#for the ficlet you mean though i think they do get together

[tennessoui]

Ok kit I have a bone to pick with you because you write all these amazing angst stories that go on forever but then there’s only like 3 glimpses of fluff ????? Like ???? Please don’t rip my heart out and just leave it there ???? After putting us through thousands of words of pure dread and stress I feel like we deserve a lil treat at the end like give us more kisses and cuddles and pure happiness

(I’m kidding btw I love everything you give us lol I feel like I need to be in the right headspace sometimes gotta prepare my heart for what’s about to happen. Like pretty pls give us like a very short summary of what happens after that kiss in the drunk party au like surely they get together and get married and whatnot?? Also why did anakin only just divorce padme after 9 years like that’s a pre long time to stay in a marriage he’s not 100% into imo but also what do I do know about love lol)

so storytime right when i was in the sixth grade, smack dab in the middle of impressionable middle schooler at 11 years old, i read ahead in my english textbook (nerd) to a poem we never actually got to in class and it was about these two people who used to be together but who broke up meeting at a party and it's both amicable and bittersweet and they're both on this balcony with the party noises in the background and a storm is approaching and the narrator thinks that everything is frozen in that moment except for them because it's like the person she had loved then was changing and growing before her eyes until they turned into a stranger and then they both go back inside because the storm is almost here and you actually can't stop time and they're not lovers anymore they're just strangers but they had one last moment of being together filled with awkward conversations and nostalgic feelings and then they too understand they can't stop time because you really can't stop time did i mention that and the storm was always going to hit and it's like their final goodbye to both each other and who they used to be

and ive never been able to find that poem cause i don't remember the title or the poet or the 6th grade english textbook it was in but when i say that it had a deep effect on me.....lmao. everything i've ever written contains at least one or two elements of that poem i just wanna make someone else feel the way i did when i was twelve and read it for the first time

[witchywithwhiskey]

bucky + “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

getting what you want on a rainy spring afternoon

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, fingering (f receiving), consent issues (but not really? idk), dirty talk, light degradation, kissing, teasing, banter, friends to lovers

word count: 2,500ish

a/n: thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! i had far too much fun writing these two, which is why it ended up being so long 😅 (compared to my other springtime fun ficlets anyway)!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

“Stop it.” The words were barely discernible with the way they were growled, the annoyed rumbling coming from your best friend, Bucky Barnes. Your best friend who had come over on that rainy spring afternoon to hang out and had promptly fallen asleep instead.

Though you would’ve expected yourself to be a little sleepy, given the long week you’d had, you found yourself feeling more restless than anything else. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to settle down and cuddle up against Bucky’s arm like you’d done so many times before. 

So you were left to your own devices with your best friend, who’d fallen asleep sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against your couch. He looked completely at ease on your couch while you were bored. You wanted Bucky’s attention and, for some reason you couldn’t fathom, you’d decided the best way to get it was to annoy him until he woke up. 

You’d been trailing your fingers over his bare arms and face, tickling him until his expression twisted and he grumbled in his sleep. It was immature, but you were having too much fun to stop, suppressing your giggles every time he made an unhappy sound.

Finally, you got some actual words out of him and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. Bucky sounded so cute when he was tired and grumpy. Maybe it should’ve made you stop, but instead you waited for him to fall back asleep, his soft snores joining the gentle rhythm of the rain and the hum of the movie still playing on your TV. 

Reaching up, you trailed your fingertips ever so lightly down the bridge of Bucky’s nose, skipping them off the edge before they fell to his mouth. You were surprised by how soft Bucky’s lips felt beneath your fingers, so different to the scruffy roughness of his cheeks and jaw, which seemed to be permanently covered in stubble.

Bucky’s lips parted as you were tracing them, and you yanked your hand away, turning to face the TV so you could pretend you’d only been watching the movie if he woke up. But you watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, and he seemed to be sleeping still. Then his tongue darted out to wet his lips and your face heated inexplicably. 

Suddenly, your thoughts were filled with ideas about what it would feel like to have Bucky’s mouth pressed to yours, his stubble dragging against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing your best friend kissing along your jaw and down your neck—his lips exploring even more intimate parts of your body…

Squirming in your seat and trying to ignore the heat curling through your belly, you turned fully to Bucky, watching him closely to make sure he was asleep. When you were certain hew as, you reached out, tracing his lips again with your fingertips, feeling their softness and the dampness left behind by his tongue. 

Your body warmed, and you pressed your thighs together against a pulsing ache building in your core. You didn’t want to think about your body’s reaction to touching your best friend, but you also didn’t want to stop or pull your hand away. You wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible.

So enraptured by the sight of Bucky’s mouth, you didn’t notice when his lips parted further, his raspy grumble surprising you so much you had to bite back a gasp.

“Cut it out.”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” Your reply was quick, as you pulled your hand away and leaned against his side like you were simply cuddling into him. It was normal for you to cuddle with your best friend, though you weren’t normally thinking about kissing him, or about doing other things with him, when you did.  

Unfortunately—or fortunately—your new position of leaning against his arm put your face close to Bucky’s. His mouth was right there, looking oh so enticing, and an impulsive thought popped into your mind. What if you just…brushed your lips against his? Not even fully against his mouth, just the edge of it. Could it really count as a kiss if you just brushed your lips to the corner of his mouth? 

You decided it didn’t. 

Leaning forward, your eyes fluttered closed as your lips ghosted over the stubble next to Bucky’s mouth, then connected with the softness of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat. It felt so good—his warm breath caressing your cheek and his velvety lips against the edge of yours. You could even taste the coffee he had that morning, the flavor rich and mixing with something that was entirely Bucky.

It occurred to you far too late that you were dangerously close to kissing your best friend, and you shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—especially while he was sleeping on your couch. You knew you should pull away and go back to watching the movie, pretend nothing ever happened. But what you really wanted was to press closer, to sink into Bucky’s chest and slip your tongue past his lips. 

Instead, you just hung suspended in the moment, too wrapped up in your thoughts about kissing your best friend to notice the way his breathing shifted, his body tensing like a predator’s would right before it pounced. 

Then, all at once, Bucky moved, flipping you down onto your back on the soft couch cushions and covered your body with his own, his narrow waist fitting perfectly between your thighs. His hard bulge pressed to your core, making you gasp as pleasure surged through your body, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to keep him close.

“Not doing anything, huh, doll?” Bucky rasped in a teasing voice, a wide grin on his face. “Certainly not kissing your best friend while he’s asleep, right?” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim daylight of your living room. You squirmed guiltily beneath him, but that only succeeded in grinding your heated core against his dick, making it twitch in his sweatpants.

“Bucky,” you whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists and shaking them, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Now that he was awake, you were painfully aware that your friendship was hanging by a precarious thread, but the heat flooding your body urged you to throw all caution to the wind. Still, you knew you needed to apologize for what you’d done, and you whispered, “I’m sorry,” in a small, pitiful voice.

But Bucky only grinned, ducking down and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Don’t apologize, doll,” he said in a warm, happy tone. “I’ve been awake since you started touching my face,” he pressed a kiss to your other cheek, trailing his lips down and blowing a raspberry against your jaw, which made you shriek with laughter. 

You tried to squirm away from his teasing mouth, but Bucky grabbed your hands, pulling them from his shirt and pinning them above your head. His face hovered above yours, his eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Then, a sly smirk curved his lips and his eyes darkened, your body lighting up at the expression. “Didn’t think you’d kiss me though.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and his voice went a little distant as he murmured, “Didn’t think our first kiss would be when you thought I was asleep.”

Your lips parted and it was on the tip of your tongue to apologize when his words sank in. Had Bucky just implied that he’d thought your first kiss together was inevitable? And did his words mean he’d thought about kissing you before? How long had he been thinking about kissing you?

You didn’t have time to fully form a question in response to Bucky’s words because your best friend slanted his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss. Immediately, the entire world fell away and your mind went blissfully blank—your guilt and trepidation melting into simple pleasure as you reveled in your first proper kiss with Bucky. 

Kissing your best friend felt like coming home and sinking into the safety and comfort and bliss of knowing where you belonged. The way your lips slid against Bucky’s, you knew you belonged with him—in his arms—always. It was overwhelming and delicious at the same time, and you never wanted to stop.  

“Taste so good, doll,” he rumbled, pulling away for only a second before he was diving back into your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and twining with yours. 

You moaned into him, your hips working against the bulge in his sweatpants as you writhed beneath him. Bucky groaned, trailing his hands down your arms to your sides, freeing your hands to dive into his soft brown hair. You yanked on it lightly while his hands groped your breasts in your shirt, then smoothed down your waist to grip your hips and grind himself into you.

“Bucky!” you cried, wrenching your lips from his as you clung to your best friend and writhed with him. You could feel his hard cock perfectly through the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the thin fabric of your lounge shorts. He was grinding against your clit, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck and all you felt was bliss. “Don’t stop, Bucky, please don’t stop,” you begged in a breathy voice. 

Bucky chuckled into the crook of your neck, suckling on your pulse point and groaning when you humped harder against him. “As if I could ever deprive you, doll,” he murmured, his voice warm and sweet and filling your mind with all the dirty things you could beg Bucky to do to you.

Dragging his face back to yours, you made out with Bucky, your kisses turning messy as you both got closer to the edge of your releases. Your bodies writhed together on your couch, your legs hitching around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to keep your clothed core grinding against his thick bulge. 

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna—” Your words cut off on a sharp cry as Bucky rolled his hips, fucking you into couch like he was pounding into your cunt. The friction against your needy clit was perfect, and you felt the pleasure in your body surge, coiling tighter and tighter. 

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Come all over your best friend’s bulge like the needy little thing you are.” He rocked his hips into yours, grinding his cock against your clit through your clothes, hitting the aching nub in just the way you needed.

The pleasure in your core snapped suddenly, and you let out a shrill cry as you came, your body going tight and taut as you clung to your best friend. Your legs held him close, your hands fisted in his hair while you moaned in his ear, your body shuddering beneath his bigger form while you rode out your release by grinding languorously against his bulge.

Then you heard Bucky groan into your neck, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he kept humping against you. You felt a warmth between your thighs and shivered, knowing what it was and it only turning you on more that you’d made Bucky come without either of you taking off your clothes. 

A smile curled your mouth as you humped against your best friend’s twitching cock while as he came in his pants. He was groaning into your neck and you were clinging to him, feeling every trembling shudder that wracked his broad body.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, riding out his pleasure by rubbing against your soaked core and milking every drop of come from his cock. “Fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the word and finally settling to lay on top of you as he collapsed. You lay entwined together for a long moment, simply enjoying each other. 

Then, Bucky pushed up on his hands and glanced down your bodies, where he’d made a mess of both his sweatpants and your shorts.

You couldn’t help but giggle, only laughing harder when Bucky shot you an accusatory look. “This is entirely your fault, y’know?” he grumbled, beginning to move off you carefully so he didn’t make an even bigger mess. “If you hadn’t felt so good coming under me…” 

You’d been about to make some flippant comment about how it’d feel much better if was inside you, but then Bucky shoved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, walking bare-assed over to the laundry in the hallway. He turned to you expectantly, but your eyes were too busy taking in the sight of your best friend’s cock, still half-hard and swinging between his thick thighs. 

“Are you going to help me clean up, or are you gonna make me strip you out of those filthy clothes?” Bucky asked gruffly, playfulness in his tone. 

That snapped you out of your thoughts and you pushed yourself up off the couch, sauntering over to Bucky, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down to watch the sway of your hips. Once you were standing right in front of him, you tugged your shirt off over your head and pulled your shorts off, leaving you naked in front of your best friend.

Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening as they took you in. “Christ, doll,” he muttered distractedly, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin with a greedy glint in his eyes. “You’re constantly surprising me.” 

“Well someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” you teased, pushing up onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips before you darted around him and ran into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and turned on the hot water, intent on taking a shower to clean up.

Before you could step beneath the warming spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist and he hauled you against his body. His thickening cock wedged between your ass cheeks and his breath ghosting over your cheek as he murmured into your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bucky rumbled, his hand slipping between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your soaking wet slit. “You’re mine now—and I’m going to have so much fun making my girlfriend come all over my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thrusting his fingers into your needy cunt, making your knees shake as you struggled to stay upright. 

All you could do was whimper and moan, clinging to Bucky’s arms and melting back against his chest. A smile played on your lips, though, as you realized you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—your best friend’s attention. And you knew you were going to enjoy every minute of that rainy spring afternoon with your boyfriend because Bucky, and his attention, was finally all yours.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Daddy kink Wolverine x reader… just throwing that out there

Logan Howlett x Gambit variant male reader

Ficlet

Reader is a Gambit variant, cuz I love Gambit… I have no idea how to write accents though, so you’ll just have to imagine it. This isn’t as long as my other ficlets, but I just needed to get it out my system. There is also no outright written smut, but you guys will live.

Deadpool and wolverine spoilers ahead

Two Gambits was an experience, any member of your small resistance in the void could back said claim. Most of the time none of them could pick up on what you and Remy were talking about, since you both slid into your mother tongue on most occasions. Unlike Remy, you had had a life before being thrown into the Void. Apparently, you were only meant to be the horseman of death for a while before returning to the Gambit, but instead you had become one with this new part of yourself, meaning you needed to be gotten rid of.

Your life sense, as an avatar of death, was what let Laura find Wade and Logan so easily, and how you guys could avoid Nova and her folks as well. Seeing Logans disregard for Remy and the rest had just made you laugh, speaking in the same accented voice as Remy, making Wade make even more comments about dialect coaches and tongue twisting. The only tongue twisting you were gonna do, would have to be a bit more intimate though, your sentence ended with a short wink shot Logans way.

Maybe it was nostalgia that had you picking on Logan the night before your big surprise attack on Nova. The original Logan from your universe had never been an X-men either, not for long at least, but he had always been in your circles. It had led to multiple rolls in the hay together, so to speak, but in the end, he had even sided with the X-men to take you and the other horsemen down. Thinking back, you could never figure out if he was sad to see you go, but part of you were happy to see him finally looking comfortable by the x-men’s side.

You were both pleasantly buzzed when you crawled into his lap, throwing your long coat and headgear to the ground as you got comfortable. His hands were so rough and calloused on your hips, Logans voice deep and growly as you smirked down at him. Who would have thought that the wolverine would be into being called daddy. The moment the word left your lips, just to be a tease about it, his pupils seemed to blow wide open and before you knew it, you found yourself on your back.

Grumbles of Cajun French left you as Logan ripped through your pants with that inhumane strength of his, looking half feral with that sneer on his lips. The ferocity lessened when that title left your lips again, hands settled on his sideburns as you murmured out accented begs, soft “daddy, daddy, daddy” passing your lips.

With how wild Logan had been acting in the beginning, you honestly thought hed fuck you like he hated you, like you were just stress relief. But to your shock, it became something more akin to lovemaking. Sure, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave dark bruises, and covered your neck and shoulders in enough hickeys to make even Remy blush, but he was surprisingly soft.

And every time that word left your lips, Logan just seemed to melt into it more and more, his usual growling and snarling more akin to a deep rumbled purr against your chin as he moved you as he pleased. It was so intimate, you almost teared up, and that soft almost vulnerable look on Logans face made you think maybe he felt that way too. He kissed like you were something special and precious instead of just another partner to warm his bed, something you had so rarely felt before.

Slumped together and spent made you wonder if this meant anything at all. Or were you two just fellow broken souls who’d lost everything and everybody, and who could only find comfort in another just as shattered person. Feeling Logans arms around you made you at least want to survive and see, who knew, maybe there was space for another Gambit wherever Logan was gonna go after this.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

a little Tommy & Chim bffs for @rileychester

----

"Her ladyship requests, no demands, uncle Buck reading her a story before bed instead of her own mother." Maddie said, walking back into the livingroom after having gone to put Jee to bed half an hour ago.

"What can I say, it's not easy being this popular." Buck joked and extracted himself from where he'd been happily tucked under Tommy's arm on Maddie and Chimney's way too comfortable sofa. He quickly kissed Tommy, murmured something about being right back, and followed Maddie up to Jee's room.

Tommy watched him until he was out of the room and then turned back to Chim who was laughing at him.

"Damn Kinard you've got it bad."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tommy said, trying to act somewhat cool and hide his reddening cheeks behind his wine glass.

"Yeah I'm sure you don't." Chim took a sip of his own drink. "I mean I love Maddie more than anything in the world, but I don't kiss her goodbye when she leaves the room."

"Well maybe you should start." Tommy told him. If he was getting called out, he might as well own it. "It's working pretty well for us."

"She'd probably think I was going crazy and call Hen to come check me over. Who would then also ask me if I'd lost my mind." He said and they both laughed. "But it's good to see you so happy, man. Both of you. Even if I never in a million years would have guessed that you two would end up together."

"Me neither really." Tommy admitted. "I actually almost let your call go to voicemail that night. My shift was almost over and there was bad weather coming in... I just wanted to go home and catch up on some sleep."

"And there was me asking you to steal a helicopter because of a hunch. I'm sure Bobby is still very grateful you didn't ignore me." Chim said and raised his glass at him. "To team who cares!"

Tommy clinked his glass against Chim's.

"Bobby isn't the only one who's grateful. If I hadn't answered that call, i would have missed out on the greatest thing that ever happened to me. i wouldn't have met the love of my life. I wouldn't be here now. I might have downloaded that dating app again that I'd deleted off my phone a few days before or taken Lucy up on her offer to set me up with her friend." Tommy shook his head. "I'm just glad I did answer. it definitely changed my life for the better."

"You're getting sappy in your old age, Kinard." Chimney teased. "When is the wedding? Do I have time to buy a hat?" he joked, expecting Tommy to laugh with him. Only when he didn't say anything Chim really looked at him. "What? Tell me you didn't..."

"I asked Evan to marry me last night." Tommy told him after a beat. "He said yes."

Chimney blinked a few times to process the information.

"Of course he said yes! He's just as crazy about you as you are about him." he got up to hug his friend. "Welcome to the family, man. We'll officially be brothers."

Tommy smiled and finished the last of his wine.

"There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about though..."

"Shoot."

"When Evan and I get married... will you be my best man?"

"It would be the greatest honour of my life."

---

Send me a prompt and I'll write you a ficlet!

[unclewaynemunson]

I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.

When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.

But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.

MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!

I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3

---

Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.

'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.

'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'

Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.

Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.

'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'

And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'

'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'

Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.

'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.

'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'

'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'

'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'

'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.

'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'

Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.

'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'

Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[ghoulsbounty]

hi i heavily request something where the reader and the ghoul(cooper) are travelling together and it’s night time, they’re outside trying to get some sleep. the reader is sleeping beside cooper but they get cold and they subconsciously move towards him and grab him, laying on his chest. HOW WOULD HE REACT? 🫶

Until Tomorrow

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Bounty!Reader 

Warnings: sliiiiight mentions of smut (18+), alluding to masturbation, a bit of angst, mentions of canon-typical violence/torture, control, small mention of barb if you squint, mention of sex work (not reader), Cooper is mean.

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is just a little ficlet that I've left open ended in case anyone would like a part two. I didn't want to go full-guns blazing into a smut fic since you didn't specify, but I am more than willing to do so, Anon 🫡 I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

👉Read part two HERE👈

"What are you up to?" the Ghoul's voice pierced the eerie night, sharp and accusing. The darkness shrouded the makeshift camp, the bitter wind cutting through with relentless force. His eyes narrowed as he watched you approach, tension thick between you.

You dropped to your knees, wrists sore from the tight bindings he had reluctantly removed. The sand greeted you with a thud as you settled beside him, maintaining a cautious distance. You needed warmth, but you couldn't get complacent with your captor.

"It's freezing," you stated matter-of-factly, shifting against the sand to carve out a somewhat comfortable spot, however impossible. "You let the fire die."

The Ghoul glanced towards the extinguished campfire, a thin wisp of smoke rising lazily into the frigid night sky. The remnants of charred wood and ash lay scattered around it, the faint scent clinging to his clothes as he reclined against the dunes.

"I can start it up again," he offered, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "If you fancy being deathclaw chow."

Your gaze widened as you glanced into the expanding darkness, the absence of the fire amplifying the encroaching shadows. Terrifying howls and snarls reverberated from the depths, prompting a chilling question: were the creatures lurking out there truly more fearsome than the man holding you captive? The notion of a swift demise by claws and teeth seemed almost preferable to the prolonged torment of captivity. While the Ghoul might not be the one to end your life, delivering you to the cartel as he had pledged would render him just as culpable. In that sense, he might as well be the one to pull the trigger himself.

After your first escape attempt, the Ghoul's demeanour turned even harsher, though the dehydration was a greater torture than any physical aggression. He justified his restraint, explaining that he refrained from inflicting worse harm only because you were required in perfect condition, and he took pride in fulfilling his bounties meticulously. However, his rationale did little to mitigate his rough treatment. To him, a few small bruises and the sting of restraints were acceptable, especially considering your spirited defiance.

But in the span of a few weeks, that defiance began to wane, and resignation crept in. You felt like a sacrificial lamb, resigned to its fate, being led to the inevitable slaughter.

"I'll take that as a no," he remarked, snapping you out of your reverie as he shifted beside you. Even he seemed affected by the cold, evident from how he huddled in his duster, arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to retain warmth. You couldn't help but envy his layers, wishing for more of your own as you wrapped you arms around your torso. 

You maintained silence, willing yourself to sleep as you turned away from him. Any further interaction felt uncomfortably intimate.

Cooper listened to the sound of your ragged breaths battling against the cold, your body trembling beside him. The wind was particularly brutal, the kind he would normally seek refuge from in an abandoned building. However, your sluggish pace throughout the day had resulted in him setting up camp in the exposed wasteland, devoid of shelter or respite from the elements. Your punishment, he had said, for dragging your feet.

He could endure it; he had endured it countless times before and would do so again. But for you, he wasn't so sure. Despite your initial bite, you had turned into a meek little thing in the palm of his hand. A small, niggling part of him wondered if he had been too harsh, but survival instincts dictated otherwise. When an animal showed its teeth, you put it down—figuratively speaking, of course, he couldn't risk losing his bounty caps. 

This new approach seemed to have worked with you, perhaps a bit too well.

As you shifted beside him, turning to face him with closed eyes, Cooper felt like prey ensnared in the hunter's grasp, awaiting the next move. An uneasy panic gripped him at the sudden feeling of helplessness, but he willed his breath to steady. You released a deep sigh as you pressed your body against his side, and he stiffened at the unexpected closeness. Your arm draped across his abdomen, and a leg hitched and hooked around his thigh.

Cooper was nearly ready to question your apparent lack of brains when he noticed your breathing, deep and steady. His words died in his throat as he felt your arm tighten around him, drawing him closer to you like an anchor. It wasn't a conscious decision to seek him out; rather, a subconscious response to the biting cold, he reasoned. Yet, it did little to ease his discomfort as the warmth from your thighs spread over him, seeping into his core and igniting a sensation he hadn't yet entertained with you.

He found himself mesmerized, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, his gaze drifting to your parted lips as you released another sigh. Your nose pressed against his shoulder, and he could swear he felt the warmth of your breath through the layers of fabric, igniting the burnt skin beneath.

This wasn't real, not to you, and certainly not to him. By morning, he would carefully remove himself from your embrace, restoring the intended distance your unconscious mind had breached. You would remain oblivious, and only Cooper would bear the weight of knowing how his muscles longed to reach out to you, to touch you without the shadows of anger and conflict looming over them. He cursed the memory from a distant life that surfaced in his mind—a loving touch beneath soft sheets, a foolish adoration for a lover turned stranger.

His fingers twitched, restrained by the firm crossing of his arms over his chest. If he could just maintain this position, he could endure the night. If he could ignore the sensation of your leg tightening around his thigh, your knee brushing against his growing arousal, he could make it through. He chastised himself inwardly for his weakness. He should push you away, keep you bound and isolated from him, be indifferent to whatever dangers might befall you because it would have been your own fault. But Cooper needed those caps. If he could just survive the remainder of this journey with you and keep his sanity intact, he promised himself a visit to the next inn, where he could seek solace in the comforting touch of those who were more than willing to accept a ghoul's money.

Still, he didn't expect anything to compare to the softness of your breasts pressed against his side. Something snapped within him at the sensation, a jolt of electricity coursing through his body. The wild thought crossed his mind that perhaps you were warming to him, not just seeking warmth for yourself. He had broken you, after all, hadn't he? Or at least, he was on his way to doing so. He couldn't help but wonder: if he woke you, would you pull away or press yourself closer?

A foolish thought, but one that haunted him nonetheless.

He lay in silence, listening to the rhythm of your breath as he stared up at the stars. Waking you wasn't an option; he wouldn't risk the inevitable panic and distress of you finding yourself half-straddling the monster who had stolen your freedom. He would let you sleep, indulging in the fantasy that you felt something other than contempt for him as he waited for the sun to rise. Until then, he justified to himself as his hand slipped from its restraint under his arm and found the buckle of his belt, it would be a shame for a solitary man not to indulge.

[cuubism]

thoughts had while traveling turned into a ficlet

[E]

-

After university, Hob had always kind of assumed they'd end up in the same place. He doesn’t know why he was so foolish as to think that. But he was always foolish about Dream.

Hob had stuck around in London. He liked traveling, liked seeing new places, but London was home. And it was nice to feel like he had roots somewhere. Like he was maybe sort of building a life.

Dream, meanwhile, had essentially vanished.

He’d picked up some kind of remote editing job that he could do anywhere on top of his writing, and took full advantage of it to bounce all over the globe. Hob didn’t even know all of the places he’d lived, Dream moved so often.

He’d been in Los Angeles for a while and apparently hated it. He’d been in Singapore for about six months at some point. Then he’d been in Istanbul— or was Istanbul before? At one point he’d been in a rural village in Slovenia.

(Hob got emails about these things.)

Then at one point, he’d been in Paris, which at least seemed to suit him a tiny bit better. Still hadn’t last long, though.

Now, Hob’s not sure where he is. He tries not to take it personally. Tries not to take it like he wasn’t enough for Dream to want to stay. Dream just had some things to figure out, he thinks. That’s all.

One day, seemingly at random, he gets a FaceTime call.

“Hob.”

Hob squints at the screen. It’s very bright. He can barely make Dream out. “Where are you?”

“Rhodes,” Dream says.

He pans the phone around to show Hob what must be just about the most gorgeous beach he’s ever seen. It’s a little cove with fishing boats bobbing, water still and sun-drenched.

Dream turns the camera back around. He looks like he’s been crying, eyes red-rimmed, eyeliner smudging. He’s sitting on the sand, phone propped on his knees.

“What’s wrong?” Hob asks, alarmed.

“Is it better,” Dream wonders, “to be full of despair on a beautiful beach, or does it not matter?”

“What d’you mean?”

Dream wipes at his eyes. “I. I thought if I just went. Somewhere. That it would get better. Death even said. Try changing your environment. I did. I did.”

“You did, you went to a lot of places, didn’t you?”

Dream nods, and sniffles. “Why didn’t it fix anything?”

“Oh, darling.” So that’s what it is. He’s just running away from himself.

“What is wrong with me,” Dream continues, “that. I am sat watching the sunset in one of the most beautiful corners of the world. And I feel nothing.”

“It’s not the corner of the world that's the issue,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, sniffling again.

“I want to go home,” he says, despondent.

“Come home, then.”

“Is that still with you? After all I’ve put you through?”

“Yeah, Dream.” To my peril. But Hob will never be able to turn Dream away. “It is.”

Dream nods. “Okay.” Then he stands. “I suppose I may as well go for a swim, while I am still here.”

“Not going to drown yourself, are you?”

Dream huffs. “No.”

He risks the fate of his phone taking Hob with him, though. Holds it above the surface as he treads water, hair increasingly fluffy and clumped together from salt.

“It really is gorgeous,” Hob tells him. The water is so, so blue and the sky so wide. “You’re making me jealous.”

Dream smiles faintly. “You would enjoy it better than I.”

“Maybe. I’m enjoying watching you though.”

“Oh?” Dream raises an eyebrow. Only his throat is visible above the water, but it’s enough. Hob can imagine the rest. His attraction to Dream’s never wavered. “Tell me more.”

“Come home and find out instead, idiot.”

Dream smiles. “Hmm.”

“Oh yeah, hmm.”

Dream’s smile widens. God, he’s so gorgeous. “You’re making me want to leave now.”

“Do it then.”

“Okay.” He starts swimming back to shore, and Hob laughs.

“I missed you, you maniac.”

“I missed you,” Dream echoes.

“S’gonna be okay, yeah?” Hob tells him. “So Rhodes didn’t fix anything. It’s alright.”

“It’s alright,” Dream echoes, eyes looking misty again.

“Just come home.” Hob can’t promise to fix anything. But he can promise Dream a home.

“Yes,” Dream agrees, sea water flowing around his throat, sunset in his hair. “Yes.”

-

Hob half-expects Dream actually won’t. That the flash of melancholic clarity will give way to his usual method of running, that Hob will get an email that he’s now in Samarkand or somewhere and isn’t actually coming “home.” Maybe London isn’t really home for him. He hasn’t been there in years anyway. Maybe.

But one day Dream wanders into the pub they used to get Friday drinks in, the pub Hob’s taken up bartending in, partly for the extra cash, partly to feel closer to Dream.

Hob drops a glass when he sees him, Dream flinching at the crash where he stands in the doorway. Hob ducks behind the bar to clean it up, heart pounding. God, he’s actually here. After three years.

When he stands again, Dream is standing right before the bar, looking uncertain. He’s terribly underdressed for the weather, hair damn from the rain, black t-shirt sticking to his shoulders.

“Um,” Hob says, wringing a bar towel in his hands. “Get you your usual?”

Not that Dream’s usual is necessarily the same, after all this time—

Dream leans across the bar and hugs him.

“My usual,” he says, voice so close to Hob’s ear now that he shivers. Dream’s damp hair tickles his cheek. Hob ought to get a towel and dry him off.

He hugs Dream back, leaning awkwardly over the bar. “Missed you.”

Dream hums, finally releasing him. He takes a seat on a bar stool, a faint smile on his face now. On instinct Hob takes off his sweatshirt—New Inn branded—and gives it to him.

Dream takes it, gaze lingering on Hob’s face as he pulls it on. He immediately looks less frigid, though.

“Is it still the driest red on the menu that you want?” he asks, and Dream laughs.

“Yes.”

Hob pours him one, sliding it across the bar. Their fingers brush. It feels, almost, like no time has passed at all. Nothing changed.

“So,” Hob says, grateful there are no other customers awaiting his attention. “Rhodes?”

“The last of many,” Dream says wearily.

“Looked beautiful?”

“Yes,” Dream agrees, and sips his wine.

“So.” It’s hard to ask what he really wants to ask. Are you actually back? Are you actually here for me? “Are you. You have somewhere to stay?”

“I am not wandering the streets,” Dream says with a half smile. “I have a hotel room. For now.”

“Still itinerant,” Hob says, before he can think better of it, and Dream’s smile turns sad.

“Yes.”

“Learn anything?”

“I learned that moving about doesn’t fix anything when the problem is inside of you,” Dream says. Hob winces at the phrasing of it. There’s no problem with you, he wants to say. But he understands what Dream’s getting at. “I do not know what does fix it,” Dream continues.

Hob doesn’t either. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be in Dream’s head. “Try staying here, then,” Hob says. “What’ve you got to lose?”

Dream studies him. “Indeed.”

It really does feel like nothing and everything has changed between them. But maybe not everything. And maybe it’s okay.

He rests his hand against Dream’s on the bar. “Finish your wine,” he says. “And come home with me.”

Dream takes a final sip of his wine, eyes locked on Hob’s over the rim of his glass, and licks the red droplets from his lower lip as he takes Hob’s hand.

-

Hob has him bent over on the bed, bobbing his head on Hob’s cock, before they’ve had the chance to pass more than a few additional words. Dream seems not to need words, anyway. His expression is finally slack and peaceful, neck craning, eyelids fluttering, as he takes Hob’s cock down, down, down, Hob’s grip tight in his hair. He hasn’t lost any of his skill in these intervening years, apparently. Or his enjoyment of it.

“Yeah, that’s it, darling,” Hob praises, thrusting up into his mouth. “Good. You’re so perfect at this.”

Dream whines, the vibration traveling through Hob’s body, reaching awkwardly around himself to press needy fingers to his own hole.

“I’ll do right by you, darling, don’t worry, come here.” Hob pulls Dream off and hefts him up, sitting back so he can settle Dream in his lap. “Don’t worry, love.”

Dream looks down at him with wide, dark eyes, breathing hard, mouth open and wet. He swallows, says, voice thready, “I need you in me.”

Hob’s heart thumps, hard. It hurts. “I know.”

Dream pushes his cheek into Hob’s temple, lips smearing saliva over his skin, clutching so tight at Hob’s shoulders it hurts. “Hob.”

“Shhh.” Hob holds him close as he works him open, Dream crying out and clutching at him with each touch. God, Hob remembers what he was like. He really hasn’t changed at all.

When he finally sinks Dream down onto his cock, Dream lets out a long moan, then goes slack again as he shivers. Hob tries to breathe evenly and stay still, letting him adjust, no matter how good it feels to be buried in him again.

“It has been too long,” Dream says, when his breathing’s evened out.

“Didn’t have tons of adventures on all of your travels?”

Dream shakes his head. “Not the same.”

It’s not the same. No one Hob’s hooked up with in the intervening years has been the same, either. No one else makes this feeling rear up in him, like he would do anything for the man in his arms, like he would dash himself to pieces just to have him. It might not be a good feeling but Hob wants it nonetheless.

He doesn’t say all that. He says, “It’s not, no one takes me like you do, I’ve missed how gorgeous you are bouncing on my cock, missed how perfect it feels to fill you.”

“Yes,” Dream says. “It’s so good. I missed that. Please, Hob.”

Hob hefts him in his lap, bouncing Dream on his cock. Dream cries out, holding to him tight. “Yes—!”

Fuck, he feels good. He’s so pliant and wanting, need burning in his fingertips and his wet panting breaths by Hob’s ears. Hob would give him anything in the world.

“Came back just for this, didn’t you?” he says. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes— I missed— oh, Hob!” This as Hob nails his prostate, Dream wailing and clutching at him. Yes. Hob remembers exactly how it feels to make him feel like that. God, it’s everything to make him feel like that.

“More,” Dream begs. “More, harder.”

Hob will give him more. More and more until he’s full up on it, until it’s enough for him to feel satisfied, enough for him to cease his wanderings and stay.

He fucks Dream harder until Dream’s reduced to incoherent wailing, throwing himself into Hob’s touch like to feel nothing and everything is a relief. And Hob feels everything, too: the tight heat of Dream’s body, the dig of his fingertips, his wet panting breaths—and more than anything, the overwhelming want. He wants Dream. He has always wanted Dream.

Dream comes first, pushed over the edge with Hob’s hands on his waist and his cock rubbing over Hob’s belly. He cries out, and then wraps his arms around Hob’s shoulders, holding tight as Hob chases his own completion in his body.

Hob closes his eyes as he comes, just floating in the feeling of having Dream around him. He’s missed that so much. He’s missed Dream so much, in these years he’s been left behind.

He doesn’t realize how emotional he’s gotten about it until he feels Dream’s fingertips tracing over his cheeks, wiping away tears.

“Sorry,” Hob says, voice choked, holding Dream close even as he gently slips from his body.

Dream strokes his hair. “Perhaps I ought to go,” he says quietly, but makes no move to get up. “I fear I am being unfair to you.”

“I’m the one that told you to come back. Wanted you to.” Even if it just breaks his heart all over again, when Dream decides he still isn’t happy, and can’t stay.

“Even so.”

Still he doesn’t move to get up. Hob runs his hands up and down his back, just feeling him.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Dream continues some time later, still stroking Hob’s hair. Hob’s long since buried his face in Dream’s shoulder. “How you. Can feel content.”

Hob barks a laugh. “You think I’m content?”

“Are you not?”

“I don’t know, Dream.” Content to be here, in London, maybe, to not need to uproot himself, chasing some nebulous sense of better, but content? While knowing Dream was out there somewhere?

“My mistake,” Dream says. He rests his cheek on top of Hob’s head. “Perhaps there is no contentment, then.”

That makes Hob laugh for real. He finally lifts his head, looking Dream in the eye. “You’re the most dramatic bitch I’ve ever met. ‘There’s no such thing as contentment'? Dream.”

Dream smiles, then leans in to kiss him. Hob sighs into the brush of his lips. There is such thing as contentment, he thinks.

“What if I don’t leave this time,” Dream says, when their lips part.

“You mean it?”

Dream nods, forehead leaning against Hob’s. “I am. Tired. And this. Is the first moment I have not felt fatigued in longer than I can remember.”

“I’ll have to tire you out better, then.”

“Hob.”

“I’m kidding you, love.” Really, all of Hob is leaping in cautious joy. Could Dream truly mean it? “I want you to stay. Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

Dream nods, and lets Hob help him up. They make their joint way to the bathroom, where Hob pulls Dream into the shower with him, and they hold each other close under the warm spray, and Dream washes Hob’s hair with careful focus, mindful of tugging it. Afterwards Hob gives Dream some pajamas to borrow, for all of Dream’s things are still in his hotel room. Dream cuddles up to him in bed, hesitant at first, until Hob opens his arms and assures him of his welcome.

The feeling of Dream laying his head down on Hob’s chest is heavenly. It’s dangerous. But it’s so good.

"I'm sorry," Dream murmurs, into the dark.

“For what? Leaving? You don’t have to be. It’s your life.”

“I don’t know quite what for,” says Dream. “I feel I am wavering about and dragging you along with me.”

“Maybe I want to be dragged along.”

Dream lifts his head to give him a look. “Precisely,” he says, and Hob feels skewered. Seen in his pathetic wanting. Like if he had more self-respect, he’d hold his inconsistent friend at a distance, not invite Dream right back in to break his heart again.

Dream’s decision to leave the first time wasn’t even about Hob. They weren’t really together, more on again, off again, falling into each other and then away. “Friends with benefits.” Only Hob had always cared more about the ‘friends’ than the ‘benefits.’ Maybe if he had made it clearer, Dream would have stayed.

Maybe he needs to stop making it his fault, when it wasn’t about him.

Only. The fact that it wasn’t about him also means that it was.

“Why didn’t you stay?” he asks, grip tightening around Dream’s shoulders.

“I wasn’t happy,” Dream says. The words feel like a shove to the chest. “I didn’t. I did not know how to fix it. I tried to leave. Then I tried to leave again. Only. You can’t leave yourself.”

“What makes it different this time?”

If London— if Hob— didn’t make him happy before—

“Maybe nothing,” Dream admits, quietly, still lying on Hob’s chest. “Maybe it was a futile chase from the start. And I should give up trying.”

“Dream—"

Dream plows on, as if he needs to get it all out. “I called you because. I was staring out at the ocean. I felt nothing. But I thought, ‘Hob would like it.’ And when I showed you, that did make me happy. For a moment. And when I told you how I felt… that made me happy, too.”

Hob wants to say something, but his throat is too tight. God, Dream always finds new ways to break his heart.

“I think that maybe contentment is not… for me,” Dream adds, fingertips stroking lightly up and down Hob’s side. “But the closest I've felt, in fleeting moments, is when I am with you.”

“Dream…” this time it comes out as barely a breath. “My love.”

“Still?”

“Yeah. Always.” Maybe Hob doesn’t have very good self-preservation. But it’s Dream. It’s always been Dream.

“For me as well,” Dream says, and Hob lets out a long, heavy breath.

“Now you’ve got to show me Rhodes in person,” he teases, to break some of the heaviness in the air.

Dream’s smile curves against his skin. “You will like it.”

“I’m sure.”

“I think I will like it more with you there,” Dream adds.

“Yeah?” Hob says.

“Mmhm.”

“I think you just want to ogle me on a beach.”

“If I’m to be in a beautiful place, I ought to have a beautiful man as well,” Dream says. The feeling of his rare smile still pressed to Hob's chest is devastating.

“Completes the picture?” Hob asks, chest tight.

“Yes.” Dream wraps his arms around him and cuddles in close. “I believe it does.”

[yourdarkcherry]

Is it casual now? //Ellie Williams x fem!reader 2

Summary: After meeting Ellie at the party, you continue to do stupid mistakes.

Warnings: just making out, Ellie is an asshole, reader going through her first wlw break up pray for her.

a/n: omg I was in disbelief at the love this ficlet got!! tysm to everyone who commented and reblogged it means the world to me <3 also sorry guys but lately writing smut is starting to feel so boring 😭 so no smut here ig if you don’t count implications and tit sucking?

When you return to Abby, you find yourself forcing laughter as the dread in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing. The smile on your face feels strained, and you feel cold and hot all at once. 

Abby looks at you, concern etched on her face. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks again, her hand gently touching your arm.

You nod, even though you don’t entirely believe it yourself. “Yeah, I just needed a breather,” you reply, trying to sound more convincing. “Let’s get a drink.”

As you take a sip of your drink, you glance around the room, half-expecting to see Ellie watching you. The dread in your stomach grows with each passing moment, and you can’t shake the feeling of being watched, judged.

Though the idea of drinking after you’re feeling all tight all over is a bad idea. Because you simply find yourself with a desire to throw up as the contents of your stomach are swirling. The red solo cup you’re holding drops to the floor as you double over, with a hand covering your mouth and another on your head.

You feel Abby’s hand on your back as she kneels to see your face. Concern coloring her face, and for some reason you feel so dirty under her pure concerned look. “You okay?”

She’s so pure, so nice, and so untainted. You’re exactly the opposite, and you don’t deserve her. 

“I’m... I don’t think I’m okay,” you manage to answer, your voice strained and weak. “I think I need to get some air.”

Abby nods immediately, her grip on your arm firm and supportive. “Come on, let’s get you outside.”

The shaking on your head is strong and adamant. “No…no, you stay here and enjoy the party, dance with someone else. I’m gonna…gonna probably stay outside, uhm.” you swallow when you feel your mouth is dry. “I saw some classmates outside in the backyard smoking weed, so uhm…gonna do that.”

“I can come with,” Abby offers.

You shake your head, your hand on her shoulder as you affirm, “I’m gonna be okay, you enjoy your time…I don’t want your memories of Halloween to be nursing some stupid girl.”

“You’re not stupid, and—” you interrupt her argument, “just stay here, I wanna be alone.”

Abby’s expression shifts, a mix of reluctance and understanding in her eyes. She hesitates, but eventually nods. “Alright. But if you need anything, you call me, okay?”

You force a smile, trying to reassure her, and only answer back in a nod. But it seems unsatisfactory to her as she opens her mouth to speak, but you squeeze her shoulder in reassurance and push past her to the kitchen to take the door leading to the backyard. 

As you step outside, the cool air hits you, offering a brief respite from the chaos inside. You spot a group of your classmates huddled together, passing around a joint. 

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of someone familiar. Your heart skips a beat as you see Ellie stepping out into the backyard, her eyes scanning the area. She hasn’t noticed you yet, but the sight of her is enough to make your pulse quicken.

When she enters the house, you decide that enough is enough and you must go home.. Coming to this party was a horrible idea, and taking Abby with you was an even worse one.

What were you expecting? You ask yourself as you walk around the house, and head to the front street. Your debit card got blocked a few days ago because of an overdue payment, so calling an uber is out of question. You could ask one of your friends to take you home, but the party just started and most of them simply just arrived—and you don’t want to be a selfish asshole.

You don’t want to ruin anyone's night because of your inability to exist in the same place as Ellie.

So, walking home is the only option. It’s a bad idea, obviously, considering you would be walking at least 34 blocks in high heels and a slutty cop costume. But you’d rather do that than be ruining anyone’s else night and add more to your many regrets. 

You start walking, the cool night air biting at your exposed skin. Each step is a reminder of how ill-prepared you are for this trek, but the further you get from the party, the more your mind begins to clear. The sounds of the party fade into the background, replaced by the quiet hum of the city at night.

A few blocks in, you feel harsh LED lights coming from behind you, casting long shadows ahead. The sound of a car slowing down makes your heart race. You start speed walking out of fear, hoping it’s just a passerby.

But then you hear a familiar voice. “(Y/N), wait!”

You turn your head slightly and see Ellie’s face through the cranked-down window of the car. Your heart skips a beat, and you quicken your pace, hoping she’ll just drive away. But she doesn’t.

“(Y/N), please stop!” Ellie calls out, her voice tinged with urgency.

You stop abruptly, feeling a mix of anger and exhaustion. You turn to face her, the car now idling beside you.

“What do you want, Ellie?” you ask with clear irritation coloring your voice.

“Get in the car. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone,” she says, her tone softening as she looks at you with concern.

You hesitate, torn between the urge to get away from her and the logic of her words. The cold air bites at your skin, and the pain in your feet is becoming unbearable. With a reluctant sigh, you walk over to the passenger side and get in.

Ellie lets out a breath she seems to have been holding. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

The car starts moving, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable. You stare out the window, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. Finally, Ellie breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

You don’t respond immediately, letting her words hang in the air. The city lights blur past as the car moves through the quiet streets. Your mind is a jumble of memories and feelings, each one more confusing than the last. You want to believe her, to think that things could be different, but a part of you remains guarded, unwilling to let go of the pain.

“Can…I don’t know...acknowledge that I’m talking to you?” she says with exhaustion, her eyes leaving the road in front of her to glance at you with guilt.

“Ellie, I heard your apology but I don’t accept it,” you say with a scoff. “And honestly, I don’t even know why you’re apologizing because you said everything between us was all casual. So honestly, fuck whoever you want and you can ghost me all you want because I don’t care anymore.”

Ellie’s face falls at your words, her eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and frustration. She takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts.

“(Y/N),” she starts, her voice strained, “I know I messed up, and I’m not expecting you to just forgive me right away. But I want you to know that I’m really sorry for how everything ended. It wasn’t just casual to me, even if I acted like it was.”

You glance at her, her sincerity warring with your anger and pain. “You say that now, but where was that honesty when it mattered? When you were with someone else and I was left picking up the pieces?”

Ellie looks away, staring at the road ahead. “I was scared,” she admits quietly. 

You repeat with growing irritation, “scared?”

“Yes, scared. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings, and I ended up hurting you because of it. I’m not asking for forgiveness right now, but I just wanted you to know that I regret everything. I regret how I treated you.”

The car falls silent again, and you can hear the hum of the engine and the occasional whoosh of passing cars. Your heart is conflicted, the anger and hurt still present, but now mixed with a tinge of empathy.

After a long pause, you finally speak up. “Why were you scared?”

Ellie’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, her knuckles white as she takes a moment to gather her thoughts. “I was scared because everything was going too fast,” she admits, her voice cracking with emotion. “You met Joel, and things started changing. I felt like I was getting too close, and I wasn’t ready for that.”

She glances at you, her eyes reflecting a deep vulnerability. “I was very vulnerable with you, and I liked you. No, it was more than just liking you…and when I got too vulnerable, and your presence had this effect on me... I didn’t know how to handle it. I was overwhelmed.”

Ellie’s voice falters as she continues, “I felt like I was losing control, and instead of facing it, I bailed. I pushed you away because it was easier than dealing with my own feelings and fears.”

The car falls into a heavy silence, the hum of the engine and the occasional whoosh of passing cars the only sounds between you. Your heart is torn between the anger and pain you’ve been carrying and the empathy for Ellie’s struggles.

After a long pause, you finally speak up, trying to process what she’s just shared. “So, you were scared of getting too close because you didn’t want to be vulnerable? Because you didn’t want to feel things you couldn’t control?”

“Exactly,” Ellie replies, her voice soft but tinged with regret. “I thought if I kept things casual and pushed you away, I could protect myself from getting hurt. But now I see that it only made things worse.”

You nod slowly, the weight of her confession sinking in. 

“You…you liked me?” you repeat just to be sure.

“I was in love with you.” She admits at a red light stop, and the confession truly flips your whole world over. It feels like a fever dream, but when you pinch your thigh it’s all so real, and the only thing you can think to do is to bounce from your seat and bring her face close to kiss her.

Ellie’s surprise melts into the kiss as she responds with equal intensity. Her hand reaches up to cradle your face, pulling you closer. She wants to deepen it, you both do. But the honk from the car behind you jolts you both away from each other. 

The light is green, but when the car behind you both gets ahead of you. Ellie quickly regains your composure, her face is flushed.

“You wanna come home with me?” she asks as she glances over at you, her expression serious yet hopeful.

The question hangs in the air, and you can feel the weight of it pressing down on you. The night’s events have stirred up so many emotions, and the offer feels both comforting and complicated.

Although you’ve never made the right decisions, answering Ellie with a firm “Yes.” has never felt so right before. 

Ellie’s face lights up with a mix of relief and joy. “Okay,” she says softly, her hand reaching out to take yours briefly before returning to the steering wheel. “Let’s go.”

Though realistically the drive to her place from the party house isn’t that far. It feels far as you’re growing with anticipation. You missed her. You missed touching her, kissing her, and you missed the way her face would scrunch and her jaw slacks when she cums. 

The second she parks, you both exit her car in a world-record amount of time and racing to the elevator in an even shorter time. When the elevator doors close shut and no person enters, she hastily clicks on her floor and pulls you close from your waist. Her breath is warm against your skin. Her hand slides from your waist to your back, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Without a word, her lips find yours. The kiss is urgent and passionate, as if she’s trying to tell you everything she couldn’t say and you do the same thing. Your skin is growing hot by the second, and her slightly colder hand smoothes over your bare arms and to your cropped waist to pull you even closer.

You wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her down to deepen the kiss—if that was even possible. Her tongue is wrestling with your own. Her legs slots between yours as she cages you against her and the elevator door, before she could give you the desired friction you need, the elevator doors slide open.

Like a well-practiced dance, you both continue kissing as you stumble blindly to the direction of her apartment. You hear the jingles of her keys as she messes with her pocket, she only breaks the kiss to slide in her key and slam the door open.

She leads you to her bed, pushing you down and you spread your legs to allow her to situate herself between yours there. Unbuttoning your skimpy blouse, she trails kisses down your chest with each button she frees. 

“Fuck…I missed this sweet pussy…” she whispers against your chest. Her palm cupping your pussy as you writhe under her touch.

You help her take off her clothes as she helps you take off yours. You’re only left in your fishnets while she sucks on one of your nipples while tweaking the other. You arch against her as a loud moan is plucked from your throat.

When she breaks apart from your nipple, she cups your breasts and rests her forehead on your own. 

“Finally, you’re mine again.”

She doesn’t linger much, then tears your fishnets and sinks her mouth to your pussy.

—--------

The first thing you notice when you awake the next morning is Ellie’s absence. Your hands roam her bed in search of her but only get met with the cold sheets and a big empty bed. The panic sets into your lungs as it kicks all the oxygen off you. 

You feel like you should feel a little ashamed at walking around her house butt naked, only her flannel shirt that you don’t bother buttoning up covering your shoulders. You look in her bathroom, and kitchen and you don’t find any sign of her despite it being her home. 

You don’t want to jump head first into conclusions, so you pick up your phone and ignore all the missed calls and texts from all the people that cared about you at your disappearance from the party. You dial in Ellie’s number, having memorized it.

It rings for a whole minute, then to five till you get the automated message. You try again, again, and again before you get the message when you look at your reflection.

You feel stupid for believing everything she said, for believing that she wouldn’t hurt you for thinking that she cared about you and was willing to be vulnerable with you. 

Your vision is blurry as you dial in Leah’s number, she picks up at the first ring.

“Hello?” Leah’s voice is groggy but quickly turns concerned when she hears your distress.

“Leah, it’s me,” you say, your voice cracking. “I’m… I don’t know what to do. Can you come pick me up?”

Leah’s worry becomes palpable as she fires off questions. “Where are you?! Everyone was so worried about you and Abby has absolutely no clue where you are and—”

Her questioning stops abruptly as she hears you start to cry. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Leah’s tone softens. “I’m coming. Just stay where you are and try to stay calm. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You end the call, then send Leah your location and you know it won’t take her long to connect the dots of what you were doing here in Ellie’s place. You decide you will worry about that when she comes, for now you quickly dress up in your clothes, at least from the clothes you find and can salvage. 

The emptiness of the place and the weight of your emotions leave you feeling raw and vulnerable.

Despite it being a cold autumn morning, you feel like you can’t wait for Leah in Ellie’s home. Surrounded by everything that reminds you of her and feels and smells like her. So you are sitting shivering on the stairs outside her building, shivering in your boots as you embrace your arms and try to warm yourself up.

You feel so dirty, and you hope that a hot and slow shower with rough scrubbing on your skin will make you feel clean but that’s nearly impossible because the grime you feel isn’t only on your skin. It’s on your heart. 

What even made you think that ditching Abby and sleeping with Ellie was a good idea? You regret it, and you know that you’re gonna regret it till you die. 

Leah’s beat up car noises are distinct, you hear her car before you see it. Then when you do, her window is cranked down as she watches you in disbelief. 

It’s almost ironic, Leah was who picked you up from Ellie’s that first night you both slept together, and she’s the one picking you up now in the last night—you promise yourself it will be the last night ever.

“You gotta be shitting me.” Leah says when you walk over to the passenger seat. She doesn’t even move when you put on your seat belt, she keeps on watching you.

“Can we just go?” you whisper, looking down at your lap.

Leah sighs before looking away and shifting the gear, the car moves and it's silent for a minute before Leah begins. “Oh you have seriously out done yourself, I thought you having a fucking ‘casual’ thing with Ellie fucking Williams is a stupid idea, but this? Oh this just takes the cake.”

You remain quiet, staring out the window at the blurred streetlights, feeling the tears sting your eyes again. The weight of everything is overwhelming.

She exhales sharply, her tone is softer as she says, “I know it seems like I’m pissed off, but it’s just—I don’t want to see you hurt like this,” Leah says, her voice trembling slightly. “I want you to be happy, and I want to help you. But you gotta let me in.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. Leah’s genuine concern is cutting through your numbness, and the truth is, you’re exhausted from trying to navigate everything on your own.

“You know,” Leah continues, her voice even softer now, “I’m really worried about you. We’ve been friends for a long time, and seeing you like this—it’s not okay.”

The drive continues in silence, except for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires on the road. Leah glances over at you every now and then, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

She drops you at your place, and is stubborn about staying with you but you’re even more stubborn as you tell her that you just simply want to be left alone.

You are left alone with your thoughts for almost two hours. You’re stuck on your bed as you watch the ceiling and allow your tears to fall down freely. 

Once again, you got played by Ellie, and you hate yourself even more for believing her when she did the same to a million different girls, said the same things to them. She didn’t love you, she just loved the attention you gave her.

She most likely boasts about you always being the whore wrapped around her finger whenever she wants.

Other girls learned their lesson after being dropped once by her. But you never did. Everytime she ghosted you, all the times she told you hurtful things, and all the moments she told you that she liked you but didn’t like you like that. You still went out of your way to speak to her and allowed her to fuck you whenever she wanted. 

The more you think about it, the more the anger festers inside you, growing into something almost unbearable. How could you have let yourself fall for her lies over and over again? You replay every moment, every sweet word, every kiss that now feels tainted with manipulation. It’s a sickening feeling, realizing how deeply you allowed her to get under your skin, how easily you let her play with your emotions.

You sit up in bed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, but they keep coming. It’s like a floodgate has opened, and every bottled-up emotion is pouring out. You’re angry at Ellie, but more than that, you’re furious with yourself for not being stronger, for not walking away the first time she hurt you.

The vibration of your phone alerts you, and you pick it up as you look at the caller ID. 

Abby’s name shows up on your screen. Guilt freezes your stomach and makes your heart drop. The last thing you want right now is to drag her into your mess, especially after she was so kind and supportive. You hesitate before answering, knowing that you owe her an explanation for your sudden disappearance.

You swipe to answer, your voice cracking slightly as you say, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Abby," her voice comes through, filled with concern. "I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you okay? I’ve been worried."

Her genuine worry makes your heart ache even more. "I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just needed some space."

"I understand needing space, but I just want to make sure you’re safe," Abby says softly. "I’m really sorry if I did something wrong. I know last night was... unexpected. If you need to talk or need anything, I’m here."

You can hear the sincerity in her voice, and it only adds to the weight of your guilt. "No, Abby, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... I’ve been dealing with a lot and I didn’t handle things well."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Abby offers gently.

You take a deep breath, struggling to keep your emotions in check. "Thank you, Abby. I just... I’m not really in the right state to talk right now. But I appreciate you checking in."

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and then Abby says, “well, I’m here for you if you ever needed anything.”

You’re unable to stop your tears. The sound of your sobs is audible through the phone, and Abby's concern sharpens. “Are you okay?” she asks urgently, her voice tinged with worry. “I can hear you crying. What’s going on?”

You struggle to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself but failing. “I’m sorry, Abby. I—I didn’t mean for you to hear this. I’m just—” Your words dissolve into another wave of tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby says gently, her voice filled with compassion. “It sounds like you’re going through something really tough. Please, talk to me. What happened?”

Her genuine concern and the softness in her voice make it even harder to hold back your emotions. 

“Oh Abby… You’re so sweet…too sweet.” You struggle to say. “Sweet isn’t right for me, I’m…I’m a mess and I truly don’t want to ruin you too.”

“It’s okay, I like mess.” she tries to lift the mood, and you know she’s only saying this to avoid the upcoming rejection you’re preparing for her.

You shake your head, even though she can’t see you. “No, Abby, it’s not just that. It’s… I’m just not in a place where I can accept help right now. I can’t let anyone in.”

Abby’s voice falters slightly. “I just want to be here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

You struggle to hold back your tears, feeling a mix of guilt and sorrow. “I know you mean well, but I’m not ready for this. I don’t want to drag you into my mess. I need to figure things out on my own.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and when Abby speaks again, her voice is soft, “okay.”

Neither of you speak. So you end the call, you feel a pang of regret and sadness. Abby’s willingness to help and her genuine concern were more than you felt you deserved or could handle. 

Honestly, you hope that life fucks over Ellie. If you’re not her well-deserved lesson, then you hope someone else will be her worst lesson and make her bite her fingers with regret. Even if she comes back begging on her knees, you will never forgive her.

You just hope that Ellie Williams will burn in hell.

[nonstoplover]

sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young

summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.

words: 2.1K

warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3

a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.

big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.

"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.

(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.

Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.

When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.

Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.

This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.

The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.

Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.

He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.

It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.

He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.

But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.

With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.

A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.

He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.

Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.

As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.

He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.

Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.

Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.

Instead what he finds is a text. From her.

in a cab, be home soon &lt;3

Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.

Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.

It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.

Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.

"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.

"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."

His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.

"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"

"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."

His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.

"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.

So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.

Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.

By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.

He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.

[wileys-russo]

I just got done reading your fic ‘passenger princess’ and I would a another small fic of Y/n actually buying a car or she’s makes Alessia think bought one.

Instead she rented it out for the week and Alessia hates the fact that she doesn’t have her passenger princess. And instead she becomes one for the week and girl tease her about to.

(Please only write if you want!)

passenger princess ficlet II a.russo x reader

little follow up ficlet to the original fic here passenger princess ficlet II a.russo x reader

"-and you think this is a good idea given the fact you two spent an entire day at one anothers throats already. about this exact argument which shouldn't have even been an argument in the first place?" leah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as you nodded enthusastically.

"yes." you confirmed, the blonde sighing deeply. "i don't know how she puts up with you honestly, the poor girl deserves an award." your national captain shook her head, grabbing her empty lunch tray and standing as your jaw dropped. "leah!" you scoffed after her in offence, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff at her lack of support.

"you told her your plan?" lia chuckled, returning from the bathroom and watching the interaction as you nodded. "i thought she would be supportive but she basically told me i'm a terrible girlfriend and alessia deserves an award for putting up with me." you pouted at the older girl as you stood to join her.

"leah!" the swiss woman shoved the blonde who returned, swiftly glaring at the two of you. "what? she's a numpty and i personally am tired of having to pretend that she isn't an enormous pain in my side." leah shrugged as you again scoffed, launching at her and jumping on her back.

you clung on tightly as the three of you walked out of the lunch room and toward the gym for your final session of the day. "get off!" leah demanded trying to shake you but having no luck as you latched onto her.

"less help!" leah whined as your girlfriend entered the gym, laughing at something victoria said. "having to get someone else to fight your battles for you? some captain." you tutted, arm locked around leah's neck as the woman mumbled under her breath about how she wished she could drown you in the recovery pool.

"you either get off me right now or next camp i'll make you do hill sprints and burpees till you throw up." leah warned seriously as you rolled your eyes but dropped off her none the less, hurrying away toward your girlfriend before the older blonde could retaliate.

"partner up with me?" your girlfriend requested, pulling you into a warm hug as you nodded, flipping leah off over her shoulder as the blondes lips tugged into a smile and she turned away trying to hide it.

the older girl had been looking out for you for years and loved you like the younger sister she never had, so you knew she couldn't ever really stay mad at you.

"how was lunch?" you asked, laughing quietly feeling your girlfriend start to sway the two of you, refusing to let go of the tight hug you were sharing. "good, missed you though." she confessed, placing a discreet kiss to your neck and releasing you from her hold.

the two of you had made a pact to try and not spend every waking minute with one another at trainings, given the fact you lived together and were practically together almost every minute of each day you didn't want it to put any strain on anything now you were playing together as well.

"so i've been meaning to talk to you about something." you started, standing above the blonde spotting her as you all focused on upper body for the last twenty minutes of the session. "and now is a good time?" your girlfriend heaved as she racked the bar up and caught her breath for a moment, sweat beading at her forehead.

"it's nothing bad baby i promise." you chuckled as she reached back up for the bar again and nodded for you to add extra weight on. "are you sure?" you questioned, holding your hands up in a silent apology at the firm look she sent you, adding an extra 5kg onto each end at her request.

"go on then." alessia encouraged, reaching up for the bar as you helped her to lift it, watching carefully as she did her reps. "mm?" you hummed, distracted by the way her arms rippled and flexed as she pressed.

"what did you want to speak to me about love?" alessia smiled, knowing exactly what had you so distracted, the exact reason she'd added on weight being to impress you anyway, not that after years of dating she even had to try.

"i bought a car." you announced casually but suddenly, eyes widening as alessia's arms suddenly dropped, the bar landing on her neck with a loud thump as you hurried to help her lift it back up onto the rack.

"lessi are you alright?" you squatted down, hands on her leg and eyes shining with concern as the blonde struggled to catch her breath, waving away a few of the trainers who wandered closer to check on her.

"you did what?" alessia managed to spit out, eyes locked with yours as you bit your bottom lip. "i bought a car?" you smiled innocently, helping your girlfriend to her feet as the timers sounded for everyone to switch. "and exactly why have you gone and done that?" alessia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring down at you as you took a seat on the bench.

"because i can?" you shrugged, laying down and gesturing for her to remove some of the weight, everyone instructed to start light and add on with more reps completed. "you don't need a car though." alessia continued, doing as you'd asked as you lay down and waited.

"everyone with a license can find a need for a car less." you laughed, knowing you were already getting under her skin and you'd barely put your plan into action. "not girls who have girlfriends who drive them everywhere." alessia reminded as you grabbed onto the bar, lowering it and beginning your first set.

"i cannot believe you'd just go ahead and do this without running it past me." alessia shook her head, scowl set deep into her features. "what like you consulted me before dropping almost four grand on a bag?" you challenged, eyes flickering up toward her as you racked the bar again.

"okay firstly, that bag was for you. secondly thats different to buying a car! where did you get it? what did you get? when does it come?" the striker fired question after question at you, adding on more weight as you commenced your second set.

"i'm a financially independent woman alessia i can spend my money on whatever i want. and technically i told you last week i was going to buy a car!" you reminded with a smile, racking the bar and catching your breath for a moment, arms burning.

"i thought that was a joke! and i told you that you weren't allowed anyway." alessia huffed, bright blue eyes staring down at you filled with irratation as you simply smiled up at her.

"and when have i ever done what you've told me to?"

~

"you're seriously not going to tell me anything about it?" alessia scoffed, hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel of her own car as she drove the two of you home. "nope." you popped the p with a grin, changing songs.

"hey i liked that one!" alessia complained with a frown, you rolling your eyes and skipping back to it as she smiled. "soak it in though." you added on, tucking your knees up to your chest as the taller girl gave you a confused look.

"soon enough my love you'll be here and i'll be there." you teased, gesturing to her seat and yours causing the blonde to let out a loud sarcastic bark of laughter. "oh baby you must have gotten too much sun today, you're so cute." alessia pouted mockingly as she turned the corner into your street.

"am i?" you smirked as she pulled into your driveway, slamming on the brakes seeing an unfamiliar car already parked in it. "you bought that?" alessia spat out, edging forwards to pull in next to the unfamiliar vehicle as you hummed, unbuckling yourself.

"oh no no no no. no fucking way you're getting behind the wheel in that!" alessia scoffed as the two of you slid out of her car, the blonde popping her trunk and grabbing out your kit bags.

"i already have, had to test drive it first!" you winked, sauntering toward the front door as alessia hovered behind, eyes roaming the sleek black porsche panamera parked in the driveway.

"how did it even get here?" alessia questioned, following you inside and dropping your bags by the door as you sat down to take your trainers off. "well baby when a mummy car and a daddy car love each other very much they-" you started to explain, cut off as alessia threw her own shoe at your head.

"james picked it up for me and dropped it off while we were at training, he works at the dealership so they gave me a sizeable discount too." you grinned, standing and heading toward the kitchen to start dinner hearing alessia follow after you.

for the next half hour she fired question after question your way, and you'd done your research so you were able to answer everything without a moments hesitation, only angering the blonde further.

"i actually cannot believe you. i'm going for a shower!" alessia scoffed, pushing herself up and storming off toward your bedroom, the door slamming after her.

with an amused smile you grabbed your phone and clicked call, settling in in between your shoulder and your ear as you continued to prep dinner, your older brother eventually answering after a few rings.

"it's perfect." you grinned right away, hearing his chuckle on the other end of the line. "i know. but i was serious if there is even the essence of any sort of scratch or mark or dent on it i swear to god you're dead." he warned seriously as you rolled your eyes, moving to toss the peppers into a pan.

"yes i know james i will take extra good care of your baby, i promised didn't i? why does everyone think i'm such a bad driver? the only reason i don't drive is because less actually won't let me!" you huffed, glancing over your shoulder to confirm your bedroom door was still closed, shower running in distance.

"you're an evil evil little woman sometimes." your brother sighed though you could hear his smile through the phone, the two of you always being incredibly close despite your six year age gap.

"she needs to learn her lesson one way or another! she's lucky i didn't actually buy a car." you grinned, switching your phone to the other ear as you began to cook off the vegetables in front of you.

"remind me again why you didn't?" he sighed, having loaned you his car for the next two days after much much begging on your behalf. "i don't really need one. i quite like having her drive me round everywhere, not that i'd ever tell her that." you admitted with a shrug.

"then pray tell why all this drama and winding her up for?" "well because i'd still like to drive the mercedes every now and then, and she won't let me!" "and you think this will make her more inclined to let that happen?" "yes, yes i do." "i hope its nice in this land of grand delusion you live in, i'll come visit at christmas." "ha, ha, ha. hilarious!"

the two of you spent a little more time catching up, organizing that james would collect his car from you on sunday after the match, himself and his fiance coming to watch you play.

you glanced up as you heard the bedroom door open, bidding your brother a quick goodbye and another quiet assurance you would be careful before ending the call.

"dinner's nearly done baby." you called out, your girlfriend ignoring you as she retreated to the living room and you heard the tv click on, shaking your head at her immaturity as you left her be and finished up cooking.

"kiss for the chef?" you held out her plate a few minutes later, the blonde sending you a glare and taking her plate, settling it on her lap and tugging her hood over her head as you smiled and took a seat beside her, the two of you eating in silence bar the sound of the tv in front of you.

having washed everything up and showered yourself you decided you were done with receiving the silent treatment, standing right in front of your stubborn blonde lover with a smile. "move." alessia grumbled, kicking at you half heartedly as you blocked her view of the screen.

"you're not seriously going to be moody all night over this are you?" you laughed, raising an eyebrow as the blonde shuffled across, craning her head to watch the tv past you as you sighed. "get off." alessia ordered as you flopped on top of her, moving to straddle her lap, arms locked around her neck tugging her hood down as she tried to move you off of her.

"lessi baby come on, you're being immature." you warned, playing with the baby hairs on the back of her neck with a coy smile. you could tell she wanted to argue that but chose to remain silent, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back into the lounge trying to put some space in between you.

"you know you can't stay mad at me, you're not even really that mad." you whispered in her ear, knowing exactly how to get her attention back on you as you pressed your face into her neck, tugging on her earlobe teasingly with your teeth.

you heard a quiet huff and a mumble for you to stop but you shook your head, shifting on top of her and softly kissing her neck a few times. "come on baby, talk to me." you whispered, grabbing her hands and forcing them to uncross, settling them on your hips as you pressed your forehead to hers.

"i'm simply just too gorgeous to ignore." you grinned, watching as the striker bit down on her bottom lip, clearly trying to stifle her smile as she tried to remain stoney faced.

"you're really gonna let a pretty girl sit on your lap, kiss your neck and not even smile at her? that's just bad manners baby." you tutted with a smirk, hands grabbing her face and forcing her to look up at you.

"i'm not sorry i bought it but i'm sorry i didn't tell you." you spoke, pecking her lips repeatedly until eventually her hands squeezed your hips, pushing you away slightly. "come on, you know i'm gonna look good driving it." you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows as the blonde finally cracked.

"you are truly truly insufferable to be in love with sometimes you know that?" alessia sighed, her hands sliding up the inside of your top and pulling you in closer again as your head dipped and you latched your lips to the sweet spot of her neck just below her jaw.

the blondes breath hitched and her fingers dug in tighter to your hips as your teeth sank into the warm skin, tongue running over the fast forming hickey to soothe the sting as alessia's right hand flew to the back of your head, pressing your face into her neck with a quiet demand you keep going.

"maybe, but you're still in love with me anyway."

~

you glanced up from your phone hearing your girlfriend yell your name from the front door, hearing her footsteps thump toward you as you zipped up your kit bag. "where are my keys?" alessia demanded, bright blue eyes menacingly staring you down.

"your keys? baby would i know where your keys are?" you played dumb, knowing exactly where they were given you'd hidden them before going to bed last night.

"i am only going to warn you once. go and get them, and give them to me. now!" alessia warned, scarily calm. "my love i would but i don't know where they are. and if we don't leave now we're going to be late, and i don't really fancy running laps for that today, do you?" you smiled, stealing a kiss as she scoffed and you made a beeline for the door.

"and just exactly how are we getting to training then genius?" alessia questioned, grabbing her bag from the dining room table, sighing heavily as you turned to her, smug smile on your lips as you twirled your own keys around on your finger.

"i'm driving, passenger princess."

~

"i can't deal with this much longer. i'm driving home!" alessia growled as she flopped down in the chair beside you, ready for video debriefing for their upcoming match against Everton in a couple days time.

"no you are not. i'm not allowed to drive your mercedes? you're not allowed to drive my porsche." you smiled as she sent you daggers, wanting nothing more than to smack the smug look right off your face.

"hey russo do you need your missus to straighten your chair for ya too?" katie teased, harshly kicking the back of the girls chair causing it to swivel round as she settled in behind you both, alessia having been teased all day by your team mates about the fact she'd been demoted to passenger princess, most of them already keyed into our plan.

"fuck off macca." your girlfriend grumbled spinning around again as you sent katie a beaming grin, the irishwoman winking at you and ruffling alessia's hair, yanking her hand back as the girl lunged at her.

"so less, tell us a bit about your first experience being cuffed by your woman? how does it feel to lose your lady balls?" jen turned around from in front of you and asked holding out a fake micrphone in the blondes direction, and if looks could kill the scot would be ten feet under.

"alright alright lay off her would ya!" beth stuck up for her national team mate who sent her an appreciative smile.

"besides girls the world needs passenger princesses, there's no shame in switching sides." the older girl added on with a wicked grin as alessia groaned and buried her face in her hands, jonas and the training staff clapping for everyones attention.

the onslaught of teasing continued throughout the rest of the session, alessia resorting to throwing her headphones on over her ears as she stormed out of the change room.

"you need to put that poor girl out of her misery, this is enough!" lia warned, pinching your leg as you whined and leaned into leah on your other side who wrapped an arm round you.

"yeah you made your point mate, time to give her a break." the older blonde agreed with her work wife, kissing the side of your head affectionately before pushing you away and standing.

"give her a break? need i remind you its normally me being relentlessly teased by everyone? if its not for the passenger princess status its for something else she's dropped me in!" you huffed, tugging your spray jacket on.

"ah to be young and in love." leah sang out, patting your head and again telling you to come clean as lia agreed, causing you to sigh deeply as you followed them out of the change rooms and toward the parking lot.

hugging both older women goodbye you wandered to where your girlfriend stood beside your brothers car, sour look on her face and headphones slung around her neck as her eyes searched for you, finally spotting you walk toward her.

you didn't unlock it at first, making a point to gently nudge her out of the way, allowing you to open her door for her with a charming smile. "only the best passenger princess treatment for you baby." you gestured for her to get in as she sighed but remained silent as she slid into the car and you closed the door after her.

"oh god lessi please no!" you groaned as you pulled out of the lot, country music filling the car as alessia connected to the blue tooth. "passenger princess chooses the music baby girl." alessia smirked, making a point to turn it up louder and start singing along as you rolled your eyes.

after an insufferably western drive home you sighed in relief as you parked up in the driveway besides your girlfriends white merc, smacking her on the leg with a frown as she called out that she missed it today, blowing the car a kiss.

the moment both your feet crossed the thresh hold of your shared home, the door closed and you squealed as alessia roughly pushed you against it. "so where are my keys then?" the taller girl quirked an eyebrow, smile playing on her lips as her body trapped you against the door.

"what if i could tell you something even better than that?" you challenged, tilting your head to the side making her sigh lightly. "or, you just tell me where they are, now." your girlfriend requested again, hands slipping up your top, her palm pushing against your abs holding you even tighter against the wood behind you.

"okay. firstly, they're in the wardobe under the shoe rack." you started as alessia sighed, raising an eyebrow as you continued. "secondly; i didn't buy a car." you grinned, your girlfriend stepping away from you with a frown, following after you as you moved around her.

"what do you mean you didn't buy a car?" alessia questioned, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "i didn't buy a car." you shrugged and grabbed two protein smoothies out of the fridge, handing one to the blonde and pulling yourself up to sit on the counter.

"baby i'm going to need you to explain more than just those five words please." alessia sighed, moving to stand in between your legs. "that's not my car, it's james. he let me borrow it for a few days to teach you a lesson!" you smiled, taking a sip as alessia's jaw dropped.

"sorry, you what?"

"admit it, you didn't hate being a passenger princess and i look hot behind the wheel." you grinned, swinging your legs to and fro as your girlfriend looked on dumbfounded. "so let me check i'm following. that car, not yours?" alessia questioned as you hummed with a nod.

"alessia!" you laughed as she buried her face in your chest with a loud groan, the vibrating sensation somewhat ticklish. "thank god." the girl sighed, hugging you tightly as she remained bent over, her face pressed into your chest as you fondly carded your hands through her hair.

"you're not mad?" you smiled as she tilted her head up, chin resting on your sternum as she looked up at you. "oh i am furious, but also quite impressed? and a little bit dumbfounded that you managed that so easily." she sighed with a shake of her head, your hands still playing with her hair.

"never underestimate a woman scorned." you teased, your lips meeting hers in a tender kiss as alessia straightened up, arms wrapping around you, hands pressing into the small of your back and pulling your body as close into hers as she could get.

"but do you admit its not terrible to be a passenger princess sometimes?" you pulled away and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "its not terrible." alessia agreed as you grinned happily. "maybe i will give you some driving lessons in my mercedes, maybe." the taller girl agreed as your grin widenened.

"buzzin!" you mocked her thick accent causing her to pout. "i do not say that all the time!" she whined, head falling to your shoulder as your hand gently caressed the back of her neck.

"oh but my love, you really do." "if you only have the car till sunday i guess you can drive us to get breakfast tomorrow."

"buzzin!"

[funnylittlelad]

birdsong - steddie ficlet (-1.5k)

That time Steve got hearing aids.

Steve has been pissing people off for weeks and he knows it. He just doesn’t know what to do about it. It gets to the point where Dustin snaps at him for never paying attention to them. Steve starts to consider just leaving the country and starting new somewhere else. Somewhere it doesn't matter if he can hear who’s talking to him because he can't understand them anyways. He always thought Italy could be nice. Instead of running, he just shows up less. Both literally and metaphorically.

He starts bailing on more hangouts, figuring he won't be able to hear everyone so what's the point. When he is there he participates less in the conversation. He only engages when he’s really sure he can hear, which isn't a lot. It's mostly one-on-one or one-on-two. He doesn't think anyone notices, but they do. Eddie most of all feels Steve’s absence even when he’s sitting right next to him. He’s noticed the anxious tension in him when they're in groups. He just isn't sure what to do. So, he sits with a Steve-sized ache in his chest. There’s a day when the ache becomes too much, though, and Eddie breaks.

Steve sits in his living room with everyone strewn about. Eddie is next to him like he usually is unless Robin was already at Steve’s first. The kids lay and sit on the rug around the coffee table. Robin is on the other side of Eddie. Nancy sits with her legs tucked under her in a big armchair. The sound of conversation and life flows around him like a pebble in a stream. His edges have been smoothed so the water can move effortlessly, never catching on his surface. He can feel that there are words in the air around him, but there are too many other things around those words. Too much background noise and laughter. He can’t dig through it all in time to figure out what anyone is saying. So, he just stays silent like he has been. 

“He’s not listening again,” Dustin says frustratedly. 

Eddie frowns and looks at Steve. The movement catches Steve’s attention. He turns to look at Eddie with a small smile. Then he notices that it's more than just Eddie’s eyes on him. His blood runs cold and his throat dries.

“What?” He asks cautiously, eyes flitting to everyone else before landing on Eddie.

“Be honest, can you hear us?” Eddie answers Steve’s question with his own.

“I-”

“Be honest,” Eddie warns.

“No,” Steve sighs, “most of the time I can't really. I mean, I can hear you, but I can't tell what you're saying. It all garbles together like I’m underwater or something.”

“I think it's time to go to the doctor, Stevie,” Eddie says softly.

Steve frowns, but nods. There's a nervous twist in his stomach at the thought. He agrees to make an appointment the following day. Eddie hangs behind after everyone else leaves for a little bit. He does this sometimes and Steve’s never complained. Steve’s never thought about complaining. There's no surprise when Eddie gently grabs his hand either. He does that sometimes too. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Eddie asks. 

The question nearly makes Steve cry. He wants to cry so bad. He wants to cry because he misses being able to hear his friends. He wants to cry because he’s scared of what's going to happen to what's left of his hearing. He wants to cry because Eddie is standing here offering to go to his doctor’s appointment with him like he’s a child. Mostly, he wants to cry because he’s so fucking happy Eddie offered and he doesn't have to ask. Steve nods.

“Yeah, if you don't mind,” he answers with a slight waver in his voice. 

Eddie smiles all sticky and sweet at him. Steve silently wonders what he did to be worthy of a smile like that. 

“‘Course I don't mind. Just tell me when and where and I’m there,” Eddie promises.

And he was. Eddie drives Steve to the ENT on the morning of his appointment the next week. He sat in the waiting room until Steve was done, but the knowledge he was there was enough. It was the same thing when Steve was sent to the Audiologist two weeks later. Eddie sat in the waiting room patiently while Steve sat in a booth answering all sorts of questions and prompts. It doesn't really sink in until he sees Eddie stand from his chair. The knit of his brow tells Steve his face says it all.

“What’s the verdict?” Eddie asks. 

“They’ll let me know when to come in and be fitted for my hearing aids,” he sighs with a frown.

“That’s good!” Eddie smiles as they walk out of the office. 

“Good? Eds, I’m going to have hearing aids,” Steve scoffs.

“Yeah, which means you’ll, y’know, be able to hear,” Eddie points out. 

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Nope, no buts except yours in my van,” Eddie interrupts him and points to the passenger side as they approach the van.

Steve rolls his eyes with a small smile as he climbs in. 

“I just don’t feel like it's that bad,” he admits quietly as the van choked to a start.

“How bad did they say it was?” 

Steve remains silent for a beat as Eddie pulls out. He sighs and glances out the window at the building as they leave.

“I'm working with sixty percent of my hearing in one ear and seventy in the other,” he tells Eddie.

“Stevie,” Eddie breathes with a shake of his head, “If the doctors say these things will help you then they’re worth a shot. M’tired of you bailing out on things- yeah, I noticed.”

Steve’s face flushes at being caught like that. He exhales slowly and nods. 

“Okay,” he agrees, “I’ll give them a shot.”

A couple weeks later he’s called into the office for his hearing aids. Eddie is so quick to drop what he’s doing to go with him it nearly gives Steve whiplash. The sight of Eddie’s van pulling up gives a strange swooping sensation that he's grown used to around Eddie. The appointment itself takes around an hour. Then Steve is walking out fashioned with two white hearing aids hooked over his ears. His eyes are wide as they bounce to the television and then the clacking behind the desk. Eddie beams at him and stands. Steve looks beautiful so stunned. Hell, Eddie can admit that Steve just looks beautiful. 

“C’mon, Stevie, let’s go give’em a spin,” he says with a wolfish grin.

Steve laughs and nods. They don't get far, though. Once they step foot outside Steve comes to a halt. He makes a noise that's a cross between choking and a sob. Eddie’s hands fly to examine him for injury, but there is none. Steve’s lip wobbles, his face is blotchy and red, and his warm toffee eyes are trained on the tree a few feet away. Eddie’s mouth opens to ask, but then Steve’s eyes are on him like that. His eyes overflow with more emotion than Eddie knew a human could hold. 

“The birds,” Steve croaks. 

“What about’em?” Eddie’s brows furrow.

He glances accusingly at the little chirping finches in the tree. Steve chuckles wetly at the sight.

“I- I can hear them. It’s been so long- I didn't even realize,” Steve shakes his head, “I don’t know the last time I’ve actually heard the birds.”

Steve’s wonder-filled gaze turns back to the birds in question. He laughs again, heartier this time at the notion. He can hear birds. 

“Shit,” Eddie whispers to himself, “I’m so in love with you.”

At least he thought it was to himself. An hour ago it would have been to himself. Steve’s face whips around with huge eyes. His lips part slightly as he watches Eddie stunned. Eddie freezes, absolutely terrified. He’s so sure he just fucked it all up. 

“I can hear you too,” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat.

“Nah, pretty sure that was a bird too,” he attempts to joke it off. 

“I really hope not,” Steve frowns.

Eddie blinks hopefully.

“Really? Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you too.”

Safe to say, Steve is very happy he got hearing aids. 

Masterlist - beta read by @steveslilshorts

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Here's a crack Stobin idea

It's platonic Hanahaki by instead of puking flowers, it's migraines and mind reading.

***

After they're injected with the same experimental mystery drugs in the Russian spy bunker, Steve wakes up two days later with a killer headache.

Must be the concussion.

Except throughout the day it gets worse, worse than his migraines after his fight with Billy. He tries to go to sleep early, but the pain's so intense he seriously thinks his head might implode.

Does he call Robin?

They aren't what he'd call friends. But they survived torture together, so that has to mean something, right?

No, he decides. She's got her own problems and it's almost midnight.

He's up, can't sleep. At 6:30am he wraps an ice pack around his head and sits in a warm bath. At 7:30am he's throwing up water and bile. By 9am he's got a bloody nose and he's popped a blood vessel in his right eye. Just as he's about to pick up the phone, there's knocking on his front door that feels like a hammer to his skull.

Robin's on the front stoop, the front of her Fleetwood Mac sleep shirt covered in drops of blood and she's holding a wad of napkins to her face. She's crying and practically collapses into his arms.

The pain recedes so quickly he gasps. He didn't realize how difficult it was to breathe. The sharp stabbing behind his eyes is gone and it feels like he hasn't eaten in days.

Robin's still holding his shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes. She moves the napkins and even though her face is a mess of dried blood it's clear the bleeding has stopped.

"Steve, what's going on?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Her hand slips from his shoulder as he backs into the house, and suddenly the pain's creeping back in. It's minimal compared to before. Robin grabs his hand again and the pain recedes.

He looks up and she's staring at him wide eyed, mouth hanging open like a fish.

"I do not look like a fish!" Robin scoffs.

He didn't say that.

"Oh holy shit you didn't say that!" she practically screams at him.

She grips his other hand, squeezing them both tight as they stare into each other's panicked eyes.

Oh my god playing on loop between them, yet Robin's mouth isn't moving and he's pretty sure his is closed.

Can we read minds?

I have no idea Steven I've never done this before! You're the freaky stuff expert.

It's called the upside down Robs.

He's so bitchy.

I'm not bitchy!

"OK we have to stop this," Robin finally says. He knows she said it. He saw her mouth move and everything.

"Jesus I'm not sure I can handle your brain Harrington I've already got enough going on up here on my own."

"Yeah tell me about it," he replies as he thinks about her rambling about nothing for hours on end during shared shifts.

Robin sighs, squeezing his hands again as she scuffs her shoes on the white tile.

For what it's worth, I like your rambling.

A light smile ghosts her face. He always feels better when she's smiling, and that gets a wet chuckle from her as she wipes her teary eyes.

"Ok," Robin says, putting her game face on. "We're going to figure this out and I've got some ideas."

~~~

s4 follow-up ficlet

[meowmeowriley]

@sergeantwoods Sorry for the long wait, but here's the mer!AU

Think I'll call it Fish Out of the Sea

Ghost x Soap, blacktip reef shark mer!Soap, human Ghost, fluff, getting together (kinda)

Ficlet after the cut 😘

"No."

John sighed, he didn't seem surprised by Shepherd's hard rejection, but he kept trying. Simon had to give props to the fishing boat Captain. "You have the best mer rehabilitation facility in the country. It'd be a shame not to use it."

"You said you had a mermaid. That's not a fucking mermaid, John."

"I said I had an injured mer." He repeated himself from their earlier conversation.

"I'm not taking that thing into my facility."

"He needs help-"

"He's hideous, and aggressive." Shepherd barked. "That thing keeps lashing out, it'll scare patrons, attack my staff, and if that *thing* touches my mermaids, tries to mate with them, I'll have it put down."

"Mers are actually matriarchal, sir." The mer expert, Kyle, finally spoke up. "I've never worked with a shark mer before, but I do know he won't mess with Kate or Rosa, because they won't want him. Since they're together."

"Kyle. For the last time, the mermaids aren't lesbians. They're just fish." Shepherd was one of those who thought of mers as lesser than humans. Obviously.

Simon was standing near the door. No one had noticed him sneak in, but when he'd overheard that the mer was a shark variant, he'd needed to see it. Now, seeing the poor thing huddled in the corner of it's transport tank, curled in on itself, he felt so bad for it. He watched, any time someone went near it it flared out it's dorsal and pectoral fins. It would gnash it's teeth and charge the glass. All signs of aggression in a shark but... as soon as it finished its display it was right back to the furthest corner from the humans. It kept peeking at them over it's own shoulder when it thought they weren't looking. He quietly crept closer.

He took in it's markings, gray on it's back, white on its belly, black tips to it's fins. Claspers on its pelvic fins. A male blacktip reef shark then. His inferior end was all shark, something Simon was very familiar with, as he took care of all of the sharks here at the aquarium, several of them blacktips. His superior end, or top half, he supposed a visitor would (incorrectly) consider it, was new and interesting to him. Though he was vaguely humanoid, his skin was all two tones white and gray, like his tail. He had a wedge shaped snout in place of a human nose, a wider mouth with jagged teeth. Slitted eyes, and a black tipped fin atop his head that reminded Simon of a mohawk. Webbed gray and white hands with black claws rubbed up and down it's own arms in a self soothing gesture. One forearm had an odd angle to it, probably the injury that landed him here.

He retreated from the tank quietly before speaking, interrupting the squabbling of the other men. "He looks like a reef shark to me." Everyone else jumped. "Blacktip reef sharks aren't aggressive. Sure they can get a little iffy during feeding, but they're more curious than anything."

"He's been charging the glass, Ghost." Simon managed to suppress his eye roll at Shepherd's nickname for him. They all called him that here. "Fuck you mean 'not aggressive', you don't know mers."

"No, but I know sharks. He's injured, and defensive. You ever think he doesn't like us because it was something shaped like us that broke his arm?" John winced, he obviously felt bad about it. Not like he could've know he'd caught the mer in his net, but it was nice to see some accountability from a fisherman for once.

"Well we can't communicate with him, so he'll stay scared and defensive." If Simon didn't love the sharks, he would've left this place a long time ago because Shepherd was an absolutely abrasive cunt.

"Kate and Rosa can. And their English is excellent." Kyle spoke up again. "We have them pass on the message of our intentions, and Ghost and I tag team his rehabilitation." Of course he uses the dumb nickname too. "It's the perfect plan! And an incredible opportunity to be one of two aquariums to actually work with a shark mer. The novelty of something so rare will bring in patrons." Kyle was really leaning into Shepherd's true interests here, bringing up money.

Shepherd was quiet for a moment and then, "If anything happens, you're both fired." He then stormed out of the room.

"Thanks, Gaz."

"Of course, Cap."

Now the three of them had to get the shark mer into an appropriate tank.

***

They had initially tried to put him in with the other mers, but he'd seen the sharks in the tank across the hall and told Kate he wanted to be with his own kind. That would make Simon's job easier, anyway. Kate had explained that they needed to put a cast on his arm, and Rosa had wrestled it onto him, since the humans couldn't get too close. They decided to name him John, after Captain Price, calling him Johnny affectionately. Gaz explained to Ghost that part of rehabbing Johnny would be gaining his trust, teach him to communicate. To release him without a way to communicate could lead to him attacking humans and being a problem down the road.

Simon had a plan: ignore him. He was a reef shark, his own curiosity would get him to open up. It took a week.

Simon would feed his sharks from a catwalk above their tank, for safety reasons, dropping their food in in the mornings before they opened their doors. No need to scare any children. For the first week, any time he passed by, Johnny would posture aggressively and gnash his teeth, before snatching up his food and swimming off. When Ghost would gear up and go in the water for his evening shows, Johnny stayed far away. At night, Gaz and his mers would move over and Ghost would mostly just observe as the girls tried to teach Johnny how to speak, and he petulantly ignored them, with a little pout on his face as he refused to even make eye contact with them. It was cute.

The first time he tried to speak was also the first time Simon saw him raise his head above the surface. He seemed frantic. "HAAAH!" He startled a bit at what was most likely the first time he ever used his lungs to breath air. "HAAAAH! AH! YAAH!" he was waving with his good arm. Stretching it out towards the platform between his tank and that of the other mers, thrashing his tail with his fins tucked in. Very distressed. Simon went to check, to see what could possibly be bothering him so much, when he found their elusive fourth mer. Simon had only seen Gary once. Gaz called him Roach, because he hid in the tiniest cracks in the reef in their enclosure, why on earth the isopod mer was on the platform, and not in the water, was beyond him, but he couldn't let the poor thing suffer. He had several of his little legs caught in a grate. Simon spent some time disentangle him. He tossed the infant sized mer into the nearest tank, which happened to be the shark tank, with Johnny. The larger mer immediately dove to catch him. He stroked Roach's antennae back like one would the hair of a small child, a soothing motion. Clearly not as much of a loner as he pretended to be. From then on the little isopod mer could be found clinging to Johnny's sides or fins with his many little periopods more often than not. After that, it seemed that Gary encouraged Johnny's more curious side. The mer's language was mostly outside of the human range of hearing, but Simon occasionally caught clicks, whistles or hums shared between the two.

Simon had left a bucket with soap close to the edge once, the two mers were clearly curious about it, but he didn't think anything would come of it. Which is why it was such a surprise when Johnny stuck a webbed hand in and scooped some out, popping it immediately into his mouth. Simon knew it wasn't enough to harm him, which is why he couldn't help but laugh at the poor creatures misfortune as it sputtered and writhed, making bubbles. While laughing he let his guard down, and was surprised when something struck him, knocking him off the catwalk and into the tank. He opened his eyes and looked around, seeing only Roach, floating downward, listing side to side, tiny head in his tiny hands. He surfaced to see Johnny. "Did you just throw him at me?!" Johnny sunk down so only his eyes and cranial fin were above the water. The little shit. "Not cool, Soap!" He forced his palm out towards the mer, sending a spray of water its way. That seemed to really break down the mer's walls.

Johnny started approaching while Simon would try and clean the tank. At first, darting away if Simon caught sight of him. Eventually however, he would get closer and simply observe. He'd watch Simon work at cleaning the glass or vacuuming the sand at the bottom. It was fun to see shark behavior and mer behavior collide. If Simon sat something down, Johnny would pick it up, and without a doubt if he could get it in his hands, it would end up in his mouth.

There was a small crowd, a child's birthday party had been held over by Gaz's mer tank, the girls were always a hit with the kids, and the little show they put on with Gaz was actually pretty funny. They'd harass him as he pretended to try and do his chores. Slapstick comedy was good for all ages.

Simon had his own show with his sharks, but it wasn't for a few more hours. He was actually just trying to clean. Apparently his cleaning sponge had caught Johnny's attention, as the mer had swam up and was watching him intently. He kept inching forward, eventually crowding Simon against the glass while reaching for his sponge. "Oi!" He said into his respirator, not that anyone could hear him. He shoved Johnny away and kept trying to cleaning, but the persistent bastard just kept coming back. He could vaguely see the crowd observing them through the glass. They were probably laughing. When he'd had enough, he got an idea. He turned when Johnny got close again and placed one hand on his dorsal fin and the other on the underside of his snout. He began to rub at the sensitive underside of the mer's snout, and just like his sharks, the mer entered a state of tonic immobility. He repositioned Johnny, nose down tail to the surface, Johnny's arms hung limply down past his head. Simon quickly withdrew his hands and watched as the mer continued to float for a bit, before blinking vigorously. He shook his head before righting himself, and slapped his tail into Simon's chest as he practically fled to his little cave at the other end of the tank. When he surfaced later, Gaz informed him that the kids were raving about how cool the 'shark guys' were.

Simon had to admit that Johnny was growing on him. He looked forward to seeing him each day. Johnny began trying to get Simon to swim with him. He'd grab Simon's arms and try to pull him into the water when he was on land, or he'd push Simon away from the glass and his cleaning supplies, towards the open water. Sometimes Simon would indulge him, and the two of them would make laps around the tank.

Simon realized, when Johnny began posturing towards the sharks and getting territorial about him towards them, that Johnny was attempting to court him. Worse, he couldn't bring himself to try and put an end to the behavior either. Johnny was getting touchy, he'd run his hands along Simon's sides or chest, in much the same way Simon would to per his sharks, but it felt different. He would push Simon until he floated horizontally in the water, then drape himself across the man.

Simon knew he was getting himself into some deep shit, but he couldn't help the small voice in the back of his head that urged him to reach out, to cradle the mer's rubbery cheeks in his hands. He wanted to kiss him. He was fucked.

***

I hope you liked it! Ngl, I really liked this one. If you don't mind, I might expand on this and make it a multi-chapter fic over on AO3? I wanna explore more of society's reaction to mers, specifically interspersed relationships and where this could go. Let me know what you think, and thanks for the idea!

[tgmsunmontue]

Hangster ficlet. Mature 500 words I guess. 🤷‍♀️

The movement doesn't register as anything more than a rocking motion of whatever carrier or transport he's on.

He's so fucking tired.

But he's horizontal and warm and naked, all signs that tell him he's actually at home in bed and he shifts slightly. 

Immediately the rocking stops and he smiles slowly into the darkness of the room, doesn't move again, keeps his breathing even and pretends to be asleep.

After a few moments the rocking motion resumes and he bites his lip in amusement because Jake is very clearly awake.

He's far too tired to participate, his mind might be willing, but his body is very definitely in denial about being dragged back into consciousness after not even two hours of sleep.

But he hadn't wanted to wait any longer before coming home and falling into bed beside Jake, not even drying himself properly after his very brief shower.

He's thinking about Jake, his body pressing and flexing against his, and while he's not there physically he is definitely there mentally and he reaches a hand out, feels Jake's body still immediately.

"Shit. Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up..."

"Don't need to say sorry. Not a bad way to be woken up at all. I'm not complaining." 

"You going to help?"

"No. Too tired. Want to watch though..."

"Ohhh..."

"Mmm," Bradley agrees, because he's well aware of Jake's little exhibionist streak, the crack in the curtain letting in just enough early morning sun to provide a warm hazy half-light and he shifts close, presses himself against the length of Jake's back, nuzzles his mouth against the curve of skull and kisses, gets a mouthful of hair for his troubles. 

"You thinking about fucking me while you get yourself off?"

"Yeah. Of course..." Jake groans, and his hips are rolling against the mattress and Bradley kisses down his neck, over his shoulder, rocks his own body in time with Jake's to urge him on.

"You didn't think to just see if maybe I was up for it?"

"You've been gone for months. You're useless to me until you're properly rested. I am going to fuck you for hours."

"Mmm. I look forward to it," Bradley says, and part of him is glad he gets this, can feel the warm comfort of Jake's arousal and his building desperation to get off all while his own body is so starkly uninterested in the proceedings.

It's a novel feeling.

He gets to enjoy Jake's arousal, his body, focus on the feeling of his muscles flexing against him where they're pressed together, think about what he can say and do that will tip Jake over the edge.

It's good to be home.

[cha-melodius]

Okay, there are a few on this list that would be very interesting but I thought this one could be fun for firstprince! 💜

Thank you for this, friend!

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss (another one just over my self-imposed limit, oh well lol. I got a few of these purple hearts and so we'll get various iterations. here's a canon divergence one! send me a heart and get a ficlet)

This is not how he thought tonight was going to go.

Not the falling into the cake part. Obviously no one could have predicted that. No, the part that really surprised him was Henry’s reaction in the moment, how the shove that Alex thought was pushing him away was actually Henry putting himself between Alex and the toppling cake. How Henry had curled protectively over the top of him, shielding Alex from the excessive weight and the wooden structure within it.

How, in the heart-stopping silence that followed, he’d stared up at blue, blue eyes—not haughty or irritated but concerned, like Alex was something important to him, something to be protected—with Henry’s body pressed to his from hip to chest, and had the sudden and insane urge to kiss those full, pink lips hovering so close to his.

He didn’t, of course. Then again, maybe it’d have distracted everyone from the cake fiasco.

Now, though—now that they’ve both been shoved in some side room and told to wait here for whatever hell is about to rain down on them, buttercream and cake still coating their tuxes and clumping in their hair and smeared on their skin—now he can’t stop fucking thinking about it.

It doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s just a weird intrusive thought that won’t go away, like the way he wants to lick that streak of buttercream off Henry’s cheek. Everything is so fucked up that he’s having a mental breakdown. That must be the explanation.

“Why’d you do that?” Alex asks instead as he desperately searches for some of the familiar animosity he’s used to when dealing with Henry.

Henry frowns at him. “Do what?”

“Shield me like you were some kind of bodyguard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henry huffs, looking away as his cheeks turn faintly pink. “If I did, it was subconsciously and I haven’t a clue why.”

Nah, Alex doesn’t believe that for a second. Well, maybe the subconscious part, but Henry absolutely knows why. “Bullshit,” he says, stepping forward into Henry’s space to force Henry to look at him again. “No one puts themselves in harm’s way for someone they hate.”

“I’ve never hated you, Alex,” Henry sighs. “You’re the one who’s always seeking me out to antagonize me. Who can’t leave well enough alone. You’re the one who—”

Something in Alex snaps. Before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out with both hands to grab Henry by the lapels, crumpling the fine fabric of his tux in his sticky fists, and hauls him in. Crushes their mouths together in a furious kiss that tastes of sugar and regret. Because that’s exactly what Alex feels when it happens, when Henry’s already-open mouth goes further slack in shock, when he realizes he just kissed a prince out of nowhere and is probably gonna get locked up in the Tower of London.

Alex jerks back, though he doesn’t let go of Henry’s lapels. Some kind of self-preservation instinct, probably, to keep Henry from decking him. Henry stares at him, his pink mouth still open and tempting—fuck—as his wide eyes rove all over Alex’s face.

“—who kissed me,” he breathes at last, an odd note of wonder in his voice.

Alex winces. “Fuck, I didn’t mean—”

Then Henry’s hands are in his hair and gripping the back of his neck, dragging Alex back in, and oh. Oh.

Henry’s kissing him back, and he likes it.