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#kinda angsty to be honest
blackberry-s0da · 2 months
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Mercy waiting for me to give him any sort of story that doesn’t involve him lingering naked in an invisible background
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54625 · 14 days
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people can keep coming up with angsty headcanons about why qPac passes out (crashes) so much- like he's got low blood pressure from not eating properly or he's exhausted from not sleeping properly- and I accept that
but to me he's just that one character in a kids movie that keeps getting injured as a gag. like he's just constantly tripping over roots and whacking his head off the ground, birds just constantly seem to drop rocks specifically on his head, people just keep inexplicably slamming doors into his face without realising it. qPac is just such a cartoon character to me I'm sorry
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dois-funnyzone · 6 months
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this might be my favorite double-page spread i’ve made in my current sketchbook so far. i didn’t even intend this but wooowwzers
don’t mind xane being upside down, i had a vision but it was not as cool as i thought it was
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buttercup-barf · 1 year
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I like to think all "AU's" are just different life cycles. Characters die, and they are reborn in a new world, but their core appearance and identity may not even change, but, of course, no matter how they may be tethered to someone, their memories will vanish, and they'll have to rebuild what they had from square one.
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These three got lucky. In the final cycle, an eternal one, they become Honour, Yakob and Sir/Sire, each immortal in a different way.
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Honour retained all the memories from her past lives for once, so the second she popped into existence as some weird out-of-bounds entity, she was already kind of. Drained. Just from the memories of how many time their two most cherished beings in the world died. They tried being a bit more secretive about everything to avoid overwhelming the other two with information,
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But it just resulted in Sir, an ethereal guardian of humanity made to defeat demons, misinterpreting her actions and behaviour in the worst way possible. Honour just came off as some weird cryptic Devil here to wreck shop.
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Sire still means well, he was originally just me going "What if Shilo was in Twinsomnia's canon?", so the desire to protect humanity is strong with this one. Upon meeting Yakob, a runaway robot-automaton-construct-whatever that was literally indestructible, they became the metal man's first friend and guide to the new world.
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They're both the same kind-hearted dorks as they were in the past, and they stuck together, trying to uncover whatever the Hell was Honour's secret evil plot. Of course, there was no evil plot, but she was happy that at least those two reunited, and quickly returned to the kind of dynamic only she'd remember.
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Thankfully, after some shenanigans, they do ens up figuring their shit out, Sir and Yakob also get the past memories back, so now they're vibing as a nice little reassembled polycule of immortals. Good for them!
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a-jynx · 5 months
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care to stay? (astarion x reader)
i'll let you guess, it's kinda angsty!
warnings; a lot of blood talk, injuries, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst to keep it spicy, and maybe some ooc astarion! enjoy!
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Sharp whines pierced your skull, licking at the contents inside as your eyes twitched open. Squinting at the ache in your thundering bones, you slowly rolled onto your back, sitting up onto your elbow with a groan.
What in the Hells happened...? Pushing up with your shaking limbs, you staggered, falling into a cracked and crumbling wall. Squeezing your teeth that caused a dull ache behind your jaw. Glancing around, you watched as the flames flickered and danced among the rubble. The crumbling surface around you reeked of smoke powder and copper, along with the putrid stench of smoked flesh. Swallowing thickly at the dirt that coated your throat, you gripped your side while stumbling through the scattered bodies. Flashes rippled through your groaning and thrumming mind.
Your party. Your brain scattered, thinking of everyone within the walls. Shadowheart, Gale, Karlach... Astarion.
Goblins had ambushed you. Shadowheart and Astarion were busy trying to keep them off of you and Gale, whilst Karlach had gone into her fit of rage.
The smoke powder barrel. You remember shouting as the Goblins fire arrow whizzed past your lot, your eyes wide as you all ran towards the exit as the explosion boomed.
Groaning, you dragged your feet through the clutter, your boots catching on jagged stones and the thick, blackened goop of blood stuck to your boots like sap. Swaying towards another door, it's once oak colored darkened from the blast, a handprint of blood smeared across the handle. Wetting your lips, you drew your dagger and shouldered through, only to sigh as you spotted Karlach helping Shadowheart with Gale's wounds.
"My Gods," Karlach laid Gale back against the bed, quickly moving towards you as you stumbled into her hold, not caring about the sizzling as she moved you towards the other bed. "Solider, are you alright? You took the blunt of the blow, if I'm being honest, I'm shocked yet thrilled to see you alive."
You winced away from the burning sensation as your back met the soft, yet dirt-covered mattress. "Thank you, Karlach," your voice rasped, soot still coating it and resting among the blood in your teeth. "Where's Astar-"
"He went to find-"
You jumped as the door slammed open. "I can't find them anywhere! There's more goblin guts and d" his voice staled when his eyes landed on your shaking figure, Karlach's hand still hovering over. "By the Hells! Watch where you're aiming those torches," he hissed, moving to the other side of the bed, his arms over his chest as Karlach rolled her eyes.
"They're fine, Astarion, they're our fearless leader, remember?" Her comment held bite as you winced, searing pain rippled through your melting mind. Astarion's lips moved to speak, his eyes glanced towards you as he gently gasped. Blood leaked from your ears, decorating the mattress and your hair below. Eyes clenched shut as you gritted your teeth, more pain shooting through as if your jaw would splinter.
"Heal them now, dammit!" Astarion shouted as Shadowheart finished healing over Gale, who slowly sat up in bed, groaning and clenching his shoulder. The cleric moved quickly, her hands already glowing a crisp, bright blue before laying them on your temples. More searing caressed your aching skull, yet this time it felt calming. Like that of an animal licking at its wounds. Soothing. Your body shook, feeling the bond shake and mend within your soup-like mind. The sharp whines became whimpers of your own voice. A gasp ripped through your burning throat as the crackle of your rib mended itself back into place.
"Is it working? Will they be alright?" Karlach stood closer to Shadowheart as she sighed, her fingers began to shake. She was growing weak...
"I'm not sure how much more I have in me-"
"You'll continue to heal them until Avernus freezes over if it'll help them," Astarion snipped, one of his hands had moved amongst the blood and dirt, caressing your fingers in a way of saying 'I'm here'. Your chest clenched as a blood-curdling scream wretched through your throat, rattling your still bubbling mind. Shadowheart grimaced, yanking her hands back with a shout, her hands stung with a rose-like red blistering her palms. Karlach gently caressed Shadowhearts' armored shoulder and moved towards Gales' bed, who stood in shock. Astarion had moved to sit on the bed with you, his arms holding onto your shoulders as you shook and cried out.
Her healing had worked, but its' effects worked through each injury like a professional seamstress. Weaving through your veins, smothering in and over your bones' marrow, and licking at your popped eardrums and rattled brain damage from within. You withered in Astarion's grasp, shaking as tears streaked down your dirty cheeks. "I- I tried to save us," your voice shook. Astarion frowned, his thumb brushed against your skin. "Just rest, darling.." His voice was a gentle whisper, his cool skin pressed against your sweat-covered skin. Sighing against his chest, your eyes fluttered close. The soot and dirt caused a soft grimace, yet there was a comforting scent hidden amongst it.
*******
You blinked awake, wincing as you slowly sat up from the bedroll beneath you. "What the Hells," you winced more at the sound of your gravel-like voice. Humming, you took in your surroundings. Soft pillows and carpets surrounded you, a gentle candlelight flittered within the bright red tent. Goosebumps travelled up your skin as you glanced down, noticing your tunic missing and dull-white wrappings secured around your ribs. Crimson blossomed across the wrappings causing you to frown.
Jumping as the tent flaps opened, revealing Astarion with a bowl and prime white wraps resting across his forearm. His movements paused, your eyes met as he sat the bowl down and moved towards you, grabbing your flushed cheeks and slamming your lips together. You gently moaned into the kiss, flinching at pain that shot through your side. "Thank the Gods you're awake," he mumbled against your lips, resting his forehead against your own. "I thought you were gone..." His voice lower, barely a whisper.
With a smile, you rested your jaw against his rough palms, relishing in the callouses he's gained over your time together. "And leave you all alone with Gale? I couldn't." You couldn't fight back the grin as he rolled his eyes, leaning back on his calves and helping you lay back against the cot. "Because you know he'd be insufferable for me to endure alone," he smiled gently, brushing your hair from your eyes. Sighing, you leaned further into the bedroll, Astarion reached back and grabbed the bowl, dipping the piece of cloth into the cool water and dabbing it against your sweltering forehead.
"How're the others?"
"They're fine, we need to worry about getting you back to proper health, my dear," he hummed, dropping the rag back into the bowl. His fingertips dragged gently over your ribs, watching as your body jumped from the soft touches. Your brows furrowed, gently grabbing his flittering touches. "Star... Please,"
"They're alright, my love, I promise.." He sighed, gently undoing the wraps and frowning at the snarled wound. The blast had cut through your flesh like butter. Soot and dirt had embedded itself into your wound and clung to your hanging flesh, it had caused him to cringe inward at the sight of your gnarled flesh. He worked quickly, dabbing the wet cloth against the charred skin, sighing as you flinched away. Wrapping the new bandages, he sat back while wringing out the blackened and bloodied rag. "And how're you...?"
The water dripping ceased as his lips pressed into a tight line, the rag dropped next to your arm as you pushed up onto your elbows. "Star..?" You frowned, rolling onto your non-injured side as he turned towards you, his hand cupped your jaw as you reached up, catching his with a sigh. Tears brimmed his ruby colored eyes. "I thought we lost you when you fainted. There was just... So much blood. Your blood mixed with that dirt and soot, and I couldn't-" His voice caught, choking in his throat as he shook his head. "The mere scent of your blood mixed with such retched things; it made my stomach churn. Caused the bile to claw up my throat."
You stared at Astarion - you both had found safety in one another. Trust had built quickly with how many battles you both had gotten into together, the stories shared amongst with goblets of wine, confiding in one another when everything seemed hopeless. And of course, with your shared comfort came... Feelings.
Astarion hated it.
He wasn't supposed to fall for you, it was the simplest plan for him to follow, yet here he was. On the verge of crying while he coddled you close, his fingertips ghosting over your new bandages. Gently wrapping your arms around him, you tugged him down to the bedroll, racking your fingers through his thick, white curls. You shared a comfortable silence as he wrapped his arms around your chest, as carefully as he could, his hands still trembling. You fitted yourself against his chest, sighing while twisting a wild curl around your finger.
"You can touch me, my Star, I'm not made of glass-"
"No, but you need your rest... I should go-"
"Please... I don't want to be alone," you murmured into his shirt, tightening your arms around his waist as he moved to leave. Blinking, his hands hovered over your shivering skin. His lip slightly trembled before he swallowed thickly. "Ask me to stay," his voice shook as you squeezed him close, feeling your own tears well up. He believed he would hurt you more than help you. "Ask me to stay, and I will." Leaning up onto his chest, you leaned up and pressed a tight kiss to his lips.
Your mouths moved together. Teeth and tongue clanking and grinding against each other. Astarion's hands settled on your hips, soft circles tugged at your loose pants, his nails scrapping by the edge of your bandages. A gentle shudder ran through your bones as you maneuvered yourself on top of his lap, gritting your teeth to keep the pained moan buried in your throat. Pressing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, his lips trailed down your throat to the scarred bite mark. Your body moved gently against his lap, rolling circles into his hips before he rolled you off of him, chest heaving.
"Astarion, wait,"
"We're... Resting." His voice slightly wavered, his nails gently digging into your shoulders before he moved to lay beside you. Tugging your body closer, smothering his nose into your hair, deeply inhaling as you wrapped your arms around his chest.
"When you're not constantly bleeding," his voice muffled as you rolled your eyes. His fingers gently pinched at your thigh. "Then, we'll have all the fun you deserve, my darling."
*****
You awoke to quiet murmuring - distant, gentle - as if not wanting to break the silence the moon had brought on. Lighting your pinkie, you moved to light the candle beside your bedroll, only to jump when a pair of arms tightened around your waist.
Astarion's body quivered against your own, his arms tightened. You cringed at the pain shooting through your body, but gritting your teeth, you turned over as much as his grip would allow. Grasping his shoulder, you gently shook the somewhat whimpering elf.
"Astarion, honey, wake up." You murmured into the air, huffing as he released your waist, one arm slipping from around you as it grasped at his tunic, tugging on the slightly tattered tunic. "My star, please," his fangs dipped into his bottom lip, blood dribbled from the nibbled skin. "Astarion, wake the hells up!" You shook him more, ignoring the searing pain as his claw-like nails dug into your skin. His eyes snapped open; a gasp choked through him as tears leaked down his cheeks.
Elvish ripped through his lips before he could even comprehend the words his tongue spilt. Your eyes widened, quickly setting up on your knees, both hands grasping his sticky cheeks. "Astarion, my love, breathe, please." Grasping one of his shaking hands, you placed his palm against your heaving chest, your heart beating heavily. His eyes caught yours, more tears leaked past your hands as you rubbed your thumb against his cheeks. "Breathe, my Moon, follow my rhythm."
His hands trembled against your skin, slowly his eyes blinked as he seemed to finally focus on your eyes. Swallowing thickly, he licked his lips and slowly reached up, locking his hands through your locks. Astarion tugged you into his body, his hands shook as he held you close. His breathing shook as he tightened his grip, making you whimper in his hold.
"Astarion, are you alright... Do you need a minute?" Your voice was low, attempting to keep the peace within your shared tent. You held each other close, gentle kisses caressed his skin as he leaned further into you. "Ask me to stay, and I will." You murmured into his hair, cradling him further into your body. You wanted to shield him away from everything. The fear and anger that tries to eat away at him. He looked up, slowly leaning back, but keeping his hold on you. Astarion licked his lips slowly, a shaking sigh passed through him as he moved to hold your cheeks.
"Care to stay?"
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brickmvster · 2 months
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please don't go (i'll eat you whole) | Leon Kennedy x Reader
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synopsis: You make love to Leon before he leaves you.
word count: 1,906
warnings/tags: leon kennedy x fem reader, established relationship, smut with feelings, angst, pre-spain or just pre-mission in general, some light fluff if you squint kinda (i'm sorry), p in v sex/penetrative sex, unprotected sex, aftercare
author's note: i'm gonna be honest. i am a little nervous. more so than usual bc this is my first time writing for leon! i love him so much, he's definitely one of my comfort characters, and i wanted to write something angsty but also kinda bittersweet like this for a loooong time and i finally got around to it. i really hope you guys enjoy, comments are always appreciated <3 this has been proofread more than once, but just in case, any and all mistakes are mine! also, just fyi, i wrote this with re4r leon in mind, but you can imagine whichever leon floats your boat if you really want to lol.
p.s. it's not written in here but pls pee after sex 😭
minors do not interact, please and thank you!
You clung to him for dear life; as if he was going to disappear in front of your very eyes.
You were above him, peering down into his deep eyes. His eyebrows were knitted together in pleasure and his lips, which were currently rosy and swollen after the frequent kisses you had given them, were ever so slightly parted as soft groans emerged from his throat. His large hands never stayed still for longer than a minute – he gripped your waist before sliding them down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh before moving them up toward your breasts, squeezing gently, before bringing them back to your waist, where he helped with guiding your languid movements. You moved your hips like an expert, riding him as if you’d never have the chance to again.
With the rain pattering against the window and a sliver of moonlight filtering through the room, it was almost like a scene from an erotic novel. The room carried the scent of sweat and sex and was filled with the noises that spilled from your lips non-stop. You didn’t even know how much time had passed – but you knew it was late. You knew Leon had to be up in the morning. But you wanted to prolong this moment with him for as long as possible. Leon wanted to as well, as every time he got you close to your peak, he slowed down, dragging out your orgasm in a way that was almost painful, but you enjoyed every second of it.
You were growing tired, your legs beginning to shake as your rhythm became a bit off-kilter.
“Leon…” You moaned, his name coming out so softly it almost wasn’t audible. But Leon, ever so attentive, heard you loud and clear, and he knew what you were trying to tell him.
He flipped you over with ease, while he was still inside of you, spreading your legs further apart and starting up a steady pace. All you could do was grip the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he drilled into that spot that made you see stars. He wasn’t aggressive or rough, but his thrusts were certainly hard-hitting and relentless, and you knew you only had a few minutes.
At some point, you closed your eyes as you tried to focus on your impending orgasm, feeling as if you were in a complete haze – but Leon’s voice pierced through your foggy mind.
“Please look at me.” He said, his low voice sounding a bit strained and even a little desperate; who were you to deny him of what he wanted?
It took a momentous amount of effort, but eventually you were able to open your eyes and keep them open, looking up at him. Leon lowered himself a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. The slightly different position made his thrusts feel even deeper, and you cried out into his neck, your fingers going into his shaggy blonde hair.
“Keep looking at me. Please.” He said softly, and so you did, maintaining eye contact with him the best you could as he continued to piston his hips into you. Suddenly, Leon was becoming blurry; you could feel the wetness on your face as tears began to fall. Leon often made you cry during sex – he was a fucking god in bed after all and usually made you feel so good that he’d leave you sobbing from the intense pleasure after multiple orgasms. And while that was definitely the reason you were crying now, you also knew that there was an underlying reason for your tears. Leon knew the other reason, too.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He asked you sweetly, still keeping up his quick pace. All you could do was nod fervently, digging your nails into his back. He always loved when you did that.
“Yeah? My sweetheart is gonna cum for me?” He urged, and the pet name that rolled off of his tongue only made matters worse.
“Fuck, Leon–please, give it to me.” You said, your voice trembling. You felt all of the telltale signs. There was a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, ready to pop like a balloon. Leon could sense this, could hear it in your voice and could feel it in the way your pussy was squeezing around his cock. He raised himself just a bit, lowering his hand down between your legs, using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motions while he continued thrusting.
Leon’s name emerged from your throat so loudly that you even drowned out the rain. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back rising off the bed in a beautiful arch, your climax hitting you in waves. You felt like you were in heaven, the tears falling even more freely from your eyes now. Leon just ogled at you like you were a work of art. In his mind, you were.
He was also close, and mere seconds after your orgasm his own came crashing down on him too. With a few more sloppy thrusts he found himself stilling inside of you, his release filling you to the brim. The feeling of being so full of him was one that you would never grow tired of.
Eventually, you came down from your peak, your limbs feeling like heavyweights. All you could do was lay there and cry some more, letting every single emotion overtake you completely, your sobs shaking your entire body. Leon was comforting you in an instant, pulling out gently and lying next to you, allowing you to bury your head into his chest. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, with Leon cradling your head and rubbing your back.
You did calm down after some time passed, and that’s when Leon tried to get up, but you clung to him again.
“Please don’t go.” You said, your voice small and hoarse. “Don’t go, Leon, please.”
“I just wanna clean you up, okay?” Leon replied, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. You didn’t even care that his cum was leaking out of you and making your thighs a mess – you just wanted him to stay by your side. But you knew he was just trying to take care of you, so you reluctantly released him.
Leon kissed your cheek before getting off the bed and going to the bathroom. While you waited for him, you tried to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to sleep, because falling asleep meant that morning would come quicker, and truthfully you didn’t want the morning to come at all. You knew it would be coming no matter what, though – but goddamn it, you tried to prolong it the best you could, even when your eyelids were growing heavier by the second.
Leon came back, now clothed in his boxers (that you didn’t even notice he had thrown back on), a small washcloth in hand, and a glass of water that he set on the bedside table. He pushed your legs apart yet again and wiped you clean, touching you so gently as if you were some kind of porcelain doll. It only made your heart grow fonder. You were going to miss these moments of tenderness.
He made you sit up, just enough so you could drink the water that he had prepared for you. You took a small sip, to which Leon encouraged you to “drink a bit more, sweetheart,” so you did, and when he was pleased, the glass returned to its spot on the bedside table, and shortly after he was crawling underneath the comforter with you.
The warmth of the comforter and Leon’s body next to yours made it even more difficult for you to stay awake. Leon saw you struggling, catching the way you would doze off and then immediately wake yourself back up.
“Please, rest.” He muttered into your hair. You hugged him tighter.
“Do you have to go?” You asked him, even though you knew the answer.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Was all Leon could say in response.
You felt a lonely tear roll down your cheek yet again. But you were far too exhausted to cry some more. Instead, you sat up, looking at Leon intently. He returned your direct eye contact, sitting up himself to lean against the headboard and match your height.
“Promise me,” You started, holding out your hand. Without hesitation, Leon held it, locking your fingers together and giving your hand a slight squeeze.
“Promise me you’ll come back home.” You asked him, like you always did before he left for a mission. Every single time, he would give you the same answer.
“I promise.” He replied firmly. You knew deep down that asking Leon to make promises like this was unrealistic. He never fully understood what he was getting himself into until he arrived at the mission location – and you knew that despite his skills as a trained government agent, accidents always happened, and there was no way to know when things would go awry when he’s out in the middle of nowhere. But hearing him utter those two words before he left eased your worries just enough.
Trusting Leon was always easy.
“I love you.” You said softly, fitting back into Leon’s side perfectly, like you belonged there.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Leon replied, before tilting your chin up with two gentle fingers and kissing you with a fiery passion. You two lazily kissed each other until sleep started pulling you into its dark embrace. You didn’t fight it this time, resting your head on Leon’s chest and drifting away to the sound of his steady heartbeat.
The next morning, the two of you shared one last breakfast. You mostly sat in comfortable silence. You asked a couple questions about the mission, but didn’t get straight answers – it was confidential. You knew that already but always liked to ask questions anyway.
Right as Leon was about to walk out of your door, you stopped him. You took a few moments just to stare at him – he was as handsome as the day you fell in love with him.
You brushed some hair out of his face, kissing him slowly, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours for these last few minutes. When you pulled away, you were sporting a warm smile, feeling your eyes sting as tears threatened to spill. You kept them at bay.
“Don’t you dare–” You paused, your trembling lips making it difficult to speak. When you collected yourself, breathing in and out, you continued.
“Don’t you dare ruin this jacket. I love it on you.” You said, referring to the brown leather jacket that Leon had bought himself recently and was currently wearing. He had a tendency to ruin clothing items on his missions, and you hoped this one would survive.
Leon chuckled. The sound immediately filled you with warmth. You were going to miss that sound; God knows how long you’d have to go without hearing it everyday.
“Copy that.” Leon replied, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.
You shared one more embrace. The final hug was one the both of had trouble ending. But it had to come to an end eventually.
And then, Leon was gone. All that was left was a memory.
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egcdeath · 1 year
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clean sheet
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pairing: joel miller x reader 
summary: nothing stirs the pot like your ex-husband, gossipy soccer moms, and a weekend-long soccer tournament. (part two of spectator sport)
word count: 7.7k
warnings: canon divergent: no apocalypse, implied past emotional abuse, jealousy/misunderstanding, kinda angsty in the beginning but verrrry fluffy at the end, insecurities, there was only one bed, mutual pining, sarah and chloe being menaces as usual
author’s note: this past week has been extremely rough. like, ao3 author’s note apologizing for being gone rough, so i’m just as surprised as you are that i was able to write 7,000 words of a part two to spectator sport. enjoy!
 part 3 / series masterlist
Tournament season was nothing short of an absolute pain in the ass. It was a pain in the ass when you were married and able to evenly split your responsibilities, and it’s even more of a pain in the ass now that your ex-husband has decided to participate minimally in all soccer related ventures. 
To be completely honest, it seemed like it wasn’t just soccer ventures your ex wasn’t too enthused to partake in, as Nathan had ditched most of his fatherly duties whenever a new, younger girlfriend was in the picture. But that was neither here nor there.
Despite Nathan taking Chloe to her past few games this season—you were completely swamped with work and you had practically gotten on your knees and begged for him to take her to them—he didn’t seem to have any interest in assisting you with tournaments. 
That was fine and good. You knew about the events far enough in advance to move some meetings around, block off some time, and cross your fingers and hope that nothing came up unexpectedly in the days prior to your game. Although, what you couldn’t account for was your car completely breaking down on your way back from a bagel shop the morning before you were meant to be on the road for the next three hours. 
But alas, the universe had its way of kicking you when you were already down, leaving you biting back tears in the passenger seat of a tow truck as you attempted to figure out a Plan B.
“Please, Nathaniel,” you pleaded over the phone, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you tried your absolute best to hold the last bits of your composure together. 
“I’ve been at her last three games,” it was impossible to miss the sneer in his voice as if his own daughter was the biggest burden in the world. “And where have you been? It’s practically been a month.”
“Where have I been?” you laughed out of anger and at the absurdity of his words. You knew that he knew for a fact that you’d been drowning in work. “Nathaniel. You know how my work has been. Please just do this one thing for your child. It’s the fucking weekend. It’s not like you’re doing anything else.”
“It’s always work with you. You know, this is why I couldn’t be with you anymore. You were always so selfish with your time and inconsiderate with mine,” he sighed dismissively. “And for the record, Claire and I have a reservation tonight. So I am doing something else.”
It was staggering how minimized and powerless he made you feel after every interaction despite how little he actually was in your life. Every time you interacted with the man you thanked whatever forces out there that you somehow found it in yourself to leave. 
You huffed and blinked away tears, hugging yourself to attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort. After signing the papers, you told yourself you would never waste one single tear on the man again. You wouldn’t let a little argument like this change that promise.
“Can I at least borrow your car?” you sounded so meek and desperate, but you were running out of options, and with every passing minute you had less and less options.
Instead of responding, Nathan simply laughed at you before ending the call. Humiliated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt about the whole situation. 
You angrily wiped away the hot tears that had slipped down your face without your permission and sighed as you evaluated what options you had left. You could take an Uber, but it would be ridiculously expensive. You could rent a car, but Chloe was bound to get stains and dirt tracked throughout the vehicle. Anything else was far too short notice. 
You flopped down onto your bed and screamed into your pillow. The stress from your overfilled work week combined with an extremely inconvenient situation was taking its toll on you, but you needed to figure something out. 
Maybe you could carpool with someone. Although, you weren’t sure who was still in town, as most of the families liked to leave at the ass crack of dawn. If that wasn’t enough, you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to sit in a small contained space with some of those families for a prolonged period of time. 
Maybe you could ‘borrow’ Nathan’s car regardless of what he said. You were sure his new girlfriend had a car–if she was even old enough to drive one–and they could certainly take that car to their ever-important reservation tonight. Although, maybe getting a grand theft auto charge in order to make it to a soccer tournament wasn't your greatest idea.
You were deep in the eye of a brainstorm when a soft little knock rapped against your door, seconds before Chloe peeked her head in. 
“Hi mom,” she greeted, completely unaware of the extent of your conundrum. “Sarah can’t find her cleats and wanted to know if she could borrow one of mine. Where do you keep my old ones?” 
Joel.
Oh shit, Joel.
Joel who you’d accidentally ghosted after the promise of a date. With work and ex-spousal drama, you hadn’t even had a moment to think about the date. A knot tied in your stomach as you thought about how you’d treated him. He probably thought you were icing him out on purpose. 
“They should be downstairs in the front closet under the coats,” you informed her. “You almost ready to go?”
“What does it look like?” she retorted sassily, doing a little spin for you to show off her full soccer attire. 
“Alright,” you chuckled, trying to keep it together for just a while longer. “Go find those cleats.”
With that, she was off, and you were alone with just one option. 
You dialed the number that you’d only texted once, and bit your lip as the phone rang out. The knot in your stomach tied and untied with each ring of the phone, nausea rattling you as you thought about all the ways he could answer. He’d probably be pissed that you were only reaching out to him now, only when you needed something from him. He’d probably tell you off, just like Nathan, and laugh at you over the phone over the mere prospect of hitching a ride with him.
After three rings, Joel finally picked up, saying your name aloud, as if he was genuinely surprised to be hearing from you. 
“Joel, I’m so sorry,” you took a deep breath and attempted to hold back the wave of emotions coming over you. This stupid stressful morning. This stupid stressful month. And stupid you for leaving a good man waiting for you. A good man who was probably moments away from becoming a bad man, like every other one that seemed to appear in your life.
“My car broke down this morning and I don’t have any other way to get to the tournament. Is there any way we can carpool? I’ll literally pay you to take us. I’ll drive Sarah to school for the rest of the school year. Hell, I’ll take her to games too. Just… please.” It felt like you were talking a million miles a minute. 
“Hey, take a breath,” he said, clearly picking up on the frantic energy you were radiating through the phone. “We’re heading out in about twenty minutes. We’ll swing by your place. And don’t worry about all that other stuff, okay? Just take a big breath. I’ll see you soon.”
You were flooded with relief as you spoke your gratitude and hung up. It almost felt odd to not have someone go off on you for waiting so last minute to reach out for help, or for not reaching out to them after you said that you would. You were puzzled, and not completely sure what you did to deserve someone like Joel in your life, but you were grateful to have him regardless. Especially now that he was coming to save the day. 
Sure enough, around twenty minutes later, a pickup truck arrived in front of your house, and Chloe was sprinting to go sit with her friend in the backseat, still overjoyed from the news that she would be traveling with her friend. 
Timidly, you entered the car, still anticipating a stern lecture or even a scolding for being a shitty mom, and an even worse potential partner. “I really can’t thank you enough for this, Joel,” you expressed before he had the chance to speak, hoping that if you expressed your gratitude before he had the chance to yell at you, the blow would be lessened. You kept your eyes down as you sat down and set your overnight bag in front of you. 
“Of course. You know, I still owe you a favor after that dinner fiasco,” he glanced over at you and smiled, and some of that fear you had been holding onto began to melt away. Although, you blanched at the mention of the date that you were meant to go on, but hadn’t had the chance to do so. Yet, there didn’t seem to be any malice behind Joel’s words. 
“I guess we’re even?” you offered, looking over at the man to attempt to read him as he slung his arm around the back of the headrest and looked through the rearview mirror as he pulled out. 
“Yeah,” he said shortly, almost… dejectedly? Maybe you were reading into it too much. After all, his attention was split between you and getting out of your driveway safely. 
Regardless of what anyone was feeling, your journey began with the girls in the back chatting amongst themselves and a slightly weighted silence between the two of you in the front while the sound of radio filled in for the lack of conversation between you and Joel.
You spent the majority of the ride looking out your window, deep in thought. You tried not to let Nathan get under your skin all that often, but maybe he was right about the way you spent your time. You’d practically thrown away your shot at any relationship with the man next to you, simply because you were too busy and forgot about a promise you’d made. 
You tried to focus on the excited chatter in the seat behind you, and less on the venomous words Nathan had given you over the years, but it was a difficult task. Paired with the fact that you were still waiting for the shoe to drop and Joel to go off on you, it wasn’t the most pleasant time.
After about an hour of driving (and in your case, brooding), you had to make a stop at the gas station, as the truck was running low on fuel. You reached for your wallet and grabbed a twenty dollar bill, then passed it back to the girls behind you. “Go get some snacks for us?” 
“Of course!” Chloe cheered, hopping out of the car and racing Sarah into the entrance of the gas station.
Joel was definitely going to go off on you now that the kids were gone. You held your breath as you got out of the car, leaning against the hood of the vehicle as Joel stood by the pump, his eyes fixed on his vehicle.
“I can’t tell you just how sorry I am. About not reaching out to you to go out sometime, and for having to ask you so last minute to take us to the tournament. I’ve just been absolutely swamped with work, and Natha-“
“You’re fine,” Joel cut you off as he acknowledged your apology, keeping his gaze trained on the car. Here it comes. “You don’t need to apologize. Sometimes life just throws a bunch of shit at us at once.”
You nodded in agreement, your breathing picking up as you waited for the condescension or lecture to begin. Yet… it never came. You weren’t sure if he was as upset as you suspected, but Joel was certainly feeling more than he was willing to let on. The lack of eye contact and his slightly off responses told you that much. 
“Is everything okay?” you finally asked, trailing off. “You’ve barely said a word all trip.”
“Everything is fine. I’m just tired,” he rubbed his forehead with his hand. 
“Well, if you’re tired, I can drive us the rest of the way over and you can sleep. That way you’ll be rested for the game,” you offered, taking a daring step towards him, and setting your hand on his bicep—a peace treaty of sorts. And maybe a hint that you were still interested in whatever sparks had been evident before. 
Joel immediately stiffened under your touch, and subtly rejected the motion. He glanced over at you for just a moment before looking back down at the gas pump and shut his eyes. “That’d be great. I’m really exhausted.”
While you could believe that maybe Joel was just tired, there had to be more to the story. The way he rejected your subtle touch and the way he just couldn’t seem to meet your eyes told you that much. Perhaps you underestimated just how hurt he was by you not making plans with him, although it wasn’t like he’d reached out to you to set something up. In fact, the last time you heard from him was the night before the girls’ game following their team dinner.
“Of course. Go ahead and get back in the car, I can take everything from here.”
The rest of the ride wasn’t too long, but you were happy to contribute after asking for such a last minute favor. You drove straight to the grounds that the team was playing on that afternoon, as you were already pushing it on time, and certainly did not have time to go check into your hotel yet.
Your kids jogged off to greet their team and warm up with them, leaving you alone with Joel once again as you grabbed fold-out chairs from the back of his truck. 
“You feeling any better now after sleeping?” you asked, turning to look at him and inspect his face for any suspicious expressions.
“Yeah, definitely,” he affirmed, but his words didn’t exactly match what it was you had observed. He closed his trunk and began to walk away, and you followed after him, feeling a bit like a lost puppy.
“Joel, really. You can tell me what’s wrong,” you practically pleaded, part of you still waiting for the moment he would tell you off.
“I already told you,” his tone was defensive, and when he turned back to look at you, the agitation was clearly painted on his face. “Nothing is wrong.”
You were taken aback, but understood that you had crossed some sort of boundary in your continuous pressing of what was wrong. You felt more like a kicked puppy than a lost one as you walked out to the fields behind Joel, setting your chair up close to him, but with a little more distance between the two of you than what you would have preferred. 
You didn’t talk much during the game, outside of cheering for your daughters and momentarily celebrating when one of them pulled something impressive off. 
Although you didn’t interact much, it still felt nice to be back at a game after being gone for the past few weeks. And honestly, it felt even more nice to be back in Joel’s presence after those weeks, even if it was clear that something had shifted between the two of you. 
When the second game began, you were surprised to come back from your short leg-stretch walk to find another chair placed next to Joel’s—and a woman happily chatting his ear off.
A pang of jealousy struck your gut as you observed the two of them. It was no secret that most of the moms (and some of the dads) on the team (and other teams) saw the same things in Joel that you did. But you had absolutely no right to feel jealous, considering the way you’d basically led him on, and you had absolutely no reason to believe that there was anything romantic going on between them.
But you felt unwell anyway. 
You urged yourself not to look at them for too long, instead focusing on the game in front of you, but the sounds of their voices and the way their conversation easily flowed was far too distracting. Just the rotten cherry on top of an already shitty day. 
You felt ridiculous and childish sitting there with jealousy burning deeply in your stomach as you mentally ran through all of the things you could have done differently. Maybe if you’d texted Joel the night of your dinner and found a day where you both weren’t busy to go out together, or if you’d just said no to taking on a few extra hours, you’d be the one giggling and playing with your hair as you chatted up Joel.
It was official: you couldn’t torture yourself with staying one more moment with the two of them. Instead, you shot out of your uncomfortable little chair, and hauled your jealous little ass over to the concession stand. If you couldn’t go back in time and fix all the mistakes you’d made leading up to today, at least you could stuff your face full of peanut M&Ms until you felt better.  
As you focused on tearing the yellow plastic with a little more force than what was necessary, you completely missed Alice—one of the more gossipy mothers on the team—approaching you. 
“Hey babe,” she greeted cheerily. “We haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Where’ve you been?” 
Your mouth was currently filled with candy, so it took you a second to respond. “Work,” you said in between chewing. “I barely had time to breathe, let alone bring Chloe to her games, so I had to basically beg on my knees for a little help from her father. Speaking of which, how was Nathan?”
“Oh,” Alice paused and looked off to the side, a little too guiltily for your liking. “Yeah, he was fine.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, brows furrowed at her strange reaction. 
“Yeah! He was great. It’s just…” she trailed off and offered you an awkward smile. “We thought you two were maybe back together. You know, with the whole co-parenting thing.”
Your eye twitched. So the parents of the team were gossiping and theorizing about your love life. Great. That’s probably what was wrong with Joel—word had gotten back to him that you and Nathan were playing house again. No wonder he was putting such distance between you. 
“Babe,” you tried not to let the annoyance you were experiencing reflect too much into your tone, “why would you tell people we were back together? Bringing your own child to their sports events is not exactly groundbreaking or relationship material.”
You were now gritting your teeth as the irritation really started to sink in. Joel probably didn’t reach out to you for your date since these fucking real housewives you were surrounded by had decided to spread baseless rumors about you from the moment your ex had stepped onto the sideline. 
You were wrong. This was the rotten cherry on top of the absolute dogshit milkshake of a day you’d had. 
“I’m sorry,” Alice didn’t sound as remorseful as you wish she did. You knew that deep down, she was enjoying this little game and would be more than happy to spread this information back to her friends. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“It’s fine, the damage is done,” you sighed, shoving a handful of candy in your mouth. 
“Have you seen Joel and Cindy, though? They’re so cute together!”
It was now clearer than ever that Alice was only interacting with you to stir the pot, so you simply put on the best fake smile you could muster and nodded. “Adorable. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go sit back down. I haven’t seen Chloe play in a few weeks, and she was doing so well in the last game, I’m sure she’s doing great now too!”
You didn’t wait for a response before walking off, attempting to suppress all of the feelings you were having with this new information you’d been given. In the three weeks you’d been gone, Alice had convinced the team that you and Nathan were back together, and Joel had already moved on. If you hadn’t cared so much about Chloe’s passions, you would’ve had her quit on the spot. You simply could not handle any more of this soccer parent culture. 
Sitting back down in your seat, you offered Joel an M&M, to which he politely declined. You wondered if there was a way for you to casually explain that you and Nathan were not and would not ever be an item again, but then again, it seemed like with Cindy in the picture, the ship of making anything work with you two had sailed. 
You attempted to focus on your daughter, who unsurprisingly was doing quite well in the game. You were glad that no matter how shitty your day was turning out, your kin was at least having a better day—and having fun doing it.
You simply went through the motions through the rest of the day, squeezing your daughter tight with a hug when all of the games for the day were finished and telling Sarah about how great of a job she did, then falling back into a somewhat uncomfortable silence on your drive to the hotel. 
Checking in had proved to be… a bit of an odd situation. As you pocketed your room keys, Chloe made an odd offer—her and Sarah would share a room while you and Joel would share your own. 
It shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did when your daughters proposed that you and Joel share a room so that they could have a sleepover, but it caught you off guard regardless. 
You were hesitant for several obvious reasons, but their room was adjoined to yours, and there was a perfectly nice pull-out bed in the sofa, which meant there was absolutely no need to share a bed with Joel. After some consideration and discussion with the man who would be your roommate for the night, you ultimately settled on allowing it. You would take the sofa. Joel would take the bed.
Besides, it’s not like he’d be spending the majority of the night in the room. After a short conversation, he was getting dressed and going off to dinner with Cindy. 
You tried not to feel bad for yourself for too long. You’d already spent the majority of the day feeling bad for yourself, whether it was for the shitty situations you found yourself in, or the way the moms on your team treated your love life like their favorite reality show.
Knocking on the door adjacent to your own, you were happy to see Chloe crack open her door. 
“Hi girls,” you greeted. “What do you say to a pajama party?”
“Yes!” Chloe squealed, swinging her door wide open. Conveniently, they were already dressed the part, and were seemingly ready to wind down after a long day of physical activity. 
After ordering an absurd amount of room service and having nothing short of a feast with your favorite pre-teens, the three of you sat on the floor under a blanket fort you’d constructed as you played Uno with some random network romcom playing in the background. 
It felt like after a long day of holding your breath, you could finally let go of it, winding down with your two favorite children.
“Do you feel like you had a good day today?” you asked, placing a green three on top of the pile of cards. 
“Yeah! I missed having you and my dad together at our games,” Sarah remarked, drawing a card. 
Chloe nodded in agreement, setting down one of her own cards. “You really spice up our games. I think Joel yells a little louder at us when you’re here. He was pretty quiet when dad was bringing me.”
You tried not to let your emotions show on your face too much in front of the children, but it was undeniably sweet that you being around brightened Joel’s light, even now, when things were a little more awkward between the two of you. You simply hummed as you set down your card.
“Yeah, he kept asking me if I knew where you were,” Sarah drew a card then placed the card back down on the pile. “I think he missed you.”
So maybe Joel wasn’t as mad at you as you thought he was. Asking where you were had to be a good sign, right? Maybe it really just boiled down to him thinking you were back together with your ex-husband, and him not wanting to cross any boundaries. 
“I think you’re our good luck charm. Did you see how well we played today?” Chloe asked, discarding a card. “Uno.”
“I think you guys are just good,” you set down a card. “Uno.”
“I dunno, when you were gone we kept losing,” Sarah set down a skip, causing Chloe to exclaim in frustration. 
“Our friendship is over,” Chloe announced to Sarah for what must’ve been the third time that night. 
“Mean it this time?” she teased. 
“I swear!” the pair broke out into giggles as you set down your final card. 
“We need to team up on you! How is it that you keep winning?” Sarah asked, pointing an accusatory finger at you. 
“She’s a dirty cheater,” Chloe tutted. “Just ask her why we don’t play Monopoly anymore. Right, mom?”
“Hey!” you exclaimed. “It was a rough patch. I keep winning Uno because you two keep targeting each other. What happened to team work?”
“No such thing in Uno,” Sarah shrugged. 
You laughed aloud, feeling some of your stress melting away with the motion, “you guys are too funny.”
Chloe yawned and reached for the pile in the middle of your little circle. “You can’t compliment your way out of this, cheater.”
“Ugh, whatever. I didn’t realize I raised such a sore loser.”
“Takes one to know one!” Chloe jeered. 
“Sure,” you chuckled. “Well, I think it's this cheater’s bedtime. Can I help you guys undo the pillow fort?”
The girls agreed, and you helped take down the mess of blankets, chairs, and pillows as they began to wind down and settle into bed.
“Goodnight, girls,” you bid farewell as you approached the adjoining door. “If you need anything, just come on over, okay? Sweet dreams,” you blew kisses to both of them before going back over to your side of the room.
When you made it back to your room, Joel was already in bed, the soft light of the television illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room. The light from the screen and his pajamas were doing him all sorts of favors, making him look like he walked straight out of your domestic fantasy. 
“When did you get back?” you asked as you grabbed your phone charger from your bag and approached the pull-out bed. 
“Like, an hour ago,” he shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. 
“You should’ve come over and played Uno with us,” you suggested, attempting to get cozy in your makeshift bed as you pulled the threadbare hotel blanket over your legs. “We had a little fort and everything.”
“Didn’t wanna intrude on your girls’ night,” he mumbled sleepily, hugging a pillow as he adjusted himself in bed.
“We would’ve been happy to have you,” you muttered, trying your best to relax in the rather uncomfortable makeshift bed.
Joel simply grunted in response, his eyes now shut. You could only assume that sleep set in quickly, and you’d now lost him to dreamland.  
You stared up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Part of you wished that this whole day was just an awful dream, and that you’d wake up the morning after the team dinner at Joel’s house, able to do everything all over again. 
Rolling onto your side, you hoped that the shitty pull-out bed would become even slightly more comfortable, but your hope was to no avail. You sighed softly and closed your eyes, wondering if you started counting sheep, if it’d be any easier to fall asleep.
About fifteen sheep in, Joel’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of whatever sleepy daze you’d been in. 
“Hey, are you sleeping yet?” he practically whispered. 
“No,” you responded, voice far above a whisper. “The floor would probably be more comfortable than this.”
“I told you you shouldn’t have taken the pull-out bed,” he goaded.
“You wanna get down here and sleep on it for me?”
“No. Well… Would it help you sleep better?”
“Joel,” you huffed.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” you listened as the bedsheets began to rustle.
“No, no, don’t do that. Your body needs an actual bed after all that hard manual labor you do. Lay back down.”
“Not if you can’t fall asleep because of that shitty bed. Trust me, I’ve slept in worse conditions.”
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Now I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”
Joel paused for a second, and you assumed he’d finally given up. Good.
Until he called your name once again. “Come up here and get a good night’s rest.”
“No,” you argued, though your sleepy brain was practically begging you to move to the comfier location. “You need it more than me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You snickered, “whatever you want it to mean.”
Silence on his end once again. Time to start herding your sheep. 
“Why don’t we just share? There’s probably room for three of me on this bed.”
A bold proposition from a man who got back from a date only a few hours ago. A bold proposition that you were probably a bit too enthusiastic to take. 
“Fine,” you huffed. “Only to get you off my ass.”
Every part of your body was thanking you as you slipped out of the shitty couch-bed and padded over to the empty side of the real bed. Tentatively, you got in bed and under the sheets, making sure to keep yourself on your side and keeping your back facing his.
“Goodnight, Joel.” you finally whispered. 
“Goodnight,” he softly said your name, and you imagined the look on his face. Maybe in a different world, one where you’d gone on a date with him when the offer was on the table, you’d be in bed with him without the argument, with his arm wrapped around your waist as he wrapped you in a warm embrace, or with him hovering above you as you attempted to keep quiet in a hotel filled with guests who were more than willing to speculate about you.
It was nice to have someone in bed with you again. Even if all you had was the heat radiating off of the man next to you, and the sound of his deep breaths as he fell deeper and deeper into sleep. Despite all that had gone wrong in the day, and whatever Joel’s situation was with his date, somehow laying in bed with someone else made you feel at ease.
You didn’t have to count any more sheep to fall asleep that night. 
When you woke up, Joel was already out of bed, pulling on a hat and slipping on his shoes. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he commented as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “Wanna get complimentary breakfast before it goes away?”
You stretched out as you listened to the proposition, wondering if the phantom feeling of an arm around your waist during the night was real or just a dream. “You know me so well.”
Somehow, the tension between the two of you didn’t feel so heavy that morning. Maybe sleeping in bed together had helped to break the ice, or maybe some other variable was at play. Regardless, you were happy to feel like your relationship had gone back to what it had been a month ago, even if Joel really was beginning to form something with Cindy. 
The hotel lobby wasn’t too busy when you and Joel went down. You were certainly grateful, as the fact that you had just rolled out of bed and gone to breakfast was more than obvious to anyone who’d looked at you for more than two seconds. 
You were stirring endless circles into your coffee when Joel sat down across from you, sighing as he leaned back into his chair. 
“Sleep well?” he asked before taking a hearty sip of his own coffee. 
You held back a laugh and exchanged it for the slightest hint of a smile. If only he knew just how well you slept. “I guess,” you admitted. “I always sleep well in hotel beds.”
You were completely uncertain of how to address the bed-sized elephant in the room, or if it was even a good idea to do so. But the lack of coffee in your system and the remnants of sleep clouding your brain had lowered your inhibitions significantly, causing the next words to tumble out of your mouth. 
“Thank you for letting me join you,” you involuntarily held your breath after saying so, too afraid to openly wait for his reaction. 
“Of course,” he hummed, beginning to stab at some of the food on his plate. “I couldn’t just let you break your back on that couch-bed.”
“Well I appreciate it,” you began to pick at some of your own food, the two of you falling into a far more comfortable silence. Obviously something had shifted between the time of the game and now, but you couldn’t quite place it. Since you were already in the mood to address elephants in the room, you had no issue blurting, “How was your date last night?”
“Date?” Joel looked up from his scrambled eggs with a furrowed brow. 
“With Cindy? From the other team?” you took a bite of toast and didn’t back down from the loaded eye contact going on between the two of you.
“Well, it wasn’t a date. Cindy’s married. Happily, I might add. Just catching up with a family friend.”
You were slightly taken aback, but not necessarily in a bad way. Suddenly, you felt silly for all the energy you’d wasted the day prior feeling jealous and bad for yourself, when you didn’t even know the full story.
“Well, what about Nathan? Is he a family friend?” it came out defensive, and you couldn’t particularly blame him for it. Finally some proof that this was what that weird tension had been all about. 
Maybe if your mind was slightly more clear, you’d find it cute that you were both a little jealous over each other. Maybe you really hadn’t thrown away your chance at this thing the way you’d thought you did.  
“No! I told you, I’ve been swamped with work. Like, getting home so late that I only see Chloe in the mornings and when I tuck her into bed, late. She needed to go to her games, and I knew there was only one person I could possibly guilt trip into bringing her. But I would rather marry the actual incarnation of Satan himself before spending another day with her father.”
“Oh,” Joel said quietly, lifting his disposable cup to his lips and seeming rather deep in thought.
“But you thought I was with him this whole time?”
“I guess?”
“And you still invited me into your bed?” you pressed, a hint of amusement in your voice.
“There was nothing inherently romantic or… sexual about that. I just didn’t want you to wake up in pain,” he set down his cup, but continued staring you down.
You shrugged. Solid answer, although you certainly wouldn’t be opposed to either alternative scenarios. 
“But even if there was, it’s only because you deserve better than that man. And from what I’ve seen, pretty much any man is better than him.”
“Including you?” you pressed. 
“What do you think?” the little smirk he was obviously trying to fight only egged you on. 
“I think I agree with you. Except, I don’t love that you just assumed something about my relationship status because one of those human rumor mills told you it. Next time, you wait until you hear it from me, okay?”
“I normally would’ve, I guess I’m just so used to things not working out with me, my brain was just looking for a reason why this wouldn’t work out either.”
“To be fair, not contacting you after saying I’d go out with you is pretty solid grounds for thinking we wouldn’t work out. But at least let me take you on a date before we try to figure out if we’ll work out or not.”
“You still want to go on that date?” Joel asked, sounding more astonished than you would’ve expected. 
“What do you think?” you winked, tossing his words right back at him. 
Just as your exchange began to wrap up, you were joined by two sleepy kids, who most certainly heard part of your conversation about going on a date. You couldn’t even bother with feeling mortified, too high on the knowledge that you had yet another shot with Joel. 
“How was your sleepover?” you asked the girls without missing a beat. 
“Fun. We missed you, though,” Chloe sighed as she buttered up a bagel. 
“Yeah, Uno’s not the same without you,” Sarah added as she began to cut up her pancakes. 
“I’m flattered, girls. We’ll have to have an Uno tournament sometime and get Joel on it too. Mostly so he can witness me beating everyone’s ass at it.”
“Language, mom. And we all know you’re a cheater.”
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”
“I don’t know, I kinda believe it,” Joel teased. 
“Not you too, Joel! You’re supposed to be on my side,” you laughed. 
Your table fell into comfortable conversation for the rest of breakfast before you had to send the girls off to go get ready for their games. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to check if you were still dreaming after waking up in this domestic paradise following the terrible day you’d had yesterday, but even if it was a dream, you weren’t sure you wanted to wake up.
The rest of the tournament went smoothly, with the ice sufficiently broken between you and Joel, and you even joining in on his conversations with Cindy as the three of you sat together. The girls’ team ultimately won, leading to some very happy passengers as you drove back home. As you exited Joel’s car, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and a whispered promise of going out with him soon. To think, when you’d started your weekend, you never would have believed it would end in this manner. 
——
“Mom, hurry!” Chloe yelled up the stairs at you, sounding a little more impatient than what you would’ve liked. 
You could understand where she was coming from. Following the end of the soccer season, Joel had been quite busy, and Chloe hadn’t been able to see her closest friend outside of school hours for quite some time. If you were Chloe, you’d probably be anxious to see Sarah too.
Hurrying down the stairs with a newfound sense of urgency, you gave your daughter a little side hug. 
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” you apologized, understanding her urgency a little too well.
“Don’t be sorry. Just be efficient,” she pulled away from you and checked out your clothing. Sure, it was 6 PM and you were already in your pajamas. Sue you for wanting to come back home after a long day at work and put on your softest cat-printed pajama pants. “That’s a good outfit.”
“Oh, thank you. I was actually invited to Paris Fashion Week, but-“
“You can tell me in the car!” she exclaimed as she scurried off, with you following behind the little slippery bastard. 
In the car, Chloe seemed to be acting a little… suspicious. Although, you didn’t pay much mind to it, making small talk on the short drive over to her friend’s house. Her friend whose father you still hadn’t found time to go out with. 
“Oh yeah, being here reminded me that Joel had something to tell you,” Chloe announced as you pulled into their driveway. “Come in with me?”
By now, you were slightly suspicious, but the idea of having some sort of confrontation by Joel about you not following through on your word once again overrode your suspicions of your child. 
As Chloe rang the doorbell, Sarah swung the door open, smiling at her friend, then up at you. 
“Hi, come on in!” she said sweetly, opening the door all the way and leading you inside. 
As you walked in, your eyes caught on a makeshift pillow fort—one that oddly resembled the one you’d helped the girls make during their tournament. Cute.
“My dad’s inside. He wants to talk to you. See you later, bye!” Sarah talked quickly, and even quicker than her speech, she disappeared up the stairs with your daughter.
Something was definitely up.
You approached the fort with trepidation, and slowly pulled up a flap, where you found Joel dressed similarly to you in a loose shirt and plaid pajama pants, comfortably splayed out on his back while he seemed to be playing Candy Crush on his phone. 
“Oh, hey,” you said awkwardly. “The girls said you wanted to talk to me?” 
“Oh, hey,” he parroted back, seeming even more taken aback by your presence as he immediately sat up. “Uh, I actually didn’t know you were coming over?”
Oh.
It was always something with your kids. They knew how to scheme, and they knew how to scheme well.
“That’s fine,” you laughed to yourself about the situation. “I was gonna head out anyway. It was good to see you, and for the record, you clean up pretty well,” you teased, alluding to your similar mid-evening pajamas. 
“Wait!” he said quickly, nearly cutting you off. “Sorry, wait. Don’t go yet. Unless you have somewhere else to be…?”
You shook your head and shrugged. 
“I mean, obviously our kids set us up again, but we also haven’t followed through on that date yet. So maybe we can do it now?”
“Maybe,” you hummed as you sat down next to him on a mountain of pillows. “What would you want to do?” you asked, gently tapping his leg with your fuzzy-sock clad foot. (Chloe didn’t need to know that what was taking you so long was finding these god-forsaken socks.)
“Well, I’ve been wanting to take you out to some snobby, fancy restaurant,” he began. 
“Oh?” you voiced, brows raised. 
“But I don’t really think that’s either of our speeds.”
“Agreed. I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I’m liking it so far.”
“We also probably shouldn’t leave the girls home alone at night,” he continued to think out loud, his soft eyes never leaving your own. You almost felt like you were caught in a trance by them. 
“So what do you suggest we do, Joel?” you asked. 
“Well, we have this wonderful pillow fort already at our disposal. Maybe we can order some food and watch a movie?”
“I think sitting in a pillow fort while eating food and watching a movie is my love language. That sounds lovely.”
You two smiled at each other, and you could hear your heartbeat pound in your ears as a warm feeling filled your chest. It had been far too long since you’d felt any semblance of this feeling.
An abundance of Thai food and an argument over what movie to watch later, you were curled up like a cat beside Joel admiring the look of his face under the lighting of the fairy lights that were hung up throughout the little fort. 
“Ugh, why haven’t we done this sooner?” you asked, lifting your head out of the dip of his shoulder. 
“We’re both too busy,” he murmured, looking away from the television screen to look over at you. 
“I’ll literally take sick time off just to do this again,” you remarked. 
“I think that’s just the Thai food talking.”
“It was fucking amazing.”
“Told you.”
“But it’s not just the Thai food. I really like you a lot, Joel. I like spending time with you. I like talking to you and arguing about whether a shitty romcom or shitty action movie is better. I like doing mundane shit with you, like putting up fairy lights in a fort to enhance our ‘fort experience’. I like cuddling with you. Has anyone ever told you that you’re basically a human furnace? Anyway, I hate the fact that our daughters had to make an elaborate scheme just to get us together. I wanna make more time for you, because you deserve it. But like, only if you also wanna spend more time with me,” you confessed. 
“Of course I want to spend more time with you. And in the spirit of honesty, I really do have the time, sometimes. I guess I just worry that you wouldn’t want to spend your free time with me.”
“Joel, I would sit and watch paint dry on a wall if you were there with me. From the moment you entered my life, you’ve made everything a little better. If I have the time, I’m never gonna say no to being with you.”
He paused for a moment as he seemed to process that information, only coming back with a quiet, “Can I kiss you?”
You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him like no one you’d ever kissed before. It felt like the Fourth of July in your stomach as a moment you felt you’d been waiting for all your life finally came to fruition. 
By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and felt warm all over. You could go out on a limb and say that as far as dates go, this one was pretty successful, and to think, if it wasn’t for your daughters’ intervention, none of this would’ve happened. 
Yeah, you definitely needed to treat them to something.
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hippiepowrs · 13 days
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one night lookin' pretty
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eddie munson x fem!metalhead!reader
you and eddie hate school dances, but you decide to go to the prom this year--with someone who isn't eddie. eddie does not like that, but can't say anything.
a/n: this is my first longer fic so i hope you like it. prom season is coming up so this is kinda self indulgent (as if all my fics aren't). this one is for all my weird girls out there! title from one night in the city by dio btw. :)
warnings: hurt/comfort. angsty for a while but gets fluffy. swearing. a guy being a total asshole to reader. reader wears a dress. reader and eddie both self-described as 'freak.' eddie being a jealous and insecure idiot. both are oblivious as fuck. eddie is REALLY dorky. eddie's backstory and parents--i did not read that book so i don't care if it's canon. idiots in love in the end. pretty cliche but i don't care!
wc: 3.8k
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It’s prom night, and Eddie is sitting alone on his couch. Without you. 
Usually, you guys skip every school event together in favor of watching a shitty movie and smoking half of his stock, but tonight was different. Someone asked you to the prom, and it wasn’t him. 
He’s been acting off for the past two weeks, you noticed. He’s been quiet and snappy, and has been opting to jack up the stereo instead of talk on your drives home. When you asked him what was wrong, he pushed you away. So, you left him alone about it. He made it clear he wanted his space.
He didn’t even want to show up to see you in your dress. You called him last night to see if he would come over–he told you he was sick. He wasn’t fully lying, though. The thought of you going to that stupid school dance with that stupid school boy made him nauseous. It didn’t make sense to him. How did you switch your views on the prom so fast? Months ago, the two of you laughed at the idea of going. Now, you were dressed up all pretty, just like all those popular girls you claimed to hate. He had to watch that sleazy ass car pull into to the trailer park, right up next to his. He’d never admit that he watched you step out of your trailer with that guy, and wished it was him. 
Being completely honest with yourself, your date isn’t even exactly your type. Todd isn’t some freak like you or your friends, but he isn’t a complete asshole either. He asked you in the hallway two weeks ago, and your instinct was to laugh at him. You laughed in his face, but he didn’t budge. He really wanted to take you to the prom, so you told him you’d go. It felt nice to be wanted. It was okay that he wasn’t some rock n’ roll dude like you’re into–it’s not like you’re marrying him. It’s just the prom. 
You and Todd arrive at the Hawkins High gym, hand in sweaty hand. Pushing the anxiety clawing at your throat back down, you give him a smile as you walk to get your photo taken together. The frilly, glittery background reminds you that this place isn’t for you. Again, you push that down. 
The music isn’t really your style, either, but everyone is having so much fun you feel the need to pretend. None of your friends are here, so you’re stuck. Maybe you should have pregamed, you think. Too late now. Todd pulls you onto the dance floor with a fervor you’ve never seen in him. You don’t understand how a person can have so much fun dancing to this shitty music. It’s a lot easier to get through when you pretend that Todd is Eddie, and you’re dancing to mixtapes in his room. You decide not to think about the implications of that right now. When the song ends, you offer to grab punch for the both of you. Maybe it’ll be spiked. 
As you make your way back to Todd, you see him chatting with a few of his friends, and from this distance you can just begin to hear them.
“So, when do I get my twenty bucks from each of you? She’s totally ruining my reputation right now.” He laughs, and your stomach churns.
“Okay, yeah, you proved us wrong. You got her here, you danced, you win.” His friend confirms the fear that’s been looming over you like a dark cloud since Todd first asked you out. 
“You at least better hold onto her long enough to get her home with you tonight, man!” Another friend cackles, and you think you’re going to vomit.
How were you stupid enough to think that he actually liked you?
God, you’re so gullible. 
At least there’s nothing to lose now, you think. Walking over to him, drinks in hand, you dump both of them on his head. They splash on his stupid hair and drench his stupid suit. The music keeps playing. A few people turn to look. The room doesn’t stop for you like some trashy romcom. Everyone just keeps going. 
Storming out to the parking lot, nothing can stop the burning tears from pouring down your face. You slump down against the brick wall, fabric of your dress sticking to the rough sidewalk. The warm spring air feels sticky on your cheeks. You wish you had stayed in with Eddie.
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You need to call Eddie. Todd drove you here, so it’s either Eddie or walk, and these heels already hurt enough. Your body feels like dead weight as you drag yourself to the payphone on the wall, punching in the number that’s engraved into your heart. 
“Hey.” You greet, choked up. You’re trying to keep your composure. You know it won’t last long.
“…Hey. Havin’ fun with Mr. Popular?” There’s a bitterness to his tone. Usually he would’ve picked up on the fact that you were crying in a split second, but tonight he was too angry.
“Uhm, not really. Could you, uh,” you sniffle, blowing your thin cover, “pick me up? Like, now?”
You can almost hear his demeanor shift over the phone. A beat of silence passes.
“I’ll be right there.” He’s clearly still upset, because he hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. But his one-sided irritation can’t override the facts: he cares about you so much that he immediately hops in his van and starts speeding to the school, even faster than normal.
You sit back at the edge of the sidewalk, staring into the empty night over the parking lot. God, this is so cliché. Freak gets taken to prom as a joke; left crying outside. You know how pointless it is to cry over this guy. You don’t even care about him, to be honest. But it’s not really him you’re crying over. It’s the extensive disappointment you repeatedly put yourself through after expecting different results—it’s the fact that you haven’t stopped thinking about Eddie all night. 
As you begin to probe deeper into the ethical implications of falling in love with your best friend, said best friend whips into the parking lot, tires skidding as he pulls right up to you and parks. He drives just how he lives his life—with a sense of urgency and passion you don’t see in many. His van stops diagonally in the middle of the pickup lane, and he hops out of the driver’s side door, so worried he can’t be bothered to close it before sprinting to your side. 
For the past six minutes—which is Eddie’s new personal record on getting to the school from Forest Hills—his mind has been racing with every possibility of what could have happened to you tonight. Maybe Todd had another girl, or is just boring, or maybe you got totally Carrie’d and some assholes poured pig’s blood all over you. Not likely, but hey, you never know the determination of Hawkins’ resident assholes. At least if you got Carrie’d you’d look metal as fuck. That would be a good album cover. But that’s not the point. What he’s more worried about is the possibility that that dickwad touched you in any way. Just the thought is enough for him to completely light up—he got pretty close to breaking his steering wheel from how hard he was gripping it. 
“What happened?” He tries to act nonchalant, but that’s something he’s never been good at. 
Your head is held between your knees, looking down into nothingness. He’s staring daggers into the top of your head, and you can almost feel the fact that he wants to say ‘I told you so.’ Reluctantly, your wet eyes tilt upwards, the rest of your head following. 
“Let’s just talk in the van.” He sighs. 
You don’t budge. Your legs feel far too wobbly to imagine getting up right now. He has zero patience at the moment, it seems, as evidenced by the fact that he almost immediately picks you up bridal style and carries you directly to the passenger’s side of his van. He fumbles with the door handle for a second before setting you down gently in the seat. You watch him drag a frustrated hand over his face through the windshield as he walks back to his side, and although you know you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re worried that you did. 
The engine roars into life, turning your seat into a makeshift massage chair. Eddie pulls out of the parking lot as quickly as he pulled in, but with a little more focus. He doesn’t turn his music on, which is a bad sign. 
“It was a bet,” is all you can say, voice soft and defeated, “because, of fucking course it was.” You stare out the window, head tapping against the glass as he hits a pothole straight on.
“I told you that asshole was bad news.” His voice is laced with venom. He’s never been good at controlling his anger—especially when it has to do with you. 
You stay silent. Anything you say right now will probably just piss him off more. 
“Why do you—why do you always do this to yourself? You’re always finding these guys that just want to take you out to say they were able to take you out. They treat you like a fucking trophy.” He scoffs. 
You look at him again, tears still silently falling. Even if you wanted to say something to that, you can’t seem to find your voice. 
“I just don’t get it. You’re, like, totally perfect,” he coughs, gripping the wheel harder, “and these guys you find are total douches. You can do so much better.”
“It’s not like there’s anyone better around here,” you mumble while staring out the window, like some kid talking back to their parent for the first time. 
“That’s not my point!” His yell rings out against the hum of the engine, the dull drumming being the only sound left as he hangs a sharp right turn. “I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to find some guy that you throw your morals out the door.” Eddie’s eyes dart to you for a moment before looking back at the road. 
“I haven’t thrown my morals out the door.” You argue softly. 
“Yes, you have! We always said we’d never suck up to the bullshit they want us to do, that we’d never let them turn us normal, and here you are at the fucking prom.”
“Eddie, it’s prom! It’s not like I fucking stabbed my mother!”
“We’re supposed to be the freaks! We’re Hellfire! We piss people off! That’s our whole thing! You can’t just—fuck—just throw that out!” He groans angrily, pulling into Forest Hills, slowing down as you near the Munson trailer. 
“I’m not throwing it out.” You say, much more firmly. 
“You’re throwing me out!” There it goes, the root of the entire issue. He’s always been worried that you’ll find someone cooler, someone less abrasive, someone who will make you laugh and smile more than he can. Logically, he knows that would never happen, but he can’t help his fear. He throws the van into park and slams the door as he gets out. 
Eddie was eight when he met you. He’d been living with Wayne for a little over a year by the time you moved next door, but he was still struggling. His mother left him first, then his father. He missed his mom a lot, but his dad probably caused him more pain, knowing that he had the choice whether or not to stay, but Eddie wasn’t enough. Uncle Wayne was nicer to him than his father had ever been, but that can’t fix a broken kid. 
Then one day, you showed up in your ratty hand-me-downs, a year and a half younger than him. He thought that girls had cooties, but you were different. You didn’t giggle or try to hide your gaze like the other girls did when they made fun of him to each other. Instead, you walked right up to him and said hi. 
You were new, and you didn’t have the best clothes—he could tell you were probably going through something similar to him—so the kids at school kicked you to the curb. You were just as pretty as the other girls, he thought, if not prettier, as much as a seven-year-old can be. But that didn’t really seem to matter to them. Your lunchbox was plain, theirs had characters. 
When the two of you got to be in junior high at the same time, him in the eighth grade and you in sixth, he thought for sure that you would find new, more popular friends. It was incredibly shocking to him that you’d rather hang out with some dorky boy with an ugly buzz cut who’s two grades ahead of you than the other pretty girls, but he wasn’t going to complain. 
He’s lived with that fear constantly since then, always preparing himself to see you walking into school one day in some pastel sweater instead of your band shirts and battle vest. He knows you won’t, he knows you’re better than that, and he feels so guilty for always expecting the worst, but he can’t help it. 
You hop out of the passenger’s side of the van, holding up the skirt of your dress like some elegant princess. But instead of some grand, ornate staircase, you’re simply walking up the concrete steps of the Munson trailer and following Eddie, who’s storming inside. 
“Eddie.” You sound like a scolding mother, tears having dried up a few minutes ago, and you shut the door behind you. “Why do you think so lowly of me?” Your voice cracks with the weight of the question. 
Eyes widening, Eddie never realized quite how much his thoughts could affect you until right now. “I don’t,” he says softly. “You’re the best person I know.”
“You say that, but you always think I’m gonna leave you for someone else. You’re my best fucking friend. I’m not just gonna cut you off at the drop of a hat.”
“I- I know that,” he stammers out, a little shaken. 
“Do you?”
“Look, I,” he sighs, finally turning around, “I’m just scared. I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize how fucking lame I am, and you won’t want to deal with me and all my bullshit anymore.” 
“The world isn’t against you, Eddie.”
He opens his mouth to quip back something snarky, but he closes it as he thinks about your words again. 
“You hate yourself so much that it’s beginning to rub off on me, because I’m friends with you, and if I like you, you think that surely there’s something wrong with me, too.” 
He’s stunned into silence, your words stabbing him straight through the heart. 
“Can you at least tell me why you were being a dick for the past few weeks?” You switch the subject slightly with a sigh. 
Eddie takes a deep breath. “Because of Troy asking you to prom.”
“Todd.”
“Yeah, whatever. He was my problem.”
“Why were you mad at me for that, though?”
“I knew he was gonna hurt you.”
“You didn’t say anything about that, though. You just said he was an ass once and then pushed me away for two straight weeks.”
Standing in the middle of the dark trailer, Eddie is presented with two options: confess his lifelong, undying love for you, or don’t. He knows that the only good and honest explanation he can give you involves a love confession, and he hates lying to you. But one thing trumps the fact that he hates lying to you, and it’s that Eddie is a complete and utter pussy. 
Eddie is, and always has been, a pussy. In middle school, you acted as his bodyguard—self-appointed, and very passionate—which only made him get bullied worse. You didn’t care. You’d defend him until the end of time. You’d take a hundred tugs to your ponytail or face-plants in the lunchroom so that he wouldn’t have to. You weren’t very loud or talkative in school, until it came to defending Eddie. 
To Eddie, you’re this glowing beacon of light and hope in his life. Everything good comes from you. And if he confesses his feelings to you, and you don’t feel the same, that pillar comes crashing down. 
But…what if? What if you did feel the same? That’s stupid, he thinks. Clearly you don’t, because otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to prom with another guy. And he’s sure you already know about his big, fat crush, and you’re choosing to act like you don’t notice.
“I’m sorry.” You can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s fingering riffs on the side of his thigh. 
“You always get so upset when I talk to guys. It’s not like there can be only one guy in my life.” 
“I know that, it’s just–” This is going to be the worst decision he’s ever made, and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. “--I’m jealous, okay?”
“Obviously you’re fucking jealous, dickweed.” As you call him your favorite nickname, the intent behind his words reaches you, and your cheeks begin to heat up. “…Wait.”
“Have you seriously not picked up on this yet?” Eddie is genuinely surprised at your reaction. “You—you’re perfect, you know that? You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how you do it.” His voice is softer than normal. 
“Yeah, but—like, are you serious?” You ask. 
“I wouldn’t joke about this. I’ve been, like, totally into you forever. I’m surprised Gareth or Jeff didn’t say anything to you.”
“They did a while ago, but I thought they were messing with me.” 
“Okay, I honestly can’t blame you for that.”
A moment passes in silence, and you think about how to respond. 
“You know, I didn’t really want to go with Todd.”
“What? Why did you then?”
“I hoped that you would ask me,” you admit, eyes drifting to your feet, “but it was kind of a stupid thing to expect.”
His jaw goes slack as he hears you speak. 
“I guess that I’ve just kinda had this pipe dream where we’d go to prom together, and I’d be able to dress up all pretty, and we could dance together.” You avoid his gaze, until you hear him scurrying down the hallway. 
He emerges back out with his stereo in one hand and a cassette in the other, scrambling to place it down on the kitchen table and shoving the tape inside. He immediately skips to the song he has in mind. The familiar sound of Tommy Lee’s piano starts from beside you, and before you can figure out what’s happening, he’s offering his hand to you. 
“May I have this dance?” 
A smile grows on your face. “God, you’re such a fucking dork.” Your insult doesn’t come without placing your hand in his. He’s bright red, and he’s never slow danced in his life. 
Mötley Crüe’s Home Sweet Home is interrupted occasionally by the sound of feet stepping on feet and the subsequent ow!’s that follow, as well as the flustered giggling of two idiots in love. 
Eddie pulls you a little closer, his hands firmly planted on your waist. “You look really beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, “sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 
He feels extremely underdressed compared to you, him in his favorite torn up pair of black jeans and an Exodus muscle tee, and you in your stunningly gorgeous dress, looking prettier than any princess he could ever imagine. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, flustered, “you don’t look too—fuck!—too bad yourself, you know.” A playful giggle comes with your words, and a huge grin grows on Eddie’s face. 
“Yeah?” He teases, looking right in your eyes. 
“Yeah.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” you giggle, staring right back. 
Leaning in, he lets out a nervous laugh before pressing his lips to yours. It’s not some magical explosion of energy that cures all your problems and fixes world hunger; but his lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like weed, gummy worms and a hint of shitty beer, and it feels right. 
You kiss him a few more times before the song ends, all quick and chaste but completely full of love. Pulling you along with him, not wanting to let go, he pauses the tape and the trailer goes quiet again. 
“Was I better at that than Troy?”
“Todd.”
“Point still stands, fuckface.”
Eddie drags you down the hall to his bedroom, the familiar ambiance warming you like a comforting blanket. Jumping onto the bed with a plop, the boy pats beside him invitingly.
“Can I change first?” You ask, ecstasy of the moment wearing off, allowing you to remember how itchy this damn dress is.
“‘Course. Your shirt is clean if you want it.” He calls it your shirt, but it was his at one point. The old Metallica tee used to be his favorite one, too, which meant it got a lot of wear and tear. But then you started wearing it at sleepovers, and it quickly became your shirt. Eddie didn’t like to wash it afterward because it smelled like you. He always felt like a creep for that.
Your hand tries its best to wrap around and pull the impossibly tiny zipper down, but it doesn’t want to budge. Eddie, watching you as intently as ever, quickly notices and jumps up to help you. His fingers move to your waist, soft and nimble, and gently undo the zipper for you. You let your dress fall to the ground, and he looks away, flustered. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear before, but now it feels a lot more serious.
Quickly throwing on the hole-filled Metallica shirt and a clean pair of his boxers, both of you hop back into his bed. You’ve shared plenty of nights here before, but once again, now it feels different. You sense that it will become a common theme for your life in the near future. His hands snake back around your waist and pull you next to him, and you allow your head to rest against his chest.
“So… does this mean you’re, like, my girlfriend now, or what?” A goofy smirk is plastered across his face as he asks. 
You try to playfully shove him off of you, to no avail. “Are you seriously fucking asking me that?” You’re trying so hard to act angry, but your giggles give you away.
“Yes, yes it does.” You seal it with a kiss. Then one on his cheek, and the other, and his forehead, and the tip of his nose.
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reblogs and notes always appreciated! | requests are open!
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7ndipity · 9 months
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When they call you clingy
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: different scenarios in which they've called you clingy.
Warnings: angst, swearing, depression, jk calls himself an idiot, not proofread.
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon for this request! I'm gonna be honest, these are all over the place. Some are angsty, some are fluffy, Jimin's is just straight-up comfort because apparently he's part of my emotional support squad. Idk, I hope you like them anyway!
Masterlist
Requests are open
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Seokjin: Bickering with Jin was something that happened often, usually over something you both knew was ridiculous to fight over, like the validity of mint chocolate as an ice cream flavor, but both of you were too stubborn to back down.
Tonight's argument: whether holding hands while sleeping was clingy or not.
"I think it's nice." You argued.
"That's because you're clingy!" He retorted.
"I'm clingy?" You asked, offended. "Have you seen you?"
"What?"
"Last week at that party, you couldn't stand me being more than five feet away from you!"
"That's cause Wooseok kept staring at you and I didn't want him trying to make a pass at you." He exclaimed.
You blinked. "That was why?"
"Yes!"
You paused, caught of guard by his admission. "That's kinda sweet."
"Because I'm a sweet boyfriend." He said, still slightly defensive.
"You are." You assented, coming over and kissing him, making him finally crack and give you a small grin.
"Can we please just go to bed now?" He asked.
"Will you let me hold your hand?"
He sighed. "Yes."
"Then yes."
Yoongi: It was late in the afternoon when you brought him a coffee while he was working on his laptop and, noticing the concentrated frown on his face, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Agh, clingy." He grumbled, not with any venom, just his usual tone, but it was still enough to make you draw back, excusing yourself so he could work.
Were you clingy? You knew you were more physically affectionate than he was, but he'd never seemed to find it bothersome, but you couldn't help second guessing yourself after his comment.
Later, when he came through to join you, he noticed you were a bit quiet, but didn't think much of it at first, until you sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from him.
"C'mere." He said, patting the space next him.
"I'm good here right now." You said, making him frown in confusion.
"Is something wrong?" He asked.
"No."
"Then why are you way over there?"
"I'm just trying to give you some space."
"I don't want space." He pouted.
"But you said I was clingy."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing." He said, sliding over next to you. "You know I'm not the best at showing my feelings, but that's one of the things I admire about you. You're not afraid to be the one to reach out first, and sometimes I need that. I need clingy."
"Really?" You quirked a brow at him.
"A little, just a little." He warned, trying to hold his hands up in defense, but it was too late, you'd already tackled him.
Hoseok: It was a clear night as the two of you walked around the city, enjoying one of your first proper date nights since he'd got back from tour, and you were taking full advantage of it, trying to keep as close to him as possible, whether holding his hand or wrapping your arms round his waist.
"My clingy baby." He chuckled as you wound yourself around him yet again. It wasn't said unkindly, but for some reason the word kept bouncing around in your head, making you self-consciously shift back to just holding hands. Were you being too clingy? You had always thought that Hobi liked your affectionate nature, but now you were worried if it was a little too much, even for him. Noticing your change in mood, he gave your hand a little squeeze. "You okay?"
"Mhm." You hummed, still thinking.
"You sure?" He asked.
"Am I being too clingy?" You asked, glancing over him.
"What?! Of course not!" He said, stunned. "I was just teasing you earlier, Baby. Trust me, you could never be too clingy for me."
"You sure?" You asked.
"Definitely." He said, opening his arms. "Now get back over here."
Namjoon: Joon had been working almost non-stop for weeks and you could tell it was taking a toll on him, the fatigue clear on his face, but he rebuffed you at every attempt to try and help him relax.
"Can you just give me some goddamn space, you're so clingy!" He'd finally snapped one evening, the final straw in your mind.
That was three days ago, and you hadn't been back to his place since, ignoring his calls and texts. You hated shutting him out the same way he had done you, but you also weren't going stand by and put up with his behavior anymore. If it was space that he wanted, he could have it.
Until you open the door the next morning to a very disheveled looking Joon.
"What are you-?"
"I'm sorry." He blurted out. "For acting the way I have, and for yelling at you like that. I know you just trying to look out for me, you didn't deserve any of that." He paused to catch his breath, seeming to brace himself before looking back up at you. "The past few days have been absolute hell without you, but it made me realize how much I love you, and I know it's shitty timing to say that, but I-"
You shut him up with a quick kiss, knowing if you didn't stop him, he would probably keep talking for at least a half hour.
"You wanna come in?" You asked, to which he quickly nodded.
He still had some apologizing to do, but it was a start.
Jimin: Some day are just shit. Some days feel like you're just circling the drain, constantly the verge of tipping over the edge into the deep abyss, and all you want is something to hold onto and keep you from falling.
Which is why, when Jimin came home late that evening and fell on the bed next to you, you had immediately wrapped yourself around him and refused to let go.
"What's got you so clingy?" He'd teased, trying to tilt your chin up, but you wouldn't let him, tucking your face further into his neck.
"Babe?" He asked, more worried now, noticing you shaking slightly against him. "What's wrong?"
You just shook your head. "Bad day."
"I'm sorry." He said softly, understanding the situation now. "Can I do something? Do you need anything?"
"Just you." You mumbled, your breathing unsteady as you tried to keep from crying.
He held you tighter. "I'm here. I've got you."
Taehyung: "I like this." He mumbled, tracing patterns along your back with his fingers.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm, I like it when you're clingy."
As soon as he'd walked through the door, you had latched onto him, having not seen him in over two weeks while he was traveling.
You frowned, propping yourself up on your hands to look at him. "I'm not clingy."
"That would sound a lot more convincing if you weren't laying on top of me right now." He chuckled.
Shooting him a look, you moved to roll off of him, but he stopped you, holding you tightly by the waist. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I don't wanna be clingy." You said stubbornly.
"But I like it!" He laughed.
"Well, I don't! Being clingy isn't supposed to be a good thing!" You said.
"I think it is, at least the way you do it." He said, rubbing circles on you sides with his thumbs. "It's nice to know that you like me as much as I like you."
"So, you're admitting you're clingy too?" You poked him.
"You had to ask?" He suddenly rolled till you were pinned under him. "Darling, you have no idea how clingy I can be."
Jungkook: It had caught you off guard when you overhead him talking to one of his friends after dinner. "Y/n's the same way, they're so clingy!" He'd laughed. It might have only been a joke, but it cut you deeper than you cared to admit.
You knew you tended to stick him more when you went out, but he'd always seemed okay with it. Till now now anyway.
For the rest of the evening, you couldn't help but shy away a bit from him, keeping a little distance between you, causing him to grow increasingly confused.
"Are you mad a me?" He asked, once you were alone in the car.
"Do you really think I'm clingy? You asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.
"What?"
"That's what you said to Mingyu." You said, looking down.
"That was- I was just joking around." He said trying to keep his tone light, but it became clear by your lack of response that you weren't amused. "I don't think you're clingy."
"Then why say it?"
"Because-" He sighed. "Because I'm an idiot. I was just trying to be cool, and I know that sounds dumb and childish, but I don't know how else to explain it." He looked over at you. "I'm sorry."
You studied him for a moment. "I expect cuddles as compensation for this."
"Of course." He agreed.
"And don't call my boyfriend an idiot."
"You got it." He grinned at you, starting the car.
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jayujus · 10 months
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JOAH (I LIKE YOU) - NI-KI SMAU
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synopsis ❀ : in where fashion student and model, jo y/n, has been openly crushing on dance student, riki nishimura for god knows how long. that is until one day, she crushes on someone else and riki goes feral.
featuring ❀ : (ZOA of WEEEKLY as yn's faceclaim), enhypen maknae line, new jeans' danielle, treasure's junghwan, xikers' junghoon, p1harmony's soul and jongseob, &team's taki, konon, ive's wonyoung + maybe more to come
genre(s) ❀ : fluff, angsty, kinda love triangle, crack ??
warnings ❀ : kys jokes n that stuff, cursing, riki's mean, ignore timestamps
started ❀ : june 9 2023
completed ❀ : august 1 2023
taglist ❀ : closed
authors note ❀ : tbh this is my first time actually posting on this account and i'm a bit nervous as to how this smau will play out 🥲 also so so sorry if its boring 😭 i'll try to update everyday if possible, but as of june 23, i will be a little less frequent
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profiles ❀ : we told her to buckle up 🤷🏻‍♀️ | hi stink 😝
chapters !
01 : PLS ONE CHANCE BRO
02 : so mean
03 : keshi concert
04 : he thinks i'm pretty?
05 : can't let go
06 : konon's advice
07 : time to move on
08 : yn's character development
09 : junghoon's bold era
10 : the truth hurts
11 : the what if's
12 : date night!
13 : regretful
14 : riki's depression
15 : mixed emotions
16 : not so smart
17 : new best fran 💬 0.4k + smau
18 : we've been replaced
19 : i think he needs some water
20 : cringe :/
21 : shota's schemes
22 : bouquet of roses
23 : top 10 worst anime betrayals
24 : predicament
25 : make amends 💬 0.4k + smau
26 : operation: win yn over!
27 : #exposed
28 : MAMA 😭😭😭😭😭
29 : honest feelings
30 : #ditched
31 : RICE 🍚😫😫
32 : he really is rizzki
33 : d-day 💬 0.8k + smau
34 : enchanted
35 : psych ward
end
copyright © jayujus 2023 all rights reserved
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azulpitlane · 4 months
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i wish you would I ln4
pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist
yourusername posted a story 2h ago
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The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.
"Mason?"
"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."
Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.
"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.
"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."
You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.
As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.
"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."
"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."
"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."
"And um I have to ask,"
You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.
"What is it Mase?"
"Do you love him?"
You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.
"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."
"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."
"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."
You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.
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Lando was freaking out.
He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?
He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?
Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.
"LANDOOOO! HI."
"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"
"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"
"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."
"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."
Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.
"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"
"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."
"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."
"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"
"Wait-"
She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.
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Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.
"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"
"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."
"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."
"What are you talking about? What article?"
"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."
Oh god.
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Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages
YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message
Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages
Y/f/n 8 unread messages
The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.
"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.
"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."
"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"
"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."
You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.
"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."
"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"
"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."
"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."
"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."
"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."
"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"
"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?
"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?
"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."
"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"
Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.
"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay."
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one week later
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liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others
yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3
comments on this post have been limited
yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️
yourusername pls dont forget snacks
taylorswift need this new album right now
danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹
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liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others
dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.
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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA
user2 team mason idc
user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)
user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.
user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry
user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁
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notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh
tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc
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vendetta-ari · 30 days
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Please, write an x reader about the Vs with an angel reader who they want to win over and who happens to be completely oblivious about their intentions because she is very naïve. Oh, and I would appreciate some fluff! If it's okay, I'd like Vox and Val to have romantic intentions while Velvette has platonic ones (ie: wanting to hang out with reader and show off her work). Of course, this last bit about Velvette is completely up to you! Thank you for reading! <3
my first ask back from hiatus, enjoy my dear anon! I'll be honest, I dont know how to write Valentino in a not smutty or angsty way, so I tried my best, velvette's has implications of her liking you but not dating so???
[SUGGESTIVE AND ITS VALENTINO SO IT DESERVES ITS OWN WARNING THERE]
THE VEE'S X ANGEL READER
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Vox
☆ Vox found you during extermination day, you weren't an exterminator- just wanted to visit the bright red place they call hell. 
☆ took an interest in you, more specifically your naivete. he put on his business smile and led you to the vee's tower wanting to “tour hell” with you
☆ Instead he just ended up falling for you harder than he thought
☆ his original plan was to get you to sign your soul off and he'd use you as branding, something like “even angels live voxtek products!!”
☆ but he ended up liking you more than he should've, he thinks your naive and kinda ditzy, he loves it and think its adorable
☆ however, he doesn't let you leave hell, so I suppose you're a fallen angel now.
☆ no matter,  you're with Vox now. you can have everything you ever need and want
☆ And he totally didn't brainwash your brain into thinking that. 
☆ “Just don't ask questions, okay angel?”
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Valentino 
~Valentino saw you wandering hell during extermination, you were not killing anyone though.. what the fuck?
~But you, you looked different then the other angles he'd seen.
~He just had to have you,  I mean how could he possibly even resist! it's your fault for looking all dumb and naive like that after all. 
~He grabbed your wrist and threw you into his studio, all the explicit content and nudity made your poor virgin eyes look away and blush.
~ “Aren't you a lovely specimen my dear angel? your so much different then the others I've seen, amorcito~” His voice was tinged with lies but you were just too stupid to notice, weren't you?
~You fell hook, line, and sinker for him. you quickly signed a contract with him, he had you right where he wanted you. while him? well you were..just another worker is all. but soon you started getting popular, in videos like Ditzy angel has their first time!~
~It was all acting anyway, what was the harm in making a few videos?
~You quickly became Val's favorite. He didn't treat you badly, you'd sit on his lap while he'd direct his other workers. He'd treat them so badly though! you couldn't help but feel bad so you often calmed val down by snuggling up to him and wrapping your pretty angelic wings around him.
~Upon your touch he usually shuts up, and wraps his own wings around you too. and he would always be gentle with you. 
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Velvette
-Velvette just found you waltzing around hell like it was no big deal, she was confused as hell but intrigued, you were different 
-actually, you were perfect. so she snatched the opportunity while she could.
-She ran up to you, turning up her charm and asking you if you wanted to model for her company
-She showered you with compliments, and it was more like an order and demand rather than her actually asking you.
-no matter, you excitedly agreed. you've always wanted to be a model!
-Your her top model actually,  you got a lot of popularity being an angel after all
-She dresses you up in white and blue, not usually her style but she must admit, it looks great on you!
-You never leave her side, she's very protective of you. I mean there are dangerous people out in hell and “I just wanna keep you safe my angelic dolly!~”
-Any of her advances fly right by you, not even noticing she's flirting with you, she does get pissed about it sometimes but she usually just ends up saying “You're a klutz, my dear angel. and your cute and ditzy and clearly not getting that I'm flirting with you so your clearly my type.”
-you look away from the new dress she bought you “Huh? sorry what'd you say Vel? I got distracted..”
-xoxo, Ari
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thenightwolf51 · 8 months
Text
So i originally had this idea when i reblogged this post by @saphushia but i wanna just seperate it out as its own little prompt.
A quick context is that Danny seems to be roaming around Gotham like some homeless cryptid, kinda Bus to Nowhere style but with more vigilante interaction and casual offerings of first aid. And the batkids are keeping their adoption bait First Aid Cryptid(tm) secret from Batman.
One set of tags in the reblogs from @little-pondhead caught my attention
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I came up with both funny answers and an angsty answer for that "#why?" but here's the angsty one (though i promice i actually envision it to be more hurt/comfort with a lot of family fluff)
Actual Prompt⬇️⬇️
Something happens, maybe a reveal gone wrong, maybe he got capture by the GIW, maybe he lost Jazz and his parents somehow.
Whatever it is, it leaves Danny with a need to escaped to a new dimension which just so happens to end up being the DCU. He winds up in Gotham and is just trying to start over, easier said than done but at there's plenty of heros around so he doesn't need to go ghost and he can still patch up the local vigilantes to feed his obsession. He's just not up to being Phantom yet and he's still recovering from whatever happened in Amity, whether it be mentally or physically.
Plus these vigilantes are kinda fun to mess with. Danny can practically see the gears turning as they try to put together and make sense of his little "lore drops", that Red Robin almost reminds him of Wes in a way.
Its not like he really needs to hide anyways. There's no GIW here, no Anti-Ecto Acts, if it really comes down to it he could probably pass as meta and fall under those protection laws. Judging by Signal, Danny's pretty sure Batman's bluffing on the whole "hating metas" thing anyways.
It takes awhile before Danny actually does meet the big bat himself and the reaction he gets is nothing anyone was expecting.
You see theres one little detail danny couldn't have been warned about, and its that there just so happens to be a version of Jazz here.
Except this Jazz lost her Danny when they were in high school, as in full on dead and gone Danny, no halfas here, the portal simply did not work and it was just regular ole lethal electrocution that hit her little brother.
What if she grew up with a young Bruce somehow, whether it be because CPS took her from the Fentons after her Danny's death or Amity Park simply doesn't exist in the DCU making Gotham the city with the thinnest veil and thus where the Fenton's chose to settle down.
This Jazz is an adult in her 40s but was once a kid smart enough to go to Gotham Academy on scholarship (or maybe the Fenton's had enough money from patents?). A kid who took one look at young Bruce's grumpy little face and decided he needed a honest friend, one that wasn't after status or money.
This Jazz grew up being a secondary voice of reason for Bruce, ganging up with Alfred in their own crusade to enforce healthy habits on him in between their weekly tea sessions.
This Jazz lost her brother and could not only understand Bruce's resoning on a minor level but encouraged his planned "journey of self discovery and healing". (Though the bat costume he made when he came back was unexpected and she gave him a look to rival Alfred for it)
This Jazz grew up to be a social worker because if anyone had cared enough to take her away from the Fenton's sooner then her brother might've still been alive
This Jazz being the one Bruce calls when he first gets Dick because holy shit he has no idea what hes doing and "Jazz, i just became a father, help!"
This Jazz being a sort of aunt to all the Batkids and is a major influence that has led to their dynamics being similar to Wayne Family Adventures
Bruce goes pale and later calls Jazz after he finally gets a glimps/meets the so called "First Aid Cryptid" his kids have been obsessed with. Because this kid that he's looking at with the barely visible lichtenberg scars... that's a face he hasn't seen in little over 20 years, that's his old friend's long dead baby brother.
Bruce sees danny and his mind rapidly jumps to all sorts of possibilities. Is this a clone? Is this a trap? Are the Lazarus pits involved somehow? Time travel? He does consider a ghost but this kid is too solid and they're nowhere near the old dilapidated Fenton Works building
Eventually, down the line when they get the full story of Danny being from an alternate dimension, Jazz might try to adopt him. Which has potential to be unhealthy but i fully believe Jazz would be aware enough not to project her decades old grief on this Danny, who is so similar but so different to her brother.
(Because I think a Gotham raised Danny would've been similar to a young Jason in street smarts so this Amity raised Danny is noticeably different)
Danny on the other hand... not sure if i could say the same, especially if he just lost his Jazz before winding up in the DCU. But again, this is an adult Jazz in her late 40s with professional experience dealing with traumatized kids, and she'll do her best to help him through it
Im imagining Jazz and Bruce to have a more platonic friendship, maybe even see each other as family, but you could go with Parent Syndrome if you want
(And because i love to see other peoples ideas and opinions, @omnicrafts @ailithnight @atiyasnake @hdgnj @nelkcats @nerdpoe @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @dcxdpdabbles. Sorry i tag you guys so much but i like your writing, im eager to offer ideas, and your posts have been major sources of joy while ive been hyperfixating on DPxDC)
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grey342 · 6 months
Note
Hii! I’m so glad to see someone currently writing bradley cooper fics because honestly PHIL CAN GET IT. i wanted to request maybe a jealous!phil where reader goes on a friends bachelors trip and knowing Phil’s past he gets all angsty, as smutty as you’d like :) honestly anything you’d write id love!!
Don't leave me
Jealous! Phil x reader
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synopsis - Phil's girlfriend goes on a trip for a bachelorette party and he's not happy about it.
warnings - MDNI 18+ content, Phil being dramatic, Phil being jealous (Obv), lingerie, slight handjob, P in V, riding and praise.
authors note - Thank you so much for this request and the sweet compliment! I gotta be honest i'm not a huge fan of angst so I made Phil a lil more dramatic and kinda sassy. I still hope you like it :)
please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342
This man is gonna be the death of me.
The main thought running through your head whilst packing. His remarks and whines can be heard from the next room.
Your close friend was having her bachelorette party this weekend but, she also wanted to spend a couple of days with the bridal party before her wedding. So you all decided to spend a long weekend in Vegas. And Phil is not happy about it.
"I mean, I don't get why you have to go," you roll your eyes at him, "it's not like she's your best friend."
"Oh yeah? And who is?" You retaliate, smirking.
"Me." He scoffs, as if this is obvious information, walking into the room. You take one look at him and start laughing.
You're not stupid, you kind of guessed why he was so mad about you going but now. He's made it really clear for you.
"What's so fucking funny?" He says confused, placing his hands on his hips. A gesture you would usually find attractive but right now, it's making you laugh even harder.
"I just, uh, I can't believe it," you say in between wheezes, " I mean. I had an idea but now it's so obvious." You quietly chuckle.
"What? What is? You're not making any sense." He declares, clearly getting frustrated. After calming yourself down you finally say-
"You're jealous." Apparently, it's now his turn to burst out laughing.
"What? Where the fuck did you get that idea?" He managed in between laughs.
"You're jealous. You're so insistent on me not going, you're trying to tell me all the bad things about the girls. I mean you literally just said "she's not your best friend, I am." You're SO jealous." You clarify.
He's silent just staring at you. You can see the clogs turning in his head to try and come up with a good response. You swear you can see the light bulb appear on top of his head.
"You're just saying that to make yourself feel better about leaving me. For a whole weekend might I add." He says almost sassily and walks out of the room. Clearly proud of himself.
"Sweetie," you sigh, "it's only three days. I'll be back before you know it. We can text throughout the day and call every night." You try to deal.
"Or I have a better idea... don't go and we can talk all day and all night. Face to face."
You groan in frustration. You cannot believe this is the type of conversation you were having with your grown ass boyfriend. Pick the sassy men they said. You internally roll your eyes.
You walk into the living room to see him practically pouting on the couch. Scoffing, you go to walk away when an idea pops into your head.
"Hey Phil, if you stop complaining right now you can have your present early." He looks at you confused.
"What the fuck do you mean "present"?"
"Well since you are so predictable," you emphasise the last word, " I knew you would act like this when I said i'm going on a trip. So, I bought you something as a "sorry for leaving you, you big baby" gift."
"You did?" You can see the glint of excitement in his eyes.
"Yes my little princess but, clearly you are a lot more upset than I anticipated so i'm willing to give it to you early. If you want it that is." You wager. There's a long pause where he's weighing out his options.
"Okay," he clasps his hand together, " I have decided that I would like my present early. BUT I still want one for when you come back." He leans back on the couch, glowing with pride.
"Fine. I'll be right back." He rubs his hand together in anticipation as you leave the room.
Moments later you're shouting down the hall, "close your damn eyes." He grunts in disapproval.
"Okay and open." He does and your met with a groan that also sound like a moan.
"Oh baby." You're stood in front of him in a lingerie set, barely covering anything. Plus it's in his favourite colour.
"Am I forgiven?" You say, moving down to straddle his lap.
"Yes. A million times yes." He exclaims instantaneously as you giggle.
His mouth meets yours passionately, with your teeth and tongues clashing. His hands make their way down to your ass and yours to his chest. Pushing him lightly so his back meets the couch.
His slowly starts to kiss your jaw, then down your neck and finally the top of your chest. He looks up at you, almost pleading, and you give him a look of approval. His hands move around your back to unclasp your bra.
He slides it off at an agonisingly slow pace. When the bra is fully off he stares at your chest in awe. He moves his head down taking one nipple in the mouth and groping the other. You let out a content sigh.
He switches over, repeating the same process as you began to rock slowly, back and forth, on his lap. His moans vibrate on your chest as your breaths turn into pants.
You reach down in between you and start pulling at the waistband of his grey sweatpants, indicating you want them off. He knows what you want and immediately begins to pull them down. You look down and eagerly take him in your hand. You swipe your thumb over the tip and began pumping up and down.
"Fuck.." He groans. You push your panties over to the side and slide onto him. Both of you moaning in unison. You'll never get used to the way he feels, filling you up perfectly.
Once you're both ready, you begin to move back and forth, riding him. His hands take sanctuary on your hips, slowly guiding you. You lean down, placing your mouth on his, capturing his groans in your mouth.
"You're doing so good. Riding my dick so well baby, my good girl." He says against your mouth. He reaches down and starts to rub slow circles on your clit. You whimper at the contact.
"Oh fuck, do that again." Obeying his orders you do it again. He uses his other hand to begin assisting you in bouncing up and down. Your movements begin to change pace, going faster.
His groans and your whimpers becoming louder. He dick twitching inside of you, indicating he's close. You ride faster and bounce harder. He in turn, quickens his movements on your clit and his fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises for later.
"Oh shit, Phil.. I'm close."
"I know honey, I know hold on a lil longer." He pants. Your cries being the response. Your head thrown back, eyes screw shut.
"Hey, look at me. I wan't you to look at me when you cum." He demands. You immediately open your eyes and stare into his. His gaze possessive.
"Oh fuck, Phil." You whine.
"Let go baby, give it to me." That send you over the edge. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the pleasure taking over and your body began to shake.
"Oh shit, oh shit." He says as he fills you up, head resting in the crook of your neck.
Coming down from your highs, he lifts his head and smiles at you.
"What?"
"You're so beautiful." He places a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Mhm, i'm still going." You stand up and start walking towards the bedroom.
"Ah! Come on honey, i'm the love of your life! You can't leave me!" He calls out, following you.
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darlingofvalyria · 7 months
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❝Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr.❞
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part 04 | oh honey, you can do better than that
chapter summary:
[ How does Aemond Targaryen actually feel about you? Ft. Post Sex Limited Hot Water Shower, Totally, Definitely Not Phone Sex, and Jealousy, My Old Friend and His Pal, Misunderstanding. ]
[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,981 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,
contains— gets fabulously smutty, fluff, angsty, sort of hurt/comfort - nsfw: creampie, rough sex, (f) masturbation - no gods, no kings, no betas.
a/n— this became way longer than initial thought sjdhsjhds, so the scene that was supposed to end it on wil lhappen next chapter shdjsh + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡
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You know when in books, they tell you that when you kiss someone, the world explodes in colour and feeling, in metaphors and fireworks? They forgo the physical description almost, to focus on how it feels to kiss someone.
How sometimes, when you kiss someone, you float through five different memories— three of does you don't actually have, but you know, metaphors, memories you can remember in feeling, your body astral projecting to other lifetimes because a kiss is just that good?
Kissing Aemond Targaryen is the opposite. Kissing him grounds you.
You can't think in colour or firework, only the feeling of his soft lips hum against your mouth, how your tongue drags a seam over his bottom lip and he groans, and his hands are on you, on your back, on the back of your head, devouring you in a feverish haze of soft, insistent— borderline desperate — kissing.
You get lost in him, how he tastes, how he feels, how he kisses.
Like, like— how his thumb, over the nape of your neck to press you close, holding you there, pressing on a sensitive skin behind your ear that makes you tickle, that makes a breathless giggle slip past your lips, and he chases the sound with his mouth. He is possessive in his hold, moving you so he can kiss you better, deeper.
Here comes the metaphor— but Aemond kisses like a conqueror, and you're weak and willing, falling into his chest, gripping his really, really nice button up shirt, trying not to sigh too loud or gods forbid moan, because in the back of your mind, you know you're in public.
But when Aemond kisses to conquer, the world mutes. He takes your senses as much as he is trying to de-virginise your mouth, regardless if it wasn't a virgin in the first place. Aemond kisses like he is devouring not just you and your mouth, but any remnant of everyone else.
Someone— the bartender — coughs and you pull away, breathing heavily. You don't open your eyes because you're embarrassed and disoriented, but you feel another kiss, not on your lips but on your top cheek, just below your eye. It's chaste. Sweet. It curls your insides and edges and you kinda wanna let him conquer you again.
"Ñuha riña," he murmurs against your skin. He tugs your head back, that thumb on the back of your ear, the other hand, curled over your hip, squeezing you lightly, and you finally open your eyes. Complication and lust wars in his gaze, but when your eyes drop to his swollen lips, you bit your own as you try not to sigh in want.
 You are Helaena's best friend, you think, still staring at how red and juicy his lips had gotten, Father Have Mercy I Am Only A Woman My Vagina Is Throbbing Help. You cannot think that her baby brother's lips are sinful. It is disgraceful. Or how much you want to kiss him again. How much you want to feel his groan reverberate against your skin until it reaches your bones. Your marrow.
You paste a smile, and though your words are honest, you keep your deeper feelings to yourself. Caged and unwelcome, especially when his eyes look away. Look back at where you know Alys had just bore witness to the very obvious declaration.
Though it was brief, it grounds you harder than any kiss Aemond Targaryen could impart against your own.
He did this for her. Like an actor on a play. There's an audience and a fellow actor. This is nothing more than a scene to him.
As it should to you.
Didn't you kiss him?
Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but near him. You step away but also don't want him to worry— there's nothing to worry about, right? — taking his hands and giving them a squeeze. He turns, and the lust is gone replaced with a softer look. You let your smile stretch before it dips in suspicion.
Aemond is sharp when he's using his brains. When his emotions cloud him— anger, lust, All The Feelings Reserved for Alys His First Love — his brain cells abandon ship except for two. They join hands and start gyrating.
He calls your name. Your smile stretches further but it can't reach your eyes so you look away, laughing brightly. Fakely.
"You kiss good. 10/10. But I'm not eating here after that." You flag the bartender and pull out crumpled tens before he could protest. "I'm ordering takeout and watching Angela Lansbury figure out more murders."
The way he says your name again lingers, trying to tug at your strings. A plead. He holds you steady with one elbow, and you hate it. You hate it because he can sense your turmoil when you didn't want it to be shown. Because kissing him didn't mean anything, and you were supposed to be more than happy helping him.
And you are.
Right?
Bitter thoughts have a tendency to pitch, and when you start wondering, comparing, if this is how he pleads with Alys— a gentle touch, a crisp, wandering look in your face trying to decipher what his next moves should be, how he should step, what he should say — you take a step back emotionally and physically.
You can't do this to him, but he can't do this to you too.
His hand is between you before your expression makes it curl into a fist.
"Okay," he says. "Okay. I'm sorry, riña."
You don't admonish him of his shit, instead you wink. You fake it. You keep trying because if you let your hurt be blatant between the two of you (why, why would it hurt?) (because you're being used & despite previous claims, it's fucking shit to be used???) it'll then be something to address. An elephant in the room.
For now, you shove the fucking elephant in the corner.
"This way, she can think we got so hot for each other that we just had to skip dinner." You try for a smile again and you win because you feel yourself calm down. "It'll be great, you'll see."
Kissing him is a dangerous endeavour. It's good (earth-shattering, would sell your soul 20/10), but no more kissing Aemond.
(As things that are meant to be set as rules go, this too, you will break).
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What does a girl gotta do to ground herself when she's thrown off axis, spinning and spinning into cold, empty space?
You get fucked.
"F-fuck!" comes out of your mouth as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but spasm in your locked position; Cregan has your arms back against your body, his hips slamming against your ass, feeling his stones, his thick cock bullying that spot inside of you that has you creaming against him, your orgasm grabbing hold of your throat as you think and colour and profanity but it all comes out a garbled mess of moan and gasp.
And you don't just get fucked— you get fucked hard. Fucked with a capital F and an O.
Cregan grunts, barks his own profanity behind you as the overstimulation gets you whimpering, chasing his own high until his hips stutter and his warmth, thick and silky, spurts in ropes and lakes inside your battered womb. (Thank fuck for IUD because you're pretty sure his swimmers are of Excellent Top Notch Quality with how vicious he cums). He presses you 'till the hilt, releasing your arms to press a tight palm against your torso to keep you there as you grow lax and warm against him, occasionally twitching.
Thick, dollops of your shared wetness drop from between you as you both catch your breaths.
(Again, thank the gods for modern medicine).
"So..." With his chest pressed against your back, legs too wobbly to stand on your own, you mimic the same pattern of his breathing. Sharp inhales and braying exhales move in one for a minute or two, both of you trying to grasp thought.
"So?"
"Wanna talk about your problems now, babygirl?" he purrs in your ear. You smack his ass and he laughs, letting the voice drop.
"Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr."
A dramatic gasp of horror escapes him. "Sweets!" He slaps your shoulder. You yelp. "Don't say that when I'm still inside you!"
"Bitch, then get out!"
He smacks a wet kiss on top of your head, laughing with your own breathless laughter. "Alright, alright. Lemme just... Shit." You both wince at the feel of him leaving your abused cunt, your leg kicking in a twitch. "I think I came too much, you okay?"
There's real concern in his dark, dark eyes, and the pitch of his tone is serious. A real question that required an answer.
"Green as Broccoli, baby." You sigh, holding the wall in front of you to keep you steady. "Fuck, if you get me pregnant, I'm actually going to snipe Cregan Jr."
He holds Cregan Jr with a wounded look. "Cregan Jr help make Cregan the Third. You can't do that to family."
You blink at each other.
"Dude," you finally say. "Either my pussy just fucked you stupid or you're roundabout implying incest, and I am going to hurl."
After a quick cleanup, a shower that's less sexy and more trying to hog the hot water because for some reason Cregan's shower only has a limited amount ("Why the fuck is your apartment like this?" "It's a cheap place! Also, I'm the only one in it! Stop distracting me and share the shower, woman, damnit!"), and once both of you are dressed, dinner in the form of a takeaway, and Scream 2 playing on his TV— you drop your problems.
That's what you like about Cregan, recently as you found out. Things you may be... a little more hesitant to tell Helaena— because you know, this concerns her baby brother that she's protective about, that she asked for your help about — and Cregan is like a stranger peering into your life.
Apart from the good sex, there's not a lot that Cregan actually knows about you from now. Neither of you linger, truly, on the deep stuff. Sure you hang out, and you enjoy spending time with him, but— everything else, knowing you in the frayed edges, he doesn't hover. You don't either. And both of you are more than happy with the arrangement. It also puts unloading all this Aemond/Alys drama on him in a positive spin, as it actually lifts off the weird heaviness on your shoulder.
He whistles, patting the face mask you put on his face. "Babe, gotta say, I think you may like the guy past face value."
You groan. "That's not a good answer."
"You didn't deny it."
"Because there's nothing to deny, there's nothing to pursue. There's nothing there period."
He arches a thick eyebrow. "Now you're overcompensating with the denial. That was three different denials."
You nibble at your lip, giving a shrug. "It's how it all set up, you know? Like. Okay, sure did I think he was pretty cute? Yeah. But I'm Helaena's best friend first and foremost. My relationship with her precedes anything else."
"Even me?"
"Yes." You snort. "If she told me to drop you, I'd throw you."
Cregan's mouth falls open. "That is so vicious." You blow him a kiss, he bumps his shoulder with yours. "Is it just Helaena that stopped you from pursuing anything with him?"
 "... Mostly. He was also younger. He was in high school when I met Hel."
He snorts. "From what you told me, he enjoys his ladies a little older. But you know, I know Hel. And if you think about it, you're both two people she loves, why won't she be excited at the prospect of two people she loves falling in love? Anyway, what Hel thinks isn't the biggest question of the math problem, sweets."
"What is?"
"How does Aemond feel about you?"
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How he feels about you could be explicitly hinted by the messages and calls that followed. You got busy at the bar, new hires needed to be trained, and Aemond got busy with his University obligations, so 'Everything After' came in bursts when it could.
AEMY: I'm so sorry about blindsiding you that day. We were having a great day, you were helping me process my relationship with Alys, and I ruined it. I would understand if you didn't want to do this anymore. I am so sorry, ñuha riña.
YOU: aemy..., it is literally 230am
AEMY: I am so sorry.
YOU: go to sleep. i forgive you
AEMY: You do? I don't want you to think that you have to. You're allowed to be mad at me.
YOU: you sent this at 2 in the morning and i know how much you care about your sleep. u hate fucking up ur sleeping schedule. i know its eating you alive. u know what u did wrong and i care about u enough to forgive u.
YOU: now go sleep, aemy. love u sleep well. we're ok
AEMY: Thank you. I won't do that again, without your input. Good night, sweetheart.
AEMY: 💗
YOU: did u just use my fave heart omg
AEMY: I'm grovelling. Least I can do. Good night, riña 💗
YOU: gnight aemy💗💗💗
The next morning, having slept for five hours since you got home after your shift, you trudge to the kitchen only to a pull stop at Helaena eating a cereal, smugly, while a bouquet of tulips about twenty or so, sits on the counter beside her.
"Holy shit, these are pretty." You finger a pink petal from the collection pink, orange and white tulips. "Which admirer of yours got this for you and would you say he has a hot brother?"
Hel snorts. "That's not for me, dummy. But I do have a pretty good brother who many has said is very pretty and b, an ace boyfriend. When he's not being stupid that is."
"What?" You pluck the card and felt yourself giggle rather than actually make the conscious choice of laughing giddily at an unexpected, pretty present. A smile breaking out from your face, as Helaena observes you over her bowl.
For the lady. Aemy.
"Shit. Your brother really doesn't do apologies half-assed, huh?"
"Apparently not." She places the bowl on the sink, giving you a long, smug look until you look up at her and feel your heart in your throat at the gleam in her blue eyes. "Wanna tell me something?"
"Dunno," you say airily, trying to inhale the floral fumes from farther away than necessary so it isn't so obvious you're totally fucking enamoured with them. Sure they're just flowers. But something about waking up to an unexpected bouquet of the prettiest bunch is sometimes all a girl needs to have a great day. "What do you wanna know?"
"This is a need to know basis, alright?"
"Alright." You hold the bouquet to your chest, unable to stand it any longer, pressing your nose against the fresh, sweet scent as a shield against your best friend's line of inquiry.
"Have you and my brother done the tango?"
"No! Hel, come on! I wouldn't do that to you. Also! That is not part of the plan! I told you I'm not going to fuck the sad out of your brother."
She raises an eyebrow, fighting off a grin in a weird way as she plucks out her bag and starts leaving. "You and 'Aemy' are both adults. I, as her personally also adult big sister, doesn't give a shit."
"Is that permission, are you giving me permission to fuck the sad out of your brother, Helaena Targaryen you sick shit?"
Helaena's cackle leaves much to be desired, and you're much more confused about things.
Gratefully, you have a beautiful bunch of tulips to sweetly assuage you for the time being.
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"Your sister's so weird," you say in the next call you have with him. You're on grocery duty for the month, aimlessly roaming around the aisles whilst he's on the go somewhere in school.
"That's your best friend, mind you," he teases.
"I know, I chose her knowing what she's like." You sigh dramatically, picking up most of the cleaning supplies you and Hel need at the apartment. You enjoyed your weekly routines of deep-cleaning, while Helaena, though not a slob, never enjoyed it when she has her little bugs and critters in the room and you would go all military sergeant at her for the waste that some of the bugs need for nutrition.
"What did she do this time?"
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."
 He laughs lightly and you smile at the sound. "Try me, ñuha riña."
He's on a busy street, the backdrop distinct, so he had pulled his mouth close to the phone. The breathless laugh he emitted, alongside the deep vowel-drawl he spoke his usual endearment shot bolts and shivers across your body.
Stupid Helaena and stupid promissory-approved sad fuckings.
"She said, we're both adults."
"I am aware. You're a very well established adult apart from your manic obsessions with oil diffusers and buying my dog so many treats."
"Shut up, they're not for you, they're for my baby Vhagar. And one, you're just jealous you can't pull out a drawer in your house and offer, 'Oh, kind guest sir, what scent you wanna vibe with today?'"
Another laughter bubbles out of him and you're full on grinning by the aisle with rolls of massive tissues around you. You pick a pack and place it on your cart before continuing.
"Anyway, yeah so she said we're both adults, and we're more than okay doing the adult tango." You snort. "Can you believe— Aemond? Hello? Are you okay?" There's a sound of things falling on concrete, an oof and a swear. "If you got hit by a car just as I'm on the phone with you and I'm the last person on your call history when you die and your mother finds out, I am actually going to debone you."
He's laughing against the phone, a pained sound that is honest and full. "Sorry, sorry, I just tripped a-and my laptop fell—"
"—Dude, oh my god?? Wait, why am I concerned, you can probably buy one right at this moment."
"You—" he butts between laughter. "—you're not making it easy to stand up."
You snort. "Well, damn, Aemy, standup. You can worship me someplace softer than concrete." You blink. The silence stretches as you turn redder. "You know what I mean."
". . .I do," he says softly. "I'm upright now. And I already do, you know."
"What?"
"Worship the ground you walk on."
"Oh, well. Helaena's only kidding, I'm sure, with the permission thing," you say lamely.
He hums. "Sure. But those are two separate things."
The rest of the days follow something like that. Both of you get swallowed up by obligations and time presses on like a soldier, but you make time when it presents itself; and it's easy. Almost like he had always been part of your life like this, engaged in the niches, as if he had always just... existed like this.
The orbit is slow but it is patient. It beams and lazily moves.
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YOU: EMERGENCY
He calls, voice panicked. "What? What happened? Are you okay?"
"Whoa, calm down, cowboy, it's not an emergency like that," you say, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder, a book open between your hands. "Also seems really weird to text you 'Emergency' if I need something urgently. I mean 111 is easy enough to dial."
He sighs, languid and long suffering. You snort. "I would still like to know if you need me in anyway. Even if you don't."
The sincerity burns and lodges itself deep in your throat. You try for a joke. "Okay, boyfie. Noted. I just wanted to ask about a High Valyrian word. Well two words but I already know the other. I'm at the bookstore trying to find good romance books and I came across this endearment and there's no glossary."
"Oh?" A piqued interest is so obvious in his voice that it makes you laugh. "What?"
"Nothing. Nerd. Alright, it's this— ñuha zaldrīzes. I know ñuha means my because it's my favourite nickname given by my favourite person."
A cocky muse goes out of his mouth unfiltered, "You're favourite person, hm?"
"I came for answers, you sad sack of simp, not judgement. You know what, scratch that, I'm calling Aegon." You're only joking, not even going to remove the phone lodged in your neck, but he panics easily.
 "Don't call Aegon. I'm smarter than him."
"Aww, Aemy, are you scared of your big, bad brother?"
He snorts. "Iksan daor zūgagon hen bona doru-borto nuspes. I am not scared of that stupid cow."
Now, you've heard Aemond speak in High Valyrian in increments— his endearment for you the one you know the most — but not in full sentences. But to hear his harsh 'r's, the smooth 'z's and 's' does something to you. You have to remind yourself that you're not just in public, your mouth is also too fucking close to the receiver.
You manage to bat the moan with a barely trembled win.
You don't, however, manage to stop the little squeak in your voice. That surprise little sound that Aemond catches immediately.
He hums, a delightedly dark roll of his throat (how the fuck does someone make that attractive?). There's a certain purr that tilts his voice and whatever the fuck he's saying next, and you barely grasp at thought, much less the intelligence required to make sense of foreign words to you, when he says—
"Gaomagon ao hae skori nyke ȳdragon naejot ao isse Valyrio Eglie, dārilaros? Do you like when I speak to you in High Valyrian, princess?"
You don't know what you say next.
You know they're not words.
If one could truly make sense of what sound you made, it could be called a 'strangled whine totally inappropriate to make in a bookstore and thank god you're the only one in the aisle because holy fuck. Holy fuck'.
And you've never heard Aemond make a laugh so meanly as he does in reply to your strangled— choked— whine, the absolute prat.
"Oh, you absolute whore," you choke out, clearing your throat. "You can't do that, that's illegal. I don't even know what you said!"
"Do you want me to translate?" he teases, and his tone is light again, but there's that tinged. A reminder. A hook. If you want to play more. If it could lead to new things.
You parry instead. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."
"Lady," he reminds. "And Alys... never really responded much. She just asked me to translate."
"Educational purposes, huh?"
He hums in agreement before his voice pitches that way again. A darkened edge to the usual teasing. "But I've always wanted to try it in the bedroom."
If lightning felt like this— a shock shot on the back of your neck, then a bloom of warmth that reaches the tips of your fingers, your hair — then someone call 111 because you just became a statistic.
"Sure," you manage to squeak, trying to shake your head as you pile your arms with books that have Valyrian lords, princes— and ooh, dragonlords, how fantasy — and hoping the sexy scenes have them speaking in the language. "You'll definitely get a woman wanting, Aemy."
He laughs. "Is that jealousy, ñuha riña?"
"No." It really isn't at first, when you said the comment, you just threw it out there. But now the scene is in your head— Aemond whispering filthy things in the language of his ancestors, those hard consonants, that smooth, silky drawl, while he pounds into them — gets you brisk, a flare of anger, and you kinda wanna die because who are you to feel jealous? But the 'No' is brusque, a quick, hard sound, that Aemond catches it like fodder and chuckles.
Fuck, why does he have to laugh so nicely? Why does the mean edge so fucking sexy?
Is this phone sex? This isn't phone sex, you think, bleary and out of your mind, in a hot, hot space and you can't stop yourself. You can end the call and shut it all out, come back when you're a little more levelheaded, but you can't.
"Nyke kivio naejot mērī ȳdragon naejot ao hae bisa, dārilaros, I promise to only speak to you like this, princess." he says against your silence.
"There's that word again. The last one. What is it?"
"Dragon."
You frown. "Dragon?"
"The word you asked about the first time, you've forgotten about it and I never technically answered."
"And you're never telling me this one? You called me a dumbass, didn't you?"
"I most certainly did not. I'll tell you when I meet you soon, I have to go. Geros ilas, dārilaros. Goodbye, princess," he purrs the last part extra saucily just for your poor, poor ears to redden. For your heart to stutter. "Pendagon yno hae nyke va moriot hen ao. Think of me as I always of you."
"You can't do that, Aemy," you say, breathless.
"Do you hate it?"
You close your eyes. "No."
He repeats the word you ask about, one last time before the phone ends.
You still don't know what it means, and that night with your new books, your hand between your thighs and sweat on your skin, you finally find out.
Princess.
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Apart from that day, the next few go on as usual. You both are still too busy to see each other, but you keep up with the contact. It's nice. Comfortable even when you're not in that weird, electric moments that spasms the tension. Neither of you really, truly push the boundaries, but you're always tethering at the edges.
A tug, a push and pull, but no one truly shoves.
It's exhausting but neither of you stop
In between, there are odd, utterly smug looks from Helaena that you push away. You see Cregan less, often times it is him seeking you out. Sometimes you go, sometimes you don't. Sometimes, there are pleasures only your imagination could give but want for more. To be actually realised. But you've never done roleplaying with Cregan, and it feels wrong to be intimate with somebody when another person's face and body fills your head, whispering words only he could say that would have you shuddering into an orgasm to replicate with your own fingers.
The world moves. It breathes, and you exhale with it.
Until three days before the weekend and you receive a text.      
AEMY: Family lunch on Sunday. Would you like to go as my date?
YOU: im hel's date already
He calls.
"Helaena is still at work and mom just sent the message at the family group chat two minutes ago. She hasn't even viewed the message. How are you already her date?"
You laugh, topping off your lipstick smudge with a pinky on the edge. "Well hello to you too, what a fine evening we're having."
"Good evening, you can't be Helaena's date. I asked you first. I am asking you first."
"One, you're not actually asking me, at least, not again, and two, it's a best friend thing. A prerequisite thing."
"Well. I'm asking beyond the prerequisite. Will you please go to Sunday dinner with my family with me?"
"Okay." You laugh together at how fast you agree. "Wouldn't it be weird?"
"We're fake dating, love, it's all part of the plan, right? I've brought Alys to family dinners before, this is just one of those."
And it jolts you when you know it shouldn't. He says it playfully, all part of the fun. You don't know why you're so disappointed, well you do, but it isn't like you had any, actual right to be.
And love. You know Aemond calls Alys that when they dated.
And it irks you, you don't know why, and suddenly, you just don't want to be in this call. You close off your lipstick, pursing your lips. He calls your name when you don't reply too fast.
"You still there?"
"Yeah, just... are you sure we should be telling your family we're dating?"
"Why not? You already come for every Sunday dinner, you're just coming with me instead of Hel," he says. "It will be just like any other Sunday."
Something about that pisses you off and saddens you at the same time.
"Sure," you say brightly, fakely. "Gotta go though, I'm meeting up with someone, text me the details, okay?"
"Meeting up?"
You can't help it, the astonishment in his tongue irks. "I have more friends than you and Hel, Aemy, I'm not a recluse."
"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."
You control your exhale. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, that was mean. Yeah. Cregan Stark, I think I told you about him from before?"
"You're still meeting him?"
"You know about that?"
"Hel said something. I didn't know you were still meeting him."
"Well... I'm not a virgin, Aemy, and it's not like we're real, remember?"
"Right." His agreement is sharp. Halting. "Have fun then."
Before you reply, the call ends.
"Well. Okay. Dick." You shrug. Aemond has a temper, that's nothing new. But it's not like you're doing something wrong, and you're still at that weird, heated headspace that put your thoughts in a whirlwind of a turmoil, so you can't try and fix this with him right now.
Plus, Cregan was offering a good dick without complications. Who are you to say no?
CREGAN: ill pick u up babygirl dw💜😍😘
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Text
𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓡𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓼 - 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓫𝔂𝓾𝓵 𝓓𝓸𝓻𝓶
A/N: Starting off today with a little something I was inspired by. I see some blogs doing hc's like these, so I decided to try it out. Enjoy darlings!
Warnings: Mentions of Riddle's past, Ig kinda angsty on Cater's, Ace is a bitch/aff, violence on Deuce's part
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Pushy and a stickler for the rules 
🌹 Riddle is very new to romantic relationships, and despite his inexperience, he always tries his best to put your needs above everything else 
🌹 Well….except the rules….
🌹 He’s overall a lovely partner, but despite his consideration and being everso the gentleman, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking on eggshells whenever you hang out with him. You now understand what Ace and Deuce are complaining about whenever they spend the night at Ramshackle….
🌹 Rose milk tea instead of Black tea on the second Saturday of the month? OFF WITH YOUR HEAD! Forgot to water the plants a second time when the temperature is over 78 degrees outside? OFF WITH YOUR HEAD! The books are pushed in all the way on the shelf, not leaving five centimeters of space to take it out? OFF WITH YOUR—
🌹 Well, you don’t have magic, so not like collaring you is going to do anything. But he will be angry if the rules are not enforced. He tries to be patient with you and not lose his cool, but this is Riddle we are talking about. No matter what you are to him, he still expects you to be a lady that abides by the rules 
🌹 “Without rules, there would be no structure nor foundation in any relationship. Don’t boundaries work the same?” He has a point, but there is a difference between telling a partner they’re doing something that makes you uncomfortable vs telling your partner the unbirthday party is ruined cause there is no mouse in the teapot….
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Doesn’t call you out 
☘️ You all saw how Riddle turned out, right? Yes, fuck his mother. But also Trey was the one that kept his mouth shut when Riddle was abusing his obsession over the rules which only lead to the overblot
☘️ Have he just said something, lots of bad things could’ve been avoided. It’s not to shift all the blame on Trey, but you can see how the trait of keeping your mouth shut for so long can only cause problems
☘️ Trey loves and cares about you, even accepts your flaws. It’s even one of the reasons he loves you so much! Though….you really wish that he was just a little more honest with you…
☘️ Sometimes, it’s good to a little honest about your partner’s bad habits. Especially if they are looking to improve upon certain things. He’s always ready to help you when you need it, but as for telling you that you’re wrong? You need to calm down and take a few steps back? You need to loosen your grip off the steering wheel? Forget about it
☘️ Having a partner accept your flaws is a wonderful thing, but behind that smile Trey puts up when you hand him the tart that you baked for him and it tastes…salty?
☘️ “Cupcake, you know I was joking about oyster sauce being the secret ingredient in tarts, yeah?” “I know…why, does it not taste good?” “…...…”
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Shallow and Superficial 
♦️ Cater is ever so fun-loving and cheerful, but he gets carried away a lot and you know it
♦️ He got slapped during the Ghost Bride event literally cause he chatted too much and seemed so...fake. Sometimes, girls don't like guys that talk too much
♦️ He was always hiding something a bit more depressing behind his bright smile, but it starts to shine through just a bit when you start dating him. Not that he never cared about you, it's just....he unintentionally can make you feel that way though
♦️ Posting selfies of you guys at a cafe for his Magicam, only for him to be more concerned about the comments he's getting and what filter is the best to use to match his theme
♦️ Having literally no.personal.space when it comes to PDA, giving you smooches in front of all his classmates as if he wants to show you off. It's sweet and kinda cute, but it's almost as if he's putting on a show for everyone else as if you guys are this 'perfect couple' on the outside....
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Can be plain rude 
♥️ It’s no secret Ace can be teasing, sometimes, in a mean-spirited way
♥️ The man loves you, he really does. And be lucky you’re his romantic partner. Anyone else *coughs* Loosey-Deucey *coughs*, and he’s even more rude with poking fun at them
♥️ Yes, he teases people he likes. And yes, he’s an honest man. Ace Trappola is many things, but dishonest is not one of them. It’s actually quite the needed trait that Trey lacks. Ace is blunt and tells you what you need to work on
♥️ While this may seem like a green flag, honesty *is* the best policy, you only wish your boyfriend could say it with a bit more empathy and compassion. Much like his teasing, he’s insensitive towards your feelings at times (the guy has literally ghosted his ex cause she was ‘too boring’)
♥️ If you tell him about this issue, he’ll just see it as another topic to tease you, being too sensitive or whiny, but he will try to work on that. For your sake. I mean, he can’t be the one telling you stuff that you need to work on without doing the same to himself, no?
♥️ Of course, Ace is still so new to the feelings of romance and girls, even after that rocky relationship back in middle school. He needs time to adjust, and don’t expect him to make a 180 in character. You knew the second you signed up to date him that he ain’t Prince Charming 
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Overprotectiveness gone wrong 
♠️ He means well….he really does. Deuce never once hurt you or made you feel unloved. Other people though…..
♠️ He’s another darling partner, but Deuce *was* a big, scary delinquent that, quite literally, everyone feared (keep in mind, this dude was a 14 year old punk that took out several dozen of ARMED dudes when he was UNARMED) 
♠️ You have a guard dog that’s ready to bite someone’s head off, which may sound like a good thing, but is walking passed your bully’s faces stained with blue and black bruises something that *really* makes you feel better?
♠️ “I’m sorry….I screwed up….” He says. It’s a phrase he says over and over again, and although he says it with sincerity every time you get involved with his antics, a sorry doesn’t really cut sending someone to the infirmary for days on end. Especially when the person he beat up wasn’t the one receiving the apology, it was *you* for seeing that side of him
♠️ Essentially, this leads to you being the one to get him out of trouble. Whether it’s explaining the situation to Riddle or a teacher, or patching him up after a fight (I think even one or two times, you had to pay for someone’s mailbox that became collateral damage when he fought one of those street punks back when you two were visiting the Queendom of Roses) 
♠️ He doesn’t see you as a damsel in distress, that’s not it at all! He just….wants to protect you is all. The duty of a card solider is to protect his queen, no? 
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