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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

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

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

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

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

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

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum.

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

Away from you.

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

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

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

You never listened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A content breath escapes you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Though, confusion takes president.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did she just say?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can’t just…he can’t…

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

But he made his bed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of it mattered.

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

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

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

—

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

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

Urzikstan.

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

Brick meets wall.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alex…

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passport?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate.

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

“Alex…” you whisper to no one.

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

Laswell.

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

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

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

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

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

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

Dead silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor.

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

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

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

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

“I…I wasn’t…”

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

“Sweetheart—”

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

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

Was that what you were angry about?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Alex…

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

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

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

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

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

All that you needed was Alex. Your home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

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

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

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

You hug him tightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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headcanonenthusiast · 4 months

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COD characters and their opinions on toys

Includes Valeria Garza, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, Simon Riley, König, Kyle Garrick, John Price and Alex Keller.

All headcanons, besides Valeria's, are gender-neutral.

Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in-between, I got an ask from an anonymous user that gave me an absolutely devilish idea. They suggested a multitude of things, but one thing they requested was another COD characters x reader headcanons, but specifically, how they feel about using toys.

Also, if you've been following me for a while, you'll know that I've never written for Price before. He's literally my grandpa but imma do my best to deliver for you Price lovers 🙏

NSFW under the cut.

Enjoy!

Valeria Garza

-Sooooo, yall know how I said she'd encourage the use of toys when away, but when she's with you she won't let you touch one? She still does that.

-Her view on toys is actually quite positive despite restricting your use of them. She kinda just denies you the right to use any toys she hasn't picked out for you specifically bc it turns her on (and bc she's a bitch ❤)

-If she catches you using a toy that she didn't permit you to use, she'll crank the intensity on said toy up to 100 and basically overstimulate you until you're complaining and crying. (Consensually, ofc. Consent is important y'all 🙏)

-"What did I say about using toys without my permission, hm? That's right-I said not to. But, you didn't listen, did you? No, no, you stop that shit. If you didn't want me to punish you, you never would've picked up that vibrator in the first place."

-Shes absolutely RUTHLESS if you use a toy without her permission.

-But, when it comes to toys she DOES want you to use, she'll either intruct you how to use them or just control the toy herself.

-Personal favorite toy is a vibrator, but she also loves using a strap, but only on you. She'll never let you use any type of strap/dildo on her.

-Will occasionally use a vibrator if you aren't there/in the mood on herself, but will never let you use one on her.

Alejandro Vargas

-If you suggest the use of toys, he'll look at you like 🤨

-"Toys? You wanna start using toys? Am I not enough for you anymore, mi chula/o? (Girl/boy)"

-He'll probably think he's not satisfying you enough if you suggest it, but he's open to trying it after you insist that he's still able to satisfy you.

-When he does try them out with you, they become a staple in your sex life. Specifically a vibrator for each of you to use.

-Does prefer it where it's just you two, though. Sex toys are kinda like a special treat he likes to indulge in on occasion.

-After you introduce him to vibrators, though? He uses them all the time for masterbating.

-May or may not send you videos of him pleasuring himself with the toys yall bought together 🤭

-Also may or may not eventually want to get a vibrator that has his name engraved on it for you, so you can use it whenever he's out on missions :)

Rodolfo Parra

-Kinda like Alejandro, where he only uses them sometimes, but has probably used at least a fleshlight before yall got together.

-He's honestly a sucker for vibrators, but it's become something he only does with you. Won't use them to please himself because he needs to hear your voice for it to feel really good.

-His opinion on toys is more positive as opposed to Alejandro's in the beginning, though. He's perfectly fine with the suggestion and doesn't feel embarrassed when you two (obviously) may not know how to use a specific toy for the first time.

-"Don't worry, amor (love). It's only our first time. If we like it, we'll use it again, and the more we use it, the better it'll feel."

-Very encouraging of you if you wanna buy a new toy. And he doesn't necessarily mind what it is, either. Fleshlights, vibrators, straps, most toys he's open to trying.

-Would totally send you videos (or more so, just the audio) of him using any toys you bought for him. Very vocal about it, too. (I'm a firm believer that Rudy has a voice kink)

-Will occasionally send you links to toys he think you'd like on Amazon or something and be like "if you give me a bj I'll buy you this for Christmas " (you don't have to give him a blowjob. He'll buy it for you anyway)

König

-I feel like he'd be a biiggggg fleshlight enjoyer.

-Would love to use one and pretend it's you when you aren't there.

-He's kinda ehhh about other toys, though. Mostly because his fleshlight satisfies him enough without the addition of others.

-If you wanna use them on yourself, that's fine. König just wants you to be happy.

-But, if you wanna use one on him? May Lord have mercy 🙏

-Will probably manhandle you for the suggestion, pinning you down and punishing you how he sees fit.

-Maybe, when he finally loses all self-respect for himself, he'll try it out.

-"But only once." He says, not willing to admit how much he learns to love vibrators.

-Will totally use one when you aren't home. Wouldn't be caught dead by you with one, though. If he asks you what time you'll be home, there's one of two things going on.

-#1: He just misses you

-#2: He's using a vibrator and wants to know if he has enough time to cum before you get home

John Price

-Not a big toy guy honestly, not even with fleshlights or simpler toys.

-Like...I feel like he'd be okay with trying something like a vibrator or sex doll, but he just won't like it as much.

-"These toys aren't anywhere near as good as you, darling."

-They really just aren't for John, but he doesn't wanna deprive you of using them. Most of the time, anyway.

-Sometimes, he'll catch you with one while he hasn't had the best day and is desperate for you. So, he'll take control of the toy for you, gently edging you before taking you for himself.

-"Can't believe you thought that that little toy could compare to me, love."

-Despite barely using the toys himself, he's the one who insists on washing yours after you use them around him. He knows how sensitive the combination of him and toys must make you, therefore, he doesn't want you to move an inch afterwards.

Kyle Garrick

-He's a big toy enthusiast. Loves them, anything that vibrates in particular. Probably has a cockring.

-Gaz is also more than happy to let you use whatever toys you want. On yourself, on him, he's pretty open to when it comes to the use of sex toys.

-On the occasions where you aren't there, he'll send you a video or picture of him using a toy (Totally not to tempt you home, totally not).

-"Look at what you do to me, baby. Can't keep my hands to myself when you're not here."

-I feel like he'd like mutual masterbation. Just watching you use a toy of your choice is enough to make him cum.

-He'll also place any toys on the bedside table to be washed the next morning (which is important btw❗❗) and may or may not get the biggest smirk on his face seeing whatever mess y'all left behind.

Simon Riley

-Appreciates a good fuck with a fleshlight or pocket pussy.

-But besides those types of toys? Ehhh..

-Not really his thing. Like I said in the Simon specific headcanons, he's not really that crazy when it comes to sex. He's not the type to judge his partner if they use toys, but if they manage to piss him off, I feel like he'd hide them. (Would probably just put it on a high shelf or something if you're shorter 💀💀)

-"You're not getting that stupid toy back. Not till you say sorry."

-Might even tease you with the toy, like drawing it over your dick/pussy and chuckling when you demand he give it back.

-"Oh, you want it back, do ya? No, no, no. Sorry, love, but I think I'd like to see why you like this little thing so much before I hand it over."

Alex Keller

-He loves anything that vibrates.

-Almost as much as he loves you, actually. Uses them religiously whenever you aren't in the mood/there.

-Like Gaz where he likes to use them during sex, but not really with mutual masterbation.

-Instead, he'll have a vibrator or even an anal plug on himself while he eats you out/sucks you off. (Totally moans against your cock/pussy btw, he's fairly vocal 🤭)

-Or, you can use a toy on yourself while you give him a handjob and he'll praise you endlessly for it.

-"Aw, does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Good, good girl/boy."

-At the end of the day, though, he'd much rather be cumming from your touch than a toy. So, he'll put them aside so he can have you all to himself. You're absolutely irresistible to him, afterall. How could he choose a toy over you when you're so perfect in his eyes?

Yall I'm SO sorry that this took me forever. Life has been absolutely slaughtering me, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Next up will be COD men x male reader headcanons, so be on the lookout for that!

Feel free to ask me what I should do next! My inbox is always open.

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lxvvie · 6 months

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ᴀʟᴇx ᴋᴇʟʟᴇʀ x ᴘʟᴜꜱ ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴀꜰᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

@shadofireshinobi, you have asked and I'm here to say LAWD HAMMERCY. NSFW begins below the cut.

Alex thinks you're the softest fucking thing he has in his life, boss.

He absolutely, positively loves the way you feel against him, all supple curves pressed against hardened and battle-scarred muscle, especially at night when you're asleep.

It's not uncommon to turn around and see Alex ogling you, especially if you were/are bending down.

Hates the way you belittle yourself, boss. Fuck you mean your hips are too wide? All the more for him to grab and love on you.

Alex loves to rest his hands on them by the way. Other times, he'll wrap his arms around you and pull you flush against him just so you can understand how much he loves you. You feel how fucking hard you make him? You see how much he desires you? Like fuck will he let you slip between his fingers, boss.

And when you're in the throes of an intense makeout session, best believe those hands are on that plush ass of yours.

Those thighs of yours will be the death of him, whether they're hugging him as he's fucking you or his head is buried between them and feasting on that delicious pussy of yours.

Two words: body worship. Yes, Alex can, and yes Alex will. Fuck around and find out, boss. He'll cover your body from head to toe in kisses. And lovebites. Especially on your thighs, and has no problem telling you how fuckin' perfect you are for him.

Sit on his face, too. You won't hurt him, boss. Not by a long shot. He absolutely wants that pussy and those thighs to smother him.

Remember how he likes to rest his hands on your hips? He likes to grip them like his life depends on it, too, as he's busy impaling you on his dick from the back.

Will also have you in a mating press because he wants to see everything. E-VERY-THING. Don't hide your face, let him fucking see it, boss.

Post-coital cuddles after sex are a given. You're in his arms and he's running those hands all over your body, making you shiver and sigh, and oh, what's that, boss? Ready for round two?

#2queued4u.#nsfw.#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x black reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x black reader #x black reader #x plus size reader #call of duty x you #cod x reader #cod x you #x fem!reader

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voi2ds · 8 months

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more q as i’m toying around with designs. i am not settled on this one as i liked her better drawing her flat chested (because my headcanon is that she is transfem and early hrt much like i am) but the reference i used suited this body type better, and i needed practice :)

#fan art #digital fanart #quackity #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp quackity #quackity fanart #quackity art #c quackity #dsmp fanart #alex quackity #fem quackity #victoria’s art #side note a lot of my art is like alter faceclaims and is inspired by the fact that i am a DID patient #just a thought #do not kin tag #i will actually die #no kin tagging please

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 4 months

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Lake House Days

jack hughes x teen mom!reader

note: i love writing little kid dialogue

word count: 1.3k

Bringing the twins anywhere was hard, but having to fly and a long drive to the lake house, was a big trip for the kids. And a very long day for Y/n. All that along with meeting new people, well she knew Jack’s parents, and his brothers, and she met Trevor once. But this would be the first time Jack’s family (minus Luke) and friends were meeting her kids. What if they didn’t like their son dating someone with kids, of course they did know, but knowing and seeing were different things.

“Love, you okay?” Jack’s soothing voice broke Y/n out of her anxious thoughts, just like he always does.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” “About what?” The man gives his girlfriend's thigh a gentle and reassuring squeeze, from where said hand had been resting since they got in the car. Y/n checked over her shoulder, seeing the twins sleeping soundly, Abby’s head leaning on her brother’s shoulder, smiling Y/n turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

“Just of everyone meeting the twins… Your parents and Quinn meeting the twins.” The woman admits, her voice low, more aware of her sleeping children now.

“They are going to love them, they love kids and my family loved you when you met for the first time.” Jack assured her, making a quick glance taking in her reaction before returning his eyes to the road and continuing, “Abby and Eli charm anyone they meet, without them charming me, I would have never talked to you.” “Shut up.” The woman says, smiling.

“Well I hope you got the last of your nerves out because we’re here.” Jack says, pulling into the long driveway of the beautiful and large lake house. Putting the car in park among the impressive number of cars already here, and turning to face the younger girl.

“Ready?” “As I’ll ever be.”

As Y/n slowly tried to wake up the twins, Jack unpacked the car, in the end neither child was ready to wake just yet, leading to Y/n carrying Abby and Jack carrying Eli. The door opened before Jack could open it himself, the image of Quinn in their sights.

“Hey- oh hi.” the man says more quietly after realising the sleepiness in both the twins' faces.”Hey Quinny.” Jack greets his brother, doing the usual bro hug guys to, as well as he could with Eli in his arms. “We’re gonna put these two in their room, then we’ll come down and see everyone.”

Jack and Y/n walk down the stairs after Y/n finally got Eli settled. “Hi Y/n!” Ellen says seeing the couple coming down and bringing Y/n into a tight hug, “Hi Ellen!” “Where are Eli and Abby?” truthfully Y/n never thought Ellen or any of Jack’s family would care to know her children, and it was never anything they had done, in actuality they have done everything to disprove that notion. But with years of dating as a single mother it was more common than not that any partner's family wouldn’t want anything to do with her babies. “They're both napping, they've had a long day already.” “Oh of course! Believe me I know.”

Spending the past hour without the twins and just getting to know Jack’s family and friends better first, had done a lot to ease her anxiety that this time would in fact be different. Y/n and Ellen talked all about how fast your kids grow, Y/n didn’t really have mom friends so it was refreshing to talk about her kids with someone that could relate. This along with Ellen telling many child Jack stories, much to the man’s dismay.

“Mommy?” A quiet, sleepy voice mumbled rubbing his eye with one hand and his sister’s in the other, the young girl’s own other hand holding her most prized possession, her blanky.

“Hi huns! You’re up?” Her rhetorical question causes the girl to nod her head, while jumping into her mom’s lap. Eli walked over to lean his arms on her arm rest, and his head on her chest. “Ready to meet everyone?” The twins’ mother whispered, while most people surrounding the fire were watching. Both 5 year olds nodding their heads, Y/n continues, “This is Ellen and Jim, they’re Jack’s parents.” The woman says, directing their attention to her right where Ellen and Jim sat. Both children mumble a quiet ‘Hi’ back. “And that’s Quinn, Jack’s other brother.” The same routine continued on, the two successfully convinced all that they were shy. Until Eli walked up to Trevor and sat on his lap, mischief must detect mischief, but Abby stuck to sitting with her mom. Scoping out who here will be her best friend.

“Hun, I need to put sunscreen on you.” Y/n said, trying to reason with her son. She already got Abby ready, Abby was only difficult getting ready if she had a reason to be, Eli however was difficult just because it was fun.

“No!” “Baby, if you don’t put this on you’re gonna get burnt just like Lia did last summer remember? She could barely move, do you want that to happen to you.” “No..” The boy mumbled, accepting defeat and lifting his arm for his mom. “Thank you.”

“Jacka, what we doing today?” Abby was going through a phase of adding ‘a’ to random words in her sentences leading to her giving Jack the new nickname. While the young girl was letting Jack put on her shoes, the man answered her question excitedly and lifting the girl off the bed and onto the floor, “Going on the lake today!” “On boat?” “Yes ‘on boat’.” “Momma we going on boat” She repeated for her mom, even though the woman was a foot away from her and already heard it. “Maybe, hunny. Not for sure. Okay! You’re both ready, how ‘bout you guys go downstairs and help Ellen with snacks?” “Okayyy!” “Okay-a!” Both children yell, running out of the room.

Once they were excited, Jack pushed the bedroom door closed and walked over to his girlfriend. In the time that they’ve been dating, when the twins are around you take any time alone together you can get. Leaning down only slightly Jack gently presses his lips to Y/n’s, her immediately kissing him back. Her hands went around his neck, his own resting on her lower back just above her ass.

Breaking apart Y/n whispers against his mouth, “Okay, ready?” “Yep” he says, stealing a quick peck before exiting the room himself.

“I spy… Something invisible.” Eli announces, turning from looking all around him to looking at Trevor and Cole. “What’s invisible?” the taller boy asked, he’d been taking the game pretty seriously and Eli just threw a curveball at him. “Dude, I don’t know!” Before the two could embarrass themselves, Eli stepped in, “The air!!!” “Oh! Duh!” “Good one, man!”

This was too complex for Eli’s brain but he often latched onto male figures in his life; of course he had Lia’s dad but he didn’t see him often, so not having one for himself, he loved Jack and his friends, they gave him what he didn't have.

Y/n was watching the three play eye spy from her spot on Jack’s lap. And checking over at Ellen and Abby playing ‘Go Fisha’ as Abby calls it. After a moment of Jack not having her full attention, he brings his right hand from the woman’s lower back to rub her upper thigh, grabbing her attention once again.

“You okay?” “Yeah.” Y/n says, a smile from ear to ear spreading across her face. She is so happy. Having Jack, and people besides herself and the people she considers family (Lia and her parents) caring about the twins I was something she wasn’t sure she would ever feel. Last night even, Y/n put the kids to bed and Eli asked her if Jack was going to be their dad, it almost made her cry on the spot. But what did make her cry happy tears was that her answer, not that she spoke it to Eli, was closer to a ‘yes’ than a ‘no’.

“Yeah, I’m really happy.”

~taglist~

@yabbadabbawhosposts @mallory78 @fulla02 @mostellasm

#jack hughes x teen mom!reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x fem reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x girlfriend!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #hughes brothers #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

Note

Thinking about a fake dating scenario like say Sweets family is always bothering her about not dating anyone and she lies and says “actually I am seeing someone!” But then they ask to meet the person so now she has to find someone ti be her fake date. I would imagine the boys would be fighting each other for a chance to do that.

I know this is super random haha I’m just talking to talk at this point.

YES! AND RANDOM IS GOOD 👏👏 talk the talk and walk the walk babes! Any ideas you have SPEAK ON IT!!! 💓

But omg you're right, they would

Sweetheart walked in the living room, where the team was sitting on the couch drinking beers. She was talking on the phone as she walked past them to the kitchen, not even noticing the boys.

And she's talking to her mom about her love life. Saying "Yes ma! I will bring him this time!" And "You can tell Danni to shut the hell up cause he is real". And then she says love you and hangs up the phone.

Sweetheart, looking at everybody:

The boys looking at her:

Sweetheart: Okay who wants to be my boyfriend for the day

then they all say M E

And all hell breaks loose 💀💀

Soap: What tae FUCK do y'mean 'mE', Ghost?

Ghost: the fuck do YOU mean 'mEaH', Mactavish?

Soap: I SAID ME

Ghost: nah see-- you did it again. 'MeAh'. It's two letters.

Soap: AH WULL PUMPIN' BREAK YE YAH BRITISH CRUMPET

Sweetheart: uhm, guys?

Gaz: Bitch don't even try

Horangi: And why should I listen to you?

Gaz: You get a nose bleed everytime Sweets hugs you.

Horangi: WHAT?? HOW DO-- HOW CAN YOU EVEN SEE THAT I WEAR A MASK

Gaz: it drips under it, bruv. And I don't think her parents want to witness an extremely touched starved man get an aneurysm everytime their daughter touches him.

Sweetheart: GOOD LORD GAZ--

Horangi: OH YOU THINK YOU'RE SO MUCH BETTER? YOU CRY EVERYTIME SWEETHEART TELLS YOU A GOOD JOB

Gaz: YO I DO NOT-

Ghost: He cries when Capitan says it too.

Horangi: THAT TOO

Gaz: GHOST STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS

Price: You cry when I tell you good job?

Sweetheart, kinda touched but concerned: And you cry when I say it too?

Gaz: UHM- SIR I-- WELL SWEETS YOU-- FUCK

Krueger: Ignoring the emotionally unstable man--

Gaz: HEY

Krueger: You should take me, Kleine Göttin.

König: Don't, Sweets. You'll never return if you do

Krueger: König what the fuck

Krueger: You can't even talk your way into getting gas at a gas station, you think her parents want to see you freeze like a tortoise having sex when they talk to you?

König: AT LEAST I DONT SNIFF ANY SEATS SWEETHEART WAS IN

Krueger: THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS

König: IT HAS E V E R Y T H I N G TO DO WITH THIS

Sweetheart: Krueger-- YOU DO WHAT

Ghost: He also sniffs your hair

Sweetheart: You do that too, Ghost

Ghost, stares at Krueger: Not while you're sleeping.

Sweetheart: KRUEGER????

Krueger: GHOST SHUT THE FUCK U P

Alejandro: Please don't take Krueger, mama. He would end up in prison

Krueger: (angry German words)

Alejandro: You can take me! They'll love my charm.

Price: What, so you can flirt your way out of personal questions they'll most definitely ask you?

Ghost: Especially with that five-palm forehead you got

Alejandro: CÁLLATE LA BOCA DECORACIÓN DE HALLOWEEN

Rudy: Price, you have no say in this matter. You can practically be her father's golfing buddy.

Sweetheart: uhm, my dad doesn't golf--

Price: I'm 37 you fucking Muppet

Sweetheart: nevermind.

Rudy, surprised: Really?? Damn I didn't know that! You just looked like one of Super Mario's long lost cousins to me because of the janitor mustache you have on your old body

Price: Mother fucker--

Ghost: I don't think you would do well either when you look like a human gopher

Rudy: GHOST WHERE DO YOU KEEP COMING FROM

Alex: ROACH OW STOP HITTING MY FACE

Roach on Alex's shoulders:😠 pap-pap-pap-pap-pap-pap (like a fucking cat)

Sweetheart, rubbing her temples: Oh my fucking GOD- I'LL JUST CHOOSE MYSELF THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG AND GAZ LOOKS LIKE HES ABOUT TO CRY

Gaz, tearing up: I AM NOT

Soap: Me!

Horangi: It's me!

Graves, picking his nails:

Graves: It's probably not me.

Keegan: Uh... If it's no trouble, you can take me. I have to give your brother his game boy back anyway

Everyone looking at Keegan:

Soap: w u t

She takes Keegan.

(He honestly had a good time! Yes, he did start a fire with her siblings accidentally but other than that her parents loved him. Sweetheart sent pictures to everyone and omg they were so SALTY SAD AND JEALOUS. Ghost kinda smiled at a picture with Sweetheart and Keegan together, Keegan's face without the mask and grease paint wearing a nervous but kind smile. He looks happy. The others don't but they'll get over it someday💀💀)

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

ღ this barbie is a race car driver

"did you hear who honda signed?"

"yeah, the daughter of the guy who owns the team."

"what's that about? can she even race?"

"that's what she claims, according to honda's team principal."

"i reckon they just said that cause she's the boss's daughter."

a pair of heels clicking against the polished ground makes the men huddled in a circle collectively turn their heads. the overwhelming clad of pink makes some of them raise their eyebrows: a baby pink dress peeking through her dark pink jacket.

"fans aren't allowed back here," max says hesitantly with a small smile.

"we can take a picture, if you'd like," lando grins, stepping forward. "have you got a phone on you?"

the woman tilts her head. her eyes are big as she stares at the crowd of men in front of her with her shiny lips puckered unknowingly. she furrows her eyebrows slightly, making alex suck in a deep breath.

great, another fan who will villainise them for pushing them out of a restricted area, is all alex could think.

they watch as she takes a deep breath. she perks up with a wide smile, throwing her head back dramatically. she waves her hand in the air with a laugh. "no, silly! i drive for honda," she says with a grin. "you must be lando! and, max, right?"

lando's eyebrows shoot up in shock. a small smile stretches his lips. "oh, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to–"

"it's no problem!" she giggles, scrunching her nose at lando. "we never met so that's okay!"

she introduces herself and extends her arm out to them with a grin. "congrats on all the titles!" she says to max with a smile. she turns to george with a grin. "i love the hilfiger sweater. i can't seem to find one in my size when i went shopping yesterday."

"uh," george trails off, glancing at alex briefly before looking at her again. "i can try and get you one. no promises, though."

"right," max grins. he points further into the hallway. "the driver's briefing is the last door on the right."

"of course!" she claps excitedly. "it was nice meeting you! i'll see you guys later!"

she waves at them excitedly, earning herself a chorus of dull and monotonous goodbyes and unenthusiastic waves.

alex points at her figure walking down the hall. "very barbie."

"ah, that's who she reminded me of!"

taglist: @angsthology @cashtons-wife @darleneslane (comment to be added)

#max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #george russell x reader #alex albon x reader #disneyprincemuke sd #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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alexbrainrot · 8 months

Text

new pants / smut

sdv alex x afab reader

“hey farmer girl.. did you get new pants? you’re doing something right.” alex called out as you walked past him towards the library. you decided to ignore him and continued walking, you knew he was smirking to himself after making that comment. you were used to this by now.

you were wearing new pants, jeans actually. you went to the city last week to buy some durable jeans for all your heavy farm work, and you came across these, which fit you perfectly and happened to hug you in all the right areas. although you were somewhat flattered he noticed, you didn’t have anything to say to him.

you were indifferent towards alex. sometimes he was kind, giving you cookies his grandmother baked or helping you carry wood back to your house but other times he acted cold, brushing you off when you would greet him in front of others.

he was confusing, and it was hard trying to strengthen your friendship when he acted that way.

you hadn’t talked to him in a few days now, and this comment about your pants was the first interaction between you two in a while, although it was hardly an interaction.

you hated that his inappropriate comments secretly made you blush. you pretended to hate them, when in reality, your cheeks would heat up and your breath would quicken. you couldn’t deny his attractiveness, no matter how much he annoyed you. when he first started to slip in comments about your appearance or your body you became noticeably flustered, and you know that he noticed. you didn’t mind his words, although you did hate when he wouldn’t pay attention to what you were saying, too busy looking you up and down.

once you got inside the library, you greeted gunther and made your way towards the back in search of a certain book. it was pretty quiet, the only other people inside the library were elliot and penny. you had been searching for your book for a few minutes now and you were about to give up before spotting it in the lower middle shelf wedged in between two huge novels. as you bent over, you suddenly felt someone come up behind you, their body was pressed up against you and one hand was on your waist.

you gasped and quickly looked behind you to be met with alexs dark green eyes staring down at you. he put one finger up to his soft pink lips signaling you to be quiet. you were about to stand back up before his strong hands firmly gripped your waist.

“down” he whispered. you were still looking back at him with your eyes wide, curious as to what he was trying to do. you let go of the book and instead placed your hands on the shelf in an attempt to steady yourself. his hands were roaming your body, caressing your thighs and your stomach. his bulge was pressed up against your ass and you felt yourself becoming more aroused by the minute.

“alex.” you breathed out.

“shhh” he snapped at you.

“be quiet, unless you want them to see us.”

with that, you didn’t speak another word and instead waited for alex’s next move. he started to hump you from behind, rubbing his restrained cock up and down your ass. he bit his lip, trying to not make any noise, but fuck, was it hard. ever since he saw you wearing those jeans he couldn’t help but imagine ripping them off of you and fucking you right there. he became impatient and started to pound against you, making noticeably more noise. his eyes started to screw shut, he didn’t care about anyone catching you two anymore, he was becoming lost in the pleasure.

your panties were becoming soaked. the way that he looked, getting himself off and using you made you clench your thighs even more. the fact that you were both fully clothed and yet here you two were, becoming a mess for each other turned you on. he leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear.

“fuck, you’re driving me crazy. you don’t know how many times i’ve fisted my cock to the thought of you.” he planted an open mouthed kiss on your neck and you moved his hand that was on your hip up underneath your top.

“please touch me alex, please.” you whined.

he realized that you weren’t wearing a bra today and began fondling your breasts. he pinched your nipple, causing you to let out a small whimper. his pace was quick now, desperate to reach his high. finally his hips stuttered and he paused, a low grunt escaping his lips. you could feel his heavy breathing as his body hugged yours. you two stayed like that for a while before you finally stood back up, facing him.

you noticed the wet patch on his jeans and he did too, glancing down at himself and then up at you. he suddenly felt shy, different from the alex who was humping you as if you were merely a toy just a second ago. you bit your lip and unbuttoned your jeans. he stared at you with his mouth agape. your hand gently grabbed his and placed it into your jeans, underneath your panties. you gasped once his cold fingers brushed against your cunt.

“i want to feel good too lex, can you help me?” you whispered as you looked up at him. he nodded, barely registering what was going on, his mind clouded with you and only you.

his fingers prodded at your clit, rubbing slow circles. his eyes watched as you buried your face into his chest, trying to keep quiet.

you glanced up at the clock, it was almost four now.

“shit, we have to hurry lex, please hurry.” you breathed out.

his fingers started to rub your clit relentlessly, the sounds of your wetness filled the library, it would be impossible for anyone to not hear.

“cum all over my fingers, baby.” he whispered and your hand clung onto his t shirt as you moaned against his chest and let go, your arousal drenching his fingers. you heard someone’s feet shuffling in your direction and quickly tried to recollect yourselves, zipping up your jeans and attempting to fix your appearance. alex stood behind you, like a little kid trying to hide after getting in trouble, although he was significantly taller than you. you both jumped when gunther peeked over.

“we’re closed guys.” gunther simply stated, his finger pointing towards the clock. he had a stern look on his face.

“we were just on our way out gunther, don’t worry” you replied.

“good. handle your business at home next time. i don’t want to ban you two from coming in here again, it won’t look good.”

you and alex stared at each other, your faces were cherry red. you quickly nodded and hurried out with alex’s hand in yours. he didn’t let go,he loved how intimate it was. his heart was beating rapidly and he felt like he was floating. you walked him to his house and were about to bid him goodbye until his grandmother opened the door.

“oh! it’s the sweet farmer! come on in honey! we’d love to have you over for dinner.” she beamed at you and ushered you in before you could even say a word.

alex laughed nervously, walking behind the both of you. it was going to be a long night.

#stardew valley #sdv fic #stardew valley fic #drabble #stardew fanfic #stardew x reader #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #stardew smut #alex stardew valley #alex sdv #stardew valley alex #stardew valley alex smut #sdv alex smut #sdv alex fic #fem!farmer #stardew valley x afab reader #sdv alex x afab reader

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joekeeryswife · 3 months

Text

angel baby - a.t

hello everyone! first Alex imagine and of course it is a dad one lol. i feel like that’s all i’m good at writing. here is holding his daughter for the first time, probably has some mistakes. short and sweet, enjoy🩰

he had no idea he could love something so much. his heart felt like it had exploded. he loved you of course but this, this was a different kind of love.

“my angel, we have been waiting for you” he cradled her, his eyes darting across the newborns face as she slept peacefully.

his finger softly stroked her cheek, she newborns cheek twitched slightly, obliviously it had tickled her. he was in awe.

“god you look like your mum. she has said from day one that you’d look like me but deep down i knew you’d be as beautiful as her” he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

you were sleeping soundly on the bed across from the pair, a difficult labour had worn you out and Alex had begged you to get some rest even though you didn’t want to you obliged.

“your mummy had a very hard labour with you, i was so scared but now you’re here and you’re both safe. it still doesn’t feel real” it was true, it was fairly known that Alex had his fair share of girlfriends in the past.

he didn’t even know if he’d wanted to be a dad but that all changed when he met you. as soon as he laid his eyes on you he knew that you were the one he was meant to marry and create a family with.

you were quite a bit younger than him, him being 38 and you being 28 made people talk but he didn’t care. he loved you and no amount of hate comments would change that.

“i can’t believe i am your dad” he didn’t know why but he could feel himself welling up. just looking at this perfect angel that he and you had created just blew his mind.

the baby shifted in his arms, a small stretch and a yawn followed. she slowly blinked, her dark eyes matching his. she was only five hours old, probably wondering where the hell she was but their eyes locked and a few tears fell down his cheeks

“hi sweet girl, look at you with your eyes open already” he shifted slightly, getting himself more comfortable in hospital chair.

he sniffled “you have got so many people excited to meet you princess. you’re the first grandchild, you’re going to be so spoilt”

his parents where getting older and with him being the only child he wanted them to have at least one grandchild to carry on the Turner name.

his mother had been ecstatic when she found out she was going to be a grandma, and she was even more excited when she found out it was a girl.

she had knitted all different hats and blankets for the baby, her room was filled with clothes and toys they had bought because this was a huge deal to them.

alex heard you stir as you slept, he finally took his eyes off of his baby girl to check if you were okay. you had a traumatic labour, baby girls heart rate had dropped as you were pushing and as you pushed her out you got quite an awful tear leading to you getting 24 stitches.

you didn’t wake up, only stirring to get in a more comfortable position and Alex watched you until you stopped fidgeting to make sure you were okay.

after what happened, Alex knew he would do everything in his power to make you as pain free and stress free as possible. he turned his attention back to the small newborn in his arms. the two of you had discussed names, some being too unique, some not being unique at all and some being just boring but finally after nearly a full blown argument about her name you had picked one which suited her perfectly.

“now i know that you’re a newborn and you’ve literally just entered the world but we need to stick together and make sure that your mama has no stress. you’ve got to be the most perfect newborn ever. she had a very difficult time bringing you into this world” he leant back into the chair and adjusted the baby carefully in his arms.

she looked at him, eyes blinking slowly as she looked up at her father “yeah, you’re looking confused now but you definitely know who i am. i used to speak to you all the time when you were in there” your daughter already had thick brown, curly hair under her pink hat the hospital gave you.

“you know, you really are one of the most beautiful things i have ever seen in my life and i have seen quite a few pretty things in my lifetime” he lent down to press a small, sweet kiss on her forehead. “i’ll never let anything happen to you angel. i love you so much Posie”

#fanfiction #imagines #alex turner #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner masterlist #alex turner fluff #alex turner imagines #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #alex turner dad!#dad!alex turner #alex turner x reader imagines #arctic monkeys x reader #arctic monkeys #arctic monkeys imagine

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ferociousmochis · 8 months

Note

HEY GIRL! so so so happy you are back bby <3

Can we get some soft Alex? Maybeee childhood friends trope, but Alex was an ass and now he wants her bad? Also virgin reader if possible xx

Regrets and Roses

Alex Turner X Fem!Reader

Warnings: long ass story bit, fingering, multiple orgasm, penetrative sex (p in v), a little bit of sad stuff, oral (fem receiving), praise, virgin reader

It was never one of those "love at first sight" stories, in fact, love was out of the question, or so you thought.

You and Alex had known each other practically your entire lives. Your moms were best friends, so you'd subsequently grown up together. You were sandbox friends, spending weekends in each other's gardens, while your mothers sipped tea on the patio. They always playfully joked about how you’d surely get married one day.

But, that's not to say that you always got along.

Alex always teased you, especially in high school. The truth is you'd had a desperate crush on him when you were younger, and when he became too cool for you, it broke your heart. You knew you would never be one of the glamorous girls he took to school dances or the models in the magazines he flipped through with his friends. Alex wasn't the most popular guy, but he still had some merit and always a girl or two on his arm.

Of course, you couldn’t possibly imagine telling him how you felt. However, you never were quite able to hide your feelings, always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It was almost sadistic how he knowingly played with your emotions every chance he got. Every family function was torture knowing he would always be there, pestering you to no end.

As time passed you both grew up and the past faded away. You both occasionally crossed paths at first but once Alex’s career took off you veered off in completely different directions, following your passions. You weren't surprised when Alex became the world-renowned superstar he always wanted to be. The lifestyle suited him, at least the hair gel and the groupies did for sure.

You'd opened a little flower shop on the corner by your childhood home. You lived and breathed it. It was everything you'd ever dreamed of as a little girl materialized before you. You worked day and night tending to your greenhouse and working on arrangements.

Alex quickly learned being a rockstar wasn’t all it was choked up to be. I mean sure he adored it, traveling the world and sharing his passion with roaring crowds who fell at his feet but the trail of broken relationships and drunken hookups he left behind him solidified his feelings of loneliness. It became impossible to find a genuine connection; the screaming people out in those crowds, the girls in his bed each night, and every new face he met knew him as Alex Turner this sultry rockstar stage creation he’d made for himself like a beautifully decorated mask. He tried to fill the gaps but that was hardly possible.

Despite his busy schedule, he always made time to reach out to his parents back home. His mother called often, still always worried about him traveling so often so when the phone started to ring he already figured out who would be on the other line. The sun prodded harshly through the loosely drawn curtains, illuminating his bedroom in an orange glow. Rolled over strenuously, the soft white sheets falling from his bare chest. His head was pounding, a reminder of the night's activities, along with the unknown woman stirring beside him. He rubbed his temple harshly before picking up the phone. “Good morning, dear!”, his mother chirped on the other line. He managed a groggy greeting in response, prompting his mother to reprimand him for not getting enough sleep.

She loved to chat. Most times he thought she just loved the sound of her own voice, but he always indulged her, knowing how much she missed having him around. She was going on about her flower beds when she mentioned a name in passing that he hadn’t heard in years. “Y/N L/N?”, he inquired. “Yes of course?” She replied matter-of-factly, before resuming whatever trivial topic she was babbling about. The memories struck him like a brick to the back of the head. You hadn’t crossed his mind in a long time.

He recalled your first day of high school together, the way you blushed every time he looked in your direction. You were always so sweet and tender. How you waited to walk to school with him that morning, and how he left you at your doorstep as he went about with his new friends,

The time he flirted with you just to get answers for that week's math assignment,

The time he brought his latest fling to your family’s dinner party just for laughs.

He winced at the memories and the many more that followed. The guilt weighed on him for how horribly he treated you. Yet you were always there at his beck and call, despite each cruel act. Your only crime was loving him and not meeting his standards. Maturity smacked him in the face as he was forced to face the reality of his actions.

“How’s Y/N?” he blurted. His mother was caught rather off guard by the question, “Well her shop’s doing fantastic, you know she's just so sweet, she helps me prune the hydrangeas every spring-”. “Her shop?”, he questioned. “Her flower shop, dear”, his mother replied confusion lacing her tone. He couldn’t help the smile that crept up his lips. You always loved flowers, meddling about in your front garden with his mother and your own.

Consumed by his thoughts, he could hardly concentrate on his mother’s ramblings. He couldn’t help but type your name into the search bar, he had to see how you were doing. A social media profile popped up, but the photos simply had to be someone else. Yet they had your name scrawled on each one. You weren’t the shy nerdy teenager anymore. Your once geeky appearance turned soft and divinely feminine. You were inexplicably beautiful. He sat in shock for a moment, a dumbfounded expression hanging over his face. Your warm smile sat illuminating his phone screen, his eyes flicked back to the woman in his bed. Truthfully he didn't even know her name, she was a reflection of his lifestyle. Extravagant pleasures felt empty and meaningless without someone special to share them with.

Your cute little shop was tagged just under your name, he couldn’t help himself.

When the order came in you were positively shocked. You quite literally lept for joy, your small shop certainly held its own but this was the largest order anyone had ever put a request in for; 10 large bundles of baby pink roses, each tied with a white ribbon. You set the date for two weeks from now and joyfully began fluttering about your greenhouse

Your nerves pricked with excitement as you jumped out of bed. Today was the day you were expecting the big client and you were ecstatic, to say the least. You'd been in contact with them for a few weeks now and they had insisted on meeting in person to take a look at some of your rose color variations and check up on the progress you’d made. They detailed in their email that they'd been planning a lavish event of sorts and it would be incomplete without your large collections of sweet, colorful roses.

You almost skipped through the door, flipping the closed sign resting on the doorframe to open. The start of your day was pretty standard. Mr Atkinson stopped in like clockwork every Sunday. “Your usual?”, you smiled handing him the prepared bundle of lilies and baby’s breath. “Until the Mrs. gets tired of me”, He chuckled, his cheerful wrinkly smile always warmed your heart. Just as you turned back to the old man you caught a glimpse of him. A vision trick of the past.

The soft, familiar sound of your delicate laugh melted him almost instantly as he set foot in the door. His demeanor remained confident until he saw you look back at him. When your eyes met he saw the color drain from your face, a sight that felt like a punch to the gut. You tried to shake your nerves as you resumed your conversation, saying farewell to the old patron. You turn back to face him, feigning a smile. “I’m here for a large order of arrangements..”, he trailed off, you were more beautiful in person. Your cheeks were rosy and your hair looked so soft, he couldn’t help but be infatuated with you. “Right this way sir”, you nodded plainly.

As you lead him through the little shop, he takes note of everything. The scattered pots and vases, the colorful flowers, and the sweet scent of fresh blooms in the air. It all brought back memories of when he used to tease you relentlessly for loving them so much. His heart aches with guilt and regret. “You seem quite famous around here nowadays,” he asks hesitantly, trying not to stare too much at your beauty. “I’m hardly famous, sir, I believe you’re the celebrity out of the two of us”, You respond politely. The formalities stung. It was as if you’d severed all ties with him, refusing to even use his name. You lead him back into one of the greenhouses with the many bundles of roses strewn about the tables.

“Well even if you’re not famous to everyone else, you’re certainly famous to me” He replies sincerely, “Your flower arrangements are truly amazing.”. “Thank you sir”, you quietly replied. You were almost afraid to say his actual name, it brought back too many painful memories from your childhood.

He watches as you carefully place the last of each individual flower into its respective spot within the arrangement. The sight of your delicate hands working so gracefully fills him with a mixture of longing and regret. He loved sharing his music with the world, he wasn’t sure if he could ever get enough of the rush, but he couldn’t shake the itch of what could've been had he stayed behind and lived a simple, peaceful life with you. “You know.. I never thought I would come here today,” he admits quietly, unable to keep the sadness from creeping into his voice. “But seeing you like this..”, he continued, “I wish things could have been different”.

You almost grew angry, feeling like he had the audacity to say such things after everything he put you through. “Well, sir, you certainly made things this way”, you reply coldly, keeping your composure even. His heart sinks at your response, and he knows your right. He should have reached out sooner before he left Sheffield, but fear and pride held him back. “I know I wasn’t the best person back then, Y/N” he admitted shamefully, “I can’t even begin to apologize for the pain and humiliation I’ve caused you.. I want to be better- seeing you like this makes me want to be better, I’ll make amends in any way I possibly can.”. “I’m not sure if that’s possible now, Alex”, your tone of voice wasn’t angry or aggressive, if anything it was tired and saddened.

His eyes meet yours, and they brim with genuine remorse, “Maybe not fully, but I want to try anyway,” he says earnestly, taking a small step closer to you, “I want to make things right between us”. “I gave you that chance many years ago, and you burnt me”, You sighed, averting your eyes, “You left scars on my heart that will never fade, I’m not sure I can open myself up like that again”. He takes another step towards you, his expression pleading. “Please give me another chance, Y/N”, his voice cracks slightly as he speaks, revealing the depth of his emotions, “Let me show you I’ve changed, that I’m not the same person I was before.”

Years ago you would’ve given everything to hear him say that, but now you hardly know what to say. “I-I don’t know”, you manage to stutter out. He reaches out and gently touches your arm, his fingers lingering against your skin. “Please..”, he whispers, his voice dripping with vulnerability, “give me the chance to prove I’m worthy of your forgiveness”.

You think about it for a few seconds. Maybe he’s different now, you suppose it won’t hurt to find out for yourself. “Okay”, you sigh, “I’m free after I close up here”. He perks up instantly, looking like a kid on Christmas, “My hotel is just up the street, the bar has some half-decent food?”. You accept, biting back the ghost of a smile threatening to creep upon your lips. He nods gratefully, “Thank you, Y/N”.

The workday flies by as a mixture of anxiety and anticipation consumes your thoughts. You walk home, opening your door with a soft sigh. You sat at your vanity, styling your hair for the night, decorating it with a simple ribbon. You painted your cheeks with a light blush and fluffed out your eyelashes with some mascara. You picked out a dainty white sundress littered with small flowers. The material was light and soft against your skin, making you feel almost as if you were floating with each step. When going through your closet you spot a dainty matching set of lace underwear. With a small smile, you took it out deciding you wanted to feel extra pretty tonight, even if no one else got to see them. Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe the way you're feeling, you certainly hadn’t expected the day to unfold the way it has. You slip on some heels and grab your purse before slipping out the door.

You yelp, startled, as you bump into him. He feels awful, grabbing hold of your forearms to steady you. “I’m so sorry!”, he gasped. He was wearing a linen, baby blue button down with the first couple buttons unclasped, a pair of dark trousers, and leather dress shoes. He held a single daisy in his hand, your favorite. He smiled a warm goofy smile, the small flower adding a gentle touch of charm to his already charming demeanor. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist stopping by to escort you over”, he explains, holding out the flower towards you.

You blush at the gesture, accepting the delicate flower. Perhaps he really has changed. You walk down the street side-by-side as he cracks some bad jokes and talks about the people you used to know. A faint smile spreads across your lips as you loosen up to the idea of being around him once more. As you chat about old friends and acquaintances, he can sense the lingering tension starting the fade away from your body language. His own nerves began to ease with yours, and soon you’re both laughing and enjoying each other company from cozy barstools.

“So tell me,” he asks, leaning forward with genuine curiosity, “what brings you the most happiness since those days?”. “Nothing too exciting, but I enjoy the simplicity of being a florist. You know I always loved tending the garden”, You smile, siping a martini. He nods understandingly, appreciating your passion. “That's wonderful”, he replies, taking a sip of his own drink, “it must be incredibly rewarding to create something so delicate and breathtaking”. “You could say that”, you smile. His sincerity appears so genuine, making it easy to forget who he used to be. His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, it feels as if time stands still. In that moment, he truly sees you.

He swallows hard, trying to find the words to express how deeply moved he is by the person you’ve become in his absence. "You're truly amazing, Y/N," he says softly, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, "I can't believe how far you've come.". The contact makes you nervous like a teenager on their first date, “Thank you, Alex”. “And thank you for giving me the time of day, even when I didn’t deserve it”, his eyes are full of emotion as he gazes into yours, seeking reassurance and validation of the newfound connection you’ve established. You remain speechless at his response. Noticing your silence, he sucks in a deep breath and continues, "I promise to do everything in my power to prove to you how sorry I am for the way I treated you.", His voice is raw with vulnerability and honesty. Alex has always been poetic, always having a way with words. It was one of the things that made you fall for him years ago. You smile back warmly, nodding in response.

You spent the night chatting over drinks and mediocre food. Hours upon hours had passed and as the dusk faded into night, you found yourself alone in the corner of the dark, empty bar. The more intoxicated you both get, the more he grows curious about what you’ve been up to while he's been gone. "Have you been seeing anyone since.. well since I left?", he asked. You thought back to the many hands you’ve rejected throughout the years, "Well no, I've just been trying to focus on the business I suppose..". He seems relieved to hear that you haven’t settled for someone else during his absence, and his expression softens further as he takes your hand in his again. "Well I'm glad to hear that," he says honestly, squeezing your hand gently. "Because if there's one thing I know for certain right now, it's that I never want to lose you again.", his eyes hold a depth of sincerity and longing that speak volumes about the feelings he's harboring.

You nervously shift, “Alex.. I still am not completely sure about this”. He looks at you intently, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "I understand that it might take some time for you to trust me again," he says gently, "But all I ask is for the opportunity to prove myself to you along the way. To show you that I've really changed". “Okay,” you agree cautiously, a small smile painted on your lips. His face lightens up once more with relief and excitement, and he leans in close, pressing a tender kiss on your lips. "Thank you," he whispers against your mouth, "For giving me another chance.". This gesture causes your cheeks to burn a bright red “Please know that I cherish this moment and every moment we share from now on”, he brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead with tenderness, before placing another gentle kiss on your cheek.

You look into his eyes, filled with intense emotion and the overconfidence of alcohol. Love from the past bursting through the many walls you’d built around your heart. For the first time, you can see your feelings reflected in his eyes. You take a shaky breath before you cup his cheeks, pulling his lips to yours.

At the touch of your lips on his he responds eagerly, wrapping his arms around you and deepening the kiss. The intensity of your connection is palpable, and it feels like time has stopped as you explore each other's mouths with growing passion. When you finally break apart for air, you both gasp for breath, your faces flushed and hearts racing. You glance around at the quiet room before turning back to him, your eyes projecting your desires, “I never got over you, you know”. His eyes widen in surprise at your admission, he hesitates for a moment before asking softly, "Really? But...after everything I did to you?". He can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and confusion as he processes what you’ve just said to him. “It was always you, Alex”, you whisper softly against his lips. As he listens to your words, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him: guilt, happiness, and a profound sense of gratitude. He cups your face in his hands and looks into your eyes, "I don't deserve this," he says honestly, "But I'll do anything to make it up to you." His voice is thick with desire, and he leans in for another soulful kiss, pouring all of his desperate feelings into it.

He breaks the kiss once more, gasping for air, “Come with me,”, he urges, grasping your hand. You follow him closely as he leads you down a winding hallway until you reach his room. Once inside he turns to face you, his eyes burning with lust as he takes in your beauty. He reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, savoring the silky texture beneath his fingertips. "God, you're stunning," he murmurs, "And I can't believe I almost let you go.".

He leans down to capture your lips once more, his kisses deep and hungry. As Your passion intensifies, he leads you over to the bed, setting you up on the soft mattress as his hands mold to your curves. You nervously grasp his wrist, “Alex- I haven’t ever been with anyone..”. You’re shy and embarrassed by the fact, but he responds with understanding and gentleness, “That’s okay”, he reassures, “we don't have to-”. You cut him off as you press your lips to his, catching him by surprise. He moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours as he begins to explore your skin with his hands, learning your curves and contours as you tangle in the darkness. You gasp at the unfamiliar sensation of his hands on your sensitive body.

He watches your reactions, continuing to caress you gently, gradually building up to more intimate touches as he learns what makes you tick. His voice is low and soothing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. “Trust me,” he says softly, “I won’t hurt you”. You slowly undress each other in a gentle mess of kisses and longing touches. With each passing moment, you fall deeper into each other's arms. You reach out to him, your fingertips gliding down his toned chest. He gasps at the touch of your hands on his skin, feeling a surge of heat coursing through his veins. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer, returning the favor by tracing light patterns across the small of your back. “You’re incredible, Y/N”, he whispers, “So perfect”. His hands trail down your back to the curve of your ass, the contact making you whimper quietly. He leans down, capturing your lips once more, his kisses deep and hungry. You kiss back with a newfound sense of confidence. He takes note of your eagerness to please despite your lack of experience. He continues to explore your body with tender care, palming your breasts softly. His fingertips drag down your thighs, “let me show you just how sorry I am”.

He sunk between your thighs, your sickly sweet perfume and the lustful scent of your sex mixed together, tormenting his senses. He couldn't help but bite back a groan when he reached your pretty pink panties, the sight of them made his cock throb. He lifted your hips up towards his face, his lips brushing against the lacey fabric. “You wear these just for me?”, he murmured against you. You released a shaky breath, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as you timidly nodded in reply. God, he couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled back at your shy admission. He kisses you through the fabric, his touch remaining gentle. His warm tongue dragged over the growing wet spot. You weakly prop yourself up on your elbows, just to catch his dark, longing gaze peering over between your legs. The sight alone made you shiver, which paired with the feeling of his hot breath on your skin made your brain short-circuit. He abandons your cunt, lapping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, kissing and licking you all over. His fingers glided up against your panties, the heel of his palm grinding against your sensitive cunt. The friction made you whimper softly into the tension-thick air.

Your sweet sounds prompted him to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs. You’d never felt so exposed, that you couldn’t resist the urge to press your legs together in shame. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl”, He whispered, running his large palms up your legs to meet at your knees. He slowly pulled them apart, admiring your glistening pussy. “So fucking perfect,” he muttered breathlessly. He didn’t waste much time burying himself between your thighs, littering tender kisses across your skin. Soft pecks turned into hot open-mouthed kisses, searching for the bead of your clit. He can feel it throbbing between his lips, like a faint heartbeat against his tongue. It's a feeling unlike anything you’d ever experienced, like lightning bolts firing out of every nerve in your body.

He rolls his tongue around the small bud, giving it special attention before kissing his way down to the pool of wetness at your entrance. Your pussy is practically crying for him. His tongue prods your tight hole as you squirm against him. You whimpered loudly, pressing back against his face. His elegant nose bumped against your clit with each motion and it was perfect, he was perfect. He wants to take it slow with you, push and pull you through all the great things about sex, but you make it so hard for him to control himself. You whine sharply, your clit now more needy than ever and he’s neglecting it- oh you poor thing. He can’t help but groan against you, you’re so fucking wet and needy for him- him, and only him.

He ends the agonizing torture, moving back to your clit as it begs for his undivided attention. He wants to make you climax so hard you see stars. The mere idea of seeing your face all twisted, eyes screwed shut, and jaw hanging slack- it was too inviting to resist. You're so sensitive it takes very little effort to wind you up quickly. He suckles your clit, until your thighs are shaking between his hands. You cry out, unable to suppress the desperate moans slipping past your lips. “Alex..”, you pant, your eyes half-lidded and spilling with desire. “I know, love”, he murmurs against your skin, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your body. He can tell you're getting closer by the second. His hot tongue swirled rough circles against your clit, his knuckles turning white as he holds you against his lips. You feel the tight muscular tension in your abdomen snap suddenly. Your back arches off the mattress and your hands grasp the sheets for stability as you’re body is set aflame. He holds you in place, working you through your first orgasm. You were a writhing, wet mess beneath him, he couldn’t help but swell with pride. “You're doing so good for me, such a good girl”, he praised, planting a kiss on your inner thigh.

He pulled back slightly, admiring his work for a moment. Your pretty pussy was begging for him, but you weren’t ready for that yet. His nimble fingers lightly traced your slit, gathering your slick on his fingertips. His eyes flicked to yours, making sure you were okay before moving forward. Your eyes were droopy with desire, your lips wet and plump, and your hair a sexy mess against his pillow. “Please..”, you choked out, your voice still shaky as you came down from your high. He satisfied your whimpers as he worked his middle finger inside. The stretch stung slightly at first, the cool metal of his ring biting your tender flesh. “God- you’re soaking”, he groaned, adding a second finger with little resistance. His hands were made for you, they filled you so perfectly. His long, dexterous fingers knew just how to make you feel things you hadn’t known were possible. Your chest heaved as he thrusted and scissored deep into you, your gummy walls sucking him right back in each time. He almost wanted to watch you fall apart in his palms, but he would save that for another day. For now, he needed to be inside you more than anything.

Satisfied, he crawls on top of you, your noses brushing against each other as he meets your eye. “I’ll take care of you”, he reassures, his lips brushing against yours. Despite all he did to prep you, you couldn’t be prepared for his size. You felt as if you were coming to pieces as he split you apart on his cock. Tears begin to well up in the corners of your eyes as you try to accommodate him. “Are you alright?”, he asks softly, “If it hurts too much, just tell me, okay?”. He pulls out slightly before pushing back in, repeating the process until he bottoms out. He stalls for a moment, giving your body time to adjust to his size. You grasp his shoulders and nod reassuringly, signaling for him to keep going. He flashes an intoxicating smile and picks up his movements. He showers you with affection and praise. “You’re doing so fucking good, love”, he moans breathlessly, “You feel so good”. You run your nails down his forearms lightly, your mind utterly drowned in this newfound pleasure.

His movements grow more confident and assertive as he gets lost in the sensations of being buried inside you. You squirm beneath him, calling out his name in strained whimpers. He feels your grip on the sheets, seeing the intensity of your expression as you struggle to contain your pretty sounds. He increases his pace, driving himself deeper with each thrust, “Yes.. that's it.. ” he groans, urging you gently, “Don’t hold back- let me hear you.”. The newfound pace makes it impossible to keep quiet. Your eyes roll back as you find yourself moaning and babbling his name like a broken record. You find yourselves completely consumed by each other in a fiery display of desire.

He watches each reaction intently, taking in the effects of his actions on your body and mind. His own arousal intensifies as he witnesses your pleasure. He’s never felt that way with anyone before and he pushes himself harder than ever, determined to bring you to the peak of ecstasy. You feel your muscles tightening, a small knot of energy growing steadily in your belly. He can feel the tension as your body grows rigid. He bites his inner cheek, trying to keep his composure as your cunt tightens around him. With a final surge of energy, he drives himself into you until the crackling heat of his body is toppling over and he can no longer hold back his approaching orgasm. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, whispering your name. Your bodies tremble as you hold each other through your climaxes. You lay together in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of the experience you’d just shared, feeling a connection that transcends words or boundaries.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you under the covers and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Alex?”, you ask quietly. “Yes, Y/N?”, he replies, brushing a thin strand of hair from your eyes. “So,” you began, “What were all those roses really for?”. He chuckled softly, “For you, dear. A bundle for each year I missed-”, he planted a soft kiss on your lips, “-being right here by your side”.

This is so different from the usual so I hope it doesn't totally suck- I'm sorry babes. Thank you for the request tho- I enjoyed the challenge of switching things up!

Not edited, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes!!

Love ya! <3

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