#fic: once upon a time

[wingdingery]

for @anawrites3, the deleted intro from once upon a time (BruDick Cinderella AU ft. Slade as the fairy godmother)

__________

It’s not just that he can’t buy the dress.

Dick’s resourceful, and he has friends—he’s sure he could convince someone to help buy it for him, if he really wanted. So he can’t use that as an excuse for why he’s just standing there, staring at the dress instead of making a plan to purchase it.

The real issue is what he wants the dress for.

A carriage clatters down the street, and he jumps and hurries away from the dressmaker’s window before anyone notices him, only to slam face-first into someone solid enough to send him sprawling backward. Hands grab him and pull him up, and he finds himself face-to-face with the king of Defiance.

Slade raises an eyebrow, looking between Dick and the dress in the window, and Dick fights back his flush as he yanks himself out of Slade’s grip and marches off.

Slade catches up with him easily. “Not very polite of you.”

“Like you’ve ever been polite,” Dick says without stopping. “What are you doing here?”

“What is everyone else doing here?”

It’s a fair response—it’s only a few days before The Ball, after all.

That’s how Dick’s thought of it, since he first heard of it. The Ball. The one where King Bruce—thirty and five, this year—will finally choose someone to rule by his side.

Invitations were sent to nobility and royalty far and wide—within Gotham, to Kandor and Themyscira, even to Defiance and Nanda Parbat. In some ways, it’s more of a political event than anything else, bringing in powerful people from far and wide to make connections and strike agreements. One will make the most powerful connection of all.

Dick doesn’t need a crystal ball to know that it won’t possibly ever be him.

It doesn’t mean he can’t dream about it, though; doesn’t mean he can’t let his eyes catch on a shimmering flash of blue and look at it and think, what if.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Dick says. “It’s not as though it’s a tournament.”

“You think I would turn down the opportunity to become King Consort of Gotham?”

Dick gives him an unimpressed look. “Yes.”

He first encountered Slade three years ago on the battlefield, trying to finish the war his son started. It ended in a truce after his second son died. Dick thought, then, that Slade was more interested in having his son back than in power, and it seemed he was right—Defiance had been a quiet neighbor ever since.

Slade smirks slightly. “My daughter was interested in the ball. I was interested in what had become of you. But it seems you have your eyes on someone else.”

Dick scowls. “Shut up.”

“I could have your tongue for that,” Slade says idly.

“Not in Gotham, you can’t.”

“Perhaps not.” Slade’s eye flashes. “Are you intending the ball as a candidate?”

“You know I can’t.”

“But you want to.”

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

“And if I could make it happen?”

Dick’s steps stutter, and he looks sidelong at Slade, who seems serious. It’s… worth considering, honestly. Slade has access to money, and magic. He could get Dick into the ball as part of Defiance’s entourage. He could give Dick everything he needs to pull this off.

But he won’t do it for free.

“What would you ask in return?” Dick says.

Slade smiles. “I’ll do everything in my power to give you every advantage you’d like,” he says. “But if at the end of this, you still aren’t the future consort of Gotham—you’ll become the future consort of Defiance instead.”

[reegis]

✨mechanisms character designs!!✨

lyf gets to be blue because i said so

who else should i draw!!!!

[scrawnyghstts]

do any of you ever lay awake at night thinking about how Kremy gifted Gideon a comb even though, obviously, lizardfolk don't have any hair.

because that means that Kremy went out of his way to get Gid this gift. A comb isn't just something an alligator would have or just collect somewhere to have it for later, Kremy likely never needed or thought of having anything of the sort.

But Kremy noticed how roughed up Gideon was, how he didn't have anything on him to take care of himself and Kremy came up with the idea and then spent time and possibly money (or he just swiped it but still) to find a nice comb just for Gideon and then gave it to him.

Nikkie described it so beautifully that it was the first time someone saw Gideom as his own man and that also makes my heart ache so much. But I just can't stop thinking about how freaking Kremy Lecroux, went out of his way, to get a thing he likely never even thought of getting, just to give it to his partner (in crime). Like yeah sure we can talk about how Kremy wouldn't want to travel with someone unkept but I don't think it's that. He'd get Gideom a bath and a haircut or something at an inn and done, issue solved. But no, Kremy specifically wanted to get a thing for Gideon, he wanted him to have something that's just for him, something to help him get his sense of self back, his looks and help him find his confidence.

It was thoughtful gift from Kremy who probably is the last person to do thoughtful gifts to just some people. But he made that gesture for Gideon.

like do you ever just lay there and think about all that and how they both must have felt almost an instant bond forming between them, doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic, like do you just-- yeah.

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[goblinontour]

Dublin In Ecstasy

you meet him in a pub…you end up painted by him

series masterlist

warnings: dom!al, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public, piv, spanking (a bit), the word ‘daddy’ (once), alcohol, weed, blood, drool

word count: 5k

Dublin, 2018

The Dublin air was thick with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses as you stepped into the pub. It was the third one of the night, and already it felt like the right place to be. The interior was a mix of all different voices, the kind of comforting chaos that only a place like this could offer. You walked through the groups of people, each step filling you with a sense of excitement. It was nights like these that made your impromptu trip worth every penny.

Reaching the bar, you leaned in, trying to catch the bartender’s eye when a figure suddenly crashed into your peripheral vision. He almost collided with you, stopping himself just in time with his arms braced on the bar’s edge. His breath came in heavy, excited bursts, clearly having indulged in what a night like this had to offer. He ordered a round of drinks in a voice that cut through the noise, confident and commanding. Your eyes widened slightly as you took him in.

He was dressed pretty simple, but he didn’t need any more than that. A tight shirt, unbuttoned scandalously low, revealing glimpses of a chiselled chest. A black leather jacket hung casually over his shoulders, and his tight-fitting pants left little to the imagination. But it was his face that truly captivated you. The buzzcut he sported highlighted his sharp features, his cheekbones catching the dim, ambient light. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, giving him an effortless perfection. He was hot. Really hot.

You couldn't help but stare, your gaze tracing the angles of his face, the curve of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he surveyed the crowd, completely oblivious to your presence. It felt like time had slowed, every detail of his face imprinting itself in your mind.

Eventually, he glanced over, catching you in the act, red-handed. There was no denying as to what you were doing. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, his voice smooth and laced with slight amusement.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks but met his gaze steadily. “Just admiring the scenery.” you replied, matching his playful challenge.

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to resonate through the chaos around you. “Alex.” he introduced himself, extending a hand.

You took it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Nice to meet you, Alex.”

“Sooo…” he started, his voice turning like a singsong, clearly enjoying the state of his intoxication at the moment, “What brings you to Dublin?”

“Exploring, meeting new people, trying out all the different pubs…getting drunk.” you said with a shrug. “And you?”

“Same.” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Though I suppose I’m a bit more familiar with the scene.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that so? Any recommendations?”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke over the din of the pub. “Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you have a great night.”

The night was young, he was hot, and the promise in his words was just too tempting to resist. You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. “Lead the way, Alex.”

With a nod, he grabbed the tray of drinks he had ordered and gestured for you to follow. You wove through the crowd, following the leather-clad figure like a beacon. He led you to a booth crowded with people, all of whom greeted him enthusiastically. Him or the drinks. Probably the drinks. But it was clear he was well-known and well-liked here. He introduced you to his friends, who welcomed you warmly, their laughter infectious.

For a while, you simply enjoyed the company, the drinks, and the easy banter that flowed around the table. Alex, ever the charmer, kept the conversation lively, his sharp wit and roguish smile captivating not just you, but everyone in the group. It wasn’t long before one of the guys showed up with a whole bottle of champagne.

“It’s time to celebrate, come on!” Alex declared, grabbing you up with him from the booth and snatching the bottle from the hand extended towards him.

“What are we celebrating?” you asked, laughing as you stumbled along with him. But he didn't bother giving any more details, and you didn't care to ask.

He led you to a slightly clearer spot near the edge of the room, his grip firm and confident. With a flourish, he began to open the champagne, the cork popping free with a satisfying sound. He held the bottle at the level of his groin, the fizzing liquid bubbling out. The sight of him there, hands positioned just so, made your mind wander. You couldn't help but imagine him right in that position, his hands in the same place but while coming all over your face.

You must have given away your thoughts, because Alex's eyes flickered with a knowing glint. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, and whispered, “I’ll do just that as soon as we’re alone.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. Oh, you knew you were in for more than just a good night.

After a little while, he suggested moving to another pub, and you found yourself agreeing without hesitation.

The streets of Dublin were alive with energy as you moved alongside him, each stop offering a new flavour of the city's vibrant nightlife. Alex’s presence was magnetic. He knew all the best places, all the hidden gems that you never would have found on your own.

At the particularly cosy pub you settled on, with dim lighting and just the right music playing in the background, you found yourselves sitting close, his arm draped over the back of your chair. The conversation turned slightly more personal, but he didn’t give away too much. Maybe that’s what made him so appealing in this moment.

“You’re quite the enigma yourself, you know.” Alex said, his eyes never leaving yours. “What made you decide to come here all alone?”

You smiled, taking a sip of your drink. “I wanted an adventure. Sometimes you just have to step out of your comfort zone, right?”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. I’ve spent most of my life chasing that feeling. It’s what keeps things interesting.”

“And does it work?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. “Meeting you certainly has.”

The words hung in the air between you, charged with the knowing thoughts that something more would eventually happen. You both knew it from the first moment you laid eyes on each other. The night was winding down, but you felt like it was just beginning. With a daring smile, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and kissed him. Maybe it was a bold move, but the way he responded, his lips meeting yours with equal fervour, told you it was just right.

You could feel him smile into the kiss, the curve of his lips pressing warmly against yours. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you off your barstool and guiding you to stand between his spread thighs. His grip was firm, possessive, his fingers digging slightly into your hips.

He broke the kiss before it could get any deeper, his breath hot against your lips. “I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel.” he said, his voice low and rough. And so fucking sexy.

Confusion flickered in your eyes as he got off the stool and shrugged on his leather jacket, the piece settling perfectly over his broad shoulders. He took a step back, leaving you standing there, feeling the chill of his absence. But before you could question it, he reached out, his hand finding the small of your back. “You’re coming too.” he continued, his eyes locking onto yours with a promise that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hand on your back, almost too low, guided you through the pub and out into the cool night air. The pressure of his palm was tantalising, teasing, and you found yourself wishing it would slide just a little lower.

The walk to his hotel went by in a blur. Alex kept making teasing comments and giving you compliments that would have been way too forward from anyone else, but he pulled it off effortlessly. His confidence was intoxicating, each word making you smile and blush, adding to the excitement flowing through your veins. His hand stayed on your back, his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin, peeking between your top and skirt.

In the elevator, the atmosphere grew even more charged. Alex turned to you and, before you could react, he pinned you between his arms. The sound of his hands hitting the mirror on either side of you made you gasp, and then his lips were on yours, hot and demanding. The kiss was hungry, his tongue exploring your mouth with an eagerness that left you breathless. Your hands instinctively reached up, clutching at his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his leather jacket. When he finally pulled away, you were left panting, your heart pounding as the elevator doors opened with a soft chime.

The room he led you into was huge and absolutely gorgeous, with panoramic windows lining the whole back wall, offering a breathtaking view of the city. The lights of Dublin spread out before you, mixing with the dazzling array of stars in the sky. It felt surreal, like stepping into a dream.

Alex walked over to the sofa in the sitting room area and sat down, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I wanna smoke, love, do you mind?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t mind.”

He asked again, waving a joint in the air so you could see it. “You sure?”

“Go ahead.” you replied, your voice soft but certain.

For a few moments, you stood by the window, taking in the stunning view. The city lights cast a soft, ambient glow into the room, but soon, your attention shifted back to him, the real view you wanted to admire. Alex took off his jacket and threw it over the back of the sofa, the movement making his muscles flex. He stretched his arms up, showing just how big and defined they were, the motion pulling his shirt tighter against his chest and highlighting every contour of his physique.

The sight of him turned you on more and more with each passing second. He bent forward to grab the ashtray and brought it closer, his movements fluid. He grabbed his lighter and lit the joint, taking a long drag and inhaling deeply. He leaned back on the seat, throwing his head back over the edge as he exhaled the smoke into the room. The tendrils of smoke curled in the air, the scent mixing with the faint cologne he wore, a heady combination that made your pulse quicken.

“Come sit.” he told you, not even looking at you, just calling you over with an air of command.

You moved to sit next to him, but he tsked softly, shaking his head. With a gentle but firm touch, he guided you to sit on your knees in front of him, right in between his legs. You followed his lead, his forwardness. His eyes roamed over you, dark and precise, like he was trying to decide what he was going to do to you. He took another drag of the joint, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could feel the heat of his attention as it travelled over your body.

As he leaned forward, his free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up slightly. “You look incredible down there.” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, and you instinctively parted your lips and welcomed it in your mouth.

He exhaled another plume of smoke, the scent intoxicating, before setting the joint aside for a moment. His hands moved to your shoulders, squeezing gently before sliding down your arms, leaving a trail of warmth and goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, “How far out of your comfort zone are you willing to go tonight?”

Your answer was a breathless whisper, your eyes locked on his. “As far as you want to take me.”

His smile widened, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. “Good.” he said, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him. “I’ll make sure your night is unforgettable.”

With that, he leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that was both possessive and tender. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a blazing path in their wake. He bit at your flesh, each nip sending waves of arousal coursing through you. His hands roamed your body, groping and squeezing in just the right places, his touch both possessive and teasing.

He pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and tugged at the tied straps holding your top up. The material loosened and slid down, exposing your bare chest to him. His gaze filled with desire as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts.

His touch was firm, kneading your breasts in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. You could feel him getting hard beneath you, his bulge pressing insistently against you through his pants and your underwear.

With a wicked smile, he took one of your nipples between his fingers and twisted it harshly, making you gasp at the sudden intense sensation. The pain was sharp but quickly dissolved into pleasure, your body arching into his touch.

Then he slapped your both breasts from underneath, making them bounce, the motion drawing a low moan from your lips. He watched your reaction with a satisfied smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His hands guided you back down onto your knees before him, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You know what to do.” he murmured, his voice a sort of command. His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “Let’s see what can get me higher.” he said as he grabbed the joint, lighting the end of it again.

You reached up to undo his pants, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper. Alex slumped lower onto the sofa, his body relaxing, a cloud of smoke curling around his head as he took another drag. You pulled his pants down, and he helped get them lower by raising his hips, allowing you to slip them down to his ankles. The sight of him sprawled out, so confident and at ease, made your heart race.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you unbuttoned the last couple of buttons holding his shirt together and pushed it to either side, exposing his entire chest. His body was a work of art, lean and muscular, each contour highlighted by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. His abdomen was taut, the muscles rippling slightly as he breathed. There was a slight patch of hair in the middle of his chest, a detail that had driven you crazy ever since you noticed it back at the first pub.

Your eyes travelled lower, taking in the clear shape of his cock through his boxers. He was hard, the outline of his length straining against the material, the sight of it making your mouth water. You reached out, running your fingers along the bulge, feeling the heat and hardness beneath the fabric.

Alex exhaled another plume of smoke, his head leaning back against the sofa, eyes half-closed in anticipation. His body was the perfect picture sensuality in that moment, everything defined and perfectly proportioned. His chest heaved slightly with each breath, and you could see the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, adding to the raw allure of him.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, now heavy-lidded and filled with lust. “Don’t keep me waiting, love.” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

With trembling hands, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down, freeing his cock. It sprang free, hard and throbbing, the sight of it making your breath catch. You looked back up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he gave you a slow, wicked smile.

“Good girl.” he said, his voice a soft purr. “Give me your best.”

You pulled your legs together, seeking some relief from the ache building between them as his words drove you crazy. He noticed, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he continued to smoke, letting you get to work.

Your hands wrapped around his cock, feeling the weight of it in your palms as you began to stroke him. With a gentle tug, you pulled down on his foreskin, revealing the pinkish head, and leaned in to lick right at the slit, savouring the taste of the beads of precum leaking from it.

Taking him deeper into your mouth, you worked your tongue around the tip, circling it while your hands continued to stroke the rest. You kept a slow pace, building the tension and relishing the low groans of pleasure escaping from him.

After a while, you pulled off to spit on his cock, the sight earning a satisfied “Mhmm” from him.

A thought came back to your mind, so you decided to go ahead and ask. “What were you celebrating back there?”

He took a moment to reply, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as your hands still stroked his dick. “That I broke up with my bitch ex-girlfriend.”

Oh. “So, am I your rebound, then?” you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

“Nah. I just thought you looked like a good fuck���no offence.”

You didn’t mind that. Not at all. His blunt honesty only fueled you. You continued licking at him, your eyes locked onto his, the connection between you intensifying. He watched you, the hunger in his gaze making your heart race even faster.

“Want some?” he asked, waving the joint towards you.

You didn’t say anything, letting him guide you. He grabbed your chin, holding your face right where he wanted it, and turned the stick to you, placing it between your lips so you could take a drag. You enjoyed the taste and the sensation as you inhaled, but before you could exhale, he pulled you back onto his cock, shoving it inside your mouth. The smoke escaped through your nostrils and swirled around his shaft, creating a heady, intoxicating mix of sensations.

His grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The smoky haze around you added to the surreal intensity, heightening every touch and taste. Alex’s groans grew louder, his pleasure evident in every sound he made, encouraging you to keep going, to give him everything you had.

You felt his hips start to move, thrusting gently into your mouth, his control slipping as he got lost in the sensation. His hand tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he pushed deeper, his cock filling your mouth completely. You could feel his pulse, strong and insistent, matching the racing beat of your own heart.

Each time he pulled back, you could see the pleasure etched on his face, his eyes dark and focused on you. “That’s enough.” he murmured, his voice rough with need. With a firm grip, he picked you up, your legs on either side of his thighs as he sat you down in his lap. His hands were everywhere, pulling your skirt up over your ass and running his hands all over your exposed skin.

He hooked his fingers around the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. His fingers trailed between your lips, teasing you with light touches before shoving them inside roughly. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, the sound of your juices flowing around his fingers echoing in the quiet room. “Wet,” he said with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, “Perfect.”

Alex removed his fingers completely, lifting you closer to his chest. Your breath hitched as he positioned his cock at your entrance, the head pressing insistently against you. He gave your ass a sharp slap, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure through you, and then another, each one making you tremble with anticipation.

With a single, powerful thrust, he drove himself inside you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your head spin. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness, his breath hot against your neck.

“Ride.” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your ear.

You began to move, at first grinding against him, savouring the way he filled you so deeply. The sensation of him inside you, so hard and thick, sent shivers of pleasure through your body. You could feel every vein on his cock rubbing against your inner walls, each movement delicious and intoxicating. His eyes were locked on you, watching you ride him slowly, too slowly for his patience.

His hands moved to your hips, gripping you tightly. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice strained with need. He began to thrust up into you, hard and fast, each stroke sending shockwaves through you. The intensity built with every movement, his rhythm relentless and demanding.

Your body responded eagerly, your hips rolling to meet his thrusts, the friction igniting a fire within you. Your tits bounced against his chest, your nipples brushing against his skin with every rhythmic movement. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, a mix of raw desire and need.

He was fucking you so hard, his movements almost punishing in their intensity. You kissed him messily, your mouths colliding in a wet, hungry kiss. In the desperation of it, you accidentally bit down on his tongue, not too hard, but enough to draw blood. He didn’t care, the pleasure far outweighing the pain. The metallic taste of his blood mixed with your saliva, a strange but perfect sensation in the heat of the moment.

He groaned into your mouth, the blood and spit mingling and running down both of your faces. His hands tightened on your hips, driving you down onto his cock with even more force, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

Your mind was hazy, lost in the overwhelming sensations and the primal connection between you.

“Fuck, Alex.” you moaned, your voice breathless and needy.

“Come for me.” he growled, his thrusts becoming even more urgent. “I want to feel you come all over my cock, can you do that?”

You nodded, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you. Your body convulsed around him, your cries of pleasure echoing in the room.

“Fuck.” he groaned, but his thrusts didn’t stop. He only slowed the tiniest bit as he got up with you in his arms, his cock still inside you. He stepped out of the trousers pooling at his feet and started walking with you to those huge windows lining the room.

He let you down there, and you couldn’t even stay up on your feet, nearly collapsing as your knees went weak and wobbly. He caught you just in time, his strong arms the only thing keeping you upright.

“Fucking- just turn around and fucking stand up.” he growled, pushing you against the window, your breasts sticking to the cold glass.

The sensation of being so exposed was thrilling. Even though you were high enough that almost no one could see you, there was still that chance. What if someone in a nearby hotel happened to look out at that moment and spotted you?

“Admiring the scenery?” he asked, shoving his dick back inside your cunt and fucking you from behind.

You just nodded, overwhelmed by his speed, your walls growing sore from all the friction. The pressure was intense, a blend of pain and pleasure that kept you on the edge.

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling harshly and making you look up at him as he looked down at you. “Hmm?” he continued.

“Yeah, I love this view.” you managed to gasp out, the words tumbling from your lips.

His eyes darkened with lust, a smirk playing on his lips. “Good.” he murmured, his thrusts never faltering. “Because I plan on fucking you until neither of us can stand.”

The intensity of his words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his movements, sent you spiralling into another wave of pleasure. The cold glass against your chest, the roughness of his grip in your hair, the fullness of his cock inside you. Fuck. All of it melded together and left you breathless.

With each thrust, you could feel him hitting deeper, the angle perfect and unforgiving. His breath was hot against your ear as he growled, “Come for me again, love. You’ve been so good.”

And you did, your body shuddering as another orgasm ripped through you. Your moans filled the room, mingling with his grunts of pleasure. The thrill of being so exposed, the idea that someone might see you in such a raw, vulnerable state, heightened the experience. Alex didn’t stop, his pace relentless, driving him towards his own orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he groaned. His thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping. Each powerful movement sent a sweet, sharp pain through you that left you gasping. “You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice a low, dirty whisper. “You like being fucked like this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” you moaned, the word escaping your lips without thought. “Yes, I love it.”

“Fucking slut.” he hissed, his hand sliding from your hair to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. “Let’s make that little dream of yours from earlier come true then, hmm?”

You knew exactly what he meant, and you couldn’t wait. His words, his touch, the relentless drive of his cock inside you. It was all too much. You could feel another orgasm building already, the intensity of it almost frightening. Alex sensed it too, his movements becoming even more purposeful, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars.

“I’m so good to you, aren’t I?” he urged, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “It’s your turn to make me come, don’t ruin it.”

The command in his voice pushed you over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing around him, your screams muffled against the glass. Alex didn’t stop, riding out your orgasm, his own release imminent.

As he felt himself getting close to the edge he whispered in your ear. “Daddy’s gonna give you a big reward now.”

He pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. He quickly turned you around and pushed you down onto your knees, his grip firm. The urgency in his movements made your heart race with anticipation. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with desire, your tongue out, begging like the obedient whore you were for him in this moment.

The sight of you, so eager and ready, pushed him over the brink. He stroked his cock furiously, his eyes locked onto yours, watching as you waited so prettily for his cum. His breaths came in harsh pants, his muscles tensing as he neared his orgasm.

With a deep, guttural groan, Alex came, his release hitting your face in hot, thick spurts. He grounded himself by extending an arm to the window behind you, his muscles taut and straining as he let go completely, his pleasure evident in every tremor of his body. The sheer intensity of his orgasm left him momentarily breathless, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched his cum paint your skin.

You could feel the warmth of his cum dripping down your cheeks and chin, the scent and taste of him overwhelming your senses. It was filthy and raw, and you loved every second of it. His groans of satisfaction echoed around you, mingling with your own soft moans as you revelled in the feeling of being claimed so completely.

Alex's breathing gradually slowed, and he finally let go of the window, his body relaxing as he came down from his high. He looked at you, a satisfied, possessive glint in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, covered in his cum and looking utterly wrecked.

“Fuck, you look perfect like that.” he murmured, his voice still rough and breathy. He reached down, his fingers brushing gently over your cum-streaked cheek, smearing it further. “Such a good girl.”

You smiled up at him, the thrill of his praise sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. “Thank you.”

He helped you to your feet, pulling you close for a tender, lingering kiss. The contrast between the roughness of moments before and the softness of his kiss now made your head spin.

“Can I clean up?” you asked softly, your voice still a bit shaky.

Alex smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Not yet.” he replied, his tone teasing. “I like seeing you like this. Just a little longer.”

You laughed softly, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and confidence. “Okay.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face gently. “It’s no use anyway,” he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, “Because I'm not done with you yet.”

a/n: i wrote another fic that could be considered a sequel to this, ‘Daddy Came Home’

based on this request

special mention to @thenightslikeawhirlwind for suggesting bald!al for this <3

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird. 

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands. 

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable. 

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents. 

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government. 

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner. 

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense. 

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half. 

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go. 

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion. 

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint. 

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal. 

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist. 

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot. 

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch. 

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares. 

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait. 

For now, this is more than enough.)

[haleth]

The Bachelor: Nargothrond coming soon! (The Bachelor is Túrin. Everyone dies.) Flower meanings under the cut!

Aeglos (I based its appearance off of gorse flowers)- A fictional flower that grows near her grave and has the same name as Gil-Galad's spear (cause who doesn't love a Fin-Galad hc)

Carolina Roses- Love is dangerous (this one feels self evident)

Hemlock- You will be my death (...)

[lucyllawless]

[neverland93]

Peter Pan Imagine/ You like me.

“You son of a bitch!” You yell at Peter as you walk away, but as you walk he grabs your arm and brings you back to him.

“Don’t act like you don’t like this.” He says softly

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” You get defensive.

“You like being controlled, you like me.” He looks deeps in your eyes

You were taken back and could barely think.

“So, I’ll do whatever I want to you, whenever I want, and you’ll let me. Because you want it-“ he says

“No.” You say looking down

“And you need it.” He pulls up your chin with the tip of his finger .

You swallow your dry spit and try to come back to reality.

“So princess, Neverland or no Neverland, I own you. Now, go to your room, strip off whatever dress the fairies made you this week, get into bed, and wait for me. Say yes.” He looks at you

“….Yes.” You say walking away and doing exactly what he says with a smirk creeping through your lips.

[cathloves]

I love how captain swan met don't get me wrong but they really missed a trick not having hook be in storybrooke with them. He could've been cursed or even playing the long game waiting for the curse to be over so that rumple knew exactly who he was when he goes to kill him. Imagine rumple and Killian both failing to realise that the other isn't cursed. Imagine Killian meeting Emma when she comes to town and knows she's the one who breaks the curse. Imagine him first helping Henry make emma believe because he wants the curse breaking for selfish reasons but then begins to fall for her. Imagine at the pilot episode we see the clock tick and Killian looking up at the end of the episode and saying 'tick tock'. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES.

(The fact that they didn't have the rights to Peter pan and the captain hook character until season 2 and that they wanted him in season 1 knowing all along they wanted him to be a love interest for Emma actually kills me. But we might not have gotten Colin 😭)

[grtmnick]

In a voice that probably held more desperation than Regina would have preferred to show, she asked, “Can we please not discuss this while we’re in the middle of the town’s square?”

“But what were those noises I heard from your room last night?” Henry earnestly requested of his mothers.

“You heard your mom kid,” Emma interjected, “Besides, we were just wrestling anyways.”

A look of absolute mortification twisted Regina’s face. She brought her coffee towards her lips, trying and failing to stifle an audible groan.

[a-collection-of-cool-ideas]

Thank you wonderful fanfiction authors! You do a great part to make life wonderful. Recs below the cut (I CANNOT believe I haven't rec'ed some of these before!) Previous recs: 2018, 2020, 2022. Looks like I only do these every two years lol.

Gravity Falls

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; complete multichapter. A heartbreaking concept with a happy ending. Sad but wonderful and a really fun idea. Working out just what is happening is a great challenge, and watching the pieces fall into place with mounting consternation is awesome.

In Search of Antidotes, by @astriiformes / azhdarchidaen; complete multichapter. An awesome Historical AU, and neither Ford nor Stan go through the portal (there’s still suffering though). Bit of freakiness, bit of funniness, bit of stubbornness, bit of coolness. A very cool read! A much more classic demon-possession story than canon with its modern sci-fi overtones. The gothic sci-fi horror takes the floor here. Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein, Dracula, it takes inspiration from all the best roots!

Just a Game, by @nikxation / nikxation; one-shot. Intense! High stakes! Well-written! Doesn’t mess around getting to the point, and hammers its beats into you! LOVE it! Bill holds a gun on Ford, while in Ford's own body. The tension in this is unbelievable!

An Outreached Hand, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete multichapter. Something freakishly supernatural happened to Stan during his homeless days. It’s called Ghost Trick AU, and it’s super interesting and utterly engaging! It’ll have you tearing through it wanting to know what the heck is going on! The characters are all so intense in their own ways, and the plot is drip fed to you piece by delicious piece.

Snapshots from an Alternate Reality, by Rethira; one-shot. PORTAL STAN!! Just a short little one-shot about this alternate version of events, but incredibly cool to read. Love the writing style: it takes you through the scenes like a skipping stone, its wake mesmerising.

All Things Go, by @cantica10 / Cantica10; incomplete multichapter. A weird (in the best way) idea of a crossover between Timestuck AU (where Mabel is trapped in the past) and a Wings AU (where, you guessed it, everyone has wings). Adorable Stan and Mabel bonding, but is SO not afraid to get really dark. That being said, it’s also so sweet and fluffy, and explores the effortless love that Mabel feels for Stan, and that (broken, scared, young, sad) Stan feels for her. This is one of those fics I am compelled to keep coming back to. It’s such a full experience to read.

Snow and Pine, by @ancientstone / TheArchaeologist; incomplete series. A great concept!! Loved the idea of these two brothers being forced together by circumstances instead of intention. Some great selective description here, and the plot itself is a very fun ride. WERE. WOLF. STAN. Need I say more?

Lighthouse Keeper, by @impishnature / impish_nature; incomplete series. There’s a lot to this story; the main work is mostly a series of one-shots, with other works sprinkled between. The idea is so eerie and haunting, and the vibes are pretty different to most other things I’ve read. The instigating artwork by @sightkeeper is magnificent and Imp has managed to capture the images very well!

Triptych, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; one-shot. A very cool character study on Stan. Great for informing his central motivations. It's kept short and sweet, but the analysis is no less thorough for it. I loved the insight into my favourite character's life and mind. Scribe writes him so well.

Blind Faith, by pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. Come on, how could I NOT mention this one? It's one of the many here I'm astonished not to have rec'ed earlier. Super dark, super scary, an AU where both Stan and Ford fall into the portal. Ouch, but cool. Really good, but be prepared to yell out loud in horror. This is a doozy, don’t expect a lot of happy feels going into it. That being said, it is INCREDIBLE. The structure of the story is fantastic, perfectly encapsulating the reliance each of the brothers’ needs to have on the other and how one has to step up when the other can’t. Stan and Ford are forcibly tied together in this, and they find they each mean more to the other than expected after ten years of bitterness and radio silence. A STAPLE of Gravity Falls fics.

Like They Were a Perfect Fit, by @sensitiveowl / hapful; one-shot. Aw, ow, cries. Love! Lots of tangled-up emotions and scenes that will tug at your heartstrings thinking about Ford’s life journey. Speculations on the importance of the photo that Ford is implied to have carried around with him for 30 damn years.

30 Seconds Later, by @invisibletinkerer / shayera; incomplete multichapter. Loved this to death! A really great concept executed fantastically. An AU where while it took Stan thirty years to rebuild the portal, Ford was only gone for thirty seconds. The characterisation of paranoid Ford and his interactions with the rest of his family are perfect, as is his reaction to finding himself in the future and his relationship to Stan. And Stan is wonderful in this too! A very good examination of age, aging, and the associated changes in perspective.

1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back, by @infriga / Ppleater; complete multichapter. An AU where Stan is turned into a kid in the midst of Ford’s pre-portal paranoia over Bill. It adopts the wonder and innocence that comes with youth, but still retains the darkness of Stan’s adulthood - wait, actually, his entire life has been kinda dark in this fic. This is one of those fics you can tell the author had a lot of fun with. It’s palpable in the chapter titles and the art :) The illustrations are beautiful, the story is heartfelt, and it is not at all afraid to go into some dark places. A very enjoyable, loveable, read!

The Road in Front of You, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; complete multichapter. Ford falls through a portal potty and gets dumped in Stan's path. MAN!!! This fic has a really great concept, and Nicnac’s writing is impeccable as always. A great look at Ford and Stan’s relationship post-high school, how their personalities have developed and changed, and most importantly how they reconcile the changes in each other.

Nothing a Little Sleep Can’t Fix, by AkitaFallow; one-shot. Oh MAN. WOW. Okay. A heavier look on the mark Sock Opera leaves on Dipper, featuring repercussions throughout the rest of Dipper’s summer. Absolutely, heartbreakingly, entrancing. The slow build up of the plot perfectly mimics the rising emotions that poor Dipper is struggling to keep a lid on until they inevitably explode, and watching the people who love him pick up his pieces afterwards is just golden.

Ad Infinitum, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; one-shot. My first read of the Same Coin Theory and it was awesooooooooome!!! There are so many repetitions of phrases that spark in my mind because of how great they were, and the aspects of Stan contrasted with Bill that thread through it are incredible. Kind of an unsettling concept. I couldn’t get enough. For a fic that’s all about cycling around, you'd think it'd get repetitive, but every paragraph is rich with novelty. A FEAST.

Some Sunny Day, by @anistarrose / anistarrose; complete multichapter. Another Same Coin Theory fic. The beats of the plot in this are stunning, with some truly awesome lines that left me reeling and thinking Oh SHIT that did NOT just happen!!! In the best way possible. A highly interesting story and some excellent takes on the Pines family and the world of Gravity Falls.

Towards the Sun, by @notthistimespock and pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Incredible! Love the in-depth examination and speculation on Ford and Stan prefinale. A different ending for Weirdmageddon, following Ford’s journey through Stan’s mind. It gets sad, it gets scary, it gets freaky, you shed tears. Another one of those staple fics for the fandom. The story is a wild and heartrending adventure, full of imagery that stuck in my brain for years after the first time I read it.

Fisherman’s Knot, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; complete multichapter. MORE EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Deals with postcanon adventures on the Stan’O’War II, including some reeeaaaally bad mental states/situations. Have tissues handy. I think this is generally regarded as the be-all-and-end-all of Stan twin angst. It is long, it is HEAVY, but it is also heartwarming and hopeful, and full of adventure and magic, and the kind of love it's made with really comes through.

Mob Boss Stan Pines, by Capricious_Passions; complete multichapter. A fic that you HAVE to read over again to get the complete picture. Complex and well-thought out, incredible attention to detail, but the first read will baffle you! A lot of fun trying to figure out what’s happening, and even more fun on the re-read picking up all the details you missed the first time!

Scrapbook, by Shyeye; complete multichapter. The complicated weight of grief hangs heavy over everyone in the story, and the difficulties in dealing with it are at the forefront of everyone’s minds. The depth each of these characters are written with is very much appreciated, not-so-pretty parts and all. This was a wonderful, touching, read.

Rescind, Reset, by @endae / endae; one-shot. Canon divergence where Mabel temporarily lost her life during Weirdmageddon, and the aftereffects on her and the rest of the family. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read, very emotionally raw. I cry every time. This incredible story is wrought with a filter of broken hearts being pieced back together as the characters live through the aftermath of their happy ending. It’s a shining, nuanced take on Mabel and how someone with her personality deals with the plot premise. I love the complexity of the emotions in this, not only from Mabel but also from the rest of the Pines as they work through their own traumas.

Safe as Houses, by @beastenraged / Beastrage; complete multichapter. If I could whistle I would! An entrancing read about the Pines family’s adventures from the perspective of their home. Some great and not too far-fetched ideas about how the Shack may have come across to its inhabitants over the years.

Greyscale, by @impishnature / impish_nature; one-shot. OH MY LORD. Incredibly touching and heartbreaking, I can’t look at this directly for fear of being emotionally blinded. Loss, and gain, and loss. Striking, powerful, so, so beautiful and painful. The aftermath of Weirdmageddon: another canon divergence where Stan lost his life. Except... Reverse Portal AU Stan stumbles across this sad dimension soon after. I swear, no fic has made me cry so hard and left me so much in shock of what the heck just happened to me. I love the look at how loss has affected the characters, and I especially love the path to recovery that is laid out for them.

Buying Gold, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete series. Veeeery intriguing. It’s not really Same Coin Theory, but it’s a great read about the similarities between Stan and Bill and some cool speculation on Stan post-defeating Bill.

Any Family You Choose, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; incomplete multichapter. So sweet! Portal Dipper finds a young Stan Pines and decides to help him out. This concept is so wonderful, and the characterisation is blindingly clear. Keeps you guessing at the backstory!

Across the Universe, by Queen_Mab; one-shot. SUCH a great set of adventures. The multiverse really tries to hammer in its lessons sometimes, whether they stand a chance of sticking or not. Extremely well-written and fun, I devoured every word ravenously. Some scenes of Ford's portal time, with some VERY interesting encounters.

Star Wars

Anything Brighter than Even the Sun, by @hamliet / Hamliet; complete multichapter. The Rogue One crew survives and continues rebelling, as does Galen! The main focus is on Jyn and Cassian's characters and relationship, and how they navigate growing into a family. I love Jyn's character especially in this, with all those hard edges guarding a deep, deep well of passion.

Chirality, by @niobiumao3 / Niobium; complete multichapter. A Tech was CX-2 fic! It's great to see this fan theory explored, and Niobium writes so well! The plot is entrancing and has you hooked on the edge of your seat waiting for all the pieces to fall into place for our poor brainwashed guy. The way CX-2 thinks and melds with the personality of who Tech once was is beautiful and his interactions with his family and Phee are a sight to behold.

Crash Landing by @returnofahsoka / delightwrites; complete multichapter. Another Tech is CX-2 fic, can you tell this idea has a hold of me. The characters' voices in this come through SO clearly, it's insane, and the writing style is perfection. Jumbled and pained and confused and grieving, all threaded through with that little bit of hope. Wonderful.

I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong), by @miadeardn / sheikahs; oneshot. An AU where Crosshair's chip never activates and he is as embroiled in adjusting to being on the run with a new little sister as the rest of the Batch. Just a sweet little moment between the two. Both of them are written very in-character, and it's great seeing a side of Crosshair that never came to regard his brothers as his enemies.

Talking in Defence, by @buskuta / buskuta; oneshot. An awesome look at all of Hunter's complicated feelings regarding Omega and Crosshair's relationship post-Tantiss. He's not a paragon of perfection, he's human. I can't emphasise enough how much I love this and how well he's written here.

Unyielding, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. The scene immediately post-reunion between Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker, with some speculation on Crosshair's internal strife at that moment. There's a chapter for each of the remaining Batch and Wrecker's is EXCEEDINGLY well-written in my opinion. We don't get nearly enough exploration in canon or fanon about the depth of his thoughts and feelings.

Plan 100, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. An awesome canon-divergence speculating on Omega and Crosshair's escape from Tantiss. The action is great, the strategy and coded communication is so sharp, and the feeling of desperation as Omega and Crosshair fight to evade recapture is fantastically taut. I especially love the small moments in this showing just how close these two have grown, and, in Crosshair's case, how little he's realised it happening. It feels very true to their characters.

Through Darkness Unknown, by @stardustandash / StardustAndAsh; complete multichapter. Holy shit the stakes are so high in this. A Tech Lives canon divergence of Omega and Crosshair's stay in Tantiss, and you can really FEEL just how helpless they all are to Hemlock's control. I absolutely love how this fic does not pull its punches, really forcing Crosshair and Omega into relying heavily on each other. There's so many great scenes in this that are seared into my brain!!

Ask Yourself, by StoneSage; complete multichapter. Omega is captured by the Empire while Crosshair's still working for them. I freaking love the complicated messiness of Crosshair's response to this- he's constantly challenged to act on the callous persona he projects, and constantly comes up short realising what he's actually willing to do to his family when it comes down to it. Very true to his character, and the quandaries Rampart presents him with a subtly terrifying. A fantastic examination of character and a great plot to go with it.

The Space in Between, by Misvet; incomplete multichapter. A series of stories focusing on the complications and dangers involved with Omega joining the Bad Batch. The writing style is great, the plots are great, the characters are great! It's all great! Just read it!

Maybe Fate Has Different Plans, by hanged_albatross; complete series. God I love this so much. Some incredibly touching and well-written moments of the Bad Batch protecting each other in a dangerous galaxy, with Omega, of course, at the centre. She is characterised so well in this, and constantly written with the idea of despite being so young, she is also no less protective of her brothers than they are of her.

Modern Batch, by kaydear; incomplete series. DUUUUDES just read this. It's such a sweet collection of stories about an alternate universe of the Bad Batch in a contemporary setting. Life is tough and complicated and full of pain, but also there are others right beside you to lean on when you need it, and so life is also full of love. I have cried multiple times while reading and re-reading this.

Skulduggery Pleasant

I Will Lay Me Down, by mcginnis; oneshot. This is perfection. A rewrite of the aftermath of the Lord Vile reveal in Death Bringer. I wish this was canon. Valkyrie and Skulduggery are PERFECTLY characterised in this scene, and the nitty-gritty of how they're both feeling is thoroughly explored and explained, and the tone of the story never once diverges from canon's- it is complicated, dark, and interspersed with ridiculous levity.

Pride and Prejudice

A New Addition, by @ralkana / Ralkana; oneshot. A great fic about Elizabeth and Darcy and childbirth, various moments in this are imprinted in my mind permanently. High emotions all over the place, incredible tension and wonderful dynamics between the two main characters and the rest of the family.

Mr Bennet Travels Through Time, by AMarguerite; oneshot. A truly great fic with a wild concept that totally works. Mr Bennet is actually from the 1990s. Weird and funny, but also touching and sad, and goes leagues towards explaining a lot of this man's quirks and contradictions. I was fully invested in this all the way through reading, and it did not disappoint. Utterly satisfying.

Once Upon a Time

The Worst, by @alchemistc / alchemistique; oneshot. The real-life dynamics of these ridiculous fairytale people had me grinning ear to ear. The mortifying ordeal of your family of fictitious characters helping you move into your college dorm as told from Henry's perspective. Love it to death.

[frenchpuppycormier]

So I have a fun idea for a SQ fic, but Idek if people still write/read stuff for them anymore soooo is it worth it?? Ideally I know you should write for yourself and who cares if other people see it but like….I want some people to read and enjoy my stuff, y’know.

Anyway, who here would read my fic?

[hana-no-seiiki]

sorn from bg3 (the male prostitute drow) is such a mood cause like people always get flustered whenever i use nicknames on them (like baby/sweetheart/etc). i’ve been called all the petnames too (my current favorite being cloudhead/mooncake atm) and those that i date often tell me that it makes their heart stutter when i use those

but on the other hand i get so unbelievably and irrationally flustered n shy when people who don’t usually call me by my name just use ‘yun’ like smiling and butterflies and all augh

and my friends keep calling me out saying i act like a horny/fetishizing/problematic teenager despite having the vanilla fantasies of a victorian woman

SO I WAS THINKING

QUICK YANDERE SOFT PRETTY BOI SEX WORKER BRAINROT??

could be a camboy, host club worker, pornstar, etc. your choice and imagination

Like ya boi who’s whole job it is to fulfill the most depraved fantasies imaginable. Who lived almost his whole life doing all sorts of kinks and fetishes

but absolutely crumbles when you ask him to have sex with him in the missionary position and maybe even the lights off

like he’ll join massive orgies no problem. host/strip for celebrities like it’s no business

but when you ask if you can hold his hand while you two make love. or kiss him gently with all the love in your eyes

he just

he just ceases to function.

you aren’t a regular of his, as much as he hates that fact. but everytime you schedule a meeting with him, he just has this dopey smile on his face and he’ll often uncontrollably giggle and squeal when you hit him up.

he has some pretty rich and dangerous clients

so sometimes he may or may not drug you when you visit him sometimes.

i mean you can’t blame him if your legs are too weak the next morning (or afternoon/evening, this man has stamina) or if you only wanted to have a nice chit chat but suddenly that pink sweater you bought him started to look really nice especially with his even prettier legs exposed like that.

opens up an exclusive rent-a-boyfriend offer but in actuality it’s just you in that list

overall a menace

you know how some of my readers uses yan harem to beat the yan harem

he definitely uses his fans/clients to keep you leashed

besides, no one else can serve you like he can, so might as well stay for some more hm?

[crime-wives]

Send Up a Signal (that everything's fine)

by @coalitiongirl

[goblinontour]

Paint You With My Love

it’s not a life sentence but a death dream

series masterlist

warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst (maybe), smut, piv, public(ish) sex

word count: 10k

London to Paris, 2022

The quiet of the room was suffocating, the only sounds being his deep, even breaths as he slept soundly next to you. Meanwhile, your heart was racing. Tomorrow was hanging over you like a storm cloud, and you were terrified. You didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of him leaving, of possibly losing what you had, was gnawing at your insides.

It was the last day before he had to leave for tour, and as much as you tried to push away the fear gnawing at the edges of your mind, it lingered. For the past few weeks, everything with him had felt almost perfect. He was so present, so different. Like living in some fairytale he’d wrapped the two of you in, where time didn’t exist, where all that mattered was the two of you, making you feel like nothing could break this bubble. But the more perfect it seemed, the more you doubted it. You couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was too good to be true. Was this just temporary for him? Was it his way of clinging to something real before he had to leave again? The uncertainty clawed at you. You hated it. God, you hated it. And you hated yourself for doubting him. If he knew what you were thinking, it would shatter him, wouldn’t it?

You turned to your side, lying on the bed fully now. You glanced over at him, watching him sleep beside you. His face, half-buried in the pillow, was peaceful, his hair a mess of dark waves. It was soft and messy. He hadn’t cut it since he arrived. He used to keep it neat, almost as if his life needed that kind of control. But now it seemed like he was letting go, loosening his grip on some part of himself. He hadn’t mentioned cutting it, and part of you wondered if it had become some kind of symbolic thing for him, like letting go of his hair was tied to letting go of something bigger. Maybe cutting it again would mean something was ending, and he didn’t want to risk that. He had mused, almost superstitiously, that maybe cutting his hair would change something. Risk whatever magic had bloomed between you both.

You were wide awake, the clock ticking closer to dawn. He’d insisted on taking you on one last date before he left, something special. You hadn’t expected it to mean catching the first train to Paris, but that’s exactly what he’d planned. “So we don’t waste time.” he’d said with a playful grin. And how could you say no? He was so damn earnest about it, so certain that you needed to squeeze every last second out of this day together. But the anxiety inside you was growing, because after today, he’d be gone. The future felt like a foggy, uncertain thing, and you couldn’t bear the thought of waking up tomorrow without him next to you.

You shifted in bed, trying not to wake him, but of course, he noticed. He always noticed. 

“Mhmm…go to sleep, baby.” he murmured, voice muffled against the pillow, his face still buried in its soft folds. His arm reached out, sheepishly searching for you, a quiet, sleepy sound of effort escaping him as he stretched. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him with a lazy, half-conscious urgency. His body was warm, comfortable in the quiet of the late night.

“I can’t sleep.” you whispered, turning to face him. You rested your hands under your cheek, watching him through the dim light. His eyes were still closed, his brow furrowed in the slightest bit of frustration, clearly not ready to lose the precious sleep he had left. He tightened his arm around you a little more.

He murmured something, his voice muffled and still thick with sleep. He didn’t even open his eyes, his face smushed into the pillow. “You have to.” he mumbled, voice heavy with drowsiness. You couldn’t help but smile, though the weight of tomorrow still hung over you. How could he be so calm? So peaceful? 

“Please.” His fingers brushed your side, a soft plea in his touch. He made a small sound of complaint, not wanting to fully wake up but not wanting to lose this moment either. “Please…” he added again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing his hair away from his face. You could see the faint twitch in his eyes from how the strands tickled his lashes. 

“Hug me back.” he whispered, his tone more vulnerable than you expected. 

You did. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly, and he nestled into you like he never wanted to let go. You felt his breath slow as he relaxed into you. He was so different now. So much softer. Smaller, in a way. 

You couldn’t remember when this shift had happened, but there it was. You remembered when his presence used to feel so much larger than life. The man who once held you with such intensity, with arms that could crush you, now felt fragile in your embrace. His body fit perfectly against yours, no longer the overwhelming force you had once known, but something smaller, more tender. Like he needed you to hold him just as much as you needed him.

Time ticked by slowly, but you stayed awake, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. Your fingers traced his back, and for a moment, it felt like everything would be okay. But you couldn’t help but wonder if this tenderness would last after tomorrow. The fear lingered, unspoken between the two of you. Could you trust this? Could you trust him? He had said it so casually, “No time to waste.” But you knew there was more behind those words. Neither of you wanted to waste the time you had left.

His breathing evened out again as he drifted back into sleep, his arm still draped over your waist, pulling you close. You closed your eyes, trying to will yourself to sleep too, but it didn’t come. Not tonight.

The shrill sound of the alarm yanked you out of your spiralling thoughts. 3:50 AM. You hadn’t even realised how long you’d been lying there, wide awake. You didn’t feel relief. More like resignation. You hadn’t been bored, just anxious, waiting for this very moment.

“Uhhh…” he groaned, shifting, not to silence the alarm, but to push himself closer into your chest, his head nuzzling against you. “Turn it off.” he mumbled, voice muffled by your skin.

“Okay.” you replied, trying to stretch over him, but he wasn’t making it easy, refusing to move enough for you to reach. You barely managed to hit the snooze button, and just as you did, he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. His arms wrapped around you like a second skin, holding you so tight it felt like he was trying to keep you from slipping away.

He didn’t let go. He held you there, chest to chest, warmth seeping through the tension you felt building inside. His hands scratched softly at your back, lazy but comforting, and for a second, you almost forgot the knot in your stomach.

“Are you okay?” he asked, the grogginess in his voice replaced by concern. His grip tightened a little, his eyes still heavy but more focused now, searching your face.

“Why?” you whispered, trying to sound casual, but failing.

“You didn’t sleep.” he said simply, his hands still trailing along your back.

“I did.” you lied. “A little.”

“No, you didn’t.” he said, his voice firmer this time. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, your face pressed against the warmth of his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat making you wish you could stay like this forever. You didn’t want to say it, to admit what was eating away at you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The words came out before you could hold them back.

“I just don’t want you to leave.” you murmured, your voice quieter than you intended. Not just the tour, not just for a few weeks. It was the idea of him leaving. “Leave leave.”

He shifted slightly, pushing your hair out of your face, his fingers threading gently through it. His legs stretched beneath you, and he pulled you back enough to look into your eyes. “I have to leave.” 

“I know.” you said quickly, feeling your throat tighten. He had to go. There was no changing that.

“But I’m staying staying.” he added, a hint of a smile on his lips as he brushed your hair back again. His fingers traced along your temple. “I promise.” 

The warmth of his hands on your skin, the way he looked at you, like he meant every word, made it a little easier to breathe, if only for a moment.

He kissed you, slowly, his lips warm and soft against yours. Just as he was starting to sink into the moment, the alarm rang again. “Shut up.” he groaned, fumbling to silence it without breaking the kiss. His fingers grazed the screen until the noise stopped, and he pressed his lips back to yours for a few more seconds before pulling away.

“We gotta get ready.” he murmured, smiling against your mouth.

“I know.” you replied.

“We’re going to Paris.” he added, his smile growing.

“Yeah.” you said, unable to resist smiling back.

You both climbed out of bed reluctantly, the comfort of your shared warmth replaced by the chilly air of early morning. He started darting around the room, jittery and flustered, trying to gather everything he needed for the day. He grabbed his bag and began tossing things in haphazardly. He should’ve probably taken care of that the night before. 

“What do you need, baby?” you asked, watching him in amusement as he scrambled.

“My film.” he mumbled distractedly, already halfway down the stairs.

“Your what?” you called after him, unable to hear him clearly.

“MY FILM!” he yelled again, his voice echoing from downstairs.

You followed him, trailing behind as he rummaged through drawers and shelves. “FOUND IT!” he shouted triumphantly, unaware that you were standing right behind him.

You laughed softly. “So what, you got into photography while you were busy ignoring me?” It came out with more edge than you meant, but it hung in the air regardless.

He paused for a second and his smile faltered, a shadow passing over his face. “I wasn’t ignoring you…” he said quietly, the words hanging between you. He shifted uncomfortably but added, “Film. I got into film.” He changed the subject before the conversation could go any deeper.

It was a sensitive subject. Two years of distance, and no real explanation. It was the closest either of you had come to addressing the gap in time when things between you were, well, not quite right. If they were ever right. 

Sensing the shift in mood, you changed the topic. “Film?” you asked. “Fine arts, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I’m diving into all the fine arts now.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at how endearing he looked. Nervous, excited, and messy all at once. “Of course you are.” you teased, watching as he stuffed the film into his bag, his energy infectious.

He turned you around swiftly, giving your ass a playful slap, smirking with that grin. “Go get dressed.” he ordered, the laughter in his voice unmistakable.

You crossed your arms and raised a brow. “What about you?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming…in a sec.” he muttered, already distracted. You could tell he was still looking for something. He had realised between finding his film and now that he needed batteries, but he didn’t dare admit it out loud, knowing you’d absolutely roast him for being so forgetful. It was adorable, honestly, how scattered he could get, even though the day was supposed to be meticulously planned out. As you went to change, you could still hear him shuffling around downstairs, mumbling under his breath. 

Once you were dressed and ready, you walked downstairs, fully prepared for more delays, but to your surprise, he was by the door. He was fiddling with the strap of his bag, clearly satisfied with his choice of shoes. “Finally settled on those, huh?”

“I don’t want my feet to hurt.” he said, defensive but soft, glancing at you with a small grin as if that explained everything.

“Baby, baby, baby.” you teased, reaching for the keys he was holding. “Let’s go.”

Of course, you were late, running just a few minutes behind schedule. He always managed to make things take longer with his indecision, but you couldn’t really be mad about it, especially with how excited he was. As you both piled into the waiting car, you caught his excitement. 

He checked his phone, reading off the itinerary for the day. “We’ll get to Paris just after sunrise, have coffee at this little place I found…Then we’ll walk by the Seine, maybe visit a gallery or two. I’ve got my camera, so…”

When you finally pulled up to the train station, you noticed how jittery he was, practically bouncing on his feet. “Are you always like this before a trip?”

“No, not always.” he replied, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the entrance, “Just…when it’s with you.” 

There was something in the way he said it that made your stomach flutter, the moment charged with more than just excitement for Paris. He was trying, in his own way, to show you that this meant something. That he wanted more, not just this day or this trip. 

Hand-in-hand, the two of you rushed to catch the train, both of you smiling. No traffic, no more delays, just the two of you, heading to Paris. 

You both settled into your seats, and something about the motion of the train made it feel like the world was just the two of you, even in the quiet hustle around you. He was calmer now, but you could still feel a little tension radiating from him. He wasn’t trying to be low-key in the “don’t recognize me” way, but more in the sense of not wanting to disturb the people around him. That nervous energy was still part of him.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close enough to feel his warmth seeping through your body, his hand rubbing gently at your shoulder. “Try and get some sleep, yeah?” he whispered, nudging you just enough for your head to rest against his shoulder.

You hadn’t thought sleep was possible, not with everything on your mind, but something about his presence was calming. Maybe it was the warmth, or maybe just the fact that he was holding you. Maybe you were just too tired. Whatever it was, it wasn’t so hard to close your eyes anymore. In just a few minutes, you melted into him, your body softening against his as exhaustion won over.

Feeling you relax, he quietly pulled out his earbuds, settling into his own head for a while, letting some music fill the space. His thumb traced small circles on your side absentmindedly, grounding himself in the simple reality of having you so close. His thoughts, however, drifted elsewhere. Away to the time he’d have to spend without you, the distance that would separate you soon. It made his chest feel tight. He hated this part, the missing you before he’d even left. He’d felt it before, many times, but now it was even worse because it was rightful for him to feel like that. He had you. 

He glanced down at you, your face nestled into his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck. He couldn’t help the small, bittersweet smile that tugged at his lips. “You okay?” he whispered, not expecting an answer, knowing you were already asleep. His words were more for himself, as if asking you would somehow quiet his own worry. He shifted slightly, pulling you closer still, and rested his chin on top of your head.

For a few moments, he just held you like that, his heart thudding slowly in his chest. The music was nothing more than background noise now, his thoughts louder. “I’m gonna miss you.” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the train. He exhaled deeply, leaning his head back against the seat. He wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet. 

A few minutes later, you stirred slightly in his arms, your body shifting just enough to press closer to him. Your hand grazed his stomach lightly, your touch enough to make his breath hitch. He smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before leaning back again.

He tried to focus on the present, to appreciate these moments with you before everything changed for a while. But it wasn’t easy. He’d already started counting the days in his mind, anticipating how much he’d miss holding you like this, waking up next to you, sharing these quiet moments. He sighed softly, running his hand gently down your back. He’d miss everything.

He didn’t know when he’d dozed off, but the slow halt of the train woke him. As the realisation hit him that you’d arrived, he cursed himself for falling asleep. He could’ve spent that time with you, watching your face as you rested. But instead, he’d wasted precious minutes. Still, the scent of you lingered on his coat, and he smiled softly at that. 

He glanced down at you, still tucked into his side, your cheek pressed against his chest. The peaceful rise and fall of your breathing made him pause for a moment, reluctant to wake you. He ran his hand gently over your back before leaning down and whispering, “Hey, we’re here.”

You didn’t move at first, just stirred slightly, your face scrunching up as you tried to stay in the warmth of sleep. He kissed the top of your head, chuckling softly. “Come on, sleepyhead.” he coaxed. “We’re in Paris.”

Your eyes blinked open groggily, unfocused at first. “Already?” you murmured, still half-asleep, your voice muffled against him.

“Yeah, already.” he replied, smiling down at you. “Come on, let’s get moving before they kick us off the train.” He gently moved out from under you and stood, stretching with a low groan. Grabbing his bag from the overhead compartment, he offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Ugh, I hate waking up like this.” you grumbled, running a hand through your hair.

“I know, I know.” he teased, pulling his coat tighter around himself as you stepped off the train. “But look. It’s waiting for us.”

The cool morning air hit both of you, making you shiver slightly, but he pulled you into his side again, rubbing your shoulder with one hand. His other hand fidgeted nervously with the strap of his bag, but his gaze kept drifting back to you, as if to reassure himself you were still there, that he wasn’t dreaming.

“You look perfect.” he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and there was something in the way he said it. “Paris still suits you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, both at the compliment and the implication of the last time you were here together. “I probably look like I just rolled out of bed.”

“You did.” he smirked, his hand slipping to your waist as you started walking toward the exit. “And still, you’re perfect.”

He was quieter than usual, his movements more deliberate as you walked. It wasn’t the typical anxiety that sometimes made him jittery in public places. No, this was different. He was savouring the quiet between you, soaking in the last few moments he had before leaving. He didn’t want to rush, didn’t want to waste even a second of this last day with you.

As you made your way through the station, he stopped at a small kiosk to grab some coffee, handing you a cup with a smile. “One last sunrise with you for a while.” he said softly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to memorise every detail.

The reality of him leaving hadn’t fully set in yet, not for you. But for him, every minute felt like a countdown. Every touch, every glance. It all mattered. You were his tether. 

The warmth from the cup seeped into your fingers as you brought it closer. His words made you smile. “I think this is probably our first sunrise together.” you said. “You always sleep in late.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s true. But I like this. I like seeing it with you.”

You both walked through the station, your breath visible in the cold air. He fumbled with his phone, squinting at the screen as he tried to figure out the map. “I swear I saved this café…” he muttered, zooming in and out on the app.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” you teased, taking a sip from your coffee.

He grinned sheepishly, still focused on the map. “Of course, I do. Just…give me a sec.”

After a few minutes of wandering, you finally reached the café. It was a small, cosy spot tucked away on a quiet street. The smell of fresh bread and coffee wafted out as you stepped inside. He approached the counter, confidently rattling off, “Deux cafés, s’il vous plaît.” with his somewhat stilted but earnest attempt at French.

“Just coffee?” you whispered, a smirk tugging at your lips.

He shrugged, leaning closer to you. “I panicked. Never enough caffeine anyways.”

You chuckled, settling into a small table outside, right by the window. He placed the coffees on the table and sat across from you.

“So, do I get points for trying?” he asked, stirring his coffee and watching you over the rim of his cup.

“You get points for effort.” you teased. “Your accent still needs work, though.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, but at least I didn’t ask for something weird. Like, I don’t know, a baguette in a cup.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head slightly. “You’ll get there eventually.”

His gaze softened as he looked at you. “I’m just glad we’re here. Together. Even if it’s just…this.”

He plucked a cigarette from the pack, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. You watched as he inhaled deeply, the smoke curling from his lips. 

“Can I have a drag?” you asked casually.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You don’t smoke.”

You shrugged with a grin. “We’re in Paris. Gotta get with the people.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, Parisian lady.” he leaned over the small table, holding the cigarette out to you. His fingers brushed your lips as you wrapped them around the filter. The moment felt strangely intimate, like something out of an old film. He watched, eyes flicking from your mouth to the way your cheeks hollowed slightly as you took in the smoke. He swallowed hard, a blush creeping up his neck.

You exhaled slowly, watching his expression. “Don’t blush now, it’s too cute.”

“Shut up.” he mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment. He took the cigarette back, leaning back in his chair. “I just didn’t expect you to smoke. Ever.”

“I don’t.” you said with a laugh. “But…when in Rome. Or Paris, I guess.”

He blew out a cloud of smoke, smirking. “Next thing you know, you’ll be drinking wine with breakfast.”

“Maybe.” you teased. “How else am I supposed to fully embrace the experience?”

His eyes softened, watching you, as he absentmindedly tapped the ash off the cigarette. 

“You know we’ve smoked together before.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee.

He squinted, tilting his head. “When?”

“A couple of times.” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“That was weed.” he said with a dismissive wave. “Not the same.”

“It’s still smoking.” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Nuh uh.” he shook his head, lips quirking up into a grin. “Doesn’t count.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Alright, fine, weed doesn’t count. But technically, I still smoked.”

He watched you, and the memory of earlier lingered in his mind. His fingers fumbled with the cigarette between them, and suddenly, he felt the urge to say it. Now or never. 

“I was ignoring you.” he blurted out, voice softer than usual. “I lied earlier.”

You looked at him, surprised. “What?”

He exhaled, rubbing the top of his coffee cup in slow circles. “The last couple of years…I was trying to ignore you. I wasn’t ready for this-” he motioned between you two, “and I didn’t want to hurt you more…so cutting you off…”

His words hung between you, fragile and loaded. He continued, eyes dropping to the smoke curling from his cigarette. “It wasn’t fair. I just- every time I thought about you, I knew it wasn’t casual anymore, and I panicked. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You sat there, taking it in, your expression shifting, but you didn’t interrupt him. His thumb rubbed the side of the coffee cup again. “I thought staying away was better, that maybe you’d move on, maybe it wouldn’t matter as much. But…” He sighed, eyes flickering up to meet yours, filled with regret. “It mattered to me.”

His confession lingered in the air, heavy and vulnerable, the kind of weight you couldn’t just shake off. You weren’t sure how to respond, not immediately. His words had come out like a dam finally breaking, spilling out all at once, leaving both of you exposed. 

“Why are you telling me this now?” you asked, your voice steady but laced with the confusion you felt. His eyes, usually so guarded, were wide open now, filled with something like regret. Or maybe it was fear. It was hard to tell.

“Because…” he said, rubbing his thumb along the rim of the coffee cup again, the cigarette now nearly forgotten between his fingers. “I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore. I didn’t want to lie. Not to you.”

You exhaled slowly, processing the weight of his admission. You hadn’t expected this. Not today, not in the middle of Paris with your coffee in hand and the sunrise still fresh in the sky. His words felt out of place, but at the same time, maybe they were exactly where they needed to be. After all, wasn’t this what you had been afraid of? That you weren’t on the same page, that he wasn’t as invested as you? And now, here he was, confirming it in his own messy way.

“I just-” He paused, finally setting the cigarette down and running a hand through his hair, something he always did when he was nervous. “I wasn’t ready for…us. And I thought staying away was the right thing to do. Maybe it wasn’t. I realise that now."

You watched him closely, feeling the tension in the lines of his body, the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat like he was bracing himself for impact.

He looked at you, and the sincerity in his eyes almost took your breath away. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable, you could tell. 

“And now?” you asked, your own voice softer, trying to understand where he was going with this. “What now?”

He let out a small, shaky laugh, almost as if he didn’t know the answer himself. “Now…I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to screw this up again.”

There was something in the way he said it, the way his hand trembled slightly as he reached for his coffee, that made you realise just how much this moment meant to him. He wasn’t just trying to make things right. He was terrified of losing you.

“I don’t want you to leave again.” you admitted, the words coming out before you could stop them. “Not like that. Not without a reason.”

He swallowed, the vulnerability in his eyes intensifying. “I’m not going anywhere. Not like that. Not again.”

And as he said it, you felt something in your chest shift, just slightly. It wasn’t a resolution, not yet, but it was a start. You weren’t sure what the future held, or if either of you was truly ready for what was coming next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like you were both standing on the same side. 

He reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and in that moment, everything felt a little less complicated.

“I’m sorry for saying it now, I just…” he trailed off, his eyes searching yours like he was unsure if he should’ve even brought it up. 

“No, no. It’s fine.” you reassured him, and you meant it. 

He nodded, a little more settled, and without needing to ask, he held out the cigarette again, offering it to you. You took another drag, the smoke filling your lungs, but before you could exhale, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. It was sudden but not hurried, the kiss soft and tasting of coffee and tobacco. As your lips parted, the smoke left your mouth, lingering in the air between you two.

The day seemed to fly by in a blur, each place you visited going by faster than the last. You were halfway through the itinerary he’d meticulously planned, yet it felt like only minutes had passed. He never stopped talking, rambling on about the art, the architecture, or even the little details no one else would notice. He always had something to say. Whether about the intricate details of some statue you’d barely noticed or a stray thought about the cobblestones beneath your feet. 

It wasn’t always cohesive. Sometimes he’d start on one subject and then veer off into another, as if his brain couldn’t process everything fast enough. “Wait- what was I saying? Oh yeah- so this place, right?” And yet, you understood. You always did. You loved listening to him, even when his sentences veered off in 100 different directions, because somehow, you always understood him. There was no need for him to find the perfect words, because just the sound of his voice, the energy behind it, was enough to tell you everything you needed to know.

There was something effortless in the way you both communicated, even when it seemed like he didn’t quite know what he wanted to say. His hand would find yours as you walked through the narrow streets, pausing to point out something in the distance or gesture wildly as he tried to explain a thought that clearly mattered to him, even if the words didn’t always come out right.

“I know I’m rambling.” he said at one point, chuckling softly as he glanced your way. “You probably don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

You squeezed his hand and smiled, shaking your head. “I get it.” you said simply, and he looked at you like you’d just solved a puzzle that had been plaguing him for years. 

The two of you moved from place to place, each moment blending into the next, each filled with the quiet understanding that this day was fleeting, but it was also something that would linger in the back of your minds for a long time.

It felt like it was slipping through your fingers. You could hardly keep track of where you’d been, moving so quickly through the list of places he’d planned for you. But it didn’t matter. 

As you walked, he kept one hand wrapped around yours, the other gesturing as he spoke, fingers brushing the air with excitement. His enthusiasm was infectious, making you smile even when you were exhausted from all the walking. You loved it. Loved how he cared about everything, how he saw the world in a way you didn’t always catch on your own. He was the filter through which you experienced life whenever you were with him, a lens that made everything more vivid, more real.

At one point, you both stopped in front of a small fountain tucked away in some side street, where the noise of the city felt muted, distant. He stood there, catching his breath for a second, before launching into another thought about the history of the neighbourhood. “I read something about this place once…” he trailed off, but the details didn’t matter. What mattered was him, the way his words filled the space between you, the way you could feel his affection in every sentence, even the ones that didn’t quite land.

“Are you bored yet?” he asked after a while, noticing your silence.

You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “I love hearing you talk.”

He gave you a look, like he wasn’t sure whether to believe you, but the corners of his mouth turned up in that soft, almost shy smile you’d come to know so well. He looked down, running a hand through his hair. “Alright.” he murmured. “Because I’ve got a lot more to say…Like the fact that I wanna fuck you right now.” he said, his voice low and serious. 

His eyes stayed locked on yours, searching for any hint of reaction, but it wasn’t in the playful, teasing way you might’ve expected. It was a confession, raw and sudden, and it hit you harder than you anticipated.

You blinked, feeling a heat rising in your chest and spreading through your whole body. It took a second to process. Your lips parted in surprise, and you could feel the flicker of a smile on your face, but you weren’t sure whether to laugh or be serious back. “Right now?” you asked, eyebrows lifting slightly, the teasing lilt creeping into your voice despite yourself.

“Yeah.” he said, his tone unwavering, his face staying serious as his gaze drilled into you. The bluntness of it, the way he didn’t try to soften it, made your heart stutter. 

You exhaled a quiet laugh, glancing around for a moment like the absurdity of the situation was catching up to you. “So you wanna have sex…now? Like, here?”

He shifted his weight a bit, glancing around too, as if suddenly realising how bizarre it all sounded. “No, not here.” he mumbled, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge if he was serious or just caught up in some impulsive rush. But the way he looked at you, that intensity in his eyes. It made your stomach flip. And for a second, neither of you spoke, the air thick between you, buzzing with a kind of tension that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

He scratched the back of his head, laughing softly at himself, but it didn’t break the intensity. “I have to go straight to the airport when we get back to London.” he added quietly, his words almost catching on something unsaid. His eyes dipped, like he was already regretting bringing it up, but there was an urgency in his voice now, a need to get everything out before he lost the chance.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head, trying to understand what he was getting at. “So you want to do this now, before you leave?” you asked, your voice soft, but there was a playful edge there too. You couldn’t help it, the way he was fumbling through the moment was kind of endearing. 

He let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head slightly, his lips quirking up at the corner like he was laughing at himself. “Not here.” he repeated, his voice almost frustrated now, but not in a bad way. “I don’t know. I just don’t wanna waste any more time.” He said it like it was something that had been eating at him, something he’d been holding onto for a while, and now it was spilling out all at once.

There was a pause, and you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying hanging between you. The way he fumbled with his words, his hands, his expressions. It all screamed that he was still processing it too, not knowing exactly how to navigate this. But he was trying, and you could see the urgency in his eyes, the need to make these last moments count.

You couldn’t help but smile, something soft curling in your chest. “You’re ridiculous.” you said, moving a little closer, your hand brushing lightly against his arm.

He gave you a small, sheepish grin. “Maybe.” He glanced around, then pointed to a narrow, slightly abandoned-looking alley nearby. “We could go over there.” he said, his voice low and playful, clearly testing the waters.

You blinked at him, surprised. “On the street?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged casually, but his grin was unmistakable. “Yeah?”

You gave him a look, part incredulous, part amused. He held your gaze for a moment before his expression softened. “Okay, no.” he admitted, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Maybe not.”

You gave him a teasing look. “I mean, I could suck you off in an alley if you really want, but I’m not getting naked on the street.”

His eyes widened slightly, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Really?” 

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at him. “Only because you’re so impatient.” you shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

He laughed. “I might have to take you up on that.”

He looked ahead, his eyes darting toward the abandoned alley he’d spotted earlier. For a split second, you thought he might actually be considering it, but then he shook his head with a chuckle. “Okay, okay, no. You’re right. I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to. I just-” He paused, his hand still resting on your waist. “I’ll just miss you. That’s all.”

“I know.” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you rested your head against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering just a little too long, letting you feel the warmth of his lips through your hair.

Then, after a beat of silence, he spoke again, quieter this time. “I’ll miss you a lot.”

Hearing him say it out loud like that made your chest tighten. It was like the reality of his leaving was sneaking up on you in the middle of this moment, hitting you in a way it hadn’t before.

You smiled softly, turning your face up to him. “I’ll miss you too.”

You’d both forgotten about that moment about the alley until now. The late lunch, early dinner was meant to be a quiet, bittersweet goodbye before you had to head back, something simple. You were sitting across from each other in the quiet restaurant, trying to make the most of the time left, talking about anything except what was coming next. It was supposed to be a nice meal, a chance to slow down, to enjoy each other’s company. But when his hand grazed your leg, it wasn’t even intentional. He was mid-sentence, saying something about his flight, but the moment his fingers made contact, it was like a spark went off in your chest. It just an absentminded gesture while he was talking, but the jolt it sent through you was instant. The air between you thickened, your pulse quickening.

You knew he hadn’t meant it like that, but now? It felt like that.

You stopped listening. Your eyes flicked to his, and you saw it there, the same realisation crossing his face. His words trailed off. 

You parted your lips to say something, anything to diffuse the tension, but all that came out was a shallow breath. His hand hesitated, lingering for a second, and you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched like he was trying to stay in control. 

“I didn’t mean-” he started, his voice low, almost apologetic, but you didn’t let him finish.

“I know.” you whispered, but the way your knee pressed back against his hand said otherwise.

He swallowed hard, eyes darkening as they flicked down to where his hand rested. His thumb traced a slow circle against your leg, and suddenly, whatever restraint you’d both been trying to hold onto was gone.

Within minutes, you were on your feet, heading for the bathroom, and he was right behind you. The door clicked shut behind you, and before you could even take a breath, his hands were on you, pulling you to him, his mouth crashing against yours. It was desperate, messy, full of all the things you hadn’t said, all the things you didn’t have time to say. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressing you back against the cool tiles of the wall. 

The rush of it all made your head spin, your body already humming with anticipation. It had to be fast. Too fast for his liking, too rushed for yours. But you couldn’t stop. Neither of you could.

His hands fumbled at the waistband of your pants as he kissed you, hurried and desperate, like he couldn’t get close enough. You could feel the tension in him, the way his fingers trembled slightly as they skimmed over your skin and pushed them down. “I hate this.” he muttered, voice rough against your ear, breath hot as his lips ghosted over your neck. “I hate that it has to be like this.”

“I know, baby.” you whispered back, but your hands betrayed you, already tugging at his belt, already fumbling with the button of his trousers. “But we don’t have time.”

“But I wanna take my time with you.” His eyes fluttered and he let out a groan that sent a shiver down your spine. “You deserve better than this.” he breathed, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers splayed across your bare skin. “Not a quick shag in a bathroom.” 

“I know.” you whispered back, your own hands sliding down to cup him over his trousers, feeling how hard he already was, how ready. “But I’m not complaining.” 

He groaned, the sound vibrating through your body, and you pressed harder, your palm stroking over the thick length of him. His hips jerked forward on instinct, and for a moment, all the frustration and regret in his voice melted away.

All those thoughts, the guilt of rushing, the fleeting nature of this moment, vanished from his mind. There was only the heat of your body against his, the way your touch made everything else disappear.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his forehead pressing harder against yours, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. For a moment, he seemed frozen, like he was trying to hold back, trying to keep some semblance of control. But the moment you applied a little more pressure, his restraint snapped. His hands slid down to your hips, and with a quick, deft motion, he was hiking you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist.

He was kissing you again, harder this time, his hands sliding up your ass, desperate to feel you. His fingers dug into your flesh, his body pressing close to yours, his breathing uneven. You felt the urgency in every movement, the way he tugged at your clothes, as if time itself were slipping away faster than he could keep up. 

The heat of his body against yours, the way he was kissing you like he couldn’t get enough, had already wiped any coherent thought from your mind. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth moved down to your collarbone, sucking lightly at the skin there, just enough to make you gasp.

He paused for a second, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were dark, filled with something that went beyond the urgency of the moment. “I’m sorry.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was apologising for more than just the rushed pace.

You shook your head, cupping his face with one hand, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Don’t.” you whispered, your voice catching slightly. “Don’t apologise.”

And then, before either of you could say anything else, your hand slipped between you again, brushing against the hardness straining against his trousers. He groaned, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hips jerked forward again, pushing into your hand. 

“Fuck.” he muttered again, his voice hoarse. The second your fingers worked the zipper down and you touched him, bare skin against bare skin, all of his resolve crumbled. 

He cursed under his breath, hands gripping your hips tighter as he guided himself to you, his movements almost frantic. “I hate this.” he whispered again, but his words were lost as he pushed into you, a ragged moan tearing from his throat. 

You gasped, clinging to him as he filled you, the feeling overwhelming, intense. Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer, deeper, and he groaned again, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

For a moment, neither of you moved, just holding each other, breathing hard, feeling the heat of each other’s bodies. Then, slowly, his hips began to move, the rhythm fast, desperate. He couldn’t help himself. His hands roamed your body, one slipping under your shirt, the other tangling in your hair as he kissed you, swallowing your moans.

His breath was hot against your neck, ragged and uneven, and he wouldn’t stop breathing you in, like he needed the scent of you to keep him from falling apart. His lips grazed the skin just below your ear, his breath hitching every time he pushed into you, deeper, harder. The heat of his body, the desperation in his movements, it was all-consuming, and you felt like you were drowning in him. 

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling harder than you realised, and you could feel him wince slightly, feel the strands giving way, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. The tension was too thick, the urgency too sharp, and he didn’t stop you either. He wouldn’t have cared if you ripped every last hair from his head. He could feel the sharp pain from your grip, but it was nothing compared to the way your body clenched around him, pulling him deeper every time he thrust. He let out a low, strangled moan, his hand gripping your hip so tightly you were sure it would leave marks.

“God…” he muttered, his breath warm against your neck as his hips snapped forward again. His voice was rough, barely controlled. “I’ll miss your cunt.” The words were raw, his lips brushing against your skin as he said it, like it was the most honest thing he’d ever spoken.

You gasped, your nails digging into his scalp, tugging harder, feeling the tension in his body as you arched against him, pressing yourself closer, deeper, matching his rhythm. “I’ll miss your cock.” you whispered back, the words slipping out in a breathless gasp.

His reaction was immediate. He thrust into you hard, making your back hit the wall, his breath catching as a guttural moan tore from his throat. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, in sync with the rough, erratic rhythm of his hips.

“You better.” he growled, his voice dark and dripping with possessiveness, each thrust harder than the last, like he was making a point with every movement. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wild and dark and filled with something primal. “You fucking better.”

You didn’t need to say anything. The way your body responded to his, the way you pulled him closer, harder, said it all. His fingers dug into your waist, lifting you higher, angling himself deeper, and all you could do was hold onto him, your breaths coming in short gasps as he buried himself inside you over and over again.

He wouldn’t stop breathing into your neck, couldn’t stop. His lips hovered over your pulse, feeling it race beneath your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat as he kissed and nipped at your throat. His breath was hot, shaky, every exhale a mix of groans and whispered curses as he fought to keep control. But the way your legs tightened around him with every thrust was driving him to the edge faster than he wanted to admit.

“I don’t want this to be over.” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, almost lost in the sound of your breathless moans. 

The pressure building inside you was too much, too fast, and every time he pushed into you, every time his hips slammed against yours, it sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you. Your body was trembling, your grip on his hair tightening even more as you felt yourself slipping closer to the edge.

“Say it.” he growled, his voice rough and commanding as his hand slid down to grip your thigh, pulling you closer, deeper. “Say you’ll miss me.”

“I will.” you gasped, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts as the heat between your bodies reached its peak. “Fuck, I will.”

And that was all he needed. His thrusts became erratic, his breath hitching with every movement as he chased his release, groaning your name under his breath like it was a prayer. The sound of your voice was too much and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

With one final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his head dropping to your shoulder as he came, his body trembling against yours, his grip on your waist tightening. He groaned low and deep into your neck, his breath hot against your skin, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. There was only the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies moved together, the way you held onto each other. 

He stayed there for a moment, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his breath coming in slow, heavy pants as he tried to catch his breath. His hands slid up your back, his touch softer now, more tender, like he was afraid to let go.

“I love you.” he muttered again, quieter this time, his lips brushing against your collarbone. 

“I love you too.” you whispered, your fingers still tangled in his hair, gently now, stroking the back of his neck as you held him close. You could feel the tension in him, the way his body was still trembling slightly against yours. 

He pulled out slowly, his breath still heavy, and you could feel the sudden emptiness, the way his release dripped out of you almost instantly. A soft groan escaped your lips at the sensation, and for a moment, you almost didn’t care. You’d let it drip all it wanted if it meant holding onto the moment just a little longer, letting the feeling of him linger with you. But the practical part of your brain kicked in, the part that remembered you still had to take the train back, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you couldn’t sit there like this. 

He seemed to sense it too, his hand brushing your thigh as he stepped back, his expression softening, more tender than it had been a few moments ago. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a crumpled napkin he must’ve grabbed from the table earlier, and gently, carefully, wiped between your legs. His movements slow. He didn’t want to rush this part. He didn’t say anything, but the way he did it said everything.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” he murmured quietly, his voice still thick, a little husky from the exertion. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours as he finished, and you could see the flicker of concern in them, like he was still holding onto some of the guilt about how fast it had all happened.

“I’m fine.” you whispered, but the warmth in your voice wasn’t lost on him. 

He gave you a small, almost reluctant smile as he helped you adjust your pants, his fingers brushing lightly against your hips as he tugged them back into place. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze dropping to your waist as he zipped you up. 

“Thanks.” you murmured, your voice a little softer now, a little more vulnerable as you stood there, still catching your breath. You watched him for a moment, his fingers fumbling with your clothes like he was elongating these last few moments of closeness before reality set back in.

“Don’t mention it.” he replied with a quick smirk, though the playful glint in his eyes had dulled just slightly, replaced by something deeper, more reflective. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to smooth it out, but the way you’d pulled at it left it untamed, and you had to bite back a smile at the sight of him trying to regain some sense of normalcy.

Once he was sure you were taken care of, he turned his attention to himself. It was easy for him, his movements fluid. Just a quick tuck and zip. Within seconds, he was back to looking like the man who’d walked into that restaurant. Sharp. Like nothing had happened. But the way he avoided meeting your gaze for a second, the way he ran his hand down his face, told you it was anything but simple for him.

“Good as new.” he muttered, flashing you a lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You chuckled softly. You knew this was just a temporary reprieve, a fleeting bit of closeness. He was still standing so close, his hand resting lightly on your hip, but the impending goodbye hung between you like a heavy fog, impossible to ignore.

“We should head back.” you said after a beat. 

“Yeah.” he agreed, his voice equally soft. But he didn’t move, didn’t pull away just yet. Instead, he let his hand linger on your waist, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. 

The ride back was somehow quicker than the one there, the city blurring past the train windows, and with each passing minute, it felt like the goodbye loomed closer and closer, stealing away what little time you had left. You’d both gone quiet, not for lack of things to say, but because the weight of what was coming next pressed down on the air between you. Just a few more stops and you’d have to bid him “adieu” as he’d joked earlier, messing with his butchered French in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You stared out the window, the reflection of his face in the glass catching your attention more than the scenery outside. He sat beside you, legs spread comfortably, his hand resting lightly on your knee, but it was a different kind of touch now. Softer, more absentminded, like he was holding on out of habit. 

You cleared your throat, desperate to fill the silence. “So...where are you headed now?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer. Anything to keep the conversation going, anything to avoid the reality waiting at the next stop.

“Germany. Berlin.” he replied, glancing over at you with a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll get the photographs developed and send them to you as soon as I get there. I’m already waiting to see them.”

You nodded, the familiar feeling of deflection settling between you. You didn’t care about the photographs right now, but it was easier to focus on that than the fact that in just a few minutes, he’d be gone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, there’s this studio there.” he explained, his voice taking on that familiar, casual tone, as if the topic of his travels could somehow smooth over the tension. “They know me. It’ll be quick.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “You’ve always got a place, don’t you?”

He grinned at that, his hand squeezing your knee a little tighter. “What can I say? I’m a man of many connections.” He leaned back in his seat, trying to appear nonchalant, but there was something in his eyes, something that betrayed the cool exterior he was putting on for your sake.

“Guess I’ll be looking at your pictures for the next few weeks.” you said lightly, though the thought made your chest tighten. “Months.” The idea of only seeing him through photographs, of him being so far away, felt too real, too sharp, and you quickly added, “Maybe I’ll frame one, put it next to my bed.”

”Months, yeah…” He chuckled, but there was a hint of something bittersweet in the sound. “I’ll make sure it’s a good one, then. Don’t want you waking up to a bad angle of me every morning.”

“I don’t think you have a bad angle.” you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” he replied with a grin, his eyes flicking to yours for a moment before settling back on the train floor, as if he was trying to keep the mood from dipping too low.

There was a pause, the kind that stretched a little too long, and you felt that familiar tightness creeping into your throat. “When do you think you’ll be back?” you asked, keeping your voice as steady as you could.

He hesitated for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against your knee. “Not sure.” he admitted quietly. “Could be a while. Depends on the schedule...how things go.”

You nodded, swallowing against the knot in your chest. “I’ll wait.”

His hand slid from your knee to your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I know you will.” he said softly, squeezing your hand. “That’s why this is so hard.”

The words hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for, and you turned your face toward him, searching his eyes. “Then why didn’t you want me to come to the airport?”

He exhaled slowly, looking down at your hands. “Because if you did…I don’t think I’d be able to get on the plane.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “If you were there...it’d make it too real. And I’d rather leave like this, just you and me...without it being a big, dramatic thing.”

He looked up at you, his expression softening as he studied your face. “I’m gonna miss you.” he said, the weight of the words hanging between you, undeniable now.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” you whispered, squeezing his hand a little tighter, like maybe if you held on long enough, you could stop time, keep him here for just a little longer.

The train slowed to a stop, the doors hissing open, and you both stayed seated for a moment, neither of you ready to move.

“This is it.” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stood first, pulling you up with him, and for a second, you just stood there, face to face, hands still entwined. 

“I’ll write.” he promised quietly, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I’ll call. Whenever I can.”

You nodded, managing a small smile despite the ache in your chest. “You better.”

He grinned, that familiar, cocky smile breaking through for a moment. “Wouldn’t want you to forget me.”

“Not a chance.” you replied, though the words felt heavier than they should have.

With one last squeeze of your hand, he turned, stepping off the train, and you watched him disappear into the crowd. And just like that, the moment was over, and you were left standing there, the weight of the goodbye settling in.

The doors closed, the train started moving again, and as the distance between you grew, all you could do was hold onto the promise he’d made. That, somehow, this wasn’t really the end again. 

a/n: it’s a bit boring sorry

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica