a bit, but the moment was lost when the bell rang, indicating the end of the school day.

Without another word , Saoirse turned around, erasing her writings from the board and picking up her papers on her desk with shaky hands,

“Hey” he said entering the room after the last kid was gone, but she ignored him. Too stunned to speak.

She rushed her way out to the school parking lot, walking past him, he was flabbergasted, he knew he was in no place to blame her but at the same time he didn't think it would be that painful.

He tried to go after her but she was too fast, she got in her car and left him there just staring at her.

“Welcome back private Syverson” The Principal caught him by the school entrance, oblivious to what just had happened.

She went to her parents home straight from the school, when her mom saw the state her daughter was in, she held her and comforted her just like when she was little, it broke her heart to see her like this. but at the same time she couldn't help to feel a little bit of hope , everybody thought Sy was dead, or at least MIA so for him to show up like that unexpected was a shock to everybody, including both their parents.

She went home after crying to her mother all afternoon, deciding on a glass of wine and a warm bath, she was lost in her thoughts.

When the water finally got cold, she got out and decided she would go to bed, it's not like she was antisocial, or did not have any friends, but on this particular day, after seeing him, she didn't have much energy to do anything else.

6 years have gone by without hearing from Logan, she understood that the military had certain rules! but he could've written!!, She knew it might take a while but after the first five letters she sent had gone unanswered she understood that he was purposely ignoring her. which hurt, it did hurt a lot because never in her life she thought that after everything they’ve been through, he would up and disappear on her.

She knew the military changed people, but she oh so hoped that it wouldn't change him. not her Sy.

But her Sy was already gone when it went three months without hearing from him, then six, then it was a whole year, it was the next year when his mother let her know that his commanding officer sent them a letter saying that he was alive and doing fine. but other than that. gone.

The next few days were far calm, she was trying to avoid him at all cost, because, what else was she supposed to do, it's not like they could pick up where they left off.

Sy on the other hand was a mess, he knew he was on the wrong, he wanted to reach out to you, and to his family, but he was training to be a killer machine, turns out his swap from jail to military was only for him to become a lethal weapon. stripped from all feelings and pain, gone to the most tortuous training just so he could be able to go in the most extreme live threatening missions, and come back unescathered.

Sometimes he even wished something went bad and he ended up dead, but there was always that slight hope that he'd come back to you, that's the only thing that kept him going.

“My boy” His mother approached him and moved his head so she could sit on the couch with his head on her lap, tears welled up on her eyes as she remembered the once little boy who used to lay like this with her, he might be a grown ass man now, but in her eyes she would always see him as her little boy.

“Mama, I’m so sorry” he cried to her, hugging her legs to him.

“Shh, its okay, my dear, but I am not the one you should be apologizing to”, she coed

“She hates me, mama, and i- i couldn't make it up to her, I- they took away all my communication mama, they used me, all i would do is train, eat, sleep and then in Iraq-”

“Logan, honey,” her heart was breaking by listening to everything they put her boy through. “The most important thing is that, you’re here now, you’ve changed, she’s changed, i might be biased, but there’s a reason why she also came back”.

“What do you mean came back, mama?” he sat up all of the sudden, all attention to his mother.

“She went to college to New York, we thought she was never going to come back after-” she stopped “I really shouldn't be telling you this, baby, it’s not my place”

“Ma I-”

“You know what you have to do”. his mother nudged him

Thanks for reading!

#captain syverson

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mountphoenixrp · 1 year

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We have a returning citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Dakota Kim, a 26 year old son of Centeotl. He is the owner of Honeypot.

FC NAME/GROUP: Cho Seungyoun, a.k.a WOODZ, soloist CHARACTER NAME: Dakota Valeria Ruiz Kim AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 26yrs. Young, 30th December, 1995 PLACE OF BIRTH: Los Angeles, California OCCUPATION: Owner of Honeypot Brewery & Tapas HEIGHT: 182.88 cm/ 6’0 WEIGHT: 68kg/150 lbs DEFINING FEATURES: Interior palm of left hand marked with tally marks totally to five, several ear piercings, left side labret on the lower lip, tongue piercing, frenum piercing, and a healthy littering of tattoos (including one on inside of bottom lip)

PERSONALITY: At one point of his younger years people would consider Dakota as vibrant, giving and altogether a fun individual to be around. He had a knack for easing people through their worries with food, good conversation, and careful attention to their needs and was nearly always involved in the community in some way. Dakota’s life in Mount Phoenix was colorful and despite an internal struggle with the monster that is depression, he seemed happy.

Tradegy loves it’s ruin though and it wrapped cruel arms around the youth’s life with a jilted marriage proposal, a new flame, a deeper depression and then drama when old and new flame met. The result left the youth shell shocked and more quiet before his departure from the island. Now, over a year later, he returns and we see how the demigod has changed into a man.

HISTORY: For some people the streets of L. A are a dream- busy with the wanderings of foreigners and locals, rich and poor alike. For others, they are the hub of business, and for others still, they are a home in themselves. For ‘Ornah’ they are all of that and so much more. They are the roads that lead to bigger and better spaces, the winding connections and traffic jams of relationships of all kinds. They are his business and his business is making his way through them day and night either in his casual garb or the excess of the fancy clothes that he gets to keep from random generous photographers when he does a shoot or two. They’re the home that he can rely on when the one he was left in fell apart and he walks them with the greatest pride that a true Californian does.

It’s on these streets that Ornah makes his living by selling odds and ends. He’s got no shame in his position, frequently bouncing from place to place but remaining in the city and neighborhoods that make him feel like family. As he grows and the world becomes a bit more clued into things that coexist alongside humans, rumors of safe havens spread. Dakota doesn’t pay them much mind at first rolling it off his shoulders. But as more and more gods and demigods start to crop up from around the world he starts to pay attention. So there were others like him- others that might know what it’s like to not entirely understand how things “just happen”. Soon enough he meets, befriends and even takes jobs with gods and demigods like himself.

Why not go away to one of those safe havens? The idea gets more and more interesting as each day rolls by, but it takes an incident with a certain god to make the haughty young demigod finally decide to go to one he heard most mentioned. Mount Phoenix, or as they called in the streets, La isla de los dioses.

If there was anywhere that the god Kota was looking for it would be there. And he had more than a few bones to pick on arrival.

Years Later

The letter is crushed to his chest and it does nothing but seem to amplify the drumming of his heart. He had thought he had left everything behind, let the dust of time slowly settle over memories until he’s not even sure they are real anymore of that place. Dakota had slipped beyond the veil that separates the mortal space and Mount Phoenix and thought he had molded into a happy life. Yet, when he lay awake at night, he can feel it. That something is right. Some part of him isn’t fulfilled and is left to wonder, what if?

Now all those questions that keep his tongue like lead in his mouth and the smile from fully reaching his eyes stand a chance to be answered. The edges of the letter he cradles to him cut into his skin and remind him that this moment is real. He could run. He could learn what’s been itching at the back of his mind for years.

He could run…… and so …. He does. Right back to Mount Phoenix because for once, he has cause to look back.

PANTHEON: Mayan CHILD OF: Centotl - God of Maize POWERS:

*The gift of the harvest; he can grow corn from any soil, naturally talented chef; can learn to craft any dish in a matter of minutes and is able to create dishes using minimal ingredients,

*Gift of Dance; as customary for the harvest of the corn there is a celebratory and ritual dance, the moves have altered with the times but the intensity of the dance causes the harvest to spring forth greater, and much more filling.

STRENGTHS:

*Quick-witted

* Generous (esp. To the hungry)

* Brave

* Severely and unapologetically opinionated, especially about the respect that women deserve.

* Polyglot

WEAKNESSES:

*Swears so much it could make a sailor blush

* Quick-tempered when confronted & holds grudges

* Blunt to a fault.

* Very good liar (says “I’m fine.” more than he should when he’s not)

*Smoker with expensive taste in tobacco.

#kpop rp #krp #ksoloist #choi seungyoun #woodz #mp; welcome

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hekate1308 · 5 months

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There Are Berries This Year On The Holly, A Drowley Advent Calendar December 2

Masterpost

Read it on AO3

It would have been one thing for Winchester to try and ruin his good looks by donning what could best be described as an insult to everyone’s eyesight – he’d just waved at Crowley, so he could simply turn around and get back into his house – but in that, he turned out to be mistaken.

“Hey” Dean walked up to him with another one of those devastating smiles. “How’s it going?”

Crowley had never been one for neighbourhood gossip, and had made that quite clear soon after moving in, so that he was rather used to everyone leaving him alone. The fact that Winchester apparently wanted to talk therefore took him by surprise. “I’m well, thank you. You yourself?”

“Oh, I’m great” he chuckled. “As usual when I get to put up the decorations… you haven’t started yet?”

“I don’t put up decorations.”

“Ah, sorry man, I tend to forget that not everyone celebrates… no offense.”

“None taken” he said to his own surprise, even through this was one of the things that would normally have irritated him. It must be those green eyes, or that smile, or the way his freckles…

You’re over fifty years old. Get a hold of yourself.

“Well, I have fun” he shrugged, “Even if some of the gang seem to think I’m going overboard. Not all, of course – Charlie would probably put up even more than I, and Benny usually goes along with Andrea, and she’s a fan…”

He really wondered why Winchester was telling him all of this, although the real question was why he was still listening. Normally, he would have extradited himself from the conversation already.

“Mind, Sammy usually gives me the spiel about how we are adults and that this is really not necessary and that I’m just blowing up my electricity bill, but I know he loves it. After all, I was the one decorating our room when we were kids.”

So Sammy must be a sibling. He filed the information away, although he wouldn’t have been able to say why.

“What about you? Do you have any family dropping by for the holidays?”

Those were some intrusive questions he had, and ones that most definitely were not – “No. My mother and I are not close.”

“Oh”. His face fell. “Sorry, man. That can’t be easy, this time of the year.”

It wasn’t easy during any other time of the year but he didn’t mention it.

“Tell you what, whenever you feel lonely, you can just knock on my door. No point wasting time being sad.”

That was not something Crowley had expected to hear today, or ever. Not that he was lonely – he had never been lonely. As a matter of fact, he had always vastly preferred his own company to that of others, except for a certain amount of time, but again, that was out of the question because Dean lived next door…

He did know how he was supposed to react, however, and so he said, “Thank you.”

Dean winked at him. “See you around.”

And he returned to his house, as devastatingly attractive as before, ugly sweater or not.

---------------------------------------------------------

Over the next day or two, Crowley had to reluctantly admit that he was thinking a great deal more about Dean Winchester than he ought to have. He shouldn’t have been thinking about him, period – he was the new neighbour, and that was all there was to it. Yes, he had come to talk to him, but… As he had proven by that very talk, he was what was usually referred to as a people person and had probably been feeling bored.

And anyway, what was Crowley supposed to do? Just walk up to his house and ring the doorbell? Winchester had seemed to imply as much, but that was not something that he would ever do.

Still, he found himself observing the property next door closely when he could have been doing so much more useful things.

He quickly learned that Dean must have a nine-to-five job, or at least something close to it, for he left his house most days around the same time, although now and then he stayed at home, implying the possibility that he could work remotely sometimes. He also appeared to simply go for drives in that stunning car of his from time to time, which was rather to be expected; after all, one didn’t keep such a car just to have it standing around…

And then there were the visitors. Crowley had decided they must be the “gang “Dean had spoken about – almost every evening, one or two would drop by, whether unannounced or not, he had no way of saying. The very tall man with the long hair came by the most often, so he was probably this Sam Winchester had talked about…

Not, he reminded himself once again, that it mattered.

#my writings #spn #drowley #dean winchester #crowley #advent calendar

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railingsofsorrow · 2 years

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╚═══════ criminal minds

masterlist ═══════╝

+ KEY: [ angst - A ; fluff - F ; trigger warning - TW! ; allusions to s3x - ¢ ; happy ending - ♡ ; not happy ending - ☂, not posted yet -✍ ; requested - ♟]

( fyi: "old!" means it's an old work and my writing has improved since then. )

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☆ ○ o。 ☆ 。 ○ o

‣ SPENCER REID

DRABBLES

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drabble #1 drabble #2 drabble #3 drabble #4 drabble #5 drabble #6 drabble #7 drabble #8 drabble #9 drabble #10 drabble #11

BLURBS

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sleep talking │based on the prompt “do you love cats more than me?” F (old!)

love is a two-way street │based on the prompt “you're there for me. and, I'm there for you.” (old!) A,TW!,F,♡ dissociation │based on the prompt “have you ever looked in the mirror and not recognize what you were seeing?” A,TW!,♡ (old!)

extraordinary │the one where there's a wedding, two terrible dancers, and two fools head over heels in love on the dance floor. F, ♡ (old!)

love language │in which there were three things about him that made her fall in love. F, A , ♡ (old!) ⟿ wonderland of you │in which there three things that made him realised he was head over heels for her. ﹃ sequel to love language but it can be read as a standalone. F, A , ♡ (old!) new words │baby reid is excited to learn new words. F, ♡ (old!) falling asleep on you │spencer and reader are oblivious sleepy babies. F, ♡

(not so) stupid things │meet cute F, ♡, A (if you squint)

open the door | spencer visits you after three days of radio silence. and he will stand by your door until you open it. A, ♡, TW!

✍ different ways of saying I love you │in which there are many ways that someone can say I love you, but he doesn't notice any of them. A, F, ♡

do you need me? │ based on the prompt "don't come over, I can handle it." A, F, ♡

what if I read to you? | “You're not a very good liar, sweetheart.” “I'm fine.” A, F, ♡ don't walk out | “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” A, F, ♡

we'll be alright | you have something to tell your boyfriend but you don't know how. A, F, ♡

✍ what's wrong? │the one where you need some grounding after a hard day. A, F, ♡

✍ untitled | when you're drunk, your ability to hold your tongue is compromised. F, ♡

ONE-SHOTS

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late arrivals and alpacas sweaters │reader and spencer have an argument and give each other the silent treatment. until a certain elevator ride. A,F, ♡ (old!) two minutes │it takes less than two minutes to lose someone you love, specially when they are the ones putting themselves in danger. A,♡ (old!) ruptures of a high end │based on the prompt “if tomorrow didn't come, what would you do today?” A, ☂ ⟿ a mending fate │reader avoids spencer like the plague and he just can't take it anymore. A, ♡ ﹃ sequel to ruptures of a high end. we sort of complete each other │reader has an anxiety attack and spencer helps her through it. A, F, TW!, ♡ still friends │why did spencer agree to that stupid break-up? A, ☂

⟿ dance with me | who would have thought that a glass of water could make you sway in your feet in more ways than one? ﹃ part of the “still friends” short series. can be read as a standalone. A, open ending

recharging. . . │all spencer needs is his little family to feel better. A, F, TW!, ♡

late night talking | your body language was too familiar for him to erase. and he wouldn't be able to do it if he tried. based on the prompts “have you ever been scared of the future?” “multiple times.” “what made you move on?” “I haven't.” ﹃ part of “the harry styles anthology” A, F, TW!, open ending!

“you're mad.” | in which a phone call ruined your day... or not. A, TW!,♡

✍ one call away | your healing told through phone calls. or... in which you take a leave from work for indefinite time to pull yourself together and your best friend is always just one call away. A, F, ♡, TW!

5 hours apart | “I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.” “I don't want you to miss me. It's tearing me apart.” F, A, ♡

MULTICHAPTER FICS

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Ⅰ. mess is mine │garcia meets her soulmate; spencer is In Love ™; reader's emotions are all over the place and emily prentiss knows everything. F, A, ¢ Ⅱ. riptide │reader can't stop ignoring the elephant in the room; spencer is too oblivious and penelope garcia is just doing her magic. A, ¢, ☂ ﹃ sequel to mess is mine. A, ¢, ☂ Ⅲ. winds of change │they make a decision. F, A, TW!,♡ ﹃ sequel to riptide. F, A, TW!,♡ countdown │the team is on countdown to find you, but it feels like you're out of their radar. A, TW!, ♡ Ⅰ. purple scarf │your secret relationship is not so secret anymore. F, ♡, ¢ , ♟ Ⅱ. green-eyed monster │ in which you can't stand a new agent and spencer is too oblivious. F, ♡, ¢ , ♟ ﹃ sequel to purple scarf Ⅰ. film festival │“I'm going to a Korean film festival in Georgetown.” F, ♡ Ⅱ. new traditions │F, ♡ , ♟ ﹃ sequel to “film festival”

SERIES

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✍ NUMINOUS: Darkness had a flattering way of luring people. In a dance, she is the one who leads. Holding you close to giving you a lustful kiss. Delilah has always found comfort in the night. The absence of light wasn't necessarily horrible, it brought her comfort. However, the moment her dark eyes meet honey brown ones, she figures sunny days might not be so bad, after all. [s.r × o.c] A,F,TW!

SUN-BLEACHED PAPER PETALS: When Iris Valencia sent a letter to a certain Doctor Reid about one of his articles, she didn't expect to receive an answer. At all. But she did get one. And they've been corresponding back and forth ever since — in the old-fashioned way. Until a threatening situation forces them to meet face to face. [s.r × o.c] A,F,TW!

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‣ JENNIFER JAREAU

BLURBS

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heavenly agreements │ the team decides to go out to have fun and things escalate between two agents. F, ♡ , ¢ lover │based on the prompt “we've known each other for so long. I can't imagine my life without you anymore.” A, F, ♡

ONE-SHOTS

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somewhere underlined │slightly emily x reader, based on the prompt “i think I'm in love with her.” A, F, ♡

✍ untitled | in which reader watches her coworkers fall in love and maybe acts like a cupid along the way. (jemily)

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‣ EMILY PRENTISS

DRABBLES

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drabble #1

drabble #2

drabble #3 ✍

BLURBS

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i can see it | you and your girlfriend make plans about the future. F, ♡

✍ untitled | in which a police officer makes an inappropriate comment about you and emily just about loses her cool over it. A, F, ♡

✍ untitled | “character A shutting up character B with a kiss.” A, F, ♡

✍ untitled | you receive a surprise visitor on quantico while you're on a boring paperwork day. F, ♡

ONE-SHOTS

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right where you left me │how do you stop mourning someone that came back to life? A, ☂ ﹃ part of “the taylor swift anthology” dreadful hearts │emily risks her life (again) and some of your fears come to surface. A, F, ♡

✍ untitled | in which reader watches her coworkers fall in love and maybe acts like a cupid along the way. (jemily)

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣ DEREK MORGAN

BLURBS

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[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

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skeletons in the closet│a copycat killer is out in the city and the BAU needs your help to uncover the case. you just have one condition: to see derek morgan A, ♟, TW!, bittersweet ending.

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‣ PENELOPE GARCIA

BLURBS

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[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[still to come]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣ AARON HOTCHNER

BLURBS

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[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[still to come]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣ THE TEAM

BLURBS

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[still to come]

ONE-SHOTS

happier than ever │the bau is required on alaska for a case and reader has to confront some ghosts from her past. A,TW!,♡ (platonic) ⟿ six feet under │F, slight A ﹃ sequel to happier than ever (platonic)

support system │ inspired by that one hotch and emily's scene: “I want you to make a deal with me. you're gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine. then, you're gonna have a bad day. just let me know when you do.” A, TW!,♡ (platonic)

colorless mountains │during a case in New York, you come in contact with an unsub whose backstory hits too close to home. A, TW! ♡, ♟ (platonic)

✍ untitled | in which reader watches her coworkers fall in love and maybe acts like a cupid along the way. (jemily)

SERIES

✍ NUMINOUS: Darkness had a flattering way of luring people. In a dance, she is the one who leads. Holding you close to give you a lustful kiss. Delilah has always found comfort in the night. The absence of light wasn't necessary horrible, it brought her comfort. However, the moment her dark eyes meet honey brown ones, she figures sunny days might not be so bad, after all. [s.r × o.c] A,F,TW!

▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ - █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂

#masterpost #railingsofsorrow #criminal minds masterlist

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