#fic idea i will never write
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Okay so I read a fic (in another fandom) that made me think, and this morning I woke up with ready-made fic idea in my head which I will ABSOLUTELY NOT WRITE, I have too many WIPs already, so I'll just ... write it all out here and then hope that's enough to get it out of my head.
So! Harringroveson-ish. Very rough, train-of-thought style.
Imagine Eddie and Steve smoking together and hooking up on the regular, because they both live in a small town and it's difficult and risky to find another guy who's willing to fool around in small-town Hawkins. So they've been doing it for a while, and they have fun and like each other kind of a lot and are comfortable with each other and all even though they keep it on the downlow for obvious reasons.
And then Billy Hargrove rolls into town, and he's mesmerizing and both Steve and Eddie can't really keep away from him. But Billy's acting so über straight that surely, none of them have a chance, right? So they may talk about him when they're together (for the Thrill or Sexytimes of it, idk), but they don't really think they have a chance. Until they start realizing that Billy's eyes ... wanders, if he thinks no one is watching. So they start talking about it, about trying to see if they can seduce him to the gay side of Hawkins, and it's mostly a joke between them, to get the other riled up when they're together; talking about what they'd do to him if they could. Because Billy's always taking girls out, and he's got quite the reputation - SURELY he's got a lot of sexual experience and would be up for whatever, right?
And like, they both think that THEY'd be the one to succeed to sway Billy over. Steve thinks that since he's the former King Steve and plays sports with Billy and they hang out in the same circles, of course he'd have luck with the guy than Eddie, but Eddie claims that with the music Billy listens to and the car he's got, he's obviously got more in common with Eddie than Steve ...
So they make a bet. Mostly as a joke, but a bet nonetheless; Which one of them will bed Billy first?
Meanwhile, Billy is of course secretly gay and has been moved to a closed-minded town against his will by his abusive dad for being found out just kissing another boy, and even though he's secretly eyeing both the former King of Hawkins High and the King of the Freaks, he does not fool himself into thinking something will happen. He can't allow himself to show a single sign of his preferences. So he takes girls out on dates, a string of them, and he parties and he flirts and he wraps Hawkins around his thumb, and only shows the careful mask he has created, and not an ounce of the real Billy, because he wants to live until graduation, thank you very much.
He had planned to just keep his head above water and survive until he could get the hell out of town, but that gets increasingly difficult when the two guys who he's been eyeing start to approach him. Trying to be friends? Trying to throw him off? Or ... check out the competition? Billy's not sure what's going on here, but he knows it's messing with his mask and his composure. Harrington didn't use to play this hard in gym, did he? Rubbing up on Billy like he is, now. Didn't use to smile at him and talk to him and like, stretch out in the shower after practice. And Munson had kept his distance until then, so what's up with the way he suddenly appears whenever Billy's sneaking off for a smoke, offering a good price on weed and inviting Billy to see his band play?
So, Steve and Eddie do their best to seduce Billy, mostly as a challenge between the two of them, but when they notice that Billy gets flustered when they touch him or lets his gaze for a little too long when they do things like stretch or lick their lips and so on, they start to suspect that this could actually happen. It's not so far-fetched as they might have thought. So they talk, and find it very exhilerating to imagine that maybe they both actually stand a chance, here ... but of course, the bet is still on. Who will have him first?
Billy's only human. And gay. And desperately alone in this sea of people, since no one knows the real him. So he's falling for it, even if he's hesitant and afraid (because of Neil, because of what if this is an elaborate prank, and also partly because all that he's done with a boy thus far has been kissing (Your choice as to what he has actually done with girls)).
Maybe both Eddie and Steve are getting bolder, right about now. Putting the moves on Billy, so that there's no mistaking their intentions. And Billy is tempted, so very tempted - but also so very scared. He backs off, or draws back, or maybe stammeringly mentions that his dad would kill him if he found out. "He's not gonna find out," whoever is with him says, but Billy bites his lip. Hesitates. Shakes his head.
But like, of course, eventually one of them - Steve or Eddie, your pick - succeeds. Billy gives in, gives up, throws caution to the wind. He gets to sleep with at least one of his crushes, and it's GOOD, it's so much better than he could have ever imagined sex to be and he can't believe he's so lucky that he gets to have this.
And of course whoever won the bet is thrilled. Both because they got to fuck Billy (who they are realizing that they LIKE, just like they like their other boyfriend), but also because of the thrill of winning the bet. So after, directly after or the morning after, your choice, they hurry back to their boyfriend to gloat about their win. Maybe they have to look for him, though, so they don't find him right away. Because of course for PLOT REASONS we need Billy to be at that place, too - feeling light, happy, and for the first time not feeling like a prisoner in this town - and overhearing. Overhearing the gloating, the "I won our bet" and "yup, fucked him good" and the "he was so sweet, you should have seen him". And then, for added angst, of course Billy sees the two of them kissing, making out. Looking very busy and into each other.
Billy should be angry, but he's so shocked and gutted that he can't bring up even a spark of anger.
And I want them to spot him there. Realize, by the paleness of his face, that he heard every word. That he thinks they've used him, made fun of him - and they kind of HAVE. But when they break apart and turn horrified eyes on him, Billy turns and runs. They go after him, try to stop him, but oh THERE's that anger (bubbling up to hide the HURT), so he rips himself out of their grip and snarls at them not to TOUCH HIM. Maybe he yells at them, for using him and stringing him along and making him think he meant something when really he was just a pawn, just a game. Maybe he doesn't say ANYTHING, just blinks away tears and leaves. I don't know which is worse.
But he leaves, and they feel horrible. They realize that they fucked up BIG TIME, they should have approached this differently, they never should have made that bet. They talk (again) and realize that they actually DO both like him, and they want him with THEM, all three o f them together. They decide to try to make things right, somehow. Explain to Billy, grovel at his feet etc.
But oh, it's not that easy of course. Because Neil has gotten wind of Billy being seen with some boy (maybe a neighbor saw him when either Eddie or Steve reached for his hand or pressed a kiss to his cheek or something, in the late stages of the seduction), and he punishes Billy for it. Severly. Billy's home from school for a week, recovering. Steve and Eddie thinks he's avoiding them, but eventually put their foot down like, enough is enough, if he doesn't come to us we'll come to him, so they go to his house.
Thankfully, Neil isn't home. But Billy is. And when he opens the door, still black and blue, they are horrified. Billy is afraid that anyone will see them and tells them to go, and even scrapes up some anger and tells them that this is their fault, which shuts down their attempts at apologies, and then slams the door in their face.
Eddie and Steve do some more talking, maybe some minor stake-outs. Realizes that when Billy said his dad would kill him, he meant it, and if the man knew what Billy had done, Billy might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. They feel bad (as they should, and also because this is my fic and I live for the guilt).
In the end, I think they'd have to find a way to get Billy out of his abusive household, as a way to prove they are sorry, and that they're serious about him. Maybe they set something up to make sure Neil gets caught in the act, maybe they involve the police, maybe they blackmail the man or threaten him somehow. I don't care how. But they get Billy SAFE. And THEN they grovel. As they damn well should.
And I hope that eventually, they manage to convince Billy that in fact, they were BOTH into him from the start, and the bet was just a way for them to dare to act on it. They both wanted him, with them both. And they still want him.
And maybe Billy might just be lonely enough to eventually believe them.
#harringroveson#billy hargrove#steve harrington#eddie munson#fic idea i will never write#would kill to read it though!#up for adoption if anyone wants it#i'm not even being nice about it; this is me kicking this idea to the curb and letting it fend for itself on the harsh streets of fandom#in order to sleep and NOT add to my WIP pile
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Idea I'll probably won't write
Percy and Luke are highschool sweethearts, they get together when Percy is in his second year and Luke is in his final (he had to repeat one year because of a car accident). When Luke graduates, he moves away for college, but they continue their relationship as long distance relationship.
First, they talk every day, then every second, then every week, as Luke's schedule gets busier with school work and friends. Percy is jealous, of course he is, but he is also happy for his boyfriend that he is doing okay.
But, if he wants to be honest, he would love to hear less about this "Tavy" guy, because slowly but surely he takes over the topic of their conversations, which, quite honestly, fills Percy with dread.
So, he decides to visit Luke-
#can be read as#octavian x percy x luke#or luke cheating on percy#percy jackson#luke castellan#lukercy#fic idea#fic idea i will never write
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i wish you guys lived inside my head the fics in here go crazy
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pjo prompt: percy and jason have to go on a quest together, so they both decide to bring their respective partners (annabeth and leo). during the quest, they get kidnapped by monsters and percy and jason wake up in an arena. the monsters explain that they have their partners and in order to save them, they have to fight to the death, with the winner getting to leave alive with their partner, while the other is killed. however, the monsters are very shocked when percy and jason sit down and start calmly playing cards with each other. they’re not worried about their partners. instead, they’re worried for the monsters. they trapped annabeth and leo together, two of the smartest demigods. the girl who redesigned olympus and the boy who built a warship in six months. they were toast.
#pjo#percy jackson#jason grace#annabeth chase#leo valdez#percabeth#valgrace#like they could probs take over the world if they wanted (and those two would help)#never leave these two alone for too long they will find a way to defy the laws of the universe just for fun#lowkey kinda wanna write it but too many wips#might start a drabble series just to write like the one scene i want to in long fics I have ideas for#mmmmm we shall see
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Crack JJK headcanons but it’s all early 2000s uncle Sukuna:
The spiritual successor to Crack JJK headcanons based on nothing but vibes. Send me your own silly headcanons I would absolutely love to read them!!
2003-2007
He desperately tried to make Yuuji’s first word be “fuck.”
He got so sick and tired of having to watch the same Barney VHS tape while babysitting that he ripped the film out and blamed it on toddler Yuuji.
Yuuji always begs him to draw his tattoos on him every time he babysits.
One time toddler Yuuji broke Sukuna’s flip phone in half. Sukuna was too impressed to be mad at him for it.
2008-2013
He brought five year old Yuuji to a Slipknot concert and had him up on his shoulders with big noise cancelling headphones on… and also “forgot” to ask Jin permission to bring him beforehand.
He tried to do a trick on Yuuji’s razor scooter and accidentally broke it.
He took Yuuji with him to Warped Tour.
He got really embarrassed when Jin showed Yuuji his high school yearbook photos of him with a mohawk.
He has a leather jacket with pins and patches all over it and Yuuji LOVES wearing it when he comes over.
2014-2017
He cut Yuuji’s hair when he got into middle school and told Jin “I’ll be damned if my nephew has a bowl cut.”
When Yuuji got into a fight at school he asked him “did you win?” When Yuuji said yes he took him to get ice cream.
He had a white iPhone and dropped it, cracking the glass on the back; Yuuji colored in the cracks with neon pink sharpie.
The first time Yuuji snuck out Sukuna chewed him out when he got back home, telling him “I don’t care if you sneak off, but you fucking tell me next time.”
Whenever Yuuji gets in trouble at school, Sukuna is always the one to pick him up because the principal is afraid of him.
#I have so many fanart ideas and a potential fic idea with these headcanons#I’ll probably never write the fic cause I’m not a good writer BUUUT maybe I’ll end up just going for it some day#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#yuuji itadori#yuji itadori#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#unckuna#uncle!sukuna#unckuna au#samaras yapping#Sukuna#itadori#jin itadori#jjk spoilers#nav ryomen sukuna#nav yuuji itadori#my writing#headcanons ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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Zoro never cared for bath time… until bath time meant getting his head massaged by a certain cook’s masterful hands.
The first time it was done out of annoyance and an attempt to show the marimo how to wash his hair properly, but that effort seemed to go to waste considering that Sanji washes his mossy hair every time now.
Somewhere along the line it became a ritual; Zoro sits in the bath and Sanji settles in behind him and gets to work. Zoro actively looks forward to it at this point. Sanji swears Zoro acts more relaxed these days. Not that he has any complaints about it, it’s actually quite nice. It also means that Zoro bathes more often, thank god.
It started as hair washing, but eventually Sanji finds himself gently rubbing the mosshead’s temples and massaging circles into the back of his neck. He knows very well the importance of muscle care, especially with the flexibility required for his own combat style. He trusts that Zoro has his own regimen, but he figures it couldn’t hurt.
For Zoro’s part, the simple action means more to him than the curlybrow probably realizes. As a silent thank you, he stays after dinner each night and helps the cook wash the dishes. And Sanji understands. Because they know each other better than anyone, so they don’t need words.
#was thinking about domestic zosan and this idea hit me like a train#I have never felt so much clarity in my life#I hope you all see my vision#zosan writing#zosan thoughts#zosan headcanons#zosan fic#zosan rambling#zosan#roronoa zoro#zoro#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#zoro x sanji#zoro and sanji#sanzo#one piece#one piece headcanons
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In which Milva asks Regis for a trim, and she finds out about the vampire-mirror phenomenon
#the witcher books#the witcher#milva barring#emiel regis#i realized i've never drawn milva with short hair#and thought “what if regis gave her a haircut..”#imagining that this happened sometime in beauclair...#forever sad that sapkowski did not write any accounts of regis doing the hanza's hair btw#the man is a barber-surgeon that's half of his profession‼️#imagine regis and dandelion discussing hair styling#or regis lending geralt a razor bc his beard is growing in again#these are not original ideas i'm sure there are fics out there but. i have regis on the brain#magpie draws
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robin !!!
#my art#bruce wayne#batfamily#batman#dick grayson#robin#dc robin#fanart#i got more stuff cookin#alsooo coming up with some fic ideas#that likely i will never write#;;;;however
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I want to make an AU where Bill was never evil but his personality is still the same outside of that so the Pines twins show up to stay with their Great Uncle Stanford and he introduces them to his husband who's just. A funky little chaotic triangle creature from another dimension. He gives them deer teeth as welcome presents and both he and Ford (who is extremely accustomed to his weirdness after 30 years together) act like that's a Perfectly Normal Thing to Do. Dipper is LOSING it, Mabel is LOVING it (she makes a necklace and earrings out of them)
#have no idea what i would name this. also i can't draw which makes me sad bc i have so many ideas for this#my first thought was “good Bill au” since it's kind of the inverse of the “evil Ford au” but idk#I MIGHT write a fic about this concept but I always struggle with properly characterizing Bill so I never post my Billford fics#billford#gravity falls#domesticated bill au#<- name suggested in the replies so that's how i'll tag it for now
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PART ONE
summary: by chance you and your emotionally unavailable husband meet a friendly couple that invite you stay at their farmhouse in scotland. however the time spent there with johnny & kyle has you questioning if there's a dark side to them you didn't see before.
a speak no evil au - masterlist
notes: manipulative johnny & kyle, piv, noncon, somno, never explicitly acknowledged abusive relationship between reader and her husband (financial, physical, emotional, coercive control), drinking, murder, it's dead dove horror people!! heed the warnings
you picked at the buttery croissant on the plate in front of you, trying your best to block out the sound of your husband’s voice as it grew more frustrated by the minute. you pitied the poor soul he was berating on the other end of the line, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad enough to try and stop him, to turn his ire against you instead.
he wouldn’t listen to you anyway, hadn’t the first few times you’d asked when you’d first arrived on your honeymoon.
you scoffed quietly and shoved a bite into your mouth, chewing obstinately. two years late, but sure. your honeymoon.
elliot sighed heavily, and threw his phone down onto the table, rattling your coffee and gaining the attention of nearby hotel staff. “i work with fucking idiots, christ. how hard is it to follow instructions?”
“it’s why they keep you around, smartest one on your team,” you said appeasingly, the same rote answer you always gave him when he got in his moods.
��smartest one at the whole fucking firm more like,” he scoffed. you cringed at the scornful looks sent your way from the other couples on the retreat. “useless. the lot of them.”
the french riviera had been a dream destination for you for years, one elliot had known about from early in your dating days. the holiday he’d booked was all inclusive; tailored to honeymooners specifically with romantic activities on and off site and transport easily accessible in order to explore the area.
you felt as though you should’ve been having the time of your life as you sat eating breakfast looking over the beautiful beach view, but you’d never felt emptier. the sight of happy couples around you day after day had only highlighted your husband’s distance.
elliot had promised this trip would change things for you both, for your relationship, but the last six days had proven the opposite. if he wasn’t busy and distracted on his phone, elliot was complaining about the quality of the food, the amenities, even the bloody people.
it was too much and just the morning before you’d been tempted to ask him to cut the fortnight away short when he’d gotten an urgent email and then a frantic call from his boss.
you’d sighed in relief when he’d left you to wander the local area by yourself for the day; happy to escape his negativity for an hour even as you felt guilty for thinking so. you knew he worked hard, you knew his job was important, and his work meant you could afford your luxury apartment in London and be able to take trips like this one without stressing over the cost.
you’d taken the time to go to the market you’d read about on the plane, the place des lices, and tried every free sample of cheese that had been waved your way once you’d gotten there. but you hadn’t been the only one from your hotel to take advantage of the famous food stalls as you recognised the deep scottish brogue of one half of the couple that were staying in the room next to yours; it rose even above the busy hum of french chatter easily.
you’d turned your head and smiled when you caught his pretty husband’s eyes before turning back to the stall merchant and buying a chunk of fresh camembert for elliot to try. you’d been eyeing up the fruit stall further down and were debating the brie too if you spotted some good cranberry jam.
“you’re from the hotel, right?” you suddenly heard from your left. you turned to find the couple a lot closer than before, apparently taking your polite smile as invitation to join you. “i’ve seen you at the pool before. I’m kyle, this is my husband, johnny.”
“nice t’meet ye.”
you’d introduced yourself and shook their hands once your cheese was carefully packed into your tote bag.
“where’s yer chatty husband?” johnny asked, eyes scanning the crowd.
you flushed, a creeping sense of embarrassment rising as you thought of elliot back at the hotel shooing you off before you’d even sat for breakfast.
“oh he had some emergency at work he had to deal with,” you excused. “didn’t need me hanging around distracting him, so i went for a walk.”
“you’re on your own?” kyle asked with a concerned frown.
“yeah, but i don’t mind. i travelled alone a lot before we were together. i’m used to my own company,” you said with a soft laugh.
the pair swapped a silent look before focusing back on you. “well, we’d be happy to have ye if you’re feeling lonely, bonnie,” johnny offered. “we were thinkin’ of goin’ wine tasting after this now that we’ve got our snacks, if you’d like to join.”
you chuckled as johnny raised their bag and wiggled his eyebrows.
“i wouldn’t want to intrude.” you shook your head.
“it beats heading back to the hotel,” kyle cajoled. “unless you had other plans?”
you pursed your lips before letting a small, shy smile grow. “ok. wine tasting sounds fun.”
you had spent the afternoon laughing and eating the cheese, bread and fruits you’d bought at the market over glasses of wine with johnny and kyle, a wide smile never leaving your lips even as the three of you stumbled back up the steps to the hotel.
your phone had stayed silent the entire day and it wasn’t until you were waving goodbye to your new friends and opening the door to your hotel room that you wondered if elliot would be annoyed at you for staying out so long without contacting him.
you smiled a little shakily as you caught him leaving the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips. “good day?”
“fixed their mess if that’s what you mean,” elliot huffed, but he turned to you with a satisfied smile and nodded. he dipped his head down and kissed you sweetly. “what about you? good day?”
“mhm,” you hummed, your smile settling more firmly on your face at his easy mood. “i went wine tasting.”
“oh?” elliot grinned, looking at you a little closer and taking in the signs of your slight inebriation, the way you swayed slightly on your feet and the almost sleepy glaze over your eyes.
“met a few new friends,” you said. “johnny and kyle.”
elliot stiffened for a moment before smiling again, less genuine and with a sharper edge this time. “oh? that’s nice. i’ll be free to spend the day doing whatever you’d like tomorrow, darling. no need for friends on our honeymoon.”
“you will?” you asked as you started to undress, surprised he wasn’t asking for an extra day to check everything with work had settled. you didn’t look the gift horse in the mouth however. “there’s a great market i saw today we could go to. i wouldn’t mind going twice, the cheese is amazing—“
“sure, sure. fine. let’s just sleep now, yeah? i’m exhausted after today,” elliot interrupted as he dried himself off before climbing into bed.
“of course, yeah. we can figure it out over breakfast.”
which brought you back to now, with your croissant and your husband and your beach view and the ever growing pit of disappointment.
you skimmed your eyes over the other couples sat on the veranda with you and felt jealousy bubble and spit in your stomach. it was the small things you longed for, the easy affection you craved; legs hooked together under the table, feeding each other, shy smiles shared behind mugs, little jokes whispered on the breeze.
you felt tears prickle at your eyes unexpectedly and wiped at them hastily before elliot could notice.
“bonnie?” your head whipped up at the familiar voice and you smiled automatically at johnny and kyle as they made their way over. johnny was in a pair of shorts, and you saw a knee brace peek out from the hem.
“mind if we join you?” kyle asked, already pulling out a chair at your eager nod, ignoring the deep frown on elliot’s face.
“and you are?” elliot asked rudely, looking between the two men.
“this is johnny and kyle, the couple i told you about last night.” you laid a gentle hand on elliot’s forearm.
“oh, the wine tasters. right.”
“heard you were busy saving yer boss’ arse yesterday,” johnny said with a pinched smile. “yer bonnie wife didnae mention what ye did though?”
“i work for a powerful man looking after his money,” elliot explained vaguely, with an air of condescension.
you noticed kyle wave over a waitress and quietly order for both him and johnny, his palm settled firmly on johnny’s thigh beneath the table.
“oh aye? tha’s a lotta responsibility then. no wonder yer always looking so stressed on yer phone,” johnny laughed.
“oi, be nice, john,” kyle scolded, but the smile teasing the corner of his lips took away any bite the reprimand held.
“sorry, uh, emmet, was it?”
“elliot,” you corrected quickly.
johnny snapped his fingers and nodded. “right, right. sorry, my memory’s not what it used to be.” he waved at a rough scar at the side of his head.
“so how long have you two been together?” kyle asked as their drinks arrived. you saw elliot sniff at the vast amount of sugar kyle poured into his tea.
“five years,” you answered at the same time elliot answered, four years. you turned to him with a frown. “we’ve been married for two. we met before your promotion, remember?”
“are you sure, darling?” elliot asked.
“yes, elliot. i’m sure.”
kyle and johnny watched silently, eyebrows raised until you turned back to your croissant with a tense jaw.
“time flies ‘n all that,” johnny said, hoping to ease your tension.
“right.” you nodded. “what about you guys? been together long?”
“been stuck with him for a decade now,” kyle huffed, patting his hand on johnny’s leg.
“been blessed by me, more like, cheeky sod,” johnny muttered.
you laughed as kyle leant in to kiss his cheek obnoxiously. “met in the forces, just clicked.”
“been together ever since i caught him starin’ in the showers,” johnny boasted with a grin.
elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair and johnny’s grin dropped minisculely and his eyes hardened.
“what’re yer plans today then, bonnie?”
“oh, uhm, we’re not quite sure yet,” you said looking to elliot. “maybe the market since elliot missed it yesterday?”
“you should join us on our cruise along the coast,” kyle said. “just us and the captain, and a fair bit of booze; views are meant to be unmissable.”
“sounds better than a market,” elliot chuffed before shrugging. “sure, why not?”
“really?” you were more than surprised elliot was willingly agreeing to spend more time with kyle and johnny given how on edge he’d been just sat with them the last ten minutes.
“what d’ye say, bon?” johnny leant over the small table with a smile, taking up enough space for you to feel surprisingly cornered.
“pretty hard to say no to ‘unmissable’,” you said and forced a laugh.
“great,” kyle said and johnny slumped back into his seat, throwing an arm around the back of kyle chair. “we’ve got an hour before we’re meant to be there so eat up, love.”
elliot bristled at their familiarity with you and wrapped his own arm around the back of your chair, his hand curling around your shoulder and squeezing just a tad too tight. “she’s already eaten.”
“what, that little pastry?” johnny laughed. “you’ll need yer energy for what we’ve got planned, hen.” johnny winked.
you felt yourself flush involuntarily, your heart thumped and your eyes widened at the accidental insinuation and you knew elliot had heard it the same way going by the agitated tap of his leg beneath the table.
“i’ll probably just have another coffee,” you said placating, and smiled thinly when elliot kissed your temple. “i can grab something for on the boat or afterwards maybe.”
“that’s my girl,” elliot spoke into your hair.
---
while kyle and johnny finished up their breakfast, you nipped back into your room to change into your swimwear underneath your dress and met them along with elliot at the steps leading down to the beach.
once you’d left the dock and were deep enough in the water that it became a mesmerising dark blue, it didn’t take much convincing to have you jump in the water with johnny as the boat idled in place. elliot had waved you off with a dismissive glance at his phone when you asked if he’d join and kyle had promised to have the towels ready when you’d both ran out of energy.
“not joining them?” elliot asked, sparing a quick glance at kyle as he sat down next to your husband.
“figured i’d keep you company ‘til johnny climbs back on board. we’re temporary neighbours after all, yeah?” kyle said. he looked over the side of the boat and shook his head at his husband splashing you despite your giggly squeals of outrage. “married for two years?” he asked out of the blue and waited for elliot to hum his agreement. “what you doing on a honeymoon trip then, if you don’t mind me asking?”
elliot sighed frustratedly as he locked his phone and put it down beside him, knowing he was going to get nothing done with kyle yammering by his side. “we’re busy people, only just found the time together to go.”
kyle raised his eyebrows in shock. “busy indeed.” he looked to elliot’s phone. “got any photos of the wedding?”
elliot nodded once, and not enthusiastically enough for kyle’s liking, as he pulled up the photo folder you’d made on his phone titled ‘happily ever after 🩷’ before handing it to kyle to flip through.
the younger man whistled lowly, eyes glued to the screen as he pinched and moved the photos to zoom in. elliot noticed how he paused on the photos of you, but flicked through the others quickly, not bothering to stop quick enough to take in your bridesmaids’ dresses or the expensive tiered cake or elliot’s flash suit.
he snatched his phone back when kyle licked his lips at a photo of you dancing with your friends.
“lovely gown,” kyle said with a smirk as he watched elliot seethe. “you really got lucky, eh? punching up like that.”
elliot’s eyes squinted in a glare. “excuse me?”
“come on, mate. you can be honest, it’s why you worry about the job, right? you want to keep that going for you so she doesn’t leave you in the dust,” kyle continued to goad him.
“it’s not me that needs to worry about being left behind,” elliot spat. he rubbed his hand over his mouth and jaw to hide his burgeoning smug look, but kyle saw it in his eyes, the self-satisfaction. “i’ve got options. plenty at that.”
kyle stared at him with a blank face. “oh yeah?”
elliot laughed meanly and dropped his hand. “oh yeah.” he tapped his phone against his palm for a moment, seemingly debating something before freezing as he heard you and johnny climb the short ladder back up to the deck, laughing all the while.
“done in already?” kyle asked, his mood already lighter.
“johnny’s knee is aching, thought he could rest it and we’d get a quick drink,” you answered with a wide smile, reaching for one of the beers stored in the boats built-in cooler and handing one to johnny.
“bonnie was jus’ telling me how she used to live in a much smaller area when she was younger,” johnny said as you both sat down opposite to your partners. “but you live in london now?”
“what is it with you two? always asking bloody questions,” elliot complained, hiding his unease behind a laugh.
“just making conversation, mate,” kyle said tersely.
you felt the air grow awkward and jumped in before your husband could make it worse.
“we moved to london for elliot’s work,” you said.
“and you like it?” kyle’s inquisitive, dark eyes had you willing to be more truthful than you would usually be, especially with near strangers.
“i have to admit… i’d always thought we’d be somewhere further from the city; its what i’d always wanted and elliot said he’d liked the idea of somewhere quieter. we met in my home town after all.” you caught elliot’s scornful eye and ducked your head. “but it just didn’t go that way in the end. and london is lovely, the apartment is— lovely.”
“you ever been to scotland?” johnny asked. “the countryside is like nothin’ you’ve ever seen up there.”
kyle nodded. “we’ve lived on the edge of falkland for a few years now; feels like the middle of nowhere sometimes. doesn’t get much better, i haven’t missed the city for years.”
“one of the best decisions we ever made,” johnny agreed, leaning over to kiss gaz softly.
you sighed wistfully.
“don’t think the hills would agree with my dear wife, but maybe we’ll take a trip up there some time,” elliot said unconvincingly. you swallowed thickly at his thinly veiled dig.
“when you’re not so busy, yeah?” kyle said staring your husband down.
elliot’s lips thinned. “yeah.”
“so how’re you finding france so far?” johnny asked. “enjoying yer stay?”
elliot sniffed. “could be better. from how this one went on about the place i was expecting a hell of a lot more,” he said snidely, gesturing to you flippantly. “i’d have picked bali personally.”
your shoulders hunched even as you felt indignation and anger burn the back of your throat. it wasn’t your fault elliot wasn’t taking advantage of the holiday, the lush area and the activities that promised to be unforgettable if given the chance. you knew you’d remember going in the sea with johnny for years to come, but you doubted you’d remember the boring dinners you’d been having with elliot in a month’s time, or at least not so fondly.
“think i’d have put the trip off for longer if i knew what this place was going to be like,” elliot laughed. “in fact—“
“why don’t you shut the fuck up fer once and let yer pretty wife speak, eh?” johnny cut him off with a sarcastic smile.
elliot was shocked into silence and you found yourself stuttering as kyle and johnny focused on you.
“what do you do when you’re not on a late honeymoon, love?” kyle asked.
“uhm, i don’t actually work currently,” you admitted sheepishly, your eyes darted to your husband as he grew redder in the face. “elliot makes enough to cover us financially and finding something in london was harder than expected after i had to suddenly quit my previous job when we moved.”
kyle and johnny cooed sympathetically.
“i’ve picked up painting recently though, which has been different. not necessarily any good at it, but i like it,” you said.
“an artist? yer after my heart, hen. i sketch a little myself,” johnny said. “now ye’ll have to come visit us just so you can paint the views.”
kyle was quick to pull out his phone to share some photos. he stopped on one of johnny on the top of a steep, grassy hill; his arms thrown up the air, backpack on the ground next to him and a wide grin stretched across his face, his mohawk a little longer than it was now and a mess in the wind.
“wow, it’s gorgeous there,” you gushed, trying not to focus on johnny’s strong stance highlighted by the rising sun behind him.
“that’s the view just behind our house,” kyle grinned. “forty minute hike to get there, at most.”
you gawped. “no way.”
johnny nodded.
“think you’re maybe overestimating her painting skills there, boys,” elliot snickered as he looked at the photo. “if you saw what she’s done so far you’d realise it’s definitely just a new hobby.”
“show us,” kyle suggested kindly, not bothering to look at elliot.
you hesitated before reaching for your bag and pulling out your phone. you handed it over with a shy smile.
“oi, these are good, bonnie,” johnny said immediately, stood looking over kyle’s shoulder. his brow was pulled into a frown as he concentrated.
“i’d buy ‘em,” kyle added, looking up at you to smile.
“ha! right, yeah,” you laughed, thinking he was teasing. you put down your beer and took your phone back, dropping it into your bag. you leant in to kiss elliot’s cheek and stood. “who’s going to join me in the water? elliot?”
“i don’t think so, darling. maybe another time,” he said.
“i will.” kyle stood. “did johnny show you how to dive off the front?”
your eyes widened in excitement as you shook your head and followed him, waving at the captain sat at the helm of the small boat as you passed.
johnny watched the pair of you go before turning to glare at elliot silently, not breaking eye contact even as your husband frowned and shifted uneasily, eventually looking down at his phone to avoid johnny’s unwavering, cold gaze.
---
“i don’t like them,” elliot said once you were back in your hotel that evening.
“who? johnny and kyle?”
“who else?” elliot scoffed. “they’re too familiar with you, they— they fawn over you. flirt relentlessly, in front of me—“
“oh come on,” you laughed, unable to stop yourself even as elliot grew angrier at your casual dismissal. “they’re married, don’t be bloody daft.”
“don’t call me stupid.” elliot warned.
“i’m not, i just—“
“whether they’re actually interested in you or not isn’t the point,” elliot seethed. “they’re doing it to wind me up. to get away with humiliating me and you encourage them.”
“i— what? we were just having fun,” you said.
“oh i know, i saw how you clung to them in the water when you thought i wasn’t looking. fucking slut.”
you gaped at elliot, taken aback by his harsh words and sharp tone. you took in a deep breath and tried to level your own voice.
“they’re just friendly.” you bit your cheek. “if anything, you’re just jealous i’m getting more attention than you for once.”
“what was that?” elliot whipped around to face you and you felt your blood run cold even before he took a step towards you. he gripped you roughly by the back of your neck and tugged you forward so his lips rested at your temple and you followed limply, keeping your hands by your sides. “you better not play up tomorrow, darling. whatever they offer, we’re busy. this our honeymoon, not a fucking jolly for you to try and meet other men.”
you seethed in his hold, furious at his accusations and the irony of his ill-placed jealousy. but all the same you nodded gently. “ok, elliot.”
“good.” he kissed your round cheek with a loud, sarcastic smack before turning towards the bathroom. he shed his clothes as he walked, leaving them in a trail you knew he expected you to pick up and closed the door behind him, leaving you stood motionless in the centre of the hotel room.
---
you dodged johnny’s bright grin and kyle’s sweet invites to hang out over the last week of your holiday with a pained grimace.
after the first few mornings of suddenly stilted conversation over breakfast, they stopped joining you and elliot and you were happy they were able to continue enjoying their honeymoon even if you weren’t.
elliot didn’t say in so many words, but he didn’t trust you not to gallivant off if left alone like before, so you were stuck waiting in the admittedly lavish hotel room on the days elliot got pulled back into work over the phone and on his laptop. too important to leave until later, he’d said. but he’d promised each time to take you out for a dinner that had continued to be forgotten about.
with only a few days left you were stuck waiting by the road, the little moped you’d rented for the day parked and so far unused while elliot nipped back up to the hotel to grab his sunglasses. it’d been twenty minutes already and part of you wondered if he’d gotten lost. you wished he’d left the keys with you instead of pocketing them so you could keep yourself entertained with a quick ride around the block, get used to the feel of the bike before joining onto the main road.
a squeaky horn, two beeps in quick succession, had you flinching from your moody thoughts and looking up as kyle and johnny pulled to a stop in front of you.
“long time no see, love,” kyle said. he nodded down at the bike with a grin. “where you off to?”
“and can we join?” johnny asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.
you snorted. “nowhere. not until elliot comes back at least.” you shrugged. “he’s got the keys,” you explained.
“how about we take you for a quick ride then,” johnny offered and kyle immediately started getting off from behind him.
“no, no i couldn’t. thank you. elliot will be back any second, im sure,” you said quickly, worried elliot would grow mad if he saw you sat behind johnny on the bike.
“ok, love,” kyle placated. “how about we swap numbers then, in case we don’t get to see you before your trip is up? i want to see more of your paintings.”
“we’re off home in about two days or so, figured yours would be about the same,” johnny said.
“what about email?” you suggested instead. your couples therapist had suggested regularly reading each others texts to try and gain back trust between the pair of you. the irony that it was now you trying to hide a conversation in your phone wasn’t lost on you, but you knew elliot wouldn’t want you talking to them after this trip. “i can get pretty chatty in a text, so email might be better,” you lied flimsily.
“sure,” johnny nodded along, clearly not believing you. “whatever you’d like.”
“you can have john’s email,” kyle said with a smirk, the expression growing when the scot sighed and swatted at kyle’s thigh behind him.
you watched them with confused amusement until johnny read out his email.
“wow. that’s very myspace of you,” you laughed even as johnny rolled his eyes.
“soap’s an old nickname, you’ll probably hear me call him gaz sometimes too. old habits,” johnny explained.
“from the military?” you confirmed and they nodded.
“i say it when i want him to listen. gets him standing to attention when i call him soap,” kyle said teased.
“anything you do gets me standing to attention, handsome,” johnny said, sultry and playful.
“oh piss off,” kyle laughed as he pushed johnny’s face away, pretending to groan in disgust when johnny caught his wrist and messily kissed his palm. you felt your stomach clench at the brief sight of his tongue poking between kyle’s fingers, lapping at the webbing before he let him go.
his tongue there and gone again in a second. you’d almost think you’d imagined it if you didn’t see the spit glisten in the sun before kyle wiped it on his shorts.
you blinked to clear your head and turned away even as the thought of johnny’s mouth around kyle’s fingers replayed over and over in your head.
turning away meant you caught sight of elliot making his way back. it had your thoughts sobering and you looked back to the couple with an apologetic smile. “i’ll see you guys later hopefully, but if not i hope you enjoy the rest of your honeymoon guys.”
“ye trying to get rid o’ us?” johnny pouted, mischief clear in his eyes.
“no, but I know elliot will want to set off straight away so—“
“we know when we’re not wanted, love,” kyle sighed, winking at you to soften the words and let you know they weren’t offended, just pulling your pigtails. “take a hint, johnny, let’s go check out the beach.”
“aye aye, sir,” johnny saluted lazily before revving the moped back to life and waving at you over his shoulder.
“ready to go?” you jumped slightly at elliot’s voice behind you, you hadn’t realised he was so close already and when you turned around you could see he was tense.
“ready when you are,” you said and moved out of the way of the bike.
elliot didn’t mention johnny or kyle and you were thankful; the day had barely begun, you didn’t need an argument to ruin it already.
you swung your leg over the bike behind him and cuddled close, smiling when elliot rubbed a warm palm over your bare knee next to his thigh. today could be good if you just let it, you reminded yourself as elliot set off clumsily.
you lifted your head from his back once he’d managed to get the hang of controlling the moped a little better, becoming confident on the roads after a few minutes, but you wished you hadn’t.
his collar was rustling in the wind and had slipped loose around his shoulder, revealing a smudged lipstick mark previously hidden by his button up overshirt. you felt your breath hitch, unable to look away even as your eyes started to burn.
your gut clenched and rolled unpleasantly, like you could throw up any moment but your jaw was firmly clenched closed. your hands shook where they were holding elliot at the waist and you finally clenched your eyes closed.
with trembling lips, you held back a sob.
today could be good if you let it, you repeated. so let it.
---
you didn’t see kyle or johnny before you left and you didn’t mention what you saw to elliot either.
instead you went back to london, to the dreary rain and the empty flat and the weekly couples’ appointments.
you lied when your therapist asked how your honeymoon went. you grinned and turned to elliot with wide sparkling eyes and reach for his hand to hold between yours as you simpered, “simply perfect.”
but it wasn’t and elliot new it.
the breaking point was when johnny sent your throw-away email account a message one afternoon with a photo attached at the bottom. you grinned when it loaded on your laptop and you zoomed in to see your smiling face, then kyle’s, then johnnys.
it had been taken on the boat on your way back to the dock after a long day swimming and drinking and laughing. elliot had kept to himself for most of the trip unless spoken to, but after an hour you’d managed to ignore him well enough. it wasn’t until kyle pulled him up on your way back, slapped his phone into elliot’s hand and asked him to take a photo of the three of you with the water and island in the background that you remembered he was there.
“elliot, be a good lad and take the photo for us won’t ya?”
“why not ask the captain—“
“he’s done enough dealing with us fer the day, aye? oh— wait, did ye want tae be in it with us?”
“no. thank you.”
they’d thrown their arms around you, pushing and pulling you to their liking until you were stood by the edge of the boat, and smiled. your shoulders were sensitive where johnny’s arm laid over the top - sunburnt you thought at the time - and your hair was still wet from your last dip, but your smile was wide and glowing even as elliot had gritted his teeth.
despite his grumbles he’d done as asked and you’d been dying to see the photo ever since when johnny cooed, “aw, lovely photo to remember ya by.”
now you felt your cheeks heat as you saw how your swim shorts had rucked up high on your thighs, damp and clinging, showing off more skin than you’d realised. your swimsuit at least covered your stomach and cleavage well enough, though johnny’s hand on your shoulder held one of the thick strings of your suit where it had tied at the back of your neck. he was in the middle of playing with it, tugging it so it was taut but not enough to loosen the bow. you don’t remember feeling him pull at the string holding your suit up over your breasts, though you were distracted by the tight hold gaz had on your waist, the handful he’d grabbed as he knocked your hips together.
god no wonder elliot had gotten mad that evening. if you hadn’t known the two were married, you’d have assumed they were trying to get between your legs by this photo alone.
you read the message johnny had sent along with it.
missin you and yer sweet laugh, bonnie!
forgot to send the photo earlier, i think the three of us look well fit, we’ll have to go swimming gain sometime. gaz suggested leucate plage if yer still in love wih france, but im sure there’s a few different au naturel beaches we could try ;)
you sputtered a laugh at that, scoffing at the idea of going to a nude beach especially with those two. bloody hell, elliot would have a fit, you thought gleefully.
but for now we thought you could come visit us like we’d said before? the countryside could be good for you and the ol’ ball n chain. we’d be happy t have ye both for the week, we’ve got the room. just let us know, yeah?
yer handsome pal,
johnny
you shook your head at his theatrics. emailing johnny felt like having a slightly unhinged penpal and reading his emails never failed to brighten up your day, you could hear him in the way he typed. you also loved when you assumed gaz would steal the phone to use his account to talk to you, the lack of scots and shorthand was always a dead giveaway between the two.
you bit your lip and found some of the photos he’d sent previously of their home and garden. it was gorgeous simply put and although the anxiety of admitting to elliot that you’d kept in contact with them had your palms sweating, the deep urge to go visit them ultimately won out.
you bit the bullet over dinner that same night. steak, specially made to soften elliot’s mood.
not that it helped much.
“what?” he dropped his cutlery and pushed back from his seat, needing distance from you as he processed you’d been lying to him. “why would you do that?”
you didn’t have an answer. or not one that elliot would like, so you felt yourself begin to shrug before you thought back to your last session.
“our therapist said it could be good for the relationship if i made some friends separate to yours,” you said.
“she also said you needed to focus trying more with my friends,” elliot reminded.
“but your friends aren’t offering to stay with us for a week in the highlands, elliot. if they were then i’d be all for it!”
“so if i tell my friends that we’ll spend christmas at the ski lodge with them this year, you won’t whine about wanting to be at home together, this time,” he challenged.
you swallowed. he knew you hated skiing and his bitchy judgmental rich friends. it wasn’t even as though it was his easy going friends that liked to go, it was the worst of the bunch that purposely left you out or talked down to you, made it impossible to try without embarrassing yourself.
but fine. you could deal with that this year if it meant your friendship with kyle and johnny was allowed to grow.
“sure,” you said with an obviously fake casual shrug. “so we can go?”
elliot huffed. you sprung out your next argument.
“our therapist also said it was important to let me take the lead a few times. in order to let me regai—“
“regain some power in the relationship, yeah, i know. i was there.” elliot nodded. he seemed to think it over. “this will help you trust me again?”
you reached across the table and held his hand, smiling at him hopefully when he looked back at you. you tried not to think of the lipstick stain in france, tried not to let the hurt cloud you eyes. “yes.” you stood and walked to stand by his chair, chest warming when he wrapped an arm around your waist. “the honeymoon felt forced,” you admitted, making sure to keep eye contact even as he stiffened. “we both felt it, you can admit it, i’m not mad. but this would be new and an adventure. like old times, elliot.”
he nodded a little less resignedly. “sure, old times. ok.”
you smiled, dipped down to kiss him deeply, rubbing his clean shaven cheek with your thumb.
“thank you. this will be fun, i promise. we’ll get to relax and just spend some time together, yeah? no pressure of what we should be doing as a couple or at work or— or—“
elliot softened as he looked at you stutter to find another reason. “yes, darling. it’ll be good.”
you stepped out of his grasp.
“i’ll let them know we can go, what date do you think would be best?”
---
“fucking hell, you had one job. look out for the stupid carved owl in the tree and that’s when we know to turn left,” elliot seethed as he drove, the sun growing dimmer by the minute. you’d spent the entire day driving up north using the directions, had set off that saturday morning in hopes that the traffic wouldn’t be as busy as midweek. “so where are we now? you insisted on following their directions instead of using the satnav, so where the hell does it mention this endless fucking shitty, unpaved road? eh?”
you hunched down in your seat next to him and reread the instructions from soap, hoping to find a clue as to where you were on the, admittedly adorable yet detailed, map he’d drawn. you’d found it endearing when you’d first saw it but now you were thinking it was more of a necessity.
elliot snatched your phone from your hand and split his focus between the dark road and your phone, scrolling erratically to find the directions in the email he wanted. your hand hovered between you, eager to take your phone back but hesitant to foul his mood further.
your eyes caught on movement on the road and you quickly gripped the wheel to swerve and avoid hitting a deer that had wandered out from the trees. “fuck, elliot, watch out!”
he slammed on the breaks and dropped your phone into your footwell as he automatically gripped the wheel to take over from you.
you both sat still, panting; anxiety and adrenaline pumping through your body as you tried to tell it and brain that you were fine, it could calm down, you were ok. you rubbed at your shoulder where your seatbelt had dug in.
elliot started up the car again, silent, and went slower down the road until the headlights caught on a misshapen tree. you squinted before pointing it out. “here, look. i think that’s the owl, go left.”
it only took a few minutes before you could see the lights from kyle and johnny’s farmhouse. the shape of their barn and surrounding smaller outbuildings stark against the natural curves of the hills and trees they were settled amongst.
“we’re here,” you said excitedly. “they said to pull around the side of the barn to the garage they have at the side. their house should be riiight there.” you grinned as you parked directly in front of it on the gravel next to their truck.
“great,” elliot said sarcastically. you didn’t mention his tone knowing that having to drive all day, several hours longer than you’d both expected, would have rankled anyone’s mood.
you climbed out without a word and got your bags out of the back of the car. when you rounded back to the front you found johnny and kyle walking to meet you already, their front door left open behind them.
“bonnie! ye made it,” johnny said as he jogged over to you excitedly. you let go of your suitcase as he pulled you into a hug as soon as you were close enough, scuffing his stubble against your neck in his excitement.
“down, boy,” kyle laughed, nudging johnny out of the way to give you his own hug. once he pulled back he nodded to elliot and smirked. “thought you’d maybe gotten lost, we were ready to start a search party.”
elliot bristled but johnny spoke up before he could defend himself.
“aye, but tea is still warm and ready to be served, an’ ahm fucking starving so let’s get inside yeah?” johnny slapped elliot’s shoulder before leading you all to the house. “done a big roasty fer the pair a’ye, so i hope yer hungry.”
the heat encompassed you as soon as you stepped inside, led through to the kitchen-stroke-dining room. the food smelled divine and the warmth accumulated from the oven and the fireplace had your shoulders relaxing instantly.
the house was far from modern with its mismatched old wooden chairs around the handmade table and the well-loved couch you could spot through in the next room, nothing like your lifeless flat in london. but the farmhouse was still stylish in its own way, in the colour of the cabinets, the throw on couch, the wallpaper leading up the stairs. though more importantly, it was homely. lived in.
“i can imagine the drive wasnae easy for first timers, so sit yerselves down and i’ll plate the food, gaz’ll get the wine,” johnny said.
you pulled out the chair next to elliot, leaving the two opposite you empty.
johnny clapped his hands as if to say voilà when he put down your heaped plates a minute later.
“this looks amazing, johnny, you cooked this?” you asked, eyes round and barely stopping yourself from digging in to be polite.
“have a great sous chef,” he said and patted kyle’s arse when he passed by with the wine. kyle smirked.
“how did you find the drive up, seriously?” kyle asked as he poured your drinks. he took a seat with johnny and gestured for you to start eating; now with permission, you didn’t hesitate.
“it was fine. might’ve been easier if we were given an address instead, satnav might’ve made it quicker,” elliot said as he pushed around some of the steamed vegetables on his plate.
“the views made taking our time worth it though, the valleys we passed were gorgeous,” you gushed. “i didn’t realise there were so many small lakes too.”
elliot sniffed irritably, but you didn’t notice. in fact you’d barely noticed how he played with his food more than ate it as you were too busy chatting and eating. you were going crazy for the hearty roast dinner, you could see in the colour and in the bursting taste of the veg just how fresh it all was; nothing like the store bought stuff you usually got at home.
you hadn’t had anything home cooked in so long that you hadn’t made yourself, and when you told kyle and johnny so they both reared back as though slapped.
“oh love, you’re missing out, that’s not right. don’t worry we’ll take care of you while you’re here,” kyle promised.
elliot cleared his throat. “got any salt?”
johnny’s eyes flickered tersely from elliot to the roast beef he was poking on his plate and back up again. “sure. let me just grab it for ye.”
“cheers,” elliot smiled thinly.
“top up?” kyle asked and gestured to your wine glass. you nodded before turning to elliot, but he wasn’t looking your way so you held your glass out.
“thanks. god, after this and the long drive i think i’ll be ready for bed; sorry excuse for company on the first night,” you apologised.
“we’re just happy to have you here,” kyle assured you as johnny sat back down. your husband doused his food in salt before making a better dent in it, downing his wine quickly afterwards with a wince.
“yeah, i think it’ll be an early one for us tonight, won’t it, darling?” elliot said and started to stand, rudely pushing his unfinished plate away. “in fact, i think i’m pretty tired now.”
you looked down at the last few bites of your meal and the full glass of wine forlornly but stood alongside elliot.
“it really was a fantastic meal, thank you so much, johnny,” you said.
“anytime for you, hen,” he said. “here, let us show you to your room.”
“i’ll grab the dishes while you take them up, johnny. you cooked so i’ll clean,” kyle said, hooking a finger in johnny’s jeans to catch his attention when he stood up. you felt a sharp pang at their easy domesticity. sure they’d said they’d known each other, been together, for a decade, but it still ached that you and elliot where struggling so obviously in comparison despite your sixth anniversary nearing on the horizon.
you gave kyle a fragile smile as you followed johnny upstairs with your bags to your room for the week.
“i’ll leave you to it, see ye in the morning,” johnny said as you settled into your room.
“this is amazing,” you said with a small laugh, disbelief and joy mixing into something like hope as you started to get undressed. the view out of your bedroom looked over the front garden and you felt giddy at the idea of staying with your new friends for the next few days and exploring the area further.
“it’s… quaint,” elliot said.
you turned to him, your mouth pulled tight. “please don’t start.”
“what? it’s just… smaller than what we’re used to,” he said with a shrug, starting to laugh as he gestured at the room. “i mean look at this place, and the bed.”
“keep your voice down at least, elliot,” you hissed, eyes sharp on the closed door of your bedroom.
“darling, you know i get overheated easily, and by the looks of it we’re going to be pressed side by side all night. and i doubt they have a/c,” elliot huffed. he sat down on the bed and rolled his eyes when it squeaked. “oh, come on.”
“we could open the window,” you said stubbornly, ignoring elliot as he shifted to make the bed squeak again.
“and let in the smell of sheep shit? not your brightest idea,” he scoffed. “christ and never mind the bloody noise on top of that. good thing i brought my ear plugs or i’d never get any sleep.”
you bit your tongue when you thought of the constant traffic noises that flooded into your apartment at all times of the day and night, the light pollution that did its best to creep past your blackout curtains.
“i’m sure you’ll get used to it after the first couple of nights,” you said instead and moved to join him in bed. you reached for his hand and squeezed it, leaning in for a kiss, teasing your tongue at his lips for a split second before pulling back. “just… please be nice?”
he sighed.
“fine,” he conceded. “i was just expecting something a little nicer considering the price of the trip we met them on.”
you scowled at him and let go of his hand. “you’re being rude.”
you leant over to turn off your lamp and laid down facing away from him. neither of you noticed the shadows shift under your door, the light footsteps heading away from your room.
---
you woke up the next morning to find elliot already in the shower, you could hear the pipes from the bathroom next door and noticed his suitcase had been half unpacked.
you were grateful he’d let you sleep, you’d gone to bed frustrated and you didn’t want to carry it on this morning. it was a new day and you were eager to have fun.
you walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. as you gazed out your eyes naturally drifted to johnny, stood near the barn you’d passed on your way in. he was small given the distance but you couldn’t help but stare as he rhythmically chopped logs into smaller, more manageable pieces.
he was sweating, the repetitive action of driving the axe up and then through the thick wood obviously tiring, and you felt water pool in your mouth as you looked on gormlessly.
the sleeves of his thick checked shirt were rolled up his forearms and part of you wished he’d decided to chop the wood in the driveway so you’d have a clearer view of his muscles at work. he wiped his face on his bicep and suddenly turned to the house, to your window.
you ducked away before he could catch you and started to get dressed out of the line of sight the windows may provide. with your face aflame and anxious butterflies rampant in your stomach, you needed to get your head on straight and decidedly not ogle your new friends.
with one last stern word to yourself you headed downstairs back to the kitchen and found gaz pottering around.
“ah morning, love. coffee?” he offered, holding out a cup. you took it gratefully with a small thank you and sat at the table again. there was a plate of toast in the middle, enough slices freshly made made for the four of you, and you reached forward for one. “i was thinking me and soap could show you a hiking trail nearby, make a day of it.”
“the one you showed me on your phone?” you asked, nodding enthusiastically regardless of his answer.
“this one’s even better,” gaz said, smiling fondly. “just might take longer.”
“coffee? thank you, darling,” elliot mumbled as he swiped your coffee from your hands without asking and distracting you from answering gaz. you’d barely had a sip before elliot was finishing the drink off in one go. “mm, bit too milky for my liking,” he told you and sucked his teeth.
“probably because it wasn’t for you,” kyle said flatly. “we’re going on a hike today, care to join or has work called you in already?”
“i’d love a hike,” elliot said brightly. johnny walked in through the front door as elliot continued to talk about the hikes he’d been on before, heading to the sink to wash his hands and leaning up to kiss kyle as he passed. “work can wait for the great outdoors. my wife here knows how much i love going on— on uh, on hikes and finding new trails and mapping them out.” elliot stumbled over his words for a second, taken back by the kiss.
johnny’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh and he turned and winked at you as he opened up a cupboard door that hid his face from your husband.
“oh, so you two go together?” kyle asked.
“no, no,” elliot laughed like the thought was ridiculous. “i go with my mates. not really her thing.”
you pursed your lips; you hated it when elliot answered for you, especially when he was wrong. which was often. instead of fussing though, you focused your ire on another slice of toast from the centre of the table.
“right.” kyle stood from his chair and went to lean next to johnny on one of the kitchen counters. “we’ll pack a bag full of snacks and drinks and then we can be off. give us fifteen minutes?”
you nodded, thankful for the excuse to leave elliot at the table, and went to grab your walking boots before coming back to wait with elliot near the door.
“quicker to get there from the back,” johnny said and led you through the rest of the downstairs out into the back garden.
it looked like it could spread for acres if not for the looming trees of the forest fencing it in.
to the left was their chicken coop and a small locked shed. if you turned around you’d see your cars parked, the garage and then the barn further up.
the chicken coop was on solid muddy ground, closer to the gravel front, whereas the shed was further up on the flat grassy area that began to rise into a small hill further back and closer to the trees; there was a small iron table sat with four chairs closer to the house and you couldn’t wait to use it, imagining sitting out there for lunch or breakfast.
to your right you took in their allotment, the large raised beds full of blooming vegetables; tall beans climbing the trellis arches from one side to another. you saw noticed the glint of a greenhouse hidden behind it all. everything was encouraged to grow to its fullest and you bet the food they’d served the night before had been grown by their very own hands.
“we’ve got strawberries if ye’d like tae pick some over the next few days,” johnny said as he walked you down to the end of the garden, catching the way your eyes were glued to the allotment.
“i’d love that, i haven’t been strawberry picking since i was little,” you said.
johnny nodded. “settled then.”
---
the hike wasn’t difficult, but living down south in a very flat city hadn’t built up your cardio for the steep hills and climbs at all.
“this is a good place to stop for lunch,” johnny said, apropos to nothing.
he squeezed your arm as he wandered off the path towards the edge of the hill. you were halfway there to the top, but already you were loving the views.
“knee bothering you, johnny?” kyle asked as he pulled out a rainproof sheet from his bag and started placing the food out in the tupperware boxes.
“something like that,” he said.
you laughed when you saw johnny pull out a bottle of wine from his.
“just tryin’ tae make use of all the wine we bought on holiday, hen,” he snickered.
you sat down and helped them spread the food out while your husband paced from the ledge to the path and then to the blanket, only to start again.
“have a seat elliot,” you said encouragingly, patting the space you’d left purposely empty next to you.
he slumped down with a huff and kyle side-eyed him.
“how was your night? sleep well?”
“hope the room wasnae too small,” johnny added, biting into a cheese cracker as he looked to your husband.
you felt your stomach drop and your face heat up. “no, not at all—“
“i think i’m just used to the finer things,” elliot said, picking up one of the packed travel cups pointedly and pouring himself some wine.
“we slept fine,” you said firmly as you frowned at elliot. “it’s perfect.”
“ah, we’re just joking around, hen, no need to fash,” johnny teased. “you pack yer paints?”
“shit.” your face dropped as you looked at him. “i completely forgot when i was packing, i was too excited.”
johnny grinned. “you can borrow mine, it’s alright.”
“if they’re not dried up that is,” kyle said with a laugh. “i’ve not seen you touch paints in years, johnny.”
“they’re water paints, gaz, they’re meant tae be dry,” johnny said with a roll of his eyes. he looked to you and covered the side of his mouth. “yer a breath o’fresh air, ye have no idea. i love him but he doesnae have the eye fer it, you know?”
“im right bloody here,” kyle said exasperatedly, making you laugh.
“fucking hell,” your husband muttered under his breath before standing. “i think i’m gonna go ahead and have a look at the trail, get a lay of the land. i’ll turn around in ten and meet you back here.”
“are you sure?” you asked at the same time johnny warned him, “don’t go off the path.”
“why not?” elliot asked, taking it as a challenge despite johnny’s grave tone.
“go straight so you don’t get lost,” johnny repeated seriously. “it’s a tricky place, these woods. one wrong turn and you’ll ne’er be found.”
elliot stayed silent for a moment, left off kilter by johnny’s intense eyes, before laughing, waving him of with a scoff. “sure thing, johnny.”
you watch your husband walk off with an uneasy feeling before kyle and johnny’s easy going nature distracted you once more.
before you knew it it’d been twenty minutes, but you were too busy talking about how they’d ended up moving out so far away from their original shared home, that you hadn’t noticed elliot wasn’t back yet.
“it’s great here, but it can feel… lonely sometimes, just the two of us,” johnny admitted as he looked to kyle. the handsome man nodded and knocked their knees together.
“i know how that feels,” you said, three cups of wine having loosened your lips.
“yeah?” kyle asked softly, tilting his head to meet your downcast eyes.
you opened and closed your mouth a few times before taking a deep breath.
“i want a baby,” you said weakly, sadly. you were quiet as though hoping not to be overheard. “elliot doesn’t think it’s the right time, but im starting to doubt it’d ever be the right time if it were up to him.”
you blink at the anger that had seeped into your last words and gasped as you realised that you’d actually finally said them out loud. not even your therapist had gotten you to admit this.
“oh god, please forget i said that,” you begged them suddenly, wide eyed and pleading. “please. don’t say anything to elliot about it. i— i think i’ve just drank a little too much,” you tried to excuse yourself.
“hey, it’s ok,” johnny said with a concerned frown.
“i didn’t mean it,” you rushed out.
kyle moved to elliot’s previous spot and pulled you in for a warm hug, calming you down.
“it’s normal to want things and to be disappointed when the person that promised you them can’t deliver,” he whispered. you sniffled and slowly wrapped your arms back around him with a nod, tears building behind yojr closed eyelids. you slumped into his hold further when johnny’s large hand rubbed soothingly across your back below kyle’s arms.
it was nice. simply being between them and being comforted by them was nice.
you leaned back and wiped at your eyes with a sniffly laugh.
“thank you, guys, i— thank you.”
gaz squeezed your shoulder for a moment before finally letting you go.
you felt fidgety, needing to do something with your hands and to keep them from staring at your red rimmed eyed, so you reached for a handful of grapes when it suddenly occurred to you that elliot wasn’t back. you looked at your watch and swore.
“elliot’s not here yet, shit what if he’s lost?”
“he won’t be,” johnny reassured you, standing alongside you and grabbing your shoulders. “he’s an experienced hiker, right? he probably lost track a’time like we did.”
“let’s get this packed away and we’ll go catch up to him,” kyle suggested. you nodded, easily calmed once given easy orders to occupy your busy mind
---
“elliot?” you called out as you walked, johnny and kyle on either side of you, looking out into the trees in case he’d gone off track. “you there? elliot?”
“stop shouting, christ, i’m here,” elliot complained further up the trail. he was slouched against a tree. “took you all long enough.”
“oh my god, what happened,” you said as you crouched next to him, looking at the sorry swollen state of his ankle.
“twisted it looks like, worst-case it could be a sprain,” kyle said from over your shoulder. “should be fine, we can get home with him leaning on our shoulders, right, soap?”
johnny tutted in disappointment as he stared down the path instead of at your injured husband.
“the waterfall was only five minutes away as well,” johnny said to no one in particular. he crouched next to elliot. “c’mon then, let’s get you back.”
your husband bristled. he looked longingly down the trail johnny had gestured to just a moment before.
“we should still go, i’ll be fine,” he insisted. “we should go to the waterfall.”
gaz raised his eyebrows incredulously as he helped elliot stand, but he stayed silent.
“you want to lean on me or johnny?” he asked.
“whoever gets us there quicker,” elliot said, face pinched.
kyle rolled his eyes and set off walking, leaving elliot to wince until he matched kyle’s stride. luckily the walk wasn’t long before the four of you cut off the trail and found yourselves stood at the bottom of the waterfall, a light mist of water splashing at your bare skin from where you stood.
“holy shit.”
johnny nudged your shoulders together with a laugh.
“impressive, right?”
“to say the least,” you huffed.
kyle had helped elliot sit down by the edge of the plunge pool with his leg stretched out as you’d taken in the view with johnny, though you soon took a seat next to elliot when you noticed he was situated as comfortable as could be. you pulled off your shoes and socks and shuffled forwards a little to dip your feet in the water, kicking lightly and grinning even with how the cold bit at your toes.
elliot stayed stern faced even as he looked at the impressive feature, but kyle and johnny took no notice.
they started to undress, throwing their clothes down haphazardly by their bags.
“you coming in?” kyle asked you cheekily.
“we go in every time we’re here, tradition now,” johnny explained once he was stood in his underwear.
“i don’t have my swimsuit,” you said hesitantly.
“jus’ go in yer kegs like us,” johnny dismissed the worry.
“it’s probably for the best she’s said no,” elliot said meanly, one eyebrow raised as he looked over your relaxed form, your stomach rolls obvious and plush under the afternoon sun and your thighs spread thick where they pressed against the edge of the natural pool. you suddenly felt the need to layer up in your baggiest clothes. “she’s happy enough sat with me. isn’t that right, darling?”
you felt embarrassment, hot and sharp, flood from your face to your toes as you stared at him. this was your husband. a man that took delight in belittling you.
“oi,” johnny warned from where he stood waist deep in the water.
you ignored them both and stood suddenly, shucking off your clothes with tight angry movements, a smile only eventually pulling at your lips when kyle wolf whistled playfully.
johnny joined in jeering and clapped as you stepped carefully closer to the edge before jumping in. once you resurfaced, you resolutely faced away from the scowl you knew would be on your husband’s face. you were past caring.
the cold of the water had you sucking in thinner breaths until you acclimatised, and you were grateful it was deep enough to brush your collarbones as you could tell your nipples were babbling from the chill.
“be careful, love, there are fish in here,” gaz said as he drifted closer to your front. his smile was bordering on mischievous but it eased your slight reservations of being in the water. “but don’t worry they don’t bite.”
you felt a sudden pinch on your buttcheek and you squealed before johnny’s laugh and warm chest at your back registered. you flushed hot and dug your elbow back into his ribs as they laughed, both barely giving you space to float alone.
they guided you closer to the waterfall with easy going smiles and it wasn’t until you felt their capable hands on your hips and tummy to keep you from being dragged under as you held your hands under the heavy pour that you looked back guiltily at your husband. you pushed off and away from them but continued to swim a little while longer until elliot kicked up a fuss, bored.
“are we done now? it’s getting dark, we should be heading back,” he spoke up when it looked like the three of you weren’t tiring any time soon. “and then there’s dinner to think of.”
“you offering to cook, elliot?” kyle said as he climbed out of the water.
elliot scoffed. “not likely. with the ankle and all,” he said patronisingly.
gaz smiled thinly. “of course.”
the three of you dried off as best you could before dressing and heading back to the farmhouse with elliot leant between johnny and kyle.
even as your clothes chafed against your damp skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret swimming. thought the cold was biting even through your coat, and a warm shower was calling for you back at the farmhouse.
---
once you were back you showered quickly and then ran a bath for elliot. you helped ease him in so he didn’t slip and further injure himself.
“put on a real fucking show today,” he grumbled once he was laid back. you cupped the water over his hair carefully.
“what do you mean?” you grabbed the shampoo and began lathering it.
“don’t play dumb,” he hissed. “acting like that, like a whore, with them. again.”
“i wasn’t—“
“you’re a fucking hypocrite,” he said harshly. “punishing me for one little mistake but now you get to act like this with other men?”
you let your hands hang over the edge of the tub in shock. “you cheated on me. more than once, elliot. that’s not a little mistake.”
“we’re past this,” he said tiredly with a shake of his head, rubbing his hand over his forehead to wipe away the dripping shampoo.
“then why did you bring it up?”
he turned to look at you, disgust clear on his face.
“you’re ugly when you get like this,” he said simply. “leave me to it, i’ll call you in when i need a hand getting out.”
your lip trembled as you stood and went back to your room. as you closed the door behind you, you heard elliot mutter to himself, “he’s an absolute idiot thinking this was only a twisted ankle, clearly not a doctor. the swelling has hardly gone down.”
you didn’t react, heading to the room next door with watery eyes. as you were tidying up your clothes, sniffling back angry and hurt tears, there was a knock on the doorframe. your turned to see johnny with a plate in his hand.
“thought i’d make things easier and bring his tea up fer him,” he said and put it on the bedside table. “do you want me to bring up yours too or will you be joining us?”
“oh, i’m not hungry, thank you johnny,” you said with a watery smile. the food looked delicious but elliot’s words had soured your appetite. “i think i’m just going to go to bed as soon as elliot’s alright.”
“ye sure?”
“mhm.” you nodded.
johnny nodded, said a soft, “let me know if ye change your mind.” he pulled out a pack of pain tablets from his pocket with a little wave and dropped them on the bed and then left.
you waited for elliot’s shout before you went to help him out of the bath and back through to your room. you left him to dry and dress himself and once he was sat on the bed with his food, you turned your back to him and willed yourself to fall asleep quickly.
part two
want to email johnny? click here!
#it’s here!! and posted correctly hopefully!!#face claim for elliot of oliver jackson cohen bc he’s hot but he plays an arshole really well#i’ve had a lot of fun writing this over the last month#took me forever but it turned out a hell of a lot longer than i’d anticipated too#hoping the email idea doesn’t flop and goes well!!#thank u kai for helping me with my ocs and thank you birdy for helping me pic the fic title!!#ily guys :’)#full disclosure idk if the area i chose is all that solitary Imao i've never been to scotland never mind falkland or the reservoir#i just looked at google maps lol#soapgaz x reader#soapgaz#soap x reader x gaz#johnny soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#cw noncon#tw noncon#cw abusive relationship#tw abusive relationship#let me know if more tags are wanted or needed#fat reader#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#johnny soap mactavish x reader x kyle gaz garrick#johnny mactavish x reader x kyle garrick#soap x reader#gaz x reader
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Personally, I hope Eddie gets a whole Eddie Begins Again episode that starts with him in confession/at the church talking to The Hot Priest™ about his childhood and we get a flashback to little preteen Eddie and his best friend and Eddie clearly has a crush but doesn't understand it.
Back in present day we see Eddie talking with the team about crushes because Denny has one and Hen talks about her first crush being on her best friend in middle school. Bobby's was on a girl from camp. Chim's was on a celebrity. Buck's was on his kindergarten teacher. Eddie hesitates and says his was on his best friend too and everyone looks at him sympathetically because Eddie has said Shannon was his best friend before.
Then we get a flashback of him meeting Shannon and being smitten with her, but we also see him and Best Friend having a sleepover and we see Eddie's face get a little pinched (you know the look) when best friend talks about his crush on a girl and then Eddie puts on that mask we see him wear all the time and starts talking about Shannon because he is infatuated with her and it's easier to focus on that than on how he feels for Best Friend.
Then we get more talk with the priest and maybe with Bobby and maybe even a call with Chris where Chris asks who best friend was because he found Eddie's old yearbook and they looked really close in the baseball team candid pictures.
We get a flashback to Eddie at Church and the priest talking about how gay people go to hell because it's a sin. Then after church in the basement eating donuts Eddie overhears his mom and another mom talking about how sad it is that Donna Lopez's son is a queer.
Another call, this one at an engagement party for two women. Eddie is again extremely competent and Buck slaps him on the shoulder with a laugh and says something about Eddie not having to worry about being hit on at a lesbian engagement party.
Eddie flashes back again this time to enlisting and telling best friend before he tells Shannon. Then we get a moment where Eddie is really close with a few guys in the Army. Then we get him and Shannon fighting between tours and Eddie going to best friends house to find that he's there with his new fiance and Eddie laughs and says he's there to congratulate them. He cries in the car outside his house and it's clear he doesn't understand why he's so upset - is it that he's overwhelmed with life? Is it that he and Shannon are fighting? Is it that he feels like a failure? Is it because best friend is engaged? Is it all of it?
We get a call at a gay wedding them (because it's all very on the nose) and Eddie is competent as always. He gets a guys number and then we flash back to Eddie's first time out in L.A. where a guy hit on him and Eddie turned him down by saying he was married.
Back in present day he and Buck are drinking beers at Buck's loft and Eddie has the same soft look he always has when he looks at Buck, but then we see him tense for a moment like he's realized something. When he leaves he goes back to the church and finally tells Hot Priest™ the thing that Eddie buried so deep that it took decades to uncover - He thinks God hates him and bad things happen to him because he's had thoughts about men. He's loved men. He loved Shannon, he always will love Shannon, but she's the only woman he ever loved, but he's loved more than one man.
Hot Priest (who is still catholic) says that God doesn't hate anyone and God doesn't punish people for thoughts and that having those thoughts isn't a sin, but acting on them would be.
Eddie shuts down for a second and then we see a flashback to Eddie meeting Karen and wine nights with Hen and Karen. We see him bitching at Josh but fondly. We see Buck Buck Buck everywhere, bathed in golden light. Eddie stands up and thanks the priest, but says he doesn't think he'll be back.
As he walks out of the church it's Eddie's turn to be bathed in golden light of the setting sun. His phone rings and it's Chris telling him he wants to come home. Eddie smiles and the episode ends with him shaving off the moustache and booking a flight to Texas. He's got a kid to reunite with and then he's got some stuff to talk to Buck and Bobby and Hen and maybe even Chim about.
#eddie diaz#911#911 abc#911 on abc#buddie#911 spec#not really spec I know they'd never do an episode like this#but#I like the idea of it#maybe I'll write a fic about it
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imagine being a shy little intern at jujutsu high and getting the fattest crush on gojo because he’s just. so strong and cool. you idolize him. you want to be his friend. and he seems to take a liking to you; he’s cheery and encouraging and sweet in a roundabout way. you feel like you’ve grown pretty close to him.
imagine him falling asleep right next to you on a sofa in the cafeteria. you can barely tell, with his blindfold still on. but you scurry away to find a blanket, happy that he trusts you enough to rest in your proximity, ready to wrap it around him —
only for it to slip right off. rejected by his infinity.
(he never turns it off, around you.)
#throws up blood#thinking about how gojo���s infinity is both a very real power and a metaphor for the barrier between him and the world#he’s sooo guarded and it breaks my heart#this is kind of part of a drabble im planning on writing for him……#i like the idea of him with a reader who idolizes him. while he never quite views them as important#not at all in a mean way . you just don’t have a chance of breaking into his heart.#he might act friendly but he’ll never let you in#…. he’s so stray cat coded#ari noises ✩#gojo x reader#anyway don’t mind me posting this rq i’ll post a full gojo fic tmrw this has just been rotting in my drafts for a bit 😭
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“I’d pick you up at the airport.”
“What?”
“If we were normal. I would — have one of those signs, you know. When you came back from your adventures.”
“Oh.” Nico snorts. “I’m still fucking off all the time when we’re normal? And you’re not coming?”
“It is woven within your very soul to fuck off as you please,” says Will sagely. “You get antsy. You know, like a house cat.”
He laughs when Nico shoves him. Less when he loses his balance and rolls into a tree, but he crawls back, anyway, kicking Nico’s ankle as he lies back next to him, folding his hands over his ribs. Nico watches him for a moment, tracing the round edges of his knuckles, until Will’s smile begins to twitch with him knowing, and he looks hastily back to the sky. It’s embarrassing, Will’s snorting huff of amusement, but more than that it’s electrifying, zapping a trail down Nico’s spine and making him shiver.
He can feel the heat Will is always throwing off, blazing every centimetre from his shoulder to his heels, a hair’s breadth away, a millimetre of distance.
“What else would it look like?” He clears his throat. “Our, um. Our normal?”
Will hums. “New York, probably. Big-ass penthouse with your trust fund.”
“I’m a trust fund baby?!”
“Hey, Nico, how much does dish soap cost?”
Nico opens his mouth, and closes it again. Will’s snickers get louder. Is it considered bad etiquette to banish one’s significant annoyance to the Underworld? Only permanently, probably. If he only keeps him there for a couple weeks it should be find. A couple weeks would be appropriately humbling.
“And what do you contribute?” Nico asks, instead of answering. (Not because he doesn’t know. Obviously. Because he is dignified, that’s why.) “Your dimples and boyish charm?”
“Yes, obviously.”
Well.
“…Okay, fair.”
Will snickers triumphantly.
“You still a doctor?”
“Mhm.” Will shifts, mouth curled in amusement. “Paediatric in Mount Sinai. We live close, by the way. You said it’s cause it’s close to Central Park but really you like to hide my lunch in the mornings to have an excuse to come see me.”
“Sounds like you forget your shit a lot, actually.”
“That, too.”
He looks over and smiles at Nico and for a moment he is convinced, wholly genuinely and truly, that the sun that’s been hiding behind the clouds all day has finally peeked out, because he can actually feel his whole body warm, in that slow-rising, penetrating way; he can actually smell the surge of sunshine in the air, feel the red glow in the backs of his eyelids, taste the brightness of the light. Every one of his neurons sinks into his system, sighing, cells reacting to thousands of years of memory of the gentle warm of the Earth’s closest star.
But the sun is not shining, and there is only Will, and his too-big teeth brush against the bottom of his lip, and his dimples show, and his eyes crinkle, and he is more radiant in even his old stained camp shirt and fraying jean shorts than his father has ever been and could ever hope to be. A thousand planets could thrive under a hundred blazing stars and none could come close to him. He knows it, how those ancients felt, the drunken surety as they stood and challenged the gods, swore up and down that their beloveds outshone Venus, Diana, Juno; Will does, Will does, and Nico understands intimately the hubris in a way he scoffed at as a child, because the words bubble and boil and threaten bursting inside of him now. What claim have the Olympians? Over sunlight? Over beauty? Over Will?
“We’re happy?” he says instead, choking hoarsely over the veneer words, over the blocked desperation, truth. “In our normal, we’re happy?”
“Always,” Will whispers. He twists onto his knees, crawling the two inches over to press close, close, closely, hand gentle on Nico’s stomach when he tries to sit up, and presses his lips to Nico’s cheek, dry, twitching with his smile, shaking with his laughter. Nothing is funny, and he isn’t joking, but Nico can feel the giddiness bubbling up and out of him the way sadness flows out in tears; when Will is giddy he giggles, constantly, hiding it barely in his hands, and now he presses it into Nico’s skin, because he knows how Nico aches to hear it, how he watches him like he’s burning it into the ridges of his brain. “I am always happy with you, Niccolò.”
“I love you,” Nico says, fiercely, and it will never be enough, not in English, not in Italian, not in Greek, but he will try. “Te amo. Capiscimi? I love you, Will, I —”
“I know.” The tiny little vibrations of his laughter are — intoxicating; Nico is drunk, ascending. “I know, di Angelo. Sap. I love you, I know.”
He dissolved into giggles into the crook of Nico’s neck, and Nico is lying, still, facing the clouds, and he is warmed, and he is warmed, and he is warmed.
#it’s so funny that i never have ideas for 100 ways until the middle of the night stressing#like i’ve skipped over this prompt before cause i was like nah i’ll never fit this into canon verse but#here we are#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#nico di angelo#will solace#solangelo#nico di angelo/will solace#nico/will#will/nico#established solangelo#soft solangelo#whipped nico di angelo#100 ways#100 ways to say i love you#my writing#fic#longpost
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you’re so vain | eddie alden x f!reader
you and eddie are roommates and work at the same newscast… but the news aren’t the only things you’re reporting together.
or
some moments sfw and nsfw between you and your ‘friend’ eddie
warnings: sexual and romantic tension, eddie is a munch, they love each other but won’t admit, funny silly goofy moods, pussy eating in public/work place (the door was locked no one saw it), protected piv… while it’s raining outside… and you make love while still not admiting your feelings… the fwb drill we all know and love
a/n: hmmm did someone ask for… fwb!eddie? ☝🏼cause i did!!!
wc: probably around 2.3k i wrote it here sorrys !
the pictures are from this post and this post by @divinesols (both highly recommended as moodboards for this btw!) and i couldn’t find the creator of the gif :/ if anyone knows pls let me know so i can tag!
🗞️🗞️🗞️
“And… cut!”
“We had a bigger audience tonight. Looks like you’ve finally managed to draw the public’s attention.” You handed Eddie a smirk and a cup of coffee while he took off his earphones.
“I always draw attention, baby” he took it and winked at you, taking a sip but immediately making a face of disgust indicating the sugar that was not there.
You knew exactly how he wanted it, but you loved pissing him off.
“And you always brings me the coffee the way you know I don’t want it,” he said as he paced to the studio’s kitchen, followed by your fast steps behind him.
“Ops! And I don’t always bring you coffee, I jus-“
“You just happened to be passing by the coffee shop. Mhmm. I know,” he mocked your tone and expressions, “and you also just happen to be thinking of me all of the time, hm?” He pinched your nose.
You gave him an annoyed look, “well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Alden!” You said jokingly, pronouncing the “Mr. Alden” with very much cursive letters.
“Don’t call me that… At least not here.” You were always impressed by the way Eddie could manipulate the look in his eyes to translate exactly what he was thinking about. And, 99,9% he was only thinking about one thing.
Sex.
“Oh I’m not calling you that anywhere, believe me”
“Hmm, cause you rather scream my name, huh?” He raised his brows at you in a funny way, using his arms to cage your body between his and the kitchen counter while swaying a little, making you laugh in that way he loved; when your eyes squeezed together and your head hanged back with a big grin on your lips.
He just loved seeing you happy, specially if he was the reason. When was he going to admit it to you? Probably never.
“Eddie, Jesus! Not here!” Now both of you were laughing unglued his hands from your sides and pushed him away, giving him light taps on the chest.
“Alden, newsroom wants to see you.” Someone from the staff peaked from the door, causing your bodies to distance from each other at the speed of a Formula 1 car, him pretending to still put sugar on the coffee and you weirdly looking for something in the sink.
“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you,” he nodded his head, “wait for me tonight,” he smirked and taped your bum lightly, making you jump.
“Oh yeah bet on it,” you gave him a teasing tone.
“I’ll be watching you,” Eddie motioned his point and middle fingers from his eyes to yours, already by the door.
“That’s cause I always draw attention!”
🗞️🗞️🗞️
“Oh… fuck-“, you tried your best to whisper half of the depravations that were slipping from your lips and to swallow the other half that were stuck in your throat.
But it was very hard when Eddie had you sitting by the end of his desk, skirt up and legs spread wide upon his shoulders so his head could sit perfectly between them.
“So sweet, princess,” his praises were muffled against your throbbing clit, both of his hands hardly squeezing the sides of your thighs. He spent the whole morning dreaming about the taste of your pussy, and by lunch he couldn’t wait anymore.
“W-we have five minutes, Ed,” your worried little mind kept you looking every 5 seconds towards the foggy glasses on his door, but this time got interrupted by your eyes screwing shut and your mouth hanging open in a silenced cry when Eddie quit the sucking in your bud to fuck your hole with his tongue.
“I- we-,” every time you tried to say something and your words died in muffled little moans and cries he sucked and fucked harder. Eating you out was for sure one of Eddie’s favorite things and making you come when you couldn’t scream or cry freely was like a reward for his tiring day.
Having the opportunity to give you pleasure and piss you off at the same time? He was in.
“C’mon baby, cum on my tongue, hm? Wanna taste my girl,” he used two of his fingers to spread your wetness all over your center before nuzzling his head back again, nose stimulating your clit while his tongue entered you hungrily, in and out, in and out, the vibrations of his moans exploding fireworks in your veins.
The man was devouring you.
You came in a quiet moan, fingers gripping Eddie’s roots while his nails dig in your upper thighs and his face drowned in your cunt. He sucked and lapped you clean, until you were too sensitive to bear anything else, “fuck, thank you, baby. Here,” he gave you a paper tower from the adjoining bathroom he had in his office and helped you put your panties and skirt back. If you didn’t already knew all too well the smirk he had on his face you’d think by that he was something that he actually wasn’t.
A gentleman.
But deep, down, he was. For you, at least.
“Can you stand?”
“You have done better performances”
“Oh of course. ‘oh, fuck! Eddie! so good! we have 5 minutes!’” he joked while pulling you in for a see you later hug and a kiss on the cheek before you could run away from him, “thanks, bub. Best lunch ever”
“You’re disgusting,” you laughed, pushing his chest and stepping towards the door.
“If I was I wouldn’t have your pussy all over my face now, would I?”
“Disgusting,” you mouthed and closed the door, not giving him time to fry your braincells that had just started working again.
🗞️🗞️🗞️
“Shhh. Almost there, baby. You can take it, just a little more”
“So good,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips while the raindrops slipped down your window.
Your plan definitely wasn’t to end up under Eddie tonight, but the thunderstorms got louder than you thought they would. And as it always happens between the two of you, one thing led to the other, and…
“Fuck- found your spot, pretty girl? So good t’me,” Eddie was fucking you tonight. You didn’t know if it was because of the rain painting your frames with the moonlight, the fact that it’s been a little while since you’ve slept together or if he found it cute every time you shivered and gripped his biceps cause a thunder was a bit too loud.
His cock was nestled deep inside your walls, messaging your favorite spots with each thrust. He was going slow, fierce, calculated, and he had all the patience in the world.
You could feel him everywhere.
From his fingers in your scalp to his hot tongue slow dancing with yours to every vein rubbing your walls deliciously. Sometimes his dick split out because of how wet you were together and he didn’t even bother, he kept fucking your clit with his tip, up and down, up and down, making you see stars until he felt you couldn’t take it anymore and tucked himself back in. His words? Praises and praises and praises hanging from his lips like sugar. You’ve never felt so full and so… Adored.
“Yeah, c’mon princess, can feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. Think you can come now, baby?” Eddie slowed even more his pace to watch your face contort in pleasure while tears fell down your eyes, every pulse of your warm cunt around his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. You came within seconds, nodding your head “yes” while your little pants and moans being muffled by his own, your mouths tangled while he came with you, filling the condom you help him put earlier on.
Both of you had - intentionally - little to no sex like that; but it happened. And when it happened, it was usually because you either lost yourselves or one needed so much. You tried not to be too much in your head about it, but it was difficult when Eddie kissed your forehead and played with your head, still inside you.
He didn’t want to go, either.
“You don’t look so afraid of the noises now,” he tried to break the silence between you, knowing very well it wasn’t the awkward or comfortable types, but the emotional kind.
“The rain stopped,” you let out, with tears still leaking from your eyes.
“And are you sad about it?” he dried them from your cheek.
You smiled, “fuck you.”
“You just did,” he stared at you for a bit, caressing your cheeks as your eyes stopped watering and the last raindrops flowed down the window.
“Stay? It might rain again…”
You lifted your pinky between your bodies, “just this time,” and he embraced your smaller finger with his, “just this time.”
But both of you knew it wasn’t just this time.
It would rain again.
🗞️🗞️🗞️
When your keys turned on the locket the last thing you expected was to meet Eddie eating ice cream directly from the pot at home 20:17pm on a friday.
Sitting on the counter.
Shirtless.
“…What are you doing here?”
“Uh.. I live here? I should be the one asking you that,” he motioned the spoon in your direction.
“Eddie, it’s 20pm on a friday,”
“Actually, it’s 20:17pm on a friday”
Yeah you weren’t doing this tonight.
“Fine, whatever.”
“Hey, what’s that?” His tone was softer, he always knew when you had a bad day.
And good ones too. And any kind of day you have had and exactly how he should react to it.
“Just… Pierce screamed at me again,” his eyes followed you as you took the wine glass out of the fridge.
“So… She did her job cause you weren’t doing yours…”
“Try again,” you poured a glass.
“She’s just a bitch who can’t let you do your work without complaining about whatever shit she caused”
“Bingo!” You swallowed the whole wine in one go, watching through the glass as Eddie’s hand reached for it and took it from you, “no no no, this will not help you.”
“And what will? Being dumped by a freshman college girl and Ice cream?”
He gave you a disappointed look but reached for your hands anyway, “come here,” he pulled you to his body, arms embracing you while you positioned yourself in between his legs, head resting on his chest and arms around his waist.
“You know what you really need?” His words were muffled on the top of your head.
“Hm?”
“To shut the fuck up”
“You shut the fuck up” now your words were muffled on his chest.
“I know you don’t mean it. You love me.”
“Sure”
And actually you sure as hell did. And he loved you too. When were you going to admit it to each other?
Probably never.
🗞️🗞️🗞️
#if i don’t post it now im never gonna post it and the other one just it 800 notes so here’s a little celebration!!#yupiiiii i love eddie so much he so sexy and cutie and whom whom delicious#here’s a little something!!#i had SO MUCH FUN writing it you guys have no idea#would totally write a whole series on them ngl#eddie alden#eddie alden x reader#eddie alden smut#someone like you#gonna use logan tags im so sorry but i think eddie doesn’t get the recognition he deserves#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlet smut#logan howlett fic#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman characters#hugh jackman smut#my writing
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Can’t help falling in love
summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings
warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert
words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)
1.
Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.
His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.
It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.
And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.
Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you’re standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.
“It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?” a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.
There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:
“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.
“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.
That’s until you both hear a loud cry.
“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.
She sprints decisively in your direction. “It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”
And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.
“She didn’t interrupt a thing,” he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.
The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.
Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.
“Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,” he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:
“Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.”
He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.
Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn’t feel lonely anymore. 2.
It’s been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn’t left the bed. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn’t an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn’t bear the thought of stepping out of the room.
His mother wouldn’t leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn’t help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.
That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He’s only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.
He’s startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human’s silhouette — and then another few to realize that it’s you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.
You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.
“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.
“They told me no one was allowed into your chambers,“ your hushed whisper burns his ear. “The silliest thing I’ve ever heard!” you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. “I knew I had to find a way to come see you.”
You examine his face, frowning at the scar that’s still healing.
“Does it hurt?”
He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won’t be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.
Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit.
“I will take his eye,” you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might’ve heard it wrong.
“...Whose eye?”
“Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours,” you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.
Aemond shakes his head.
“You shouldn’t,” his voice quiet but firm. “The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed.”
“Well, maybe he is too old to think straight,” you retort. “You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail,” you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.
And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.
And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:
“Are you sure I can’t take his eye?”
At that moment, he can’t stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it.
Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can’t lose you.
He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke’s eye isn’t worth the trouble.
3.
By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince.
His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.
You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.
Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid’s persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.
And then he opens it — and it’s you standing in front of him.
Aemond barely has time to register what’s going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can’t see it, he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly.”
“I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval,” he sneers and you stick out your tongue.
“While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers,” you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.
“I am friendly enough!”
“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.
Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you’re clasping in your hands.
“You come bearing gifts?”
“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing”.
It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you’re talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand.
“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”
There’s a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure. “Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”
He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.
“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.
“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”
“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.
“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.
Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn’t sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.
You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:
“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.
“The gem compliments your eye very well,” you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.
“We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is.”
“This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks,” you chide him lightly. “And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?”
At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you’re too concentrated on something, and Aemond can’t help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface.
He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glancing at him with something akin to fondness.
He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.
He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.
4.
Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn’t seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone is counting). It’s not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn’t leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.
Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to King’s Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon’s birthday, but Aemond didn’t care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond’s feelings for you.
“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.
“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.
“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider her part of the family.”
Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.
The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.
His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.
It’s not a drastic change, it’s all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.
“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.
“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.
As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.
The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days.
Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say. “It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”
He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you.
Aemond hesitates. “I thought you quite liked it.”
“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.
Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:
“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add, “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”
And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.
A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?
So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.
Maybe he should have.
5.
By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.
Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can’t hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can’t think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.
So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.
“My dear, I think you must talk to her,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.
Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe she is the only one who doesn’t see it.”
“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.
Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them. “You should tell her the truth.”
Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.
Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:
“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.
Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him. “Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.” The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.
You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.
“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.
“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”
Yet that’s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...
“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.
Aemond gives you some time before asking again.
“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.
You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.
“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.
Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.
“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”
“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.
“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”
“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.
“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.
“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:
“Me”.
You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute.
“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.
“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.
In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You are looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.
“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face.
Taken aback, you inquire. “You pity me?” He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.
“You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can’t get his head around what just happened.
“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.
Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.
“I only meant to say that I —”
And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.
“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.
... 1.
He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.
Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.
And so he does.
“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,” he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.
“Yes, I remember it pretty well,” you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.
“The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack,” there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. “Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you.”
He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.
“Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories.”
You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying.
“Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her,” the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.
“Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in,” he can’t take his eye off you.
Your face expression melts into a stunned one.
“I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness,” he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.
“When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine,” you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.
“I think you actually enjoyed it,” you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.
“I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you.”
You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.
“The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar,” he pauses, catching his breath. “You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you.”
You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.
“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.
“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:
“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.
You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm’s length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you’re in, you look so beautiful, it’s mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence.
“Aemond, please don't give me false hope,” your heartbeat is too loud, you don’t hear your own voice. He does.
“I do not wish to marry you out of pity,” Aemond takes the last step. “I want you to be my wife because I am in love with you,” he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. “I’ve been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually,” his voice gets low. “For what feels like an eternity,” Aemond murmurs.
“Why haven’t you told me?” you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.
“I was afraid you didn’t feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?” his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.
“Tell me that I am wrong,” he whispers, begging.
You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.
Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.
You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.
Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.
“Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices,” you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.
“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.
“When we were ten-and-three, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”
The air around you is tense, and you are enchanted by each other.
“Did that help to prove you wrong?”
“I may need some convincing,” his breath fans over your lips.
“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth. His favorite memory will be this.
And every other moment with you that’s to come.
author’s note: I’m sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I’m a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don’t want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, thank you for reading! 💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley’s song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there’s also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. 💞 my masterlist P.S. I’m also on AO3 (lol, who isn’t), in case you prefer to read fics there.
English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!
#aemond targaryen#got the idea out of the blue (oh the things I do instead of sleeping...)#wrote it in two days#pretty sure it's once in a year kind of miracle#my expectations are low though and I will probably never write anything like this again lmao#anyways I think I should get back to actually adding the tags and shut tf up#here’s a SPECIAL tag that I call 'the woman Aemond is in love with stands up for him'#I already used this trope twice and WILL use it again watch me#my stuff#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond one eye#aemond one eye x y/n#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfics#aemond targaryen fics#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfiction
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Batfam afikoman hunt for a request! Happy Passover!
#dc#dc comics#batfam#batfamily#batman#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#dick grayson#cassandra cain#damian wayne#i have more ideas for this that i think are fun but i have more requests to fill first#and i really wanted this one done during pesach#anyways sorry its so text heavy i have Ideas but will never write a fic. so/#my art
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