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ceesimz · 13 days

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The Mountain Is You

Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'

Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.

Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.

Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.

If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.

For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.

Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.

"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.

"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."

"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."

"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."

"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."

"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."

"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.

The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.

Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.

You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.

Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!

What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?

Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.

So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.

Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.

Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?

You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.

A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.

"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"

For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.

"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."

"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."

"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."

"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."

And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.

The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.

Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.

When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.

However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.

You:

Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x

Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.

Alexia:

Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x

Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.

And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.

Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.

Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.

When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.

Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.

Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.

Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.

You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.

Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.

Until she did arrive.

The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.

She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.

Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.

The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.

"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.

"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."

"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."

"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."

You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.

"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."

"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.

"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.

"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."

You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?

"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."

She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.

"How are you?"

"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.

"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."

"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.

"I do, I swear."

At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.

She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.

The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.

"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.

"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.

"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.

"Any of it. All of it."

"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"

"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.

"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."

Sorry, what was that?

"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.

"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."

"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"

"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."

"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"

"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."

"Are you okay?" You blurt out.

At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.

"What do you mean?"

Exactly what you guessed.

"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.

"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.

"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."

She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.

"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."

"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.

"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."

"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.

"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"

"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.

Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.

"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.

"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"

Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.

"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"

"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.

"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."

You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.

"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.

"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.

"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.

"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.

"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"

"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."

"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."

"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.

"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?

"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.

Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.

"What's wro-"

"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.

"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"

"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"

"Oh, perdónarme, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.

"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"

And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.

"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."

There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.

It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.

The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.

"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.

"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.

"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."

"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."

"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"

"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."

"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."

"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."

"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.

"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.

"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."

You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.

"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."

"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."

"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."

She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.

"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."

You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.

Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.

Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.

"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.

"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.

"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."

You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?

However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.

"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.

"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.

"Liked the smell, did you?"

"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.

You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.

A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.

"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.

"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."

Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.

"No, I like that you still have it."

You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.

"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.

"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"

"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.

"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."

"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.

"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."

With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.

"I think it's only a matter of time."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso

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antimony-medusa · 9 months

Text

Okay because I keep seeing these posts, I am just gonna cartwheel in here and say something.

It is not inappropriate to be attracted to real people.

Like, entirely setting aside the question of if you think a fantasy character block men is hot, if you are looking at the photos of a real streamer and you've got hearts in your eyes, I can't overemphasize how normal that is. You're good. Don't worry about it.

These people are funny, and they have good voices, and we watch them be entertaining for hours at a time. This is prime real estate for a little crush. And having a crush is fine, the question is about your behaviour once you have a crush.

I am seeing people thinking that having a crush on a streamer means they're dangerously parasocial, or somehow predatory, or abusive, and that ever breathing a word of it is basically sexual harassment. And like, no. Being attracted to real people is not weird. That's arguably less weird than being attracted to fictional characters. The only question is like, once you know that you want to smooch the real person, how do you then treat that person and the people around you?

Seeing a photo of a famous person and thinking "oh hell yeah I want to hold their hand": this is a celebrity crush. I am aroace and I've spent enough time in some people's streams that I start to go "oh man I wonder if they'd like if if we played D&D together" (medusa-flirting). This has happened to regular people looking at attractive famous people probably since someone in the cave man clan was a particularly good hunter and got praise for it. Thoughts in your head don't hurt people. This is fine.

Seeing clips of a famous person and having sexual thoughts about them: this is still a celebrity crush. Your average boring office worker does this with movie stars. Half the people on the bus are doing this with instagram influencers. Runnning a nice r-rated movie in your head is fine, and doesn't hurt anyone. Thoughts in your head still dont' hurt people. This is still fine.

Collecting photos of a famous person and going GOD they're hot to your friends where the famous person won't see it: still a celebrity crush. There is a standing joke in I don't know how many healthy relationships that your partner gets a certain amount of freebies where you could totally cheat if it's Idris Elba, because it's IDRIS ELBA, that's not cheating that's just sense. You can aknowlege someone's sexiness to your friends, and even joke about it, and you're not being predatory, and you're not being inappropriate. Desire is not a crime. People can publically talk about being attracted to a person, and as long as they're not making it that person's problem, they're fine. Having a "hot people" tag on your blog with careful photos gathered from someone's public instagram where they deliberately posted photos of themselves looking hot? I can't over emphasize how fine this is. If people don't want to see hot people on their dash I guess they can unfollow? But you're literally being totally appropriate still.

Getting a nice private group chat with friends who like to talk abouta famous person and talking about how you'd like to knock him up: Look, what else are group chats as adults for? Are you seeing a trend here? As long as you are keeping your attraction to yourself and not making it other people's problem, as long as you're not bothering the real person with it, as long as you aknowledge to yourself that this is never going to happen and this is just a fun fantasy, this is just like, how attraction works. See pretty person, talk about pretty person, have fun with the fictional imaginings you're having— as long as you're not forcing this imagining on someone else, making it their problem, trying to make it real, as long as you know the difference between fiction and real life, you're fine.

Going up to someone's chat and talking about their dick: This is where you cross the line.

Putting NSFW work in someone's fan art tag. Wearing a shirt with porn on it to a meet and greet. Untagging your fanfic so that people who want to read g-rated works about someone are confronted with e-rated works. Asking one of their friends about their relationship status and if they smell good. This is the bad stuff. Don't do THAT. Keep it away from the real person.

The problem is not the attraction, the problem is forcing the attraction on other people. Like, use your brain. There's a segment of attraction that you can put on main, and then there's a segment that you can put on main but you'd better be sure that the person you're talking about is not going to see it, and then there's a segment you should keep for the group chat, but that's just a very basic sliding scale of "how sexual am I being" correlated with "how private am I being about this". If you want to run a full on porn video in your head starring Wilbur Soot, you're not bothering other people with that, you're not being inappropriate. That becomes inappropriate if you are a) putting that in tags where people who don't want to see the porn video would see it b) talking to Wilbur Soot about it. Those are the boundaries. Wait also c) talking to Wilbur Soot's friends about it, don't do that either.

If the person you're attracted to is an adult famous person, like, people being attracted to them is just part of the landscape. I promise an adult celebrity is not sitting in their room being traumatized because people might be thinking about them romantically or sexually. Putting it up in their faces? Bad. Very bad. I hate it. Don't do it. But I see people freaking out about thoughts. Thoughts aren't real. They do not exist in the real world. You can do what you fuckin' want in your thoughts and you are not hurting people.

Like I know we don't want to be inappropriate with streamers, but that doesn't mean that any sexual or romantic thoughts about them are forbidden, or that mild "GOD he's cute" or picspams on main are hurting people, or that off in a closed group of fellow adult enthusiasts you can't be like "so I think streamer would be submissive if I was domming him" and everyone can be like "oh you'd dom him so well". As long as you're keeping it away from people who are bothered by it, you're fine.

Attraction to real people is normal and how attraction works. You're not hurting people if you think they're cute. You're not hurting people if you want to fuck them, either, as long as you're not making them interact with that desire. This is just a simple matter of keeping the higher-rated material away from the people involved.

Attraction to real people isn't inappropriate. You're fine.

#discourse #fandom meta

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anadiasmount · 4 months

Text

what we started - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: based on this request! while you expected it, you didn’t anticipated it for it to hurt this much. when you’re at you’re lowest is it possible for him to lift you back up? to continue his promise of his underlying love for you? even though he's your brother's best friend?

wc: 4.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa🗣️: HAIII!! missed you all! hope everyone spent their breaks and or holidays well spent! here’s a brothers bsf trope fic just bc 🤭 jealous jude and slightly possesive if you squint. bold+italics are lyrics from cool about it by boygenious! i hope you enjoy!🤍

you let out a breath of fresh air, more than thankful to finally get out for winter break. It was a long semester, and don't get started on finals week. you felt like your head would explode any second if you didn't get home in the next hour. no more studying and notes for the next two weeks, just finally getting to sleep in and relax.

the trip home was easy and quick to your surprise, giving you a chance to get some snacks along the way so you could eat while watching a movie later on. you blocked out any noise from outside, listening to the song cool about it by boygenious which played loudly on your phone, was it a good idea even though your head hurt? yes, yes it was.

your eyebrows squinted at the amount of cars parked in the driveway and sidewalk. quickly realizing that your brother's friends and yours were here. you groan inwardly, finally thinking you had a moment of peace but were proven wrong. as much as you loved them, and still a certain individual, you wanted to be alone for the night. just you and your stuffed animals.

before opening the door, a sudden wave of nervousness arrived upon you. your body was telling you to go inside and greet everyone, but then again your head spoke differently and decided to make you overthink. as you reached for the knob you pulled your hand back, was he here? the man you'd avoided since he broke up with you three months ago?

jude. he was all you thought about despite it hurting. he was a forbidden man you couldn't date, made clear by your brother especially. yet that didn't stop you from going to him. to start a relationship that soon went south. not even a year you lasted together. it was all too complicated for you and him. the man you once snuck into your room so you could spend time with, could now be standing inside the door in front of you.

with much bravery and courage, and a little pep talk you unlocked the door and felt the warm air rush upon you. you quickly turned to the rack and took off your scarf and long trench coat, fixing the material so you could avoid the cheers and greetings from your friends behind you. you wiped your hands on your jeans smiling and waving at everyone.

“y/n! you made it!” your friend spoke as she rushed over and almost tumbled you to the ground. “yes i’m here, finally out for the break,” you let out hugging her tight as you still avoided the other faces. you looked around and saw everyone, your heart beating quicker as you locked eyes with familiar brown ones. the ones that taunted your dreams and in real life.

the unwanted memories of when you were together, the first night at the bar where he’d seen you after so long, the sneaking around to avoid getting caught but added a thrill, the late-night kisses mixed with ice cream, going to his home to see his family, and that night he cut things off, leaving you speechless and thinking you were the reason for it. your chest tightened at the familiar memories, blinking away the tears and thoughts of the things that once happened.

met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool. and make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos. ask you easy questions about work and school.

you looked away rapidly, but jude's gaze followed you to where you were now seated on the couch, unable to look away. despite it being only three months, you looked so pretty and beautiful to him, your hair slightly longer than last time, still his y/n. your brother's little sister that he grew up along with. the one he teased and made fun of till he realized that was no longer the case. maturing was realizing that all along it was you that brought out the best in him.

you spoke quietly among with the girls, discussing future plans for the new year, going shopping, to dinner, maybe travel somewhere, and go clubbing to find you a man, your friends words not yours, to which jude clenched his jaw tight. he didn't care if it was only three months, it still bothered him to hear you speak of any man that wasn't him.

jude kept eavesdropping at your conversation with everyone, even though he was playing video games with your brother. “we're so glad you are here! We missed you so much it felt like ages the last time we saw you, since you're either busy with school or alone in your room,” your friend said which made you giggle nervously and play with your charm bracelet.

jude kept quiet but kept sideyeing to see your every move. he knew you didn't feel comfortable, and slightly anxious at the amount of people surrounding you that kept asking you questions. if you were together still, he would have pulled you away from everyone making an excuse to be alone. but that wasn't the case anymore and here he was listening to your quiet and shy voice. “we just ordered pizza and wings. will you be joining us?” ask your friend.

“uhm not tonight. i have plans made already with a uni lad, to go out for celebratory drinks, and i promised him i would go,” you said making your friend let out a small protest, but then gasp. “is he the guy you were telling me about? tall and wavy hair? the finance student?” your other friend asked in a small whisper, to which you nodded slowly and looked away embarrassed.

jude smiled painfully, leaning back onto the couch, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, then biting the inside of his lip. he was having a hard time controlling his facial expressions, eyes digging holes into you, anger and jealousy washed upon him, fighting the urge to call you out. although he had no right to talk as he knew he had done the same and hung out with other girls. yet jude still felt hurt, sick to his stomach picturing a different man in your life, the urge to scream, to punch a wall, or maybe himself to knock sense into him.

i'm trying to be cool about it. feelin' like an absolute fool about it. wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it. tellin' myself i can always do without it. knowin' that it probably isn't true.

you had to lie on the spot, having to accept jax’s invite for drinks. you could no longer stand looking or being in the same room as him. having to feel his eyes on you every minute that passed by. you felt like crying, it was still fairly new to you, but you couldn't even tell your friends because they didn't know about you or jude. You thought you were safe, that you could've handled it, but your body was continuing to process the break up, to hear and see about the girls he hung out with, that looked nothing like you.

you tried to forget, to forget him for the sake of your brother and friend group. however seeing him thrive in another country surrounded by the support you craved angered you. you knew part of the breakup was your fault, for failing to communicate, to be there for him. but what about those times you needed him and he wasn't there? even from the start the signs were there, you just let yourself get involved to finally be happy, to have him, to love him.

but i'm trying to forget about it. feelin' like i'm breaking a sweat about it. wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it. tellin' myself one day i'll forget about it. knowin' that it probably isn't true.

after grabbing a quick drink from the kitchen you walked upstairs to your room, quickly glancing at jude who had a foul scowl on his face, cold eyes, and grim mouth. you debated whether you should go or stay here. your thumb hesitated to text jax and let him know you were going. yet again your body was speaking and letting you know it wouldn't be a good idea.

you felt so out of place and not yourself, the shock of seeing jude still running through your head. you took a seat on the small bench at the end of your bed, head in your hands as you tried to control your breathing and tears that wanted to release. you let out a small gasp at a knock at your door, standing up and wipe away the one tear that let out, being faced with the man you wanted to avoid.

“y/n…” jude's voice was gentle and soft as he said your name, closing the door and locking it. you ignored him, your hands rubbing your arms as you felt locked in. the world went quiet when he was with you, just the two of you longing for each other. “y/n look at me baby…” his voice rasped out as he walked close to you, but you walked back to create a distance. you painfully laugh and glance up, the lights suddenly dim. “you shouldn't be here, collin can walk in at any minute,” you remark.

and now i have to act like i can't read your mind. i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie. but we don't have to talk about it.

“i don’t care. let him walk in.”

“jude-”

“i wanna talk, please? i know this feels strange, trust me i feel the same, but it's what we need,” jude says in a relaxed manner, making you mad at the audacity he had to demand things. “no it's what you need. trust me i'm fine, more than okay at where we currently stand,” you say smiling angrily. jude cocked his head to the side, becoming slightly agitated. “really? you wanna do this? i'm not okay where we stand, if anything i want to fix this, us, for the sake of our friends,” he spits out.

“you want to come in here, and “try” to fix things for our friends?” you quote with your fingers and scoff, “that's the only thing that ever mattered to you! what everyone thinks, your friends, family, your fans, it's all you care about,” you said loudly, running a hand along your forehead and massaging your temples feeling your headache come back.

“seriously, you wanna bring that up right now?” he looked away laughing, before bringing his attention back to you. you rolled your eyes at his attitude, shaking your head and playing with your charm bracelet once again. this was another reason probably, the constant arguments that you had together that made it not work. “you wanted to talk, so yeah i did bring that up.”

“fine let's talk about jack? or was it jax? the finance student you're going out with tonight? how do you want me to be cool about it? how would your brother feel if i told him?” jude crossed his arms, waiting for you to answer as a few moments of silence passed by. “you're being unreasonable. what does that have to do with our friends?” you asked with a face plastered with confusion.

“for starters, he's going to be around us if you date him,” your eyes widened at his words lips pursing open but continued to listen to him. “i think collin would love to know about this as well. and i wanna know who he is. who is this jax?” jude asked carefully furrowing his brows in a questioning manner, but it made you clench your jaw and swallow the hurtful words that wanted to be spilled.

i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning. tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing. even though we know it isn't true.

“you have no right to ask me anything anymore? you broke up with me remember?” you pointed at yourself as you walked closer to him. “i get what i did wasn’t what you expected but do you really want me to sit here and tell you it doesn’t hurt to see you hook up with different girls? it’s a date jude. a date.”

you grabbed your jacket and sighed in disbelief. you wanted to leave as soon as possible, you loved your friends but right now you wanted to be far from jude. even three months after breaking up, it felt freshly new to see him again. it ripped open the old scars and you weren’t used to it. before you could leave, jude stopped you by the door.

“it’s not fair. i used to beg to get your attention, for you to talk to me! all i asked was to talk! a minute out your day, to tell me how you felt to hear your voice! you think it doesn’t hurt me? to see you move on? to hear from our friends, not from you, OUR friends, that you’re going on a date?” jude spit out with fury, and now you were becoming afraid that your friends downstairs would hear you guys. especially collin.

“we didn’t work jude! you said so yourself that night. you didn’t give me a chance for me to explain myself! you thought of you and only you! i’m sorry i couldn’t give you what you wanted, i tried i did! but you were never there!” you said loudly, the bubble in your throat increasing by the second.

“you never gave me the chance. you always had the mindset my brother would find out about us, and that’s the only thing that mattered to you! we couldn’t go out, and when we tried it was always an excuse for each of us. we weren’t meant to be,” you said without of breath, your heart now beating faster.

“so now it’s my fault?” jude scoffed in disbelief, and threw his hands in the air desperately.

“you’re being ridiculous,” you threw your head back in annoyance, “i'm trying to tell you how i feel about it all. it's what you're asking right? for me to be open with you even though it's too late? we both know jude, i don’t know why you keep wasting your time with me. like you said that night, to you i will always be collin’s little sister,” you say, your voice breaking. jude felt like he would break, to see you crying again, he wanted to take it all back, that night back, and fight for you harder.

“y/n-”

“you’ll never understand what’s its like. to not be able to have your voice heard? to be that child that’s just there? to have so many people come over but greet you because they feel forced to. is that why you dated me, because you felt sorry for me?” you asked, jude immediately shaking his head.

a knock came from the door, you and jude quickly glanced at each other worried, “i’m sorry to disturb, but collin came back from outside and he’s asking for you jude,” your friend said with a low voice, giving you a small smile reassuring you she wouldn't say anything about what she heard. “don’t worry, we were just finished, he’s all yours jude,” you said sarcastically, then walked down the stairs as jude chased you after you.

there was still so much to be said, and he didn't want you to leave thinking he was only with you because of that. it wasn’t true, he was with you because he loved you. not because you were his little sister or because he felt sorry for you, but because for once in his life he finally found someone who brought more happiness to him than anyone else could.

“maybe it's for the best,” your friend spoke quietly to him, patting a hand on his shoulder. jude watched you walk out again from his life, this time you weren't standing alone, but instead with a man who could probably give you all you deserved. although he still refused to lay on these terms, no matter who you were with, a part of you will always be linked to him.

“jude hurry up man! the game is starting soon!,” he was forced out of his thoughts, sending a false smile to your oblivious brother. collin had no idea of the two of you, and never suspected anything which made jude’s guilt rise even more. even after repeatedly saying you were off limits, something about you couldn't keep jude away. he knew it was wrong, to fall for his best mate's sister, but why did it feel so right? like you were the person destined to meet jude?

you wouldn’t even give jax a chance even if he was the last man on earth. despite being the perfect match for you, something inside you always loved jude. you had two boyfriends before jude, and the each taught you something. at the early stages with jude, it felt careless, two rebel teens chasing for love. but you wanted security, and you struggled to communicate that, pushing him away because you could never fully speak it or let it be known.

the so-called date went fine, but your mind kept tracing back to seeing jude after three months, him in your room, his tearful eyes watching you leave to be here with jax. it pained you to see him hurt again because of you again. you also knew it wasn't right to lead jax on, to be here so you could escape the curly-headed man that was probably still at your home.

jax did understand though, a man can always sense when a woman isn't interested, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or forced. after a long shared night filled with laughter and deep talks, he kissed your cheek and wished you the best of luck. “If you need anything, please dont hesitate to reach out, okay?” he gave you knowing eyes, making you laugh an nod.

“thank you once again! be safe! and let me know when you are home!” you waved him goodbye and unlocked the door to your home for the second time that evening. it was around eleven pm, the cars that once filled your driveway were gone. you sighed comfortably at the house being silent, thankful the living room was cleaned, and the kitchen besides the dishes.

you still weren't sleepy, as you were used to being up at this time to review material for your classes. you quickly washed them, and also dried a set of laundry to be fixed in the morning. you went upstairs and took a quick shower with hot water to soothe the aching muscles and headache. after changing into a silk camisole, you get startled by the doorbell. You tuck yourself into the covers like a little kid, reaching for your phone as it buzzed.

open the door for me. i'm outside.

you let out a deep breath, quickly slipping downstairs and opening the door letting jude in who was now wearing a full black nike tracksuit. your eyes stared into his intently, feeling your pulse race just by looking at his handsome features. “you’re back again?” you asked quietly walking back upstairs, jude following behind.

“we didn’t get to finish talking. i didn't want to go back to spain the way were,” he replied closing the door and walked over to where you were sat, on the small bench by your bed. you stared at the ground, as jude rubbed his hand on your thigh in a comfort manner. he let out a deep sigh that made you lean your head on his shoulder.

“it wasn’t true. i didn’t date you because i felt sorry for you. i fell over heels for the woman who once in my life loved me for who i was, and gave me the chance to be who i am without caring. i know it seemed like i cared about others, but all i wanted was to protect you from the harm they could do to us. but in the end it was us who caused it,” jude joked which made you let out a stifled small laugh.

“i'm sorry y/n. for what i said to you that night and those past times. if i could take it all back i would. you didn't deserve that, and it hurts me because i'm the reason for it, “ jude said painfully, he struggled to find the words. you pulled back from his shoulder, walking around to sit yourself on his lap, to wipe the tear that escaped his pretty brown eyes. he had been crying before coming here, his eyes sunken and bloodshot red. “don’t cry jude…”

“do you still love me?” he asked unsurely, biting his lip. he looked up almost taking your silence as a painful answer, but was rewarded with you nodding. “so so much, i can’t not stop loving you and its scary because we both live different worlds. those times where you just wanted a small answer and i couldn't give it to you? i'm sorry for making you feel like that, for not making you feel wanted, i thought… i thought…” you sniffled and broke into a small sob, tears coming down your cold cheeks.

“hey, hey, hey, shh baby it's okay… just take deep breaths… it's just me and you okay?” jude gabbed your hands and kissed them gently, “don't blame just yourself, we both faulted our breakup, it wasn't meant to be then, but now that we learned from that we can avoid it,” he said with a small sad smile.

“when you left again, everything felt unexplored and out of place. i sat by my window and lingered for you to come back, like those times you snuck in here… i took lengthier ways to school to avoid the areas we once walked by. i even ate those stupid gummy worms you love so much,” you said sniffling and laughing. “i can’t do that anymore, because i want you back jude. every second that passed by without you, it hurt me. it still does knowing it feels like were strangers again.”

jude's eyes went wild at your admission, “i get that part of it was because i couldn't communicate, and i'm working on that. you just have to trust me and give me some time, it all felt so rushed and sudden, and i thought you cared about them and not me at times,” you finally said after waiting almost a year to say.

“i will always care about you. when i left that night i knew i made a mistake. i felt like an idiot because i know you struggled at times to say what you wanted. and i know i only thought of me but i promise it isnt going to be like that anymore, baby. as long as we can work and talk it out, that's what matters most to us right?” you nodded to his question.

“no more caring about what they think. as long as were both happy and in love, it will keep me sane. that day will come, but when times right,” jude continued referring to telling your friends and brother. “i hope you know i don't regret a single thing of it, for falling in love with you despite you being my best friend's sister,” he smirked. “good because at the end of the day, knowing its forbidden, it feels right being with you like this. here alone where it's just us…” you say shyly.

“my shy girl still hasn't changed has she? still so shy that she can't even look at me properly when i’m trying to admire her beauty,” jude teased you which made you shake your head. “although she wasn't so shy when she left for jack? or was it jax?” jude frowned. “he’s nothing, just an excuse for me to not see you…” you smiled evilly as you confessed.

“so nothing’s going on with you and jack? or jax was it?” he asked teasingly, making you smack his shoulder playfully. “no now stop i before it does become something serious,” you warn him to which he gives you a taken-at-back look. “not while you’re still mine baby… always have been and always will be. let jack or jax know that, ” jude said seriously, kissing your jawline.

you sunk into his warm embrace, feeling at home and safe in his arms. “who would’ve thought i’d be with my brother's best friend huh?” you say feeling his warm soft lips trace from your jaw to your lips. “definitely not me,” jude said shaking his head no, paying attention to the small shiver you released as he kissed your pulse. you had to hold back the small moan that wanted to release at his next words and movements.

“kiss me y/n. exactly how you want and need.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football imagine #football one shot

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ysrjune · 5 days

Text

(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)

also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY

Into You ✦

Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.

Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.

To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.

Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”

You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.

“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..

“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.

The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”

He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.

Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.

Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.

“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”

“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.

Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.

“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”

“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.

“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.

“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”

“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.

he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”

You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”

You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”

“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”

Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.

No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”

“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.

“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.

“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”

—

One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.

“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.

He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.

Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.

You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.

just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.

He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.

“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”

Great.

—

Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.

—

tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀

#Spotify #hayden christensen #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe smut #sam monroe imagine #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #rots anakin #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker

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yellow-berrys · 1 year

Text

dote on me | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: you are completely oblivious to the way sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. but he begs to differ.

warnings: mentions of a bad childhood, mentions of smoking, drinking and illicit substances

navigation | masterlist

Sirius Black makes you nervous and he darn well knows that. He uses those consuming grey eyes of his, filled with enigmatic interest, to his advantage. He only needs to focus them on you for a considerate amount of time for you to start burning up like a wildfire. And his nose, it’s pointed and perfect, leaving you wondering just how unfair life can be. His cheekbones are high and structured, light hitting them at glorious angles. His lips are devoid of much red. They’re this cool plum colour that looks like it’s lip gloss all the time but really isn’t. His skin is framed by smooth black hair, and the layers in his haircut are so pretty it prompted every other guy in his life to get the same one. It drives you mad that he was born with this face and that hair. It’s simply unjustified.

It would be fine if he was just a pretty face. But it’s not. It’s simply unacceptable just how nice he is. Sometimes you wish he isn’t a gentleman and that all the rumours about him being a player with a million tattoos were true, because you’re envious and adoring of him.

And like anyone, he definitely has a vice. People think it’s cigarettes for him but he definitely does not smoke. And he doesn’t drink. At parties, he’s cradling a cautiously poured glass of lemonade instead. And he definitely doesn’t do drugs, because he hangs around Remus Lupin and there’s no way he would be allowed to if he did. Remus is a little sickly sometimes, and his body is very sensitive.

He likes to say his vice is chasing things he’ll never have. Like his childhood. He thinks he has regained that. Now, maybe it’s some sort of romance. All his life he’s been mooned over. People love him, mostly because he’s beautiful, and they offer him burning hot love all the time. People think he’s one for angsty, fiery passion. But Sirius thinks that fires never last, they’re too easy to disturb and taint everything with the unpleasant smell of smoke. James once did one of his stupid Women’s Weekly quizzes on him, the one with the “Tell me your favourite colour, and it’ll tell you what other people think of you, tell me your favourite animal…” questions. Sirius had laughed, thrown his head back and answered in a complete stupor. “Black, maroon if black isn’t an answer, dog…” James had asked him what his favourite body of water was and Sirius had said “A lake.”

He had spent summers of his broken youth dipping his toes into the pretty lake by his family’s home in France, escaping from the whirlwind world inside the walls of Walburga and Orion’s chateau. It didn’t make him cry more when he cried, because it would welcome the tears into the gently flowing water.

James had smiled, “Why?”

Sirius had told him, “It’s gentle, relaxing, peaceful. The one in France was so enveloping and soft. I felt safe there.”

“Chateau?”

“Yep. I used to go out there as a little boy. It was so quiet out there and it felt like heaven, so fluid and open.”

“Hm,” James had studied the words underneath, squinting his eyes, “Ooh, that’s how you feel about love. Never knew you were the romantic type, Pads.”

He had laughed.

James had asked you too. You had giggled, “Did you steal Lily’s Women’s Weekly again?”

He grumbled, “Not again.”

“I like ponds with little koi fish swimming in them.”

“Why?”

“It’s calm in a joyful way. It’s safe and there’s always rays of golden sun and it feels so delightful and promising. Lucky too, I guess. Oh! And it’s so pretty by a koi fish pond.”

James had grinned and left promptly.

Sirius thought it was strange when he had first met you. He hadn’t ever had these feelings before, and it took years for him to shove them aside and focus on his studies, friends and mischief-making. But you were affiliated with Marlene, you were always around in some way. You and him became friends and Sirius felt those feelings resurface again.

He groans into his hands as he runs it across his face.

“Why?!” he asks Lily, who is watching amusedly.

“I’m sure you can’t help it,” she says primly, “But what if you could help it?”

He looks at her inquisitively.

“What if you acted on these feelings? It isn’t half-bad of an idea. You’re grown up, Sirius, and if you still like her that means it’s real.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What if bad things happen?”

“What’s the worst that could?”

“Death.”

“You’re already halfway there,” she rolls her eyes, “Give it a shot, maybe love will make you less sad.”

“I’m not sad!”

“Whatever, start loving, Sirius.”

She picks up her Women’s Weekly magazine and starts reading. “Ooh, there’s this quiz-”

Sirius groans.

–

“Hey darling,” Sirius strides into your apartment. Good start, he thinks.

You’re sprawled on the couch, grinning as you FaceTime Marlene and Dorcas. When you see him, you look up, surprised.

“Marlene’s in Vegas,” you say, “Didn’t she tell you?”

Marlene did tell Sirius, and even offered that he come with her and Dorcas.

You flip the camera to Sirius, and even in blurry, low quality, Facetime video he’s still very handsome.

Marlene screams, “What is that monster doing in my apartment?”

You grin, “Marls, he was looking for you.”

“Actually,” Sirius tilts his head, and if you weren’t so thick you might see the smitten look in his eyes, “I’m here for you.”

You frown, “For taxes? It’s only the start of the month. Besides, the IRS will never tail you, you’re too rich for that.”

“Can’t I spend time with you, pretty girl?”

It’s flattering, but it seems too abrupt to be genuine. You brush it off with a laugh.

“Get a load of you,” you roll your eyes, “What do you need?”

“I need you,” he attempts and the confession, although seeming flirtatious and joking, brings a smile to your face.

Marlene chortles, “Guys- I-I-I-I’m…cutt-ing…ou-ou-ou-t.” She fakes it and it’s obvious, but the FaceTime ends and Sirius sits opposite you now. He’s pretty even at seven in the evening and it makes you very nervous.

You stand up, uneased, and make towards your bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh,” you gesture to an old pile of clothes, “Marlene cleaned her wardrobe out before she left, so I decided to follow suit so then we can donate them.”

“Why’re you leaving me?” he pouts.

“You want to…stay?”

You’re so puzzled and your heart is beating far too fast for your liking. It goes pitter patter like the rain outside. It’s exhausting. The feeling might be addictive, like a good old fashioned crush, but it’s always playing with you. It feels avaricious to love someone out of your league, worth more than you have ever been.

His sudden showering of affections and doting on you, you think, is because he’s lonely. He doesn’t live with James anymore. You empathise with him, but only because you think you’ll know what that feels like in a month when Dorcas and Marlene move in together. But it really isn’t. Sirius actually thinks that you deserve all the heavy-handed loving in the world, and he always has. His apprehension towards him being the person to do the loving is slowly fading away as he sees the shy smile on your face.

“If you’ll have me.”

And you turn your head around so he doesn’t see you blush, “Okay, I’ve been meaning to get a second opinion. Whenever I do this I do it with Marlene.”

You try things on by the mirror in your bedroom, instructing Sirius to look away when needed. He isn’t much of a help at all, because he thinks you look good in everything. Which is just certainly not true.

On a whim, he suggests that because he isn’t aiding you successfully, you should help him on his own closet. In the end, you wind up in his apartment.

Sirius has never boasted about what he has at all, mainly because he isn’t proud of it. By what unethical means his trust fund has come from, he doesn’t even want to know, but he’s grateful for it. You’ve only ever seen his living room, kitchen and his small powder room, and they’re lavish and capacious to no ends. Everything subtly screams wealth and luxury. His bedroom is no different. A large bed sits in the middle, framed by expensive paintings. There’s a well made ebony table in the corner, spotless and tidy. The two armchairs in the room are, whilst clearly faux-leather, intricate and of the sort of taste cultivated only by time. A copy of the original Call of the Wild sits on a table. A bookshelf is on one side of the room, grey, stretching from the floor to ceiling. You run your fingers along the spines of the book. They’re all special editions. A simple chandelier (what an oxymoron) dangles in the middle of the room, and you find the ceiling is gilded with plaster and gold. Pictures of friends and family adorn the white walls.

His walk in closet is humongous. You gasp as he opens the door. It’s double the size of your living room. The clothes are organised by colour, style and season and there’s a considerable lack of colour. In the middle sits an accessory table, with dozens of gold watches and silver necklaces. Delicate rings and bracelets all are displayed. A glass cabinet with bottles of cologne and perfume stands next to it. The only ones you can recognise is something that resembles the Ralph Lauren logo and Dior, and then again it isn’t even the one Johnny Depp uses.

He smiles sheepishly, ashamed that he has such nice things, “I did use my own money on this. Euphemia helped me fix it up.”

“It’s beautiful, Sirius,” you’re almost afraid to touch anything. You don’t think you belong in such a gorgeous world. You don’t think you deserve it.

Sirius beams at you, “Guess there’s not a difference between it and you, then.”

Your face warms. Sirius is already taking clothes off the racks, whilst you stand awkwardly. He’s chatting, talking about where the clothes came from and who gave them to him and why he likes it so much. Your shoulders relax and you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters. So far he’s through all the things he deems necessary for him to live.

“And this jumper,” he holds up a pristine Ecru crewneck, offering it to you, “Is from when I went to visit Machu Picchu with James. When we left, one of the ladies we had been staying with gave us both a handmade jumper.”

You hold the fabric delicately in your hands.

“It’s alright. It’s just clothes, darling, you can do whatever you like with them.”

He’s so nice it hurts and you grin at him endearingly, “Thanks, Sirius.”

An adoring smile finds its way onto his face as he turns to pick up the next item. You put the sweater in the “KEEP” pile.

“How did this get here?” he laughs as he pulls out a bright yellow crewneck, with a little emblem etched on the side. Immediately he tugs it on, grinning as he surveys the bright colour in the mirror.

You’re blushing away because the colour suits him so well and makes him look way softer than he usually does.

He sneaks a glance at you in the mirror, and when he sees your lack of eye contact with him he frowns.

“Are you okay?” he asks you.

“Yeah. Yellow looks really nice on you, Sirius.”

“Does it?”

“Mhm. I don’t know, it makes you look…cuddly?”

He doesn’t smirk like you expect him to, but swivels around and smiles at you again. He knows he looks like he loves you. He doesn’t mind. You’re just sitting there, confused at why he’s doing this. It’s weird and sudden and it’s definitely something he would do.

Maybe this is his new favourite jumper.

He throws it in the keep pile. You tut disapprovingly and rearrange it gently. Seeing a t-shirt, he takes his own shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. You cover your eyes, not wanting to intrude on his privacy.

Sirius is midway through putting the shirt on when he laughs. “It’s okay, princess, I didn’t ask you to look away. I don’t mind. Unless you do, then I’ll change over there.”

You peek your eyes at him, and Sirius hopes that he’s not imagining your pupils blown slightly.

And you didn’t think he could get more perfect, but he is. His muscles are toned and defined, and slightly strained as he slides his shirt on. Gosh, he makes you feel inadequate. He can’t know you want him, so you grin as if you’re unaffected.

“That’s cute,” you nod.

And the process repeats. Sometimes he takes off his pants too, leaving him to just his boxers that cling onto him in an ungodly way.

“Are you done?” you ask, eyes covered tightly by your hand.

“Yeah.”

Sirius is dressed in a suit, the tenth one tonight, “Do we like this one, or the grey one?”

“I like the way this one fits, but I like the grey colour more. But I think the dull dove blue one was the best because it brings out your eyes.”

Sirius makes a mental note to get the grey one altered. He chucks away some old sleeping tees, and a bunch of band hoodies he doesn’t wear anymore. He also gets rid of one of his expensive sweaters with a cable knit and a button up shirt, a bunch of sweatpants and this hideous sweater vest that his Aunt Thelma gifted him for his 17th birthday.

He thinks maybe you might like to wear some of the things he has in his wardrobe–Euphemia picks them out with him and she represents a small portion of women. He lugs the bag of clothes to his car, and when he’s back, he sees you cross-legged on an armchair, typing on your phone.

“Sweetheart, what do I owe you?” he asks.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, “For what?”

You put your phone down on the side table.

“For helping me?”

“Nothing, Sirius, nothing at all. It’s my pleasure, really.”

“Do you want to take some of my clothes? I have more than enough.”

You look inquisitively at him, “You don’t mind?”

“‘Course not.”

You go home that night with two of his fancy jumpers, he insists, and one big button up shirt, and a bunch of other stuff he is adamant you should take too. You call Lily. Her voice comes out muffled on the other end.

“Hey Lily!

“Mhm, I’m well, how are you?

“He’s not that bad, I’m sure. You do know he took your Women’s Weekly–

“I’ve already done that quiz.

“Right, well, I don’t think Sirius is fine, in his own right.

“No! As in the sad happy fine, not the cute handsome fine.

“Well- no- I- I don’t think he’s not fine- I mean - Okay whatever. Is he alright? He keeps on acting weird.

A long pause.

“You know something, don’t you, Red?

“It’s kind of strange. I mean, he offered for me to take one of his- I don’t know, the Ermenegildo Ze-

“Yes, that! One of those jumpers.

“Are you sure? That’s what he is normally? Isn’t he usually bad-boy cool guy? Not dorky weird compliment giver?

“Alright, fine.

“Bye, love you!”

You survey the pile of clothes for any trace of a prank. Nothing. You take out one and inspect it suspiciously. Then, your intrusive thoughts get the better of you and you sniff the material carefully. It smells really nice. You chuck them in the wash just in case Sirius has popped one of his silly prank gadgets into the pockets or beneath the collar.

The next time you see him, Lily has called you to tell you she and James are going to Vegas to join Marlene and Dorcas. They’re celebrating a championship. She invites you, but you decline, not liking the idea of tailing behind the two couples and intruding on the romantic atmosphere. Sirius is all alone, and Lily tells you to ‘please go and check up on him’.

The apartment seems okay. It’s spotless like it always is, smelling of air freshener and Sirius’ cologne. It doesn’t look like Sirius is going through something rough at all. Sirius might not even be home, so you’re about to leave when you hear music coming from a secluded area of the apartment. You sneak into the corridor and the door is ajar. A beautiful black grand piano stands, Sirius sitting at it, playing the finest tune you’ve ever heard. The sounds reverberate gently through the room, and it’s divine. It’s joyful and skips on merrily. His eyes are closed and his lips are turned up. It makes you think that maybe he’s thinking of someone.

He stirs a little at the noise and you pull back. He gets up from his chair and peeks his head around the door. You’re wearing his jumper over some sweatpants. It’s so pretty on you, falling oversized.

He laughs, which brings heat to your cheeks, “Do you want to come in?”

“You’ll let me?” you gasp, “But you don’t even let Dorcas come in, and she’s a cello-ist.”

“You’re special,” he winks and you blush. You must look like a motley of colours- florid and pink. But you don’t mind, he makes everyone nervous and you’re not special, which puts you at ease.

You perch on the cushy chair as he plays a lilting song. You hum, approving, “What’s the song called?”

“Love,” he says and you agree. The song plays like what love feels like.

It’s so soft, and warm. Combined with Sirius’ lavender and honey cologne, it makes you drowsy. He notices your eyes are barely open, and instead of ending the song, continues to play the same melody over a lighter bass. When your breathing becomes steady, he quietly rises from the piano and scoops you up, knowing it can’t be comfortable to sleep in a chair. He carries you to his own room, where he tucks you into his bed. You’re murmuring unintelligible things. He leaves and continues playing, before Lily calls and he knows he should be in bed, because it’s morning in Las Vegas. Thus, he shuts his piano and drapes a soft velvet across it. He falls onto the couch and listening to Lily’s calming method to waking up, he falls asleep.

In the morning, you’re in a vaguely familiar room. The sheets are silk and the ceiling is fancier than an art gallery’s. You yawn, stretching. The clock next to you detects the motion and flashes a dim white. Of course it’s an analogue clock, reading 5:00 am. You remember shutting your eyes slowly in the piano room, the news had been playing on the TV earlier. So you had fallen asleep at seven. 10 hours, more than enough. You quickly get up and make the bed. After using his fancy skincare products and brushing your teeth with a spare toothbrush you find packaged up, you hear soft snores coming from the living room. Sirius is there, phone by his side.

You pout at how much of a gentleman he is, retrieving a blanket and carefully placing it on him. Then you prepare a smoothie, with the fourteen-million ingredients he has in his giant fridge, and leave it in there with a note. But Sirius wakes. He’s always been a light sleeper.

He leans blearily over the couch, “Sweetheart?”

“Good morning!” you chirp.

“Why do you have to be so gorgeous at five in the morning?” he slurs. You raise your eyebrows. He’s really always very flirty, and you’re used to it not being genuine by now. He sways out of bed and into the bathroom. You hear the running of a faucet, and sit down on a kitchen chair, checking your phone. Lily has blown it up.

TO: REDHEAD

REDHEAD 7:31 p.m. sooo, how is he??

REDHEAD 7:43 p.m. hellooooo babes????

REDHEAD 8:00 p.m. are u ok ??

REDHEAD 8:05 p.m. ANSWER ANSWER ANSWER

REDHEAD 9:47 p.m. I’m calling sirius

REDHEAD 10:00 p.m. omg YES GO YOU OMG

5:30 a.m. what

5:30 a.m. he was playing the piano lils and i fell asleep

REDHEAD 5:31 a.m. ok keep telling urself that <3 i mean has he ever let us sit in when we asked???

5:32 a.m. i told u he was acting strange

You grin as you see some of the videos she has sent you. One is where James and her and celebrating, him beaming like he always does. She looks madly in love with him. You screenshot and send it to your email so you can print it out later. There’s another of Marlene and Dorcas doing the spaghetti thing at a Michelin star restaurant. They look as if they’re having a wonderful time. It makes you realise that you’re craving something like that too, only not in the wild world of Vegas. You already have something like it, but it’s so one-sided and your heart can’t stand it. You wish someone would just, dote on you. And genuinely, because there’s no way Sirius Black means it.

You express these feelings to Marlene when she’s back, moving boxes and taping things up.

“I want to love someone, Marls. Who loves me back, so don’t even say Sirius.”

“He doesn’t act like that around everyone else, you know.”

“He does! Besides, what makes me so special, Marlene? He could have anyone.”

She laughs, “Oh goodness have you got a lot to learn.”

–

Marlene and Dorcas invite you to their housewarming party in their house. They say it’s perfect for a family and they want to start one whilst they’re young. It’s quite a large gathering for a housewarming party, and the inside is buzzing with excitement. You’re talking to some of their colleagues- Alice and her boyfriend Frank on the couch.

“And we’re planning a trip to Ibiza for next month,” she blinks up at him lovingly and he does the same. It makes you subtly raise your phone as if you’re getting a message and type, before quickly flashing a photo of them whilst they’re gazing into each other’s eyes.

Sirius spots you grinning away, like you want what Alice and Frank have. He sidles in next to you.

“Hey darling,” he smiles and you smile back, “Hi.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Alice asks.

“Oh of course! I thought you would already know him,” you put down your drink, “Alice, this is Sirius. Sirius, Alice. Frank, Sirius. Sirius, Frank. They’re planning a trip to Ibiza and were voted Best Couple in high school.”

They’re both intimidated by Sirius, you can tell, but Sirius smiles, “Nice to meet you Alice and Frank. How long have you been together?”

They cheesily smile at each other, “Seven years and going strong,” Alice flashes her wedding ring.

Marlene calls you over to the kitchen island, where she is mixing drinks up, “Hey darl!”

“Sup, Marls.”

“Need a drink?”

“Just pink lemonade,” you hold out your cup. A boy comes around the table, smiling at you. Marlene smirks a little.

“Y/n, this is CJ. He’s a footballer, and a damn good one.”

You grin, outstretching your hand, “Hi CJ, nice to meet you.”

He shakes it heartily, “Likewise.”

“What team do you play for?”

“Oh, just a local one,” he rubs his neck bashfully, “I’m not that good.”

CJ, whatever it stands for, is handsome, with bright green eyes and curly brown hair. He’s sweet too and has this shy air around him that’s impossibly good natured. He’s Emmeline’s to-be lover.

“Try me.”

“Liverpool,” he says meekly.

“Oh, you’re the Cruz Johnson! How’s football for a living?”

“It’s great, actually,” he chuckles, dipping his head to whisper secretly into your ear, “Though this beer is actually some recovery drink, so could be better.”

You laugh.

He grins as he takes a sip and makes a funny face, “So what do you do?”

You tell him and he nods, “Impressive indeed. How’d you meet Marls here?”

“She and I were classmates! I wore her down eventually, she used to hate friendship.”

“Oh tell me about it. I met her at the football club, where she was playing for the ladies’ team. And the first time the coach tried to congratulate her she just rolled her eyes. He was filthy.”

“Oh?” your eyes are sparkling with mischief.

“When he dislocated his cheekbone a few weeks later, she told him she could ski on them if she tried. Anyway.”

You purse your lips in amusement, “Am I allowed to laugh at that?”

“He looked like this,” Cruz makes a face and you giggle.

Sirius is watching this all with a very sour look on his face, feeling very jealous.

Cruz takes another sip of his drink, “So, who are you here with?”

You’re confused, “No one? I mean, unless you count Marlene, but she’s with Dorcas. And my friend Emmeline too.”

At the mention of Emmeline’s name, his eyes light up, “About her…”

“She’s single and she does like green eyes,” you pull him near the wily, tall Emmeline, who blushes shyly as she sees Cruz, “Besides, I think she has a thing for you. Ever since, you know, you crashed into her and spilled your coffee on her favourite shirt,” you joke.

He blushes, “Gosh, you still remember that? Will you send me the name of the shirt so I can buy her five more? I know I already replaced hers but I still feel so bad.”

“Awh. That’s very nice of you, Cruz. Here,” you hand him your phone, “What’s your number?”

Sirius is watching you, hands tense around his cup. He decides to go up to you.

“Hey darling,” he says lowly into your ear, making you jump and your cheeks heat up.

“Sirius!” you berate. Cruz is watching with a knowing smile as he hands your phone back. You quickly text him, “Okay, sent it.”

The two guys are sizing each other up. You can sense their hostility.

“Now, boys, be friendly. Cruz, do not worry, Sirius is only friends with Emmeline, and Sirius, don’t worry, Cruz won’t try to pick up Regulus.”

You feel both of them relax. Cruz grins at Sirius, “Nice to finally meet you, man.”

“You too!”

“And don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for her either.”

You’re silently eavesdropping on the conversation whilst texting Emmeline. You sneak a look at Sirius, who has an unnatural pink on his porcelain skin.

“C’mon green-eyes, aren’t I obvious about it?”

Cruz agrees, “Too much so.”

“Anyway, I’ll let you get to Emmeline, Cruz.”

He stumbles, grins at you and waves at the same time, “Thanks, mate.”

“No problems.”

You watch as he goes and makes a fool of himself in front of Emmeline, who likes it. You turn to Sirius, eyes still watching them. You’re still painstakingly lonely. Tonight you think you’ve third-wheeled at least three couples, and set up two. Even though Sirius is there, he’s just a constant reminder of what you can’t have.

Sirius can see it in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much more he needs to do. Lily wants to know though.

“Soooo, lovely,” she begins and you narrow your eyes at her.

“I swear I didn’t take your cookie cutters and destroy them whilst trying to make clay sculptures with Emmeline and Cruz,” you put your hands up. Lily raises her brows and you murmur a quiet, “Oh no.”

“My cookie cutters that you gave me?!” she yells.

“It’s fine, I’ll get you new ones.”

She sighs, “Right. Anyway, Sirius Black.”

“Sirius Black,” you say slowly.

“Mhm. Are you ever going to tell him you like him?”

“No, I don’t even like him.”

“You don’t?” Lily feigns surprise.

“Nope.”

“Is he cute?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“He doesn’t like me like that, Lils,” you scold.

“Why does he call you ‘darling’ then? He has to.”

“If he did, that would be embarrassing for him. Gosh knows he’s too good for me. If he likes me, I would question why because he could probably do better,” you shrug, “I’m confident, but not completely blind.”

“Okay. So if he liked you, you would want to date him?”

You reply meekly, “Yeah.”

“I think you should tell him, though,” Lily sighs, “Better you than anyone else doing it.”

You ponder for a moment, “True,” you sigh, “He’ll be nice about it.”

Lily squeals, “I’m planning your wedding!!!”

You knock on his apartment door, reconsidering for the last time whether you want to do it or not.

Sirius opens the door, looking confused and handsome, eyes bluer than usual.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Gorgeous, to what do I owe this sudden visit?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Really?” his eyes are glistening.

“Yeah.”

“Come in then. Mind the mess, taxes.”

You hum, “Need help?”

“Actually, yeah. Should I write off…”

You sit down, distracted by the papers flying everywhere, taking a pen and starting to write. Your mission is almost forgotten after you finish helping him with his taxes, smiling satisfiedly at the hefty return he receives.

“Good,” you grin, admiring your work, “I’d say this is a successful tax file.” He swipes his tongue over his teeth, so attractively and seals the envelope, setting it down on his stack of things he needs to post.

“Package to Marlene and Dorcas, papers to…” he rambles, pacing out his thoughts, “Oh, and my portfolio. Can you check if they’re alright to send in?”

“Portfolio?”

“Oh,” he turns red, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “Someone asked me to model for them?”

“When?” you gasp. He hands you the envelope, and you carefully pry out some photos.

“A week ago,” he murmurs, “Can you check these aren’t too…much?”

They’re glossy between your fingers and smooth, candid shots, some staged and every single one of them belongs on the cover of Vogue. It’s strange, the pictures of Sirius should be in a magazine, famed and lovely, but he’s right here. Nervously fidgeting around. He’s so tangible right now. You reach out to skim your fingers over the photos, then stretch them out to touch the skin near his lips. He’s taken aback but leans into your touch.

“I think they’re perfect,” you fold the envelope over, handing it back to him.

He’s still looking incredibly ashamed of himself.

“Why do you look so sheepish?” you laugh, “Stop that! It’s alright.” You surge to hug him, “It’s amazing, Sirius.”

Sirius hides his face in your neck, “I feel like a show-off,” he mumbles and you laugh.

“Sirius, it’s honestly alright. You’re not, far from it actually. It’s okay to have nice things.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being a wimp.”

“It’s fine, I understand. These feelings are completely normal, but that doesn’t mean they’re true. If I had a staggering net worth of a few hundred million and never told you, would you think I’m a show-off?”

He shook his head.

“Exactly,” you smile at him, “Now do you want to go to the post office? It closes in half an hour.”

He nods, “‘Kay.”

The post office man greets him with some flirting, and he sets down his stack of parcels, ignoring him to go sign some of them.

He looks over to you, “You’re his…” he studies your face, “friend?”

It makes you feel small and judged. You chew nervously on your lip, unconsciously stepping towards Sirius. You know you couldn’t possibly pass off as his girlfriend, but it’s an ugly reminder you don’t need. Sirius smiles politely, “These three are in a letter card, but can we get them to be delivered…”

After he pays, you try not to make it seem like you’re in a rush to get out. He notices, of course he does. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say to you?”

You stay quiet and Sirius does too. He drives to his apartment and sits down on his couch. You follow. He’s silent.

“He said something about us,” you break the fragile silence, “About me.”

“What?”

“Well he looked at me and then asked if I was your friend after giving me a once-over.”

Sirius shrugs, “Aren’t you?”

Your heart falls, “Well–. The thing is–, look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I kind of– scratch that, I have this massive crush on you and probably more,” you wince, “Please be nice about this.”

He looks positively shocked. You can’t tell if it’s good shock or bad shock.

You grimace, “And please can we stay friends?”

“You think I’m rejecting you?” he almost scoffs, lifting you easily into his lap. He’s so close you could count the colours in his eyes. A charcoal, a light cerulean, a tinge of yellow ochre, “After all my countless advances, the gifts, even inviting you into my piano room whilst I played, I couldn’t, sweetheart,” he says softly.

“Haven’t you noticed I haven’t ever dated anyone since two years back? That I pretty much have been begging to be noticed by you these past years,” he continues, “All because I want to be yours. Because I couldn’t even think of wanting anyone else. I like you so much.”

“Hey Sirius?”

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did.”

You huff, “Can I kiss you?”

Before you can do anything, he’s grinning as he presses his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. When you break apart, he's still grinning. He thinks he will be for the rest of his life.

“Whoa,” you say as you grin at him.

He hugs you tightly, “Please never say we should be friends again.”

You nod, “Never.”

2K notes · View notes

leclercss · 10 months

Text

Tainted Love, Part 3 (Charles Leclerc ft. Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: thanks so much for all of your positive feedback so far. really happy that you guys are enjoying this story. i'm hoping my creative juices stay flowing but in the mean time, let's talk about the husband (ifykyk).

word count: 3.7k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader

What time shall I pick you up? x

Baby, I think we need to talk about yesterday x

Call me when you're awake okay? Love you x

You're currently standing in Charles' kitchen as your eyes scan the unread messages that your husband has sent through the night. You're not sure what you think or how you feel about the messages.

It's the first time since you arrived at Charles' apartment that Lewis has even crossed your mind. You're telling yourself that you should feel some guilt as he's starting to sound a little desperate with his messages but you mostly just miss the feeling of Charles.

It's currently 06:10. You haven't slept much throughout the night, probably about thirty minutes altogether. You and Charles had been keeping each other busy and awake. You'd spent a decent amount of time pleasuring one another. Charles' head had spent a considerable amount of time between your thighs. You had returned the favour to Charles by pleasuring him with your mouth, switching between slow and sensual blowjobs to Charles basically fucking your mouth. This was in between you guys trying out different positions with each other - Charles had loved fucking you from behind but he loved seeing you on top of him more, riding him as your boobs bounced in his face. You'd also spent a lot of time having intimate sex, softly kissing one another and running your hands all over each other's bodies as he moved in and out of you.

But your favourite moments were the ones where you lay on each other, limbs intertwined talking about life. You'd come to learn about each other's lives - about your similarities and your differences. Both of your fathers had passed away when you were in your mid-to-late teens. You both had a love for travelling. Charles was a talented piano player, you could barely play the triangle. You were both silly and playful with one another but compassionate and open to learning more about the person laying in their arms.

It was clear you had a connection but how deep this went, only time would tell.

As you stand in the kitchen, your body covered in one of Charles' t-shirts, which happened to be of Ferrari, your eyes go back to the texts on your phone. How and when do you respond to them?

You'd always thought that if you ever took the opportunity to sleep with someone else other than Lewis you'd have been filled with guilt and regret. But here you stood in another man's apartment, spending the last 5 hours of your life having sex with him and telling him your life story. Lewis was an afterthought.

"Can't sleep?"

The voice behind you takes you out of your thoughts. It has caused you to jump a little both from the surprise but also from the fact that it doesn't belong to Charles. You turn to see one of his friends standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest looking at you. You think this one is Hugo.

"Erm, yeah, I guess. I thought I'd take the chance to check my phone. Charles is currently asleep," you respond.

"You're checking to see if your husband has messaged right?"

You're a little taken aback by his question but you answer him out of politeness. "I hadn't checked my phone since I got here last night. Just checking in on life".

The conversation has taken you by surprise, especially at this hour. You're vague with your answer, not really wanting to dive into a conversation about what you're going to say to your husband after you've been fucking somebody else for the whole night. Especially with someone whose name you can barely remember.

"That's not what I asked, but okay".

His bluntness causes you to frown. You don't want to find yourself in an interrogation over something that's none of his business so you grab your phone and handbag and start to make your way back to Charles' room. But before you make your way down the hall, his voice stops you in your tracks.

"It's nothing personal, by the way. But you're a married woman, who's been having sex with my friend all night," his voice is a little softer this time. "Charles seems unfazed by the fact that you're married but it'd be strange if I didn't have questions. I'm just looking out for my friend".

You turn your head slightly to nod, acknowledging him with a half smile before making your way back to Charles.

You quietly make your way into his room, placing your phone and handbag onto his bedside table before climbing back into bed. You lay your head on his chest and begin to make yourself comfortable when you hear a voice beneath you.

"Mmm... you're back," Charles utters. "Thought you'd sneaked out and left me".

You smile as you tilt your head so you're looking up at him. He's looking down at you, his eyes looking like he could fall back asleep at any moment although he doesn't seem to mind that you've woken him up as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his if it was even possible.

"I was just getting some water in the kitchen before getting my bag and phone," you tell him before placing a couple of kisses on his chest.

"I'm glad you're back," he whispers as his eyes slowly close with a smile plastered on his face. He's about to fall back asleep but he manages to tell you one more thing, "by the way, you look so sexy in my Ferrari top".

You can't help but smile at him before he drifts back to sleep. You stare up at him for a moment, mesmerised by his beauty before laying your head on his chest once more and finally closing your eyes for some well-needed sleep.

The feeling of something hard against your thigh was enough to take you out of your slumber. You let out a little groan as the world starts to come back to you. As you have a quick look over your shoulder, you notice that Charles is well and truly awake. His body is pressed against you from behind and the something hard is his penis erect against you.

"Morning, baby," he whispers in your ear and it's you feel a butterfly in your stomach.

"Mmm... Morning Charles," you mumble as you place your hand on top of the one that he has spread across your stomach.

Charles is clearly eager to feel you up and get back down to business as he's beginning to gently grope at your skin and he lightly thrusts his hips against you so his dick is rubbing you. Your hand reaches back so you can run your fingers through his hair but it's not enough for him. He's impatient and ready to fuck you.

"[Y/N], I want you," he growls into your ear before he begins to lick and suck on your skin just below. You're not putting up much of a defence as one of his knees is pushing your legs open so he has better access to the part of you he's so badly craving.

You're already so wet for him as he starts to rub circles on your clit and a soft moan escapes your lips as you lean further back against his chest.

"Mmmm, that feels good," your voice is delicate as the last of the sleep leaves your body.

Charles clearly isn't in the mood to play around as you feel him push his dick against your slit. He pushes it lightly past your folds and thrusts a couple of time.

"Ohh... Charles," you groan with pleasure.

You feel his breath against your ear, he's panting lightly. Clearly ready, you lower your hand that's still on top of Charles' on your stomach and place it between your legs. You don't hesitate as you use your hand to push his dick inside of you. You both moan simultaneously as he begins to fill you.

He wastes no more time and begins to thrust inside of you immediately. He's spent so much time inside of you that your body needs no time to adjust. You're already moaning for him as he's building his speed inside of you rapidly.

"Oh my god!" you cry as he's starting to pound you from behind. The hand in his hair is now pulling at the strands as you're trying not to moan so loudly but it's a difficult task when he's already fucking you this hard and this fast.

"Charles, don't stop" you moan as you dig your nails into the arm that's wrapped around you. You don't need to tell him to keep going, his pace is still relentless.

"You look so sexy when I'm fucking you like this, amour," he pants in your ear as he started to grope at your boobs that are still covered in his Ferrari t-shirt.

You're basically whimpering in his arms at this point. His pace hasn't faltered once and his stamina is admirable. He's just pounding into you from behind, sending your body into overdrive.

"Please," you don't know what you're saying please for exactly. He takes this as a sign to pleasure you even further as his free hand makes his way down to your clit and he begins to rub circles. Your clit is so swollen and sensitive that just feeling his slightest touch is causing you to hiss.

It's another couple of minutes of Charles pounding the life out of you from behind and you can feel your orgasm fast approaching. He senses this and picks up the pace with your clit, driving you even closer to your orgasm.

"Charles, please," you beg him. The assault on you is almost too much to handle.

"[Y/N], I want to feel you cum for me." You're not sure if it's a command but you soon hit your peak and cry out as your orgasm hits you in waves.

Charles continues to fuck you through your high as he's now fast approaching his own climax. He's so lost in fucking you that he almost pulls out too late before he's spilling his cum onto your thigh, grunting in the process.

"Merde!"

His body finally relaxes around you as he lays on his back. You're still recovering from your orgasm when you feel his fingers gently tracing along your spine.

"Amour, that was incredible," he whispers as he's still catching his breath. You finally find the energy to roll over and lay your head against his chest.

"It was," you whisper as you lay a peck on his chest and shut your eyes, taking in this feeling.

It was hard to say goodbye to Charles but you knew that at some point you had to return home. To return to your husband.

After having a shower with Charles, where you used it as one last opportunity to touch and grope one another, you realised that you'd left your spare clothes and bag at Whitney's. Deciding that you weren't ready to rock up at her house in another man's clothes, you made the decision to wear one of Charles' t-shirts and pair of shorts back home and you'd pick up your bags later. You knew she'd have questions about your dancing and kiss with Charles last night.

A kiss you could explain, but rocking up in random clothes when you told her you'd gone home was going to be a lot harder to talk your way out of.

As you sat in the Uber heading back to your apartment, you remembered how you had left Charles with a passionate kiss and a promise that you'd see each other again soon.

Despite the many hours you had spent with Charles, you still weren't 100% sure of how "open relationships" truly worked. And you were beginning to think of the questions you were going to get from Lewis when you rocked up in Charles' clothes.

The thing is, what could he say to you? You hadn't broken the rules you had agreed when you accepted the terms of the open marriage:

No friends, no friends of friends, no colleagues, no ex-colleagues, no falling in love and no pregnancies. Basically, there was to be no evidence or trace left behind to spare the other's feelings. God, how did you buy into this bullshit idea?

But one thing you had never agreed on or discussed was the possibility of sleeping with the same person more than one time - unless it was with each other.

Reality was starting to sink in and you were beginning to realise that you had just as many questions about all of this as you predicted Lewis would have when you finally made it home.

"Hey babe, am I allowed to fuck the same guy over and over again?"

As much as you originally hated this whole arrangement and had told yourself you wouldn't partake in this open marriage, you were beginning to realise that you were getting yourself into dangerous territory. This wasn't your game to play but now you couldn't help yourself. You'd had the taster with Charles and you'd be going back for a second course.

Or a third, or fourth, or fifth.

Shit! You tell yourself to get it together, you're about 10 minutes away from home and you notice that Lewis still hasn't replied to your text saying that you were on the way home. But he's read the text. Based on how constant his texts were last night, you knew he was going to be pissed if he hasn't replied.

Before pulling up outside your apartment building, you send a text to Whitney asking if you could call by at some point to pick up your things before the weekend was up. This could be your excuse to leave if things got heated with Lewis again.

You make your way into your apartment building and say a little prayer to yourself before facing what you expect to be the wrath of your husband.

"Yeah, well how many girls have you fucked?"

That was going to be your argument if things got heated. Surely that was enough, right?

You take a deep breath as you begin to open your front door and make your way inside. It's quiet.

You shut the door and make your way into the living room, not really sure whether to call out Lewis' name to let him know that you're home or to basically sneak in and get changed out of Charles' clothes as soon as possible.

Your choice is made for you as you see Lewis sprawled across the couch with his eyes completely glued to his phone. The British bulldog which you share, Roscoe, is lying by his side.

"Hey," your voice is so quiet you're not sure if Lewis hears you as he's still tapping away on his phone. But he must have decided to ignore you as Roscoe lifts his head at the sound of your voice and pants with excitement as he sees you standing in the doorway. He climbs off of Lewis and makes his way over to you, running around your feet.

"Hey cutie," you giggle as you lean down to hug and pet him.

After a moment of playing with Roscoe, you look over at Lewis to see if he's looking away from his phone yet. He's not. He's still tapping furiously at his phone. His tongue slightly poking out from the side and his eyebrows are crossed.

"Hey, Lew," you say. You stand up and the dog at your feet makes his way back to Lewis on the sofa, placing himself by Lewis' feet.

"Nice to know that someone knows how to come back to me, hey Roscoe," Lewis grunts. He's still looking at his phone.

So this was going to be his attitude? You try not to roll your eyes, knowing that if Lewis catches it his passive-aggressive attitude will only worsen.

"Nice to see you too," you mumble as you sit down on one of the armchairs as you look over to Lewis.

He's silent for a few moments, still tapping away. You want to take the phone out of his hand but that idea is put on hold as he speaks his first words to you since returning home.

"Good night?"

That was it?

"Erm, yeah, it was," you could barely hear your own voice. Now that he was speaking to you, all of the confidence you had in the Uber has left your body.

"Yeah, must have been a good one," he continues. He locks his phone and places it on his stomach so he can finally look at you. And when he does, his dark brown eyes feel like they're staring into your soul. "I can tell it was a good one because you've turned up in someone else's clothes".

Shit.

"Even though you brought a bag with you last night. You stayed at Whitney's right?"

You gulp. You're royally fucked.

"We went back to someone else's for afters," you tell him. I mean, it wasn't really a lie? You did go to someone else's for afters.

"And you didn't go back to Whitney's to get your stuff before coming here?" He's staring at you still. You're not sure if his expression is one of amusement or anger.

"Erm, no... the place was closer to here than to Whitney's," you lie.

He starts laughing. He's actually laughing at you.

"Okay, [Y/N]. You don't need to embarrass yourself with these lies. If you went back to someone else's house and fucked him just say it," he chuckles.

But you don't say anything. Your nerves are growing by the second and you're not sure if you want to pass out or throw up as the conversation is developing. He has some nerve. All of the times he's slept with someone behind your back and he's sitting here laughing at you.

But he doesn't laugh for much longer as his facial expression turns.

"I said say it!" the tone of his voice shocks you and you're no longer confused about the expression in his eyes. He's furious. You're pretty sure the only reason he hasn't shouted at you is to stop Roscoe from barking like mad. The poor dog went crazy when you and Lewis were screaming at each other the other day.

You're not really sure what your next move will be. You're trying to hear your own thoughts but your heart is beating so loudly that it's basically thumping in your ears. You can't think. All you can do is just look at Lewis who's anger and frustration with you is growing by the second.

"You really can't say it huh?" he scoffs before picking himself off the sofa and storming into the kitchen. Roscoe follows suit.

You take a moment before you go after him. You're not sure why you decide to follow him. Curiosity? Stupidity? God knows but you both know the conversation isn't finished.

You walk into Lewis slamming pots and pans around as if he's attempting to make something but all he's doing is causing chaos and poor Roscoe is following him helplessly and confused.

"Go away, [Y/N]".

You let out a sigh as your eyes follow your husband's movements.

"Lewis, can you just stop for a second?" you plead with him but your plea falls on deaf ears.

"What part of go away do you not understand?"

This time you can't help but scoff, growing tired of his antics. After the way he's treated you for the last eighteen months, something inside of you is telling you to finally grow some balls.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You've slept with how many women during our marriage and you're mad at me?" you cry out.

Your eyes are still on Lewis. His hands are gripping onto the counter, his back turned away from you. His fingers are going white with the pressure and tension he's putting on them. "It's not the same thing!"

You scoff again and you're surprised it doesn't cause Lewis to lose it altogether but he's using every restraint in his body not to shout at you.

You want to tell him to fuck off at his hypocrisy. You agreed to this bullshit situation for him and he's the one that's pissed?

"How is it not the same thing?"

This time your voice is louder. You're digging your nails into your hands to stop you from screaming. He doesn't answer you.

You give him another couple of seconds. He says nothing. You notice his body is starting to shake. But you don't care, you're going to push his buttons with your newfound confidence, "Oh! Now you're the one who doesn't want to answer?"

It's almost like you want him to break. You want to push his buttons so hard for him to snap at you. To show that he actually gives an ounce of crap about you.

Roscoe's now barking at the tension in the room. Lewis is still quiet. Still looking away from you.

How has he not snapped yet?

The tension in the room is like a pressure cooker. Ready to explode at any moment.

"Lew-"

"You're wearing his fucking clothes!" His outburst is met with his palms hitting the countertop with pure rage.

He's finally snapped. He finally turns to face you and you have never seen him look so angry. At least not when it came to you.

"You fucked him? Fine! But you broke a fucking rule," his voice is so loud that even Roscoe has stopped barking out of shock.

You say nothing. You just look at him. His chest is rising and falling dramatically. His eyes are almost black with anger and he's now gripping onto his braids to somehow stop himself from doing something stupid.

He's not done. "You barely answer your phone after we've had the biggest argument of our relationship. You stroll in here at 1:30 in the afternoon as if you haven't been gone for almost two days already and you don't even have the decency to change into your own clothes? And you're here, wearing his clothes as if it's some fucking achievement that you've finally shagged someone else. Well, congratulations!"

Silence.

You don't really know what to say. You're not sure if you want to nominate him for an Oscar or burst into tears. Instead, you just look at him, stunned into silence.

Lewis finally makes the first move as he walks towards the doorway, towards you. He's about to pass you but he stops right in front of you, this time he's no longer looking at you as if he's ashamed of you. Like a parent who's disappointed in their child.

"I may have started this whole thing but you've brought a piece of him into our home," he growls before walking past you.

You've broken a rule.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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theemporium · 8 days

Note

hi king!! could i get a uuuuhhh…

"I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

🩷 w/luke? xoxo

we tried something different with a wee historical fiction/prince au🤠they are not my forte but i wanted to try challenging myself. thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

Luke had always found the royal festivities to be tedious and long winded.

Maybe it was because they very rarely focused on him, with most guests taking interest in his parents or his older brothers—Quinn especially, being next in line to the throne. Or maybe—just fucking maybe—he found them tedious and long winded and boring because they were.

He wasn’t even sure what the reasoning behind this one was, if he was being completely honest. Though, there was never usually a good reason for many of the high class patrons of the kingdom to deny the chance to be invited into the castle or flaunt their pretty fabrics. But Luke had to assume this one was semi-important if people from neighbouring kingdoms—people of importance—were making the journey.

Still, it did little to make him feel anything but utter boredom as he did his rounds. He flashed the guests a few smiles, usually letting Jack or Quinn take over the conversation. And once he had shown his face for a socially appropriate amount of time, he found himself sneaking off in the shadows to find something to occupy himself before his father’s expected speech.

Usually, he would find himself sneaking into the kitchens to see if the staff would slip him a few desserts before dinner or some snacks to entertain him with.

This time around, Luke didn’t even make it to the secret corridor that led down the kitchen before he was pressed against the wall, his breath knocked out of his lungs and something cold pressed against his neck.

“Shit,” you hissed, only your eyes visible to the boy as you glanced over his face.

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through him that didn’t have him thinking straight. Maybe it was the excitement for something different to happen at this ball.

Or maybe Luke just lacked common sense and self-preservation because the only response he managed after a random woman dressed in all black with a knife pressed against his throat was, “pick the wrong prince?”

You blinked. “You matched the description.”

“So…I was the right prince?” He asked, something akin to amusement in his voice and it threw you off.

“Do you have your life threatened often?” You questioned, partially rhetorical because a part of you was genuinely interested in the answer. “You seem very calm.”

“I just assumed if you wanted me dead, I would have been dead already,” he replied honestly, making no move to try and escape your hold. He had a feeling you would bury that knife in him before he even got the chance to take a step.

“I could still kill you if you don’t listen to what I say,” you told him, and he knew better than to question how truthful you were with that promise.

But still, Luke was young and sheltered and spent far too much of his time trapped in the castle, learning how to be a prim and proper gentleman. There was something thrilling about you and, for reasons his own brain couldn’t comprehend, he didn’t want to lose your attention just yet.

“I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife,” he retorted, his lips twitching upwards when he noticed your eyes widen slightly in response.

“It’s like you have a death wish,” you grumbled, the edge of your blade digging a little further into his skin.

“So if I wasn’t your target, who was?” He asked casually, like you were two acquaintances catching up. Like there wasn’t the possibility of someone turning the corner and finding the two of you. Like there weren't guards already starting to notice his absence.

“None of your business,” you snapped, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. He wondered if you were contemplating whether or not he was worth killing and adding the extra hassle for.

“It seems like my business when you have a blade to my throat,” Luke added cheekily.

“You have no sense of survival,” you told him like it was an insult.

He grinned. “Perks of being a prince, I assume.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you grumbled and, in a blink of his eye, you were already three paces away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

He pushed down the uneasy feeling in his chest the second you were no longer pressed against him, the second your eyes were no longer on him. “Will I see you again?”

You paused, tilting your head to the side. He couldn’t see your mouth but he had the strongest sense that you were smirking beneath your mask.

“Depends what kind of enemies you plan to make, Your Highness.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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luxaofhesperides · 6 months

Text

greener on the other side.

Danny makes a habit out of hopping into portals and exploring he places he ends up. It just so happens that this time, he ends up in Gotham right as the Signal begins his patrol. Duke meets the strangest, funniest, cutest guy on the roof of the Gotham City Public Library. He knows Batman would not approve of literally anything he’s doing, but sue him, he wants a meta friend and this guy seems to up for it. – OR: how Duke and Danny got together despite having secret identities and living different dimensions.

chapter two: how it grows - 10.7k

read chapter one here or the entire fic on ao3.

here's the duke pov! one chapter left from danny's pov, then this fic is complete and i can get started on the rest of the series focusing on their relationship! . . .

Duke doesn’t like to make a big deal of things. He’ll try to handle things on his own and roll with the punches. As long as he keeps his cool, things will work out.

Unfortunately, feelings are not one of the things that just ‘work out on their own’ and he has to admit that he might just need some outside help for this. The problem, then, becomes a question of who he can go to.

He’s come a long way since he was part of the We Are Robin gang and knows that he can rely on the rest of the Bats for help. He’s one of them, something that still feels surreal when he thinks about it for too long, but Duke has his place with them both in and out of the mask. He gets along well enough with Damian, trains often with Jason, bothers Dick for help when he gets in over his head, and makes fun of Bruce with Tim and Cass and Steph.

They’re good people and he trusts them. They’re messy, with lots of history and fights between them all, but what family isn’t like that?

They’re good people and he wants to ask them for help, but Duke can’t bring himself to go to the Manor. They’re all just… Some of the advice they give him for his civilian life is suspect at best. So instead, he’s going back to Jay’s house, hoping his cousin will have some normal advice for him.

Though he spends a decent amount of time with the Waynes, Jay technically still has custody of him; Duke doesn’t want to leave his family behind at all, not if he has any other choice, but he knows that looking after a teenager while being single and not having the biggest paycheck is stressful. Plus, it allows less time for any resentment to spring up between them with the amount of secrets Duke is hiding from him.

As unprepared for him as Jay was, he still does his best. He’s waiting in the living room when Duke arrives, dropping his keys into the dish on the side table in the entrance hallway. A bowl of popcorn and two glasses of ice tea are set on the coffee table and Duke gladly takes one and drinks half in one go before he even sits down.

“Alright, man,” Jay says, “What’s going on? You never ask me for advice.”

Duke sighs. “It’s, uh… dating problems? I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t actually know if it was a date or not and I need a second opinion.”

Jay gives him a long look. “Usually, just having to ask tends to mean it was a date and you just didn’t notice in time. You getting back with that Izzy girl?”

“No! We both decided to stay friends, and it’s not like we’ve been hanging out much at all since the break up. This is someone new.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Nah, he doesn’t live in Gotham.”

The smile falls from Jay’s face and he leans closer to Duke, suddenly growing serious. “If this is an internet friend, I’m going to have to lecture you on stranger danger. Come on man, I know you’re smarter than that.”

Duke shakes his head, pushing his cousin back into the couch. “No! No, no, definitely not! Do you really think I don’t know anything about internet safety? Not the point. The point is, he’s from out of town and he’s really cute and I spent most of yesterday just hanging out with him and took him to the best food trucks I could find. Was that a date?”

“Honestly? Sounds like it. Good for you man. Just make sure to let him know if you want the next one to officially be a date.”

See? Simple, normal advice. Jay is just telling him to communicate like a normal person. It’s not that simple, of course, since Duke isn’t going as Duke but as The Signal, but it’s still good advice. Once he finds the courage to ask Danny out on a proper date, he’ll do it in a way that leaves no confusion.

It won’t be any time soon, though. Not when they’ve just met and Danny doesn’t even know his name.

“It’s that easy, huh?”

“Sure is,” Jay grins. “How do you think I got all the girls when I was in school?”

“Is that also why you can’t get any dates now?”

“Alright, you little shit,” Jay laughs, throwing an arm around Duke’s shoulders to trap him in a noogie. “See if I give you advice ever again. Is this the thanks I get for looking after you?”

Duke can break free from his grip easily, but it’s been so long since he had a nice, easy interaction with his cousin that he just sinks into it, laughing. Time apart has made things better between them; there’s less stress involved with hiding his identity, and Jay isn’t worried out of his mind about raising Duke right while also making enough for rent and groceries.

“You staying the night?” Jay asks, finally releasing Duke.

“Nah, the Waynes want me over for game night and I really wanna see them try to kill each other. But I got a couple of hours until they’re expecting me.”

“Up for a movie?”

“Is it another zombie movie?”

“You know it.”

Duke shrugs. “Sure, put it on and I’ll try not to laugh too hard when you get scared.”

It’s nice and lets his mind finally stop spinning in circles, going over everything he can remember from his not-date with Danny. He’s missed spending time with his cousin even if living away from him is a lot less stressful. As great as the Waynes are, they can’t give him this.

What they can give him is chaos and embarrassment.

“Caught you slacking yesterday,” Jason says casually as he drops onto the couch next to him. Both of them watch as Steph and Damian team up to kill Bruce for taking all their properties in Monopoly, and Duke suddenly has a feeling that he should have stayed with Jay after all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, “I’m never slacking as the Signal. I’ve never done a single thing wrong, ever, in my life.”

“Didn’t you lead a gang?”

“Didn’t you decapitate eight men?”

Jason pinches his side in retaliation, making Duke jump. “So, you pulling a Superman? Flirting with a civilian you saved?”

They didn’t go anywhere near Crime Alley. How did Jason just happen to stumble across them? He probably should have expected someone to have spotted him. None of the Waynes care too much for other people’s privacy.

“No,” Duke says slowly. He is flirting with a civilian, but Danny is not someone he saved. Danny is someone who helped him out when fighting crime, and is fun to be with. “I was just showing him around Gotham?”

Jason’s eyebrows go up. “An out of towner? Didn’t think they’d have the balls the stay in Gotham longer than a few hours.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not one to be scared away so easily.”

“And does this someone have a name? If he’s spending time with you, I wanna know his name.”

Duke side eyes him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Look, it’s good to keep an eye on any civilian that gets close to us. In case they’re a threat, and in case they get caught up in the bullshit that saturates every part of our lives. The longer they’re with us, the more danger they’re in. But I can help you look out for him. So: name?”

That is… a depressingly good point. Duke can’t save everyone despite how hard he tries. It would be good to have someone else looking out of Danny while he’s in Gotham, just in case.

“Danny. His name’s Danny.”

“No last name?”

“I don’t know it. Look man, I only met him two days ago. He’s a meta like me and he’s not from Gotham. That’s about all I know.”

“That’s it?”

“Again, we literally just met. If he decides to keep coming around, then I’ll learn more about him.”

Jason gives him an assessing look, then gives him a sharp grin. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be coming back for you. Boy was giving you doe eyes the entire time he was with you. Don’t drag him along too much, yeah? Poor thing’s got it bad for you.”

“He does not!”

“I’m not blind, Narrows. And I know you saw it too.”

That’s the problem. He did see how flustered and cute Danny was around him, always finding some way to bump into him or have their arms brush as they stood around, always sticking close as they soared through the air almost close enough to hug. It was cute, so adorable that Duke wanted to squish his cheeks and also lie face down on the ground. But it wasn’t Duke who was causing Danny to blush was the slightest of touches. It was the Signal, the daytime hero, and Duke knows they can’t build anything good together when it’s built on a foundation of secrets.

Danny’s got his own secrets too. Being a meta is only one of them and he’s not sure he’ll ever get to know those parts of Danny when the guy can just choose to never return to Gotham again.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to try. It’s stupid and reckless when they’ve only known each other for two days but no one has ever made him feel so normal before. Even in the midst of using their powers and hopping around Gotham fighting crime, there was a sense that they understood each other, that their lives rhymed and it made everything so easy and comfortable between them.

“And?” Duke sighs. “He doesn’t even know my name. It’s not really anything right now, okay? We just get each other and it’s nice to spend time with someone like that.”

“Want me to find him for you?”

“Please don’t.”

Jason shrugs. “Alright, your loss.” He looks back to where Bruce is calmly stealing Steph’s Monopoly money as she has her arms around his throat, trying to choke him as she clings to his back. Damian is trying to steal everything back. None of them have caught on to the fact that Tim and Cass have teamed up and have taken over the bank and are steadily taking properties on the board, fully and shamelessly cheating.

He’s so glad he chose to sit this game out.

Jason seems content with leaving the conversation there, so Duke cuts his losses and leaves before Tim and Cass have to fend off everyone else and turn this entire game night into a blood bath.

It’s not like anyone’s going to win against Cass anyways.

Duke fully intends to go up to his room and get a full eight hours of sleep while everyone else goes on patrol. He’ll take some time to think about how excited he is to see Danny again when he brings his friends over next week, but only for a bit. His sleep is so important.

Batman could never compare to how much he values his sleep.

He’s got good priorities, okay? He’s not changing them for anything.

Instead of sleeping, though, he ends up laying on his bed for hours, all his thoughts swirling around in a restless tangle. This is why he can’t ask the Waynes for advice on Normal People Shit. They just make him overly paranoid and sure that everything is going to go wrong.

Danny’s a mystery. He didn’t feel like one when they met; Danny was just an average citizen standing on top of a building, and the Signal had a duty to check up on him.

But when Danny turned to face him, his eyes were a bright blue, practically glowing, and there was a light emanating out of his chest, as if he tucked a star into his ribcage. No normal human looked like that, and Duke would know. He’s seen a lot of weird shit with his powers, especially once they started affecting his eyes even more, but even people who dabble in magic didn’t look like that.

Danny had looked ethereal. Unreal. As if he wasn’t from this world at all. Like someone who had stepped out of a story and into the real world.

And he was fun.

That’s what’s tripping Duke up. He’s met other metas before. They tend to either be 1) homicidal, 2) depressed and traumatized, or 3) serious and heroic. Sure there were some that had a sense of humor, but it was just to keep the mood light as they went around saving people and being more Hero than Person.

That’s what Duke had become, growing into his role as the Signal until he worried that it was taking away from Duke Thomas. The other Bats seemed to have no problem with their various identities, or enjoyed being in the mask far more than they enjoyed taking it off. Duke, as he usually was, is the outlier.

It’s why he always has to wrestle with imposter syndrome, forcing himself to stick around until he can finally feel like he belongs with the heroes of Gotham. He can act unbothered as much as he wants. It will never change the fact that, at his heart, Duke is still the terrified and angry boy sneaking out of foster homes and orphanages to search for his parents, refusing to find a place in the world that wasn’t by their side.

As the only meta on the team, his powers are both a blessing and a curse. They’re another reminder that he’s the odd one out, the one who doesn’t fit in as easily as all the others, but also a tool that lets him help in ways no one else can.

He always has something to prove when he’s out as the Signal. He always has to make himself worth keeping around as Duke.

With Danny, all of that fell away.

Using his powers was fun with him. They darted around the city, from rooftop to rooftop, stopping crimes and teasing each other as they went. There was no pressure to conform or prove himself, just the easy joy of feeling the air rush by him as he swung through the skyline, hundreds of feet in the air.

It doesn’t hurt that Danny is cute, too.

Sighing, Duke rolls over and shoves his face into his pillow.

He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he met another meta who wasn’t trying to attack him. Sure, he has other hero friends, but they’re either regular humans or not human at all. One day with another meta, just shooting the shit, enjoying their time together, makes him all too aware of how much he’s wanted something like this since his powers first manifested.

Jason said that Danny was down bad, but Duke’s not doing any better, honestly.

He can’t wait until he sees Danny again.

It takes putting on some soothing music and trying not to let all his thoughts drift back to Danny before Duke finally feels sleep take a hold of him and gladly gives into its embrace. . . .

The glow appears suddenly, a flash of light in the distance, and that’s all Duke needs before he takes down two muggers and zip ties their wrists together quickly. “Stay safe!” he calls to the victim, quickly grappling away as she glares at her attempted muggers. She’s looking rather violent, and if she wants to whack them over the head, then that’s her right.

Duke doesn’t need to worry about it. He’s already dealt with the problem and now he can make his way to Danny, falling into the familiar rhythm of catch, fall, and release as he chases after the cold star-glow of Danny.

He makes his way to the glow until he can see Danny standing on the roof of the mall in Diamond District. Duke stops a few buildings away, taking the time to catch his breath and make sure he’s in Signal mode instead of Duke Thomas.

Then, as prepared as he’ll ever be, he shoots his grapple out.

Danny and his friends are already facing him when he lands, eyes flickering between him and his grapple gun.

Duke tucks it away and offers them a small wave, giving Danny a soft smile.

“This is him!” Danny announces, turning to face his friends so he can do a little flourish and show off Duke. “This is the Signal, and he’s a legit hero here.”

A goth girl looks him over with an unimpressed gaze, then clicks her tongue in a way that reminds him way too much of Damian. “Too much yellow,” she says, “You should update your armor to be less… this.”

“Sam!” Danny says, smacking her arm. “Uncalled for!”

“What? I’m right. That’s way too much yellow.”

The other boy pushes his glasses up his nose and glares at Duke. “So you’re a hero, huh?”

Duke blinks and the sudden hostility, then nods. “Yeah, sure am.”

“And you save people?”

“I do my best.”

“Even if they’re not human?”

Oh, Duke realizes, they’re just being overprotective of Danny. It kind of sucks to be on the other end of it, but he’s glad to know that Danny has people that will stand by him. Being a meta without any support is awful and often dealy; human traffickers especially love to target vulnerable metas.

“Even then,” Duke says. “If anyone needs help and I can help them, I do. It’s how I got into the hero business.”

“Quit the interrogation,” Danny hisses, then turns to Duke with a strained smile. “I am so sorry about them. This is Sam, and this is Tucker.”

“Well, welcome to Gotham.”

Danny hooks his arms with Sam and Tucker’s, pulling them closer to himself with enough force that they stumble. “Stop being mean, guys. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

Sam sighs, then gently knocks her head against Danny’s. “Yeah, alright. We’ll behave.”

“ Thank you. Let’s hit up Wayne Tower first, then the botanical gardens and maybe lunch after that?”

“Sounds good,” Tucker says, pulling his arm free from Danny’s grasp just to hop onto his back. With Tucker secured, Danny sweeps Sam up into a princess carry, and all three look at Duke like this is something totally normal that happens all the time. And maybe it is! It’s probably normal for them and Duke is not going to judge them because he wants to make a good impression and not be a hypocrite.

He’ll just… not talk about the Bats and how bizarre they all are. Duke himself is not exempt from this.

“You gonna be able to hold them both and fly around?” he asks, just to make sure. He definitely doesn’t want anyone falling to their deaths while he’s leading them through Gotham.

Danny just offers him a grin, the tips of his sharp canines just barely visible. The glow in his chest gets a little stronger and his eyes flicker from blue to bright green. “Don’t worry. I’m strong enough to be their Uber today.”

“We’re not paying you,” Sam and Tucker say at the same time, then high five. Danny rolls his eyes, and Duke can’t help but smile seeing their little routines.

They must have been friends for a long time to be so close.

Duke makes a mental note to spend a day just hanging out with his own friends soon. It’s been a little too long, hero work and school taking up all his time, and though they understand and try to keep him in their lives through texts, it’s all too easy to slip away from each other.

Focus, Duke, he tells himself. Today is for Danny and his friends.

He’s the Signal. There’s no time for Duke’s problems. He’s got crime to fight and three teenage tourists from who knows where to show around Gotham. He’ll deal with his own shit later.

“I’ll lead the way to Wayne Tower then,” he says, walking backwards to the edge of the roof. Danny lifts up from the roof, hovering a foot in the air, and it’s so hard to look away from him when he’s literally glowing, eyes bright and hair turning white. “Also, just as a heads up, I may have to leave for a few minutes to deal with crime, but I will come back. Just stick to the roofs and you’ll be safe.”

Sam looks around, assessing the city. “Lots of crime here?”

“We’re called the Crime Capital of America for a reason,” Duke responds wryly and she grimaces.

“Well. At least the aesthetic is pretty nice. I’m digging all the gargoyles.”

“Wait ‘til you see some of our churches. Stained glass, dark stone, really Gothic. I think you’ll like it.” Then, to Danny, he says, “Ready?”

Danny nods, and Duke turns and jumps off the roof.

Behind him, he can hear a gasp, and then he shoots his grapple out and begins swinging through Diamond District, trusting that Danny is following behind him as they fly above the busy streets. And sure enough, when he flips off the edge of another building, Duke catches a glance behind him and sees the shimmer of an invisible Danny flying towards him, with two additional little shimmers that must be his friends.

He goes back to grappling through the streets, keeping an eye out for any crime.

“Come in O,” he says quietly, activating his comm.

“Signal, everything good?” Oracle asks, hopping onto his frequency within a second.

“Yeah, I’ve just got a few visitors I’m escorting around Gotham. Can you keep an eye out for any crimes that need my attention? Just let me know where they are and I’ll deal with it.”

“Sure thing. Who are these visitors?”

“Out of towners. One’s a meta and they wanted to do a little sightseeing, and you know how this city is dangerous for people who aren’t used to it. And with meta human trafficking…”

Oracle makes a small sound of understanding. “Yeah, best to stick close to them while they’re here. Good call, Signal. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if anything pops up, but so far, it’s all looking quiet.”

“Good to hear.”

There’s a pause, and then Oracle’s voice turns teasing, bringing more Barbara into the forefront. “Soooo,” she starts, and he can already hear the grin in her voice. “Making friends, Signal? Looking to start up your own team? It’s tradition, you know; we’ve all done it.”

“Nah, they’re not looking to join the cape scene. They just want to see the sights, hang out a bit. Are you looking for information on them right now?” He can hear her typing loudly, fingers flying across the keyboard. She’s supposed to be working in the library, but she’s also got her own office in there now that she’s the most senior employee. It would be just like her to pass off patron duties to the other libraries and bust crime rings from her office desk.

Zero separation between regular work and night work. The curse all bats and bat-adjacent folk struggle with.

“Who do you think I am?” Barbara scoffs. “If you’re making friends, then it’s my duty to make sure they’re good friends. At the very least, I can’t let you run off with villains in the makings, or cultists wanting to sacrifice you or something.”

“They’re normal civilians,” Duke hisses into his comm. He casts another glance behind him to see Danny flying off to the side. From what he can make out from the movement of the shimmer, like a heat mirage given form, he’s pointing something out to his friends. “And how likely is it that they are villains? I doubt anyone looking to hurt me is going to ask me for a tour of Gotham.”

Barbara hums. “You never know. Tim befriended Anarchy. And a couple of League assassins.”

“Tim’s a special case. He can befriend literally anyone. I mean, didn’t Jason and Damain both try to kill him? Now look at them. Thick as thieves.”

“He is something special,” Barbara agrees, amusement coloring her voice. “Say, can you tell me their names?”

“Who?”

“Your tourist guests.”

“Danny, Tucker, and Sam. Why?”

There’s a pause, even the clicking of her keyboard going silent. Oracle being stopped in her tracks is never a good thing and Duke is suddenly worried that she did find something that will connect the trio to some evil world domination plan.

“I can’t find them.”

“What?”

“I’ve run their faces through the databases, I’ve searched for people matching their descriptions, I can’t find any tech on them that I can hack into… It’s like they don’t exist. Digitally, that is.”

Duke lands just a block away from Wayne Tower, staring up at it. The glass glistens in the few rays of sunlight that force their way past the clouds hanging heavy in the sky. It’s taller than any other building in the district, overlooking Gotham all the way to the bay. He hears the slight shuffle of feet as Danny lands on the roof behind him and sets Tucker and Sam down.

He wants to keep talking to Barbara because he can’t recall a time she wasn’t able to find something. She’s ruthless in the pursuit of information, effortlessly hacking into even the most protected files, capable of finding people and vehicles and buildings and everything else someone might need for a case.

The fact that Danny and his friends have hidden themselves from Oracle’s all seeing eyes has him on edge.

He really hopes it’s nothing. He wants to be friends with Danny. He wants to trust him to be a good person just trying to live a quiet life as a meta. He wants just one thing to not blow up in his face.

“Here we are!” Duke announces, showing off Wayne Tower with a flourish. “I can’t get you much closer to the tower without people noticing you pop in out of nowhere, so you’ll have to walk the last two blocks to get to the building.”

“Impressive place,” Tucker comments as invisibility slides off of him. Sam appears a moment later, followed by Danny, the glow in his chest softening and growing a little dimmer.

“Wayne Enterprises is always striving for perfection,” Duke agrees. “Though, between you and me, I’m 99% positive that the only reason this building is as big and impressive as it is stems from Wayne’s need to be better than Lexcorp.”

“Lexcorp?”

“Rival company in Metropolis. Lex Luthor is the CEO and we all hate him for a lot of reasons.”

“I kinda want to pit Vlad against these guys,” Sam says, shooting Danny a grin.

Danny snorts and shakes his head. “Vlad has a cheese castle. I think he’s already lost.”

Duke is really interested in hearing about the cheese castle, but a quick glance at the watch hidden in his wrist gauntlet (put there only so he can dramatically check the time and leave with some insane excuse when criminals were complaining to him about their own poor choices) tells him that it’s nearly time for the next tour to start.

“Alright, folks,” he says, “You’ve got around eleven minutes to sign yourselves up for the next tour, so if you want to make it, you’d better get moving!”

Tucker swears, then sprints for the edge of the building. “Danny! Get me down there! I’m not waiting another hour for a tour!”

Danny rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling fondly as he flies over to Tucker and scoops him up. They both disappear over the edge of the building, leaving Duke alone with Sam.

“So,” she says, and her tone could be mistake for conversational if it wasn’t for the coldness of her eyes. “You’re getting pretty friendly with Danny, from what I’ve heard.”

Duke smiles nervously. This is the beginning of a shovel talk, isn’t it? “I guess so. I mean, I’d like to be friends with him.”

“How old are you?”

“What?”

“How. Old. Are you?” she bites out, walking closer with a glare.

“Why do you want to know? I can’t just be giving out information about my identity, you know.”

“If you’re not a teenager, then I am going to have a few knives sharpened for when you make a wrong move towards Danny.”

“Wait, wait! I’m still in high school! That’s fine, isn’t it?” He definitely shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but if one of his friends said they were hanging out with someone they don’t know outside of a mask, or a username, or whatever, he’d want to make sure that person wasn’t a creep. Her protective anger is admirable, really. And besides, he gets it. If telling her his age (or age range) will reassure her that he’s not going to… groom Danny or something, then he’ll tell her.

He’d never fault someone for looking out for their loved ones.

“You better be telling the truth. For your own sake.”

“Cross my heart,” Duke says.

Danny pops up through the roof a moment later, startling both of them, easily breaking the tension. “Come on, Sam, Tucker’s signed us up and doesn’t want to wait for you to get over there.” He picks Sam up, then glances between her and Duke. “Wait. Sam. Tell me you didn’t threaten the Signal.”

“Do you want me to lie to you?”

“I can’t take you guys anywhere, I swear…” Danny mutters, then flies down to the street.

Duke blinks at the empty roof, then decides that he’s just going to move on with his day and enjoy spending time with Danny.

He grapples closer to Wayne Tower, following Danny’s glow to make sure they get inside just fine. It’s only a block, but anything can happen in Gotham; better safe than sorry. As soon as he watches them go into the building, Duke sets a timer to display on the corner of his helmet visor and gets back to patrolling, keeping watch over Gotham while he waits for the tour to finish.

“Signal,” Oracle says, and Duke snaps to attention, landing on the next building at the end of his grapple, hopping down from the ledge with ease.

“What’s up, O? Got something for me?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to keep an eye on your guests. One of my drones picked up a strange reading that’s similar to magical residue.”

“You think they’re magic?”

“I think there’s something going on with them that we should keep an eye on. I know you said they’re just here as tourists, but you know we can’t take chances in Gotham.”

As much as he understands Barbara’s concerns, Duke can’t bring himself to be suspicious of Danny or his friends. They do have secrets, and none of them have even hinted at how they arrived in Gotham, appearing suddenly and without warning on a rooftop. But he’s always been one to give the benefit of the doubt. To try to talk things out, figure out a solution where no one needs to get hurt. Most of the time, it doesn’t work since whoever is causing problems really only cares about venting out their pain and frustrations through property damage and loss of life. Sometimes, though, the people causing problems need a little help, need protection, need some space to calm down and get themselves under control, and having a horde of Bats chasing them only makes things worse.

“They really are just tourists,” Duke says. “I know how you feel. I get it, there’s definitely something more to the three of them. But it’s not causing any harm right now, so I say it’s none of our business.”

He hears Barbara sigh down the line, but she’s always been good at respecting boundaries (when it doesn’t come to privacy) and will let people do as they believe they should. It’s why she helps out Jason every so often despite his violent methods and familiarity with killing. It’s why she has her own group and leads them without controlling them the way Batman tries to.

“Alright,” she says, “You make the calls since they’re your guests. Just be ready for me to say ‘I told you so’ when something goes wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re always right, O. Let me make my mistakes in peace, alright? We’ll fix it when we need to.”

“This is why you’re my new favorite,” Barbara jokes.

He makes to respond, maybe poke fun at some of the others with her, when he catches sight of two guys trying to break the lock on a bike to steal it from the sidewalk. Dropping down from the roof, he casually walks up to them, then clears his throat and shakes his head in disappointment at them when they jump and whirl around to stare at him.

“Really?” he says, judging them harshly, “Stealing someone’s bike? In broad daylight?”

They both flush with embarrassment, scowling at him.

“Well, we gotta get home somehow!” one of them says, kicking at the bike in frustration.

“Can’t you take the bus or something? Walk?”

“We don’t have any money on us for the bus and we’re heading to Robinson Park. I ain’t walking that far.”

Well. At least they’re just trying to get around and weren’t planning on selling the bike off.

“Two options,” he says, and both guys tense up immediately, prepared for a fight. He hates that that’s the reaction people have to Gotham’s heroes. As soon as they turn to a crime, no matter how petty, they’re prepared to be beaten down into submission. It’s a precedent set by Bruce that he’s never really liked and Duke does his best to embrace how different he is from the rest of the Bats to show the people of Gotham, criminals and all, that everyone can turn to him for help.

“I can buy a week-long bus pass for you both. Or, I can give you two a ride.”

They share a glance, slowly relaxing. “Can we do both?” one asks. “Get a ride from you and the bus pass?”

Duke glances at the timer in his visor. He’s still got forty minutes before he needs to go back to Wayne Tower.

“You know what? Yes, we can do that. Let me get you those bus passes and then we’ll get going.”

The two men share an excited grin, stepping away from the bike and its slightly mangled lock. They follow Duke to the nearest bus station where a little kiosk is tucked under the awning. Barbara, listening in as she always is, buys the bus passes for him, getting them to print within seconds when they get there.

“Sending your new motorcycle to your location,” she says as soon as he hands both bus passes to the men.

As far as Duke knows, he only has one motorcycle. He wishes he could ask what Barbara meant with new motorcycle without anyone listening in, but he’s gotta give the guys his attention, keep them company while they wait.

They make small talk for a bit, the two asking him what being a hero is like while Duke chats about life in Gotham and shares some Batfam gossip (mostly patrol blunders of one of them slipping while crossing the rooftops and eating shit).

It only takes seven minutes for the motorcycle to arrive, appearing in front of them in the street as the cloaking turns off.

“Woah,” one of the guys breathes, staring at it in awe. “Man, you heroes get the coolest shit.”

“Perks of throwing ourselves into the line of fire. Literally.”

He sees why Barbara sent him an entire new motorcycle (!!!) because his original plan of having three people squeeze onto the seat of one motorcycle was clearly going to end in disaster. This new one, Signal Yellow as it should be, is more armored, a little larger, and has an extended passengers seat attached to it so three people can ride it easily.

Duke swings his leg over it, settling into the seat and grips the handlebars. “Come on,” he smiles, inviting the men to join him. They do, nearly tripping over themselves as they get seated, excited grins on their faces.

It’s nice to know that no matter how old people get, a cool motorcycle is the way to most people’s hearts.

And what a change it is to see two men, likely college students in their final years, go from scared and unhappy people to acting like kids again, jumping at the chance to ride a motorcycle with a hero.

Small interactions like this, where everything goes right, is exactly why Duke is determined to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, a chance to choose differently and be good.

“Hold on tight!” He revs the engine, then takes off, the men letting out whoops behind him as they rush down the street. The motorcycle picks up speed quickly and runs so smoothly it’s as if they’re flying, easily dodging all the cars around them.

Normally, he’d go invisible and use the cloaking mode on his motorcycle to get around, but with two civilians riding with him, he’d rather be visible so cars don’t accidentally hit them.

The ride to Robinson Park takes fifteen minutes at the frankly dangerous speeds Duke was going, and he has no regrets about speeding because 1) it’s fun as hell and 2) the guys with him are clearly having a blast.

He slows down once they reach the park, then pulls over to the side of the road.

“Thank you for riding with Signal Wheels. Be sure to leave a review!”

“Five out of five!” one guys says as he gets off the motorcycle. His hair is a mess, completely windswept and tangled when Duke turns to look at him. “Holy shit, dude, I think I’d marry your motorcycle if I could.”

“Oh same,” Duke laughs, holding out a hand for a fistbump which is readily granted.

The second guy needs a moment longer to get off, laughing breathlessly. “Ten out of ten,” he says, once he’s next to his friend.

“Trying to one up me, huh?”

“Just being honest here.”

“Alright, well you two take care now,” Duke says, shifting his weight to one foot in preparing to kick off and head back to Wayne Tower. “And be sure not to lose those bus passes!”

“Thanks Signal!” they both call out as Duke heads back down the road, turning invisible as soon as he gets to a good speed.

He’s got just enough time to make it back to lead Danny and his friends to the botanical gardens. He cuts it close, but he makes it, pulling into an alley and hopping off the motorcycle.

“O, would you mind getting this back to wherever you piloted it from?”

“Not going to take your new friends on it?”

“Nah, I get the feeling they prefer flying.”

“You got it, Signal.”

The motorcycle pulls out of the alley silently, then heads down on road once cloaking is enabled. It’s gone just in time for his guest to walk out of Wayne Tower, trailing after Tucker who talks with his hands moving around energetically, too distracted to watch where he’s going as Sam and Danny pull him this way and that to keep him from crashing into other people.

Danny spots him first, after he stops and his brow furrows, a look of concentration on his face. Then his head turns and his eyes snap onto where Duke leans against the wall at the mouth of the alley. He grins, the glow in his chest flaring brighter for a moment, and Duke offers a small wave, unbearably charmed by how cute Danny is, especially when he’s so clearly delighted to see him.

“How was it?” Duke asks once they’re close enough to hear him.

Tucker immediately launches into a rant about WayneTech and the R&D Lab and how he would give his liver to work there. Then he starts rambling about technology and coding and a few of the things he’s created and how he’d love to look through what WayneTech does. He doesn’t stop even as Danny flies him up to the roof, Duke following after with his grapple, Sam clinging onto his back.

“So, so cool,” Tucker gushes, “I could probably take over the government in Amity with this kind of tech.”

Okay. Kind of a concerning statement to make, especially in the wake of Barbara’s suspicions of them.

Sam snorts. “You could take over the government in Amity now, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, I could.”

“Not that you’d be good at it. What would you do as mayor?”

“Create a steak festival to celebrate steak and all the meals you can make with it.”

“Oh you little—” Sam lunges at them and Tucker falls back with a shriek. And then they’re tussling on the rooftop, arguing about meat and veganism and the farming industry, which, what a subject change.

Duke looks over at Danny, who watches them wrestle with fond exasperation. “Should we… stop them?”

“Let them get this out of their systems,” Danny replies. “They’ve been having this fight for years. I’ll stop them in a few minutes, and then we can go to the botanical gardens.”

So they stand together and watch Sam and Tucker roll around the roof, trying to choke each other out. And all Duke can think is, Man, I can’t ever let them meet the Bats. They’ll get along like a house on fire.

Or, it’s all he thinks until Danny shifts closer to him, just a few tentative steps. He’s suddenly starkly aware of how small the space between them is, how Danny’s close enough to touch, how much he’s been looking forward to this moment since Danny left a week ago.

Boy was giving you doe eyes the entire time he was with you, Jason had said. Duke saw it, when he was with Danny, reveled in it, basked in the attention. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate, but he knows it can be hard to convey anything through his helmet, but there’s only so much action can do.

But it’s what he can do, so Duke shoves away his nerves and wraps his arm around Danny’s waist, pulling him closer.

Danny lets out a cute little squeak, cheeks filling with color immediately, and Duke is so, so endeared he wants to cry.

“So, what’s the story behind this fight of theirs?” he asks, leaning closer to ask his question quietly in Danny’s ear.

“Oh! Um,” Danny blinks at him, visibly flustered, and Duke wants to squeeze his cheeks together, he’s so cute.

Oh, he really is down bad. Damn. He hopes Barbara isn’t watching through his helmet camera, but he knows better than to expect her to not be collecting blackmail on him for this.

Which is whatever! Jokes on Barbara, he’s not at all ashamed of what he feels for Danny!

He could do without the ribbing from the rest of the Bats. They have no leg to stand on when it comes to relationships and being honest about their feelings. He’ll turn every conversation about Danny into improvised therapy if he has to.

“Well?” he prompts.

Danny glances at his friends, then leans into Duke and turns to him with a small smile.

“So,” he begins, then launches into a wild story from his freshman year about Sam and Tucker splitting the school into two groups to have a mini civil war over meat vs vegetarian food. Which lead to eating grass (?!) for lunch, a ghost lunch lady attacking the school, and the teachers having their own hidden meat lunch kept secret from the students, which lead to more chaos once it was discovered.

“That was a wild school week,” Danny concludes, just as Sam and Tucker’s fight winds down.

“Dude,” Duke says, staring at Danny, unsure if he wants to laugh or ask follow up questions. “What kind of life have you been living? That’s so much. The only thing we’ve got here is shootings and so much crime. Also a zombie in the sewers.”

“See, you drop info like that on me and suddenly I’m convinced that my life is actually pretty tame compared to whatever’s going on here.”

“No, no, listen. In Gotham, you expect this kind of nonsense. But your story started so deceptively normal! ‘Just a fight between friends’ and then a ghost attack? Betrayal from the teachers? Grass? Danny, everything you said left me reeling.”

“It’s not that bad!” Danny laughs. “The ghosts barely cause any problem anymore. They’re just kinda like anyone else, now.”

“What’s this about?” Sam asks, brushing her skirt off as she stands. Tucker pushes himself up to his feet and takes a moment to wipe the lenses of his glasses.

“The first time we met Lunch Lady.”

Sam and Tucker make a sound of understanding, nodding. “That sure was something,” Sam says.

“To think we were so young and innocent back then,” Tucker says with a fake sniffle. “So innocent!”

“You’re still as insufferable as ever,” Sam replies, taking his smack to her arm with grace.

“You two ready to head to the botanical garden now?” Duke asks, getting them back on track. Danny moves out of Duke’s grasp, unfortunately, to return to his role as their personal Uber, this time getting Tucker in a princess carry while Sam clings to his back like a koala.”Well. Guess Danny’s decided you’re ready.”

His friends snicker while Danny rolls his eyes and mutters about their unending arguments, then nods at Duke to lead the way.

Giving him a little salute, Duke readies his grapple, then takes off, leaping off the building to return to the skies. Danny follows him effortlessly, a soft glow that occasionally passes by in front of him playfully, sticking close as they head north.

The botanical gardens are a large spot of green in the otherwise urban landscape. It’s a few blocks away from Robinson Park, close enough that everything nearby is deemed Ivy’s territory, but far enough away that most people can pretend it’s like any other building and visit it safely. It’s been a long time since the botanical garden was attacked, or use for Villainous Purposes™, so Duke is comfortable letting Sam, Tucker, and Danny explore it on their own.

Plenty of other people are also in the gardens, from what he can see a roof away. And no one’s run away screaming, which is definitely a good sign.

“Oh, wow,” Sam says once she hops down from Danny’s back. She stares at the gardens with something unreadable in her eyes, as if she’s seeing more than what’s there. “There’s so much…”

“Poison Ivy—one of our rogues who can control plants and is doing a lot better these days, don’t worry—she takes care of most of the gardens. The greenhouse in the middle is hers for studies and experiments with plants, but she lets the public walk the garden. She’s even added little informational cards for kids to read so they can learn more,” Duke says, walking up to where Sam is leaning concerningly over the edge to get a better look at the gardens.

“That explains it,” she says, explaining nothing. “Do we have to pay to go in?”

“Just five dollars per person. It’s her income, and we’re all encouraged to leave a donation so she doesn’t turn to crimes to get enough money to support herself again.”

“Well!” Danny claps his hands together. “Let’s go, then. Jazz made sure we had cash on had, so it should be fine.”

“I can cover our tickets,” Sam offers, “Since this is for me.”

“Then I’ll cover lunch,” Danny says.

Tucker shoves his hand onto Danny’s face to push him away as he says, “No, I’ll pay for lunch. Danny, you’re not spending anything since you’re the one that scoped out this place last week for us. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Thanks, guys,” Danny smiles, then turns to Duke. “Would you mind waiting here for a bit? I’m gonna check out the gardens for a bit, but then I’ll be back.”

“Sure,” Duke says easily. It’s a quiet day anyways, and he’ll take any excuse to spend more time with Danny.

“Great. I’ll be right back!” And then he wraps an arm around both Sam and Tucker’s waits, picks them up like they weigh nothing, and casually hops off the roof.

Duke sits down on the edge of the building, watching as they cross the street and enter the botanical garden, Sam pulling out her wallet to pay for their entry. He idly kicks his heels against the wall, looking around the street, enjoying the rare Gotham peace.

No one is calling for help and Barbara hasn’t alerted him to anything. This is a good thing, but it doesn’t change the fact that Duke is bored.

He pulls out his phone, which he knows he shouldn’t have while he’s in the suit but it’s his day shift, he can do what he wants, and checks his friends (no Bats allowed) group chat and sees that Izzy is active. He opts to leave the chaos of the group chat to message her directly.

flashlight: hey izzy u know how we broke up

2(00)chains: oh boy. strong opening. but yes i am aware we broke up

flashlight: would u be mad if i started dating someone new or is it too soon?

2(00)chains: OMG DUKE??? WHO IS IT YOU NEED TO TELL ME RIGHT NOW

flashlight: izzy.

2(00)chains: babe u gotta give me something to work with so i can know if i should give u my blessing or not

2(00)chains: but also if u want to date and they make u happy, then yes u can date

flashlight: okay thanks!! wasn’t sure and didn’t know if it would be rude

2(00)chains: rude to date when ur single?? it would have been a problem if we were still together but that ship has sailed bby

2(00)chains: but duke PLSSSS i need deets. give me some tea… a girl is parched…

flashlight: lmao. so dramatic. but uuuuuuh

2(00)chains: little concerned by that pause there duke

flashlight: ok hes a meta

2(00)chains: ok strong start, u dont need to hide powers from him

flashlight: he’s not from gotham and doesnt live here so idk how well long distance would do

2(00)chains: duke. is this an online friend u’ve never met before.

flashlight: no!! i met him in person in gotham!! he’s just visiting!!!!

2(00)chains: ok ok go on

flashlight: uh

flashlight: he may only know me as the signal?

2(00)chains: DUKE.

2(00)chains: i understand the need to keep ur identity secret

2(00)chains: but PLS do not be a superhero love story cliche. im begging here. u didnt even keep it secret from me

flashlight: he may also not exist in this world (universe?)

2(00)chains: .

2(00)chains: u know i think u can make it work

2(00)chains: u have my blessing! if he says yes when u ask him out (which he better do 🔪) then i demand to meet him!!

flashlight: u got it izzy

flashlight: thanks!! u always got my back ☺️

He only has a faint prickle on the back of his neck to warn him of Danny’s approach, looking up through gut instinct only just to see Danny’s fuzzy glow fly up to him.

Danny pops into visibility a moment later, pouting. “I was hoping I could sneak up on you.”

“It’s gonna take more than that, babe,” he laughs. “I’m hard to sneak up on.” Bar that time Cass… and Bruce… and Tim… Dick, also… Jason, too…

Okay, so anyone who isn’t a Bat won’t be able to sneak up on him easily.

“Babe?” Danny repeats, his voice suddenly much higher. Duke freezes and takes a moment to curse his loose mouth; he and Izzy love pet names and still call each other terms of endearment even now when they’ve broken up. And since he was just talking to her, habit made him put his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah,” Duke says, committing to it, “Babe”

Danny makes a little whine in the back of his throat, face going red, and then his hides his face in his hands and floats up higher, curling his body up into a small ball. The movement reminds him of the videos he’s seen of astronauts in space, moving in lazy circles in zero gravity.

“Sorry,” he adds on, “I was texting a friend and we call each other things like that, so I just… slipped up. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” Danny mumbles.

“What?”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

Duke smiles. “Alright. Wanna come down and join me, then?”

Danny continues hiding for a few moments longer, then reaches a hand down towards Duke. He doesn’t look at him, shyly turned away, still red in the cheeks.

How is he so sweet?

Duke has never met someone so cute, and full of light, and literally glowing. He never stood a chance.

He takes Danny’s hand, gently pulling him down to the roof, wrapping an arm around him once he’s sitting to make sure he doesn’t go floating away.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, I was just… I really like hanging out with you and you’re super cool and I thought I should explain a few things about myself.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Danny says, resolutely. “First, I’m not from here.”

Duke stares at him. “Yeah, I got that. Kinda obvious after we spoke for the first time.”

“No, I mean. Really not from here. From a different dimension.”

Oh. So Danny’s just casually walking the multiverse, apparently, and chose to return to Gotham to spend time with Duke. That’s honestly really flattering.

“Makes sense,” he says.

Now Danny’s staring at him, incredulously. “How does that make sense? Do you not have questions about what that means, or where I’m from, or how I got here?”

Duke shrugs. “Not really. Listen, there’s a lot of weird shit in Gotham. Like, a lot. Batman was lost in time once and presumed dead until Red Robin helped get him back. There’s incomprehensible magic and time travel and so many aliens, dude. This is not that out of the ordinary.”

“YOU HAVE ALIENS?” Danny shouts, then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. And then, whispered, “You have aliens?!”

“Yeah, we have aliens. Some try to kill us and conquer Earth, some live here as superheroes.”

“No way,” Danny breathes. “Can I stay here forever? My dimension doesn’t have aliens. I really want to meet aliens.”

“If you stick around long enough, it’s kind of inevitable that you’ll get caught up in some crazy shit, and you’ll probably be able to meet Superman then. Or maybe Martian Manhunter, if he’s available.”

He watches Danny mouth Martian Manhunter in awe and is so charmed by him and his visible excitement about aliens. Most of this is just how he lives life, knowing all these impossible things are out there but have very little to do with him. It’s only mind blowing when he actually meets Superman and all, but that’s because meeting big heroes is like meeting celebrities and it never stops being cool.

“Wait, I’m getting distracted.” Danny shakes his head, then lightly claps his hands against his cheeks. “Okay, so. I’m from a different dimension. And Tucker has made a few phones that can work literally anywhere. But only to contact other phones he made for interdimensional communication. I had him make one for you so we could keep talking even when I go home, if you wanted.”

“I want it! I very much do want it.”

Danny grins. “Great! Perfect, okay.” He reaches into his own chest (?!) and pulls out a phone.

“Um.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can use my insides like a pocket dimension for extra storage.”

Sure. This might as well happen. Duke takes the phone and looks it over; it looks like a large, square flip phone, but when it opens, the screen and keyboard are both touchscreens the glow a faint neon green. He opens up the contacts menu, finds Danny, and shoots him a quick text that consists only of a smiley face.

“Man, this is so cool,” Duke says. “Thanks for giving it to me! I really am glad I can talk to you some more.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you for giving me the time of day.”

Duke knocks his shoulder against Danny’s. “Come on, man, don’t say that. Anyone would be happy to spend time with you. Besides, I’m really not as cool as you think. I’m a normal guy outside the suit.”

“You still have powers.”

“I do, but I’m not the only one.”

“I know this is a bit of a bad question, and I do understand how important secret identities are! But do you think I’d ever get to know you when you’re just… you?”

Duke thinks about how much Batman would disapprove, the lengths Tim went through to protect his own identity as Red Robin, how everyone around him would become a target if anyone figured out who the Signal is…

But then he thinks about how much keeping this secret puts a strain on his relationship with his cousin, how much of a relief it is to have his friends in the know so he doesn’t have to constantly lie to them, how he’s the only hero Danny knows in this dimension and the only person who can help him while he’s here.

“I’ll tell you one day,” Duke says, “Promise. When we get to know each other a little more, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright, that’s fair. Thanks, Signal.”

“You need to get back to your friends?”

“Nah,” Danny shakes his head, “They can manage on their own. Besides, they agreed to one hour each place, and Tucker’s hungry enough to drag Sam out as soon as it hits that hour mark.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t you tell me a little more about your dimension while we wait? Or any other place you’ve visited.”

Danny grins, leaning closer, and says, “Have you ever met a yeti? Cause I have.” . . .

He doesn’t get to see Danny or his friends off when they return to their dimension. They’d been in the planetarium for hours, and Duke had to end patrol and turn in for the day to look over cases with Steph and Tim, then work on his college application.

He does get a text from Danny, his new phone going off with a soft sound of a wind chime, in the middle of looking at different colleges and stressing out.

Danny: got home safe! off to fight dinner now 🤺

Danny: wanna talk more tomorrow?

Signal: sure! i’d love to!! good luck with dinner?

There’s a brief pause, and then Danny sends a blurry picture of a rotisserie chicken flying through the air towards a woman with red hair, holding out a steak knife, ready to attack.

…Yeah, he’s going to question that tomorrow. For now, he just sends Danny a thumbs up emoji and goes back to staring at his list of potential schools he wants to go to with growing despair.

Does he want to stay in Gotham? Gotham City University isn’t all that bad, and he’s familiar with the campus. Or maybe Montclair State University. Rowan University and Rutgers University don’t sound bad either, and both are still in the state, so he wouldn’t be too far from Gotham. Maybe he could go to his parent’s alma matter; UCLA and Penn State are both out of state, though, and way more expensive, even if Bruce offered to cover his tuition.

What would he even study?

So lost in thought, Duke almost doesn’t realize that his regular phone is ringing until the noise cuts off. His head jerks up and he stares at it, wondering who could be calling him right after he finished eating dinner.

Then it rings again, Barbara’s name popping up on the screen, and he lunges for it, worried that something’s going down in Gotham without him noticing.

“Babs! Is something wrong?”

“No. Should something be wrong? I was calling because you didn’t check in with me before you ended patrol, and you haven’t been responding to any of my texts,” she says, sounding distracted as the sound of her keyboard continues on steadily in the background. She must be working as Oracle already, preparing to assist the Bats on their patrols.

“Oh, sorry. Everything’s fine, our visitors were from another dimension and they really were just here to sightsee. Nothing to worry about.”

“I saw that you got a gift.”

Duke understands exactly what she’s calling about, now. He should have expected Barbara to fall to the siren call of new tech. “I did,” he says, offering nothing else just to mess with her.

“Duke,” she says, “It’s a matter of safety.”

“Just admit that you want to check out interdimensional tech.”

Barbara sighs, then says, “I want to look at interdimensional tech. Come by the Clocktower tonight and drop it off.”

“I don’t know, Babs,” he says teasingly, “I think Tim might want a look at it first.”

“I should have never believed Dick when he said you were well behaved. ‘The good one’ my ass,” she grumbles. “What do you want?”

“A favor to be decided in the future. No questions asked expect what’s needed to get that favor done.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll swing by soon. Do you think you could help me with my college apps while I’m there? I have no idea what to do or where to go.”

“Sure,” Barbara agrees, her voice warm, “I’d love the chance to big sister you. Jason hogs you too much.”

He does, and Duke doesn’t really understand why Jason gets along so well with him, but he’s not going to question a good thing. Street kids gotta stick together, after all. Even if neither of them are living on the streets anymore.

It’s nice to know that the others are just as willing to help him out, even if he works separate from them most of the time these days.

“Oh, and the phone I got from Danny has contacts already added to it. Please don’t text Danny or anyone else without saying it’s you.”

“That sounds like you’re giving me permission to talk to me.”

“I figured you’d want to talk to Tucker some, since he’s the one who built it.”

“Well,” Barbara says, and he can hear the smile in her voice, “Thanks for the permission. I’ll be sure to get as much information as I can from him.”

“Please don’t ruin this for me.”

Barbara laughs. “Oh, don’t worry Duke. I know how to be nice, especially with people you’re trying to impress. It’s Dick you should be worried about.”

She’s right.

Duke drops his head onto his desk with a groan.

“I’ll see you later, Duke.”

“Yeah, alright. See you, Babs.”

She ends the call and Duke sighs, contemplating taking a nap before he heads out. But that would mess up his sleep schedule, and he’s willing to do a lot, but not that. Instead, he flicks through his phone to the group chat with his friends, and sends a quick question about when they can hang out again.

He’s missed them. Seeing Danny with Tucker and Sam reminded him of how much he loves his friends and spending time with them. He should take a page from Danny’s book and spend a day with them, just catching up and enjoying their company.

And if they tease him about his crush on Danny, well, better them than the Bats.

#ghostlights #duke thomas/danny fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fic #my writing #its been months but the second chapter is here and the boys are even cuter than before!!#tbh i dont think ive ever written such a fast burn before #now to think of a name for this ghostlights series on ao3...

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 7 months

Text

The Best Present

An: Today is Kenny’s birthday so of course I had to write something!

(Kenny Is referred to as Tyson)

Summary: Spending Tyson’s 40th birthday with fem reader and their 1 year old daughter Violet!

Word count: 682

Tyson hated his birthday. Every year was the same, he didn’t want a party but I would convince him and of course he would have a good time. This year however was a special year, this year Tyson would be turning 40 and I knew that terrified him. I tried to plan a big party with all of our friends and family but of course Ty hated the idea. So we would celebrate his big day with just the two of us and our one year old daughter Violet until Wednesday when we would go out to dinner after dynamite with friends to celebrate.

I didn’t quite understand why he didn’t like to celebrate his birthday, I know most people don’t like their birthday but Tyson was different. It was almost like he was embarrassed of it.

I woke up bright and early and started working on a cake for Ty. His only request each year was for me to make him a german chocolate cake and let him sleep in. This would mark the 10th german chocolate cake I would make for his special day and each year it seemed to get more special. Tyson claimed to love my cake, I thought he was just lying at first, since my baking skills can be questionable at times but 10 years of the exact same cake would say otherwise. Unless he is just extremely committed to the lie.

After I put the cake in the oven I decided to make a nice breakfast as I waited for Tyson to wake up. As if on cue, he came downstairs right as I finished setting the table. You could tell that he was exhausted but nonetheless he still looked just as handsome.

“Good morning birthday boy!” I said in a gentle tone, embracing him in a hug

“Good morning” He replied half asleep. “Did you do this for me?” Tyson asked, looking towards the feast laid out on the table.

“Of course, anything for you my love” I said as I placed a kiss on his cheek. I turned to grab a fresh cup of coffee to give Tyson but it was almost like he vanished into thin air. Not thinking too much about it, I went back to preparing things in the kitchen until I heard noise coming from the baby monitor. I quickly realized that it was Tyson, who seemed to be talking with Violet.

“Hi, my angel. I hope you had an amazing sleep” Everynow and then I would catch Ty talking with Violet and it always made me smile. Just then I heard Violet say “Birthday”, it wasn’t perfect but she definitely said it. I was internally high fiving myself, I had spent weeks trying to teach her the word for Tyson’s big day.

“Yeah, it is my birthday. You are so smart Violet” I could hear his voice crack a bit as he spoke.

“I must say you are the best present. I wish I had you years ago, I don’t know what I would have done without you Violet” I could hear his voice start to tremble as he spoke and I could feel my throat start to get dry.

“Come on Violet, let’s go see Mom before she starts to wonder where we are” I could hear them start to make their way back to the kitchen so I ran back to the table, pretending that I didn’t hear the whole conversation.

“There you are, good morning Violet!” I said as I approached the pair, giving them both a hug and kiss. “Who’s ready for some breakfast?” I asked as I took Violet from Tyson, putting her in her high chair.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you” Tyson said, as he held me in a tight embrace

“For what?” I asked, playing dumb

“For everything, I really don’t deserve any of this”

“Yes you do, stop saying that alright. I love you so much, okay. Like a ridiculously amount alright. And I will continue to love you for the rest of my life Tyson!”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to have another baby with you”

“What?”

#bullet clubs bitch #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #aew fanfiction #the elite #kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fanfiction #kenny the cleaner #kenny omega fluff #kenny x reader #kenny omega smut #kenny omega aew #kenny omega masterlist

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months

Text

What we have is worth fighting for (Lance Stroll)

Lance's lifestyle seems so different to your own that your mind has no other place to go other than doubt

Note: english is not my first language. Here's some Lance for you. And also a topic that whenever I have way too much time, I sometimes think about and I have yet to reach a proper conclusion. Do I like how this turned out? I'm not sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader has worries and negative thoughts that could be associated with anxiousness

"Do you have time to go to my place for a bit? I know you have an early morning tomorrow.", Lance pointed out despite wanting to enjoy your company for a little longer. Looking at your wristwatch, you debated it, figuring that, realistically, another night where you slept a little bit less was not going to make a difference considering you hadn't slept the recommended amount of hours since you were a teenager, "I have time", you smiled, allowing Lance to open the door on the passengers' side of his car so you could get in.

It was not the first time you had been in his car on your way to his place. From the beggining, you understood that while Lance had a very public job, he preferred to keep the other parts of his life on the private side, hence the fact that you had kept your dates as private as possible, in smaller places in town that you knew of and between your flat and his place. You sat in his big sofa after leaving your shoes at the door, making yourself as comfortable as you could while he went to the laundry room, mentioning something about a blanket he had spilled some tea on.

"The stain is cleaned, so, there you go", Lance announced, arriving with the soft material in his arm and giving it to you, "do you want some tea? I think I found the one we had at your place last week", he offered, accepting your nod, "yes, please", and heading for his kitchen.

Looking around, you couldn't help the curiosity that came over you as you looked at all the picture frames while laying the blanket on top of your legs. Some family holidays, you presumed, with Lance and his sister playing in snow in some pictures, but also some with a beautiful beach in the background. The pictures with a city background made it harder for you to guess where it was, some aspects allowing you to distinguish between probable different continents given the architectural design of the buildings, but still not enough to list all of them. "Don't look to close or you might start loosing interest", Lance startled you as he walked with two steaming mugs, setting them on the coasters on the coffee table in front of you.

Blushing for being caught, you thanked him and held the mug between your hands, taking a sip from it as you expected him to pick up on any subject we'd want to talk about. Lately, every day you had spent some time with Lance, it usually ended up in either of your places, just talking while having some form of snack or drinks. He was definitely not who you expected to click with, much less with how quick it happened. You felt yourself roll your eyes everytime you thought about it, but he was the picture you imagined whenever someone questioned you about the qualities in the partner you were looking for.

"I think it's time for me to go home", you admitted reluctantly, realising that if you didn't, you would suffer the consequences while you were attending lectures, "let me take you then", Lance smiled, patting his thighs and getting up while you folded the blanket. "No, no need, I can just call an Uber, I-", you were interrupted by Lance, "Nonsense, I suggested we come here, and I have the time, I'll do it", he noted, grabbing his car keys once he put his shoes on and leading the way.

"Hey, are you having a good day? I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time", Lance asked over the phone, the sound of the blinker allowing you to presume he was driving, "hello! I've had a full day, I'm leaving the library now - thank you, see you tomorrow -, sorry, I was just talking to the desk lady, but yes, it's been work heavy, but I got all of it done", you smiled and sighed, the tiredness overcoming your body as you walked down the stairs.

"That's good, Y/N, that's amazing!", he reinforced, "how would you feel about having something to eat together? I know you probably don't want to go anywhere, so how about I get us some take away and I meet you at your place?", he offered, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Given your busy schedule and how tired you got when it all piled up, it was not easy for some of your friends to understand that you preferred to stay in instead of going out.

"That's a nice plan. I'm going home now, so I'll meet you there? I just have to change out of these clothes so I look a little bit more presentable", you chuckled, "I'm sure you look the prettiest", he urged over the phone, "I'm going to call and make the order and then I'll let you know when I'm heading to your place", he finished, bidding goodbye to eachother as you walked home.

Walking inside your small flat, you thanked your past self for having taken care of cleaning it during the weekend, only having to put away some textbooks and some folders so the papers wouldn't be floating around the living room. It didn't take long before Lance texted you saying he already had the food with him and that he was making his way to your place.

You were setting the table when you heard the knock on the door, looking around and checking if anything else was misplaced before opening the door, "hey! Come in", you urged him, seeing Lance carrying two bags of food, "can you bring those to the table, please? I'll just leave my shoes and coat here", he smiled charmingly, doing so while you carried the bags to the table, wondering what he could've possibly bought that was so heavy.

"I'm here!", Lance approached you, kissing your cheek and showing you a small bunch of flowers, "the shop by the restaurant only had these left, they were just about to close and the lady made them look as pretty as possible", be smiled, handing you the nice smelling flowers, "Oh, I wasn't expecting these, thank you!", you smiled, kissing his cheek and he took the opportunity to squeeze you into a hug, "it's alright", he forwarded, "Shall we eat though? I'm quite hungry, and I bet you are too, so I got a little portion of a few things from this italian that is really really good. I went there with my sister when she and her husband visited and they loved it, too!", he said as he took the take out boxes from the paper bags.

Despite there being a lot of different starters and main dishes, they had been perfectly portioned so they would satisfy both of you and not leave any leftovers, "Oh, try this! It's incredible", you mentioned, swirling your fork so you could gather the pasta and forming a shell with your hand so the sauce wouldn't drip and you could give it to Lance, not even thinking about how the gesture would be perceived. Quickly, Lance ate the forkful and groaned, not seeming to have minded it, "it tastes amazing! But is is better than this one?", he quirked, doing the same wirh his fork and feeding you a ravioli, smiling when he noticed your puffed out cheeks blowing air so it wouldn't be as hot.

Like usual, conversation flowed easily and you had a great night, ending up sitting together on your sofa and had slowly inched closer to one another, "today really tired you out, hm? Do you want me to leave?", Lance said, noticing you were nearly falling asleep on his shoulder, "no, don't leave", you quickly replied, "but yes, I had a lot to get through", you noted, feeling his head turn to look at you, "what tasks did you so then? Is it that research project?", he curiously asked. Looking back up at him, you listed all the things you had done, "we got to the next phase already, so that's been good, but also more work. Then some spreadsheets where I almost lost my mind, but some video on YouTube explained it, so that was sorted", you said, "and that was it. I know it sounds like I didn't do much, but it did consume some energy", you blushed, "Why would you say that? You are in front of all these projects and making sure things are running smoothly. That's not an easy job, you should be proud of yourself, like I am", he tempted. It wasn't the first time he had said something like that, and he hoped you were starting to catch up on his intentions. It was hard to deny the attraction he felt for you, but also how you just clicked. Lance hadn't felt like that about someone in a really long time, where he thought that someone could be it in the long run. While he didn't want to come on too strong or feel like he was on a clock, he also wanted to make sure you knew where he stood when it came to you.

"You are?", you questioned, maybe a bit too strong for the average person's liking, but it was not a word you heard everyday, much less a feeling you knew people had for you. "Yes, I'm very proud of you. Of what you're doing and how you're doing it", Lance looked straight into your eyes, "I'm also growing very fond of you. I really like you, Y/N", he gazed between your lips and your eyes.

"I really like you too, Lance", you whispered, afraid to disturb if you spoke to loud you'd ruin the moment, pushing your face closer to his so you could show him that if he wanted to, you were all in as well.

The Canadian driver took this opportunity to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb on your clean cheek before he pressed his lips to yours, lips moudling perfectly with one another. Smiling within the kiss, you wetr the first to break it off for air, looking up at him, "seems we're on the same page then".

You spent the rest of the night basking in eachothers affection, feeling brave enough to do so now that you both knew how the other felt and enjoying how it made you feel until Lance had to leave, "tomorrow has an early start for me, so I better get going", he groaned, getting up from the sofa and holding his hand out, making you attach your hand to his. Thinking he was just helping you up, you were surprised when he pushed you up with enough strength to face his, chest to chest so he could kiss your forehead, "C'mon, I want to help you tidy the kitchen before I leave", he smiled, guiding you both to the room in question so you could do so.

Lance had already left with a kiss of goodnight and a promise he would text you when he got gome, leaving you to close the apartment and also get ready for bed. Walking out of the kitchen, you noticed that you had left one of the paper bags on the floor, grabbing it so you could fold it for another time when you heard some wrinkling. Inside, the noise belonged to the receipt of the order, and you grabbed it mindlessly and a little curious. The food was great, you recognised, but the price Lance paid for a middle of the week take away was out of whatever you could have imagined. He insisted he wanted to pay for it all, despite you saying that you should at least pay your half, and now you couldn't help but think how normal and fine it had been for him to just swipe his card and pay for it. Probably like the no big deal that it was for him.

Lance was away for a race weekend, and despite the busy schedule, he still found time to videocall you, always looking forward to hearing how your day went and what you had been up to, "we just started on the data collection, and it's going really well. It's not some groundbreaking thing right now, but it's going somewhere, I can feel it", you smiled, "and you? The car seemed good today", you asked him, seeing his smile that went immediately to your stomach, butterflies erupting into a dance.

"Yes, it was incredible! It finally feels like we have a car that can takes us to the podium of the championship, you know? It's a pleasure to drive and the track is awesome!", he beamed, "I just wish you were here with me to experience it all, the city's really cool too", he offered, listing a few activities he had done and places he had seen.

There was another thing that got your mind spinning. As much as you didn't like to admit it, those thoughts had been plaguing your mind for a few days now. If there was some scale to assess it, you're Lance's lifestyle and your own would be pretty far from eachothers. He spent the better part of his year travelling around the world, staying in the most luxurious hotels and enjoying the most incredible experiences. On your end, you were lucky if you got enough time to take some time off and away from all the work. If this was to go further, your schedule and your lifestyle wouldn't allow you to be the partner that travels to nearly all the races or the one that is seen strutting around the paddock in the most lavish outfits. Would that be an obstacle in the relationship you were building with Lance? Should you start backing out now?

"Hey, Y/N?", he called, "is everything okay? I think I lost you there for a bit", he smiled, teasing you even though there was also a slight concern, "are you too tired? I probably shouldn't have called so late, right?", he forwarded. Despite not wanting him to feel guilty about it, you took the opportunity since your mind wasn't settling, "don't feel guilty, Lance. I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights and it's catching up on me", you half lied, "but I think I might have an early night today, see if sleep comes around", you smiled genuinely at the screen as you saw his features soften, "alright, sweetheart. Have a good sleep", he softly said, blowing you a kiss while you did the same, dialing off the call and pressing the phone to your chest.

Would this feeling on your chest ever settle down? Would your mind stop racing about thoughts about why you'd never fit in Lance's life? The worry grew even bigger, considering you were probably not going to fall asleep for a while.

Sitting at Lance's dining table after spending the entire afternoon with him, you tried your best to mask the thoughts that had been plaguing you and that you hadn't managed to shut off. But apparently, not with enough skill, "there's something worrying you, I can tell that much", he noted, "is it something I can help you with? Also totally okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I don't like seeing you so stressed", he launched his hand so it would land on top of yours, softly caressing the skin.

"Can I be really honest with you about what has been bothering me?", you asked, already knowing this would be an important conversation and no matter where it ended up going, it needed to happen sooner rather than later, "sure, Y/N, absolutely", he assured, growing a little bit more concerned at your tone.

"I don't fit in this, Lance", you began, gesturing your hands around, "your world is so different than mine in so many ways, I could never fit in it", you gulped, "you were just saying earlier this afternoon that maybe it was time for us to take the next step, and I don't know if I can", you stopped to gather your thoughts.

"It's okay if you're not ready, I'll wait. And I didn't want to pressure you, I'm sorry if it felt like that", Lance was quick to say, an expression of guilt somehow in his features.

"No, it's not because I don't have feelings for you, because they're here, they're very much here!", you chuckled nervously, "I just don't think I fit in your life like it was supposed to be, like it's expected", you mumbled the last part, forcing yourself to look at him. It pained you as well, because the look on his face was also painful. He wasn't expecting you to feel like this, so much so that there was little to ask but "did I do something to make you feel like that?", still not sure if it was what he wanted to ask.

"No, it's just that our worlds are different. You paid the equivalent of my university monthly tuition for a dinner that was lovely, but still! That's how different we are, we don't align", you gestured, "I could never be the partner you need. My schedule could never be the same if you wanted me to be at races, because I can't be travelling here and there every weekend. And I'm not someone who attends galas and fancy dinners", you hiccuped, the pressure on your throat building up. Even though you had this perspective, it didn't mean that your feelings were on the same page as it.

"And don't take this the wrong way. I have loved every moment we've spent together, and everything you've done for me. And I'm not blaminh you. Your parents did everything they could for your best, and that's not a bad thing. Don't think I'm pointing fingers because I'm not, it's a privilege you have and it is no one's business, much less my business either. But I don't have it", you let out a shuddered breath.

Lance was at a loss for words, gathering his thoughts before he said something that might come out the wrong way, "and is that something that is a deal breaker?", he asked, "Isn't it? I'm not the person people like you go after. Take a look at everyone on the paddock. All the wives and girlfriends are the opposite of me. Anyone you're supposed to be seen with, to have some sort of a relationship with, they're not me, they're not what you think whenever you imagine someone who relates to you in some way", you gulped again, the tears now clouding you eyes.

"You see, Y/N, it's because of those things that I know we have something good. I don't give a care about what other people think who I should have a relationship with. I never wanted someone according to whatever standard, much less after I met you", he smiled, "you are a breath of fresh air in my life, and I needed that so blady. You showed me that there's so much more to love. You have listened to me, you've been there for the highs and the lows, you've allowed me inside your life and showed me the force of nature that you are", he tempted your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, "yes, all of those scenarios are frequent in my life, and I understand that I'm not around as much as other partners, but it will be my biggest mistake if I let you go without a fight, without showing you that what we have is too good to go", he urged you to look at him, lowering his head so he could catch your eyes and bring your eyelines up a little.

"You know, I texted you during the breaks between free practices and my mother commented that she finally found out why I was so happy, all because I was smiling at the picture you sent me from the library", he smiled, blush covering his cheeks, "and, while we are on this, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have the money, because I have. And I don't pay for things to show it off, I do it because I can and it allows me to show people that I care about them", he explained, "if I ever made you feel uncomfortable because of it, it wasn't intentional. I don't need big plans to feel good with you. I'm happy just sitting next to you on the sofa while we watch some TV or while you read some books", he shrugged, "I'm not even a fan of those big events myself, so I wouldn't want you to be one.

"All I know is that I think we're good together, and I want this to work so bad. I want to be with you if you'll allow me", he squeezed your hand, "or, at least, allow me to show you that what we have is good and that it is worth fighting for", he finished.

You felt somewhat guilty for how you felt about it, even though you also knew you weren't being unreasonable, "I'm sorry, but it was eating me away and, yeah, I didn't know how to go about it", you gestured between your bodies, seeing Lance open his arms so you could sit in his lap, "it's okay, I'm glad we talked about it and everything is clarified. We can always talk about these things, I'm very happy that we did. Even though I'm a little saddened that you think so low of yourself, Y/N", he flicked your hair behind your ear, "you're so amazing, you don't even know it. Your passion about your work, the way you love other people, the way you care about them. All of your concerns that you're not like the others? It's what makes me love you even more, what makes me want this, us, to be it", he smiled, kissing your nose when he saw your smile, moving to kiss your lips multiple times, "now, I've admitted verbally that I love you two times, and I'm yet to know how this goes", he teased.

Smiling again, you craddled Lance's face in your hands, "In case I wasn't clear, I love you too", you giggled, "Good. That's good. I will make it my mission to make sure you know it everyday, but until then, I will enjoy having my girlfriend in my arms", he mumbled, pulling you closer to him, "it's a good thing we are both homebodies then".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll × reader #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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bogunicorn · 10 months

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Inquisition companion coffee orders and how they'd be at a coffee shop, based on the less than a year I spent working at fake starbucks many years ago. In a different order than my last post, just for the hell of it. Some of these are based on real customers that I still remember. I wrote this at 5am when I was high and unable to sleep so keep that in mind if you think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong but you should keep it in mind. H'kay let's go

Josephine: large americano, extra shots, cream and sugar and sometimes a shot of a seasonal flavor if it's a special day. She comes in twice a day, she tips, and the baristas are all trying to figure out how she hasn't had a heart attack yet from having that much caffeine every day. Staff knows her name and likes her.

Dorian: Iced white chocolate mocha. It's the only thing he gets. He will not drink it hot. He will not try a different flavor. He shows up in the morning and orders two, one with ice and one without, and be puts the one without ice in the fridge to drink later. Staff knows him on sight, but they make him state his order every day as if they don't because he doesn't tip.

Varric: regular brewed coffee, but he likes to hang out at the cafe, work on his books, meet with people, etc. He's really nice, he over tips, and sometimes the staff "forgets" to charge him for a refill. He also orders whatever food they're running out of because he figures that means it's popular and therefore good.

Solas: Decaf brewed coffee, and then he puts a disgusting amount of sugar and cream into it. He actually hates coffee and refuses to drink caffeine, but he doesn't come for the drinks, he comes to people watch and do life drawings. He needs the coffee so he has a purchase that can reasonably last him hours before he's expected to spend more money, and hot coffee won't leave condensation on the table and get his paper wet. Staff knows him and their advice to each other is not to ask him questions because he will answer you, at length, in great detail, if it's something he knows about. But he occasionally just puts a couple 20s in the tip jar, so they've decided he's cool but kind of a weird nerd.

Blackwall: Seems like he'd be a "just a NORMAL COFFEE" kind of guy, but he's actually one of the staff's favorite customers. He's some kind of blue collar worker who comes in on the way to work and on the way home, and he gets the same thing every day: regular hot latte in the morning, decaf hot latte at night. He's always there at rush times, but he's polite and he tips even when service is crowded and messy. The baristas start making his coffee when we walks in the door if they notice him, so he rarely has to wait, but he seems flattered and grateful every time.

Sera: Her order is different every time she comes in and it's always something all fucked up and weird. Half the time she just shows them a screenshot on her phone of some complicated meme recipe from TikTok, or she wants whatever technicolor monstrosity frappuccino that's on special. The staff dreads her order, but she also has a habit of getting belligerent with customers who give the staff a hard time, so they're pretty sure Sera is like a part time security guard who demands meme drinks in payment. They're allowed to complain about her if they want, but they'll malicious compliance the fuck out or anyone else who does.

Iron Bull: He doesn't have a single go-to order, but he's nice and likes to ask the staff for recommendations if it's not too busy and lets them test new recipes on him. He always tries the seasonal flavors at least once. Sometimes he comes in with a group of friends who look like trouble on first glance, but Bull pays for them all at once, doesn't let them order blended drinks, and always makes sure they clean up after themselves, so it's okay.

Cullen: Just a NORMAL COFFEE. He's totally overwhelmed by the amount of choices, but this is the closest place to his office and getting out to buy coffee is his excuse to take a break and stretch his legs. The staff knows him and actually responds to "just a normal coffew" because it's too much trouble to interrogate him about which roast or what size cup, because last time he said, "I don't know, something dark? Whatever has the most caffeine in just a regular size to go cup." He's been drinking a medium blonde roast for years and still doesn't know what blonde roast is, save that he thinks he doesn't like it.

Leliana: Two shots of espresso over ice. Leliana had shit to do and she needs that caffeine in her body as fast as possible. The ice is there to keep her from burning her mouth off. She drinks it like it's whiskey and throws out her cup without even breaking stride.

Cole: Year round pumpkin spiced latte. If they're out of the syrup, he gets the cheapest thing on the menu, no add ins, and then doesn't drink it. He rarely comes in on his own; Cole is usually there with a friend and is aware that it's rude to be there without buying, but the pumpkin spice is the only thing he actually likes. He's polite but he creeps out the other customers with his thousand yard stare.

Cassandra: London Fog, but she never remembers what it's called. She drinks it because she wasn't sure and someone recommended it, but the name just will not stick in her head. She orders it as "hot Earl Grey tea with milk", she listens every time they say "okay, so a London Fog", but by the next time she's in she's forgotten. It's not really a big deal, though, she seems pretty overworked. At this point the staff would be sad if she did remember, honestly.

Vivienne: "The Usual". Literally only one barista knows her order, because it's some customized thing that that specific barista made for her once ages ago. Viv knows what's it in but she will not tell you because she doesn't trust anyone but that one barista to make it. If her regular person isn't around, she just gets a hot latte with sugar free vanilla. That one barista also won't tell you what's in it, but that's because Vivienne tips them directly instead of in the jar and they don't want to ruin a good thing.

**also if you like this and think "i'm gonna give this fine person a follow because they're so funny about dragon age", i made a new DA sideblog at @skyholdstarbucks where i'd post anything similar to this in the future

#bog post #i need a dedicated tag for these if I'm gonna keep doing them #dragon age #dai #cullen rutherford #leliana #josephine montilyet #cassandra pentaghast #blackwall #the iron bull #varric tethras #sera #cole #solas #vivienne de fer #dorian pavus #da headcanons

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marinetteplztakeabreak · 9 months

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Im so in love with the narrative use of sentimonsters in ml???? And how it serves as a metaphor for parents who are Wrong??

You have Félix, who’s the most direct case of “parent thinks that having a child is like a little trophy and checkmark on the list and doesn’t want the child to actually be a person or exist or cause inconvenience.” His father literally didn’t see him as a person and based on the fact that he literally broke Félix’s miraculous he seemed to see Félix as either disposable or unbreakable. There was no sense that he needed to be loved or protected.

But then you also have Adrien, who Gabriel *theoretically* loves. I think Gabriel actually thinks that he loves Adrien as a person. But he has this idea that he can make Adrien happy through obedience alone. He thinks he can just order Adrien to be content or to have the same priorities as him. He calls Adrien melodramatic a few times even and it’s like???

Gabriel *theoretically* wants Adrien to be happy but it doesn’t cross his mind that it’s going to take more than him yelling “hey Adrien i order you to be calm and content.” And ordering Adrien to love the career Gabriel Chooses and love the girl Gabriel Chooses for him and the hobbies that Gabriel Chooses for him. And when that doesn’t work he decides that Adrien is just Beyond His Help and will be better only with his mom there.

And it’s like???? Very fun nuance with this idea of,,, you cannot yell or force someone into being happy,,, it doesn’t matter if you have their best interest in mind,,, if you never listen to what they actually want or see them as a human person then you’ll still be the villian in their story

And THEN!!!!! You have Kagami who’s a completely different case even though she starts with the same circumstance. Because Kagami IS treated like a person and has a good amount of autonomy. It’s just all Conditional. She can do whatever she wants with her life as long as its also exactly what her mother wants. And her mother doesn’t always explain why. And the thing with that is!!! It DOES work for a while!!!! She does trust her mother and actually talk to her about things. And she will defend her mother to the ends of the earth.

But all it takes is that One argument where kagami says “hey . please stop making me date adrien. i dont want to . its hurting me” and tomoe TAKES HER RING instead of listening. And its like. Thats IT.

It doesnt matter if you spent years making a foundation of trust in a relationship because Eventually your kid is Going to grow up and theyre Going to disagree with you on Something Eventually. Kagami was so ready to listen to whatever her mother had to say but her mom didn’t elaborate on anything she just basically said “okay if you wont listen without question you dont get to have autonomy” and of COURSE kagami’s gonna be like. Okay. Bye then.

And i just think it’s soooo cool how there’s these different Layers of “parents forgetting that their child is a person and not a tool for your own personal gain” and that ml shows how it can manifest in so many different ways and it shows that it messes ,up trust and relationships and then it also shows that the kids are all okay once they have love and support and someone who treats them as a person with autonomy

and theres this theme of “it is not too much to ask that you be treated like a human person . no matter how broken or how much of a disappointment you think you are. you are still in the right for demanding to be seen as a person.” And i just. I really love my senti kids i love them soooo much

this show really said “it doesnt matter what sacrifices your parents made for you, youll never be an object that they own” and i just,,, yessssss

#ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #senti kagami #senti adrien #senti felix #kagami tsurugi #felix fathom #adrien agreste #ml meta

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johannestevans · 1 year

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Possibly an odd question, but……do you have advice on how to be a slut? I’m recently out as a gay trans man, in my 30’s, only ever been with straight cisgender men, and I have no idea where to start. Being on testosterone has helped with the dysphoria, but I can’t seem to let go of old habits from when I was a girl having sex with guys. You can ignore this if you don’t feel comfortable answering, I just thought given the nature of your blog you might have some really good insights

It's not an odd question at all, Anon - I think that for a lot of trans MLM and other people who were raised as or spent a long time being perceived as women transitioning to MLM spaces, it can be a really strange feeling because like... The attitudes to sex and pleasure are just so completely different.

In the West, the culture around sexual and dating life for women who have sex with men is obviously heavily influenced by patriarchal sexual objectification of women, and like...

I do want to write a bit more about this at some point, but straight hook-up and casual dating apps like Tinder and Hinge and so on came after Grindr, and while through the 00s and the 10s there's been a sense of sexual liberation for women who have sex with men, like... Many men still think of women as prizes to be won or status symbols and extensions of their reputation; many people as a rule still think of women as sexually disposable and easily exchangeable, and more than that, they think that women are permanently marked or have their value reduced by the amount of sex or sexual partners they have.

While there has been more discussion and awareness of consent within broader society, ultimately we still live in a patriarchal rape culture that positions men as sexual aggressors and women as receivers of sexual aggression, and ultimately like--

There's the obvious safety concerns to be taken into account, the understanding that women undertake a lot of risk of sexual violence in their pursuit of casual dating and hook-ups specifically because of the way that women are viewed and treated, and obviously with everything I've just said, none of it prioritises women's pleasure or even takes it into account unless it's the performance of pleasure for the sake of male viewers' titillation and satisfaction.

How can you meaningfully communicate about consent and pleasure, as someone perceived as a cis woman, with a cisgender man who thinks of you as sub-human, or as a prize or achievement to be won? How can you talk about what feels good and what you want from sex when your pleasure is viewed and talked about not only as an afterthought, but as something that's inherently less important than the pleasure of the men you have sex with?

How can you talk about sex and desire at all, when the culture you live in says in many ways, implicit and explicit, that you are not capable of such things, and shouldn't be? When it claims that women are sexually desirable, but men are not sexually desirable at all, and are merely beasts to be withstood and endured? When sex itself is something you're meant to be on the "receiving end" of, with your pleasure a side consideration if you're very lucky, and not a mutual experience you share with another person?

Cis women who have sex with men have all that to consider, and as trans men (or other trans people), we're also grappling with our dysphoria, our own feelings about our bodies and sex and desire, our relationships to other men, and particularly to the culture that's in MLM spaces.

I have two guides below - one is about vulvar and vaginal stimulation which is intended for masturbation and self-exploration, but is also good to explore with partners. I think one of the most powerful things we can have in our arsenals is understanding of our own body and our own likes and desires, and hopefully this can be a good starting place for that!

The second is a basic guide to using Grindr as a trans man (it should be usable for nonbinary and other trans ppl), and it also discusses some of the specifics in MLM cruising culture in passing.

Ringing The Devil’s Doorbell: A Light-Hearted, Practical Guide — Let’s talk sex! Vulvar and vaginal stimulation for fun, pleasure, and profit. On Medium.

Looking For 🍑🍆💦: A Beginner’s Guide to Grindr for Trans Men — Approaching Grindr and M/M cruising culture as a trans man. On Patreon / / On Medium.

Feel free to mention any specific bad habits you're having trouble with in follow-up asks, because I'm obviously not you and don't know your personal experiences.

I will say that like... If you do feel you have old habits that are things like not communicating your needs and desires or going silent, faking orgasms, going still and letting someone else "do" sex with you, etc, like.

The use of the phrase "habit" here troubles me a bit, you know? I feel like "old habit" might mean "bad habit" and like...

Cisgender women who do these things are not acting in a vaccuum, and nor are any trans people who are or were perceived as cis women. Nor are you. These are things that people ultimately do out of shame, trauma, uncertainty, fear of communicating explicitly, and a lack of confidence that is firmly embedded in us by a dominant culture that ultimately hates us. Hates women, employs misogyny, but also hates any kind of gender variance, as well as sex that's employed for reasons other than cis patriarchal sexual satisfaction and impregnation.

My point being that none of it is your fault. Not being confident with casual sex with men and/or with sex in general even though you'd like to embrace a slut era is not something to be ashamed of, it's not on you - apart from any dysphoria you might be feeling, even if you haven't experienced sexual violence or abuse, pretty much everyone has some ingrained traumas and fears given to us by the culture we live in, especially when we've been perceived as and treated as women.

So, how do we start with it?

Grindr is the obvious place to start for a lot of MLM - it's easy, it's convenient, it's right there. You might have safety concerns, though, because of the relative anonymity of it, especially if you haven't had sex or been in community with other MLM and queer men before, and you don't feel as comfortable navigating and measuring social or suspicious ones, especially over text!

When I went back to using Grindr after like eight years being celibate for Trauma Reasons, I went for fucking dudes who were staying in hotels - they were tourists, a lot of them, so I wasn't necessarily going to see them a bunch of times afterwards, but also, I preferred the safety of a hotel to seeing people at their homes.

Hotels are staffed, in public places, where you're easily within reach of other people, and unlike in apartment blocks or houses in neighbourhoods, people aren't going to ignore any loud noise and go "Oh it's none of my business" - they'll probably come out to see what the matter is. They also have private ensuite bathrooms, which is a nice convenience and not always guaranteed at someone's home.

Honestly, though? That's very much worse case scenario stuff.

One of the benefits of Grindr for me is that we normally talk in quite explicit terms before meeting up what we like, what we might want from the encounter - and when we meet up, it's normally pretty easy to communicate what we want out loud, saying, "let's do this" or "I like this" aloud as we touch and kiss each other.

The thing about MLM cruising culture and casual sex is that like...

For cis men and women, there is a vision of sex that's going to be upheld - they kiss. They lie in bed together. He puts his penis in her vagina. He thrusts until he comes. Sex is complete, because the man has come.

A lot of people will even refer to penis-in-vagina sex as "real" sex, or have ideas that penetrative sex is the only "real" or "full" sex because of its resemblance to PIV sex. Even when we talk about "foreplay", foreplay is considered almost a necessary evil to "ready" yourself for the real sex - the penetration.

Within MLM cruising culture, while penetration is absolutely the primary goal for a lot of people as a top or bottom, there are also sides (people who don't top or bottom), and even within topping and bottoming, there's plenty of other sex acts. Oral sex, nipple play, jacking each other off, massage, kink acts, etc.

I've had guys come over just to suck me off and then be like "thanks, I'm done" and go - and I've also BEEN that guy, because I love sucking dick, and sometimes it's its own reward.

The encounter is not necessarily finished because the top has orgasmed, either - if you are having penetrative sex, a lot of tops will make sure the bottom has come at least once first (just in terms of muscle relaxation, this is actually a good tip for vaginismus and/or tight anal and vaginal muscles), or they'll come and then start going down on you or fingering you because it's your turn now.

It's not all as simple as "taking turns" or anything, but the thing about MLM cruising culture is that like...

The whole basis of men meeting up to have sex with each other is that we love other men and we desire them. We desire to feel good with other men and to make other men feel good. It's historically been based in anonymity because this desire for each other and the nature of this desire had to be kept clandestine for our safety, but because of its clandestine and simultaneously casual (as in, unattached) nature, it is in many ways extremely sexually liberated.

MLM often explore different kinks and explore different people's desires and their bodies - it's curious and explorative, and a lot of it is about exploring different sex acts, positions, and perspectives of sexuality and relationships, because we already exist in counter to the mainstream cultural shames around sex. Just by desiring men and seeing men as desirable (especially as men ourselves), we're going against the domiannt perspective of the binary as like, women are beautiful, men are ugly.

While there are absolutely people who treat cruising as something transactional just for them to get their rocks off, it's a fundamentally different culture and philosophy around desire and sexuality compared to what exists with casual sex and dating for heterosexual people.

I'm sorry this is so much based in your potential perspective and the cultural aspects rather than specific explicit tips on how to slut around, so I will give a few specific tips on that now! It's just hard to know what angle you're looking for, and I do think a lot of the hardest part is changing our perspectives and exploring what we actually desire and need from our sex life.

So, some practical tips on slutting around:

testosterone is not a contraceptive! if you can't use a hormonal contraceptive like the pill or the implant, there are non-hormonal IUDs that you can use at the same time as condoms. if you want to fuck without condoms and can't use hormonal contraceptives, there's also the cap or contraceptive diaphragm!

you can buy condoms in bulk and it's so much cheaper - even the big brands will have bulk-buy options by the few dozen, and it's worth doing. always try and carry a few in your bag, have a few in your medicine cabinet. never go to a hook-up assuming they'll have condoms - always ask in advance and bring a few along!

regular size condoms will be fine in most scenarios, but your hook-up might need a larger size and/or have a latex allergy, so again, asking in advance is always a good idea

emergency contraceptives are not contraindicated with your testosterone. emergency contraceptives are also not contraindicated with emergency PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis), which will prevent you from contracting HIV after exposure. it is important after unprotected vaginal sex that you take both of these into account.

get tested regularly - if you do use Grindr, Grindr can actually regularly remind you to get your STI tests, especially your HIV! otherwise, every 3 to 6 months is a good shout depending on how much sex you're having - even if you never bareback and are on multiple contraceptives, regular STI tests (and pregnancy tests) are a good idea just in case. in ireland (and in some places in the UK), they will even let you do your STI tests for free by post!

use toys while you're having sex if you like them! Use a vibrator, use a vibrating cock ring, play around with it, have some fun! try different condoms - flavoured, ribbed, etc - and try different positions, too. explore, enjoy!

check out local queer and kink groups - there might be local BDSM meet-ups, kink events, raves etc, and it can be nice to be in touch with the local community, and you can pick up skills too, like by doing bondage workshops etc

try and hang out with other MLM, especially other trans MLM! even when you know in your own head that you desire men and to be desired by them, just being in community with other men where that desire is normalised and celebrated does so much to fucking kill the cishetero patriarchal brainworms. it takes a lot of time for any of us to unlearn that shit, and it's a process!

#trans mlm #mlm #long post for ts #musings #anonymous

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 3 months

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Nick Amaro- No Place Left For You To Be Shy

This is a continuation of A Crowded Bar Question.

This is NSFW!!!

I’m just going to be honest guys, I'm not sure about this one. I loved the vibe that I put into the previous part. I was so excited about this sex scene, and I had a whole plan for it. I just don’t know if I pulled it or Nick’s character off. And I can’t tell if it’s bad or just not what I wanted it to be... But I spent a few hours writing it so I'm posting it anyway.

It had been almost two months since the incident in the bar. The mark on your neck had faded away but your memory of the night and Nick Amaro’s touch hadn’t. You had thought about going to him and begging him to make good on his promise. You wanted to experience more of the fire that he had ignited in you. A fire you hadn’t ever felt with your ex. But Nick was right about more than just you being too drunk to consent to sex that night. You were vulnerable after your breakup. You needed some time to process everything and start to heal before you could jump into another man’s bed.

You have seen Nick several times since that night. You were surprised to find that he acted as if nothing had happened that night at the bar the first time you saw him again at a crime scene. Not that he ignored you either. He was his normal charming self. He had made small talk with you and checked in on how you were doing. It made you question if what you thought had happened that night really had. It was reaffirmed that it did indeed happen when just as you were packing up to leave. Your standard issue crime scene jumper had unzipped and pulled your shirt down leaving the mark on display. Nick’s warm hands had pulled the shirt back into place. He had made full eye contact before giving you a wink and a mischievous smile before leaving to return to his work.

Things had only been a little different, just enough for you to notice. You didn’t see Nick at every crime scene, you covered any of the various departments in Manhattan. However, when you did, he was just a little flirtier, his charm turned up a notch or two higher than normal. He also always seemed to find a reason to touch you. Nothing that could be considered inappropriate, but a hand on your shoulder or him brushing by just a little too closely. Every time he did it sent fire through your entire body, a shiver up your spine. It was clear that he was being respectful and waiting for you to make up your mind while showing you that he was still willing to fulfill his promise. You also had no doubt that if you told him to stop or even gave him a hint of being uncomfortable, he would stop immediately and without question.

The urge overtook you like most things did in your life, hitting you all at once and begging you to jump. Nick had offered sex that night at the bar and you wanted it. You didn’t know how it had happened but all at once his soft touches and flirty words sunk into your stomach and exploded into lust. You were doing your job when it happened. He had brushed by you just enough that you felt the heat of his body tease you along with the scent of his aftershave. Something snaps in you and before you can rethink your jump.

You finish bagging a bloodstained shirt when you call him over, “Detective,” He turns away from the other crewmembers and saunters over to you. It’s nothing out of the ordinary and nobody pays any attention, busy in their late-night work. He stops just a little too close and you turn into him making the amount of space smaller. You hold up the bag in false pretenses and he takes it. You drop your voice when you ask, “You want to make good on your offer?” It’s bold and you think he might ask you to be more direct and tell him exactly what you mean by that.

He doesn’t.

It is like a switch being flipped back on. The heat between you two begins to smolder. When you look up from the bag you handed him and meet his eyes there is an intensity that washes over you. You are in the CSU standard blue jumpsuit, but you never felt more exposed. It was like he could see right through it. The passion in his dark brown eyes, there was no mistaking that he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Was just waiting on you, Carino.” His words are a husky purr. When he senses someone coming towards you guys, he hands the evidence bag back to you. The roughness of the callous on his hands scratches against your gloves as his touch lingers with promise.

It hadn’t taken long for you to receive a text from an unknown number asking about the next night. You hadn’t questioned how he had gotten your number, just saved him to your contacts under the name Amaro. You guys agreed that your place would be the better choice because his five-year-old daughter Zara was living full-time with him. You could understand him not wanting to bring you into his child’s home even with her being away for the night with her grandmother. It was just better that way, simpler.

You knew it would be awkward. You had never set up a one-night stand before. Not to mention you were younger than Nick. Not by a lot but enough to make you feel like he was the more experienced. Anxiety and lust fought inside your stomach as you waited for Nick to show up. You drank some wine to just take the edge off. It was a sharp fruity flavor that you could barely taste the alcohol. You only had glass but it helped ease the nerves.

It was a little awkward when Nick first arrived. There was no immediate ripping of clothes off like hookups on TV. Nick was a detective, and his assessing eyes took over your small but mostly tidy apartment as soon as he walked in the door. You were still starting out in a small one-bedroom apartment. The look of the place was bohemian with pops of color and pattern. Your ex who wanted everything to look like it had just come out of a magazine had hated it. It was too girly and not tasteful enough. You had grown up in a lower-middle-class family in a small town. Your home wasn’t supposed to be about first impressions but self-expression and comfort. Nick didn’t seem to mind at all and after his obligatory checking of the room, his attention was returned to you.

The heat of his body was becoming familiar to you as he stepped into your space. His thumb brushed across your cheek as he tilted your head and his lip caught yours. Just like that the switch had been turned back on. Lust bloomed through your body along with an intoxicating heat. You pushed onto your toes to get closer, your arm hesitantly coming up to his neck. You moaned as his tongue ran over your bottom lip. You allowed the kiss to deepen but Nick pulled back tasting the alcohol still lingering in your mouth. Your brows crinkled in confusion. “You’ve been drinking.”

“It was only a glass of wine. I’m not drunk.” He pushes your hair out of your face, his perspective eyes studying yours. You stare back at him with no hesitation because you know he won’t find any deceit there. You're not drunk. He isn’t taking advantage of you. You want to have sex with him. It had been so long; your ex and you had stopped months before the breakup.

“You know we don’t have to do this. That any time you can say no.” You smile at him. He works at SVU it made sense that he wanted confirmed consent. It was sweet, even if it was slightly unexpected. You easily oblige him.

“I know but I want to.” You press your body fully into his feeling heat bloom through you as you rub up against him as you lean up for a kiss. “I want you to make good on your promise. Please.” It seems to be all the encouragement that he needs. His lips find yours again for a hot open mouth kiss. The kisses were sloppy and needy.

Even with taking a few minutes to find a rhythm, it was clear that Nick was a great kisser. It seemed that charming women wasn’t the only thing that Nick’s tongue was good at. The awkwardness passed in a flash. The kisses continued as he backed you into your bedroom. He took his time undressing you, starting with your shirt and bra, kissing every inch of the newly exposed skin. He laid you on the bed as his lips traveled down your neck towards your now bare chest. His hands rub up your ribs causing you to shiver. One of his hands found your breast as his mouth latched on to your other nipple. You groaned and arched into him gripping his shoulders. His tongue circles your hardened nipple insistently and you hiss when he bites down just hard enough to leave an echo of pain that he soothes with his mouth. The pain mixes with your pleasure and you can feel the rush of arousal dampen your already wet panties. He switches to the other to give it the same attention.

You tug at his crisp white dress shirt. While you were half naked Nick hadn’t lost any clothes yet aside from his suit jacket and shoes that he had taken off at the door. You had just managed to pull the shirt free of his pants and your fingers had finally found hot, tanned skin when he pulled back. His body heat was taken away as he stood leaving you cold and feeling exposed your arms crossed your chest unconsciously.

Nick who was standing in front of you unbuttoning his shirt caught the movement and he tsked, “Oh hermosa, te sientes timida? (beautiful, are you feeling shy?) I promise you, by the end of the night you are going to feel like a Reina (queen).” There was surety in his tone as he undid the buttons on his cuffs before rolling them up his forearms and taking the shirt off. He leaned forward, putting his hands on either side of you caging you in. Your eyes were fixated on his newly exposed toned chest. He closed the distance and you arched into him when his naked chest brushed yours. You wrapped your arms around him caressing his back. He left an open-mouthed kiss on your neck before whispering in your ear. “I’m going to make you feel poderosa, caliente, y en control de tu sexualidad. (Powerful, hot, and in control of your sexuality) There will be no space left for you to feel shy.”

His fingers brushed the waistband of your jeans. Your hips rocked up in response. He chuckled making quick work of your jeans leaving you in only a pair of soaked panties. He groaned as he cupped you rubbing you over the wet lace. “You’re already soaked. ¿Necesitabas desesperadamente esta atención? (Were you in desperate need of this attention?)” He presses one finger against your core and your fingertips curl into his skin as it easily slides in. He pumps it inside you a few times before adding a second. Your nails scratch at his back as you rock firmly against him. You curse as he pulls them out of you once again leaving you needy and squirming.

“Nick,” It comes out breathless, and his face wears a cocky smirk. He brings the fingers that were just inside you to his greedy mouth and sucks them clean while he looks straight into your eyes. And fuck is it hot. Everything Nick does is somehow sensual. You’ve never been this wet this quickly before. Who knew Spanish words, only half of which you could understand could turn you on so much. Wasn’t French supposed to be the seductive language? Or would it not have the same effect if it didn’t come from Nick’s wicked mouth?

You watch that hand leave his lips and go down to his belt. You can feel his heavy stare on you as you watch him shed his pants and then his underwear. Your lips part in an inaudible gasp. Nick Amaro in all his glory is a sight as hot as sin. He is also above average... and then some. His cock is thick and long and already fully hard. It was bigger than anyone that you had ever been with, and your ex by far. You watched with rapid attention as his hand wrapped around his dick pumping it a few times. “Carino,” Your eyes shoot up to Nick’s blush staining your cheeks. His fingers curl around the elastic of your panties and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. “Slide back on the bed and get on your knees for me.”

You do as you're told, and he follows you onto the bed. He kisses you again, rougher more demanding. You moan into the kiss while his hands trail over your body, gripping and stroking your naked form. He broke the kiss by pulling at your hip forcing you to turn around, so your back was pressed tightly against his chest. He ground his cock against your ass and you both groaned.

You were a little confused by the abrupt change in position when he was the one who had requested it. When you looked up though you realized why. Nick had positioned you directly in front of the mirror that you were now facing. His eyes were trained on yours in its reflection. You dropped your head letting your eyes fall closed. Nick’s mouth was hot and wet as he kissed up your neck to your ear. Two of his fingers found your soaking core again. You moaned when he started pumping them in and out of your wet heat, his fingers curling deliciously inside of you. The fire in your belly grew as you rutted into his fingers. His other hand slid up your body making its way to your throat. The pressure was gentle, barely there, raising your chin up. Your eyes open and you find his in the mirror again.

His hot breath made you shudder as he whispered into your ear, “I’m going to show you how a man should make you feel. I’m going to give you everything you want, and more.” You groan his name in response. His tongue traces the shell of your ear, “The only thing I want you to do for me is watch. I want you to watch me take you there. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

You aren’t sure if you can, but Nick’s fingers are still working you and his thumb has found your clit. The rubbing is madding and pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm you can feel it clenching your stomach. Your eyes go down the mirror and watch as his fingers fuck into your cunt. His other hand is sliding back around you as he plays with a nipple. Your orgasm hits you less than a minute later. You force your head back onto his shoulder your hips bucking into his fingers sloppily as he works you through your pleasure.

When you come back to yourself you notice that Nick’s rocking against your ass more firmly now. His precum leaked onto your skin. His fingers have stopped, and he slowly removes them from your core. When nothing else follows you open your eyes and look back into the mirror to find Nick’s brown eyes. “That’s a good girl.” He continues to caress your body running his hands all over your exposed flesh as he nips and sucks at your neck, shoulders, and upper back. You find that after the release of an orgasm, you don’t feel as self-conscious. And watching the mirror, as you were asked, wasn’t hard when you were focused on Nick instead of yourself.

You watch as he reaches for the condom that he had set on the nightstand and pulls just far enough away from you to slip it on. When the head of his cock finds your entrance, you know it’s going to be a stretch. Still, high on your pleasure, you can't find it in yourself to worry. Instead, you are rocking with him coating him with your arousal. When he pushes in there is a generous slide from your wetness but it’s still a stretch. You force yourself not to close your eyes at the sensation because seeing his face in the mirror when his slow movement finally has him bottomed out in you is magical.

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size but soon you're wiggling against him because you need him to move. He starts off slow with a steady rhythm, both of you getting used to each other. Your eyes are glued to the mirror watching his arms wrap around you. His hands caress your skin, playing with your breast, and rolling your nipples. Watching him take pleasure in your body is erotic. He is playing with your clit, and you can feel another orgasm building quickly. His hand twists in your hair turning you to face him. He doesn’t kiss you, not really, your lips are barely brushing as you share air. Your orgasm washes over you and his lips crash onto yours stealing your cry of pleasure. Your walls squeeze him tightly and he picks up his pace.

You’re spent and fall forward, Nick lets you down to your elbows slowly. You are on all fours now as you try to catch your breath and regain your senses. He presses down on your upper back making you arch your ass up higher. You swear because the change in angle lets him hit deeper sending a rush of wetness through your core. The extra slide allows Nick to thrust deeper inside of you. His tip finds a sensitive spot that leaves your thighs shaking and your walls flutter against him. He curses in Spanish as his thrusts get sloppy and his orgasm slams through him. He continues to rock against you as he empties himself into the condom.

He falls forward, his upper half pressing you down. You can feel each of his harsh breaths as his chest heaves with his excursion. His forehead is pressed against your sweaty back. He stays like that for only a minute as his breathing evens out. He lifts his head and runs his hand down your spine. You hiss as he pulls out of you leaving you feeling empty. He gets up to take care of the condom.

You roll over onto your back your arms resting over your head spread out like a starfish. Your body is tingling from your head to the tips of your fingers and toes with leftover sensation and your mind has been scrambled. You haven’t felt this warm, sated, and absolutely exhausted in years.

You don’t hear Nick come back but you feel the mattress dip when he sits down. When you open your eyes to look you see he has pulled his boxers back on and is holding a glass of wine from the bottle you had opened earlier and a beer from the fridge. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You shake your head because at this moment he could rob you blind and you probably just lay there and let him with a satisfied smile on your face. “Thank you,” You sit up and take the glass from him.

You take a sip, and it tastes even better now. You would swear at this moment that good sex makes everything better. Nick leans back into the pillows as he rests his back against the headboard. He holds out his arm up in an offering. You only hesitate for a minute as you climb over to cuddle up with him on top of the covers. He runs his hand along your back, a smug satisfied smile on his face as he takes a long pull of his beer. He looks proud of himself. You don’t think much of it after all he had just got off. Later after he leaves and you are just falling asleep do you understand.

You echo his words half asleep into the dark empty room. “No place left for you to be shy.”

Alright, guys so what does the Jury think?

I also want to say the amount of love I have been getting on my stories is amazing! I thought that the SUV fandom had died out and that's why I started writing my own but I’m so glad to see it’s not. I am running out of stories to read though so if you have any recs, please send them to me!!!

#nick amaro #nick amaro x you #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro imagine #imagine #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

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im-not-corrupted · 5 months

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@samsalami66 very kindly gave me another prompt for a new Dreamling fic--Can I do your hair? from this list of prompts.

Features: human au, too much pining, Dream on the aromantic spectrum, childhood friends, developing friendship, and so many feelings!

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The sun is already low in the sky when he asks, evening setting in far too quickly for Dream’s liking.

The question comes as quite the surprise. Dream doesn’t quite know why, exactly—they have been steadily growing closer over the last few months, since they reunited after a good many years apart. It is a strange thing to go from close friends to nothing but tentative strangers after years apart. There is familiarity, of course—not everything changes. Some things remain the same.

Most things do not. Dream recalls the way he saw Hob after their numerous years apart. He did so with an entirely different light, though whether that perspective came with age or that distance, he doesn’t know. It was simply that he saw Hob grin at him—small and tentative, unsure despite the confidence he held himself with, a beautiful study in contrasts—for the first time in years, and it did something to him. Stirred something within him, something that remained stubbornly latent until that one moment.

It was something to do with his eyes, Dream thinks. Hob has lovely eyes. Russet brown with specks of gold. They are made for sunlight and seem to crystallise its rays in their irises, all brilliant colours that manage to take his breath away each and every time. They are gentle, hopeful things, those eyes, and made even more beautiful by the soft lines in their corners. Crows feet, barely noticeable but there. Those were not there when they were children, and serve now as proof that they both grew older, but also that Hob has spent these last years away from one another happy.

There is a jealousy to be found there, in the idea that he has been unable to contribute to this joy. He has found the act of bringing smiles onto Hob’s face almost addictive—they are blinding in their brilliance, precious gems Dream just knows he will treasure until the end of time. He wants to be the one to bring him further joy, and wishes he was there to do so during their years apart.

Yet Dream has duties to his family. He could not forsake them, not even for Hob. (He wishes to. They meet every fortnight since their reunion. Dream creeps out the palace, takes his mare from the stables and rides to their obscure meeting place, where Hob is always—always, without fail—waiting for him. The sight always makes his heart ache in his chest, and when they say goodbye…When they say goodbye, Dream wishes he could follow Hob. Wishes he could follow the steps of his childhood friend who he had become ridiculously attached to, a bond that is so terribly unwise he knows he should not continue to meet him yet finds himself unable to not do so. He wishes he could forsake every duty that has ever been placed upon his shoulders and see what life away from the palace might be like—what a life with Hob might be like.

He imagines it to be wondrous. Hob’s stories have always been so…so full of adventure, the tales he spins so full of drama and excitement and everything the palace is not. He wishes he could experience that, if only once.)

In the end, that faint amount of jealousy—the idea that he should be the one to inspire joy inside of Hob, the selfish thought that he has missed so much—it all faded away into gladness. He is happy that Hob has been happy in their time away. He is glad his friend gets to have that, and gets to have enough of it that it has made a permanent mark upon his face.

That, Dream thinks, is enough.

So they have grown closer, these last few months since their reunion. It started tentatively, with unsure steps, a little like walking on eggshells. For Dream, though much about Hob remains the same, the differences are large enough that, at first, he was terribly unsure of himself. There is Hob, with his new-found confidence, with arrogance that suits him instead of feeling obnoxious or annoying like half arrogant nobles back at the palace, with his new-found strength and tanned skin from years spent in the sun, with easy smiles that look so natural on his face. And then there is Dream, who is, for all intents and purposes, much the same. He still dresses in black, as he did when they were younger. He still finds court to be stifling, frustrating, a cage he has yet to escape and one he fears may crush him someday. He still argues with his parents, though admittedly far more politely than he used to, about duties and marriage and all the things that were predetermined for him the moment of his birth. He still wanders the halls of the palace a little like a ghost, stays quiet when he is expected to raise his voice, and is perpetually terrified that he is not enough. For his kingdom, for his family, for anybody he truly cares for.

When he thinks about them like that, it is clear that the two of them are so different. It seemed a foolish idea, that the two of them could be friends, that they could rekindle what they once had. Dream missed him dearly in their years apart, of course—Hob was one of the few things that made his life bearable, along with the books inside the Library and Jessamy. But in that first moment, the day of their reunion, he was sure that he was so much lesser than Hob. That Hob would see it and spit at his feet and simply leave.

That did not happen. For all his fears, all his uncertainty, things were just as easy that day of their reunion as they were the day Hob left. They learned what parts of them had changed, decided they still fit together, and they formed a friendship that now seemed stronger than the one they left behind when Hob had to leave.

It is a blessing, Dream thinks. He thanks the stars that Hob decided, however foolishly, that he is worth befriending. That he is worth knowing.

Still. Growing friendship or not, Dream was not expecting Hob to state at him for a couple of moments and ask, abruptly, “Can I do your hair?”

He blinks, taking a moment to register the question. He replied with a quiet, “…What?” because, truly, he is unsure he heard correctly.

Despite all his confidence, gained from years of befriending people with nothing but a smile, Hob sometimes manages to be so unconfident sometimes. This is one of those moments—his eyes widen fast enough to almost be comical, staring at Dream like he had made a grave mistake, before his face turns red. Distantly, Dream wonders at that, at the way it appears so becoming on him. It compliments the tan skin of his face and Dream wants to see more of it, though isn’t entirely sure where that impulse came from.

“Sorry,” Hob says sheepishly. “Only—your hair is so pretty. I had the sudden urge to braid it. I know that may be…weird? Just. Forget that I asked?”

”No,” he says, and, truly, he is unsure where the word came from. Only, he is not opposed in the slightest to the idea of Hob’s hands in his hair. They’re tough hands, scarred and callused from years of soldiering, yet they have only ever treated Dream with an unfamiliar tenderness he craves. The few touches they have shared are memorable solely due to this—to the carefulness with which Hob touches him. Not like he is a delicate, breakable thing, but instead like he is something worth treasuring. He did not think there was a difference between those two things until Hob Gadling pulled him in for a hug the day they reunited, one arm around Dream’s waist and the other cradling his head.

It is a moment that has changed him, he thinks. Because now that he has been offered more of those touches, more of that gentleness, he wants it. He is familiar with want. It is a great burning thing inside of his chest. He does not want with any kind of moderation, and he wants so much of it that the wanting has nowhere to go.

But it has a direction now. He thinks of Hob’s hands in his hair, of the loveliness with which Hob would no doubt do this with, and he wants. Which is why he looks at Hob, at the red blossoming across his cheeks, pretty like roses, and he offers softly, “You may. If you truly wish to.”

He watches as a smile full of relief and delight breaks over Hob’s face like the sun at dawn. It feels a little like a miracle to be able to see this, and even more like a blessing to know this is solely his. That, in the end, Hob smiles with such beauty in his direction, and now he is able to keep this close inside his memory and revisit it again and again. “Really?” he asks, and he tugs at his ear in a way that can only be nervous, and Dream thinks this is what it means to be in love. “I only want to if you’d be comfortable with it.”

He has read about it, in books. There are plenty in the library, and it seems to be one of the more common themes. Love. Romance. These are things he has never understood.

He does love, of course. He loves his dear older sister, Telute, who they all call Death. He loves his youngest sister Del. He loves Lucienne even if he is not strictly supposed to, for she treats him less like a prince and more like a person, and that is important. He loves Jessamy, who has taken care of him even when his parents have not.

But romantic love is another thing entirely. He feels a little as though he is incapable of it, and cannot quite understand why. It seems to come so easily to everybody else, after all. It seems to be such a universal experience—has to be that, if there are so many works about those feelings inside the library.

Here, in this moment, he thinks he understands. He wants, only he is not sure what exactly it is he is wanting. He aches with it, with the desire to see Hob’s smile again and again. It is different from friendship, he thinks. It is a little like a wildfire catching, burning bright and beautiful and yet so dangerous.

This thing is large enough to ruin him, he can tell. If he reaches forward and lets his fingertips brush those flames, he will burn.

He offers Hob a smile that feels a little like tempting Hell and figures he will be okay with burning if it means he gets to have more of this. More of these moments, lovely and warm and gentle. More of Hob’s smiles and more of his touches. “I wouldn’t agree if I didn’t want you to,” he points out, and Hob laughs.

It is a loud, joyful thing. Dream wants. He wants to taste that sound for himself. Wants to swallow it and let it take root inside himself so that he has a piece of Hob with him. Wants to press his lips to Hob’s and see if he will be as kind to him then as he is every other time.

”Alright then, my friend,” Hob says, and he is beautiful when he is delighted. It becomes him. He had a face built for joy and a voice made for expressing it. Dream wants as many of these moments as possible. “Sit in front of me?”

Hob crosses his legs where he sits in the meadow, amongst wildflowers that bathe the area in a sweet scent that reminds Dream of all things summer. Of sunlight on his skin, its warmth seeping in through his blood and settling inside his bones. It is heady, and it reminds him also of the early days of his and Hob’s friendship—the times when Hob would convince him to take his horse down to the beach so that they might be able to jump in the sea, the times when Hob would drag him to the market in town and teach him the art of pickpocketing. Each time felt a little like courting danger, for he knew his parents would disapprove of both of those endeavours, but they all felt golden, the days so full with possibility that any bad ending would surely be worth it.

(There were no bad endings, not even when they jumped into the sea. Jessamy found him before his parents ever could and tutted softly at the sight of his sodden clothes, no doubt ruined by sea water, and bid him clean up before anybody else found out. There were no bad endings because Jessamy protected him from them, and Dream is eternally grateful to her.)

And, after a moment’s hesitation, Dream sits between his friend’s crossed legs with an insistent feeling of anticipation. He faces forward, turned towards the gradually setting sun. It is beautiful up here, on top of this hill in the middle of a meadow.

He brings his legs up to his chest, wraps an arm around them. With his other, he picks at the grass beneath them, the green so beautiful and vibrant and lovely. It is a nervous thing, this action, and he feels distantly foolish for it. He is not supposed to appear nervous—he is a prince, after all.

Yet Hob makes him feel like this. Like anything is possible. Makes him nervous, despite all the effort Dream has put into learning how to mask these things.

He does not mind. Hob is…Hob is safe. He knows this.

He does not gasp when he feels Hob’s fingers in his hair, but it is a close thing. The touch is so light, so soft that Dream could melt into it. He does not think it would be entirely appropriate to lose himself like so if he does, but he is tempted. For now, he keeps his eyes on the sun and tells his heartbeat to calm down. It is only Hob.

Except it has never been only Hob, has it? This is Hob he is talking about, after all. He is beautiful and lovely and Dream loves him so much. Perhaps a little more than platonically.

”Is that alright?” Hob asks him. He is…close. Which makes sense, considering their proximity, but being confronted with this so suddenly is almost startling.

It takes him more time than he would like to admit to find his voice. When he does, his voice is small and breathy, and he does not have it in him to feel embarrassed. “Yes.”

Hob hums softly under his breath, and then he starts to braid.

He starts from the top of Dream’s head, so it is certainly no ordinary three-strand braid. He sections the hair carefully, mindful not to tug, and braids with an efficiency that feels practised. Dream did not think this would come out of keeping his hair relatively long out of little more than pure spite and a vague like for the style, but does not mind it at all.

“I used to have a sister, you know,” Hob tells him with an air of wistfulness, like he looks into the past and wishes he could go back as he says it. “She used to demand I braid her hair constantly, so I was forced to learn. Admittedly, I rather enjoyed it. Your hair is perfect for it, too.”

He doesn’t preen at the compliment. He doesn’t. “Used to?” he asks softly, then winces slightly. The use of past tense says enough, does it not? There is no need to drag up old ghosts, and yet, he has done so. Accidentally, and without thinking, but he has. “I apologise. You do not need—“

”Hey.” It is so soft that it stops him in his tracks. “Don’t be. You didn’t know. She died a couple years ago. I miss her very much. You would’ve liked her, I think. I am glad you let me do this. Feels like I’m…remembering her by doing so, if that makes sense.”

Dream thinks it does, and says as much. Hob hugs once more, and the two of them fall silent for a while. There is little more between them than slight rustling of movement from behind him as Hob readjusts himself to continue the braid. More than once, he pauses for a reason Dream is unable to determine.

It is comfortable. Quiet. Dream thinks he would like to do this time and time again, if Hob is amenable.

Eventually, Hob tells him, “It is done,” and Dream immediately regrets having not brought a handheld mirror with him. It feels a crime that he is unable to see Hob’s work with his own eyes.

There is nothing for it. But he reaches behind himself and it feels so neat, so tidy, he knows Hob has done well. Then he runs his fingers over feather-soft petals and asks, “Flowers, too?”

”Yeah. There’s plenty about. They suit you.”

Dream turns to face him once more, and Hob stares at him with an expression he cannot quite read. He wishes he could. He wishes he knew what this is, this growing thing between them. He wishes himself capable of putting it into words.

It is enough, he supposes, to leave this thing between them to its own devices. Perhaps it will make sense, make itself known and understood, at some other point in time. For now, Dream lets himself imagine pressing his lips to Hob’s cheek in the gentlest of kisses, let’s himself wonder if Hob might hold him close with the same gentleness he does everything else, and he decides it does not have to be anything more than what they were already, not necessarily.

”Thank you,” he murmurs softly, and Hob smiles. It is a small, delighted thing. Dream adores the sight of it.

”Anytime, my friend. Anytime.” He settles back a little, resting his back against the grand oak tree they mark their meeting spot by, and says, “Come on. Tell me a story. You’re good at those.”

”I am,” Dream agrees. And Hob asked this of him, so he does. He tells him a story, and eventually, the two of them part ways.

He does not take his hair out until long into the night, where he takes the flowers out carefully and keeps them on his nightstand. They will wither soon, he knows, but for now he keeps them as—as a token of Hob’s friendship, he supposes.

When he sleeps, he dreams of his friend, beautiful and joyful and oh so lovely.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling fic #morpheus dream of the endless #the sandman fic #eris writes things

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