#again sorry if i sound mean but that's what it looks like
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fastandcarlos · 3 days ago
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Forgotten Thing : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: you know just how busy max is, and you understood too, only now you're starting to feel like the forgotten thing in his life
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The sound of light snores greeted you as you walked into the apartment, unable to stop your eyes from rolling. Your heart raced as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the ground with a loud thud, not caring about the figure asleep in your living room.  
“Max,” you called out, standing to the side of the sofa with your arms folded across your chest. 
The sound of your voice had him stirring, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A smile was on his face for a moment until Max noticed how nice you looked, eyes going wide in horror when he remembered that he had promised to pick you up from work. 
“That was a lovely walk home,” you sarcastically told him, taking a seat on the end of the sofa, “at least you got some rest though, that’s what matters, right?” 
The frustration was clear in your voice as you found yourself let down by Max again. It was becoming a pretty normal feeling for you, to be given empty promises and assured of things that you knew that Max wouldn’t be able to follow through. 
“Don’t be mad, please,” Max asked of you, sitting himself up. “I only planned on closing my eyes for a few minutes, and then I just lost track of time. I mean, all you had to do was walk home from work, it’s hardly the most difficult job in the world. 
Your head shook at how dismissive Max was. “The walk home didn’t bother me Max, it’s the fact that you promised you’d be there. You keep promising and not delivering, it’s like I’m some forgotten, unimportant part of your life.” 
Max brushed his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up, not quite understanding what you were so fed up about. “I’ve been so busy at work recently I obviously just needed the sleep. We can’t all have a job like yours, some of us are working nonstop.” 
“I see, because my job is a walk in the park, isn’t it?” You scoffed. 
You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Max, he’d always seemed to be supportive, but now you weren’t so sure. It was like the two of you were in competition, with Max clearly feeling like he was winning. 
“It’s not the same, how hard I work and how hard you work is very different. I’ve got a flight to catch early tomorrow morning and you’ve got the next two days off, so I’d say I’m slightly more important,” Max argued. 
Your mouth went wide in shock, letting go of a gasp. You didn’t recognise the man in front of you, the man who usually was so caring and sympathetic had turned into someone who couldn’t care less about you. 
“I’ve always looked after you Max, done absolutely anything for you. It’s a shame you can’t do the same for me. I might as well just leave, that’s how you make me feel,” you spoke. 
Max’s eyes widened once again, his body tensing up. You stood up, feeling Max's eyes watching your every move, slowly backing towards the front door. 
“You wouldn’t actually leave,” Max sniggered. 
“Why not? What is there to make me stay anymore?” You challenged, your voice getting louder. “Why shouldn’t I go somewhere where I actually feel valued and appreciated rather as if I’m nothing.” 
“Love,” Max whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel that way, it’s just been so hard for the past couple of weeks. I really did intend on picking you up, I set an alarm and everything, but I must’ve just slept right through it.” 
“If you were tired or stressed Max, you should’ve told me, I’d never have expected you to pick me up if I knew,” you sighed, walking back into the room again. 
“But you’re right, I do keep making promises that I can’t keep, so I wanted to pick you up to prove to you that I care.” Max tapped the space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to sit beside him as his hand rested against your leg. 
“I know that you care about me,” you assured him. 
Max’s head shook, “but I’ve not shown you that, when you’re constantly here caring for me, I just take it for granted, we’re supposed to care for each other.” 
You smiled weakly across at Max, knowing better than anyone just how hard he worked. For all his faults, you could never fault how loved he made you feel, even if his mind was elsewhere sometimes. Your hand reached out and pressed against the side of his face, lips pressing against his cheek, unaware of the way Max’s heart raced with relief at the feeling of your lips on him.  
“If you’re free this weekend, do you fancy coming to the race?” Max asked you, “I’ll make sure that we can spend some time together when I’m not needed at the garage. We can explore, have a proper look around.” 
Your head nodded at his suggestion, excited by the thought of being at a race again. It had been a while, you were never quite sure if Max wanted you there or not, but now he couldn’t imagine himself going to the race without you. 
“You don’t need to do this, I know how hard race weekends are,” you assured him, squeezing against his hand, “I don’t need anything to be made up to me.” 
“But you do,” Max defended, knowing just how badly he’d treated you. “I want to make sure you know that I care, I’m going to make sure that we have the best weekend together too.” 
Max moved his free arm around your frame as he pulled you into his side, pressing several gentle kisses against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was more loving than anything you’d felt from him in a while, letting you know just how sorry he was. 
Once he was done, Max kept his head resting on top of yours. “Whatever you want to do whilst we’re there this weekend, we’ll do. I’ll even drive you around and pick you up from the paddock.” 
“Max,” you whispered, but he quickly shushed you, knowing what you were about to say. 
“Don’t tell me that you understand that it’s alright, because it’s not,” he laughed, reading your mind perfectly. “I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and that needs to be put right.” 
“I do understand, you work so hard.” 
“And so do you,” Max responded, “I never should’ve made it sound like your job doesn’t matter, because it does, you’re the hardest working person I know. I’m sorry.” 
“Stop apologising,” you grinned, pressing your head further into Max’s side, “I know how sorry you are Max.” 
A hum came from him as he leant back on the sofa, cuddling you into his side as he draped his legs over the top of yours. 
“Let’s sleep for a bit,” you suggested, placing your hand on his chest, “I know how much better you sleep when you’ve got someone to cuddle.” 
Max nodded in agreement with you, “you can’t be telling anyone how much I love being cuddled to sleep, people won’t think I’m cool anymore.” 
“Leave me stranded at work again and I might just reveal all your secrets,” you teased. 
“You wouldn’t,” Max challenged, watching your head nod out of the corner of his eye. 
“You wouldn’t want to find out.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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moonstruckme · 2 days ago
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And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 
“Yeah.” 
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 
“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 
“Remus,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 
“No.” 
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 
“Yes, love. Relax.” 
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 
“Ow—Rem!” 
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 
You make your displeasure known through your silence. 
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 
“Is that good?” 
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 
“A little, yeah.” 
“Headache?” 
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 
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kiyo-cant-write · 3 days ago
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Could I have request for first year? You can choose them. About reader inviting to go out with them? Anything, probably going to park or go to restaurant. I'm a sucker for romance.
inviting the first years on a date ✧・゚
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Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long. I write fics with every character/scenario so doing the whole set of first years was a lot of fics, a lot of words. I hope each one is good! I love the first years, especially my boys Epel, Ortho, and Deuce! ^^
Thank you for requesting and feel free to request again!!
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Summary: The reader asks the first years to go on a date. Includes all first years for headcanons and scenarios. This means that it includes: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Ortho Shroud, and Sebek Zigvolt.
TW/CW: None
Notes: established relationship, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is also a first-year/frosh (implied ~16ish)
Guest Stars: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia
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Ace Trappola
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Ace agrees right off the bat. He doesn't bat an eye.
He's even a little miffed [Name] asked him first.
He was planning to ask [Name] out, you know!
But it doesn't matter, the date's happening either way :)
Ace suggests that he and [Name] sneak out.
Something about not wanting to deal with the housewardens.
Even if [Name] protests, Ace will insist on sneaking about.
It's not a good idea but Ace had it so... it's impulsive.
"Come on, [Nickname]," Ace whispered to [Name], "You're gonna get us caught. You want to go on a date or not?"
Trying to make as little sound as possible, Ace came back towards [Name] to help them untangle themself from an unfortunately placed bush that had snagged their clothing. He held an index finger to his lips as he shushed them once more.
He still couldn't believe they asked him out first. The gall.
"If you want to go out at night like this," he continued, "Then you need to get better at sneaking around. Want to get collared?"
"I'm not part of your dorm," [Name] whispered back.
"That doesn't save you anything."
[Name] was about to retort but paused to consider it.
"Yeah," they agreed with a laugh, you're right."
Ace sighed. They were going to make this difficult, huh? If they got caught then what was it all for. Caught before they could even go on the date? That's just... kind of sad.
"Shh! No laughing until we're away from the main building."
"Fine, fine," they agreed, "We'd better not get detention for this."
The last time they had gone with an "Ace Plan" it had caused a week's worth of detention for both of them. The professors did not take kindly to Ace's schemes. They seemed almost disappointed that [Name] was involved with it too, but that didn't spare [Name] from detention.
"Relax, you worry too much. What are you, Deuce?"
[Name] laughed again and Ace covered their mouth with his hand. They moved his hand away a second later to respond.
"I like to think I've got more guts than Deuce."
"Good, then act like it," Ace told them, leading them toward the school gates, "We're gonna have an adventure tonight."
[Name] gave Ace a look. What was he talking about? Going out to the city after dark was their idea for a date. Why was Ace talking big?
"Wasn't this date my idea?" they asked him.
"Yeah, but I can't let you upstage me all the time." Ace smiled at them as he spoke, "I'm gonna get you back for that tenfold."
"For what?"
"Doesn't matter," he responded, taking their hand in his, "Let's go!"
They really loved this guy, even if it meant all the detentions and magic-removing collars in the world. Smiling along with him, [Name] squeezed Ace's hand as they let him lead their way.
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Deuce Spade
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Deuce swears in front of [Name].
"Holy shit."
And then he covers his mouth right after, begging to do it over.
He didn't mean to say it, it was just his instinctual thought!!
Deuce's brain is composed of a long list of curse words and a perpetual fear of being expelled from Night Raven (again).
He tells [Name] that he would be glad to go on a date with them.
Deuce confides that he hasn't been on a date before because of his past in which he thought he was too much of a "bad boy" for that.
He's oddly excited about the date, in a way that makes him seem younger than he already is at sixteen.
Unlike Ace (previous scenario), Deuce thinks that he should ask his upperclassman, so he seeks out Trey in the kitchen.
Deuce, face burning red, led [Name] by hand through the halls of Heartslabyul Dorm. They were headed toward the kitchen to find the bespectacled man who would (hopefully) grant them permission to go on their date. Or, that was about how Deuce explained it and [Name] was just in for the ride now that Deuce had apparently broken some kind of honor student's vow by swearing in front of them.
"Please tell me you're not asking for Trey-san's blessing."
"What?" Deuce turned to look at them, "No! We need to ask permission if we want to go into town."
"We're going into town?" [Name] asked him.
This was far more than they had planned. Deuce nodded. If they were going on a date, a real date, Deuce wanted it to count. And from all the varying media he had consumed in his young life... going on a date meant going into town and doing... Uh. Cute couple-y things.
"I want this to be perfect," Deuce confessed, clearly trying to be cool but failing due to the redness of his cheeks, "You know?"
[Name] nodded.
"Right, perfect, yeah," they agreed.
The two arrived at the doorway into the kitchen of Heartslabyul.
"Clover-senpai?" Deuce asked, poking his head in to see Trey at work mixing some kind of batter, "Do you have a minute?"
[Name] poked in after Deuce, smiling at the smell of sugar from Trey's baking. They hoped they might get some of whatever it was.
"Hm? A minute or two, sure," Trey offered, smiling as he looked toward them, "What's up?"
"Uh," Deuce began, "[Name] and I..."
"[Name] and you...?"
"We were wondering if we could go on a date?"
"I mean, that seems like your decision, not mine," Trey said, teasing the boy for his phrasing just a bit, "But I assume you mean going into town?"
"Ah. Yes!"
Deuce nodded, trying to hide the fact that the redness that had faded was back in full bloom. [Name] felt a bit bad for him and decided to help.
"We wanted to make sure it was alright to go off campus," [Name] added, "Don't want to break any rules. So we came to ask you."
Trey just laughed softly at the two of them.
"It's fine with me, I'll let Riddle know," he told Deuce and [Name], "I assume you'd rather not write the essay to him yourselves."
Deuce nodded once more, looking at [Name] and urging them to nod too. Writing an essay for Riddle was never a fun task. It took more time to write the stupid essay than to do the thing you were writing the essay about.
"Thank you, Clover-senpai," Deuce said, bowing to him.
"Mhm! Thanks, Trey!" [Name] agreed as they mimicked Deuce's action.
Trey smiled at the two underclassmen of his.
"Heh, you two have fun."
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Jack Howl
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Jack is at a loss for words. [Name] wants to go on a date with him?
What is the protocol here?
Part of him wants to ask Leona as an upperclassman...
But then the other guys will laugh at him!!! :(
He nods slowly, face tinged a red slightly.
He agrees to the date and says it would be rude to say "no."
Despite the somewhat gruff answer, his tail is wagging.
If it's pointed out, he will flat-out deny it as it wags faster.
Jack would rather die than let the other guys tease him about his date but God does not favor dogboys today.
In the end though... Leona is a smart guy...
Jack wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when you're asked on a date by the person you like? Do you say "yes"? He wanted to panic, just a tad. This was beyond his typical day, not something that he was used to. Did he have anywhere to turn for advice?
He could ask Leona... No, then Ruggie would laugh at him.
The wolf sighed, composing himself as he turned back to [Name].
"Uh, sure. I'll go with you," he told them.
That wasn't what he wanted to say but that sure was what he said. He had wanted to seem happier about it but his tone wouldn't allow it. Jack found that it was hard to sound how he was feeling. How did the actors in those movies do it? He couldn't express how he was feeling, how could he do that with another person's feelings?
[Name] had just smiled and him and told him they were looking forward to it before they took their leave. What did he do now? Jack was sure there was more to this whole dating business...
But where to start...
"Leona-senpai," Jack said, finding himself in the botanical garden later that same day, "Do you think that people can understand you from a sentence?"
The lion was sleeping or rather he was trying to while Jack asked him questions. It was luck that Jack had been asked to fetch something from the garden for class.
"What?" Leona offered, opening an eye to look at Jack, "Jack, I have no idea what in the fuck you're on about."
"Do you think [Name] understood me?" Jack asked.
"I mean if they're still going on the date, probably," Leona said, closing his eyes with a sigh, "This is one of those things time will tell or whatever. Just go on the date and see what happens."
"You sure?"
"I am. So stop asking me how [Name] feels and get back to class. You need it."
Jack tried to ignore that obvious snub from a guy who was skipping most of his classes on any given day. But... Leona was right. He had to go on this date and see what became of his relationship with [Name] from there. "...Thanks."
"Whatever, can you go now?"
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Epel Felmier
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Epel's first comment is that he would love to go on an outing.
He isn't embarrassed and doesn't think it's a "date" at first.
When [Name] clarifies that it is a date, Epel blushes.
"Ah? Well, if ya want to go somewhere with me, let's do it!"
Even though he feels a bit shy about it, he's still enthusiastic.
Depending on the outing, his energy may return during the date.
Epel thanks [Name] for giving him an out from Vil's makeup lessons. He didn't want to learn about blending properly today.
Mentioning his housewarden he realizes he'll need permission.
Epel asks [Name] if they will help him ask Rook about it.
Epel sighed softly as he came to the realization that as a first year, he would need permission to leave the campus for their date in the mountains. There were only two people to be asked: Housewarden Vil Schoenheit... Or Vice Housewarden Rook Hunt.
"Let's ask Rook-senpai," Epel told [Name], who nodded, "I don't think Vil-senpai would take kindly to me asking him to go into the mountains instead of learn a..."
Epel counted something on his fingers for a moment, hoping that [Name] couldn't see the redness on his cheeks that had yet to fade.
"A... 45-step makeup routine."
Epel looked disgusted at the prospect of the "lesson" and [Name] fought back the urge to laugh at the cute pout on the boy's face.
"That is a lot of steps," [Name] agreed, "Where is Rook-san?"
"Watching..." came Epel's answer, "He usually does the finding."
That was a true statement. Rook usually stumbled across Epel. The use of the phrase "stumble across" is largely for the sound of it as Rook always had eyes on Epel. It was an order from their Queen, after all. He couldn't allow himself to come across the lavender-haired boy by chance, Rook needed to keep a focus on his prey beloved underclassman.
"Hmm, so how do we find him?" [Name] asked which earned a sigh from Epel, "Epel?"
"ROOK-SENPAI! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Epel shouted into the front garden of Pomefiore.
From thin air, Rook Hunt appeared next to Epel and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin despite being the one who had called out to Rook. [Name] was so surprised their scream was silent as their hand flew to their chest in startlement.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Pommette!" Rook greeted with a grin.
"Hi..." Epel said after catching his breath, "Rook-senpai..."
"Did you need something?~" Rook asked, a knowing look crossing his features, "Or were you in need of our Queen, the most Beautiful Vil?"
"No, no! Just you is more than enough, I mean... I needed to ask you somethin' if you have time?" Epel said, the sentence only barely flowing properly.
He wanted to ask the question but his mind worked faster than his lips could parse. The resulting sentence left much to be desired.
"Oh?"
Rook awaited the question.
"I want to go into the mountains with [Name] this weekend," Epel said, "Do I have your, uhm, permission to do that?"
The blond seemed to ponder this for a moment as Epel stood there staring. It was all up to Rook if he was allowed to have his first relationship. He wanted to. Epel wanted this part of a school experience too...
But Vil might not approve, and Rook was loyal to him.
Epel glanced at [Name] for a moment.
Would they be angry if Rook made him say "no"?
"Ah, merveilleux!" Rook spoke, surprising both [Name] and Epel out of their personal thoughts, "Chase after love as I do, Epel!"
What?
Epel didn't know what that meant. Well, he thought it might be approval, but with Rook, one could never tell. So he asked.
"...Uhm. Is that a yes?"
"Oui."
Epel couldn't fight the urge and pumped his fist in the air before composing himself as quickly as he could. Vil didn't see that, Vil wouldn't know... Unless Rook told him. Worries for later.
"Well, I'll see you this weekend, [Name]," Epel told them with a laugh and a sweet smile, "Let's make this one count."
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Ortho Shroud
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[Name] asks Ortho if he would like to see a movie.
Ortho says that he would love to go out with a friend.
He needs to ask his brother if he can go out with you.
[Name] makes a joke that if Ortho were older and perhaps not a robot/android it could be like a "date" for the two of them.
Ortho laughs and agrees that if it were Idia, it would be.
He knows about dates from Idia's visual novel collection and the internet (remember how he has access to the entire web?)
The two decide to prank Idia and tell him it IS a date.
Ortho argues that Idia needs to be surprised once in a while or he would just only play video games and hide in his dorm room.
Idia has a near heart attack over "Ortho's first date."
Ortho is unembarrassed by the question and excited to go!
He doesn't understand what might be embarrassing about an outing with the Prefect. It's not like it's a real date or anything.
Ortho laughed at [Name]'s baffled expression. They seemed shocked that he had agreed. Had they expected some other outcome?
"What? Did you expect me to say no?" the synthetic human asked them, coming just a bit closer, "I'll have you know I like spending time with you too! It's nice to have friends to go places with."
[Name] stuttered out stray sounds for a moment before they were able to phrase anything that was understandable language.
"I just thought you'd be busy since you're always with Idia-san."
"Hehe, my brother does keep me pretty busy," Ortho agreed before pausing, "Oh, that reminds me!"
[Name] looked at Ortho as he spoke.
"We need to ask my brother if I can go with you."
Ortho explained this as if it were obvious and [Name] supposed it was a natural source of events.
"Right now?"
In response to [Name]'s question, Ortho nodded.
"It would be best to do it sooner rather than later."
"Ah, alright!" [Name] replied.
They had expected Idia's consent would be somewhere in the steps it took to ask Ortho on an outing. Hopefully, this won't be too much of a hassle, they thought. The last thing they needed was more chaos.
"Follow me, [Full Name]-san!" Ortho cheered, floating off to guide [Name] from the hallway to the mirror that entered Ignihyde's dormitory.
It was a different kind of dorm, [Name] supposed. Ignihyde did not look anything like the other dorms. Though each dorm was unique, Ignihyde looked from a different time period with some of its elements. [Name] was used to it, though. This was not their first nor last time in this dormitory, however, it was their first time traveling to Idia and Ortho's bedroom.
Without knocking, Ortho opened the door. Before them was Idia Shroud dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while he seemed to be typing one of the longest comments [Name] had ever seen (though they couldn't make out what it said).
"Nii-san!" Ortho called out, making Idia prickle, "I need to ask you something!"
"WHAT?" came a louder-than-normal exclamation from the blue-haired boy, "I mean... Oh, Ortho... Yeah?"
"[Full Name]-san asked me to go to a movie with them this weekend. Am I allowed to go with them?" Ortho asked with a smile, speaking as though it was the most basic question in the world.
In reality, it was a fairly simple question, but not for Idia. The Ignihyde Housewarden froze, feeling the shock of the comment strike him to his core. Idia lunged forward and took Ortho by the shoulders.
"They asked you out on a date?" Idia asked him.
"They want to go to the movies—"
Ortho did not get to finish his sentence.
"A DATE, ORTHO?" Idia continued, louder, ignoring [Name]'s presence intentionally or not as he put Sebek's typical volume to shame.
"We're going to the movies—"
Ortho once again did not get to finish his sentence.
"This is just like the new anime I've been watching, but you're so... You're too young to be experiencing a shoujo anime!"
"Nii-san..." Ortho tried to reason with his older brother.
"Idia-san..." [Name]'s tone mirrored Ortho's.
"Fine, fine. I can't, like, be the opposition. That would be so uncool of me if I were to ruin the interaction between the ML and his love interest," Idia decided.
In the end, Ortho and [Name] never did get to clarify the categorization of their outing with Idia. They supposed he would just get to think whatever it was he thought until it was out of his system.
✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Sebek Zigvolt
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Sebek tries to refuse as he is "busy" with his work as a guard.
Malleus needs him, is his primary argument.
Sadly Malleus is quick to disprove this theory.
Sebek gawks as his master instructs him to participate in the human custom of a "date" to better his homeland.
Sebek is too offended at first to be embarrassed...
But then it sets in and his face is such a bright red it makes his hair look a bit silly with its green color.
He stutters and is unable to talk to [Name] for a minute or so.
He settles on nodding while this happens
In the end, he yells as per usual "OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."
Never a quiet moment with this one.
Sebek wasn't sure what to make of the words the human uttered. They wanted him to do what? That seemed highly inappropriate. Did he need to refuse this offer? He did think it was somewhat tempting, though. He did not hate this human. They were... not as irritating at the other humans at Night Raven College.
"Human," Sebek began, "I am afraid that I must refuse this invitation as I.. cannot forsake my role as a guard to Waka-sama."
He watched as their expression fell even if only slightly.
"Ah, alright then..." they managed to say before an awe-inspiring presence interrupted them.
"Sebek," Malleus spoke, his voice causing Sebek to straighten up more than he had been before the arrival of his master, "What is going on here, exactly?"
"W-Waka-sama," the halfling spoke, stuttering the first bit of his sentence from the surprise, "I was just alerting this human that I cannot leave your side for a... a 'date' of some kind."
Malleus raised an eyebrow.
So this was what it was about.
"And why can you not accompany this child of man?"
[Name] perked up at a mention of them as Sebek fumbled for an answer for the prince.
"Well, you see, I am your guard, after all..." he began, but Sebek soon fell silent under a piercing glare from Malleus.
"Sebek," the fae prince spoke in a low tone, "Will you do something for me?"
"Yes? Yes, of course, sir!"
"Guard this human on the date they have planned, this is imperative to Briar Valley."
Sebek's posture tensed even more at the order as he bowed to Malleus. [Name] stood there baffled by the sight of it all.
"AH! Of course, Waka-sama! Whatever you desire!"
Though Sebek did not notice it, [Name] could have sworn they saw Malleus smirk at the outcome. Had he done this with the intent to help them? They supposed they could always ask him about it later.
"So you can come with me?" [Name] asked Sebek a moment later.
"OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."
[Name] just laughed. The answer was... very Sebek.
✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^
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gojoest · 15 hours ago
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“I can’t believe you let that guy hold your hand”
Satoru was upset. Really upset. You could see it all over his face — jaw clenched, brows furrowed, the vein on his forehead so swollen it was threatening to pop any second now.
“You are being ridiculous”, you sigh. He’s been at it for 3 hours now and you no longer have the energy to try and beat some sense into him, he’s not listening to you anyway. “Please stop”, you ask for what probably is the hundredth time.
“Okay”, he audibly breathes under his nose, but surely doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, nor does he look like he’s given up, judging by the way he’s fervently searching up something on his phone, tapping left and right, downloading all kinds of social apps. “What’s his name?"
“You’re not going to look him up now, are you?”
He can’t be serious, you try to reason internally. He’s just being too silly right now pretending to throw another jealousy fit to show you just how much he loves you and how crazy he is about you, you try to convince yourself.
Yet, the look in his eyes refutes all of your hopes.
He has gone mad. He really is after that guy.
“Bingo. Name, please”
“I don’t remember it”, you let out an exasperated whine.
“Fine, I’ll just have Ijichi track that homewrecker down, then I’ll go deal with him personally myself”
“…”, you sigh once again. “And then what?”
“I’ll cut his hand and burn it”, he nonchalantly blurts out, his eyes focused on his phone as he types out instructions to Ijichi, along with a photo attached to the message.
3 hours ago, when things went terribly wrong
As promised, you were showing Satoru your childhood albums.
He was very eager to see how the mini you looked backed in the day. Basking in the sight of your adorable self from the photos, gushing over your chubby cheeks and cute outfits, he was asking about the story behind each shot and curiously listening to you go on and on about the old times and the little you he didn’t know about.
…that was until a certain group photo from kindergarten caught Satoru’s eyes.
“What’s this”, he pointed at it.
“It’s a group pic from kindergarten when I was four, I think? The teachers made us pair up and hold hands for the photo, and I ended up with this boy here”
Silence. Something was off.
Satoru wasn’t reacting the way he was to the other pictures. His smile was frozen on his lips but it was gone from his eyes, and he was unusually quiet too. The aura he was giving off was definitely eerie, and not the least bit loving.
“Yeah?”, Satoru spoke in a dull voice. “And you let him hold your hand?”
“What?”, you blinked twice. “I—, what?”
“You let another man touch you?”
“A man? He was four, and so was I — we were children, Satoru”, you, in complete disbelief, try to laugh it off. There was no way he could be actually upset about and jealous over something so ridiculous (he was in fact very upset and very jealous, and yes, over something so ridiculous).
“It doesn’t change the fact that this bastard touched what’s mine”, he was gritting his teeth.
“I wasn’t yours back then”, and you were pouring oil into the fire.
“Look, just because we didn’t know each other doesn’t mean you weren’t mine. You were always mine, you just didn’t know it. But that guy—”
You cut him off, “Alright”, and took the photo album from his lap, closing it shut and tucking it under your armpit. “We’re done looking at my childhood pictures”
“Why? Are there more guys holding your hand in there?”, he protested in a high-pitched voice.
“…”
“Oh my god?”, he cried out. “There are?”
Yes, there were. And if he kept looking, by the end of the day, he would turn into a mass murderer.
a/n: mind you, the rest of the pictures are all on friendly terms too, purely platonic. but better safe than sorry! AHAHAH
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daisymbin · 3 days ago
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Mingyu x fem!reader
Angst - 18. "i thought you were different." with reader saying that.
Also happy ending pleeeeaaase 🥺👉👈
thank you for requesting! 🥰
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist!
angst prompt #18: "I thought you were different."
you sat on the edge of the couch, arms tightly crossed as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions racing through you. mingyu stood a few steps away, looking like he was caught in a storm, his expression somewhere between panic and heartbreak.
“it wasn’t what it looked like,” he started, his voice trembling. “please, baby. you have to believe me.”
you let out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the tense silence. “believe you? mingyu, i saw you with her. do you even know what that feels like for me?” your voice cracked, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded.
"baby, i wasn’t—it wasn’t like that,” he stammered, taking a hesitant step forward. “she’s just a friend. she was crying about her boyfriend, and i was just trying to comfort her.”
you shook your head, the image of him leaning close to another girl still fresh in your mind. “you don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i’ve been here before. i’ve seen this before, mingyu. my ex…” your words faltered as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “my ex used to do the same thing. he’d tell me it was nothing, just a friend. and the whole time, he was—” your breath hitched as the painful memories resurfaced. "I thought you were different," you whispered timidly, mingyu doesn't miss the disappointment and heartbreak in your voice.
mingyu’s face crumpled as he took in your words. “sweetheart…” his voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion. “you think i’m like him?” his words were soft, but the hurt behind them was unmistakable.
“i don’t know what to think,” you admitted, your hands gripping your arms tighter as if to shield yourself from the pain. “when i saw you with her, it felt like i was right back there again. it felt like—like i wasn’t enough. like i never will be.”
“don’t say that.” mingyu’s voice broke, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of you, his hands reaching for yours but stopping just short, unsure if you’d let him touch you. “baby, you’re everything to me. everything. how could you even think—” his voice cracked, and he dropped his head, his shoulders trembling.
you looked down at him, his vulnerability catching you off guard. he wasn’t angry. he wasn’t defensive. he was hurt—deeply hurt—and it made your chest ache in a way that felt unbearable.
“i know what he did to you,” mingyu continued, his voice barely audible. “i know how much he hurt you. and it kills me that you’d think i could ever… that you’d see me like that.” he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, glassy with unshed tears. “do you really think i could do that to you? to us?”
you hesitated, his words slowly sinking in. the mingyu you knew wasn’t like that. he wasn’t manipulative, or mean, or sneaky, or cruel. he was open, loving, and kind, and he wore his heart on his sleeve. you’d let your fears and insecurities cloud the truth, and now you could see how much it had hurt him. because mingyu would never intentionally hurt you.
“mingyu, i—” your voice faltered as you tried to find the words. “i don’t think you’re like him. i just… i got scared. i saw you with her, and it felt so familiar, and i panicked.” tears of vulnerability now stream down your face.
his hands finally found yours, and when you didn’t pull away, he clung to them like a lifeline. “i understand,” he said softly. “i just… i don’t ever want you to doubt how much you mean to me. you’re not just someone to me, my love. you’re it. you’re everything.”
the sincerity in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes, made the remaining walls around your heart crumble. slowly, you nodded, your grip on his hands tightening. “i’m sorry,” you whispered. “i shouldn’t have assumed the worst. i should’ve talked to you.”
“no, don't apologise," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “i should have been more aware, i should have been my careful especially knowing what you’ve been through, and i hate that i made you feel like this. but i promise, i’d never hurt you like that. i just couldn’t.” his hand reach out shakily to wipe your tears away.
"I trust you,"
and that was all mingyu needed, the relief that washed over mingyu’s face was immediate and overwhelming. he let out a breath he didnt know he had been holding, and his hands moved to cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. “thank you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “thank you for trusting me.”
“can we… can we just go to bed now?” he asked, his voice soft and almost shy. “i really want need to hold you.”
your chest tightened at his words, and you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “yeah,” you whispered.
he stood up, pulling you gently to your feet and wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you feel safe, cherished. as he led you to the bedroom, you felt the weight of the misunderstanding lift, replaced by the steady warmth of his love.
when you finally settled into bed, mingyu pulled you close, his arms tight around your waist and his face buried in your hair. “i love you,” he murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion but full of certainty. “so much.”
“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing soft patterns on his arm.
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littlelamy · 8 hours ago
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Reader request with Rafe. Maybe she breaks down sobbing in the middle of sex and he has no idea why, thinking he hurt her. Her reasons aren’t bad. As someone that has only been with one person personally, and he was such a selfish uncaring lover, I legit think I would start sobbing in bed if someone was loving and caring towards me and treating me like the most precious thing. Love your writing <3
a/n: thank you so much for requesting...hope you like it!!⭐️
the room was drenched in golden light, the low hum of the bedside lamp the only sound as rafe’s hands roamed your body. his palms were warm against your skin, calloused but soft in their touch, tracing a path down your sides like he was discovering you for the first time. his lips followed, pressing kisses that started at your neck and trailed lower, his breath hot and deliberate.
“you okay?” he murmured, the deep rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your stomach as he paused to look at you.
your lips parted, and though you nodded, the tightness in your throat betrayed you. “yeah,” you whispered. “i’m okay.”
rafe studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly before he leaned down to kiss you again. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but slow, sensual, the kind of kiss that set your skin alight. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as his hand moved lower, slipping between your legs.
“god, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. his fingers stroked you gently, building heat that spread through your entire body, but there was nothing hurried about the way he moved. "my baby, so perfect." he almost purred, everything about him was deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of this—every second of you.
you arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he pressed his body closer to yours. his hips rocked against you, his movements careful but firm, and the pressure sent sparks of pleasure through your veins.
but that was the moment it all became too much.
your chest tightened, your breath hitching as the weight of everything crashed down at once. the tenderness, the patience, the care—it was everything you’d never known, everything you thought you didn’t deserve. and suddenly, the tears came.
a sob tore from your throat, raw and unbidden, cutting through the heated silence like a knife.
rafe froze instantly, his body going rigid above you as his eyes snapped to your face. “y/n?” his voice was sharp with concern, his hands pulling back like he was afraid he’d hurt you. “what—did i—did i hurt you?”
you shook your head, tears spilling freely now as you pressed a trembling hand to your face. “no,” you managed, your voice cracking. “no, you didn’t hurt me. i’m sorry, i—”
“hey, hey,” he interrupted, his hands hovering near your arms but not quite touching. his voice softened, though there was still a note of panic in it. “don’t apologize. just tell me what’s wrong. did i do something? did i push too far?”
you shook your head again, harder this time, your tears soaking into the pillow beneath you. “no, rafe. it’s not you. it’s… it’s me.”
his brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he searched your eyes for answers. “what do you mean? you’re crying, baby. i don’t know what to do.”
the raw vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. you forced yourself to take a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you reached up to touch his face. “i’m crying because you’re too good to me,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.
rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “what?”
“you’re too good to me,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve only ever been with one person before, and he… he didn’t care about me. not really. it was always about him—what he wanted, what he could take. i got used to that, and now… now you’re here, and you’re so kind and patient, and i don’t know how to handle it.”
his expression shifted then, his confusion melting into something softer, though there was an edge of anger in his jaw—anger directed not at you but at the person who had made you feel this way.
“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “that guy? he didn’t deserve you. not for a second. and i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll spend every moment proving to you that you’re worth everything. do you hear me?”
tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time they weren’t born of pain. his words wrapped around you like a balm, soothing wounds you hadn’t realized were still bleeding.
“i don’t want to scare you off,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“scare me off?” rafe repeated, his tone incredulous. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “y/n, you couldn’t scare me off if you tried. i just… i want you to feel safe with me. always.”
“i do,” you said quickly, your voice breaking with urgency. “i do feel safe. that’s why i’m crying, rafe. because i’ve never felt this before. no one’s ever… treated me like this before.”
his lips pressed to your forehead, lingering there as he exhaled deeply. “then we’ll go slow,” he murmured against your skin. “as slow as you need. or we can stop altogether. whatever you want, baby.”
“no,” you said firmly, your hands curling around his wrists to keep him close. “i don’t want to stop. i just… needed to tell you. needed you to know why i’m like this.”
his eyes searched yours for a long moment before he nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “okay,” he said simply. “but promise me, if you ever need to stop, you’ll tell me. no matter what.”
“i promise,” you whispered, your voice steadier now.
he kissed you again, but this time it was different. there was still care in the way his lips moved against yours, but now there was something deeper, something hungrier. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hips rolled forward, the friction sending a gasp spilling from your lips.
“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed wet kisses to your skin. his body moved against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.
and this time, you let yourself feel it. you let yourself drown in the way he touched you, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. because for the first time in a long time, you believed that maybe—just maybe—you were.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog
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dissapointu · 3 days ago
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Drabbles: Arcane Characters and Their Partner with Noise Sensitivity————————————————————————-
Jinx
Jinx’s ears perk up when she hears you wince from the sound of her latest explosion.
“Oops, sorry! I didn’t think it’d be that loud,” she says, her wide eyes filling with concern as she looks at you.
When you tell her that certain noises make it hard to concentrate, she instantly softens. “I didn’t know! I’ll try to keep it down for you. I can go do something else! We could paint, or, or—what do you wanna do?”
Jinx is almost too eager to make it up to you, trying her best to keep her chaotic nature in check for your comfort. She’ll find a quieter way to get her energy out.
Vi
Vi instantly notices the discomfort on your face when the sounds of clinking bottles in the bar grow too loud for your liking.
“Hey, you alright?” she asks, stepping closer. Her hand rests lightly on your back, her brows furrowed.
You explain your sensitivity, and Vi nods. “Gotcha. Let’s take a walk, yeah? You don’t gotta deal with this if it’s too much.”
She guides you to a quieter part of the city, letting you regain your calm. Vi’s more than willing to do anything to keep you comfortable, even if it means skipping out on a fun night.
Sevika
Sevika’s usually the type to blend into her surroundings, but when she sees you flinch from a loud noise, she’s quick to respond.
“Hey, relax. You okay?” she asks, her tone surprisingly soft.
You nod, but she can see the tension in your shoulders. “I’ll handle it,” she mutters, pulling you out of the crowded room.
Sevika’s not one to fuss, but she’s quick to clear the space around you. If things get too noisy, she’ll stand between you and the chaos, keeping a protective arm around you until you feel comfortable again.
Silco
Silco’s sharp eyes notice your discomfort when a sudden loud crash echoes through the room.
“You’re alright,” he says, his voice calm, yet filled with a rare tenderness. “Let’s move away from the noise.”
Without a word, he leads you to a quieter corner, his arm gently guiding you. Silco doesn’t need to ask; he just knows. When you rest your head on his shoulder, he stays silent, letting the peace of the moment settle around you both.
He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but you can feel how protective he is, ensuring that you’re never exposed to unnecessary noise.
Vander
Vander watches with concern as you flinch at a particularly loud noise, his large frame blocking the loud chatter around you.
“Easy there,” he murmurs, his deep voice a comfort.
When you explain your sensitivity to sound, Vander leads you outside, away from the hustle of the bar. “I should’ve known. We don’t need to be in the middle of all this. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
With him, the noise never lasts long. He’ll make sure you’re in a calm environment, allowing you to relax before returning to the crowd.
Ekko
Ekko notices the way your face scrunches in discomfort at the ambient noise around you, his heart sinking.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.
When you tell him about your noise sensitivity, Ekko’s response is immediate. He pulls out a pair of noise-canceling headphones from his backpack and hands them to you. “Try these. It might help.”
Later, when he sees you more relaxed, he’s glad to know you’re okay, and he’ll always carry his headphones from that day on, ready to help whenever things get too loud.
Jayce
Jayce immediately notices the strain on your face when a loud sound echoes from the lab. His gaze softens with sympathy.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize it would be so noisy.”
He quickly pulls you away from the source of the sound, leading you to a quieter part of the building. “Let’s get you somewhere calm, yeah? We’ll figure out how to work around this.”
Jayce listens to you, adjusting his work environment to avoid triggering your sensitivity. He’s quick to adapt, eager to ensure you’re comfortable while he continues his research.
Viktor
Viktor’s focus on his experiments falters when he hears your soft wince at a sudden noise from his machine.
“Apologies,” he says immediately, his tone gentle. “I hadn’t realized that would be too loud.”
He ushers you away from the lab equipment, leading you to a more peaceful area. Viktor’s always incredibly thoughtful when it comes to your well-being, taking extra care to minimize any loud noises during his work.
He might tinker with his devices and inventions to reduce their volume, but he’ll always prioritize your comfort first.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn’s eyes widen when she notices your discomfort at the noise from the bustling crowd around you.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her hand brushing against yours.
You explain your sensitivity to noise, and Caitlyn quickly takes action, leading you to a quieter, more secluded part of Piltover. “I should’ve noticed sooner. Let’s just take a breather, alright?”
She’s careful to ensure that you’re always in a comfortable environment, using her position as a protector to make sure no overwhelming noise ever affects you. Caitlyn is quick to shield you from the chaos of the world when you need it most.
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bloggerspam · 51 minutes ago
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Steph's new year resolution is to spend actual time with Val.
First step: Val's phone number.
Asking Jason will be a bust. He's Val's boss, a good one, so Steph won't even bother asking when she knows he won't divulge employee information like that.
That leaves asking Val herself, or passing a note along with Jason.
She trusts Jason, she does. He's leagues better than if Steph were to ask Dick, or even Tim.
She'd rather get made fun of, in that loving way Jason does, than be smothered and inundated with questions and screams the way Dick and Tim do.
But Jason is a good boss, and Steph's grown up with too many Bats to know what the normal boundary is between employee and employer.
So, obviously, she stalks Jason at work in her free time to see if Val works any of those shifts to ask her herself.
She hits money on the third day.
"Val!" Steph saunters over with a wide smile. "I haven't seen you since Riddler took you away."
"Hey, Steph." Val looks so cute when she's flustered, "Yeah, sorry about that."
Val's working on a car, in that delicious coverall grease monkey look, doing a simple oil change. Steph perches herself delicately on the side, so as to not be in the way.
"I'm just glad you're okay," Steph pouts, "It's dangerous to go towards the Rogues, you know."
"Oh, well…" Val laughs nervously, smudging more grease when she rubs at the back of her neck "Y'know, Amity Parkers are just built different I guess."
"I have no doubt that you…handled yourself just fine," Steph placates, leaning forward a bit to run a finger down Val's well muscled biceps, "but I would feel so much better if you played by Gotham rules…"
Val does that nervous little laugh again, breathy, and gods does Steph want to ruin her.
"I can try," Val bites her lip, "But with friends like Danny…"
Steph giggles. "He's a trouble magnet huh?"
"You have no idea." Val smiles helplessly, and they get caught like that for a long moment.
Val's eyes skip back and forth between hers, even flicking to Steph's lips for a scant second, making Steph's heart skip a million beats.
But then Val coughs, breaking eye contact to reach under the hood to do…something. Steph's too busy mourning the death of a moment to really figure it out.
But Steph is nothing if not persistent.
"So, hey, speaking of friends…" Steph clears her throat, "You go to Gotham U, right?"
"Yeah," Val confirms, flicking a glance over at her as she shuts the car hood, "Early education major."
Steph pauses. Because what are the chances? "No way."
Val hunches her shoulders up, "I know, doesn't really suit me but—"
"No!" Steph frantically interrupts, "That's not what I meant, it's just, I'm a human development major!"
Val stares at her, uncomprehending, which is fair. Steph smiles helplessly as she explains, "I want to be an special education teacher, for teens with learning disabilities."
Val blinks. "…How have we not seen each other on campus?"
"I have a night job, so I take a lot of my classes online." Steph explains, "The ones I do have to go in person for are late afternoon classes, usually Wednesdays."
"Ah." Val nods in understanding, "I take mostly morning classes, and afternoon shifts here at the shop."
"Like ships in the night," Steph smiles ruefully, "Or bikes in the afternoon, I guess."
Val laughs, voice a yummy timbre that brings a little shiver down her spine. There's a rasp to her, and her accent makes everything sound so much nicer.
"That means this will work out." Steph gets them back on track, feeling all sorts of nervous.
"What will?" Val wipes her hands on a rag, tossing it over her shoulder as she leans on the car next to her.
"I wanted to see if you wanted to study together some time," Steph bats her eyelashes, "With my schedule being the way it is, it's kind of hard for me to make friends…"
"S-sure, yeah, sounds great." Val stutters, patting her pockets for her phone, only to realize she's in her coveralls. "Ah…"
"Just dictate it to me, and I'll text you so you'll have mine." Steph giggles, pulling out her phone and creating the new contact as Val gives her the info.
"And hey, maybe we could spar some too," Steph eyes Val's biceps, remembering the little brawl she and Danny had and licking her lips, "It's one of my new years resolutions to keep fit."
"I'm not an easy opponent y'know." Val smirks, looking Steph up and down and sparking shivers with her gaze.
"Trust me," Steph mutters as she sends of a winky face text, "I know."
(Val, without Steph's knowledge, doesn't realize it's flirting flirting.
She just thinks it's Steph's personality, being flirty with the winky face.
Sam bangs her head on her desk when Val texts her so.)
===
Danny is visiting on Valentines Day, in protest to the holiday itself.
Danny's always kind of hated holidays in general, now that Val thinks about it.
Tucker says it's leftover trauma from the school bullying, Sam says it's because his parents are assholes about them. Val just thinks Danny hates capitalism.
It could be all of the above, honestly.
The point is, it's Valentine's Day and Danny has just texted her that he's on his way to Gotham to hang out with her, and Val's not sure if this means Jay's done something wrong or not.
Val has been talking to her friends on almost a daily basis, but Danny's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jay.
After Christmas Break, after the phone number exchange, Team "Get that D in Danny" thought it was a done deal.
Jay was a straight forward kind of guy, and Danny's never been shy about flirting.
Surely, something should have happened, right?
But Val wasn't really present when Danny and Sam were sort of dating, and Val was in the relationship with Danny, so she doesn't actually know how Danny is when he's dating someone.
She's been taking her cues from Tucker, who says that Danny isn't really the "my girlfriend/boyfriend" type. Danny's always referred to Sam and Val, in their respective relationships, by their names.
But then again, everyone in Amity Park knew each other, and ghosts hardly ever care about such mortal statuses. (Ignoring Johnny and Kitty, whose whole shtick is their relationship. That's a whole different can of worms.)
The point is, Val is suffering. Team "Get that D in Danny" is suffering.
And she needs to know if she has to beat up her boss for Danny or not.
Jay's been Fort Knox about the whole thing too, and it's getting irritating.
"Danny's coming to pick me up." Val finally says at the end of her shift, glaring up at her boss. "What did you do?"
Jay, wide eyed and covered in grease, drops the washer fluid in his hands on his (thankfully) steel-toed boot.
"Danny's what—" Jay lunges for his jacket, draped over his workstation, frantically pulling up his phone and— "I gotta go."
She then watches her boss, resident Crime Lord, Billionaire baby Jason Peters Todd-Wayne, book it to the back rooms.
What the fuck?
Ten minutes later, Jay comes back out, freshly showered and in clean, fitted clothes. He's even got a red rose from…somewhere.
Val reiterates: What the fuck?
"Danny hates red roses." Val says, confusion laced through her entire fucking being. They look too much like blood blossoms for any of the Amity Parkers to have any sort of affection for the flower. "He doesn't like red flowers in general."
Jay immediately tosses it into a nearby oil catch tray, looking like he might even set it on fire, if he could just find a match…
"Okay, seriously," Val puts her hands on her hips, "What the fuck is going on? Was that an apology rose?"
"What?" Jay whips his head towards her, "No!"
"Gods," Val throws her hands up in exasperation, "Are y'all dating or what? Danny's been weirdly adamant y'all are just hangin' out but I see you in here, moonin' and what not."
Her accent is getting worse in her agitation and she really hates it, which turns into a vicious cycle.
"We're not dating." Jay finally admits, sitting heavily down on one of the stools by his workstation. "But I am wooing him."
There's a long beat of silence.
"Pardon?" Val's voice is flat, disbelieving. "You're what?"
"Wooing." Jason juts his chin out, "We've done a couple of face time hang outs, streamed movies together and stuff. But it just never seemed the right time to ask him for a visit, or for me to go visit him."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Val tries to soften her voice. Red Hood, resident crime lord and bad ass, is a romantic. Huh.
"I wanted to ask him in person." Jay mumbles, "Important stuff's for in person conversations."
"In this day and age?" Val asks unthinkingly. "I doubt Danny would care."
They both know he'd probably say yes.
"Yeah, but Danny's been…he's been looking into schools to transfer to," Jay looks down at his hands, "Didn't want to influence the choices."
Danny had come out to this parents about Phantom just last month. It was a development everyone was not only extremely thankful for, but still getting used to.
The Fentons, as expected, were fully supportive. They turned a dime, burned their research metaphorically and literally to 'start over from an unbigoted perspective.'
Jazz has been thoroughly enjoying the family therapy sessions.
Schedules were created, to lessen Danny's load, and better safety locks were made to mitigate the necessity of those patrols in the first place.
Overall, Danny's been sleeping more, less stressed, and happy as a clam, if a little embarrassed by his parent's smothering love and support.
Val had thought that maybe Jay was a big part of that too, romantically speaking. Clearly, she was only half right.
"Danny loves Gotham." Val starts, carefully picking her words. Because it's true, he loves it more than she does. "He likes how weird and crazy it is, and Gotham U's engineering program is one of the best in the nation."
It would have to be, with how often things need to be reconstructed around here.
"The pizza's great too," Danny's voice suddenly cuts in from behind her, "Not to mention the company."
Val twirls around, hearing the clatter of Jay jumping up suddenly and banging his hip on his worktable with a pained hiss.
"How long have you be standing there?" Jay squeaks as he rubs his hip, face burning.
"Not long, since Val said I love Gotham. Which I do." Danny tilts his head with a confused smile. "Why? Gossiping about me?"
"We were talking about your choices in transfer." Val quickly covers, as much fun as it would be to just call both of them out, Val's not that mean. "Didn't want to accidentally influence the choice or anythin', y'know."
"Last time I checked you were looking into Star City, right?" Jay quickly adds, shooting Val a grateful look.
"Yep." Danny grins, popping the 'p' obnoxiously, "They've got a pretty comprehensive scholarship, but it's about the same as Gotham's, and honestly, Gotham's in my top two choices—"
"Gotham's a top choice?" Jay cuts in, confused but sounding a little…hopeful, "Nobody ever…I mean, even I know Gotham's crazy…"
"Gotham's a lot like Amity Park," Danny shrugs, before looking away with alarmingly red ears, "Just bigger, more goth. Plus, y'know, you and Val are here…not to mention the rogues here are way more fun than Amity's ghostly menagerie…"
"Are you sure you don't mean the vigilantes?" Val smirks, sensing an opportunity. "Or maybe a certain vigilante?"
"Mmm…nope." Danny feigns thinking hard about it. "I definitely meant the rogues."
"Uh huh…" Val drags out, "Nothing at all to do with your third place hall pass pick."
"Hall pass pick?" Hook, line, and sinker. Jay tilts his head. "What's that?"
"It's a list of celebrities monogamous couples will allow their significant other to sleep with and not count as cheating." Val innocently explains, gleefully watching Danny squirm. "It was mostly a joke, but me and Danny had one when we were dating."
"And heroes and vigilantes are basically celebrities," Jay follows the line of thought, before his eyes get a little gleam to them, "Which Bat does Danny have a celeb crush on?"
"No-one!" Danny hastily answers. Val wonders what Jay would do to his siblings if Danny did have a celeb crush on them.
"Red Hood." Val smiles with all her fucking pearly whites. "Danny likes bad boys."
Danny makes a noise like a tea kettle. "Don't judge me!!!"
To Val, Jay looks like he doesn't know whether to be flattered, or concerned.
To Danny, he must look thoroughly confused.
"Listen," Danny tries to explain himself, "Have you seen those thigh holsters???"
Jay chokes. Val laughs her fucking ass off.
(The three of them get pizza afterward.
Val missed her opportunity to leave them to it, and has to sit there and watch Jason stare at Danny making porno noises at how good the pizza is.
She texts Steph about how much she hates Valentine's Day because of it.
Until, of course, Steph joins in and she hates it a little less.)
===
Easter break, and Steph is bored out of her god damn mind.
She texts Cass first, then Babs, but one's in dance practice and the other's working a shift at the library.
Naturally, she texts Val next, sending over a selfie of her pouting and sad, with an appropriately dramatic lovelorn caption.
She gets back a picture of Sam, Tucker, and Danny fighting each other on a couch, controllers in hand with a glow reflecting against their faces in a dark, but massive looking room.
"Back home in the trenches," Steph reads aloud, sighing and lovesick.
They've been texting back and forth for the past month now, and honestly? Steph considers them dating.
The problem is, even when Steph says "it's a date!" Val just…doesn't seem to get it.
Steph would call it a straight girl move, if she didn't know 100% that Val at least thinks Steph's sexy af.
Or, at least, really wants to kiss her, if the way the other girl stares at Steph's lips is anything to go by.
And Val stares a lot.
But she always pulls back with a nervous laugh, as if Steph is the one rejecting her.
It's very frustrating, but Steph has learned that Val doesn't actually have a lot of experience with girls, so she might just be…shy.
But! At least they've been on study dates, and sparring dates, and one time they even got froyo!
Steph's been trying really hard to be patient.
It's not really working.
There's another ding! It's Cass, telling her to come over to Wayne Manor. The Batkids are having a sudden movie marathon.
She has a lot of fun with her family, watching terrible horror movies and throwing popcorn at all the stupid people doing stupid things. She sends Val a selfie of her cuddling up with Cass and Damian, of Dick and Jason dumping buckets of popcorn on each other, of Tim and Duke taking god damn notes.
It's even more fun when Val sends pictures back. Of Sam sitting on Tucker and Danny laughing so hard he's fallen off the sofa. There's a selfie of Val and Sam painting the boy's nails in bright neon green color, and a selfie of the group in matching ghost themed pajamas, what looks like Wallace and Gromit playing on the big screen behind them. A picture where Danny and Tucker are snoring, cuddling each other very intimately, with Sam in the background doing a little peace sign.
Steph's buried under Tim's legs and Dick's arms now, hardly able to send a selfie of her face with the way it's covered in limbs, but she manages it.
Val sends one back, in a darkened room where Sam is watching some movie next to the sleeping boys. Val's sleepy smile and half lidded gaze warms her up from the inside.
It's a great night, all in all.
She dreams of soft kisses, warm cuddles, and B grade horror movie kiss scenes with a smile on her face, she's sure of it.
(Steph wakes up to someone rudely tearing off the blanket she was sharing with Cass and loudly announcing it's breakfast.
She throws a pillow at Damian for it, who scoffs and dodges her 'paltry attempt.' Her head hurts from all the sugar she consumed last night, and there's an ache in her back from sleeping on the floor.
Val sent her a good morning text and rumpled selfie that features a soft smile, and Tucker two steps away from spilling pancakes all over Val.
Steph eats breakfast with such a wide smile, Duke asks if she won the lottery or something.)
===
It's looking to be a very hot summer in Gotham, if April is anything to go by.
Isn't April supposed to be full of showers? They had an abrupt chill last week due to Mr. Freeze, but since then it's been hot and Val is suffering.
But Danny has come 'round to visit, and it gives her the energy she needs to get through the day so she can hang out with them over the weekend. Danny's always run cold, and Val's never been shy of siphoning off that chill in the summertime.
Val didn't have a shift today, so Danny picked her up from school and they've decided that pancakes and waffles are in order.
It's 2pm on a Thursday, but that hardly even matters.
What matters is that Danny is wrong and waffles are clearly more superior than pancakes.
"You can throw pancakes like a frisbee, what are you even saying," Danny rolls his eyes as they cut through an alley to get the Denny's, "Waffles are way too crunchy."
"I want to look inside your head and see what delusion is playing 24/7," Val shoots back, "Why would a food need to be used as a frisbee to be superior, first of all, and second of all, the texture is not crunchy."
"The inside of my head is just like any other human," Danny scoffs, "It's been tested and everything. Plus, if you can't use your food item as a frisbee in order to quell the sausage rebellion, is it even worth having as food?"
Val squints her friend for a moment, even going so far as to pause her walking. Danny, after another moment, stops with her but does not meet her eyes.
She smacks the back of his head.
"Ow! What the fuck Val! Just because I'm right!"
"No joking about tests." Val growls, waiting until Danny shows the appropriate amount of regret, before swiftly getting back on topic, "Besides. Waffles are sturdier, and the shape can still be used as a frisbee against sausage rebellions."
Danny takes a breath for the admonishment, centering himself from bad memories. He thinks on her latter statement, nodding reluctantly. "Textures still shit though."
Val groans, continuing their way through the alley, "The texture is so that syrup has places to be, syrup on pancakes just slides off—"
"Hands up!" Just in front of them, a man is brandishing a knife in one hand, with the other reaching palm up, "Give me your wallets and nobody gets hurt."
Val internally scoffs, making eye contact with a gleeful Danny. He's been involved in more Rogue incidents than Val has, and he doesn't even live here.
"Aw, c'mon man," Danny simpers, hands in his pockets and shoulders scrunching up, "Can't you see we're just poor college students just trying to get to Denny's?"
"And you and your girl can go along your merry way," The mugger rasps, "after you give me your wallets. You can take the date home."
Val and Danny simultaneously make an uck sound.
"Been there," Danny grins, ruefully.
"Done that." Val rolls her eyes.
"Got the scars and everything to prove it!" Danny chirps, showing his lichtenberg scars even though they're irrelevant.
Val smacks him upside the head again, but Danny doesn't even flinch. Stupid halfa-biology.
"Just give me the money!" The mugger loses his patience, pulling out a gun. Ugh.
"And why don't you give me a break," A modulated voice says from above, before something large drops down and breaks the mugger's arm.
"Hah! Break, that's a good one." Danny laughs.
Red Hood freezes, before groaning with that modulated voice. "Nobody tell Nightwing. I'd never live it down."
Val bites her lip, wondering if Nightwing is Dick Grayson, the asshole cop who arrested her and Danny a couple months ago. Dude was not subtle in the interrogation of his sibling's new friends, and kept riffing with Danny using puns.
Val hates the guy on that principle alone, so it won't be hard.
"Lips are sealed, Bo—ahem—ig guy." Val really has to figure out the best time to let her boss know that she knows.
"Thanks for saving us, Red Hood, sir." Danny smiles at Hood, shy-like. "I didn't think we'd see you again after…"
"That thing with Riddler?" Even through the modulator is apparent Hood is smiling. "I thought you were finding trouble on purpose, but maybe trouble just likes to find you?"
Val's gotta hand it to him, Jay's a good actor. But as someone who knows who he is? It's clear that Hood is relishing the attention. Finding out your crime lord persona is a top choice must have outweighed the confusion of a crime lord persona being a top choice.
"Either way, it's no problem. Punks shouldn't be muggin' in my territory anyway." Hood peacocks his way into a casual leaning pose, and it's funny as all hell.
"Oh!" Danny looks around, "I didn't realize we were already in Crime Alley?"
"The one Denny's in Gotham is in Crime Alley," Val sighs, "I told you this."
"I thought we established that I don't listen to you." Danny retorts, "That's why we broke up."
"We broke up because of your clear preference for dick, Danny." Val drawls.
Hood chokes.
"This is bullying," Danny jokes, ears bright red from Val no doubt embarrassing him in front of his favorite vigilante, "And you have no leg to stand on, with the way you were drooling after Kate Winslet."
"Most of your hall pass picks were men," Val reminds him, and because she's nothing if not an opportunist, "Speaking of which—-what's it like to be texting one of them almost every day?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Danny sniffs, trying to pull Val through the alley, "Why do you keep bringing up my hall pass picks anyway?"
"Everyday?" Hood's voice, even modulated, sounds jealous. He's probably wondering if Danny's been texting the other top two choices above him.
"Yeah, everyday." Val confirms, much to Danny's dismay.
"Val!" Danny hisses as Hood leans a little closer. "Shut up."
Danny's probably thinking she might embarrass him by mentioning that Red Hood is Danny's third place pick. If only he knew.
"My boss is his fourth place pick." Val grins, as Danny slumps in relief. If only he knew!
She watches intently as Hood freezes, hand going to a pocket that isn't there, almost like he wants to immediately text someone. He seems to settle for a slow drawl, "S'that so. Small world. You work for a vigilante I know or something?"
Damn good actor, but not subtle enough for someone whose looking. He's definitely warring with a bunch of different emotions, and even through the helmet she can tell.
He wants to know why his civilian identity is fourth, when his crime lord persona is third.
"O-KAY!" Danny yells, pulling her more forcefully, "That's enough of oversharing with a crime lord who doesn't know us and clearly has other things to do. Thank you again Mr. Hood, big fan, love your work, the 8 heads was inspired really—"
Val cackles all the way through the alley, watching as Hood grapples away in a daze.
When they sit down at Denny's, Danny gets a text from Jay that makes him mumble into his menu.
"Why does he want to know my top two hall pass picks? I'm not even in a relationship!"
Val tosses a jam packet at his head.
(Steph texts her afterward, asking about Val's Hall Pass picks.
Val texts her no comment.
Somehow, Jay finds out, which leads to Danny finding out.
Danny texts Steph that Kate Winslet, Amanda Seyfried, and Black Canary were her top 3.
When Steph texts All Blondes, huh? Val lunges at Danny right there in the Denny's.
They get kicked out, and are summarily banned from the establishment.)
===
Gotham is muggy in May.
Steph hates how sticky it makes her skin feel, how lethargic her body gets, and most of all, she hates how her she stupidly made her Spoiler uniform have a lower face mask.
She's definitely going to get pimples, and it's going to suck.
The bright side is that she's best friends with not just one, but two Wayne kids.
This means that she can enjoy the Wayne Manor indoor pool with the other Batkids for most of the summer day until patrol time.
It's good to have connections.
She's relaxing with Babs and Tim on the lounge chairs, and whilst normally she would join in on the watergun fight the other batboys and Cass have going on, she's just too tired.
It's been a long first week of summer, especially with that Mad Hatter case she and Cass broke two days ago.
Mad Hatter cases always gave her the heebie jeebies, considering her own blonde hair and blue eyes.
So: chilling at the pool. Val comes back next week, with a bonus Danny in tow to start the process of finding an apartment for both of them to share, and Steph's not the only one excited about it.
Jason's been over the god damn moon.
Her phone buzzes with two incoming texts, but before Steph can even reach over to grab it, a loud thump! startles all vigilantes to whip up towards the sound.
Jason has tripped over a lounge chair, ass over kettle, groaning.
Amidst the laughter, Steph gets another buzz, so she checks her phone. It's two discord messages from Val.
valerino: Phantoms dog has invaded sams pool valerino: D's really excited about it 🙄
The last text is a photo of Danny, shirtless, getting absolutely slobbered on by a glowing green dog. Holy shit. Wait a second.
stephieeee: uhm???? green dog????? stephieeee: did u send this pic to Jason too? valerino: Yeah, long story short, hes a ghost dog. Hes cool though. And what? No, why? stephieeee: cuz he just ate shit tripping on a lounge chair stephieeee: right after u sent that pic valerino: Lol danny sent a selfie i think. We're taking a break from a water fight tucker started to play with cujo stephieeee: lolllllll stephieeee: that tracks stephieeee: we had a water gun fight too stephieeee: but i sat out with the girlies stephieeee: the heat is just stephieeee: Too Much valerino: Lol danny just showed me the pic he sent. Its a thirst trap, and he didnt even know valerino sent an image
The picture of of a shirtless Danny, with abs, holding up a see through, green dog. His arm muscles glisten in the lighting as he smiles a beaming smile, teeth white and gleaming, with his face smooshed up against the dog's stretchy, pudgy little face. It's adorable and all kind of rippling muscle-y. Boy is lean, mean, and looking good in his NASA swimming trunks, even to Steph.
stephieeee: OMGGGGG stephieeee: hes actually RIPPED??? stephieeee: also i love cujo so much? he's adorable???? valerino: Hes stronger than he looks, remember? lol and yeah, cujos a real sweetheart
Steph honks out a laugh so loud it echoes even amidst the clamour of Jason being chased around for his phone. Babs hums an intrigued note, but Steph simply smiles at her and flaps a hand at where Dick has Jason in a headlock, whilst Damian grabs the phone and attempts to hack into it.
Steph decides to take a picture of the rowdy group, Jason with his really red face, Duke and Harper jeering at the photo with Dick. Damian had gotten bored once he saw it was just a picture from his so-called 'paramour.'
stephieeee: the fam is never letting him live this down stephieeee: plssssss stephieeee: Jason is so down bad its embarrraasssssiinnngggg
Satisfied, Steph decides to get up and grab some of the iced tea Alfred left for them earlier. She's taking a much deserved sip to soothe her throat when she her phone buzzes twice more.
valerino has sent an image valerino: Danny is embarrassed as all hell, his face is SO red!
It's a selfie of Val laughing with her whole body, sort of cut off as Danny scrambles to get a shirt on. He's alarmingly red, looking like he's tripped in his haste to get the Red Hood themed shirt on, but Steph can't focus on that.
She focuses on Val, wet in a bikini top and daisy dukes.
Steph chokes on her tea and falls into the pool, cup and phone and all.
At least, Steph thinks as she recovers from her almost death-by-bikini-pic fall, my phone is bat certified and waterproof.
She takes another quick look at the photo, before she dunks herself in once more, just to cool her flaming cheeks down.
Tim'll fish her out, if only to see what happened.
Until then, the water feels great.
(Val and Danny get a series of photos after, from an unknown number that claims to be Jay's brother Tim.
One of Jay and Steph red faced and commiserating with each other. They're clearly talking about something, hands gesturing at what looks like Jay's phone.
One of Steph in a simple purple bikini emerging from the pool glorious and slicking back her hair out of her face, eyes half open, looking sultry as she catches sight of the camera.
One of a shirtless Jay getting shot by multiple streams of water, one arm up and laughing and smiling, handsome and joyous.
One of Jason, toppled over a lounge chair with his hands covering his clearly red face.
One of Steph with only her eyes above the water, cheeks and neck so red you can still see them even submerged.
Val and Danny practically faint. Sam and Tucker have to write their thank you texts for them.)
===
"I might be dying." Val groans from where she's sprawled on the floor of the new apartment she and Danny are sharing for their duration of Sophomore year.
It's a nice place, for the Narrows. Big living room, two bedrooms, a nice bathroom that heats up in only a couple minutes. The kitchen isn't anything fancy, just a stove top and a microwave, but Val and Danny don't have the capability of cooking up fancy stuff anyway.
Val's stuff was packed up easy, not hard to do when a college dorm room doesn't really allow for a lot of stuff in the first place. Though she did have Tucker bring up Huntress stuff, as well as some of the packed up clothes she didn't get to bring up the first time she moved now that's she's got the room.
Danny doesn't have that many belongings, per say, He's minimalist, in that way.
But he has a lot of stuff for his workshop. Since they don't' have a third bedroom, most the living room's going to be dedicated to it. There's a big rolling table with drawers under it for storage that can be pushed to the side so Val can practice her katas, and an industrial tarp they can throw over it to use it as a dinner table if need be.
Danny, like his parents, likes to spread out whenever he's working on something.
Unlike his parents, however, he's paranoid about contamination, and always puts everything back in its place when he's done.
He's been burned too many times to not be.
Plus, Val can use his stuff to do maintenance on her hoverboard.
They like to be efficient and practical about things.
The point is, she, Danny, Tucker and Sam have spent most of the day lugging up heavy cardboard boxes and furniture that is heavy and sometimes metal.
"I said I might be dying!" Val reiterates into the silence of the now cardboard filled room.
"We heard you to the first time." Sam drawls as she walks into the living room with a cup of water from the kitchen. "I don't even know why you're whining."
"Yeah, Danny did most of the heavy lifting," Tucker chimes in as he trails in behind Sam with a box of pizza. She hands it over to Val as she sits up from her sweaty sprawl.
Val rolls her eyes, because that is inherently untrue. "It's June, it's hot, and most of us did heavy labor."
"No, no. Tucker's got a point," Danny cuts in, lugging the last box of what looks like a bunch of a tools. "I did, in fact, bring up all the furniture, and the bulk of the community stuff."
He sets it down with the rest of his workshop stuff, dusting his hands and adopting a stupid pose where he flexes his arm muscles. Val gulps down her water in disgust.
"And Val and I brought up all the clothes and bedroom stuff," Sam scoffs, "Tuck got a couple boxes of all that electronic crap."
"And none of us have halfa strength to make it easy." Val points a finger threateningly at Danny, who puts his hands up in surrender. "Hard. Labor."
They sit in a circle around the pizza and shoot the shit—making the same old banter that never gets old, making grandiose travel plans that may or may not ever leave the group chat.
About how Sam's set to intern at the Daily Planet, finally about to work with her hero Lois Lane. How she hates how shiny and modern Metropolis is. How Wes has this crazy theory that dorky, clumsy, always going to the bathroom Clark Kent is Superman. How Sam believes him 100%, but won't ever tell him because she thinks it's funny.
How Tuck has this suspicion that the Flash is affiliated with Star Labs, somehow. That the tech in there seems out of this world almost, inter-dimensional in the way ecto-tech can be, but on a different frequency. How his dorm-mate is definitely some kind of meta, maybe even a time traveler, with the way he keeps using words like crash and mode in weird ways. But he's a great roommate, so Tuck minds his business.
And then, of course, the conversation ends up to their love lives.
Sam's got this enby in one of her journalism classes that keeps talking circles around her and Sam's this close to hate fucking them about it.
Tuck's been flirting it up with the girls, per usual, but there's a girl whose been trying real hard to pick up what he's putting down, and he's not actually sure if he wants that.
That conversation goes on a tangent about asexuality and aromanticism, but it'll have to be tabled until after Tucker has time to really…research the idea.
"I'm telling you, Val," Tuck changes the subject, "Steph is definitely into you."
"All the spars? Study dates?" Danny adds in, "Hasn't she been taking you on those ice cream dates too?"
"First of all, it's froyo," Val corrects haughtily, "Second of all that's all friend stuff. I did all that stuff with you guys, and I'll be doing them with you once the new semester starts."
"Third of all," Sam continues, "You have no leg to stand on, Mr. can't play doomed tonight guys," Her impression of Danny is nasally, and horribly wrong, but it's too funny to not laugh at, "I'm gonna watch a movie with Jason on discord!"
"That's—that's different." Danny sputters.
"Dude sends you food on a weekly basis because you said you forget to eat sometimes," Tucker says reluctantly, "And sends you letters."
"Letters???" Sam says indignantly, "You didn't tell me about any letters!"
"Since when has he been sending you letters??" Val asks, grabbing Danny's collar and shaking him when he mumbles and doesn't answer them clearly.
"Since January!" Danny finally yells, grabbing her hands and pulling them off, "They're just, they're not—they're nice! He's being nice. I told him I missed getting letters, and…"
Tucker, Sam and Val all groan in unison.
"He's been wooing you for half a year and you didn't even notice??" Val shrieks, into the ceiling. The ceiling is unsympathetic, but Sam and Tucker are.
"You've basically been dating Steph for half a year and you didn't notice!" Danny's voice is high pitched, his ears are red, and he's screeching with his hands on his face as he falls back and rolls all over the ground.
"You're both useless." Sam intones, "This could be solved by texting them."
"I can't just text her." Val says hotly, at the same time Danny says "Important conversations are not for texts!"
"Gods, you're perfect for him," Val mumbles under her breath, remembering Jay's very same fucking words all those months ago.
"Relationships are all about open communication, y'all." Tucker says in a wise tone.
They all stare at him. He makes a face, shrugging. "Fair enough. Carry on being useless."
"You really think he likes me?" Danny says, in a small voice through his fingers. He's not looking at any of them, and is curled up on the floor. "You think he's been…wooing me?"
"Danny…." Sam shakes her head, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "The man has been trying his damnedest to make this whole thing romantic for you, hasn't he?"
"You've been having virtual breakfasts together, haven't you?" Tucker softly adds in, scooching over to pat Danny on the head.
Val rolls herself over to Danny's other side, the three of them surrounding him and patting him in some way. He reaches over, snags on Val's shirt sleeve.
"I'll text him," Danny's voice trembles, "But only if you text Steph."
Val opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it at Danny's pleading eyes. She sighs.
Tucker hands Danny his phone, and they draft about a million texts before they collectively settle. Movie and a dinner, just the two of them. Easy.
"Here goes nothing…" Danny takes a deep breath, before pressing send. He laughs nervously, before straight up chucking his phone at Sam, who catches it.
"I'm going to obsessively check my phone until he answers so let's work on your text instea—" A buzz interrupts him, all four heads swinging towards the phone in Sam's hand.
Her eyes widen, mouth gaping. Danny rolls over, leans to see—
"…Oh." Danny's face crumples. "I guess…I guess that's a no, then."
"Danny…" Tucker reaches for him, but Danny shakes his head and stands up.
"I gotta…I gotta get my room set up. Thanks for all the help guys, I—" He cuts himself off, voice going small and hurt, "I guess he got tired of waiting?"
He bites his lip. Val doesn't know what to say. None of them do.
He goes to his room, and Val never sends that text to Steph.
(Red Hood gets a text message from Danny asking Jason if he'd like to catch a movie together.
There's a follow up text where Danny asks if maybe Jason would like to get dinner afterward too, just the two of them.
Red Hood is in the middle of Nanda Parbat, stealing his stupid brother's no longer missing spleen back from the creep who tried to clone him.
Red Hood has bloody gloves, and has three ninja assassins stalking him.
Red Hood texts back a "can't." but nothing to follow up, not without getting a knife to the neck.
He manages to get back home, toss the spleen back at his brother, and fall into a dead sleep 18 hours later.
When Jason wakes up another 10 hours after that, it's to an abundance of messages from his friends and family. Only one is important.
dannywithawhy: ok.
Jason falls out of bed.)
Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.
ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)
Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)
also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.
===
Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.
She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 
The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.
To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 
She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.
She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 
Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 
Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 
So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 
Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 
All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 
It's the little things.
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puckinghischier · 4 hours ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/puckinghischier/766626512832266240/hiiiiii-ive-come-to-beg-for-crumbs-lol-seeing
thinking about this for no reason tonight…quinn getting home extra pissed bc he got ejected and you aren’t helping, prancing around in only his jersey doing everything you can to get him to take his anger out on you again
you watched the whole thing happen from the tv in the hotel room, choosing to stay in tonight because it was so cold out. you hate to say it, but you were turned on the second you saw him looking down at the player on the ice, jabbing his stick around after the play had already stopped.
you knew he’d be back early, having already texted you that he’s forgoing any media because he just wants a hot shower and some greasy take out. you had other plans, however. you knew he’d have some pent up feelings. he always tries to hide how frustrated he really is, not wanting to set a bad example for any young captains or players watching. so, you decide to use it to your advantage.
you strip yourself from your clothes, walking over and rummaging through quinn’s game bag. you find the clean, black, skate jersey tucked away inside, and slip it over your bare body. you sprawl yourself out across the large bed, jersey ridden up just enough so your ass peeks out. you lay there in wait, wanting to be nothing more than his stress reliever tonight.
when he finally makes his way into the room, he tosses his bag down at the door and stalks towards the bathroom. he doesn’t even look your way, shutting the door and turning the shower on. shock and disappointment clouds your features, a small bit of embarrassment settling in your stomach. you stay put, though. waiting. surely when he sees you, he’ll pounce.
he emerges from the small bathroom twenty minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. he looks at you on the bed, noticing your state.
“why are you wearing my skate jersey?” he asks, not hinting at whether he’s pleased or not.
you shrug. “just…felt like it,” you try to sound sultry and seductive, letting him know what you want.
he stands and stares for a moment before shaking himself out of the trance, walking over to grab a pair of black boxer briefs from his suitcase, dropping the towel and sliding them up his legs before you can even appreciate his bare ass on display.
“did you find anywhere that’s still open and sounds good? m’starving,” he asks you, not bothering to put sweats or a shirt on.
“not yet…didn’t know if maybe you wanted something…sweeter to eat,” you roll over, spreading your legs slightly, giving him a glimpse of your damp pussy.
he sighs out, closing his eyes and pinching his nose while tilting his head up. your embarrassment creeps back in, picking up that he clearly doesn’t want to do this tonight.
you sit up, tugging his jersey down to cover yourself, cheeks flushed and eyes stinging with oncoming tears you will yourself not to drop.
“s-sorry. i’ll…uh…go look up some menus on my phone,” you whisper out, not meeting his eyes as you stand.
you don’t see the way his eyes snap open to look at you, the embarrassed and dejected tone causing alarms to go off in his head.
he reaches out and grabs your arm as you try to walk past him, stopping you in your tracks. placing both hands on your biceps under his jersey, he turns your body to face his, a soft “look at me,” forcing your attention to his face.
he brings a hand up to push a strand of hair out of your face, letting his hand trail down your face before finding its previous spot on your arm.
“m’sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you. s’just…not this time,” he tells you, squeezing the soft flesh of your arms.
you nod, but you need to know if it’s you, or if he’s just really not in the mood. “was…,” you trail off, not knowing if you can handle the answer if it’s not in your favor. “was the jersey too much? just thought, i don’t know…you always say how much you like seeing me in them, and figured you’d need some…stress relief after tonight, so…” you leave the sentence open ended, assuming he understands what you’re not saying.
he chuckles out a dry laugh. “baby, i love seeing you in my jerseys so much, you have no idea,” he lets his gaze travel down to the way your body is swallowed by the black fabric. “but, i don’t trust myself with you tonight,” he confesses, looking back up at your surprised face.
“quinn, i trust you. i do. i know you’d never go too far, or do anything i wasn’t comfortable with,” you rush out, your hands flying up to grip both of his forearms.
he shakes his head, letting it drop. “sweetheart, you have no idea how much i’d love to have my way with you tonight, but i’m so pissed off. so mad at how tonight went. and the fact the team acted like they didn’t even need me?” you can see his eyes darkening the longer he talks, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. “can’t promise what would happen. how rough i’d be. don’t want to hurt you, or worse, scare you off,” he snaps out of his little trance, his grip loosening, but not before you whimpered at the burning squeeze.
it’s your turn to shake your head at him, hands leaning his arms to touch his face.
“q, please, i promise you won’t scare me off, or hurt me. i know my limits, and so do you. i trust you. trust yourself,” you plead with him.
you can tell he’s thinking it over, watching the conversation he’s having with himself in his head.
“i-are you sure?” he asks, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.
“use me,” is all you say in response, leaning up on the tips of your toes to whisper the words in his ear seductively. for good measure, you lick a stripe from his ear down his jaw and to the base of his throat.
the growl that erupts from where your tongue was just exploring is carnal, shoving you back from his body towards the bed. the force catches you off guard, falling onto your back on the plush surface.
he walks the short steps towards you, hovering over you. “tell me to stop at any time, okay?” he speaks softly, but with meaning, wanting you to know you’re still the one who’s really in control here.
you nod, sighing out a “okay,” as he rests a large hand on your thigh, sliding it all the way up to your chest, bringing the jersey with it.
he teasingly pinches a nipple, earning a moan from you as you arch your back into the sensation. he looks down at your face, loving how desperate you already are for him.
“remember, you asked for this,” he reminds you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the hungry, dark look on his face.
‘sure did,’ you think to yourself, knowing if last time was anything to go off of, tonight, coming off of an ejection rather than a simple minor penalty, you were in for a treat.
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perfectlyvalid49 · 3 days ago
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Sorry for grossing you out but uh, I have a complex claim to a lot of religions and cultures because of how colonialism (arguably Israel is a settler colony state so uh… hmmm) has impacted me.
As you’ve ascertained (correctly) I’m a non-Jewish American, only by technicality, because I haven’t found a rabbi that will even support the fact that I’m gay and the “three asks” thing feels like a troll move which feels… homophobic???
I need you to seriously consider how my life has been negatively influenced (hence the circumcision poll) by a bastardized JEWISH practice, and what the fuck that means for my identity as it feels like fate to some degree and a bit offensive that you would yuck my ability to find yum in Yhwh or w/e because I’m… too much of a faggoy? Idk man… just asking questions. I’d love to clarify your response in a dm since its… a lot. Not meaning to offend just sick of being put in a box because my circumcision and mother aren’t “right” enough to be in the in club because Hekate or Satan or whatever swooped in and said “NOPE” 🙃
Cheers
Trying to understand Israel through the lens of settler colonialism is a failing proposition. Consider the following:
Jews are indigenous to Israel. We have a historical record that says they’re from there in both the Greek and Roman written record. Like there is as much if not more evidence of Jews in Israel in Roman writing as there is of Julius Caesar being a real person. We also have archaeological evidence. Israel is covered with digs that find evidence of Jewish life dating back 2,000-3,000 years. We also have genetic evidence. DNA studies have shown that even super white looking Ashkenazi Jews have significant portions of DNA that are most closely related to other groups from the southern Levant.
So to call Jews settlers either denies all that evidence, insists that indigenous people can be settlers on their own land, or posits that indigenous people can somehow lose their status as indigenous if you wait long enough. The first is anti-intellectual and antisemitic, the second is ridiculous and the third is a dangerous line of thinking for all indigenous people. How long before Native Americans no longer have a claim to their land? How long before Maori no longer have a claim? It’s not really a place we want to go.
As for colonial, the definition of a colony is “a country or area under the full or partial political control of another country, typically a distant one, and occupied by settlers from that country.” So which country controls Israel? I think we’ve seen over the last year that it’s not the US given the way Bibi has repeatedly blown off Biden, so who is it? Which country is sending settlers to control the area? Again, it’s not the US. While some American Jews make Aliyah every year, the vast majority of Jews in Israel are either from Europe or the Middle East. To be a colony, you have to be a colony of some other power. What is the other power here?
So we can see that Jews are neither settlers nor colonizers. But you know who did colonize the area? Arabs. Arabs are indigenous to the Arabian peninsula, not Israel. And in the 7th century, Arabs came from the Arabian peninsula into Israel (and other places), conquered the locals and did their best to eradicate their cultures, forced conversions to the conquering religion, and settled in the new lands while being under the political control of the far away Caliphate. Sounds like settler colonialism to me. So if we must understand someone in the area as colonial (and I still don’t think it’s the best way to look at things, but if you do) then it’s the people that Palestinians are descended from.
Having said all that, just because colonialism has impacted you, it doesn’t mean you have a complex claim to Judaism. Here are ways you can have a complex claim to Judaism: 1) your father is Jewish and your mother is not, 2) you have Jewish ancestors who were forced to convert and you are now trying to reconnect with the religion that was taken from them. I don’t know your history, so it’s possible that one of those is true. But if you have no Jewish ancestry, then your claim is not complex, it’s non-existent, and if you do have Jewish ancestry but your ancestors willingly left the tribe, then you don’t really have much of a claim either. That doesn’t mean you can’t convert, but given that you seem to think you have claims on other aspects of Judaism as a non-Jew, my gut reaction is to be very doubtful toward your claim on Judaism in general.
If you can’t find a rabbi to support your conversion because you’re gay, you’re looking in the wrong places. The senior rabbi at my synagogue is gay, and we have several queer families as part of the congregation. There are literal signs on the door to the main office that say Trans and Queer Jews welcome here. This doesn’t mean that all congregations are welcoming, but lots are.
The three asks thing is a metaphor that some rabbis take literally. Converting to Judaism is a big decision. The three asks are to make sure that you’ve really thought about it and are really sure – that you’re taking it seriously and thought through all the consequences. If that feels like trolling to you, then maybe Judaism isn’t a good fit. Honestly, from my interactions with you this week, I would bet that the rabbis you’ve met with haven’t said no because you’re gay, they’ve said no because you don’t seem super interested in taking on Jewishness, you just want to take from it instead.
I don’t know what happened with your circumcision. If it went wrong and it was done by a mohel then you can feel angry toward the Jewish people I guess, but I would want to know why your parents had a bris for you if they weren’t planning on raising you Jewish. If you were just circumcised as a medical procedure, as many American babies are, then you may have trauma related to it, but you don’t need to be taking it out on the Jewish people, which is exactly what that poll was doing.
Don’t write down those four letters. Don’t try to pronounce them either. We have asked, repeatedly that people not do that, and once again, the fact that you are is super disrespectful to Jewish people. Write G-d, or God if you must, or even Hashem (I don't think goyim should, but it's better than what you did), but not those four letters. It’s not yucking your yum. You are allowed to enjoy what you want. But what you are doing here is the equivalent of coming into my house and saying that because my dinner looks delicious you can just reach onto my plate with your bare hand, scoop up some of what I’m eating, take a bite and throw the rest back. It’s disrespectful and offensive. I am not objecting to your joy, I’m objecting to your lack of respect to my culture.
Being Jewish is about more than just being circumcised and having the “right” mother. There is a culture here that you need to understand. If you are raised in it, then you get to join the club that way. If you’re not, then you can put in the work to learn it and learn to be respectful of it and join the club that way. So far, you haven’t been able to find a rabbi that thinks you’re willing to do that work, and from what I’ve seen, I’m willing to agree.
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whatdoeseverybodywant · 2 days ago
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Sorry - Chapter 8
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
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Jon barely shifted the Mustang into park before jumping out and sprinting toward the house's front door. “Dom!” he called, frowning as the house was deathly quiet. Glancing back, he noticed her car was not parked out front, and his heart sank further. He then walked over to the garage door, his frown deepening as he noticed it empty too. 
Sighing. Jon pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Dom’s number, cursing as it went straight to voicemail “Fuck” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. “So fucking stupid.” 
He tried calling Dom two more times before calling her sister. 
“Hello?” 
“Muf–” 
“You fucked up.” 
“Yeah, I know,” Jon replied, trying to keep his temper in check. “I need to talk to her, she with you?” 
“Mmhm,” Desiree, replied as she looked over at her sister who was sitting on the couch, staring off into space. “I don’t think she wants to talk to you, Jon.” 
“Look, just put her on the pho–” 
“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.” Desiree stood from her seat on the couch and went into the kitchen. “Going back to your ex is crazy Jon! What were you thinking?!” 
“I didn’t go back to my damn ex! I just–” 
“You just what? Went over there to chill?” She scoffed  “Just give her time. She’ll come  to you when she’s ready.” Desiree didn’t give him a chance to respond before she hung up the phone. 
“FUCK!” Jon yelled out and threw his phone down on the table. 
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DominiqueWalkerr_
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liked by jonathanfatu, uceyjucey and 800,000 others
DominiqueWalkerr_: felt cute, definitely gonna delete later 💋
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jonathanfatu: 😘 😮‍💨❤️
user: i miss jimmy with naomi!
↪user: YESS! was just talking about that on twitter! THEY complemented each other!
↪ jonathanfatu: don't do that! Take this shit outta my fiance's comments.
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Friday Afternoon
Dominique stayed with her sister for the rest of the week. In her mind, she and Jon were over. There was nothing he could do to fix this. He ran back to his ex again ain't no way she was just going back to him. While she was in the wrong for not being honest about her stance on marriage he was even more wrong. 
Dominque let out an audible groan as she made her way into the arena that was hosting Friday Night Smackdown. She had tried every excuse in the book to get the day off, but it was short notice and they would have nobody to fill in for her. 
“Now whose ass do I have to beat for putting a frown on that pretty face.” Dominque stopped walking at the sound of a very familiar voice. She had a wide smile on her face as she made eye contact with Dave and walked closer to him. 
“Dave?! What are you doing here?” She said, giggling as he pulled her into a hug and lifted her off her feet.”
Dave Bautista looked like he hadn’t aged a day. Before Jon, Dave was the one Dominique thought she was going to marry. But after he left the WWE in 2014, their relationship couldn’t handle the distance. Their split was amicable,  with both of them being extremely civil with each other.  But as Dominique stood there in front of the first man she ever loved, she couldn’t help but think this was a sign. Maybe Dave was the one she was supposed to be with. 
“Y’all in my neck of the woods. Of course, I had to come by and see Hunter.” He said answering her question. “And you.” He muttered the last part, as his eyes did a sweep over her, she didn’t miss the way his stare locked on her bare ring ringer before meeting her eyes again. They stood there staring at each other before they both burst into laughter. 
“Whatever Dave.” She said as she rolled her eyes. 
“I had to try, I mean imagine my surprise when I found out you were engaged to little Jonathan Fatu. You know I used to hang out with his pops and uncles back in the day.” 
“You make it seem like you’re so old Dave,” Dominique said, rolling her eyes with a chuckle.
“I'm 53 years old Dee. I think that's pretty old.” They both laughed. 
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“Oh fuck” Josh whispered, his eyes bugging out his head and she saw Dominique and Dave fucking Bautista talking. “Oh shit Uce… this ain’t good.” He said looking over to Joe who seemed very disinterested.  “Go interrupt them” 
“What?” Joe snorted, raising an eyebrow at Josh  Why me?” 
Josh sucked his teeth. “Cause ain’t you like friends with him or something.”  Joe let out a huff and began to walk towards Dave and Dominique but Jon stepped in front of him. 
“Um hello, you two don’t know how to answer a phone?” 
“Oh, uh..” Josh trailed off as his eyes flickered behind Jon. Jon frowned and turned around to see what Josh was looking at and his heart dropped into his stomach. 
“What the fuck?” He whispered as he watched Dave lean down and hug Dominique. his voice thick with disbelief as he watched Dominique respond to Dave's hug. Jon couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dominique’s face. The way she looked at Dave—it wasn’t just a friendly exchange. It was something else, something that made Jon’s chest tighten in ways he hadn’t expected. He could feel his pulse quickening, the jealousy crawling up his throat, even as his mind tried to catch up with what was happening.
“Jon…” Josh said hesitantly, but Jon wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. His eyes were locked on Dominique and Dave, his body tense with a mix of frustration, helplessness, and raw jealousy. “Aye man, relax.. They could just be catching up.” 
Josh and Joe shared a look before returning their attention to Jon who was glaring at Dave and Dominique. “Uce, do not go over there and start shit… Be level-headed. That’s Hunter’s boy… we don’t need no shit coming our way.” Joe warned. Jon sucked in a deep breath and gave Joe a curt nod before walking over to Dominique and Dave. 
Jon clenched his jaw tight as he made his way over to the pair. He cleared his throat as he got closer, causing Dom and Dave to look over in his direction. Dave looked between the of them before excusing himself. “Can I talk to you?” Jon asked her, his voice coming off more hostile and rough than he intended. 
“Jon..” Dominique trailed off with a sigh, her shoulder sagging as she turned her attention to him. “I don’t wanna fight with you.” 
"I don't want to fight either," Jon said, his tone softening slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry. I just - You gotta know I wasn’t on no disrespectful shit Dom. I wasn’t even thinking... I was going to my mom’s and I just…” He trailed off with a shrug. “I shouldn’t have went in. I should have come back home to you.” 
“But you didn’t. Like honestly I’m at fault here too right? I mean I wasn’t honest about my stance on marriage but I have and would never do the shit that you did. Give that girl your number. Foul as fuck. And I forgave you for the whole Trinity situation the first time but now… I can’t” 
“I know I messed up,” Jon repeated, trying to keep his voice steady, but now refusing to make eye contact with her. “But, Dom, I didn’t go to Trinity for some… rebound or whatever you’re thinking. I just needed to clear my head. But that kiss.” He stopped himself, his eyes going wide as he looked over at her. He watched as Dominque inhaled a sharp breath and narrowed her eyes at him. 
“What kiss?” Dominique asked, he heart now pounding in her chest. 
“Dominique, please. I– she kissed me but I pushed her away immediately.” He tried to reach out and grab her hand but she shook her head and backed away from him. 
“Sure, okay,” She said as she rolled her eyes, not believing a word he said... “Here I was, just telling Dave that I was gonna swallow my pride and apologize to you and you out here running back to your ex?!” 
“I wish you stop saying that shit.” he hissed. “Ain’t nobody running back to Trin.” By now. Josh and Joe had walked closer to them ready to separate the couple.  Dominique snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. 
“So if you’re not running back to her what are you doing then?! You got drunk and went to her. You left our home and went to her and then your standing here telling me you kissed her?!” Dominique scoffed as she started backing away from Jon. “Nah, you got it. It’s obvious that you wanna still be with Trinity so i’m not gonna stop you. Go feel the glow or whatever.” 
Josh coughed out a laugh whiched cause Jon and Joe to glare over at him. 
“Dominique wait! Just listent to me.” Jon called out as he started following her down the hall. “I want you. I want to be with you! I wanna work this out.” 
Dominique suddenly stopped, causing him to almost bump into to her. She turend on her heels and glared at him. “I wanted to work this out too. But.. I can’t.. Not after you just told me you kissed her.”  Dominique shook her head and turned around again to walk away from Jon only to bump into someone. Once she seen who it was, she wasn’t able to hold back her emotions anymore. 
Dominique watched as Trinity gasped and looked past her to look at Jon, and that’s when Dominique lost it. Dominique's fist connected with Trinity's jaw before anyone could react. The sound of the impact echoed through the hallway, followed by a collective gasp from the onlookers. Trinity stumbled backward, her hand flying to her face in shock.
“Oh shit!” Josh called out, him and Joe rushing foward to try to stop the fight along with Jon. 
“Dominique!” Jon called out, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her away from Trinity before she could land another hit. “Stop.. Chill baby.” 
Dominique wrangled her way out of Jon’s grasp and before she could stop herself, she slapped him in his face. “I swear to god... I’m done. Stay the hell away from me!” She hastily wiped away the tears that were now coming down her eyes, she gave him one more heartbroken glance before walking away. 
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Authors Note: huh... i mean y'all did say Dom was gonna drive Jon into the arms of another woman 😬
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seitmai · 2 days ago
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As always many thoughts...
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters." "Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch.
Of course he wouldn't 😅
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something." "Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her. "They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
Hahah this whole conversation cracked me up 😂
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
Ok rude of Bradley, it was just a nice thought 🙄😒
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered." "Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
🥰🥰🥰
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner. "You're never fast! You like to linger!" "It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
Haha I can't with him
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
Of course he does 🤭
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. "I could always nurse you later if you want." "I take it you're interested in my offer." "Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off."
🤭🤭🤭
"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
Oh no, she is too hard on herself 🥺
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel."
Oh don't act like a saint Jake, we all know you wanna marry her sooner rather than later an if Cat had a buch of trauma and needs time because of that, they would have been married already 😅
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Dad Jake 🥹🥰
Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Maybe maybe there is something else going on, hmm 🤭
"You look like a DILF."
He sure does 😌
"Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?" You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
Hahaha this is so Bradley 😅
"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight. "You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
He just loves to be with his girls 🥰
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag.
🥰🥰🥰 
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
He is living his best life 😅
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away?
Yes, he absolutely 100% is
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
Oh oh this feels like trouble 😬🫣
Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo
Length: 3900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.
"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.
"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.
"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."
You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."
"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."
Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."
"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."
"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.
"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."
You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."
He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."
"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."
"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."
"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"
"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."
"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."
Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."
You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."
His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."
You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"
When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"
Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."
-------------------------------
You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.
"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.
"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.
"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"
"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.
He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.
Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 
You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.
"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"
You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."
"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."
Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."
"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"
He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"
"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.
"You're never fast! You like to linger!"
"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."
This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 
"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."
He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 
"I could always nurse you later if you want."
When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.
"I take it you're interested in my offer."
"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."
-----------------------------
"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.
"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."
"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.
Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."
Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."
"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.
"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."
Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."
Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.
Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.
"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."
"Why?"
Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."
"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 
"I mean..."
"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."
"I'll be forty soon."
"You're thirty-eight."
"That's almost forty."
"You look like a DILF."
He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.
"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"
"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."
Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.
"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.
"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."
"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"
You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."
"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.
"We're going to miss you." 
He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."
You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.
----------------------------------
"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.
"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.
"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."
"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."
"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.
"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."
Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 
He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.
"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.
Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."
She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.
To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.
"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 
Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.
When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.
"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.
He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 
Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.
"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."
------------------------------
Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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vanillamatt · 2 days ago
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vanillamatt.. ..bf!chris & reader
chris can’t sleep on an argument
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you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, staring blankly at the floor. the quiet is suffocating, the only sound in the room being the soft hum of the ceiling fan. chris' words still echo in your head, sharp and heavy. you don’t even remember exactly how the argument started—everything’s just a blur of frustration and hurt now.
the door creaks open, and you hear his voice before you see chris. it’s quieter than usual, tentative.
“doll?” chris says, and there’s an odd softness to the way he says it. it makes something twist in your chest. you don’t look up, just rub your eyes, feeling the hot sting of tears threatening to spill again.
he steps closer, hesitant, as if unsure how to approach you. “i’m… shit. i’m sorry.” his voice is low, almost shaky. “i hate when we fight. i didn’t mean to make you cry. i was just—
“stop,” you murmur, your voice small and weak. “you said what you said. it’s fine. i’m fine.”
chris sighs, coming to sit next to you on the bed. he doesn’t touch you right away, but you feel the warmth of his body beside yours. his fingers brush against your hand.
“you’re not fine,” he says softly, his voice thick with regret. “i shouldn’t have raised my voice like that. you’re everything to me. i hate seeing you upset, doll.”
his thumb starts to gently rub circles on the back of your hand, and it feels like a small comfort, even though your chest still aches. you finally look up at him, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, not sure if you want to keep them in or let them fall.
“i swear. i just get frustrated sometimes and… i take it out on you. and i hate myself for it. i’m so sorry.”
you nod, even though the ache in your chest hasn’t gone away yet.
you sniff, wiping your eyes, and finally, chris reaches out, gently cupping your face. his touch is tender, careful, like you’re fragile, and it makes your heart ache even more.
“please don’t cry,” he whispers, his voice a little hoarse now.
“i love you,” he says, pressing his lips softly against yours. “i didn’t ever want to make you feel this way.”
“i love you, too,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you let yourself lean into him. and for the first time in hours, it feels like things will be okay.
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ghostgirl-22 · 3 days ago
Note
artrick phone sex
I gotchu, my love <3
CW: 18+ !NSFW! First time dynamics, angst, Art has avoidance issues like me.
Apologies this may be too long and full of my own personal angst I fear.
—-
“Art?” It’s Patrick.
Art feels his stomach sinking and now he wishes he’d avoided his call, again. He rolls over on his bed and looks at the sparsely decorated wall of his dorm room. It’s his first time talking to Patrick since… since…
He shivers and tries to put it out of his mind.
“Hey,” Art says and clears his throat. “What’s up?”
Patrick chuckles.
Art shivers again. Did his voice always sound that way? Or is Art just crazy still? He’s been really crazy lately. It’s been two weeks and he’s still…
“Really? What’s up?” Patrick mimics. “That’s all you have to say?”
Art shrugs for the benefit of no one but himself. “What—um— what’s wrong with that?”
“Oh I don’t know…” Patrick hums and then he sighs. “Okay fuck it. I’ll go with it. Are you okay?”
Art is still anxious, his stomach still uneasy. It’s just Patrick. His oldest and closest and best friend and yet he can’t relax. He can’t settle down and they're just talking on the phone. He can’t imagine seeing him in person when he inevitably shows up to Stanford again to watch Tashi play. Everything is different now.
“I’m fine, Patrick.” He lies.
“But you don’t want to talk to me?” Patrick sounds weird. Worried? A little. Disappointed? Probably. Sad? Definitely.
Art sighs, he doesn’t want Patrick to be sad. “No I— I’ve just been busy. We had finals last week. And um…. practice has been crazy. I’m um… I started seeing this girl and—” he hears Patrick huff a laugh but barrels through, ignoring it. “Sorry I missed your calls.”
“And texts,” Patrick adds.
“I’m sorry,” Art says again.
They’re quiet for a while. Art turns back to look at the tv. He was watching Sports Center, they were talking about gymnastics. Apparently there had just been some kind of qualifier competition.
“Who’s this new girl your seeing?” Patrick asks. This time Art can’t tell what his tone is.
“Uh well she’s nice, pretty. She’s actually not on the team. She’s an English major.”
“Sounds hot,” Patrick says, flatly.
“Yeah, she’s um— she’s nice,” Art says. “Are you—are you high?”
“A little. I won’t lie. Me and the buddy I was telling you about we smoked a couple and then went and got tacos and Margaritas. So fucking good. Who knew Dallas was a food town?”
Art laughs. He begins to relax, this feels more like best friend stuff. Maybe he was overreacting. Avoiding him for two weeks. But of course that wasn’t the only reason Art was avoiding him. “What happened to your match?”
“Uh well— I lost again. This shit is so fucking rigged.” Patrick complains.
“Dude that fucking sucks,” Art says. He sits up on his bed and looks around for his own weed stash.
“Yeah, it’s fine though. I’m going against this guy tomorrow, stats are all over the place but I think I can take him.”
“Whats his name?”
“Moussa or Mousso… I can’t remember but he’s French. Kinda hot, actually.”
Art feels his stomach flip flop again. “Uh… so what about Tashi?”
“She’s good, she actually answers my calls. I mean not tonight but she told me her cousin would be in town so…”
”Do you want me to beg for forgiveness or something?” Art says, smirking.
Patrick takes a breath and doesn’t say anything while Art is rummaging through the bottom drawer of his night stand. He finds the baggy he was looking for and sits up on the bed, legs crossed as he opens it.
“I’m sorry but I was honestly busy.” Art adds when Patrick still hasn’t said anything.
“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Patrick asks.
Art stops moving. His stomach begins doing all kinds of things again.
“Look I don’t want to… I don’t want it to be weird,” Patrick continues. “I can do whatever you need. If you want me to pretend I didn’t fuck you… okay fine. But you have to talk to me because I’m going fucking crazy.”
Art stares at the television but he’s not seeing anything. He gives up on the weed and tosses it on the nightstand. “Yeah um… okay.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Art mutters. “I’m— we can talk.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No,” Art says. “I—“ he lays back down on his side and looks at the wall, pulling his knees up. He wishes with everything in him that they hadn’t done it in here. In his fucking bed.
He’s got it on a loop playing in his head all the time. Patrick crawling between his legs. The way he looked, hair still damp from the shower, freckles all over, pupils too big, blue eyes all sparkly. How he smelled, like vanilla soap and cigarettes. What he sounded like, voice so much deeper and softer than normal, saying stupid things like “You’re so fucking pretty”, “Gonna make you scream my name,” and then moaning when he got it in.
And how it felt.
God.
How it felt.
That’s the part that stays with him. How much it hurt. And then how much it didn’t hurt at all. By the end Patrick was touching something inside him and he was seeing stars. In between consciousness and some other plane of existence is how good it felt. That was the silly part. Feeling like he wanted it again and again and again.
He let Patrick do it again in the morning. Patrick’s arms wrapped around his waist fucking him on his side while he stared at this wall his whole body blooming with pleasure. And then just sitting with it for the rest of the day. The ache. The stretch. The feeling like everyone could tell. Patrick left that afternoon for the airport, sent Art a text. Well that was fun. Which he ignored. Called him that evening. Also ignored.
Art had been trying to avoid thinking about it ever since (it was impossible). He’s thrown himself into school, tennis, he’s even tried to talk to a new girl. It didn’t go anywhere. In his worst moments he’s even tried to flirt with Tashi. But then he remembers she’s fucking Patrick and his mind swings right back around to the way Patrick fucked him. And that makes him more crazy because now he doesn’t know what the fuck he actually wants.
And every fucking night, late at night he’s lying in bed staring at the wall touching himself over and over… thinking about it.
He doesn’t know how to say any of this to Patrick.
“Did you die?” Patrick asks, dryly. Even now since they’ve been on the phone, just hearing Patricks stupid voice is making Art’s stomach hurt, and his cock fill up.
“No… I’m just confused okay,” Art says.
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
”Did you hate it?” Patrick asks.
“Not really,” Art murmurs.
“You’re so fucking full of shit,” Patrick groans.
Art sighs and realizes he just mindlessly put his palm on his cock because of how gravelly Patrick’s voice sounds. And fine. Patrick can make him crazy all the way in whatever fucking city hes in however many fucking miles he is away from Palo Alto.
“I’m sorry if I don’t know how to feel. I’ve never… I’d never done any of that before.” Art says quietly.
“And yet you practically begged for it in the morning.” Patrick says softly.
Art swallows thickly.
“I can’t get it out of my head.” Patrick continues. “The way you were rubbing against my dick before you even woke up properly. Fuck. I can’t get you out of my head.”
Art’s rubbing himself now. “I can’t either,” he sighs, he’s starting to lose it again. He feels silly. Too silly to care if Patrick can tell.
“Yeah?” Patrick sounds eager, breathy.
“It was… I still… I still feel it. Is that crazy?” Art says quietly.
Patrick takes a deep breath. “Fuck. You drive me so fucking insane. Are you fucking touching yourself?”
“’m sorry. I just…” Art says, closing his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Art knows he’s never gonna recover from this but right now it doesn’t matter. He would stop if he could but he can’t.
”You still feel me?”
“Mmhm.”
“Feel me stretching you? you’re so fucking tight I don’t even know if it’s all gonna fit,” Patrick says, his voice sounds like it did. When Arts eyes are closed it’s almost like he can feel Patrick’s breath on his skin.
“Ah—“ Art gasps, grabbing himself properly. “I like the stretch.”
“You love it.” Patrick says. “You don’t even want to wait. Don’t want me to take my time, you’re just so eager you’re pushing that pretty ass back on me.”
“Yeah,” Art gasps, he rolls onto his back and puts the phone on speaker, letting one leg fall open as he jerks himself. “It feels so good—when you fuck me. Its too much. Im too full please… please I don’t think I can take anymore.”
“Oh you fucking liar,” Patrick moans. “You can take it baby. I know you can. You’re a little cock slut already and its only your first time. Fuck. You’re so tight.”
”So tight,” Art says mindlessly as he tries to ease two fingers along his ass, the way Patrick had done before he entered. “I wanna… I want you to… I—I miss you.”
”I miss you too,” Patrick says. “If I was there I’d have you on all fours taking my dick all night.”
“Ah—mmh— Patrick I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ Art cries. The fingers are enough… even dry.
“Come on, yeah… fucking come on my big fat dick sweetheart… come on.. nngh…” Patrick moans.
It’s enough. Hot strings of pearly white are suddenly spurting out of him and spilling everywhere, on his fingers and clothes. On the bedspread. He’s breathless, as his whole body goes lax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I need to be in you again, gahhh..” Art can hear Patrick’s bed squeaking wherever he is and then he’s groaning loudly, and gasping through his own orgasm. “Oh god, oh shit… that was…”
“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.
”Mm don’t fucking ignore me again,” Patrick says.
As relaxed as Art feels right now. Distantly, the pit in his stomach is returning. “Patrick… are we… I mean… are we still gonna be… friends?”
“Yeah of course,” Patrick says, easy. He yawns. “Always.”
Art feels tied up in knots but he can tell Patrick’s relaxed, sated, relieved even. If anything he’s going to be asleep in five minutes. No point getting any deeper now.
“You wanna fall asleep on the phone or—?” Patrick asks, yawning again.
“No it’s… it’s fine.” Art says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Mmkay. Sweet dreams.”
Art bites his tongue to keep himself from saying something fucking stupid that he can’t take back. The line goes dead. Art stares at the ceiling for a minute, the three words he can’t say platonically to his best friend who he’s now fucking, are flitting about in his head. And Patrick wonders why he’s confused. He grabs his second pillow and pulls it over his face. He’s so fucked.
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justagalwhowrites · 2 days ago
Text
Halcyon - Ch. 19: Did You Mean That?
Joel confronts your shared past and potential future. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 18, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI
Length: 6.6k
AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter
Joel was frozen for longer than he was proud of, staring at the place you’d left him. 
I fucking heard you. 
What the fuck did that even mean? Heard what? 
He looked back toward Sarah’s room. He shouldn’t just leave her here by herself but he considered it all the same. He’d just… he’d go after you, make you talk to him like he should have done all those years ago. He wasn’t going to just let you disappear again, not this time. 
Instead, he called you, still standing on his front stoop, still considering chasing after you. It rang twice but then you sent him to voicemail. 
“Fuck!” 
His grip got tight on the phone but he resisted the urge to hurl the phone at the brick of his house. 
“Dad?” Sarah peered at him from around the doorway, her eyes somehow seeming especially wide. 
He sighed. 
“Yes, baby girl.” 
“You and Aunt Goldie were really in a fight, huh.” 
He sighed again, looking at his daughter even though it only made him feel worse. She loved you so much, you were the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother and Joel had fucked that up, too. 
“It’s… it’s complicated, baby girl,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s getting late, you should get ready for bed…” 
“But,” she huffed. “Dad, it’s Goldie. You can’t just let her leave, she’s family!” 
“I know,” he said, a hand on her back as he guided her back inside. “Not gonna just let her go, don’t worry. I just… need to figure out what to do first, OK?” 
“Promise you’re not going to just not talk again for years?” She asked, looking up at him. “Because - sorry, Dad - that was bullshit.” 
“Hey,” he said. “Language.” 
“Dad.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re right. It was bullshit.” 
He texted you while Sarah got ready for bed but you left him on read and he ground his teeth. He read his daughter a chapter from a book and resisted her begging to have him read another one before tucking her in, thankful that she still wanted him to do this at all. 
“Hey Dad?” She said as he went to leave. 
“Yes, baby girl?” 
“You’re going to talk to her, right?” 
He sighed. She sounded so hopeful. 
“I’ll fix it,” he said. “Promise. Love you.” 
“Love you too,” she said, sounding more relaxed. 
He closed the door behind him and went to the living room, pacing for a moment. 
I fucking heard you. 
He tried to remember the conversation with Ricky all those years ago, not something he’d really thought about in so long. 
Other things from that small window of time had dominated Joel’s memory. He remembered trying to find the words to talk to you, trying to come up with a plan for every possible outcome. If you wanted him, too, then he would figure out a way to be there for Tommy and his mom from afar and go with you. If, heaven forbid, you were pregnant, he would do everything to make sure you could still go to school and still be everything you were meant to be while he took care of the rest. If you wanted nothing to do with him… that had been the one scenario he hadn’t come up with a solution for. Of course, that had been the one he’d been left to reckon with. 
He remembered how he felt then, how desperate he’d been. But he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said to fucking Ricky, something that had apparently stuck out in your mind so much that you’d moved across the country without a fucking word. He went over it again and again but couldn’t remember it, even though it felt like his fucking life depended on it. 
Eventually he tried to call you again but it only rang once before you sent him to voicemail. 
He listened to your outgoing message, bright and cheery, flexing his hand again and again as he waited, impatiently, for the beep. 
“Goldie,” he said when it finally let him record a message. “Not letting you walk out, I’m gonna keep calling. Just… pick up, baby. Please.” 
He hung up and immediately called again. Two rings, then voicemail. He called again. 
The fourth time, you finally answered, your voice sharp and harsh. 
“What!” You snapped. “What more do you want from me?” 
“I want to talk to you,” he said, straining to keep calm. “I don’t know what you mean, I don’t remember what the fuck you’re talking about, I…” 
You laughed once, derisively. 
“Of course you don’t,” you said. “You wouldn’t, would you? Because I was always just another girl to you, wasn’t I? Why would you remember…” 
“No,” he cut you off. “No, that’s not…” 
“I need some space, Joel,” you said. 
“I’m not losing you again, Goldie,” he said, harsher than he really meant to. “Please, let me just…” 
“If you don’t want to lose me then do what I’m asking you to do,” you said. “I need space, OK? I can’t just do this with you, I can’t… just don’t call me or text me or whatever, just give me some time.” 
“Goldie…” 
“I mean it, Joel,” you said. “I need space.” 
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Fine,” he said. “I…I can do that.” 
“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll talk to later.” 
“Will you?” He asked, probably rougher than he should have. 
“Eventually,” you said. “Yeah.” 
“Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. “Yeah, OK.” 
You hung up and he sighed, sinking onto the couch and cradling his head in his hands for a moment. 
He was on the edge of losing you again, he could feel it. He couldn’t let it happen, not this time. He started thinking again, just like he had all those years ago, trying to think up contingency plans and ways to work through this without you leaving but, really, that’s what it always came back to. He’d do anything - he’d never touch you again, he’d tolerate your shitbag husband, he’d watch you live a life he was agonizingly separate from - if it just meant that you stayed. 
Joel got himself a drink, which quickly became two and then three, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how long he was supposed to stay away from you this time before he passed out on the couch. 
When he woke up the next day, time seemed to crawl. He couldn’t just ignore you.  You were in everything, it seemed. Sarah showed him the books you’d gotten her, excited about reading them. He reviewed his business plan again and again, looking at your notes in the margins. He put on a Longhorns t-shirt and remembered you sitting at his kitchen table, building out your syllabus for the year. 
Even Tommy noticed a difference when he was at work on Tuesday, seemingly short tempered and impatient. 
“You gonna tell me who pissed in your Cheerios or you gonna leave that a mystery?” Tommy asked as they leaned against his truck during a coffee break. 
“What do you mean?” Joel frowned, staring down at the paper cup and thinking about how you took your coffee and wondering what was he supposed to do with that knowledge if you were just gone now.
“I mean you’ve been biting people’s heads off all week,” Tommy said. “I mean, you’re always an asshole but you’ve been in rare form man.” 
“Tommy…” 
“Don’t feed me some bullshit, either,” he interrupted him. “Know you too well for that.” 
Joel looked at Tommy for a moment before he sighed and it all came spilling out of him - prom night, what had been happening between the two of you the last few months, the moment in his kitchen, what you’d yelled at him over the weekend, all of it. 
“Jesus,” Tommy said when he was done, just blinking at him, dumbfounded. “I… fuck, man. I always thought there was something between you two but… holy shit.” 
“I don’t know what the fuck it is she’s talking about,” Joel said. “I talked with Ricky back then but fuck if I can remember what it was about, that was more than a decade ago, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” 
“I mean… do you know how she feels?” Tommy asked, taking a sip of coffee.
“Yeah,” Joel scoffed. “Yeah, I think she’s made that perfectly fuckin’ clear.” 
“Has she?” Tommy said. “Because - and maybe you just didn’t mention it - but I don’t think you actually talked about it. Ever. Not once.” 
Joel frowned, looking at the ground, going over everything in his mind. 
That couldn’t be right, could it? 
It sure seemed like you’d talked about it. Maybe not explicitly, but everything you’d said pointed to you seeing him as a friend. You said you wanted to be with someone you could love and that wasn’t him. The first time he’d slept with you again, you asked him not to call you baby and he’d all but begged you to let him. He’d had to fucking comfort you the morning after the concert, tell you that it didn’t mean anything so you didn’t panic because being with him freaked you out that much. You’d never said it, not in so many words, but you didn’t need to. 
“Maybe you should ask her,” Tommy said when Joel had been quiet for too long. 
“Tommy,” Joel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just…” 
“Can’t you?” Tommy said. “I mean… shit, man. You already blew it all up, what else you got to lose?” 
Tommy’s words were still in Joel’s mind when he left the job site that afternoon, going home to get cleaned up before going to the bank for his business loan appointment. 
What did he really have to lose? He could at least tell you how he felt, a thought that made his chest tight but brought a sense of relief, too. He’d been holding this in for so long now. It seemed like loving you had become a part of him, one that he was used to keeping to himself but one he didn’t want to hide anymore.
He’d told himself for years that he’d loved you quietly because it’s what you wanted. You weren’t interested, it was unfair to put his feelings on you. Even when you were a country away and not speaking with him, he found it strangely comforting to know that while it might be because he’d caved to his baser instincts and slept with you, it wasn’t because he’d pushed his feelings on you. He had regrets - he’d have given anything to take back that night if it meant you’d just talk to him again - but at least he knew how he felt about you hadn’t been the thing that had driven you away. 
Could it really be possible that not telling you had been the thing that sent you running from him? Had he really wasted years of his life not having you all because he’d been too afraid of actually fucking saying it? 
He put on his best clothes - wishing he had a suit for the first time in his life - and took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. It felt like his whole life was riding on this, everything he could have sitting there, just out of reach. 
He’d never been worthy of you before. Back when he met you, he was barely passing his classes, going nowhere fast. Doomed to spend his life in his hometown, doing some job to get by while trying to keep his kid brother’s nose clean. He hadn’t gotten much better since, staying in the first job he could get, doing his best to raise the child he’d made by accident, trying to make something of himself as he could. It was nothing compared to you. But if he could manage this, actually do something real and tangible, maybe he’d feel worthwhile. 
Joel drummed his hands on the steering wheel as he drove, one of the Taylor Swift songs from the concert he’d gone to with you and Sarah coming on the radio and he remembered looking at you that night, remembered how much he wanted to kiss you in a way that actually meant something. He had to do this. He had to. 
His stomach was in knots as he sat in the bank waiting room, one foot bouncing as he tried not to crinkle his presentation and application in his hands. He wished you were here. Why was he doing this on his own? What made him think he was even fucking capable of this without you? 
After what felt like a small eternity, a woman named Audrey brought him back to her office and Joel took a deep breath before walking her through his business plan. 
His heart was pounding the entire time and there was something perverse about talking through a future that you weren’t somehow a part of. He walked Audrey through the financial plans, what the next five years would look like and there was the nagging thought at the back of his mind that he should have talked with you about all of this. How money would be tight for a while, how he’d be extra busy, how much he appreciated the way you’d supported him through all of this so far. He never could have done this without you pushing him, encouraging him, helping him navigate the business world. It felt like your success, too, when Audrey set his presentation down on her desk, nodding. 
“Well, Joel,” she said, looking at him with a smile. “I think we have everything we need. Congratulations, you’re getting your loan!” 
Joel just laughed for a second, looking next to him quickly before remembering that you weren’t by his side. 
“Thank you,” he said. “This is… thank you very much.” 
“Looking forward to doing business with you,” she smiled. “Give me just a minute and I’ll be back with some papers so we can get things going.” 
Joel took his phone out and stared at his text message conversation with you, the last thing he sent still “I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell you that he’d done it. He was a business owner, he was going to be something, he was becoming someone that Sarah was going to be proud of and it was all because you’d come back into his life. You were who he wanted to share this with and he couldn’t. 
Audrey gave him the paperwork and he went through it page by page, more than a little reminded of when he got his mortgage and felt like he was signing his life away but with more optimism about his future this time. 
About halfway through the paperwork, though, the pen started skipping. He tried wetting the tip of it, scratching on a corner of the paper but he couldn’t get it to write smoothly again. 
“Do you got another one of these?” Joel asked, holding the pen up. “Can’t get it to work…” 
“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Audrey said, looking around her desk, including at an empty pen cup. “Let me just…” 
She opened a desk drawer and took a few things out, piling things on her desk - a purse, water bottle, a book. 
Joel cocked his head at the book, the spine of it familiar. So familiar that he couldn’t help but laugh. Of course you’d be here, too. 
“What?” She asked as she found a plain, white box and pulled out a handful of pens with the bank’s logo on the side. She dropped them into the pen cup and held one out to Joel. 
“Oh, nothin’,” he said, taking the pen and nodding at the novel. “Just… my friend, she wrote that book. Funny seeing someone read it.” 
“Wait, really?” She asked, her face lighting up as she held up your book. “You know who wrote this?” 
“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “Yeah, she’s my best friend, known her since we were 15. She’s… she’s amazing. She teaches now, over at UT.” 
Audrey set the book down, leaning over the desk with her arms folded in front of her like she was going to tell Joel some kind of secret. 
“OK can I ask something?” She asked. “Sorry, this is probably hugely unprofessional but I am obsessed with this book, I can’t put it down and my book club is going crazy. Is any of it true? The falling in love and things ending like that? It seems like it has to be at least somewhat based on her life, I don’t see how someone could write this without knowing it, you know?” 
“Oh, uh,” Joel cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I actually… haven’t read it?” 
“Oh,” she said, sitting back a little, looking let down. 
“Sorry,” Joel said. “I’ve tried and I know it’ll be amazing but it’s just too weird for me…” 
“No, I’m sorry,” she laughed a little. “I overstepped, I shouldn’t have assumed…” 
“I should read it,” Joel said quickly. “I got it at home, maybe I’ll give it another go now.” 
“You should,” Audrey said. “It’s really, really good.” 
The new pen worked and Joel finished the paperwork, staring at his signature on the last page a  little too long. He handed the pen and papers back to Audrey. 
“You can keep the pen,” she smiled, taking the pages. “Let me make copies of these for your records but otherwise, congratulations, owner of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting!” 
Joel had a bubble of pride in his chest as he drove home, one that seemed too big to keep contained and, against his better judgement, he called you. 
He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected, if he thought you were going to send him to voicemail, if you were going to answer and let him actually say something to you or what. 
What he didn’t expect was Gale. 
“Hello?” 
Joel just blinked for a second, recognizing the man’s pompous voice even from just the one word. 
“Is this Joel?” Gale - fucking BRAD - said. He took his silence as a yes and laughed. “Was wondering if I’d hear from you. Don’t worry, she’s with me, back where she belongs. Thanks for looking after her while I was gone, though. Appreciate it.” 
“Lemme talk to her,” Joel said through clenched teeth. 
“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” he said. “Seems like she doesn’t want much to do with you these days. Think you blew it. Thanks for that, too, by the way.” 
“We’re just…” 
“You’re just nothing,” Gale cut him off. “You were nothing but a childish distraction for her. She went running back here when things got hard - which I take my part of the blame for - and she needed a project to keep herself busy but she doesn’t need you anymore. So go back to the little life you’re meant for and leave us be. She was always too much for you and this place, anyway.” 
“No,” Joel said sharply. “No, you put her on the phone, put her on the phone right now!” 
“Can’t do that,” Gale said. “But I’ll tell her you called. Take care.” 
The line went dead and Joel threw his phone against the dash so hard the screen cracked. 
“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his hands against the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to lose you, not again, not like this. 
He ignored Gale. Instead, he drove to your house, pounding sharply on the door, panting for breath as he did but you never answered. 
So he went to Anna’s next. He only needed to knock for a minute before she opened the door, Ellie’s beaming, chubby face happy in her arms. 
“Hey Joel,” Anna smiled at him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Here to see this one?” 
Ellie squirmed in Anna’s arms, cooing and reaching for Joel and he laughed once, he couldn’t help it, before holding his arms out for her. Anna handed him her daughter and Ellie giggled, immediately reaching to tangle her tiny fingers in his curls. He smiled at her for a moment, marveling at the little girl who’d brought you and him together in the way it felt like you were always meant to be.
“Is she here?” Joel asked, bouncing a little with Ellie, watching her smile, her little body a grounding force that eased his racing heart. 
“Oh,” Anna frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. “No, sorry, she’s not here too often anymore, just a few times a week… She moved back home, I thought you knew that?” 
“No, I did,” Joel said quickly, looking to Anna and offering a finger to Ellie for her to gum at. “She just… wasn’t there, tried callin’ her but…” 
“Oh,” Anna pulled her phone out, looking at the time. “She might still be at the school, I can call her for you…” 
“No,” Joel said quickly, not wanting to get your sister involved in the mess of whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it, sure I’ll talk to her eventually.” 
“OK,” Anna said, still frowning. “Look… It’s not my business but… Is there something going on with you two?” 
Joel just looked at Anna for a moment, wondering if he should tell her, too, because fuck it, why not just let the whole world know how much he’d fucked up with you.  
But she beat him to it, going from a frown to an absolutely glowing smile in no time at all. 
“Oh my God.” 
“What?” He asked, adjusting his hold on Ellie. 
“You love her!” She sounded practically giddy. “Oh my GOD I knew it! You LOVE her! Have you told her? Does she know? Oh my GOD, JOEL!” 
“I… I haven’t exactly said it,” Joel said, his cheeks getting hot. “I don’t want to make it her problem, I don’t want to get in the way of her being happy, I just… I want to be there for it.”
Anna just looked at him for a moment before shaking her head a little. 
“Is… Is she happy with him?” Joel asked, watching your sister closely. “Is he what she wants? I didn’t know her when they were really together, I just… it seems like he holds her back and that he’s bad for her and…” 
“Joel, did you read her book?” Anna cut him off. 
He frowned. 
“What? What does that…” 
“You wanted to know if he’s what she wants,” Anna said. “She’s never going to actually say it, you know that. At least not to you or to me, she’s always going to try to seem like she’s OK and handle it herself until she can’t and even then she’s not going to actually fucking say it, Joel, but she will write it. She always writes it. Read the book, Joel.” 
He gave Ellie back to Anna and went home, trying to focus as he made Sarah dinner and helped her with her homework. 
Read the book. Just read the fucking book. Was that all it would take? Could he even do that? If fucking Brad really was what you wanted, could he really sit and read hundreds of pages about how much better your life had been when he wasn’t in it? 
He’d never been able to manage it and it wasn’t because he didn’t want to know you through your words and it wasn’t because he didn’t like your writing. It was because he didn’t know if he could stomach reading something you wrote while you were in love with someone else. 
But… Anna was right. He knew that. If he wanted to know the truth of any of it, he’d have to read it. So, after he tucked Sarah into bed, he sat on the floor, staring at the box in his closet that held the two copies of your book like it was daring him to actually confront his feelings for a change. Because that had always worked out so well for him in the past, not like every fucking time he’d resolved to actually talk to you he hadn’t found you loving someone else. 
“Fuck it,” he muttered, opening the box and pulling out the books. This time, though, he picked the signed copy, the one he’d never tried to read before. There was something different about holding this copy, knowing that you had once, too. He ran his hands over the cover and the spine reverently for a moment before he leaned his back against the wall of the closet and opened the book. 
Joel had to force himself to read past the first few paragraphs, his stomach in knots the entire time, but, after a while, he fell into it - to the point that he almost forgot that he was reading your book. 
He’d known, from what little he’d managed to read in the past, that the book started in Austin, he just hadn’t expected the story to linger there.
But it did, the narrative following a girl named Cressida. She started out as a quiet, introspective high schooler who had become unlikely friends with a football player named Eli, a friendship that felt so like his with yours. They knew each other, understood each other, their worlds seem to revolve around each other. It seemed natural that it led to them sleeping together. But instead of the immediate implosion that had ended your relationship in real life, theirs devolved over time. Cressida came back to him again and again, the two of them winding up loosely connected every time a relationship of Eli’s fizzled out, her clinging to a heart wrenching longing that hurt to read, one that her friend seemed shockingly oblivious to.
Eventually, though, things came crashing down. This was different too, though, because it ended not with her vanishing but him, a car accident claiming Eli’s life when Cressida had finally resolved to tell him how she felt. They buried him in a sunny corner of the graveyard just before graduation and Cressida, it seemed, never really moved past it.
The other three-quarters of the book followed her as she tried – desperately, devastatingly – to live again, to get over the love she’d never really had to begin with, to find some place to root herself outside of that sun-drenched grave in her hometown.
She never really managed it, the ending almost painfully unsatisfying but feeling true. She’d become something – Cressida delving into the business world instead of the creative one as you had – and she found success away from home but her mind kept going back to that place and that person. She’d had relationships but, when her last boyfriend had proposed, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. It had felt like a lie, to tell someone she would love him above all others when she’d never love him more than the memory of the boy who had been gone for years. He’d died at the worst time, the part of her life that would always be on a pedestal no matter what she did. Nothing and no one would ever compare and she was stuck, still going back to him again and again even though he was cold in the ground.
The last chapter closed with her bringing home a man who reminded her of her friend, something charming about him that took her back to that brighter place for a while. But when he fell asleep next to her, she had to confront that hollow feeling in her chest. In the last moment of the story, she bought a plane ticket to go back to that sunny grave site, something about the calm that fell over her when she decided to go back making it seem like that grave was her resting place, too.
Joel just stared at the book when he read the final words, the last pages flopping over, revealing your picture on the inside flap of the dust jacket. That knowing smile and piercing gaze gutted him then, no longer the taunt and temptation of knowledge they had once been.
Was Anna right, was this the truth of it? Did you write out your real feelings? Had he really gotten everything this fucking wrong? Had he really spent years wishing things with you were different when they’d been different all along?
He got out his phone and ignored the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning and called you. You didn’t answer. It didn’t even go to voicemail, the phone ringing once before he got some message saying the number was unavailable.
“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He wasn’t positive but, based on his experience trying to track down Sarah’s mom years ago, that meant you’d blocked his number. It’d be just his fucking luck that he thought - hoped? - that, maybe, you felt the way he did at the same time he lost you for good.
He sat there with his eyes closed in the glow of his closet light, next to the box made up of the history of you, trying to pick through his memory from all those years ago, searching for some sort of guarantee that the book was based on what happened between the two of you back then.  
At some point, when he was swallowed by his memory of you, he fell asleep. Maybe it was the book, maybe it was the fact that he’d been sifting through ancient history when exhaustion finally caught up with him, maybe it was your words still ringing in his ears, but he remembered then. 
In his dream, he was back under the bleachers with Ricky, pacing to work out his nerves. He talked to his friend - the one who was more experienced, the one who wasn’t reckless, the one who would understand exactly why he was so afraid of what he might have just done to you. 
But, most importantly, he remembered exactly how that conversation had ended. 
It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.
“Dad!” 
Joel jerked awake, the book still open in his hands, your signature there for him to see. 
I fucking heard you. 
Sarah pounded on his bedroom door again. 
“Dad, come on!” She yelled. “I’m gonna be late!” 
“Shit,” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and checked the time before calling to his daughter. “Two minutes, baby girl!” 
He got up as quickly as he could, his legs tingling from his awkward sleeping position on the floor of the fucking closet. 
Joel got changed quickly, barely paying attention to what he was putting on.
He’d had the answers sitting there for years, he’d just been too afraid to look it in the face but he had and now he knew. He knew how you felt - how you must have felt, why else would his misunderstood words have driven you away? - he knew how much time he’d already fucking wasted by being a coward, he knew it all now. 
He just didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. 
Joel got Sarah out the door quickly, barely paying attention on his drive to the school. He couldn’t just give up. He already refused to lose you, not again, but now it would be impossible. You were so close, everything he’d ever wanted there in front of him but just out of reach. Even if you’d moved on now, even if you were happier with fucking Brad, he had to tell you. He owed both of you that much. 
“Bye Dad!” Sarah poked her head between the two front seats and gave him a peck on the cheek. 
“What was that for?” He frowned, turning to look at her. 
She just shrugged and smiled. 
“Just seemed like you needed it,” she said. “Love you!” 
“Love you too!” He called after her as she hopped down from the truck and slammed the door behind her with a little too much force, waving behind her as she ran to the building. 
“Alright,” he took a deep breath, looking at the clock on his dashboard. Just after 8 a.m. He’d start at your place because he wasn’t sure what time you went to campus this semester. But he was going to talk to you. He was going to talk to you and he was going to tell you how he felt and he was going to do it today. “I’m comin’, Goldie.” 
You weren’t at your place when he got there. He tried not to think about if it was because you’d spent the night with fucking Brad, if you’d gone to his hotel and had never even been here. Instead, he went to campus. He wasn’t sure where you’d be teaching right now but he was pretty sure you wouldn’t be in your office. You always had morning classes with a break in the afternoon. 
“Excuse me,” he said to a random passing college student. “I’m lookin’ for… shit, probably creative writing? Or literature? What buildings are those?” 
“Oh, um,” the girl looked around quickly. “I’m a physics major but I know I had an English class in that building over there last semester? You could start there?” 
She pointed to a building in the distance and Joel kept his groan to himself. He forgot how fucking huge college campuses were. 
But he couldn’t just sit and wait. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now. 
“Thanks,” he said, giving her a wave and already starting to jog for the building. “Appreciate it!” 
But you didn’t have a class in that building. At least not at that time of day. He knew because he looked in all the lecture halls. You weren’t there. 
He tried two other buildings after asking for directions - no luck - before checking his watch. If your schedule was anything like it had been the semesters before, you’d be in your office soon. That, at least, he knew how to find. 
He jogged there, resisting the urge to run because that would probably make him look utterly insane, and threw his arm out to catch the elevator on its way up. 
“Floor 10, please,” he said to one of the college girls looking at him funny as he panted for breath. She did as he asked, though, and he marveled, for a moment, at just how fucking young college kids seemed to him now.
He closed his eyes and focused for a second, trying to figure out exactly what to say to you, but hearing your name pulled him out of his head. 
“I don’t think they’re still like… together together, though,” the girl who’d pushed the button said. “Like I know they were married but she said he was visiting. He’d live here if they were married, right? Besides, I really don’t think her husband would be asking for my number with his wife there, would he?” 
“I dunno,” the other girl shrugged. “He’s just… isn’t he old? Like old old, not hot old.” 
“I like them old,” the first girl giggled. “They know what they’re doing then.” 
The elevator chimed and the girls got off and Joel’s heart was beating so hard he could feel the blood in his body. You’d brought fucking Brad here and he’d hit on one of your fucking students - one who looked so young Joel never would have looked twice at her if he saw her on the street. Right in front of you, from the sounds of it. That’s who you’d chosen, that’s who you’d felt like you deserved because he hadn’t opened his fucking mouth years earlier. 
When the elevator made it to floor 10, he squeezed out of the doors, not willing to wait for them to open all the way, and ran to your office. 
“Excuse me,” the girl behind the front desk said as he went past her. “You can’t just…” 
“It’s fine,” he said, catching the door as someone came out of the hall where your office was. 
“No, wait!” She called after him but he ignored her. 
He ducked around other professors, dodging them and their questions until he was at your door. 
It was closed but he didn’t bother to knock, throwing the door open to find you there, standing in front of your desk in the arms of your fucking husband as he kissed you. 
Joel moved so fast that neither you nor Gale had noticed he was there but he couldn’t just stand there and watch that fucking guy kiss you, not like that. 
Without really thinking about it, he ripped him away from you, just catching a glimpse of the shock on your face as he punched Gale in the head, sending him sprawling into your desk. 
“Joel!” You yelled before grabbing his arm and pulling him back before he could hit your goddamn husband again. “What the fuck are you doing!” 
“Sorry, baby,” he said, shaking the feel of the punch out of his hand, his knuckles raw. “I couldn’t just watch that fucking guy touch you like that.” 
“Well, it’s really not your business how he touches me!” You snapped, shoving him back. “You don’t get to just come in here and hit people because you’re not getting your way anymore!” 
“That ain’t what this is,” he said, taking you by the shoulders, something grounding in the fact that could feel you again. “Baby, I read your book…” 
“Congratulations!” You snapped. “What, do you want a cookie because you finally got around to supporting me?” 
“No,” he shook his head. “Did you mean that? What you wrote, was that…” 
“What does it matter!” You asked, your eyes searching his face. “Why do you care! It’s ancient history, it doesn’t…” 
“It does matter!” He held you tight, wanting to kiss you more than he ever had before. “It matters because I love you, I love you so much, I’ve loved you since we were fucking kids, I love you so much that I think it might kill me if you don’t let me just say that to you at least this once and if you feel that way, too…” 
“You need to leave,” Gale - who Joel had all but forgotten about - said, trying to position himself between you and Joel. “And take your hands off my wife.” 
“Oh I haven’t even fuckin’ started with you,” Joel said, rounding on him. “You’re a fucking predator, chasing after her fuckin’ students while you’re here with her? Doing with them what you did with her, that it? Lucky I don’t beat the shit out of you…” 
“Joel, I…” you began, but you didn’t get the chance to finish, Gale pulling you back from Joel and going to hit him. 
Joel didn’t give him the chance, shoving him away from you before punching him again. Gale fell, landing on your desk again with a sharp crack. 
“Joel!” You yelled. 
He didn’t get a chance to respond. Instead, he got pulled back, security guards dragging him into the hall and away from you before he knew if he had a shot at really having you for the first time in his life.
A/N: FUCK YOU GALE!
Sorry, I've been picturing that moment since I first thought up the fic. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!
Taglist: @kaseyconnour
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saltnsugarbear · 3 days ago
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Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 
so like on the low i ate this up
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word count: 1.0k
content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)
side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)
come celebrate!
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One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.
It made him like pushing your buttons even more.
So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.
Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.
And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.
"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."
"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.
"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.
"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.
Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."
You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.
"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."
"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.
"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.
You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.
You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"
"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.
With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.
Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.
Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.
Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.
"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."
"Fuck..." Lip mutters.
"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.
You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.
"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"
You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.
"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.
"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.
"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.
"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.
"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"
Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.
"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"
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