#hope your Monday is lovely 💖💖

[themissingmango]

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

Spangle-cheeked Tanager

javier.chaves.photography

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One and Only

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You meet your biggest fan.

Based on response: She’s famous & he’s a stalker fan? 1940s au?

Characters: Bucky Barnes

This is #1 of the Valentines Roulette stories

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I’m sending the script this afternoon, honey,” Gerald promises through the speaker. You hold the receive to your ear and suppress a sigh. It’s a blessing that he can’t see your expression. ‘Honey.’  

“Sure thing, Ger,” you reply as you try to peer through the foggy glass pane. What a miserable February. 

“Screen tests start Monday,” he intones, as if you’ve not done this before. What number is this? You signed a contract for ten pictures, this is number seven of the lot. You cannot wait to shop around for a new studio. 

“Yes, Ger,” you answer dully. “See ya then.” 

“Three o’clock. There about,” he girds. 

“I’ll be around. Monday, then, Ger.” 

“Monday, honey.” 

You hang up. You arch your brow as your lips move with the retort you’re under terms and conditions not to say. ‘If you want honey, Gerald, go find a hive.’ You sigh to your content and adjust your rob beneath the satin belt cinched around your waist. 

There’s a knock at the door. You look at the clock in its ivory frame. It must be the mailman. You answer and accept his bundle. Some from those who watch your pictures and a letter from your sister. You shuffle through them and leave them scattered over the kitchen table. 

You pace. You’d hoped to have that script early. You might not be very happy with the films they’ve put you on but learning lines at least keeps your mind busy.  

As you sweep through the entryway, your satin robe catches the air and sends a breeze around the space. There’s a scuff along the hardwood that snags on the tassled corner of the rug. You must’ve dropped it when you took the handful from the mailman. 

You bend to pluck up the scrap of paper, folded in a tight square. When you untuck the corner, it forms a sort of accordion. You carefully unfold it, careful not to tear it. You reveal its sparse contents. 

The crosshatch of an inky nib has formed an image. One you vaguely recognise as yourself. The war feels like ages ago though it only just ended. It’s back to business as usual. No more tours through Europe, no more riding in cargo bays with the prettied up dances. Everything is all so dull these days. 

In the hastily scratched portrait, your hair is painfully twisted into victory rolls and the military cap pinned at just the right angle. You remember the soldiers, the worn gray palour and dark circles, the tatters in their uniforms as the complained for drawing lines up their legs to mimic the nylon these men needed to jump out of planes. 

You examine the torn edge and a few blots of ink and some other dark hue. There’s a scrawl in the corner. Loopy writing; ‘Happy Valentines. Only you on my mind. JBB’. Those messages are not unexpected. You are thankful for your admirers if not at time, perturbed by their assumptions of familiarity. Yet, you’ve chose the studio lights and camera lenses. It comes with the territory. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It’s three o’clock. Bucky’s watch is set, tightly strapped to his right wrist. Out of habit, he looks to the left and finds nothing. His shoulder is itchy where his muscles should tug but there’s nothing there. Just a pinned sleeve and frustration. 

He clears his throat and keeps the thick bound folder under his arm. The boy gave him no trouble, asked no questions. I’m the porter, kid, I’ll see it to her. No need to go bothering the lady. 

He marches down the winding stone walk. His car is near the sprawl of pine. He misses his motorcycle but he can’t figure how to steer it with one hand. Even the steering wheel gives him a bit of trouble. 

He presses his arm tighter to the script as he approaches the stoop. There’s a round stone platform before the door that forms steps up to the entrance. Moulds of ancient Greek statues stand in small alcoves beneath the lights on either side of the door frame.  

He stops before the door and bends his head as he tries to fix his hair. He shaved for this. It’s been a while. He spent long with the scissors, clipping through the shanks than he did with the razor. That’s another thing that’s harder. He struggled to get just the right angle around the left side of his jaw. There’s a nick there. 

He straightens up and stares at the arched door. He needs to knock. He has to step close and batters his knuckles on the wood. He backs up and looks down. He hasn’t worn a suit since he came home. They made him do it as they shouted ‘victory’ in the streets. 

He waits. No answer. He looks around. She has a bell. He shifts around then uses his nose to press it. Damn arm. 

He fixes his posture and smiles, then quickly wipes it away. You don’t want to look strange. No, not like some of the men they took off the lines. They got that glassy look. Some of them couldn’t do anything but laugh or cry. 

Her shadow darkens under the door before she opens it. She’s surprised by him. She bats her long lashes. They are naked, like the rest of her face. He’s just as stunned to see her in her natural form. No cosmetics, all her. She’s even more gorgeous. 

“Oh, I was expecting Stuart,” she greets him. “Pardon,” she tries to fix her hair. She wears a satin robe and slippers with feathers. “You have it?” 

She gestures to the script. He looks down at it and slides it down to his hands. He examines the cover. 

“Uh, yes, ma’am, miss,” he forgets everything he meant to say. All those lines he rehearsed in the dark theatre. The script he wrote when he lay restless in his bed. 

“Thank you, sir,” she reaches for it. He hesitates to hand it over. 

“I saw you. In the Hague,” he says as she latches onto the spine. He doesn’t let go. 

She looks at him. She has a serene look on her face, even as her eyes wander down to his pinned sleeve. She almost seems to brighten. 

“With the company?” She asks. “You saw me on stage?” 

“You’re real funny, miss,” he bounces on his heels. “Charming.” 

“Well, it’s the least I could do for your men. You gave so much,” she keeps a hold of the script. 

He looks at his left shoulder then at her. 

“Some things were taken,” he grumbles. 

She blanches, “pardon me, sir, I didn’t mean--” 

“I just wanted to say,” he overrides her apology. She doesn’t need to be sorry. “When I was in the medic’s tent, all those weeks, it was you. You got me through. I saw ya in the magazines. They were old, you know? Don’t get them hot off the press in the field.” 

“Sure,” she utters, he feels the tension in the folder as she tries to wiggle it away. “What’s your name, sir?” 

“James,” he answers. “James Buchanan Barnes.” 

She smiles, “that’s a lovely name. I do appreciate you coming to give me this. And for everything else.” 

He lets go of the folder. He expected more. She might invite him in for a drink. He did lose a fucking arm so the ladies could keep their precious slippers and robes. And he came all the way down her to give her that lump of papers. 

“You have a good day, sir,” she slowly inches the door forward. 

Where are her goddamn manners? 

He slaps his hand against the door and she squeaks in fright. He keeps her from closing it in his face. He cleaned himself up nice for her, he sent her a letter. He’s sent her at least a hundred. He signed them all JBB. She knows him. 

So why is she trying to shut him out? 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You stumble back as the man shoves the door out of your grasp. You gasp and the grip the script with both hands, like a shield. He steps inside calmly. 

“James,” you say his name, “what are you doing?” 

“The least you can do is ask me in, doll,” he snarls. The sudden shift in his demeanour fills you with dread. 

“No, James, I did not. You need to leave--” 

He swings the door shut and marches toward you. You raise the script and bring it forward, aiming it at him in a desperate attempt to fend him off. He knocks it away easily. He's strong. Still a soldier even in street clothes. 

“James,” you hold your palms up helplessly, “please, forgive me if I’ve--” 

“Shhhh,” he reaches between your hands and grabs you by the jaw. “I just... I want to... did you get my letters?” 

“Letters?” You gulp, writhing in his hold as you gently touch his forearm. “Well, James, I get many letters--” 

“I write to you every day,” he hisses. “It’s me. JBB.” 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Stop saying my name,” he sneers. 

You shut your mouth, your lip poking out as it trembles. You stare at him, petting his sleeve, hoping you can calm him. The war changed a lot of men. It stole a lot of them too. 

“I just... I love you, doll. You got me through. You kept me breathing,” he growls as he walks her backward. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.” 

You whimper, “why don’t you let me go and I’ll pour you a drink?” 

He stops and his brows pinch together. He looks to his left, where your liquor cabinet stands in the dining room. Where your phone is... 

“No,” his eyes flick back to you. “No, I don’t drink.” 

He pushes you until your heels meet the bottom stair. Your right slipper falls off and he tips you over the incline. You fall beneath him as he follows you down. You push on his chest and wriggle. 

He straddles you beneath him as he looks you up and down. His knees are on the step by your hips, his heels two down. You brace the sharp edge and whine. 

“James...” 

He hushes you as his thumb rubs beneath your cheekbone. He stares at your body, his chest rising and falling heavily. You push yourself down into the stairs. 

“Open your robe,” he demands. 

Your lip quivers violently as you bat back tears. You do as he says. You unknot the belt and slowly draw it open. You tug the satin apart and reveal your silky nightgown. The fabric cling to you like water. 

He shudders as his jaw squares. He bites his lip and shifts over you. He leans in slowly and your eyes meet as he gets closer. They are blue and deep like the ocean. You shiver as his nose touches yours. 

He exhales and brushes his lips against yours. 

“Show me the bedroom,” he growls.  

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He lets her up cautiously. She steadies her feet and turns up the staircase. She limps up, click, clap, click, clap. He bends to pick up her slipper and follows. 

As she reaches the top, he stops her with her name. She pauses. He gets down and she doesn’t react until he shows her slipper. She puts her foot through. He stands and points her onward. 

He couldn’t climb to see through the bedroom window. He only ever saw the first floor. She hugs herself as her robe flutters around her figure. She opens the door at the end of the hall. She steps back to let him through and he tuts. 

He makes her go in first. She enters and sweeps around, far from him. He elbows the door shut. She cowers by the wall as he strides around.  

There’s a phone beside the bed. He grabs it and yanks it free of the cord. Her slippers suddenly click in a flurry. He drops the phone and catches her at the door. He crushes her against it so it snaps back into the frame. 

“Doll, don’t be doin’ all that,” he warns as he pinches her neck and urges her away from the door. She whimpers and he turns her to face the bed, “robe off.” 

He lets her go. She pulls away and drags his hands down her neck. She shyly pushes the robe from her shoulders and peels it off her body. The silk nightgown swathes her perfectly. Her shape is so full and soft. 

She drapes the robe over the bedpost and shies away. He clucks and snaps his fingers. 

“Doll,” he looks down at himself. He has the whole getup. Jacket, vest, tie, shirt. All for her. “Need your help.” 

She faces him. Her eyes glimmer like gems. She watches his hand smooth down his jacket and he unbuttons it. 

She nears him. She smells like vanilla. She brings her hands up. They shake. She must be excited. How could she not be? Finally, they’re together. 

He grabs his lapels and guides the jacket back. She’s tender with the folded sleeve and tickles his hemmed shirt beneath. She carries the jacket to the seat by her vanity and returns to him. He can see her pulse in her throat, it’s going just as fast as his. 

She unbuttons his vest and slips it off him. Her touch is soothing. Then she undoes his tie, her fingers brushing his throat. She unveils him, piece by piece, as his stomach clenches and unclenches. 

She stalls as she gets to his trousers. Her fingers twiddle just before the button. 

“It’s your first time,” he drawls. “Dont’ gotta be shy, doll.” 

She looks at him and swallows. She nods stiffly then puts her eyes down. The unplucks the front of his pants. He can make it nice for her. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

First time... 

Nope. You won’t say you haven’t made mistakes. Still, you won’t chance angering this man. Not more than you already have. You can keep up the act if it pays off. Not in money this time, no, your life. 

You stand back as he’s naked before you. Your wipe your damp palms on your nightie. He hangs his head. You can’t help but stare at his scars. The tortured flesh around his shoulder that extends onto his chest. Looks like a burn. 

His eyes startle you. You meet them. He steps closer. 

“Your turn,” he growls. 

You look down and reach for the thin lace straps of the night gown. You slide them down and shimmy the silken sheath down your figure. Your chest peeks over and he inhales audibly. As you push the fabric past your hips, he groans. 

Your eyes wander up for an instant. He's hard, bobbing shamelessly as he nears. All at once, he herding you back against the bed. You fall over the foot and bounce on the mattress. 

He crushes you. He kisses your lips then your cheek, smearing saliva across your face with his frantic hunger. You close your eyes and go rigid as you let him do what he pleases. 

His voice escapes him like silt. He nuzzles and nips along your throat. He shifts onto his side and feels up and down your torso. He fondles your tits and his mouth trails his touch. He seals his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around and around. 

He hooks his leg around yours. He pulls your thighs apart and his hand traces down your stomach and pelvis. He slips his middle finger between your lips and strums at your clit. You tense and twitch as your nerves stir. 

Your breath hitches as he rubs firmly. You turn your head and bite your knuckle as a moan escapes you. You arch your back as the sparks turn to a flame. You shake through your orgasm as he drags you through it. 

He pushes another finger between your folds. He rubs up and down, smearing your juices around as he hum. He lifts his head and nuzzles your cheek. 

“Kiss me, doll.” 

You pull your hand away and press your lips to his. His tongue delves into your mouth as his fingers slide into your cunt. He growls and smothers you as he rocks your pelvis. The heel of his hand rests against your clit and your toes curl as you writhe. You bend your legs as he lights another fire in you. 

He tilts his hips, rubbing his cock on your leg as he humps you in time with his fingers. Your walls squeeze and tremour and your climax again. You whine into his mouth and he drinks it in. 

He drags his fingers free and wipes your pleasure on your thighs. He parts from your mouth and heaves himself onto his knees. He kneels between your legs and traces the curves of your body with his hand. 

“Doll, please, you put me in,” he orders. “Be careful, don’t wanna hurt you.” 

You reach down without hesitation. You want this over with. You just hope he leaves after. 

You grab his cock and angle it down against your cunt. You flinch as his tip brushes your clit and you push him further back. You line him up with your entrance and he shakes. He grunts as he tenses and inches into you. 

He grits his teeth and exhales through his nose as he impales you. You constrict around him. He’s big enough to make your walls ache. He leans over you, planting his hand next to your head, and thrusts until he’s buried to his limit. 

You slap your palm against his chest and puff out through your locked jaw. You quake around him as he pulls back. His eyes fall to the crux of your bodies as he watches himself push into you again. You dig your nails into his skin. 

He snarls and bends his arm, holding himself on his elbow. He covers your mouth with his once more and rolls his hips. You whine and nearly gag around his tongue. He pumps again and again. You press against his sides as you squeeze him between your thighs. 

The bed shakes as his rhythm picks up. You push on his stomach and thigh, begging him silently to be nicer. He doesn’t heed your pleas. You give in to the ravaging of your body as he ruts wildly. You hook your hand around his bicep and clamp down to keep from biting his tongue. 

Just a bit more and it will end. Almost there. Almost free... right? 

[poemcal]

helloo, I would like to make a request for Todd. where the reader is cheeky and flirts with him during breaks, but also leaves him small poems where she confesses her love. He feels the same way but she doesn't know it, and he confesses it to her one day when he hears her crying under a tree because she felt that he would never like her, and that she felt stupid trying to make him like her.

by the way, i love how you write and I fell in love the first time I saw Ethan Hawke in the movie😭😭💖

warning: none, too fluffy maybe!!

summary: how bad can it be having a crush on your classmate? Leaving poems in his desk, just as secretly as he is in love with you.

a/n: a long one, that's it, please clap for me A WHOLE THREE HOURS WRITING THIS 😭😭😭 hope you liked it!!! AND TY FOR YOU WORDS AND SAME I FELL FOR ETHAN IN THIS MOVIE TOO 😭😭🤍

✿ I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME? : TODD ANDERSON

Every day you wait for Todd and his group of friends during breaks, since you didn’t share any classes with him. At first, you were friends with Pitts, and then you became close with all of them, except Todd. One day after classes, you saw him sitting alone. He always seemed like a bundle of nerves, but you liked that about him. You snuck up on him until you were right by his side.

“Writing for English?” Your voice made him jump in his seat, and he looked at you, startled.

“Y-yeah. I mean, no,” he stammered at first, closing his notebook and glancing around as if searching for help.

“I heard the classes are very... strange?”

Todd looked at you, almost offended, and shook his head. “It’s more than that. It’s like a lifestyle.”

“Wow. I’d like to be there, then,” you said with a smile, sitting beside him and glancing at how his hands were clinging to his pants, holding onto his comfort zone.

“You should. Why aren’t you? Aren’t we in the same year?” he asked with an honest curiosity that made you smile. It seemed like he was interested in you, in a way.

You nodded. “We are, but I got assigned a different teacher. Old-fashioned and boring, but he reads us beautiful poems,” you admitted, and for the first time, Todd smiled—just at you.

“You read poetry?”

“Of course! Although we read a bit of everything, it’s always Shakespeare.”

“Mr. Keating prefers Whitman, I guess.”

Since that conversation, you would find yourself approaching Todd during every break, taking the opportunity to give him small hints about your feelings toward him, which only grew stronger. The others could notice what you were doing, but Todd? Todd always seemed to be too caught up in his thoughts, never really in the moment, but still, you liked him more.

"Todd!" You shouted from across the campus and ran in his direction. Todd blushed at feeling so many eyes on him, but still, he stopped and waited for you. "Thanks for coming over," you said, laughing, and stopped by his side, letting your lungs take in a bit of air.

"‘I-I’m sorry!’ He would say, embarrassed to feel so clumsy just watching you run.

"It’s okay" you said with a smile, stepping closer. "On Monday, I’ll have a presentation" you started shyly, and Todd looked at you, confused. ‘I’ll have to recite a poem.’

"Do you want help?’" he asked, with a voice as delicate as always.

"No! I mean, I would loved that, but I already have one, I just... I don’t know, I thought maybe you could come watch me.’

Todd paused for a few seconds, then snapped back to reality and nodded. "Of course. I don’t think I have anything to do. J-just tell me the time, and I’ll be there." He never looked you in the eyes for long. For a few seconds, his eyes would meet yours, then he would find something less invasive to focus on. But you liked it.

"At four. Library. If you go, you should bring me some roses."

"I-i should?" Todd nervously looked around. "I'll have to grab some from here, then."

You laughed. "Bring some pretty ones."

"Aren't all flowers pretty?"

You nodded. "You're right. I should be more specific. Bring ones that won't make me sneeze all day."

"You're allergic? Then why would you ask me to bring flowers?"

You shrugged. "Because they're pretty. The gesture will be sweet, too," you said, winking at him, making Todd blush slightly.

After that conversation, you began leaving little notes with poems written for Todd under his desk every day without fail. You would hide behind the door, watching his reaction from the hallway. His pink cheeks, sparkling eyes, a shy smile he failed to hide, and his hands hurriedly stuffing the notes into his pockets made you completely happy. You wondered if he kept them for himself and hid them somewhere special.

Weeks went by, and your moment to recite in the library finally came.

When it was your turn to step up, you held the paper in your trembling hands, and your eyes instinctively searched for that blonde hair, but failed. Todd hadn’t shown up. You sighed in disappointment and recited your poem. The room filled with applause and cheers, and people praised you all the way back to your seat. As you walked back to your dorm, you saw him. Todd Anderson was sitting on the grass with the other poets laughing, and suddenly, it all made sense. He didn’t like you.

Todd looked at you, his eyes wide open, but you simply turned away and headed toward the solace of your dorm.

The next days, the notes on his desk stopped appearing, taking with them Todd’s excitement to arrive early to class just to read them. From then on, you also avoided Todd at all costs, not wanting to see his face, wishing to forget him. But he remained etched in your mind and heart, as important as a commandment and as necessary as the air in your lungs.

But you never cried, instead, you were angry at yourself for your foolish efforts to win his affection, which ultimately amounted to nothing. That changed one afternoon when you were sitting under a tree, far from Welton. The wind played with your hair, and the orange sunlight on your face heightened your emotions, and you ended up crying.

Footsteps startled you, and as you looked up, there he was. Todd. His face, worried and exhausted as always, but this time, his eyes held an unusual brightness.

He knelt in front of you, his face full of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hesitant hands hovering in the air, unsure whether to touch you.

You nodded. "Yeah, go away, Todd."

"No, you're not," he murmured, watching as you swallowed your tears and avoided his gaze.

"I am. It's nothing, okay?"

"Come on, you can tell me," he whispered, something inside him knowing it was his fault, yet still gathering the courage when he saw you crying under that old tree.

"Todd, just—"

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, interrupting you. "I didn’t mean to miss your presentation. It’s just that—"

"You don’t have to make excuses, Todd. Really. You could’ve just said no," you murmured, letting out a tired sigh.

"No! I wanted to go. It's just... I wanted to find flowers for you, but I couldn’t. I asked the guys for help. At three! But time passed, and we failed. I’m sorry," he stammered, his hands fidgeting in a silent war with each other.

"Todd. It was sweet of you to try. But it's okay, I forgive you. That’s not why I’m like this, so don’t feel bad," you said, your voice as strained as Todd’s, which wasn’t usual for you.

"Then what is it? Y-you can trust me, I promise," he said, sitting in front of you, moving a few inches closer.

"It's silly," you said, playing with the long grass beneath your feet. "I'm... scared?" you confessed.

"Scared?"

"Yes, you know. That feeling you get when you think about the future or the past or the dark or—"

"I know! I mean, scared of what? I’m scared of many things... too many," he murmured, looking at you expectantly

"Of love," you admitted, embarrassed. "Not love itself, but the absence of love, you know?" Todd nodded eagerly. "I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever be loved or if I’ll have something with someone! And it's scary."

You felt so small next to Todd, filled with fear, shame, and shyness. Todd, on the other hand, felt with so much power, more power than what he liked. He knew he needed to encourage you, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth, making the moment worse.

"Don’t say that. You will be loved, you already are."

"By my mom, maybe," you said with a chuckle.

"No, I mean, yes! But I mean romantically."

"Do you believe in that idea that the love of my life is destined and wandering out there?" you whispered as if sharing a secret.

Todd nodded. "Y-yes. They could be very close to you. Closer than you think. Right in front of you... trying so hard to be noticed. Failing. Always," he finished with a whisper, his hands ceasing their internal fight and gripping each other for comfort.

"Todd, what are you talking about?" you asked breathlessly.

"I like you! I like you..." For the first time in your life, you heard him speak so loudly and clearly that it startled you, leaving you unable to form any words. "You don’t have to say anything... Your eyes. They say more. Always," he murmured, looking into your eyes for so long that you feared feeling exposed.

But then you understood. You already were. Todd already knew you were the girl behind the poetry and that you felt as deeply for him as he did for you. His hands released their grip and gently touched your face, wiping away the silent tears streaming down your cheeks and caressing the flushed areas. Your crying stopped, and your heart raced. You felt his heavy breathing over you, and he felt yours. After a few seconds, Todd kissed you. It was short, rushed, and anxious. But it was the best kiss you’d ever had in your life.

"I like you too. A lot, Todd," you whispered without opening your eyes, afraid your eyes would say more than your lips.

"I knew it the second week the notes stopped," he said, and you opened your eyes. "That’s when I realized I wasn’t the only one in love."

"Todd..." He silenced you with another kiss, this one slow, delicate, and patient, filled with unwritten poetry between the lines. Much better than the first, leaving you wanting more.

After that, the two of you began dating. You showed your love through physical acts, like kissing, hugging, or holding hands all the time. Meanwhile, Todd preferred to be more reserved. He now left you notes and preferred to kiss you in secret, feeling the intimacy of his love. And then, everything made sense.

[harrywavycurly]

I still think about how soft Harry turned for his sunshine girl and I imagine all the random voice notes he’d send her during the day when he can’t call her or maybe the voicemails he’d leave and how sweet his little rants would be😩🥹

Hiii babes!! I miss my little lovey dovey HWC Harry so I’m gonna give you some examples of his rant-ish voicemails and voice notes to his sunshine girl! I hope you enjoy!!💖

Find all things Handle With Care here✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @namoreno @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @triski73

Summary: These are some voice notes and voicemails your lovely ex frat daddy boyfriend Harry sends you during the week✨

Monday’s Voice Note: “Good morning sunshine it’s…uhh shit…oh sorry don’t be mad…ah okay it’s seven fifteen in the morning and I’m about to go for a run and then come see you before you go to work. I hope you slept good? How did that weird sleepy tea taste? Did it work?…m’not totally sure all those things are actually good for you but if they help then I’m all for it because my sunshine girl needs her full eight hours or she’s a bit prickly…but I don’t mind when you’re a little grumpy..makes you more cuddly and we both know how I feel about cuddling so-oh bloody hell why is all my coffee gone? m’gonna kill that Irish fuck-I mean I love you baby I’ll see you in a bit…I wonder if you’re dreaming about me right now? Hmmm…you’ll have to tell me what you dreamt about when I see you. Love you!”

Tuesday’s voicemail: “Hey baby I’m just seeing if you’re free for dinner tonight? I forgot you had a meeting during lunch today so just call me back whenever you can…I miss you…oh and I love you…yeah okay that’s it. Love you…I already said that didn’t I? Oh well you can hear it again…I love you…bye sunshine.”

Wednesday’s voicemail: “I am so sorry I couldn’t walk you to work this morning I forgot to set an alarm and when I woke up I saw all your missed calls and…god I’m-shit I’m so late…I’m sorry sweetheart but I hope you have a good day and I’m going to come see you for lunch! I’ll bring your favorite…I love you! I’ll see you soon! Make sure to save a few smiles for me okay? Don’t give them all away…love you.”

Thursday’s Voice Note: “Goodnight my sunshine girl…thank you for letting me pick the movie tonight even though it’s technically your night…I love you and I can’t wait until you finally stop telling me no when I ask you to move in because we both know you want to live with me…or maybe it’s that we both know I really really hate not being able to wake up next to you everyday..two floors of separation is killing me baby and I know one day soon…you’ll just stop fighting it and just accept the fact we are going to be together forever so might as well start forever as soon as we can…and before you say anything yes I stole parts of that from when Harry met Sally but it’s the truth…remember when you said you’d be okay with the wife thing after our first kiss? Well that was almost a year ago…but anyway…I love you…a lot…actually it’s more than just a lot but there’s not a word to describe the amount so…a lot will just have to do for now…I know you’re just now getting out of your bath and putting on all your lotions and potions that make you all soft and uhg…I miss you…fuck this…ohh sorry baby…let me just grab my sweatshirt and—where are my socks? Oh okay here they are…I’ll be there in three minutes and forty five seconds…prepare for a sleepover because I miss you too much. I love you! Don’t fall asleep before I get there!”

Friday’s Voice Note: “Hey sweetheart did you know Niall has a key to your apartment? I didn’t until he walked in while I was in the living room and he scared the shi-crap out of me…when did he get a key? Did he steal it from you?…oh and I’m making pizza for dinner does that sound good? I hope you’re having a good day at work…Miss you and love you like crazy.”

Saturday’s Voicemail: “Hey baby…m’a little drunk but s’all Niall’s fault and god I love you. I’m gonna marry you when you finally let me. But you know that yeah? Yeah…yeah you know that…god hallways are so long and…and ugly? Why are the hallways so hideous? M’gonna come cuddle you is that okay? If it’s not just…kick me off the bed okay? Yeah..yeah I’ll see you soon sunshine…my sunshine..you smell like flowers and sunshine because you’re my sunshine girl…that I love so…so much a lot…m’gonna go now okay? M’at the door! Love you!”

Sunday’s Voice Note: “Baby where are you? You just left me in bed with a bottle of water and some aspirin with a note on my forehead saying…br…feast? That’s…that’s not a real word?…wait oh it says…breakfast…did you go get breakfast? God I’m so lucky that you’re my…my everything…you’re too good to me. I’m gonna go shower because I smell like the floor of a shitty bar…but I love you and miss your cute face so hurry back? Please?”

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

(source)

[maxlarens]

⭐️ - Max - prompt: I will ease your mind (from bridge over troubled water) please thank you 🫶🏻 ily darling

You’re fine. It’s Friday. You’re fine.

You’ve got an afternoon and two whole days of being able to pretend your job doesn’t exist. To bury your work phone at the bottom of your handbag and only fish it out Monday morning. To get the tube home, go straight to bed and fall asleep without dinner—

fuck. Shit.

You’re meant to be getting dinner with Max.

That’s why you wore the cute (but still work appropriate) outfit today. The slightly nicer shoes. Your hair is even done. But you’re already on public transport going the opposite way to where dinner is supposed to be. You’re exhausted, you’re sinking into the seat like it’ll swallow you whole. Like if you try hard enough you could teleport straight to your bed.

You sigh, you fish your (non-work) phone out of your bag.

It only rings once before Max has already picked up.

“Schat,” he breathes, worried, like something might have happened to you, “What is it?”

You’re shaking your head, “Nothing. Nothing. Except I got on the tube home, instead of to dinner. It’s— hmm— it’s been a long day. To say the least.”

You hear a noise from him, a contemplative hum, the scrape of a chair, “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I—”, you frown glancing at a map of the stops, trying to puzzle through your memory, “Like halfway to my apartment… I dunno though, Maxie. I’m wiped. I won’t be any fun at dinner.”

You hear footsteps echoing, “You don’t have to be fun for me”, then, “Get off the train, schat. I’ll take you home.”

You hum, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m already in my car.”

Max picks you up on the side of the road by the train station ten minutes later. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, lean over the dash and kiss him. He mumbles a sweet hello against your mouth, his hand hovering at your jaw, drifting into your hair. After the kiss is finished you press your forehead into his cheek and sigh. A prolonged tired thing.

“Work bad?”, he asks, hand gently cradling the back of your neck now.

“Awful,” you breathe, “So bad.”

“Mm,” he strokes the skin on your neck, “Let me take you home, liefje. We’ll order your favourite.”

“Please,” you murmur, “Can we watch Tangled too?”

Max snickers a little into your hair, “Whatever you want.”

You pull yourself from his grip, kissing his cheek before settling into the passenger seat. It’s not a long drive home, but as it goes on you feel the exhaustion sinking deep into your bones. The work day wearing on you even more now that it’s over. Max can see it on you, the way your thoughts are still fumbling through the issues of the day, the things you’ll have to deal with come Monday.

You’re distracted on the elevator ride to your floor, while you fish your keys from your bag, even as you flick the lights on by the door and set your bag on the kitchen counter. Max trails behind you, crowding you in the kitchen. He puts his arms around you, puts his nose into your shoulder. Kisses the junction of your neck.

“You should quit,” he says, quiet, low— you feel something skitter down into your gut as you lean back into him, “Move in with me and the cats. They love you.”

“Yeah,” you say, fishing for something else, “Do they?”

“Of course, schat,” his breath fans against your ear, “and so do I.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ohhhhh to have someone tell u to quit your job so they can take care of u. anyway i hope this is kinda what u had in mind🥰 also tangled like is the ultimate comfort movie for me

send me a prompt/request + a driver and i’ll write a drabble. pls check my requests are open first💖

[elliesangell]

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ You and me together forever P.1⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Warnings: mention of self-harm,cuts,blood,fight wc: 2.7k notes: This is my first fanfic, and I’m still learning English, so I translated this text myself. I apologize for any possible mistakes, and I hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!

->->-> Part 2 (Final Part)

Description:

You are a shy, quiet, and aggressive student. Lately, you’ve been struggling with deep depression, and you're dealing with it in less-than-healthy ways. Every argument with other students almost always ends in a fight. But even someone like you has a weakness — Ellie💖

Waking up, you hear your alarm beeping. Reluctantly, you open your eyes and grab your phone. After turning off the alarm, you glance at the lock screen: 7:10 AM, Monday.

“Damn, I hate Mondays” — you mutter to yourself, not wanting to get out of bed. You place your phone on the dresser, and next to you on the bed is the book «She Drives Me Crazy». You put the book aside and get up

Grudgingly, you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. The bright bathroom light blinds you, but squinting, you approach the mirror. Your face looks sleepy, and your hair is messy. Another morning, another routine, boring day. You walk over to the sink and turn on the cold water. The icy stream runs through your palms, sending shivers down your spine. Closing your eyes, you splash cold water onto your face several times, feeling the droplets run down your neck. After a quick, refreshing wash, you reach for a towel to dry your face.

But your gaze catches on your hands. Fresh cuts on your wrists remind you of recent events.

“Shit... I deserved it… I’ll make it worse next time” — you whisper, gritting your teeth and gently tracing the cuts that have already begun to heal.

Resigned to the feeling, you pick up your toothbrush and start brushing your teeth, thinking about the day ahead. After finishing your morning routine, you return to your room and pull on your usual black hoodie with long sleeves and a pair of jeans. Almost ready. At that moment, your phone vibrates with a message from Ellie.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Dress warm, it’s cold outside. I’ll be there soon"

Reading her message, you can’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread across your face. Every word from her feels like it heats you up from the inside. In the hallway, you slip on your sneakers, but something makes you stop in front of the mirror. Your hair is a mess.

“Alright, I need to tidy up a little” you say, smoothing down your hair with your hands and tucking it behind your ears. Your eyes linger on the mirror for a moment, and, unable to resist, you dab a little of your favorite perfume on your neck.

“She won’t notice anyway” you exhale sadly, grabbing your black leather jacket and keys before heading out the door.

As soon as you step outside, the cold wind hits your face. Ellie was right, as always—it’s freezing. Lost in thought, you suddenly hear the familiar roar of a motorbike. And there she is, pulling up on her black motorbike. Ellie, in her light green jacket and grey jeans, takes off her helmet, her green eyes instantly locking onto yours. You feel your face flush.

Approaching her, your heart beats faster. You hug each other in greeting, and you’ve always loved feeling her close. In her arms, you feel safe. You could stay like this forever.

Without thinking, you breathe in the scent of her brown hair, and something in your stomach tightens sweetly, like butterflies fluttering inside you.

“Hey” you say softly into her ear.

“Hey there” Ellie replies cheerfully. You break the hug and take a step back, meeting her eyes.

“How’d you sleep?” she asks.

“Not bad, but I could’ve used more” you answer, yawning.

Ellie smiles that warm, reassuring smile.

“Stayed up late at your laptop again?”

“Yeah”

“Playing something?”

“No, just listening to music and reading stuff”

“What kind of stuff, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Just a book” you answer evasively, not wanting to discuss it further.

To avoid more questions, you quickly change the subject.

“What did you do last night?”

“I watched «Spider-Man No Way Home» I loved it. Have you seen it?”

“No, but if I have time, I’ll definitely check it out”

You feel your confidence fading as her green eyes sparkle in the morning light. Your cheeks flush, and you drop your gaze to the motorbike, gently touching it.

“What time did you go to bed?” you ask, looking back at her and noticing her warm, sincere smile. Your heart races, and a pleasant thrill fills your chest.

“Oh, I don’t remember… around midnight. You?”

“I think around 2 AM”

“Now I know why you didn’t sleep well. You need to go to bed earlier” she says in a caring tone, her voice soft with concern.

You smile wider, unable to help it, especially when you see Ellie blush and lower her gaze. She fidgets with her hands, not knowing where to put them, and your heart skips a beat again.

"Okay... I guess it's time to go" she says with a slight reluctance, trying to regain her seriousness, though she still sounds a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, I guess so" you sigh, but you try to hide your disappointment.

"Here you go" Ellie says, holding out the helmet. Her hand touches yours for a moment, and you freeze, savoring the brief contact.

You take the black and red helmet, feeling a twinge of sadness. You don’t want to go to university because time always seems to fly too quickly when you're with Ellie. As you put the helmet on, you glance at her a few times, and each time your eyes meet. Her gaze is warm, and you notice the tenderness in the way she looks at you.

"You look good" her voice is soft, but there's a note of genuine admiration in it.

You can’t hold back a smile. Your cheeks start to heat up, and you're glad the helmet is already hiding your embarrassment.

"Thanks... you look great too" you reply, your voice trembling slightly with excitement. Ellie smiles back, and the warmth in her smile feels like it’s spreading inside you.

"Thank you!" she responds cheerfully, and you realize you could stare at her smile for hours. But she’s already putting her helmet on.

"Come on, get on, or we'll be late" Ellie says, swinging her leg over the motorbike.

You sigh, feeling a little sad that the moment is ending, but you climb on behind her, wrapping your arms tightly around her waist. The gesture feels so natural to you. You've always loved how soft her skin feels, her slim waist fitting perfectly in your embrace. A familiar thrill builds inside you, and your heart beats faster.

But your thoughts are interrupted by her raspy voice:

"You ready?" she asks, turning her head slightly towards you.

"Just don't go too fast, okay? I'm still not used to it..." you reply, your voice tinged with slight anxiety, remembering how you didn’t feel great last time when Ellie picked up speed.

She laughs softly at your reaction and places her hand over yours on her waist, gently stroking your knuckles.

"Okay, okay, I won’t. I promise. Just hold on tight, alright? And if you feel uncomfortable, let me know right away" her voice is soft, caring, and she looks at you with a slight smile.

Her fingers are so warm against your cold hands that you flinch slightly, but as she continues to stroke your hands, you start to melt under her touch. Your cheeks heat up even more, and you’re thankful the helmet is hiding your blush.

"Thank you... I’ll definitely tell you if something’s wrong."

To your disappointment, Ellie removes her hand and starts the motorbike. You begin to move slowly, and you instinctively clutch her waist tighter, feeling the cold wind against your face. You press yourself closer to her back, soaking in the warmth of her body, feeling safe.

When you arrive at the university, your grip relaxes.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Did you get cold on the way?" Ellie asks.

"A bit, but I’m fine, thanks."

You hop off the motorbike, take off your helmet, and hand it to Ellie. She smiles at you, her gaze warm and caring.

"Will you come with me to my locker? I need to grab my notebooks" Ellie asks.

"Yeah, sure."

Ellie parks the motorbike and takes the keys. You walk with her to the university doors, and as you run ahead, you hold the door open, letting Ellie and a few other students pass through. Ellie throws you a warm smile, her gaze lingering a little longer than usual.

"Thanks" she says, her voice soft and sincere.

You notice the faint pink tinge on her cheeks, and it makes your heart swell with warmth. Lately, all you've wanted is to see her happy her smile means everything to you. She’s the reason you get up in the morning.

The crowd of students fills the corridor, and you feel a bit awkward in the hustle and bustle. Ellie, as always, notices. You walk in silence until she breaks it.

"You know, we could watch a movie" she suddenly suggests.

You don’t immediately register what you’ve just heard. Your eyes widen, and your lips stretch into a wide smile.

"A movie? I wouldn’t mind... When?" Your voice trembles slightly with surprise and joy.

Ellie seems a little embarrassed, her cheeks turning a soft pink. She starts rubbing her fingers together, as if nervous.

"Well... whenever it’s convenient for you."

You can’t take your eyes off her face, and the longer you stare, the more you feel your own cheeks starting to burn.

"Even tonight... if that’s okay with you, of course" you try to sound calm, but inside, a whirlwind of emotions rages.

Ellie nods, her green eyes sparkling in the dim light of the corridor.

"Yeah, I’m free tonight.. So, tonight?"

"Yeah,tonight" you whisper, lost in daydreams about how the evening might unfold.

You already imagine sitting next to her, watching the movie, feeling her warmth. But your fantasy is suddenly interrupted by a rough shove. Some guy squeezes past, pushing you both.

"Get away from my way" he barks, not bothering to look back.

You blink, not fully understanding what just happened. Then you turn to Ellie, placing a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" you ask, your voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, I’m fine" she assures you, frowning slightly. "What about you?"

But your gaze is already fixed on the guy, who’s now rummaging through his locker like nothing happened. Thoughts of Ellie being hurt flood your mind.

"I’m... fine"

Your fists clench on their own as a wave of anger washes over you. You throw your backpack to the ground and march toward him, your rage barely contained.

Ellie notices and quickly follows you. The guy is taller than both of you, with a broad build, wearing a blue shirt and black trousers. Your heart pounds harder and harder, but your thirst for justice takes over.

"Hey, jerk, why’d you push us?" Your voice comes out harsh.

The guy doesn’t even turn to look at you, continuing to dig through his locker. That just makes you angrier.

Ellie, smirking, steps closer and slams his locker door shut, forcing him to acknowledge you both. He turns around, ignoring you and focusing on Ellie.

"Why did you push us?" she asks coldly, her tone unwavering.

"Back off" he snaps, grinning maliciously.

Ellie’s about to respond, but you’re faster. Grabbing him by the collar, you slam him against the locker and lean in close.

"You need to apologize" your voice is low and dangerous. "Or I’ll beat the crap out of you."

The guy looks shocked, clearly not expecting such a reaction. But his expression quickly changes to a sneer.

"Really?" he hisses. "Think you’re tough? Let me go, or you’ll both regret it"

His words sting. He’s threatening not only you but Ellie, too. That’s enough to push you over the edge. You tighten your fists and punch him square in the face, venting all your rage. He tries to grab at you, but Ellie steps in, delivering her own punch and pushing him away from you.

"Get off her, you bastard!" she shouts, her voice almost a growl.

A crowd of students starts to gather, some running up to pull you apart. In the scuffle, your sleeves ride up, exposing your wrists. The students gasp when they see the scars.

Ellie stands protectively behind you, but even she freezes when she catches sight of the marks on your skin. Her eyes dart from your wrists to your face, worry etched into her expression.

You don’t immediately understand why everyone’s staring at you like that. But then you see where Ellie’s gaze is fixed. You glance down at your wrists, realizing that the cuts you’ve worked so hard to hide are now visible to everyone.

Panic surges through you, and you quickly try to pull your sleeves back down, but it’s too late. Heat rushes to your face, your heart pounding so loud it echoes in your ears. Your hands begin to tremble, your back slick with adrenaline and fear. You notice a few students nearby whispering to each other, exchanging confused glances.

Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Every look, every whisper feels like a blow, and the world around you blurs. Tears well up in your eyes, and despite your best efforts, they spill over, rolling down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away with your sleeve, but more follow, a torrent of emotions—shame, pain, vulnerability—crashing over you.

All you wanted to do was disappear, to get away from those prying eyes and discussions. Without thinking, you turned and ran. Leaving the backpack behind, leaving Ellie behind, leaving this agonizing moment behind.

Ellie watched you with her fists clenched. She saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, and felt her heart break with pain for you. She knew how important it was to be there for you right now, but you were already out of her sight. Anger rose up in her in a wave - not at you, but at the one who had caused all of this. Gritting her teeth, Ellie turned back to the guy who was standing in front of the locker, not yet fully aware of what had just happened. She took a step toward him, not giving him time to respond, and slammed her fist right into his face. Blood streamed from his nose, but she didn't stop. Grabbing him by the collar, she pulled him closer, pinning him against the metal locker doors.

“This is all because of you, you motherfucker!" Ellie gritted through her teeth, her voice low but full of anger.

She clenched her jaw so hard that the veins in her face were showing. The boy gasped in fear, his eyes widening, blood continuing to drip onto Ellie's hands. -

"I...I didn't know..." he wheezed, looking at her with horror.

"If I ever see you around again, I'm going to make it a lot worse" Ellie said, every word she said sounding with cold determination.

She finally let go of him and pushed him back to his locker, and turned to the crowd of students who were still standing in a daze, watching the scene.

"What are you looking at? Get the fuck out of here!" - she shouted, her voice sounding rough, almost growling.

The students began to slowly disperse, though some continued to furtively watch from afar. Ellie walked over to your abandoned backpack, picked it up and dusted it off. Her whole body was still shaking with adrenaline, but her thoughts were on you. She looked back in the direction you had run, and her face slowly faded from anger to worry and pain.

Where did you run to, my dear..." she murmured softly, clutching your backpack to her. She needed to find you, when you needed support the most.

Thank you for reading my first fanfic I hope you enjoyed it!🌟🏹🌿

->->-> Part 2 (Final Part)

[pennedwithpassion]

Can I just say Nico. You would have to be one of the prettiest women I’ve ever layed eyes on. We’ve spoke on some of my old blogs. Your inner beauty and how friendly you are matches your outer beauty just as much as. 😘 just a friendly reminder of how wonderful a human you are, enjoy your day

Goodness, what an absolutely wonderful Ask to receive on a Monday evening. Thank you so much!! I am forever grateful to receive such lovely compliments! 🥰💖 Hope you enjoy your day and week as well!

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

I think we should all take an example from the collared dove that my mums photographed outside our house twice now just smiling . Look at that lil guy.

[probablysimpledreams]

CONGRATS ON 200!!! You deserve 200000000 tbh bestie!!

For the event: "Oh gosh, I hope I make it through the night" (15 Minutes) + Shigaraki + coworker au

BESTIEEEE!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHH💖💖 thank youuu and thank you for this Shiggy request I've never thought of this au with him but now low key obsessed👀 annnnnd came at a perfect time bc it's (almost) his bday!!! So happy birthday Shiggy<333 I hope you enjoy this bestie hehe

cw: office party, alcohol and weed, slightly nsfw

wc: 1313

The only thing worse than being at the office all day was being there all night for a company party.

Your branch had been performing exceptionally well these past few months and instead of giving out raises or bonuses to celebrate everyone's hard work, your bosses decided an afterwork Friday night party was the way to show appreciation.

Originally you weren't even going to attend. If you wanted to be surrounded by annoying drunk people you would have just gone out to the bar on your own accord. Your Friday night would have been much better spent in the comfort of your own home, curled up with a good series and better tasing alcohol. Plus, the gossip on Monday would have been so much more entertaining to hear if you weren't watching it unfold in real time. As annoying as your coworkers could be, you loved some office gossip from them.

The only reason you were even here was because your work bestie had begged you to come. All yesterday she talked your ear off about how much fun it will be and that you two will spend the whole night together enjoying the free food and drinks, you won't even feel like you're at the office! Yeah, so that lasted maybe one full hour before she got enough liquor courage to go flirt with her little office crush. In hindsight you should have expected this, as you knew she was not the type to pace herself around alcohol no matter the setting.

You swirl your half drank cup around as you stand in a group, everyone listening to one of your coworker's tell some story about a cruise he went on years ago. You continue to sip on the punch, a mixture of cheap liquors and juice, as the story continues. By the time you finish your drink, he's finally done dragging out the story which gives you the perfect opportunity to slip away from the group. You toss your empty cup into the trashcan before heading out into the hall so you can think without the sound and body heat of hundreds of people suffocating you.

"Hmmm it's only 9:30, guess I'll stay for another 30 then leave," you sigh, checking your watch as you lean against the wall. "10 minutes out here then 20 back inside to say bye an-"

"Already tired of these losers too?" a nearby voice asks, making you realize you weren't alone like you originally thought. Your attention moves away from your phone as you move closer to the voice. You look around the hall confused as it didn't seem like anyone was out here.

"In here," the voice calls out again as he hears your footsteps moving closer to the closet. You notice the door is slightly cracked, so you push it open a tad more to find your coworker Tomura seated on the floor, back against the wall as he taps through a game on his phone with one hand and takes a hit from his pen with the other.

"I'm surprised you even stayed for this," you say with a slight laugh before sitting down next to him. He notices the way your eyes keep glancing over to his pen, so he offers it to you while finishing out the current round on his mobile game.

"Would have been stupid not to take up the offer of free food," he shrugs, not looking up from his phone as he responds. "If anything I'm surprised you're not back in there. Took you for more the social type."

"Eh, just not really feeling it tonight I guess," you respond before taking a few hits from the pen, ignoring the way he chuckles to himself when you start coughing. "What are you playing?" you ask after clearing your throat, leaning up against him to look over his shoulder and missing the way his cheeks flush at the sudden contact.

Tomura goes on to explain the game in full detail, making you giggle as he jumps from game lore to character lore to his personal opinions on every aspect. As he continues to play through the game with you watching and cheering him on, you two continue hitting his pen until the battery dies. Though you promised yourself you weren't going to get drunk tonight, you never said you weren't going to get high. You felt giddy as you sat there with Tomura, like you two were in your own little bubble away from all the annoyance occurring in the office space just steps away. The weed was affecting Tomura too as the occasional glances he shot your way were becoming more frequent and lasting longer. You were starting to distract him so much that by now his game was long forgotten, and you watched the way his phone slide out of his grasp before his hands cupped your face and pulled you into a kiss. The action shocked you as the weed and suddenness of everything made you dizzy. Once he pulled away, the two of you just stare at each other in silence. Enough time had passed in Tomura's mind to show him he had fucked up in this moment, but before he could awkwardly run out of the closet you grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.

"Wait don't leave," you shyly tug at the fabric, refusing to make direct eye contact. Tomura's eye's widen at the sight, and he swore his heart was going to jump right out his chest. Fuck, he had been fantasizing about this happening ever since he began working here. Ever since the first day he laid eyes on you and your kind smile. Ever since you made it a point to at least once a week to check in on him, asking him about his weekend and how his life was despite no one else in the office giving him much time of day.

"Kiss me again?" The words left your mouth before you could even think of anything else. You had always thought he was so beautiful, even if he was a little shy and weird compared to others. Ever since the moment you first laid eyes on him, you knew you wanted him. Sure, it was taking more time than you had originally expected but now that he was here as you wanted you weren't going to let him get away so easily. "Please?"

Tomura rubbed his eyes as he looked down at you on the ground, unsure if he was hearing you correctly or if he truly was so high he was imagining things. You notice the way he's frozen and unsure, so decide it's your turn to make a sudden move. You quickly jump to your feet, falling against his body as you pull back into a kiss. You smile against him as you hear soft whimpers leave his lips. You guide his shaky, unsure hands to your waist as you deepen the kiss. Once secured on your body, Tomura's hand grip your waist tightly as your confidence encourages him to be confident too. He pushes you against the closet door, as now it's shut making sure no one can even think about entering the little bubble you two have created away from the rest of the world. The kiss starts out gentle until it becomes rough and hungry, making your knees buckle. Tomura's lips leave yours and slide down to your neck, placing hot kisses against the exposed skin, while his hands begin sliding up your shirt. Your hands tug at his hair, causing him to groan before his head turns to look up at you with hazy, lustful eyes.

"Let's get out of here," he places another soft kiss to your cheek before nipping at your earlobe to lean in and whisper. "And go somewhere way more comfortable. And way more private."

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Spooky Basket: Lewis Hamilton

Formula One Masterlist

word count: 800

description: You and your boyfriend surprise each other with spooky baskets for halloween

A/N: this was supposed to be posted halloween but work and school got in the way! So Happy Late Halloween 💖

Lewis was checking his notifications while he waited for you to get off of work when he saw your tweet that said "it's fine I didn't want a spooky basket anyway 😭." He closed out twitter and went to google to see what a boo basket was and began getting some ideas on what to do for you and decided to make you one for Halloween. He saw you walking out of your building and quickly locked his phone before climbing out of his car to come greet you. 

"Hey sweetheart, I missed you. How was work today?" He asked wrapping his arms around you and placing a kiss on your lips. 

"Hey baby, I missed you too and it was alright, my feet are killing me and I'm hungry." You said. 

"Well why don't we get you off your feet and go grab some takeout before we head home? And then after we eat, I'll give you a nice foot massage." He offered.

"That sounds nice. Hey do you think Saturday you could come with me while I grab the stuff I need for um Angelica's boo basket?" You asked him as he helped you into the car. 

"Of course, you know I love spending time with you while you run errands." He said placing a kiss on your lips. 

You guys headed to y'all's favorite takeout spot before heading home where you ate and were given the foot massage you were promised. 

While you were at work the next few days Lewis worked on your spooky basket that way he wouldn't risk you finding out about it because he truly wanted to surprise you on Halloween with it and the special halloween flowers he was having made for you. After he finished it up he went your best friends house to leave it there until Halloween which was in two days so you didn't accidentally find it. 

"She's gonna love this? And the flowers you are having made." Your best friend said as she looked at the basket. 

"You think so? I've never done anything like this before but I saw her tweet and wanted to surprise her with it and the flowers." He said nervously.

"She's gonna love it Lewis just for the fact that you took the time to make it for her." She said squeezing his hand. 

"Thank you again, I'll probably come get it Monday night if that's alright with you." He asked. 

"That's perfect with me, and if I'm not here Kyle knows where it is and can give it to you." She said as Lewis nodded his head before heading out.

Your friend smiled after Lewis left, because little did Lewis know is that you had made him a spooky basket weeks ago and had been hiding it with her so he wouldn't find it.

It was the day before Halloween well more so a few hours before it and you and Lewis were on the couch watching a horror movie together when the doorbell rang. You looked at him confused as he got up to answer it before coming back inside with a huge bouquet of flowers. 

"You got me flowers?" You asked him. 

"Not just any flowers but special Halloween ones, I hope you like them." He said handing you the bouquet. 

You took them and were shocked to see he had you custom flowers made that were decorated with ghostface and the wrapping paper said "let me murdered that pussy" which made you laugh. 

"Thank you so much baby, I love them and as for that quote you will be never be denied doing that." You said as you kissed him. 

"I'm glad you like them and good to know but this is part of your Halloween gift, do you want the other half now or do you want to wait until tomorrow?" He  asked you. 

"Would it be wrong to say I want it now because I'm curious to see what the other half is." You asked him. 

"Not at all. I'll be right back sweets." He said placing a kiss on your forehead before disappearing down the hall. 

A few minutes later he returns with a Halloween bucket in your hands and you look at him in shock because he didn't actually make you a spooky basket for you? Did he?? He handed you the basket and you wordless sat there looking through it which was making Lewis nervous. 

"I'm sorry if this isn't the best but I tried because I know how much you wanted one. I hope you like it, i worked really..."he started to say before you threw your arms around him. 

"Thank you...so much baby. You don't know how this means to me that you made this for me. I love it, the flowers and you so much." You said to him. 

"Your welcome sweetheart. You know I do anything for you especially to see you smiling like you are right now. I love you so much sweetheart." He said placing a kiss on your lips. 

"I love you Bubs. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go get your gift." You said leaving him confused as you disappeared down the hall. 

Lewis sat there confused until you returned with your own spooky basket in hand that you walked over and handed to him. 

"For you." You said as you took a seat next to him. 

"Awh sweetheart you shouldn't have." He said as he looked through his basket. 

"Of course I did. Your my man and you deserve a spooky basket as well." You said making him smile. 

"Well thank you sweetheart, I love it and you so much. Happy Halloween my love." He said placing a kiss on your lips. 

"Happy Halloween Bubs." You said smiling at him. 

*BONUS* 

Y/N added to their story!

Y/N added to their story!

Lewis Hamilton added to their story!

[padfootagain]

Bookshelves

Hi everyone ! Here is a cute little something to answer this anonymous request for my 6k event : “I am in love with your writing style 💖😍 Can you make ben Barnes one with trope 16?”

Thank you for your request, anon! Hope you like the cute drabble I wrote for it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: so much fluff you will get cavities

Summary: Nothing’s better than reorganizing your bookshelves with the love of your life on a crispy autumnal afternoon…

Word count: 1258 (short but sweet!)

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

The air is crisp and cold and you love it. It’s greyer than the leaves outside, they still wear their orange and red colours. The sky matches the global atmosphere of that afternoon: heavy with upcoming rain, gradients between black and white, smelling of the earth after a storm. You have a warm mug waiting for your lips right by your side, there, on the floor. A warm blanket wrapped around your frame and a fire cracking over cold stones. It’s warm, it’s autumn in all its splendour.

It's a simple afternoon, basked in Eta James’s voice, and it’s easy to forget that tomorrow is just another Monday, that you will have to go to work and get up before dawn and fight the cutting edges of the cold wind against your cheeks. It’s easy to forget that this day will have to end. Especially when Ben’s voice rises from somewhere behind you, a low hum that spreads warmth and reassurance across your heart, makes it skip a few beats in its excitement. He’s humming along the melody, matching the warmth of the saxophone and the quietness of his padding feet against the tiles. When he sits down by your side again, a refill of warm tea in his favourite mug, his hair is dishevelled, wearing an old black hoodie and some sweatpants, along with colourful fuzzy socks.

And you love it. You’ve never found him as stunning as he is now, looking cozy and warm and infinitely intimate in the simplicity of his appearance. Nothing fancy. Nothing done to impress you. You’ve passed this uneasy stage of your relationship a long time ago. You love each other too much now to accept anything from the other but their true self. You admire the curve of his jaw darkened with stubble, and the grace of his eyelashes brushing his pale cheeks, and the enticing beauty spot under his right eye. You’re not even thinking as you reach up to brush his messy dark strands of hair back, out of his face, so you can see him better. He’s smiling, turning towards you as you move your fingers through his hair, just the way he likes it.

“Alright, so… how do we proceed with this?” he asks, something mischievous glinting in his dark eyes, and you can’t supress a smile.

The task at hand is huge: rearranging the bookshelves of two people who adore reading is going to be a mission that will keep you both busy for the whole day. You’re going to love every second of it, no doubt.

“Do you want to reorganize everything by author? Genre? Colour?”

“Author is more practical.”

“Colour is prettier.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“I will do whatever makes you happy, my darling.”

“Do you want to separate our collections?”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“We share a last name by now, we’re done compartmentalizing stuff and labelling them as ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. Whenever you’re sick, even your bloody virus becomes mine…”

You laugh at that, playfully pinching his thigh.

“Hey! It’s not my fault if you caught my cold last month! I told you to stop cuddling me, and you didn’t!”

“You looked too miserable. I was feeling too bad for you…”

The admittance is a mix of fondness, shyness and something extra-sweet that your heart can’t handle. It quickens its pace as it overloads.

“Right, so… we’re putting them all together, but how? Because for now, our books are a mess.”

“I vote authors. Because I’m an organised person,” Ben argues, but you pull your tongue at him at the playful teasing in his tone.

“I vote colours, cause it’s more aesthetically pleasing.”

“I vote for whatever makes you happy, cause I’m a clever lad, and I know I need to pick my battles in this relationship…”

“Clever lad, indeed!”

You exchange a laugh and a tender kiss, before starting to empty the shelves, Ben standing up to take the books out and passing them to you so you could organize them in piles.

It takes what looks like forever to empty all the shelves fully. You have mountains of books around you by the time you’re done, and Ben has changed the music to some Louis Armstrong and his trumpet. It has started to rain, and you have to turn on the lights as the sky turns a darker shade of grey. The rhythmic pattern of the rain against the windowpane and the rooftop warms your heart, and draws white clouds over the windows.

Ben is becoming increasingly distracted though. By the time the shelves are empty, he’s restless and keeps on playfully pushing your legs with his feet.

“Stop it!” you smack his foot away when he attacks again, making him giggle in the most adorable way.

“Let’s take a break,” he argues with such an adorable pout, you are this close from yielding, but you don’t, shaking your head.

“Come on, we can cuddle after we’re done with this,” you offer, and you notice the grin he fails to hide.

“In bed?”

“In bed.”

“Can I be little spoon?”

“If you want to, sure.”

This time he gives you a proper grin, bright and full of mischief.

“Oh, that’s a deal! Hurry up!”

You laugh at him as he starts picking piles of books, but he quickly slows down to organize the shelves correctly.

And you love it, it’s so satisfying to reorganize your bookshelves. You add some figurines, some cute pictures of the two of you as decoration to fill up the empty spaces on the shelves. And then it’s finally done, complete.

“I have to admit that the rainbow thingy looks stunning. Highly impractical, but stunning.”

“I think so myself!”

Ben drinks up the cold remnants of his tea, wincing at the nasty taste.

“We did such a good job! All our books finally put together in a pretty way!”

Ben hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer, dropping a sweet kiss to your head.

“We did an excellent job!”

That’s when he realizes that his favourite figurine is missing. He looks around frantically, but you merely chuckle as you point towards the coffee table.

“Marty’s over there,” you joke, and he heaves a relieved sigh, walking over to get his Back to the Future figurine, and he places it on a shelf.

“Now, it’s perfect!” he chimes, turning towards you. “And I think we deserve to rest now.”

“You mean… cuddle?”

“Of course, I mean cuddle! You promised I would get cuddles out of this, do not break your word!”

You laugh at him but follow him anyway, teasing him some more while you make your way to your bedroom.

A few minutes later, you are buried under blankets, watching the rain fall on your windows, the touches of red from the trees in the distance, Ben tugged into your side, his head buried in the warmth of your neck as you stroke gently his back.

He heaves a content sigh.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers into your skin. “God… I’m so happy right now. This is the best, isn’t it? Just… doing the simplest of things together. Just… doing nothing. Just… being here, together.”

You hum, kissing his forehead, and you notice then that he has closed his eyes. He’ll soon fall asleep, he often does when you hold him like this. He can’t help it. He feels so peaceful in your arms, safe, untroubled.

“Yeah… yeah, I think that’s the best, indeed…”

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi....

I have a surgery on Monday an I soooo scared 😢 it not bad or anthing just so my sore throat will go 'way.... can you write somefing bout tha? You don't have too

Anway, loveee youuu allll 🫶🏻🫶🏻💛❤️🩷💜💖💕

Hi there love! 💜

Oh sweetie i'm sure it's gonna be okay. Surgeries can be scary but remember that you're in good hands, they know what they have to do and they know how to do it. You'll feel better afterwards I promise you baby

Anyway, if the surgery hadn't happened yet i give you all of my strenght and if it already happened then first of all i'm sorry it didn't came out before to reassure you but I hope it can help you relaxing right after. I pray so that everything will be going well!

If you have the chance or if you want, I would love to have an uptade on you sweetie <3 (no rush andyou don't have to if you don't want to ;)

Have all the rest you can! And take avantage of it, you can be the little princess for as long as you you need it after the surgery ❤️

PS : it's a short one but I really wanted to get it done for the day of your surgery &lt;3

****

Warnings : surgery comfort, fear, reassurance, kisses, pet names, love

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : they gave you all of their attention for your stressful day

*****

"i scaed, daddy" you say with a trembling voice. Your body is covered by the white sheets of the hospital room and your eyes hurt from the vif color.

The fact that you have to wait is adding to your anxiety and your fear. You learned yesterday that you had to be operate and since then your anxiety couldn't stop growing.

"I know baby, i know. but you remember what we talked about yesterday night ?"

It was almost midnight and you couldn't sleep at all. You got up from bed and went to your Daddies, you were too scared for the next day and needed comfort from them more than ever.

You sneak into their bed and noticed that they were awake too "what are you doing here little one ?" your Daddy asks while sitting down.

Your Papa light up his nighstand lamp and sit down beside your Papa "why aren't you sleeping ? It's really late"

"i scaed"

"oh sweetie"

"baby look at me" your Daddy asks, caressing your knee to calm you down. You look at him with tears in your eyes "you need to do the surgery, i know it's very scary and i understand it but you need it."

"You'll be less in pain afterward and we'll be there for you through it all. You'll never feel alone, not even once. We won't leave your side and you'll feel us beside you at each seconds. I promise you"

You sniff and look at your Papa "do you trust us ?" you nod. "do you believe in us ?" You nod again. "Then for as long as we're standing beside you, nothing bad will happen"

A few tears fall down your cheeks and you crawl toward their open arms. They held you close to them until you fall asleep.

"do you still trust us ?" Your Papa asks. You nod, a scared look on your face "then trust us when we say that it's gonna be alright. We will be right here when you wake up"

"pomise ?"

"we promise princess" he kisses your little hand.

~

"hi babydoll" Your Daddy's hand caresses your forehead as your tired eyes finally opened. It's been ten minutes that you're waking up and then falling back asleep because of anesthesia.

"keep it easy, princess" your Papa rushes toward you "you have all the time you need to come back on earth" He kisses your forehead to reassure you.

"everything went well, your surgery is done and nothing bad happened. You're fine now" just like they promised you

[callsign-dexter]

Love in Sickness

Request: My love 💕 I feel soo terrible at the moment 🤧 would you do something for a lovely anon, with Antonio, where he's taking care of his sick girlfriend and all being lovely and a worried mother hen ? That would be awesome 💖

Pairings: Antonio Dawson x Sick!Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: to the dear sweet anon that sent this in: I hope you're feeling better and sorry I didn't get it out sooner to you!

A/N 2: two fics on the same day? What is going on?

You hadn’t been feeling that great since Thursday of last week. It started out with a scratchy throat but you thought nothing of it and ate some cough drops and drank some tea with honey. Then came the runny nose and sneezing again you thought nothing of it and took some allergy meds and went on with your day. Antonio was worried about you but you just said you were fine and he left it at that, he knew how you got when you got upset. Nothing new happened on Saturday or Sunday so you thought it was over since the symptoms cleared up, you were wrong.

You worked as a teacher so that means you were working with kids and were bound to get sick at some point, turns out that some point was Thursday. You hated being sick. You and being sick did not get along. When you got sick it took you out for several days and you hated it. You also hated to tell Antonio because he tended to go overboard on the mothering. But he was a detective and always found out. You sighed and decided to get up and try to get some fluids into yourself and maybe something to eat, if you could keep it down that is.

It was now Monday and you felt worse than you did on Thursday. Antonio had already gone to work since he had to be up and out the door at 6 AM. So, you woke up to an empty bed which made you feel 10x worse. You laid in bed for a few minutes until you felt your stomach churn and bile started to come up your throat so you jumped up out of bed and into the bathroom. You had just barley made it to the toilet before everything in your stomach had come out. When you were done and all you were doing was dry heaving, you leaned against the wall after flushing the toilet and was catching your breath. Finally, after you caught it and walked to where your phone was and called into work and told them you were sick and told you to come back when you were feeling better. You slowly grabbed Antonio’s hoodie that was hanging off the bedpost and threw it out, it seemed to swallow you whole and brought you comfort and it smelled like him and made you smile. You slipped your phone into the pocket and began your journey to the kitchen.

When you tried to stand up you saw black dots appear in your vision so you sat back down until you felt like you could move. About 10 minutes later when your heart stopped racing you tried again and this time it was successful. You used the wall and slowly walked to the kitchen and then you collapsed onto one of the kitchen chairs. Once you felt like you got some strength you got up and made some soup, once it was done you grabbed a bowl from the top shelf and shivered as you did so. Your muscles screamed at you and you whimpered just the tiniest bit but got the bowl down. You got some of it and went and sat down on the couch. You took one bite but once it hit your stomach it was coming back up and you were running to the bathroom.

Once you were done dry heaving and expelling what little soup you did eat you flushed the toilet and then made your way to the couch. Your legs shook like a newborn foal standing for the first time. Once at the couch you just collapsed onto it with a sigh. You must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew you were being startled awake by your phone vibrating and ringing. You woke up in a sweat but slid it out of the hoodie pocket and squinted at the screen and saw that it was Antonio calling. You answered it and then closed your eyes while beginning to talk.

“Hey, Babe.” You said a little out of it.

“Hey, Baby Girl. You’re not at work?” He said and then you realized that he must’ve went to see you on his and your lunch break, which somehow seemed to match up.

“I’m sorry, Babe. I called in sick. I woke up throwing up.” You said trying to fight nausea.

“Oh, Baby Girl. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You said and you could hear him smile through the phone. You always cared about other people first before you.

“You never bother me. I’ll be home in a couple of minutes, I just got to pick up some stuff first.” He said and you nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

“Ok. I love you.” You said

“I love you too. Now rest up. I’ll be home soon.” He said and then hung up the phone. I took you a minute to realize he had hung up and you pulled the phone away from your ear.

You must’ve fallen back to sleep because you woke up to Antionio running his fingers through your hair. “’Tonio?” You asked sleepily and vision blurry.

“It’s me. How are you feeling? You’re burning up.” He asked and you shook your head which was a mistake because that just brought a headache on and you winced.

“Not good.” You said throat scratchy from the vomiting. He smiled at you and softly.

“Oh, Baby Girl. Have you eaten anything?” He asked

“Yea, but it came up.” You said and closed your eyes covering them.

“The light bothering you?” He asked

“Mhm.” You said

“Do you want to move to the bedroom? It would be more comfortable than the couch.” He asked and you nodded slightly. “Can you walk?” He asked.

“I can try.” You said and started to stand up while wincing at the light, you were still in your sweatpants and his hoodie. When you stood up, with his help, your legs started to shake again.

“I’ll carry you.” He said and bent down to hook an arm under your knees and then around your shoulders. He gently bent your legs and the next thing you knew you were being carried back into the bedroom. Antonio laid you down gently and pulled the covers over you and you snuggled into his hoodie and the covers. He started to leave but you stopped him by grabbing his hand. “I’ll be right back. I need to put the stuff away I got and bring you a Gatorade and a bucket. I also want to get a thermometer to check the temperature of yours.” He said and you nodded and let him leave. Antonio was always good to you when you were sick and you truly loved it even if he did go crazy overboard at times. He walked back into the bedroom carrying the things he needed for you and then sat down and helped you sit up. “Open.” He said and you did and he put the thermometer under your tongue and 30 seconds later it beeped it read 103°F (39.4°C). “Here take some Tylenol. It’ll help with the fever.” He said and you took it and gave you the Gatorade to wash it down.

“You’re so nice to me.” You mumbled out and he smiled.

“Get some sleep. I’ll check on you in a few.” He said and you nodded already half asleep. Every now and then he would come in with a cool wash cloth and dab your forehead. You didn’t once move or make a sound. You tended to be a heavy sleeper especially being sick. He stroked your hair and felt your forehead with the back of his hand occasionally. He would then go back to doing some tasks around the apartment waiting on you to wake up and tending to you.

3hrs later you woke up with a start and really needed to use the bathroom. So, you shakily pulled the covers back and started to get up and when Antiono walked in. “What are you doing?” He said with a chuckle.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You said and he chuckled.

“I’ll help you.” He said and came over and helped you walk to the bathroom. Once you we were there, you did your business and then flushed. Surprisingly you hadn’t thrown up but then again you hadn’t eaten anything. “Do you want to try the couch?” He asked and you nodded. So, he helped you there and sat you down. He retook your temperature and was happy to see it was back down too normal. He bent down and kissed you on the forehead.

Antonio took care of you for the rest of the time you were sick until 3 days later and you finally started to feel like yourself again. You still didn’t have your strength and he helped you with that. Somehow, he hadn’t gotten sick and you were jealous of that but you didn’t love him any less. You really considered yourself lucky when you met him. You weren’t going to let him go anytime soon that’s for sure.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 26

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Monday's are for pain.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"More wine," Queen Jazlene demands. 

You stand at her shoulder, awaiting her every command. The familiarity of your duty feels safe though you cannot deny the peril all around. You move forward cautiously, sending a glance to king. 

King Geralt has not said or done much. He's hardly even touched his plate. For the first time that night, to your surprise as much as your relief, he looks at you. You pause, hand hovering before the ewer. 

"Another cup won't fare you well on the morrow," he girds. 

Jazlene huffs, "what else am I to do in this dull place but drink?" 

His lashes lower and he sits back. He props his elbow on the straight arm of the chair and gazes out at the boards full of bawdy voices and steps. He tilts his head as his pale sight skewers the chamber. 

"It is a banquet," he utters flatly. You remain close to Jazlene but retract your hand. 

"It is, husband, what do you propose?" She's breathy, almost hopeful. She peers out across the plucking of strings, "a dance?" 

"I know some steps," he extends his fingers, "suppose... there won't be much dancing on the road and Lord Vesemir did go to all this effort." 

"Truly? A dance?" She squals and grabs his forearm, "husband, is this not some cruel jape?" 

His jaw squares and he looks at her without humour, "only a suggestion. We are... married. The people should like to see king and queen together." 

You step back, as surprised as the daughter of Debray. The king himself hardly seems eager but he is ever aloof. You wonder if it is genuine. His refusal to look at you has you uncertain. Does he regret his missteps or are you once assuming too kindly of him? He has taught you those last few days to be skeptical. You are less than grateful for the lesson.  

"I would very much love to dance," Jazlene seizes his large hand and he winces, "thank you, thank you, thank you." She chants in excitement as she rises and the king steels himself as he does the same.  You're not so sure her glee is specific to her partner, but rather the act.

You can’t help but pity the queen. It’s clear she’s desperate for excitement. It would explain her flirtations and her tantrums and all her behaviour. Still, the isn’t the little girl flitting around her father’s castle anymore; she is the queen and her misdeeds will have consequences should she carry on. 

Your eyes drift out as a lull ripples over the chamber followed quickly by a tide of murmurs. The king and queen emerge from behind the royal table as curiosity thrums all around. The troupe continues to strum as Jazlene can hardly contain her elation despite the king’s stoic propriety. They begin the steps; hers jouncy, his flat and formal. She hardly notices her partner’s nonchalance. 

The other partners give breadth to the royal couple as others pause to watch. Whispers and cheers, some whistles encourage the king and queen. It is the first that any have seen the royal couple as one. 

You watch but hardly take in the scene. Your mind wanders to the chamber in the tower, then to the queen’s rooms; you hear only Geralt’s gritting frustration and the queen’s shrill defiance. They play their parts but you are not convinced. 

You peer around and your eyes catch on a shock of rusty orange. Gilles stands by the doors, amid as cluster of other guards. Where his fellow soldiers drink ale and grumble, he stares at the royal pair, bound by the sight of the queen on the king’s arm.  

You follow his gaze and meet King Geralt’s golden irises. His brow twitches and he quickly draws his attention back to his queen. You are confounded by him. You cannot figure if he truly has reconsidered his intent or he is merely hiding. He’s shown you before that he can feign whatever role suits his means; gallant king, pensive man, troubled soul. In the end, his only concern is his own will. 

Your chest rents deeper amidst your doom-laden thoughts. When did you grow so cynical? It’s these Hinterlands; their chill invades even the soul. Your lips tug down and you put your eyes to the stone wall. You need only see the night through. The road will keep all too busy for recklessness. 

As you stand there, you sense a shift, and turn to look over your shoulder. Lord Vesemir waves in your direction, bidding you to him with a pointed finger. You squint and peer back at the queen and king. You cannot disobey the host even if you are bound to a higher title. 

You sidle along behind the tables and stop behind the white-haired lord. He pushes his chair out, leaning into the straight wooden back. He looks up at you, cheeks ruddy with drink. 

“Little dove,” he grits, “how amusing, isn’t it, to see the king afoot on the boards.” 

“My lord,” you agree evenly. 

“I must say he never took so happily to the dance lessons as he did the sword,” Vesemir chuckles, “though he is graceful in both. My own feet do not listen to each other.” 

You bow your head, signaling your attention. You tilt your ear to him and stare at the table. 

“If any knew to watch for it, they would see he does prefer another partner,” the lord sighs, “alas, it would not be wise, as I’ve told him. A king cannot so quickly descend into folly. How many times did I say the same to his own father?” 

You lower your lashes.  

“I believe he has heeded my foreboding,” Vesemir reaches for his goblet and grunts as he finds it empty, tilting it to show his disappointment. You move forward to grab the jug of ale and pour him a new cup. He thanks you as he watches you. “And you. You had a restful night? You were provided the promised chamber? A bed?” 

“Yes, my lord, thank you,” you say, “it is rather much for a maid.” 

“We both know you are not any maid,” he pauses to gulp, “tell me, dove, do you find my halls too cold?” 

You set the jug down and step back on your heels. You fold your hands and consider his question as a riddle. You know not how to untangle the words of nobles so you will not try. 

“Cold, yes, but not intolerable, my lord,” you answer. 

“Hm, yes, but you may line your wool a bit thicker,” he reaches to pinch the cuff of your sleeve, “you would not shiver so much.” He rescinds his touch and looks into his cup, swirling the ale, “and your former castle, what was that like? Suppose the Duke of Debray is a rather busy lord, the way he scurries around like rat.” 

You hesitate. You cannot tell if he refers to Lord Dustan’s betrayal. 

“There’s always work for servants in a castle,” you say, “summer or winter. We were kept busy though not many ventured to Debray. It was always the lord that traveled.” 

“Mm, yes, you would not guess it but this vulture’s nest is rarely so lively as this. You’ve only seen it invaded by the king and his horde. When the winter is falling, it is so quiet. The snows drown out the noise below and the ice sparkles as diamonds...” he describes dreamily, “it is calm, peaceful. Not as life is at court. I prefer it. I was never one for that farce.” 

You look at him, listening intently. You think of the cave, of the moths, the desolation nestled within those icy walls. This place is beautiful despite its frosted bite. You might’ve seen clearer sooner were it not for the shroud cast on it by crowded halls. 

“It is safer here,” he continues, “and even as peace is declared, times will grow no less turbulent. Wars do not end so cleanly.” 

You furrow your brow and watch the lord, trying to unfold his words into their true meaning. He chuckles and empties his goblet once more. He sets it down and stands. 

“Perhaps this old man does ramble in his cups,” he shakes his head, “I thank you, dove, for your ear. Loyal as you are, gentle too. You could not know what spell you cast.” 

You retreat as Lord Vesemir angles his broad figure around his chair. He beckons as he turns and for a moment, you think he gestures at you. Instead, the maid, Ezme, appears from the shadows and meets him at the end of the table. He speaks to her as you back up against the wall. He walks with her from the hall as you stare after them. 

His words echo in your head.

What did he mean to say all he did? Another warning of what you already dread? A suggestion that you simply could never heed? Does he suggest escape even as he denotes your futility? Or does he simple speak for nothing more than his own voice? 

You look back to the king and queen. A new pitch picks up as the music swells with the stomping feet on the boards and the japes and jeers. Amid the revelry, the king remains as staunch as always, and once more, your eyes meet. 

Lord Vesemir is not mistaken. There is only turmoil ahead. 

⚔️

The night ends in a march along the corridors. You keep a distance from the king and queen as they walk ahead. Jazlene leans on her husband as she drunkenly babbles. Despite his discouragement, she kept to her wine. Ahead, Gilles walks with his hand on his sword. 

The guard opens the queen’s doors and the king escorts his wife through. You tarry in the archway as the ginger-headed man takes his post but cannot restrain from peeking within. Jazlene falls onto her mattress and sighs, giggling into a chattering shiver. 

“Oh, it is so cold,” she hugs herself, rubbing her arms. 

“You should not wear satin,” the king remands. 

“Rats to that!” She sneers and pushes herself up on her elbows, “I was plenty warm on the boards...” she looks at him coyly and grins, “with you, husband.” 

“And the wine in your belly does convince you of warmth,” he tuts. “I’ve known many men who drank themselves to death thinking it could cure the cold.” 

“Ugh, you are so dour,” she chides shrilly and sits up, reaching for him, “husband, we have a long road ahead. Will you not make use of our last night in the castle?” 

He huffs, “you are drunk and I must see Lord Vesemir about our travel-” 

“It is late. You might see to it in the morn,” she whines. 

He exhales again. He looks down at his boots and tilts his head to his side, but does not raises his eyes. He flicks his fingers in your direction, “close the door. I will see my wife abed.” 

Jazlene falls back and purrs. You can tell by the loll in her head that the wine will see her unconscious shortly. The king puts his hands to his hips and watches her as you back out and Gilles pulls shut the doors, not without undue force. 

“Go then, maid,” he snarls as he steps back against the wall. 

You obey. You are not certain whether to return to the chamber you shared with Ezme or to search out the servants’ quarters. You make no determination before you’re stopped the same slender shadow as the night previous. 

It is Ezme, as if she was summoned by the very thought of her. She is silent as she nods and turns to lead you onward. You follow without bidding. Your stomach churns as you already know she is not taking you to sleep. Something is amiss. 

You stop before a set of doors marked by iron vultures’ heads. She knocks and enters, letting you in after her. Within, Lord Vesemir sits before a fire, the glow flickering over him as he watches the flame. His shirt is untucked, his jacket disposed, and his hair hangs around his bullish face. 

“Dove, your wings cannot weather these winter winds,” he declares sonorously. 

You’re silent. Ezme closes the doors as you remain close to them. You peer around warily. She goes to the lord of the castle and he reaches to squeeze her hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses it. You blink as you stare at them. They are... 

“Please, sit down,” Vesemir insists, “I suppose we will be waiting some time for our king.” 

You don’t understand. Lord Vesemir and Ezme? A noble and a servant. Yet he warns King Geralt against the same with you. It is their manner, you suppose, to do what they would tell others not to. 

You don’t move. You crane to look at the doors then back to the maid and her master. It seems both Geralt and Vesemir agreed upon his attendance there that night but what place do you have there? You are not so brazen as to ask. 

You relent and come further into the chamber. You sit upon the wooden stool close to the wall as Ezme lights another lamp and sets it on the table. You wring your hands in your lap as you wait in silence. The lord lowers his head, patient as he closes his eyes. Or perhaps, fatigued as you are. 

Time sifts through the air like sand through a sieve. Slow and grinding. You stare at your skirts as the other maid drifts like a wraith and the lord sits as a statue. The longer you wait, the deeper the pit grows in your gut. You are owed no explanation but you long for one. 

Finally, there is a tap at the doors. Just the one. Hard but not violent. Ezme moves to open the door. You stand out of habit and a large shadow enters. It is the king. His golden eyes catch the lantern light as he sees the Lord sat before his hearth. 

“Vesemir, I have much to do before the sun.” 

“Aye, don’t I know,” the lord says calmly, “so you best listen and not waste time or breath.” 

The king angles his head, both curious and skeptical. You shift on your feet and the movement draws his attention. He winces as he sees you and his shoulders tense. He peers back at the lord in the light of the fire. He clears his throat. 

“Vesemir, what is your meaning here?” The king demands.