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#based off of limited information
duckmutual · 2 years
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AND the MVs being subjective portrayals of the prisoner's perception intensifies the moral question of Milgram (the prison and the project, in- and out-of-universe). Given total freedom from any particular ruleset (ex. laws), will you forgive someone for the "sins" they believe they have committed? Based only on what they believe of themselves, would you forgive them?
And is that enough for you? What systems are you using to judge whether they're worthy of forgiveness? Yuno asks something like "why should your judgement change if the crime is the same?" in the most recent VD (which i havent listened to i saw somebody post a quote or smth), i think referring to her suspicion that we'll only forgive her for getting an abortion if we believe her to be victimized & forced into compensated dating to survive. Her MV (as far as i understand it so far) is about saying "I chose this life for myself, take that spit-in-the-face to your moral code".
Will we try to judge them based on the crime itself? On their role in it? On the role they think they played? And which of those are fair metrics to judge someone by? Which of those, if any, give us enough information to be fair?
It's a criticism of the legal system, the medical system, and societal rules as a whole. Is there any information that will give you enough to fairly judge whether another person is unforgivable?
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astriiformes · 9 months
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One thing about figuring out I have OCD at the same time as having a lot of Pentiment emotions is that now I am just like. Andreas Maler is a brother in scrupulosity, to me. Which maybe explains some things about him going off the deep end completely when confronted with the moral OCD nightmare scenario that is the plot of Pentiment.
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tbh mushroom anon you sound Really toxic ngl. the fact your being so rude towards someone for having an f/o as a platonic makes me think you shouldnt run a public discord. "he wouldnt like them bcs theyre annoying" imagine if someone said that abt you. unbelievably cruel. close your server and make it just friends if your that insecure
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moodr1ng · 5 months
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were all for prison abolition and transformative justice until i say "the man who abused me as a young teen is not in a place where he has access to children or women so i dont want to pursue any judicial action against him, and also i understand that while the abuse he put me through was extreme and awful, he was young, traumatized, endured abused himself, and abusing multiple substances and i dont believe he is the same person he was at the time", at which point everyone looks at me with pity and concern and tells me i dont have to make excuses for him and im allowed to hate him and etc etc. like yeah i do hate him. im capable of thinking past hatred, being reasonable about the situation, and maintaining my political ideals even when it comes to things personal to me, so that when i say "everyone deserves a chance at rehabilitation" i dont conveniently make an exception for the guy who hurt me personally.. anyway.
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mitchmarner · 1 year
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trying to keep up with the phf/pwhpa news dropping on a random thursday evening with limited information and mass speculation while trying to make the math work to find a single scenario where countless players and staff aren’t completely fucked over by this
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ramrage · 2 years
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141 football HCs
inspired by the scrumptious works (x, x) by @horsebra, here are some headcanons that no one asked for but i couldnt help but make
Soap:
Malingers a lot. and dramatically. everyone, himself included, recognizes this but just kinda rolls with it because sometimes it pays off, and to be fair, man does get fouled a ton
if someone is on the ground, 9/10 times it is him
tenacious as hell. will run to balls he won't reach, faces off in aerial duels against könig-height dudes.
somehow always scoring because he'll go for shots others would shy away from and is magically in the right place at the right time (jk he reads the field well)
social captain of the team. is quick with a compliment or consolation no matter what
constantly talking shit and is a nightmare to play against
Alejandro:
shows off a ton which would be a problem if he ever lost possession, but he infrequently does
has fouled out the most and leads the team in cards
just as aggressive a player as Soap, if not more
speaks spanish with rodolfo to covertly talk shit or point out weaknesses in the opposition's defense
his locker room pump up playlist is nasty and excellent and everyone loves it, even ghost (doesn't admit it)
coolest boots on the pitch
obnoxious yet impressive celebration dance, will taunt the fans
Rodolfo:
official idiot wrangler for soap and ale
his passes are clean as hell without fail. no one would score without him.
not a particularly flashy or dramatic player, he's more on the side of efficient, but he'll sometimes pull out the most ridiculous, odee goals you have ever seen in the beautiful game
is great at intercepting the defense's attempts to clear the ball and then proceeds to cross it perfectly and it pisses the other team off severely
big on post-game stretching and gives people shit when they don't. he has saved the team so many injuries.
goes apeshit when ale gets fouled and is actually hurt. if he isn't foaming at the mouth, alejandro is fine. no one can figure out how he tells the difference
Ghost:
effectively a center mid but says he's a defensive mid for reasons unknown
great at assessing the pitch and moving his team around to make saucy plays
scores an awful lot for a "defensive mid"
king of set pieces
surprisingly supportive and kind when his team fucks up
not afraid to play dirty but will immediately own up when the official chews him out for decking a guy
once lifted soap up in a hug after he scored a goal and everyone teased him about it so he never did it ever again
acts pissed but is amused when Soap malingers to win foul against the other team
Price:
is probably way too old to be playing but does anyway
switches between center and l/r-back depending on what the ol knee is telling him
not as fast as he used to be but his judgment and technical skills are impeccable
sometimes pulls out fancy footwork to wow the kids
comfort character on the pitch. when he recovers the ball after shit goes tits up, you know the team is safe
best pump up speeches you have ever heard
Gaz:
quick as hell and loves playing teams that rely on fast breaks because it's a fun challenge and he cuts them off damn well
had one (1) own goal when he was really young and will never forget it
booted the ball to the other side of the pitch and it bounced over the other team's keeper and rolled on in for a goal one (1) time and will never forget it. or stop talking about it. knows better than to try it again.
talks and sings to himself when the other team's offense sucks and the ball generally stays on the far side of the pitch
feels bad when he decks players from the other team and will help them up but also finds it kinda funny
gets beyond hyped for the rare hydration break on hot days
kate:
team coach/manager, Head Idiot Wrangler
has evil conditioning days but no one gets too mad because they trust her judgment
is somehow cool with the owners even tho they're dicks and uses that relationship to advocate for the players
generally keeps her cool during matches but got a red card once for laying into a official for a terrible call
earned many wrinkles and grey hairs from managing the boys
constantly getting shit from people in the league because she's a woman but she shuts that shit down with calm, scary efficiency
not afraid to play politics with the owners and the league but is always honest with the players
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ribbonmiku · 6 months
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oopy i’m venting and musing and it got very long
i do think that i was so, SO much happier and more confident and fun to be around when i wasn’t masking nearly as much. when i wasn’t constantly auditing the emotional state of everyone around me so i can react to any upset on a dime. i know i’d probably be a lot happier again if i stopped masking so much. i know i’d be so much less scared if i wasn’t going into every interaction like i’m navigating a minefield. but. unfortunately. i have been conditioned to believe on a deep emotional level that if someone in my vicinity is upset and i don’t immediately notice and do something to fix it, or WORSE if i caused it, then they will immediately fucking die and it will be my fault and their blood will my on my hands. there have been times where i’ve been unable to do this constant monitoring, like if i’ve been drinking with friends and i got a bit tipsier than i meant to, and it makes me feel SO so out of control and anxious and upset. so like. it’s been really, really hard trying to learn to stop. i’m trying. lord i’m trying.
the other more realistic reason i’m scared to stop masking like this so much is because almost everyone i know only knows this masked version of me and i’m scared that if i stop they’ll all be like “oh my god, why is plum being such a bitch all of a sudden??” that happened with my old friends and roommate and it’s one of the reasons they up and cut me off. and then i was homeless, so like. this one has been a hard sell for my therapist to convince me that it’s unfounded.
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heritageposts · 2 months
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Harris has been a staunch supporter of Israel for years. In 2017 she addressed the American Israel Public Affairs Committee’s (AIPAC) annual conference and reminded attendees that the first resolution she co-sponsored as a senator was aimed at combating “anti-Israel bias” at the United Nations. “Let me be clear about what I believe. I stand with Israel because of our shared values, which are so fundamental to the founding of both our nations,” she told the crowd. In 2018 she gave an off-the-record speech to the organization, but eventually released her comments. In that speech she claimed that she raised money for the Jewish National Fund as a Girl Scout. “Having grown up in the Bay area, I fondly remember those Jewish National Fund boxes that we would use to collect donations to plant trees for Israel,” she told the audience. “Years later, when I visited Israel for the first time, I saw the fruits of that effort and the Israeli ingenuity that has truly made a desert bloom.”
For those unfamiliar with the Jewish National Fund (JNF), they're a Zionist organization that has been instrumental in the ethnic cleansing of Palestine.
See Stop the JNF for more information on their history, the way they operate, and their decades-long campaign of greenwashing (i.e. destroying native plants, crops, and agriculture under the banner of 'making the desert bloom').
Continuing, the Mondoweiss article goes:
“The vast majority of people understand the importance of the State of Israel,” she added later. “Both in terms of its history and its present in terms of being a source of inspiration on so many issues, which I hope we will talk about, and also what it means in terms of the values of the United States and those values that are shared values with Israel, and the importance of fighting to make sure that we protect and respect a friend, one of the best friends we could possibly have.” While running for President in 2019, Harris was praised by the lobbying group Democratic Majority for Israel (DMFI) for running to the right of Obama on the Iran deal. On the campaign trail Harris told Kat Wellman, a voter affiliated with DMFI, that she would reenter the agreement but “strengthen it” by “extending the sunset provisions, including ballistic missile testing, and also increasing oversight.” “I was very impressed with her. I thought she gave an excellent speech, she gave a very detailed, responsive answer to my question,” Wellman told a local paper after the exchange. “I’m pro-Israel, so I was I was very concerned and all about making sure we limit nuclear missiles in any country that could possibly destroy us all. I thought her answer was very good.” Harris has condemned the BDS movement and claimed that is “based on the mistaken assumption that Israel is solely to blame for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.” However, she voted against an anti-BDS bill in 2019 citing First Amendment concerns.
For the full article, which includes Kamala's response to Israel post Al-Aqsa Flood, see Mondoweiss (July 22, 2024)
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bunnys-kisses · 5 months
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the jailbird
prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley
a full fic based on this post
cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!
it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.
you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.
that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.
but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.
the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.
you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.
you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.
simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.
he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.
you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.
the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.
he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.
he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."
he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.
simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.
"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."
simon remembered everything.
the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.
"i want to be what you get ready to."
"i want to be with you when you wake up."
"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."
you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.
and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.
you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!
it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.
and then you saw him.
those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.
you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."
he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."
you beamed up at him, "of course, si."
"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."
you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.
but tonight was just going to be the two of you.
you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.
you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.
"si."
"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.
your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.
he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.
you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.
you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.
it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.
you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.
after everything, you had your man.
he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.
you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."
"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.
you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.
"are you alright, love?"
"golden."
the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.
you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.
"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."
you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.
he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."
you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.
the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.
you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.
he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.
you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.
he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.
you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."
he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."
part two
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mypoisonedvine · 2 months
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𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say
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Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.
"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.
"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"
"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."
"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.
You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.
It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.
He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?
That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”
“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”
“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”
Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…
At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.
At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."
By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.
"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.
"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.
"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.
For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.
He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.
"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.
"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.
But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...
And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 
Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.
“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”
“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.
“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”
“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.
“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”
He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  
“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.
"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.
Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.
He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.
“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”
“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.
He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?
The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  
What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  
He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.
He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.
Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…
He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.
Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.
His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.
This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.
He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.
He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.
You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.
“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.
“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”
“Ed,” you warned firmly.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”
“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.
“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”
“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.
“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”
“Kind of, as in…”
“Completely,” he blurted out.
You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.
But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.
You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.
“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.
“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.
He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.
“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.
“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”
You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 
As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”
You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 
Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?
You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—
“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”
“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.
Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”
“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?
“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”
“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”
“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”
You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”
“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.
“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 
“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?
“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.
“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”
But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.
“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”
He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.
“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.
“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.
“Fuck, that’s—”
He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.
“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”
You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”
Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.
“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.
You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”
As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.
He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”
You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.
“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.
“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”
“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.
“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  
“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”
You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.
“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”
He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”
The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.
“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.
“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.
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sexybritishllama · 1 year
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in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy
for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:
the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)
the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop
there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial
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this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs
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flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected
but, eventually, it opens!
well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?
the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?
as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:
only 10 items could be donated per day
points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each
this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless
r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win
people were Not Happy about this
not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least
however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.
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i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already
because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day
BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.
this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them
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so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison
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it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION
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So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring
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nianeyemystic · 3 months
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Sextrology Observation 💦🤤😈
Where Saturn is placed in your chart, can show you what prevents you from being able to cum
- please keep in mind these are my OWN interpretations. they may or may not resonate with you, and that’s okay. I’m open to opinions & conversations however let’s keep it cute (rudeness is not acceptable in this safe space ) & learn from one another. Please do not copy of plagiarize , any reblogs & shares are greatly appreciated. This information may help somebody 🥰
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Saturn in 1H:
You can be in your head alot during sex, you have to learn to let go so your body can feel & relax. it’s sometimes hard for you to experience emoting freely in front of others. Also how you feel about yourself & the person
Saturn in 2H:
Your self esteem. Your confidence an what you value can be a huge factor here. You should do affirmations, listen to sensual music before or even have your partner engage in praise kinks & compliment you during.
Saturn in 3H
Inability to communicate what you need & desire during sex. Communication is key here for you, you can limit yourself to cumming just based on lack thereof. Your partner may not know how to please you unless you say it.
Saturn in 4H:
Your emotional needs, home life & even sense of security with your partner. A lack of stimulation surrounding the home environment you’re in during. Maybe try changing up the atmosphere.
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Saturn in 5H:
You place a lot of pressure on yourself during, there needs to be a balance of this is a devoted action & something fun & creative. Try new positions, have exploration in the bedroom & music / good vibes are needed.
Saturn in 6H:
You’re too focused on work maybe. Or your career is heavily on your mind during sex. Also if you’re not in good health mentally or physically this can hinder you as well in the bedroom. Try to meditate, do breathing exercises & completely change out of “work mode” before engaging
Saturn in 7H:
The need to feel secure in your relationship. Their needs to be reciprocal loyalty & commitment before you can release. Your relationships can deeply effect your sensuality so be careful who you’re getting into bed with
Saturn in 8H:
Your sexuality may have been something you’re ashamed of before. Maybe you’ve held onto view around sex as taboo, or have not gotten fully comfortable with exploring your sexuality. The right healing work & sexual expression will help you get there. Sacral chakra & Root Chakra yoga could help here
Saturn in 9H:
You may be too intense or focused on your intellectual pursuits. Sex has be to stimulating for your mind as well. So maybe conversations that lead to sec should involve topics like expansion, travel & self discovery. Or you could need to engage in more of those to feel sexually aroused
Saturn in 10H:
Reputation of the person your having sex with & maybe even their social status could effect you here. Maybe try finding partners who fit the ideal you’re attracted to in social world or simply forget about that & let go.
Saturn in 11H
The money & income of either yourself or your partner could effect your sexual stimulation. Even the social circles you hang in. If you’re attracted to a person but his/her friend group doesn’t align you maybe turned off. Also patience, you might be rushing the act to get there. Take your time
Saturn in 12H:
Your intuition will tell you everything. So if you’re not aligned spiritually, or have some sort of connection with a partner you could hav trouble cumming. Sex should be a sacred & devoted practice. Also your needs for solitude might be a huge indicator of not being able to cum
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@nianeyemystic
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matsunoluvr · 2 months
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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ the love and deepspace boys favourite body parts
warnings: characters may be ooc, some suggestive writing, limited knowledge on xavi and zayne (rafayel stan…)
characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus
link to master list here!!
information: these are based on the idea that the mc and LIs are either dating or very clearly romantically (and possibly more lol) attracted to one another!!
author’s notes: xavier’s affinity for physical affection infected me and now i can’t stop thinking abt it curse abyssal chaos and their stupid stories wdym we were cuddling w xavier ARGHH
more below the cut!! :3
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as a painter, rafayel is, naturally, drawn to the whole figure - he’d say things such as “the body can show what words don’t speak” and such.
in the past he’s dabbled in figure painting, after all he is an artist at heart - he had to try everything - but he found that overall he much rather paint sceneries and landscapes. he just saw no appeal in the human body, it was all rather dull in comparison to the beauty nature held.
that was, of course, before he met you. ,and, well, every since then he found it difficult to paint anyone, anything, that didn’t include any aspect of you. from the exact hues of your eyes to the supple red of your lips after you two kiss, rafayel would incorporate your essence into any painting of his.
so it’s obvious that he loves your body, he loves every inch, but what was his favourite?
well… rafayel is obsessed with your hands… like so obsessed it’s insane. always wanting to hold them, kiss them, caress them, everything.
feeling your skin on his, no matter if your hands are soft or rough, large or small, fingers are long or thinner, he just loves the intimacy of intertwining his fingers with yours.
sometimes you can feel his gaze on you when you fiddle with them, if you run them through your hair or finger as a loose thread in your clothing - his eyes are fondly observing your every move.
if you ask what his obsession with hands were, he’d deny any specific attraction to them
“Hands? They’re just like any other body part.”
but then you ask specifically, what’s the obsession with your hands, and then his ears are turning red.
“Y-your hands? Nothing, no- I do not have an obsession with your hands…”
but then you grasp his chin, tilt his face up and trail a finger along his jaw and he’s shivering, flinching deliciously to your touch
tease him for it and he’ll get flustered - frowning but not denying anything at this point, because your finger is now trailing down his neck and gently brushing against his collar bones.
of course, his affinity for your hands can be exploited.
for example, when rafayel ignores you for sustained periods of time working on a painting.
“Wait a second, I’m painting.” and you get sick of waiting, so you decide to toy with him a little
he’s so engrossed in painting he doesn’t even notice you creeping up behind him, he doesn’t notice you until your hands are sneaking around his small waist, moving forwards until you’re toying with the buttons on the front of his shirt.
his small yelp of surprise is adorable, and the red that creeps up his neck to his ears is beautiful - you can tell his attention is now narrowed in on the way your fingers creep through the gaps in his shirt and your nails gently scratch at his abdomen
you can hear his breathing stutter and his heartbeat quicken, and if you turn him around to face you - well you don’t need to be a mind reader to tell what he was thinking when you looked at the tent growing downstairs…
“Please… I won’t ignore you I promise… so please keep touching me.”
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we all know xavier can’t keep his hands off you, from purposefully pulling you a little too close to him when a wanderer seems too angry to cuddling into your chest when taking a nap.
he’s sly, sly like a little minx, and he knows exactly how to tease you.
with this in mind, his favourite part of your body is your neck - just like how his neck is his weak-spot
he is a very possessive man, and god does he love acting on it to prove to the world that you’re his (though with the glares he gives other men/women, I don’t really think he needs to make any other point that man is terrifying when he is jealous)
he shows his love by literally devouring your neck, sucking hickeys and giving little love bites all over your neck - if you tell him to stop he’ll definitely be giving you a petulant pout.
xavier just loves the fact that he’s the only one allowed to touch you there, that he’s the only one that’s allowed to nibble at your sensitive neck - the most vulnerable part of your body. the control he has over that area of your skin drives him NUTS
like seriously, you two will be making out (see this post for the lnd boys giving first kisses teehee) and all of a sudden he’s lunging at your neck and kissing it like there’s no tomorrow - all whilst sporting red ears and furrowed eyebrows.
xavier looks so concentrated, really dedicating all of his energy into making sure everyone knows you are his. also trying to focus the blood anywhere but south LMAO
by the way, you can exploit this by purposefully wearing low-cut v-necks, exposing your neck all for xavier.
even the opposite can work… wearing turtle necks or scarves, restricting his access when making out can get him riled up
one time he almost ripped your turtle neck with how far he was tugging it down so he could suck at your collar bones…
one time you and xavier went on a mission where you dressed undercover as a rich couple and went to a masquerade ball
when you and xavier split up, a man that you recognised as your ‘neighbour’ - who lived in the apartment next to the one you and xavier rented - approached you and started up a conversation - to be honest it wasn’t exactly flirtatious nor suggestive but you suddenly found yourself being yanked back into a solid chest
when you looked up you could see the seething possessiveness that simmered in xavier’s irises, and his grip on your waist was tight.
“Are you okay, dear? Is this man bothering you?”
his voice is much, much colder than you’ve ever heard it before, and there’s an edge to it that was so un-xavier like.
needless to say, the man scurried off as fast as possible
that night… well xavier made sure to pretty up your neck in lovely blotches of purpled-pinks…
his tongue is surprisingly skilled, swirling and caressing your sensitive skin in sensual patterns…
the next morning when you accidentally bumped into the man from the night before, you could definitely feel a sense of smug satisfaction come from xavier as the man’s eyes widened upon seeing your marked up neck
“What? I didn’t mean to… I just got carried away.”
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zayne is a gentle-man, and his pure and innocent answer would be your eyes, and it’s not wrong. he loves gazing into your eyes - even though he doesn’t like it when you reciprocate the action.
whenever you’re lost in thought, or gazing into the distance, he finds himself searching your irises, or losing himself in your pupils.
but, if we really unveil dr zayne’s thoughts… he really loves your lips
like of course there’s the romantic and thoughtful side to it, he loves the little quirks and silent give-aways your lips can tell, such as the way they twitch a little when you lie or the way they look when you smile
he loves how you sometimes nibble on the bottom lip when deep in thought, and finds it especially cute when you sulk when he acts clueless to your flirtation
he especially loves, however, the way they glisten after you lick your lips with your soft tongue… or after he’s done having his way with you…
zayne loves when they turn swollen after a long make out session, or the way they pout when he teases you - leaning in for a kiss only to pull away and tuck some hair behind your ear
he loves the way your lips change colours, shades and hues, on warmer days they look velvety and on cooler days they’re more dry, and when he’s nipping at your bottom lip and kissing you deeply they turn a richer, more sensational shade of red…
sometimes he enjoys just watching you eat, seeing your mouth relax into a satisfied smile as you greedily swallow up your favourite dish
you can, obviously, use this to your advantage.
when he’s talking all mr professional-cold-hearted zayne mode, just draw attention to your mouth, whether it be by wetting your lips or by bitting your bottom lip, it’ll almost definitely cause him to hesitate
“…concerning your heart medication…” and then he drifts off ever so slightly before continuing his tangent on your health. it’s not a huge pause but coming from dr zayne? ANY sign of hesitation is a huge thing!
and sometimes, well he enjoys a little bit more…
the first time you really acknowledge his thing for your lips was when you two were out on a little date.
summer was at its peak and it was fucking boiling, even with your walking AC unit - dr zayne - it was still way too hot to handle
in response, you and zayne decide to take a trip to the local ice-cream parlour - he orders some form of ice drink - not too sweet - with whipped cream, whilst you order your favourite.
at one point - one thing led to another - and zayne ends up with some cream on his finger… and fuck if you were going to let this opportunity pass…
you grabbed his hand just before he could protest and took the tip of his finger in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and gently sucking off the cream.
needless to say his rationality was lost, the only thought in his brain dissolved into the carnal need to claim you.
you can literally see the moment in his eyes, from confused to extremely, whole-heartedly, soulfully, biblically aroused - it’s actually a spectacle to observe
needless to say he took you to your apartment within the next 30 minutes and let’s just say… you didn’t get a good night’s sleep LOL
“I didn’t know you liked playing games this much. Let’s see how long you can play my game then.”
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guys… i’m sorry… i can’t help it even if it falls into the stereotypical fuck-boy sylus core head cannons…
he’s an ass man.
sylus just loves a good ol’ ass, and unfortunately due to his unashamed nature he absolutely does not hide his admiration for your… assets.
gifts of form fitting leggings, dresses/suits, god sometimes even hunters uniform that flatter your lower half - he’s absolutely transfixed on your ass it’s actually concerning
“Your old trousers didn’t fit, they were too large. Wear these.”
if you did wear them sylus is going to explode. explode as in watch you with a starved look in his eyes, just begging for you.
when you’re out and around his residence - e.g. by the kitchen sink, don’t be surprised if you randomly feel a large, firm hand situate itself right on one of your cheeks, and i’m not talking about the ones on your face LMAOOO
and god if you bend over in front of him he’s going to be walking up behind you and observing very… very closely - at what you’re doing of course..
if you look up you’ll where his eyes are looking and it’s certainly not at what you’re doing (he’s appreciating your ass)
why he likes your ass, do i even need to explain?
does a man really need a reason to like ass??
he also likes love handles and tummies, i can totally see sylus absolutely adoring every part of your body tbh i wholeheartedly believe in love-sick loser boyfriend sylus who accidentally falls head over heels in love with you
love handles - he likes the look of them, he thinks they compliment your body, whether your body presents more masculine, feminine or neither!!
he also loves uh, grabbing onto them when he needs something to hold whilst… performing activities with you lets just say that
if you’re on the thinner side don’t worry, he doesn’t discriminate when it comes to ass, all shapes and sizes are sylus approved!!!
i can imagine how sylus would suffer if you acted oblivious, wearing tight trousers or wearing dresses/suits that clearly were tailored by his personal designer to compliment your figure
at balls that you were forced to attend with sylus in the n109 zone, he always stood suspiciously close to your back - either hiding/protecting your ass from creepy men or keeping it all for himself…
if not your ass, and if we are talking about more… appropriate parts of the body, he’d probably go for your hands.
he just loves how small they are against his, and especially loves biting them gently
speaking of which sylus 100% has a thing for biting that i don’t think people talk about enough - a lot? possibly, i haven’t seen much, but definitely not enough.
after your evol linkage ordeal and having to have his hands close to yours all the time, it really made him realise how much smaller your hands were
also, the idea of intwining fingers, holding hands… maybe even your hands wrapping around something else… yeah he can sometimes get carried away thinking about your hands…
in the café when you get all handsy on him, he definitely has one too many nsfw thoughts about you as he notices how warm and small the palm of your hand was in relation to his own body.
“Dont stop, keep touching me, kitten.”
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AN: tl;dr the LND men are absolutely smitten for you and love your body no matter what. for the first 3 it was pretty simple for me, but i struggled with sylus. he seems to be a touchy man who doesn’t shy from physical contact so I got a little carried away… oops
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coco-loco-nut · 10 days
Text
007
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: meeting your soulmate in the paddock isn’t unusual for F1 drivers, but oscar’s certainly leans on the unusual side
a/n: sorry if it’s a bit of the mess! i’ve been trying to write my way out of writers block
masterlist part two part three requests open
_____________
You are crazy, you have to be. At least, that’s what Oscar thought when he watched the mark on his arm change for the third time that day. You put yourself in more danger than he does, and that says a lot. It wasn’t always that way, not until five years ago when it became more and more frequent. The shared talent he gets from you is no help. Analytical and multilingual, you could be anyone. Based on how often you are in danger for long stretches, he is a little sure that you are a mobster. Being able to speak Russian and Italian fluently doesn’t help with the whole mobster thing.
You didn’t know what to think of your soulmate. At first you assumed he was a criminal, the meter on your arm only shifting to danger for a relatively short period of time for a few weeks. However, it has become regular, throwing you off. Maybe a weekend adrenaline junkie? No, probably organized crime. Besides, you are skilled at driving fast, and what adrenaline junkie has a talent for fast driving.
“We have intel that there will be a deal made at the Belgian Grand Prix. Both parties are guests of Sauber as to not draw suspicion. Everything you will need is in this file, a car will pick you up tonight, good luck,” you anxiously sit through your briefing.
You have been tracking a crime ring for the past year and a half, putting yourself in all kinds of compromising positions just to get information. Formula One though, that’s new to you. You have seen some things from former partners who followed it, but you weren’t interested.
It isn’t uncommon for crime groups to use large events for “networking.” It is under the guise of their shell companies. You studied your character ruthlessly, knowing your cover inside and out.
The race approached much quicker than you’d like. The situation isn’t helped by a weird feeling in your stomach. Not nerves, but something else. You shake it off, the mission is what is important. The paddock awaits, and you have a limited striking time.
Oscar was on edge. Something felt off, even though he went through his race routine like always. He did have a questionable pastry, but there wasn’t any mold, so it was okay. He slides his sleeve up, looking at the meter on his arm. Lando doesn’t miss how his teammate’s face paled.
“You okay?” Lando asks, trying to catch a glimpse of the meter on Oscar’s arm.
“Yeah, just realized I forgot to call my sister,” Oscar lies. He’s a little scared for the day he meets you. What kind of mobster commits crime on a Sunday? Maybe you got taken by an enemy, got caught sneaking around. Logan always told him that he was crazy for assuming his soulmate is a criminal, but all signs point to it. Some fresh air is what he needs.
“Why don’t we take a walk?” your target says as you flash a charming smile, anything to get information. It helps that the conversation is in Russian, adding to confidentiality of everything.
You feel a deep pull, like a yearning, as you agree to the walk. You brush it off, the mission is top priority.
“Can you provide some more benefits of the… investment,” you are a little unsure of what to call it. You are keenly aware of the weapons strapped to the side of your target. You weren’t expecting to be meeting with an enforcer, making the job trickier.
“Perhaps. I will if you can answer this question,” you feel your anxiety spike as you keep a calm and cool demeanor. The pull increases and it takes every ounce of will to keep yourself focused. You got most of the information you need, but you need to fish for more. You don’t really notice the target turning you into a quieter part of the paddock.
Oscar lets his feet lead the way, a little out of it. He doesn’t really notice you ahead, tucked in a relatively secluded alley of the paddock. He’s always been able to sneak around, a blessing in times like this.
“Who invited you to the meeting,” he asks, and you internally breathe a sigh of relief. Your team scanned through the information to make sure there was nothing included to trip you up, and this is something that was deemed clear.
“Peter,” you say a little too confidently, and that’s when you notice him reach for the knife on his side. You also notice the civilian looking at his soulmate meter rather than where he is walking, and at that moment it spikes further into the danger. The brief distraction is enough to put you at a disadvantage. You shove the stranger behind you, getting him out of the way as you. Sparks fly as you touch him, but you don’t pay any mind to it. Eyes trained on the target, you do everything you can to avoid being stabbed as you pull out your own knife.
Oscar feels a twinge on his arm and slides up the sleeve, looking at his mark. He feels himself get yanked, and he turns his attention to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He takes a few steps back into safety and watches. Every alarm bell in his mind tells him to run away, but he can’t seem to walk away.
You kick the knife away, quickly working to disarm the target and press him against a wall, your own knife to his throat. You subtly activate your tracker, getting discreet backup.
“Tell me who runs the operation. Now.” you snarl in Russian, slightly putting pressure on his neck with the knife. The target spits beside you, you press further. “I recommend you don’t mess with me if you want to be alive.”
The information you want comes flowing out as you take a little pleasure at the fear in his eyes.
“There, happy? Let me go,” the target says and you smile wickedly. Dropping your act now would only hurt you, so you let him think you are part of a rival crime ring.
“Not quite,” you flip him around so he is facing the wall. You sheathe the knife, using your weight to brace him to the wall. “It’s a shame I couldn’t spill some blood, oh well,” you play your role, speaking in a bored yet maniacal tone. Your backup arrives and takes over for you, arresting the target.
As the adrenaline fades, you remember the guy lurking behind you. You feel the heat of anger flare up. Couldn’t he see you were dealing with something dangerous? Why wouldn’t he turn around and walk away.
Oscar can’t help but feel happy that he finally has your attention, and if the pull he feels and the danger levels that his arm displays is any indication, he just met his soulmate. Plus, you speak multiple languages, who else would he get that from that’s in the immediate vicinity. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.
“Are you stupid! What are you doing walking in on that? And sticking around? That was a very dangerous situation, you know,” you fume, not looking at him, too busy firing off angry texts to your commander.
“I was right, my soulmate is a criminal,” Oscar says, a little shocked.
“That guy was your soulmate? Tough luck,” you can’t help but laugh a little. You look at him for the first time and feel your heart beat quicken as every instinct is drawn to him.
“No, you are,” Oscar says as your eyebrow quirks, as if you don’t believe him. And you don’t believe him, it isn’t in your nature.
“Well, I’m not a criminal. Sorry to break it to you. Besides, I know that my soulmate is a criminal, so unless you have a dark side, you aren’t him,” you brush it off, still ignoring the intense pull towards the brunette who is creeping closer to you.
“But-“
“Look, I gotta go,” you quickly take a once over of him, ready to look him up when you are back to safety. You disappear almost into thin air, leaving Oscar confused.
“Oscar? What are you doing here? Is that blood?” Logan stares at his friend.
“I think I just met my soulmate,” Oscar says, a little flabbergasted. Now he knows where his talent for being stealthy comes from. He wonders if you got his driving ability.
“Right. That doesn’t explain blood. You know what, you need to get ready for the drivers parade,” Logan shakes his head, helping his friend get back on track.
Oscar Piastri. That’s who Google tells you that you encountered. He’s handsome, you will admit that. A quick research tells you everything you need. Your soulmate, in fact, was not a criminal. A minor win in your mind.
After your paperwork and evidence submission, you know you can’t return to Sauber, so you choose to walk around instead. A change of clothes and hairstyles helps to hide your identity.
You easily slip into the McLaren motorhome, it is a little sad how easily you have gotten past Formula One’s security. You wait in Oscar’s drivers room for him, feeling uncomfortable and nervous. You don’t like the feeling.
Your job is too dangerous for a soulmate, you’ve seen how devastating it is for those whose soulmate never returns from a mission. You couldn’t do that to someone, so why do you find yourself needing to see Oscar again.
Oscar feels the now familiar tug as he gets out of his car, and he’s never been happier to get P4. He makes his way to his room as quickly as possible, rush in through his post-race procedures.
“You’re here. How are you here?” Oscar sees you leaning against the wall of his drivers room.
“It is embarrassing how easily I can get past the security here,” you have a hint of a smile on your face.
“So, if you aren’t a criminal, who are you?” Oscar swallows, a little nervous. His only knowledge of you is that you are highly dangerous and semifrequently in danger.
“I can’t tell you that. Brilliant race today, maybe I will actually watch one for once,” you walk towards him, and he feels his heart leap in his chest. You slip a card into his hand as you head to the door. “Oh, and thanks for the driving skills. It’s gotten me out of quite a few situations,” you smirk, disappearing once again. Oscar looks down at the card in his hand.
Y/n L/n. Special Services.
In neat penmanship you wrote down a series of numbers, and a note to burn the card after saving the number. Oscar races to the window that overlooks the only exit of the building, but you had already disappeared into the crowd.
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ceesimz · 25 days
Text
when we two parted
part two here!
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This fic is based off the poem When We Two Parted (hence the name, and see a section of it above) as well as a song called Strange by Celeste. I think this fic is a result of the romcom movie marathon i did last week whilst recovering from concussion so make of that what you will. If it's wanted, I can do a part two!
A house party in Menorca was hardly a place to fall in love. Or so Alexia thought.
To some, the end of the season was a welcome break to completely switch off and relish in their life outside of football. For others, or rather, for just one, it wasn't a very enjoyable time, more of a nuisance really. But when Alexia had been invited by Mapi to go to Menorca, where the Zaragoza local had escaped to many times before and talked about it for hours on end everytime when she got back, Alexia couldn't say no this time. They'd be joined by a few of their other teammates, but Mapi had informed them that they would be welcomed by her many friends on the small island and invited to enough endeavours to keep them entertained.
That's how Alexia found herself waking up on the sofa of a beautiful Mediterranean house on the second morning of the vacation. The previous night, she'd partied with her teammates and Mapi's friends, having a few drinks here and there but never passing the line of tipsy. But, when the time came to leave, she had no money on her, a dead phone, she couldn't find Mapi or her teammates, and even if she could ask someone to get her back to the villa they were at, she didn't know the address either. Which is why she's waking up on a random couch on an island she doesn't know, now with a working phone thanks to the phone charger she found (and stole) in a drawer beside the sofa.
It was a little before 7am, way too early for any of the people who had drank the night before to be awake, and that's why she was drawn to the kitchen on her way towards the front door.
Coming from the room was quiet, calm music as well as a soft voice singing along. The voice belonged to a woman clearing the counters from the cups and bottles from the previous night, this young someone lost in her own world as she swayed to the melody ringing out. And when she turned a little so that her features were visible to Alexia, the midfielder couldn't help the smile that graced her face.
This unfamiliar woman was beautiful. It was clear to see and simple to say, she was ineffably gorgeous. Alexia didn't recognise her from the previous evening, as much as she tried to piece the night's events together, she couldn't recall meeting her. She stood there for a few silent moments, admiring the woman in front of her. Dressed in running gear, a tan to her skin and a peaceful smile on her face.
But when the woman in question cursed at the sight of Alexia, not expecting anyone to be lingering in the doorway, the Catalan couldn't help but chuckle quietly.
You were deathly embarrassed by the yelp you let out and the reaction you had to the seemingly harmless party-goer some feet away, caught red-handed in a day dream whilst cleaning the kitchen.
“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in.” You apologised with a grimace, yet the blonde just smiled.
“No, it is okay.” Alexia brushed it off.
The footballer didn’t quite know what to do. She felt drawn to the person across the room from her, but you were complete strangers to each other. The only thing she knew was that, from the few words spoken so far, you spoke English without an accent like she did.
“Um, per- perdóname? Mi español es muy pobre.” You stumbled through the limited Spanish you knew, and it was nothing but endearing to Alexia. “I mean, I can understand it if... if you speak slowly, but…”
“Hablaré más despacio por ti.” Alexia answered, surprising herself. “I can understand English, I am not good at talking.”
“Well, that's us sorted then.”
You internally cursed yourself for being so awkward in the moment, but honestly you weren’t expecting anyone to be up and about at this time, nevermind the most attractive woman on the island. You had no idea who she was, where she came from, or even what her name was, but the intrigue was there and it was burning wildly through you. 
She didn’t seem to mind your awkwardness, instead she met it with some of her own and stood rooted to the ground with the same smile that seemed to only grow bigger the longer this interaction carried on.
“Estas limpiando?” She wondered, stepping a little closer.
“I'm, uh... oh! Yes, I'm cleaning, thought I would get a head start with it.” You gestured loosely to the room before going back to clear the clutter off of the sides again.
“Puedo ayudarte a limpiar, si quieres?” Alexia asked without any second thought, not really sure why she was offering to clean a stranger's house at the crack of dawn. 
She was feeling exactly the same as you did. Confused, but weirdly interested. Alexia was in the same position as you, too; she didn’t know your name, who you were, all that she did know was that you were beautiful and, to her knowledge, frustratingly not from Spain.
“No, that's okay, you're a guest. You're free to go home.” You tried to wave her off, but she wasn’t stepping down so easily.
“No, insisto. Como puedo ayudar?”
Alexia stayed firm in her offer, and before she knew it, she was busying herself with any bit of cleaning she could see. Wiping down the counters, mopping the floors, taking out the trash, she even found herself washing the piles upon piles of dishes that had accumulated. Unbeknownst to the other, you both individually felt like you were caught up in some kind of hallucination, or a fever dream at least. You, stood with the biggest footballer of women’s football (not that you knew that yet), having her clean your friend’s house. Alexia, tidying up at sunrise for a woman she was fastly growing a crush on.
“You are English?” Alexia questioned as she washed her hands, looking over at where her cleaning partner was sorting through a pile of jackets that the party guests had thrown over a loveseat in the corner of the room.
“I am. English and very ashamed at how bad my Spanish is.” You laughed in spite of yourself, pulling a face as you lifted up a random, single high-heel from the never ending pile before dropping it to the ground with a grimace.
“Why?”
“Well, considering I live in Spain and have done for some months now, it should be better than it is. I just have a hard time keeping up with my online lessons.” Hm. She lives in Spain too. Alexia was nothing if not infinitely more intrigued by that new fact. “So, do you live in Menorca? It's a beautiful island.”
“No, Barcelona.”
“Oh, no way!” Alexia looked up at the quick burst of excitement from the person she still didn’t have a name for, chuckling when the woman in question blushed and cleared her throat before speaking. “I live in Barcelona too.”
Alexia's eyebrows shoot up at the new information she had just learnt, a shy smile on her face. She nodded once before turning back to the sink, goosebumps raised on her arms that, when paired with the eruption of butterflies that had just occurred, signified she was in trouble. Rather, her heart was in trouble.
“This house, es muy bonita. Yours?” She steered the conversation away, not wanting to dwell on the sensations flooding her body. She was still talking to a stranger after all.
“No, it's a friend's house, they let me stay for the week and said I could invite people over.”
“Mm. Bueno, gracias por la fiesta, fue divertido. I did not see you?”
“I wasn't at the party, no. My friend María told me she would keep an eye on everything.” Alexia shook her head as she turned to lean back against the counter, her eyes tracking your movements around the room.
“Mapi no está aquí.” She revealed, to which you froze on the spot and groaned.
“That little... ugh. I knew I couldn't trust her.” You complained, cursing under your breath as you threw a beer cap in one of the bins. “Do you know where she is?”
“No. She leaved early.” Alexia grimaced. “Nunca confíes en María cuando se trata de fiestas.”
“Well, I've learnt my lesson now.” You grumbled, Alexia laughing quietly. Quickly glancing around the room, you decided you were happy with its semi-replenished state and stopped to take a breath before turning to face Alexia. “You're friends with María then, I'm guessing? One of the girls she invited?”
“Sí, muy buenas amigas. Demasiado bueno, diría yo.” Alexia said, mumbling the last part in an exasperated tone. You hear it though, and despite it taking a few moments to translate it, you giggle at it.
“I know that feeling. I've known her a while and she still gets under my skin. Like when she abandons her care-taking job for a house that isn't even mine.” You responded, Alexia nodding and chuckling. “I’ll stand her up in the morning so that she can’t go on her beloved boat trip that’s under my name, we’ll see how she likes it.”
“You are on the boat tomorrow?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice that shouldn't have sparked as much excitement in you as it did.
“I am. That's if I don't get arrested for assault before I get there.” You huffed, the woman before you grinning again. “Shouldn't you be getting back to your villa now? I've kept you long enough.”
“Um. I do not know the, uh, dirección.”
“Oh, that's alright. I think I have it, I don’t have my phone on me at the moment but if you grab a pen and paper from beside you then I can write it down.”
“Ah, sí. Gracias.”
Alexia did as she was told and picked a pen from the stationary pot along with a small square of paper from a very organised corner of the kitchen counter. There was a sly grin on Alexia’s face as she handed both items over to you. With pink cheeks that can’t really be excused by the run you went on before you arrived, you jotted down the address of her Airbnb with slightly shaking hands before signing your name along with it too. Then, for reasons you’re not quite sure of, you drew a random, squiggly smiley face beside it. You gave the note to her and waited for her to notice with an even darker shade to your face than before, to which she laughed quietly at the drawing. It was cut short though when she glanced at your name. She said it quietly to herself, before looking back at you and humming.
“Do I get to know your name?” You wondered with a playful smile, head slightly on a tilt and a hopeful glint in your eye.
“Ale.” She said after a moment of brief hesitation. You picked up on it, but were sure she had her reasons, so let it slide.
“Es un placer conocerte, Ale.” You held your hand out and, with a coy smile, Alexia deftly took hold of it and shook it gently.
That handshake, one small and common gesture, was the start of something much bigger than the both of you.
You lay in bed that night, a book beside you waiting to be read and the bedside table lamp on, with a question mark lingering over you. It was just after midnight, and despite the luxury of the house and the grand size of it, you’d chosen the smallest bedroom to stay in during your time. No one ever wanted it, it was always the last choice, but it called to you for some reason everytime. Your friend joked that there should be a plaque with your name on it at this point on the door, saying it was your room and yours only. Maybe you pitied it, maybe you knew how it felt. But it’s just a room, the walls aren’t alive no matter how much they speak to you, and as quick as it arrives the thought leaves. 
The question mark that hangs shrinks suddenly, redacting down into your right hand. Your eyes follow it, moving from the ceiling above you to the palm that fuzzes in an attention-seeking nature. It’s the one that had been held so delicately by the woman that had quietly interrupted you that morning, and before you know it there’s a familiar heat to your cheeks that has nothing to do with the late night warmth of the Spanish weather. It does have everything to do with her.
There was still everything that you didn’t know about her. She was from Barcelona, her name was Ale, and you both shared a mutual friend in María. And if you pieced together things you knew about your good friend, there was other information you could gather about Ale too. María played football for Barcelona’s football club, and they were fairly successful. Though you wouldn’t know a thing, you hadn’t been to a game before nor had you even watched one. The only sides of María you know is the laid back, relaxed version that dismisses any talk about football on vacation, and the party animal you had first met. Football wasn’t your thing, and María wasn’t one to force that upon anyone. She kept that separate from you, and the closest you came to being interlinked with the sport was when she invited her teammates along to join your friend group for whatever social occasion she had organised, both here and back home in Barcelona.
So perhaps Ale played football. Or, at least, worked for María’s team. She did look quite athletic, to say the least. That was probably the most polite way to phrase it. Regardless, Alexia had never appeared at any dinners or club night-outs that María had organised, you would remember if she had.
To the world, Alexia was an enigma. She is to you, too, but for entirely different reasons. The world had known her for twelve years as she performed at the highest standard in football, a role model on and off the pitch to every boy and girl, old and young. You had known her for less than twenty-four hours, but you were struck with the sense that knowing her for a lifetime could be a gift untold by any literature.
Your book doesn’t get opened that night. Thoughts of a certain someone are enough to lull you asleep. And some miles away, that very person ends up in the same scenario.
The shy smiles you greeted each other with bright and early the next morning at the boat charter desk subconsciously notifies you both that there are strangely similar butterflies making a home for themselves in your stomachs. 
For the first half of the day, the pair of you don’t really come together again. Rather, you stick with your usual friends, but Alexia would be lying if she said her eyes didn’t drift over towards you any chance she could get. You’re the same though, but when you’re caught out by one of your friends, you deny it with a blush and try to shove Ale to the back of your mind.
Until everyone decides they’re bored of tanning and relaxing, and they all jump into the ocean the second the boat is anchored. You, as someone not entirely comfortable in the water, decided to stick it out for now and stay on the boat. Considering how hot it was, you would have thought everybody would have jumped in to cool down. But not everyone.
“Hola.” A voice said from behind, before they came to lay beside you at the front of the boat.
“Morning. I don’t have any cleaning for you to do, I’m afraid.” You teased, linking your hands together over your eyes to avoid them averting to other places. Oh, and to block the sun too.
“Thank you, señorita.” Alexia grinned, adjusting her sunglasses as she turned to look at you. “Qué tal?”
“I'm very well, thank you. Y tu?” 
“I am good also. You do not like the water?” She wondered, hearing it call her name but when she saw you alone, she couldn't resist.
“Not really.” You replied sheepishly, and the smirk that built on Alexia’s face after that was a little unnerving. “You can get in, if you want. You don’t have to sit here with me.”
“Hm, no. Y si te caes del barco? I will be your… salvavidas.” Before you registered what you were doing, you scoffed and lightly hit her forearm. The Spaniard laughed at your horrified expression afterwards, waving you off before you got the chance to apologise.
“I don’t need a lifeguard on dry land.” You grumbled, crossing your arms petulantly. 
Alexia hummed in amused agreement, and the pair of you fell into comfortable silence. There was far worse company than that of an enticing Spanish woman, whose idea of relaxation was apparently similar to yours. For some time then, she was content to lie beside you in the heat of the sun, her sunglasses and cap keeping her face protected from the UV… and your gaze. 
You tried, albeit not very hard, to keep your eyes on the words of your book in front of you, but every so often they glanced over at Ale. She was the embodiment of peace, with her hands behind her head and a hint of a smile on her lips. It was your intrigue about her that grasped your attention; out of everyone on the boat, all of her close friends and the others she could have chosen to get to know instead, she was here beside you. That didn’t happen to you very often.
Your solitude was something you valued, though it wasn’t entirely out of choice. Things happened, good and very bad, to get you to this point, and it all made you into the person you are now. People rarely ever gravitated to you like Ale had. More often than not, you were just a fly on the wall. And, really, that was why you weren’t at the party the other night. They weren’t your thing, not just because of the noise and chaos, but because you weren’t really a drink and dance kind of person. You were a sunbathe and read person. 
Being a part of the crowd wasn’t something that appealed to you anymore. For years, you had tried to fit in, but after one too many interactions with the worst half of humankind’s people, it was better to stay in your shell. Some days, you pondered if you had just convinced yourself if solitude was the better option as a result of your own failures, or if it was something you genuinely enjoyed. It was a dichotomy that you didn’t often like thinking about too much.
“You are reading.” Alexia stated simply, meeting your eyes when you turned to look at her with a laugh.
“Yes, I am. Congratulations.” You grinned at her, the other woman rolling her eyes.
“You are reading, but the water is there.” She sat up and rested her elbows on her knees as she glanced around at the glassy ocean that stretched on into the horizon. 
“Do you want a medal for that, Captain Obvious?” You replied without looking away from your book, although the words weren’t really registering anymore.
There was a snarky reply on the tip of Alexia’s tongue at that, but now wasn’t the time to spoil the whole facade she had built up around you. To you, she was just Ale, nobody else. Was it wrong for her to want to relish in the ease that brought for her? Possibly. The life you lived was so different to the one she had, it was nice to remember the simplicity that her world once held.
“Do you not read on vacation? There’s no better time to do it.” You continued whilst she got stuck in her thoughts, glancing at her as she stayed silent. With a gentle nudge against her ankle with your foot, you brought her back down from wherever her mind had floated off to.
“Sí, I do. But there is more fun things to do. What is that phrase? Algo sobre el pelo…” She mumbled to herself, with a scowl and a frown as she jogged her memory that you found way too endearing considering the fierceness it possessed.
“Let your hair down?” You provided, giggling when she briskly turned to you and nodded whilst snapping her fingers.
“Sí! Let your hair down, get in the water. Conmigo, juntos.” She tried to transfer some of her excitement over to you, and you hated to admit it, but she was quite convincing.
“I’m alright here. You go, you don’t need me.” Apparently, the Spaniard wasn’t one to back down.
“No, venga, you are coming. The boat has, uh, those silly chaquetas. You will have one.” She stood up abruptly, bored of sitting still, and held her hands out expectantly. 
“I’m not wearing a life jacket! That’s embarrassing, Ale.” You laughed, though you sat up and took her hands to stand up, trying not to stare at the skin on show that passed your eyeline as you did.
“No, está bien! You, you want to sit aquí and be muy aburrido? No! Diviértete! Vamos.” 
With far more confidence than she actually had deep down, Alexia kept hold of your hand and led you through the empty boat to where she had seen some life jackets earlier. You were a giggling mess behind her, staring at her muscular back and all the artwork that decorated it. Her hand was warm and almost entirely encapsulated yours, a fact you would have to ignore for now. 
You had known her for hardly a day, yet here you were jogging hand in hand and laughing like teenagers. It was… refreshing. And so unusual to anything you had ever known in your life. You were a reclusive person that liked routine, familiarity. Not life jackets and treacherous water. Well, maybe not treacherous, the clear ocean was as still as could be, but that’s besides the point. 
This woman, Ale, barely counted as an acquaintance. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel extraordinarily enticed to dive right in, even if it went against every single one of your instincts. Not in that sense though, only in a metaphorical way.
“Ale, I’m not doing it.” You cowered away from the edge of the small platform at the back end of the boat, whilst Alexia sat beside you with her legs already in the water. Despite your earlier grievances, there was now an embarrassingly neon yellow life vest strapped around your torso that screamed ‘I’m English and terrified of water!’
“Jump! Es bonito, créeme.” She urged you with an enchanting smile that was a little hard to resist. 
In an all too distracting fashion, she whipped her white cap off and sat up straight to tie her hair into a bun, and you had to avert your eyes away from her once more. She caught you already, if the crimson to your cheeks was anything to go by and the awkward nature you adorned anytime she moved. 
“If you’re so sure, why aren’t you getting in?” You challenged her, only for her to smirk.
“Porque no soy… a pussy.” 
At that, she lowered herself into the warm sea with a smug look on her face, whilst you stared at her in shock at how such an innocent seeming woman who claimed to know no English just insulted you in such a way. All she did was turn onto her back and gaze up at you with a knowing grin. The way she looked so effortlessly relaxed floating on her back did seem like fun. But you weren’t so easily convinced.
“Venga, cariño. In.” She waved you over with one hand, smiling coyly as you sighed but sat down on the edge nevertheless. “Sí, step one! Now in!”
“Alright, alright! You’re like a pushy swim coach, let me do it in my own time.” Her teasing demeanour softened then, and she swam the short distance back to where you stood. She held onto the platform with one hand whilst she offered the other out to you.
“I will be here. It is okay, lo prometo.” 
Alexia’s smile wasn’t mocking or exasperated, it was bashful and welcoming. Her eyes and her hand were inviting, and you had a feeling that there was some kind of foreshadowing underlying if you didn’t let her guide you into the warm water around. Like the ones you see in the movies, in the books you read. Whether it was that weird, nagging feeling that had you sitting at the edge and fearfully lowering yourself in or if it was Ale’s carefree nature that you had wished for all your life, you had no idea.
“Ves? Te lo dije.” The blonde had to suppress her laughter at the terror in your eyes that you tried to hide, but that laughter was easy to ignore due to the overriding joy she felt at such a simple event. She just hoped this wasn’t the last she saw of you.
“Sure, sure.” You mumbled, your legs flicking aimlessly to tread the water, when in matter of fact it was your vest doing most of the work. “Okay, it isn’t too bad, actually.”
“Te lo dije, cariño! Ahora, on your back. Arms like an angel. Like, with the snow.” Her instructions were a little skewed, probably due to the language barrier, but you gathered what she was saying. A moment later, you were floating on your back in the water like she had been doing a few moments ago. It was pretty relaxing. “Ahh, sí. Podría hacer esto todo el día.”
“And you say reading is boring on vacation.” You mumbled, gasping when she splashes at you.
“This is better, do not lie.” Alexia shrugged as best as she could considering her current situation.
Little did she know, she had started a war.
Feeling somewhat cocky with your handy floatation device, you awkwardly paddle closer before forcing a wave her way. Immediately after you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter at how it borderline water-boarded her. Once she had wiped her eyes, she looked over at you with revenge burning in her eyes. You were done for. 
Considering you were both adults, the childish fight went on far longer than expected of you both. There were more than just your eyes on each other, the commotion had caught the eyes of a few of the others. One person in particular had a pleased grin on her face. On the surface, of course she was happy to see two of her closest friends get along so well. Deep down, however, she wanted nothing more than to see it develop into something better. 
She had been there to witness things she never wanted to see for the both of you. And as a result of the individual difficulties experienced by each of you, there were some wounds left over that she believed could be healed by something right in front of your eyes. The purity that lived in your hearts which, once comfortable with another, could be so clearly seen on your sleeves was something Mapi believed would do wonders for every aspect of your respective lives.
Alexia’s soul had been stamped on by past relationships and her flame had simmered to a dim glow, her chest a hollow and desolate place. You had stomached countless blows, many that would’ve taken the average person out, and yet you were stronger for it. You’d made a life for yourself, sure. An outside glance would show a successful woman at the height of her career, loving life abroad with enough friends around the globe to fill up a village. Should anyone get a look inside your mind, they’d see it was void of love, of true joy. Like Alexia, your personality had been broken down and shoved into a closet, for no one to see or have the privilege of truly getting to know. 
Mapi knew, in an ideal world, you and Alexia could find yourselves in a relationship that would take you so high on a personal level. Except, it’s not an ideal world, it’s a cruel one that had gotten you both to this shattered point anyway. She could only hope that the road to get there wasn’t a long, arduous one that neither of you would deem worth it. 
“Alright, alright! Truce!” You shouted, desperately trying to swim away from Alexia and her lethal attacks. 
“Ah, I won!” She cheered, throwing her arms in the air in celebration, only for her to sink down. Laughter bubbled out of you before you could stop it, and if the water hadn’t taken her breath away, the sound you made sure would have. “I get a prize, no?”
“What? No! If I had known there was a prize, I would have tried harder.” You rolled your eyes, only to be met with a cheeky grin when you looked back at her.
“No, te equivocas. Lo gano todo, siempre.” Apparently, in every turn of life, Alexia’s competitiveness had no qualms with showing itself.
“Ah, so you are a footballer.”
It meant to come out in a teasing way, but it didn’t quite land right. Alexia’s smile faltered, a dejected look forming in her eyes. Dread washed over you; this happened every time. Just as you were getting somewhere with a person, you said something that would erase all your progress. This time had the chance to hurt a lot more than all the others, even after just a day.
“I am.” Alexia nodded with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes like the others you had seen.
“I’m sorry for saying that, I didn’t mea-”
“No, no, no te preocupes. You… I was going to tell you pronto, pero…” She trailed off and glanced away, shrugging slightly.
“You wanted to do it in your own time. Get a break from that part of your life.” You finished her sentence for her, and just like that, she was gazing at you again with admiration in her eyes.
“Yes.” She whispered with a nod, her eyes wide but not unnerving, rather they were almost full of awe.
Everyone in Alexia’s life questioned why she didn’t relish in the glory and popularity that being who she was brought. Her closest family understood of course, but everybody else thought it was strange. Why work so hard for something and not reap the rewards? She didn’t see them as rewards, that’s why. The eyes, the photos taken without her knowledge, the strangers coming up to her in the street and heckling for her to sign something or take selfies when she’d rather disappear off the face of the earth- she didn’t see why anyone would find joy or pride in that when it’s everything she’s ever hated. 
She knew it was a symbol of her achievements, but was it worth it when she would get followed to her apartment, to her family home? Or around the world, like when there was paparazzi on her private vacation the summer before this one? 
And yet, you understood it. You didn’t know her, or the extremes of her job, or the attention she got, but somehow it just clicked. 
It wasn’t some kind of superficial, fairytale moment of ‘soulmate understanding’ for you, Mapi had informed you on the struggles of rising fame a while ago in the midst of the national team struggles when she had escaped with Ingrid to the very island you were on now, which you happened to be on at the same time. You had some level of understanding, only a little, but that was more than enough for Alexia.
“I get it. We don’t have to talk about it.” You told her softly, to which she sighed in relief. “Can we get out of the water now though? I’m thirsty.”
Just like that, the awkward moment had passed.
The rest of the day on the boat passes in a flash, and before you knew it, it was pulling up at the docks whilst everyone waited to get off. Each person was just as exhausted as the other as everyone piled off one by one across the tiny plank that everyone secretly feared, especially in such a tired state, but with no casualties, they all went their separate ways. Mapi was coming with you for dinner that night, just the two of you, but she was trailing behind on facetime to Ingrid, so you were walking on your own. Until…
“Hey!” Alexia jogged up to you and gently halted you with a hand on your forearm, coming to stand in front of you with a smile that lost its confidence as soon as you met her gaze. “Oh, um… this is for you.”
As quick as she came, she was gone. All that was left was the note she thrust into your hands before she walked back towards wherever she was initially headed.
In utter confusion, you turned to watch her leave, laughing at the way she scurried away. With a shake of your head, you opened the note and felt your heart rate pick up at just a few words.
Me debes un premio, ¿no? Ven a cenar conmigo mañana por la noche, estaré en el restaurante cerca de tu casa esperandote. Espero verte allí. - Ale
Her handwriting was messy, like a spider had fallen in ink and scampered across the paper, but from what you could make out of the Spanish words… she had asked you on a date. Tomorrow. At the restaurant near your friend’s house that you were staying at. 
Luckily for you, there was only one restaurant that fit Ale’s description - your favourite restaurant out of all the places in the world you had travelled to. You had brought it up with her earlier that day, and apparently this woman had a stellar memory. It was an off-handed comment you made, describing it exactly as ‘the restaurant near your house’ during a random, filler conversation you had had with the Spaniard as you dried off after going in the water again. 
If that was the prize she wanted, it would be rude not to entertain that.
“Qué quería Alexia?” Mapi asked, interrupting your internal gushing.
Alexia. Her actual name.
“Um, well…” You started, only to trail off as your cheeks turned a crimson colour. With words failing you, out of embarrassment or wonder, you weren’t sure, you handed Mapi the note.
“Qué es esto…” Mapi cut herself off as she read the words in her mother tongue, before looking up at you with her jaw to the ground and her eyes popping out of her head. “Dios mío!”
“María, be quiet!” You shushed her urgently, snatching the note back, only for her to do the same as she read it again and again. “If you rip that, I sw-”
“Ale moves quick! Damn!” She burst out into giddy laughter, grabbing your shoulders and shaking them excitedly. “You have a date!”
“I should never have told you, for god’s sake.” You muttered, turning and walking away from her. She cheered wildly behind you before running to catch up.
“I think it goes without saying that I am happy for you.” She stated, a lot more toned down than she was a moment ago.
“Yeah, you think?” You huffed, crossing your arms as the defender slung an arm around your shoulders. “How long have you known her?”
“Ale? Uff, a very long time. I knew her a tiny bit from international camp but when I joined Barcelona, we became good friends. Whether she likes it or not, I am her best friend.” She hummed. It was hard to ascertain if this was her normal behaviour or if she was a little buzzed from the drinks supplied on the boat. 
“So she plays for your team?” 
“Alexia is Barça. She is Barça, Barça is her.” 
You didn’t quite understand what she meant by that, but it sounded… important. 
It was that reply from Mapi that stuck for the rest of the evening. You thought about it on the way back to your place, throughout dinner whilst the aforementioned woman spoke basically with herself, and as you got ready for bed that night. 
However, it was as you took out your earrings in the bathroom mirror of the tiny en-suite of your favourite bedroom, that you realised there was something under the surface of that comment. There would likely be one true meaning of what that meant for Alexia, but the possibilities were endless for your overthinking mind. 
Was the way she was towards you just an act? What was her true persona? Who really is Alexia?
She was just a girl, is what you learn as you walked into the restaurant the next day. 
You had no place to question her based on another person’s comments, even if those words were from her best friend. It would be hypocritical of you, after being on the receiving end of such events all your life, to judge someone before you knew them. 
She was just a girl, nervous to go on a date. That much was clear when you saw her from the doorway, tapping her foot anxiously as her hands fidgeted with the rings she wore whilst waiting for you to show up. She had no idea if you would or not, she didn’t have any way to contact you at all. You could never reject her though.
“Ale, hi.” You said as a waitress led you over to the table, stifling a giggle as Alexia’s chair screeched loudly as she stood up to greet you.
“Hi!” She replied, before clearing her throat and hastily wiping her hands on her trousers. She was dressed relaxed, but suited to the occasion, in a soft cream polo shirt and a darker shade of linen trousers. Her hair was in a half-up, half-down of sorts with two strands at the front out to frame her face, and it was hard not to gawk at her. “You look… so beautiful. Really.”
“Thank you, you look amazing too.” You beamed shyly, gladly accepting the hug she offers and blushing a little at the kiss she leaves on your cheek.
“Sit, sit. We need, uh, menus, where ar-” The blonde’s nerves were evidently on show as her eyes looked around frantically, and though yours weren’t quite so obvious, it’s reassuring to know she felt just the same as you. 
You often kept things built up inside, buried deep down to hide or deal with later. Alexia also did that, typically, but there was something about you that made all her habits and inhibitions fly out the window. It scared her, but the larger part of her took that as a sign that you weren’t someone to lose. She would have you in her life in any capacity, friend or partner, and if she screwed up then she didn’t think she could forgive herself. 
“Ale, Ale, calm down. We have all night, relax.” You gently took hold of her hands and brought her back down to this moment, to which she nodded and breathed in deeply. “You’re nervous, it’s okay. I am too.”
“Lo sé, lo sé. I haven’t been on a date in so long, cariño, I do not want to mess this up.” She sighed, looking across at you with honesty in her eyes and her soul on show, and it took your breath away a little. Maybe this woman in front of you was everything you had longed for all these years. Someone whose whole being was built with the same foundations as yours, with the same outlook on life and the same values. The same simple, peaceful ideation of what life with love could look like.
“You won’t mess this up, Ale. Just be yourself, the woman I was with yesterday, and you won’t mess this up.” You told her, and she nodded a lot less desperately afterwards. Her facial features and her whole entire body softened then, you saw it and felt it in the way it travelled throughout her and into her hands. Of which, took yours in return, raised them to her mouth, and kissed each individual knuckle. This was a date, after all, as her actions then had so kindly reminded you.
“Thank you for coming. I was worried that I may have been too, uh, cocky?” She grimaced at the English word on her tongue, only making you smile. 
“No, not cocky at all. I appreciate you being honest and forward, it’s rare nowadays and… if I’m honest, I don’t really like the process of getting into a relationship. Everyone is all hard-to-get and mind games, it’s not for me.” You’re rambling already, not used to this scenario, and you already feel embarrassed. “Oh, god, I’m sorry, I’ve totally made myself look like an idiot, I’m s-”
“No!” She cut you off abruptly, shaking her head as you turned your attention back to her. “I think that also. But you, I think that… you are different. Good different. That is why I asked for a date. We do not know each other a lot, but I really want to.” 
You smiled at her. 
“I do too.” 
From there, things are peaceful. Simple and tranquil, just like you both hoped. It’s easy being with each other, because there’s a deeper understanding that’s by some magic naturally there. Nothing is forced, nothing is awkward. Well, that’s a lie, there’s a little awkwardness but you’ve come to learn that that’s just a thing between you both. Perhaps it’ll go away with time, but there’s only one way to find out.
After a bit of back and forth, it’s decided that Alexia will pay for the dinner, her rule of thumb apparently since she asked you, and the drinks seem to never end. A mix of alcohol and normal drinks, but as the evening goes on, neither of you want to leave. That damn cliche phrase that you had thought could never be true was in fact the perfect metaphor, no matter how much that grates your teeth; the world does go away when you’re together. The lives you individually lead fade into the background with the room around you, and rather than learning the basic facts about each other, for hours you spill detail after detail of countless personal stories that create a summary of you both that are far more detailed and honest than first date small talk could ever do. 
It all comes down to that basic understanding that was there from the first day in the kitchen. It’s inexplicably hard to comprehend the fact it’s hardly been three days since that initial meeting, but there is serenity at the surface level that is built by the roots below which seem to have intertwined, between two countries in one continent, to provide the foundations of what could be. Years, centuries, of history and alignments have set the standards of love, now it’s up to the both of you to live up to the possibilities that have been placed down for you.
It’s something you don’t necessarily understand, which is ironic, but you’ve got your whole life to think about that. This isn’t a moment to miss or pass up on by overthinking. For once in your life, you're not going to do that. Not when your future could be staring you in the face.
“Your English is not as bad as you told me it was.” You stated, folding your arms on the table and gazing at Alexia who had just finished her second glass of wine of the night, already having had a cocktail and some water before it.
“Thank you. I get nervous to speak, I think.” Alexia replied with a shrug that wasn’t as nonchalant as she thought it would be; it was a little revealing of the insecurity she just stated.
“Well, I like hearing you speak it. It’s very endearing, it’s cute.” You told her with a sly smile. Alexia smirked and nodded, seemingly thinking for a moment before she leaned in slightly.
“Y el español? El español es ‘cute’? Creo que es mucho mejor que el inglés. Pero, sabes, depende de ti, amor. Lo que prefieras.” She purposely lowered her voice, meaning it was a little raspy and wonderfully addictive, especially in her second preferred language. You rolled your eyes affectionately, pretending that the goosebumps on your arms and the back of your neck weren’t there.
“I suppose that’s quite… nice, too.” You admitted a moment later, the footballer grinning at you as you blushed behind the hands that covered your face in faux embarrassment. “Your English is better than María’s.”
“No, no, no. Serio? La mencionas aquí en la cena? Estamos en una cita, dios mío.” Alexia descended off into a ramble about her friend, specifically to hear you laugh, which you did. “A date I am paying!”
“It was a compliment!” You argued with a beaming smile, one that Alexia matched instantly as you played along.
“Lo que sea.” She rolled her eyes, reaching for the bottle of wine that had been ordered after the main meal, now nearly empty. She poured a glass each, which was only a quarter full, but it was a sign that this part of the evening was coming to an end. What came afterwards, neither of you were sure. It seemed you weren’t the only one that didn’t want it to end, and to be honest it’s a wonder that it’s only now the filler topics start. “You had a dinner date with Mapi last night, no? How was it?”
“It was good, it was good. Um… kind of embarrassingly, actually, she wouldn’t stop talking… about, uh, you.” 
Wrong thing to say?
“Oh. You told her about tonight?” There was a hint of a frown tugging at her lips, which made your stomach drop.
“Kind of. A little. She was just teasing me, mostly, you know what she’s like.” You laughed nervously, glad to see it put a smile on Alexia’s face as she nodded in agreement. It went quiet for a moment, and it was clear you were stuck in thought as you traced your finger around the bottom of your wine glass. “She was really happy for us, actually. Couldn’t stop gushing about it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Like, she was so happy that it was all she wanted to talk about. Something about how her two best friends dating would be ‘the best thing in the world’, so… yeah.” You shrugged, kicking yourself for bringing it up. Not for long though.
“It could be.” Alexia hummed after a moment. You glanced up from your glass to see her staring at you openly, and not put off by the topic at hand. “It could be the best thing in the world. We do not know until we try.”
All you could do at that was nod, because it caught you so off-guard. So you did nod, a little gormlessly, at which Alexia laughed quietly, and it snapped you back to reality.
“You’re right. We don’t know until we try.” You agreed, Alexia humming again and nodding. 
The silence after that didn’t need to be filled, unlike the last one. In fact, it wasn’t.
You both drank the last mouthful of your wine, sharing a knowing glance over the glasses, before they clinked down against the table and you both stood up. Alexia waited for you as you grabbed your bag, and all you could think was thank god this wasn’t some American movie where you had to pay the cheque after dinner. You shook that thought away, physically, to which Alexia pulled a confused at, only for you to shake your head and grab her hand. 
There was a sense of urgency about the situation now, felt by the both of you. On the way out of the restaurant, Alexia could barely drop a ‘gracias’ to the waiting staff before she was dragged outside the quaint building by you. But, when you step foot outside, you didn’t know where to go from there. You didn’t know if Alexia wanted the same thing you were hoping for in that moment, and if she didn’t, it might have killed all the excitement for you.
Out on the street, bustling with the night life of the summer evening, you turned to her, a little awkwardly, and searched her eyes. All you found was contentment, and a hint of the desire you felt. Still, you didn’t want to assume anything.
“So… what are you thinking?” You wondered. The blonde maintained eye contact with you, and you felt compelled to hold it, despite the awkwardness you harboured. Then, a moment after, she chuckled under her breath with a shake of her head. “Wha-”
In a split second, her lips were on yours. They didn’t move, they were delicate, and it took you a slow moment to catch up. Just as you kissed her back, her mouth was gone. She stood facing the road again like she hadn’t just thrown everything you thought you knew on its head. You gawked up at her, out of confusion and adoration for what you had just experienced, then turned to face the street as well. There was no emotion on her face, just stoicism and a seemingly total lack of care for what had happened. You clasped your hands in front of you, a frown beginning to form. 
Yet, just as it did, there were a pair of warm hands encapsulating your cheeks and the same pair of lips from before back on yours. You got up to speed much quicker this time; the kiss was soft and seamless, moving at a slow pace as the warmth in your heart far outweighed the warmth of the Spanish climate around you. 
You didn’t kiss on the first date, but apparently that was just a rule you had made after going on too many dates with the wrong people. Because this, well, this was so much better than preserving some stupid rule you had stolen from all the books you read.
Your arms reached up to wrap around Alexia’s neck as the kiss deepened a little, perhaps much more outside your comfort zone considering you were on a public street, but that was the thing about Alexia.
This woman was constantly pushing your boundaries, but not in a panic-inducing way. She did it in a way as if she had peeked inside your mind and picked out all the boundaries that you loathed, and instead replaced them with memories you could have only ever dreamed of. That day in the kitchen, if it had been anyone else standing in your doorway, you would have definitely turned them away. It had taken one look in her eyes, and you knew she was going to change the entire trajectory of your life in the most unexpected way.
“Do you, maybe, want to come back to my place?” You whispered, a little breathlessly, with your forehead resting against hers.
“Sí, me encantar-”
Her phone’s ringtone interrupted her.
It rang out from her pocket, and she groaned as she grabbed it, intending to decline the call. However, along with it she saw a barrage of texts she had unknowingly received throughout the night. At the sight, she had no choice but to answer it.
You stifled a frustrated groan as she brought it up to her ear and answered whoever it was in Spanish, taking a few steps away. With a moment’s peace, you dug your own phone out of your bag and frowned at the first notification you saw.
María: Please forgive me for what I have to do!!
Hardly a minute later, Alexia came back over with the same frustration you felt written all over her face.
“Mapi just rang. One of my younger teammates has got very drunk. I need to go and care for her tonight.” She revealed with a sharp breath out, slotting her phone back into her pocket and shaking her head down at you.
“It’s okay.” You told her with a reassuring smile, frowning again when she shook her head.
“It is not. I am sorry. I wanted to… to spend the night with you, not with-” She cut herself off with a groan, both hands coming up to rub at her face in annoyance. 
“Ale.” You murmured, gently pulling her arms back by her forearms, before your hands slid down her soft skin to hold her hands between you both. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m just happy I spent the evening with you today. I really enjoyed it. I think I needed it.”
The anger inside her melted away as a result of your admission. She nodded and brought you in for a hug, which you happily indulged in.
“I will make it up to you. I promise.” She stated firmly, pulling back from the hug to gaze down at you. It took her barely time at all to convince herself to kiss you once more. And in it, she conveyed every feeling and emotion she would have shown you that night, had she been able to.
“We’ll see each other tomorrow anyway, at the dinner, remember?” You reminded her of the next day's event, something you were both invited to once again. She nodded, and at that, you parted ways.
That day, you didn’t end up speaking much about your current life, or hers, and you never found out what María meant by her statement the night before, because quite frankly it wasn’t on your mind. It doesn’t matter to you. You learnt all you needed to know that you were in love with her, even if it had been just three days.
Despite the previous night's perfections, there was one fatal flaw that you had failed to make known so far. It would bite you in the ass as much as it would hurt Alexia.
After the dinner with everyone that had come along on the trip, including yourself and Alexia, you would be going back to the house you were at to pack for your flight only a few hours afterwards. Tonight was your final night.
In your bag, there was a surprise that would hopefully make it somewhat less painful than it could be. That might be wishful thinking though.
Most people were there by the time you arrived at the idyllic restaurant, a laid-back vibe to the place with fake plants and vines covering the walls and vintage bulb lights strewn across the ceiling. All of that was at the back of your mind; there was, realistically, only one reason you agreed to this dinner tonight. 
“You're here.” Alexia whispered in your ear as she took a seat beside you, once again choosing you in a room filled with many more interesting people.
“I am.” You turned to her with a smile, a certain fluttery feeling in your stomach as a delicate hand landed on your knee. 
“I am so happy to see you.” She admitted, glancing around to see everyone else busy with greetings, so she looked back at you and quickly ducked down to place a kiss on your shoulder. “I have waited all day for this, for you.”
“That’s a pretty big compliment, Ale.” You said sheepishly, cowering back into your seat and feeling a little out of place in such a large group.
“It is true. I swear it.” She beamed, and that alone was all the persuasion you needed to stay. 
And you did, no matter how much your skin crawled with the amount of people and conversations and extroversion on show, you stayed. 
Everytime you got a wave of anxiety or unbelonging, there was a steady presence beside you that remained there at all times. It was strange, having so much trust in what most people would class as a stranger considering the time frame of it all, but for you she was like a shelter in the storm. 
It’s just a shame that you had a cloud of dread looming over you all night, and she was soon to be the victim of it. 
At one point, after the main meal, you managed to sneak away from it all. You slipped out quietly, without a fuss or a fanfare, having perfected the Irish goodbye during all these years. You could be found at the rooftop bar just above, your guilt not allowing you to head home just yet due to the one person who you had told to meet you there when she was ready.
For much less time than you expected, you nursed a single mocktail, at peace with your solitude once more, even with the Menorcan nightlife booming all around. But, as you had learnt within the last few days, there was one person that could always pull you out of the anxious pit you thought yourself into.
“Hola, cariño.” Alexia slid onto the stool across from you at the small, intimate table you had chosen by the railing, with an incredible view of the surrounding area. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, fine.” You brushed her off with a tight-lipped smile, one Alexia could see through instantly, as one hand anxiously clasped your glass and the other scratched the back of your neck. 
“No, you do not look fine.” Alexia frowned, delicately resting a hand on your forearm.
“That’s kind of you.” You laughed, but it was humourless.
“No, you understand what I said. You do not seem yourself.” She said, a little softer than her last words. You shrugged and averted your eyes to the scenery to your right. Her hand squeezed your arm, trying to gain your attention again. It didn’t work, “You can talk to me. I will listen. I am good at that.”
“You are good at listening.” You smiled at her then, to her relief, falling deeper and deeper into her eyes everytime she grinned at you. “It really doesn’t matter, Ale. It’s… it’s silly.”
“Not to me. Venga, talk. Off your mind.” 
Pushing your boundaries, again. Not to laugh at you, or mock you, or cause years worth of emotional anguish. She was doing it simply because she cared. There was no double meaning to it. It was just who she was.
“I guess those kinds of things, the dinner with everyone, just aren’t really… my crowd.” You met her eye nervously, just to be met with earnesty and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. “I feel out of place there, I always do. I just wish I could be in the background, but at the same time I want to be a part of it. Everyone looks so… free of their burdens, and I just carry them around with me like chains dragging me down and I don’t know how to get out of that mindset.”
The silence that met your rambling was deathly unnerving, and part of you was considering hopping on a flight right this second, to anywhere that’ll have you. Somewhere cooler than this heat, off the grid, with no one around… Alaska? Somewhere in Canada? Or perhaps a place in Chile, or Peru, or-
“You were never in the background to me. Never.” Alexia stated honestly. “You can be like them. But I like your quieter qualities too. Who you want to be one day, I think I will like her anyway.”
For a moment, they were precisely the words you wished to hear all along. Then that passed. In its wake, the same sense of dread from earlier. Almost as if you were already going through the heartbreak that would surely come.
“I have something else to tell you, Ale.” You mumbled. She nodded, emphatically, more than prepared to take on board any more of your insecurities, worries, anxieties, anything. “I’m going home tonight. My flight is at five in the morning.”
“W…what?” Alexia murmured, hoping, praying that she hadn’t heard what she was sure she had.
“I have to leave soon, to get ready for my flight home.” You repeated, expecting her to pull away or to get angry. She didn’t. But you could see the melancholy swirling in her eyes, no doubt drowning her heart too.
“Why did you not tell me sooner? I thought we had more time.” She said dejectedly, her grasp on your arm a little firmer than it was before. It was clear to you she wasn’t ready to let go yet, and that made it all indefinitely worse. Much harder than you expected.
“I-” Your voice cracked over the short syllable. “I’m sorry, Ale. I didn’t really know how to tell you.”
“Do not be sorry, and do not cry, please. It will hurt more if you cry, then I will cry, it will be a mess.” You laughed at her words, and she managed to crack a smile too. “When do you have to go?” 
“Soon. Soon.” You answered, sniffling and wiping your eyes before the tears fell. Then you remembered. “But I have something for you! It’s in my bag, just for you.”
Alexia chuckled at how you frantically looked through your bag for the item you were looking for, pulling it out not a moment later. She took it from you gently, like it was some kind of ancient relic she had to handle with care, knowing how much it meant to you.
“Your book?” She smiled softly at you, this one object worth so much more to her than anything she possessed, just due to the sentiment of it.
“My favourite book. I think you’ll like it. It’s in English though, so that might put you off.” You teased, but instead of playing along, she shook her head and tore her eyes away from the gift to gaze at you with nothing but unabashed amazement exuberating from her. 
“No, I will read this. Thank you, for giving a piece of yourself to me.”
“Here, let me write something in it for you.” 
You rooted through your bag for a pen you knew was in there, finding it in a heartbeat. Alexia slid the book over to you and watched you with great intent, only for you to turn the cover over so she couldn’t see what you wrote on the first page. She rolled her eyes and looked away, entirely missing the way you flicked through to the final page and scribbled something down quickly. The click of the pen brought her attention back to you, and she went to take it back before you slammed your hand down on the cover.
“No, don’t read it while I’m here. Wait until I’m gone.” You demanded. With a sigh, she gave in, knowing she would let you lead her off of a cliff if you just said the words. She went to speak again, only to be stopped by a ringtone, yet again. “I’m sorry, Ale. That’s my alarm. I need to go.”
Goodbyes were the worst. No amount of preparation and acceptance could force away the onslaught of emotions that built up merely at the idea of them. You found yourself grasping for the right words, but you knew deep down that none can appropriately capture the magnitude of what you’re feeling. It’s a blur, that sacred moment, and it feels awfully final. Though you know that life, with all its beauty, will cross your paths again some day, there’s no certainty in anything. 
And that thought, as you pull away from her arms and take it step by step across the bar, constricts your heart tightly, as if it’s still her hand holding it and refusing to let go. You feel the ache of her absence already, though you still share the same air, and the tears on your face glimmer in the warm light of the fairy lights above you.
Alexia hadn’t quite felt heartbreak like it. She had known love, she had known loss. But never had she felt so sick to her stomach at the idea of someone walking so simply out of her life. Still, she had no way to contact you, only knowing your first name and that you lived in Barcelona. Yet, at the same time, she knew everything about you. In your opinion, there wasn’t another human on earth that so deeply understood the essence of your being. But she couldn’t do anything about it. You were out of her reach now. A face in the distance. 
In secret you both met and in silence you will now grieve, because no one could understand how deeply intertwined you had become with each other’s souls in such a short time.
Isn't it strange, how a few fleeting moments can change every hope and dream about the future. And yet, in the glimpse of an eye, it can disintegrate into a past memory before we even know it.
Part two? because what if i said, theoretically, i already have the whole entire plotline figured out for it🌝 let me know what you think :)
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puckinghischier · 1 month
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Spotlight
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luke hughes x fem!reader
summary - reader prefers to stay out of the spotlight being luke hughes’ girlfriend brings
notes - y’all asked for luke, so luke you’ll get. i wanted to try to get out at least one more fic for you guys before my semester kicks off tomorrow. i don’t know how often i’ll be able to write once things get going, but i’m going to try my best not to completely disappear again. i don’t really like the ending of this, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. happy reading! 🫶🏼
request - “go with me?” “only if you’ll hold my hand” “take my jacket, i don’t want you catching a cold”
[2.3k]
You were someone that absolutely hated the spotlight. You hated the feeling of eyes on you, the knowledge that every move you make is being observed and analyzed.
You flew under the radar all through school, until college. You managed to become valedictorian of your program, earning a highly sought after position with a company based out of New Jersey.
The city has always brought a sense of anonymity to you that you’ve enjoyed. The ability to be a stranger everywhere you go brings a certain comfort to you.
That is, until you met one of the most well-known men in Jersey.
You first met Luke at an event your company was hosting in partnership with the Devils to present them with a hefty donation for a new practice facility. You had tried to get out of going, suit and tie events not being your typical scene, but your boss informed you that you were required to attend.
Even wearing the most plain dress you could find, you caught the attention of none other than the team’s rookie defenseman. You had tried to politely make your exit, but Luke was too intrigued by the pretty stranger in the corner.
The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking, despite the feeling of every eye on you as Luke lead you back to a table. The two of you exchanged numbers at the end of the event, Luke inviting you out to a game. He offered to give you a ticket, but you informed him that your company had rink-side season seats, courtesy of the GM after the donation.
You attended games regularly after that night, blending in the sea of red with Luke’s own Jersey on your back—another perk of the large donation— while also chatting with Luke nearly every day over text, which eventually morphed into phone calls, then facetime calls when he was on the road.
Four months after your initial meeting, Luke decided to make it official and put a label on your relationship.
You had worried about the unwanted attention that came with being a ‘WAG’ as you learned the other significant others on the team were nicknamed, but your feelings for Luke were greater than any discomfort you may experience.
Now, though, looking at the hoard of photographers that are stationed around the rink, your anxiety begins to spike a little.
“Honeybee, I promise it’ll be fine. They probably won’t even focus on us, anyways. They’ll want a few shots of me and Jack with mom and dad, but it’s likely they’ll be too busy on the guys with kids to even notice you’re with me,” Luke reassures you, crouched in front of you while tying your skates.
Today was family skate day for the team, Luke having asked you weeks ago to participate with him.
You agreed, despite your limited ability to skate, thinking it was just going to be the players and their families, no media presence. When you arrived with Luke this morning, however, and you saw the photographers trying to get pictures through the windows of Luke’s BMW, you realized you were wrong.
“I’m just nervous, Luke,” you tell him quietly. “I know if they release pictures of you with a girl during family skate it’s going to be the next big hockey gossip topic, and then it’ll feel like I’m under a microscope.”
Luke’s soft eyes look up at you, sensing the nervousness in your own.
“I know, sweet girl. But I promise, I’ll have Tom talk to the media and tell him to withhold any pictures of us together, if that makes you feel better?” he offers, picking up your now skate clad foot off of his knee and placing it on the padded floor.
You think about the offer, but realize it would still cause unwanted attention on you. You don’t want to be difficult, just invisible.
“No, I don’t want to overcomplicate things. It’s fine. Like you said, I’m sure they’ll mostly focus on everyone else,” you smile down at him, watching his own grin overtake his face.
“Well then, it’s time we finally get you acquainted with the ice. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of it in your future,” he winks, standing to his full height and holding a hand out to help you off of the bench.
He helps you walk over to the entrance to the rink, steadying you after every wobble. Once you reached the gate, you hesitate, halting your movements.
“C’mon, Honeybee. Go with me?” Luke asks you, already having stepped on the ice.
Thinking about what this means once more, and the huge step it is, no only onto the ice but in your relationship, you hesitate for only a few seconds.
“Only if you hold my hand,” you tell him, your words going deeper than just ice skating.
“Always,” he responds, tugging your hands towards him when you step onto the ice, shakily keeping your balance.
“Well, look at you, Wallflower, out here skating with the big dogs,” Jack calls out, skating up towards you and Luke.
Looking over to give him a short smile, you try to keep a majority of your attention on not falling over as Luke slowly pulls you towards him as he skates backwards.
“Figured it can’t be that hard if you do it all the time,” you tease him back, the two of you becoming close friends over the course of yours and Luke’s relationship.
Jack, as rambunctious and rowdy as he can be, is one of the people who works the hardest to keep you out of the spotlight, other than Luke, of course.
On the rare occasion you decide to tag along for team outings with Luke, Jack will act as your own personal body guard, perfectly hiding you in-between him and Luke anytime there’s a flash of a camera or a squeal of a fan.
“Oh, yeah, make fun of the professional. Let’s see you do this,” Jack makes a big show of skating backwards while swiveling, then executing a very poor jump, but still managing to land upright on his skates.
You roll your eyes at him, only glancing up for a few seconds at a time, trying to keep your eyes on your own feet.
“Alright, Jack, that’s enough showing off. Give the poor girl a break,” you hear Ellen scold her middle child as her and Jim skate over towards the three of you, hand in hand.
“Hey, she started it. I was just trying to defend myself,” he holds his hands up in surrender.
Luke guides you over to one of the short walls, allowing you to hold onto it for support for a second, giving you a break.
“Don’t act like you have to have a reason to show off, it’s just your natural state,” you tease Jack again, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.
“You got me there,” Jack doesn’t argue, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.
“Jack! Luke! Over here!” you hear a voice yell, turning to look at the photographer a few feet away from you, leaning over the wall with his camera pointed in your direction.
You feel the spike of anxiety in your chest, attempting to scoot further down the wall to separate yourself from them, but nearly losing your balance.
Luckily Luke was right there to catch you. “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll just get a few pictures of our family together and then move on,” he assures you once he makes sure you’re steady enough to be left alone.
You watch as Jack and Luke position themselves in just the right way that you’re completely hidden behind them, the added bodies of Ellen and Jim only ensuring your hidden state.
The photographer snaps a few shots of the family before giving a thumbs up, looking down to check the quality of his pictures.
You let out the breath you were holding in, sagging a bit at the relief of avoiding any unwanted attention.
“See, told you there was nothing to worry about,” Luke skates over to you again, leading you away from the wall.
“Luke! How about a shot of you and your lady!” the same photographer yells out, causing your relaxed state to turn rigid in a heartbeat.
“Nah, man. No pictures for her today. Just me and Jack,” Luke replies, skating to stand in front of you, blocking you from the camera pointed at you.
“Oh, c’mon, man. The fans will love it!” the photographer tries again, attempting to move positions to catch a glimpse of you.
“He said, no, man. Go get some shots of Cap or something. She doesn’t want her picture taken,” Jack skates up, standing in front of both you and Luke.
The photographer rolls his eyes, agitated at the loss of a good picture opportunity. “Fine, whatever,” the man huffs, turning and walking towards Nico and his family.
“Thanks, you guys,” you mumble out, embarrassed at the interaction.
“I told you, no pictures if you don’t want them,” Luke turns to face you, taking your hands in his once again, pulling you out further onto the ice.
The rest of the skate goes smoothly, no more unwanted attention from the photographers, just you and Luke and his family skating in small circles and having a good time.
Towards the end of the skate, you start bringing your gloved hands up to rub at your red nose, the chill of the ice finally getting to you.
“You cold, Honeybee?” Luke asks you, knowing how chilled you get, even when wearing layers like you were right now.
“Yeah, it’s a little chilly in here. Not that you’d know,” you tease your boyfriend, gesturing to his full set of pads and jersey he was wearing. Not to mention his tolerance for the cold anyways.
He leads the two of you over towards the benches, leaving you leaned against the wall for a second before returning with something in his hands.
“Here, take my jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold,” he tells you, draping your favorite plaid jacket of his over your shoulders.
You put your arms through the large sleeves, loving how you were now engulfed in the smell of his cologne.
Thanking him, you lean up to give him a small kiss, not caring who was watching, lost in your love for your boyfriend.
“Alright, let’s get you out of these skates and back into your normal shoes before people start filing in for warm ups. I have a game to play and you have to get to your seat so you can watch your hunky boyfriend do his manly job of hitting people and chasing a piece of rubber on ice,” he tells you, causing you to laugh at him, bringing a hand up to ruffle his curls.
After helping you remove your skates, and pouting until you give him a good luck kiss, Luke shoos you away so you can make your way to your usual seat, Jim and Ellen opting to join you at the glass rather than sitting in a box with some of the other player parents.
The boys ended up winning their game, Luke coming straight out of the locker room after the game and picking you up in a celebratory spin, claiming you have to go skating with him before every game now.
You laugh at his superstitious self, grabbing his hand and walking towards the exit of the rink with him to join the rest of the team for celebratory drinks, not wanting to bail on Luke after such a game.
Weeks later, when you see an article containing the pictures from the family skate event, you click on it and scroll through the various snapshots.
You find yourself smiling at all of the family pictures of Luke’s teammates, enjoying how happy the guys are to have their wives and kids with them on the ice.
Scrolling all the way to the end of the article, you find yourself stopping on a couple pictures in particular, the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your stomach.
The last two pictures in the article are pictures of you and Luke. The first was taken when he was zipping up the jacket he gave you, the two of you looking at each other with so much fondness you could feel the love radiating from the picture.
The second is when you were craning your neck to give Luke a small kiss, the picture captured right before your lips touched, both of you smiling at the other with the same fond look in your eyes.
Your immediate reaction should have been a level three meltdown, your picture out there with Luke, officially, in an ESPN article of all places, but you were surprisingly calm. You should have been screaming and angry, having specifically told the photographer no pictures, but you couldn’t find that anger within yourself.
The pictures showcased yours and Luke’s love for each other so well, you wanted copies of them for yourself. Suddenly you didn’t care if people knew your name, or your face. You could care less if you were front and center on every hockey gossip page in existence.
All you cared about was the amount of happiness you saw on Luke’s face in the pictures, and how deeply you felt about him.
So, when Luke called you an hour later, panicked and telling you he was in the process of getting them taken down, you told him it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to be taken down, because you didn’t care if you had to stand naked in the middle of the rink during puck drop at his next game, you just wanted people to know you loved him with every ounce of your being.
Your aversion to attention be damned, seeing these pictures made you want to scream your love for him from the rooftop of the highest building in Jersey. You were still opposed to the idea of unwanted and unnecessary attention, but decided right here that there would be no more hiding. You were going to be there for Luke in any way he wanted or needed you from here on out. And if you happened to be caught in a few pictures on the way? Well, you guess you’ll just have to get them framed.
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