#i just moved a month and a half ago and I'm still unpacking and I'm looking for a job and updating my driver's license and shit 🙄🙄

[xxdereksfanficsxx]

Hi!! I have an idea and it's trans reader going to todoko for advice on how to confess to karamatsu, and kara notices because he tries talking to reader alone since he wants to confess to them, but gets the wrong idea about reader and todoko, so he avoids reader for a few days until reader gets tired of it and tells him everything and maybe reader shows kara how much they love him?? 🧐

I LOVE this idea!! The juices are flowing in my head, I hope it's okay if it takes me a little bit to get this posted, I have a lot going on at the moment, but I will gladly sit down and write this!

[scoops-stevie-archive]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 6

summary: as paige packs to move to uconn, she starts to doubt herself. grasping for a sense of security, she goes to the one person she knows can make her feel better. azzi.

disclaimer: as always everything i write is fictional!

warnings: fluff, angst, emotional distress, mild anxiety mention.

word count: 4.6k +

author's note: ik this probably isn't what you were expecting lol, very sorry. i will be giving yall what you want very soon.

~flashback to july 2020~

paige's pov:

i can't believe i'm doing this.

playing at uconn has been my dream since i was a kid, but now that it's finally happening i feel paralyzed. packing my stuff made things feel final.

i'm really leaving minnesota. everything i know is here.

who's going to build legos with drew? who's going to make my parents coffee in the morning?

my hands shake as i fold another shirt, memories flooding my mind. friday night games, late-night drives with the team, sunday morning cartoons with drew.

what if i'm not ready? what if i can't handle the pressure?

i'd been doing a good job keeping all this to myself. putting on my best smile for every interview, every photoshoot. i had a good enough support system too, my family, friends, fans. but behind every "congratulation", i felt their expectation. a standard of perfection only a prodigy could fulfill.

what if i let everyone down?

i can't let them see me crack.

it's not like i'm not grateful for the opportunity. this is all i've worked towards for years. it just hurts to leave everything behind, especially for a future i had no control over. i felt safe here, in this moment, i'm full of potential.

the weight of my potential weighs heavily on my shoulders, keeping me up at night.

i sink to the floor, surrounded by half-packed boxes. part of me wants to unpack it all, to pretend that time isn't moving forward.

my eyes snap up when i hear a knock at my bedroom door.

"hey kiddo," my dad says warmly, leaning against the door frame.

"hey," i reply weakly, putting on a smile. i feel his eyes scan my face, his expression warming with sympathy.

he knows my smile is fake.

"already packing? you don't leave for another week, it shouldn't take you that l—" he stops mid-sentence looking at my closet. "but with that shoe collection maybe you should've started a month ago," he teases, trying to make me smile.

"i just want to be ready," i say, sounding more insecure than i expected.

"it's okay to be scared, you know?" he starts, his voice gentle. "i know this is a big change."

"i just don't wanna disappoint anyone," i stand, continuing to pack my stuff, eyes glued to the floor.

"you could never disappoint us," he assures me. "we're all so proud of you, no matter what."

a mix of gratitude and homesickness rushes over me. i crumble over his words, a few tears escaping my eyes. walking slowly, he grabs me in his arms. we stand there for a moment, the heaviness of change lingering in the air.

"you know," he says suddenly, "i think azzi's still in town at her grandparents. why don't you give her a call?"

he's right, i usually visit her around this time of year. the thought of azzi brings a small smile to my face. memories of our summers spent together fill my mind—trips to the fair, month long sleepovers, sleeping in her clothes.

"not everything has to change, paige," his voice knowing, eyes gauging my reaction.

if anyone could understand what i'm going through, i'd be her.

"yeah, i'll give her a call," i nod, trying to shake my heartache.

"good," he says, walking to my door. "don't forget to leave some of your shoes behind. we don't need the whole state of minnesota wondering why there's a shortage."

i roll my eyes, laughing. "i'll think about it."

he gives me one last warm smile before closing my door. i take a deep breath, reaching for my phone.

azzi's pov:

i'm sprawled across my bed, scrolling through my phone when it starts buzzing. paige's name lights up the screen, and i can't help but smile.

"hey p," i answer, my smile showing in my voice.

"hey az," she replies, and immediately i know something's off. her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual charm.

"you okay?" i ask, sitting up straighter.

there's a pause, i can almost feel her forcing a smile through the phone. "yeah, i'm good. just...packing."

packing. right. she's leaving soon.

i'm hit with a wave of anticipatory grief. i've been trying to avoid thinking about what it's gonna be like when she leaves. we'd fallen into such an easy routine. she's spent countless summers at my grandparent's house, becoming part of my family.

"how's that going?" i ask, trying to sound hopeful.

"it's...going," she laughs gently. "it's just a lot, you know?"

i do know. the spotlight she's received these past couple years has been intense, but paige made everything she did look effortless. her confidence carried off the court, giving her a new charisma.

she was so easy to love.

"yeah...it's a big change," my voice matching her quiet tone.

there's another pause, the soft hum of the phone. i listen for her breath, a sigh, some background noice. but nothing. i feel her worry through the phone.

"can i come over—"

"you should come ov—"

we say at the same time. "i'll pick you up tomorrow morning," i smile at the thought of finally getting to see her.

i hear her take a steadying breath, "okay," her voice sounding a bit lighter.

my mind starts to wander. what if i don't see her again for years after this? all this time, and i never thought i'd have to confront my feelings for her.

"hey, i'll call you later, okay?" i'm sad to end our call, but i didn't have time to waste.

"uh yeah," she says, sounding a bit disappointed. "talk to you later."

i hang up the phone, my mind racing, filled with all of her favorite things. that minnesota lynx jersey she loves, her favorite snacks, the lego sets she builds with drew.

i can't let her leave without knowing how much of me she's taking with her.

i start in my closet, sifting through my clothes. my fingers brush against the fabric of my favorite hoodie—the one paige always steals when she's here.

i pull the hoodie closer to my chest, hoping that, for a moment, i could capture the warmth of her hug. a mixture of my perfume and her shampoo. i swear no matter how many times i wash the damn thing, it always carries a piece of her. like the intricate stitching holding the fabric, our bond sewn into the core of who we are.

i run my fingers along the seams—strong, resilient, trustworthy. i guess some things are too deep to be washed away. maybe it'll remind her that no matter how far she goes, a part of us will always be intertwined.

she should have this. it's practically hers anyway.

next, i move to my bookshelf, scanning the titles. my eyes land on one of my favorite john green books, looking for alaska. every once in a while she'd ask me to read it to her so she could fall asleep. paige always claimed my books were boring, but sometimes i'd catch her leaning in, eyes wide and attentive, consumed in the story. maybe she'd finally get around to reading it herself.

lastly, i grab some scissors off my desk and head for my front porch. the old basketball hoop stands sentinel, a silent witness to countless hours of our shared passion. i run my fingers along the worn metal, remembering all the times we'd scrimmage until the streetlights flickered on. our laughter and trash talk echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

i tilt the hoop towards me cutting off a piece of the net. the frayed edges feel like memories slipping through my fingers.

she was my champion first.

before the world knew 'paige bueckers', i knew paige. the slight competitive spark she'd get in her eyes before every shot. her confident sway as she played, turning my front porch into an arena.

everyone is finally gonna see in her what i've known for years.

back in my room, i surveyed my collection. each item, a different memory. i reach under my bed, adding the final touch to my gift—an old lego set paige and i bought together a long time ago. i put off building it with her, claiming we should save it for a special night.

there is nothing more special than tomorrow night.

i want everything to be perfect. i find myself frantically cleaning the house at 2 am, as if paige hasn't visited countless times. i organize my bookshelf, fold clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from wandering to her.

my exhaustion finally takes over and i lay sprawled across my bed. i try to sleep but she's all i dream about.

except these aren't the usual dreams.

a sequence of different visions flash through my mind, in each of them i'm losing her. we're on a basketball court, but something's off. paige is wearing a uconn jersey, looking different in a way i can't quite place. older, more independent. i'm still in my high school uniform. we're on opposite sides of the court, the air between us heavy. i call out to her but no sound comes out.

i want to tell her something. but my throat tightens, restricting like it's trying to hold her too.

i wake up before the sun, in a cold sweat. it felt so real, almost predestined. a heavy ache in my chest lingers, still unable to articulate what i need to tell her. the thought of my nightmares becoming real ignites a motivation in me to figure it out. fast.

i close my eyes again, hoping for dreamless sleep this time.

tomorrow, i'll find the words. i'll make sure i do.

paige's pov:

the sun peaks through my blinds, waking me up earlier than usual. awaking to the sight of half-packed boxes leaves me disoriented. but my heart flutters when i check my phone to find seven unread text from azzi.

i'm gonna miss stuff like this the most.

glancing at the time, i start to pack a bag to stay the night. she technically didn't say i was sleeping over, but i know us well enough to know that i will.

i start throwing things into my bag—my favorite hoodie, some shorts, and a pillow. then i pause, remembering the last time we hung out at her grandparents' place.

everything i needed was already there.

i empty half the bag, smiling to myself. the hoodie she'd always let me wear, my toothbrush, that book azzi's always bugging me to read, even my favorite pillow. they're all still at her place.

i'm reaching for my phone to tell her i'm ready when i hear my doorbell. smoothing out my hair, i nearly trip down the stairs running to answer the door.

i take a quick breath. even after all this time, i still want to look good for her. the moment i open the front door i'm met with azzi's smile, carrying two coffees in her hands.

everything i need is right here.

"i'm surprised you're not still in your pajamas," she smiles, handing me a coffee.

"what? no, of course not. i've been up for hours," i lie, letting her roll her eyes at my comment.

"mhm," she turns walking to her car.

i glance at her while she walks, her attitude showing in her posture. within just a few seconds, i already feel lighter.

the drive there is both long and short. as we pull up to her grandparents' house, i feel a wave of nostalgia. how many summers have i spent here? how much of me will i be leaving behind?

azzi's grandma is already at the door as we get out of the car. "paigey!," she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. "how's our little superstar?"

"hi grandma fudd," i mumble, as she pulls me into a hug. i feel like a kid again in her arms.

"look at you," she says, holding me at arm's length. "more beautiful every time i see you."

i blush bashfully at her compliments. "hey, what about me?" azzi pouts from behind us.

"oh hush, you too," she pulls azzi into a deep hug. "i'm glad you finally came, paige. i was worried you weren't gonna make it this year. azzi here hasn't stopped talking about you since your last visit."

i shoot azzi a look, raising my eyebrows at her. she blushes, looking away.

once inside, memories pass me by like a warm summer breeze. the creaky third step on the stairs, the faded marks on the doorframe where azzi and i measured our heights every summer. old family photos lining the hallway, many of which include me.

azzi leads me up to her room, her hand gently tugging at mine excitedly. i let her lead like it was my first time in this house.

as we enter her room, i can't help but notice how clean it looks. her bookshelf organized by size and color, desk clear and neat. i almost miss the messiness of it all, the way her personality leaked all over her bedroom walls.

had she cleaned everything for me?

i scan her bedroom walls, all of which are covered in photos of us. photos from practice, summer trips to the lake, championship games.

her bedroom a museum of us, a bold testament to our bond.

"you kept all of these?" i asked softly, touching the corner of a photo from years ago.

azzi shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "of course," she clears her throat nervously. "only because i look so good in them," she laughs failing to hide her affection.

i turn to her, ready to tease her about being sentimental, but the words die on my lips. she's holding something behind her, smiling with her eyes.

she takes a deep breath, bringing her hands forward slowly. in them is a carefully wrapped package, similar to the half-packed boxes littering my floor at home.

"i, uh, got you this. well, more like...put together." she hands me the box.

my fingertips brush against hers, heart racing as i look up into her eyes. "az, you didn't have to—"

"just open it, p," she interrupts, her voice soft and eager.

i unwrap the box, finally catching sight of its contents. it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, it's all too much for me. her favorite hoodie, a worn copy of looking for alaska, a piece of frayed net from the hoop on her porch. and...is that the lego set we bought a long time ago?

all pieces of us, delicately put together in a small brown box.

"az..." i whisper, blinking away tears.

"i wanted you to have a piece of home to take with you," she explains, her eyes seeking my reaction. "so you didn't forget me—us."

i look up at her, my vision blurring the edges around her face. a warmth in my heart builds, surrounded by fragments of us. the finality of it all finally hit me.

how can we pack all of us into a box? years spent together, inseparable for the longest time, just to be neatly packaged in a cardboard box.

there's still so much i want to take with me. how do you package the sound of azzi's laugh? the feeling of her hand in mine? how do i fold up the comfort of her presence and tuck it neatly into a suitcase?

our friendship is a living, breathing thing. packing it away feels inhumane. she will never be a cardboard box i push into the back of my closet, the back of my mind. azzi's warmth pulses underneath my skin. she's the movement that pushes the blood through my body.

i realize something now. home isn't minnesota. it isn't my house or even this one.

home is azzi. and i'm about to leave it behind.

the weight of this box, however light in pounds, pulls me to the floor. my knees buckling underneath me, unable to form a coherent sentence. i'm drowning in a sea of emotions, waves of nostalgia and fear crashing over me. i cry, clinging to the box, like a life vest. my breath comes in short gasps, like i'm barely keeping my head above water.

i hear her call my name, but i can't respond. her voice feels far, muffled by my own emotion. i want to reach out, to tell her i'm okay, but my body won't cooperate.

azzi's hoodie wraps around me like a buoy, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my fears. the book, a raft of memories. the piece of net becomes a rope, pulling me to the shore of home—to her.

i can feel her worry radiate off her in waves, matching the momentum of my fear.

azzi's my anchor, solid and hopeful, grounding me in this storm. her hands cup my face, holding me like water, wiping away the flood.

her touch is gentle, safe. i lean into it instinctively, she always knows how to bring me back to myself.

looking up, i meet azzi's gaze. her eyes are a mirror of my own—a mix of worry, empathy, and something deeper. something that's been left unspoken between the two of us for a long time.

i feel her eyes search my face, a warmth that cuts through the chill of my tears.

azzi's looking at me like i'm her anchor too like she's just as terrified of drifting apart.

"paige, look at me," she says softly, also crying, wiping away my tears before her own.

i force myself to focus on her face. the wetness of her eyelashes, the trembling of her breath, her flushed cheeks—anything to slow my thoughts.

she sits on her knees, catching my tears in her palms. "you're not losing me, okay?" her voice reassuring, but also breaking between her tears.

"okay," i mumble sniffling. before i can thank her or apologize, she pulls my forehead to her lips. they tremble softly against my skin, her sadness showing but insistent on soothing me first.

azzi pulls my head into her chest, stroking my hair gently. i wrap my arms around her waist firmly, thinking that maybe if i hold her tightly enough, i can keep her here—in this moment, forever.

my tears begin to settle as i focus on her heartbeat, trying to memorize it. each beat a resilient promise, a faint whisper of trust, something to hold on to.

we stay there for a moment before azzi pulls back, staring at me with such a tenderness it almost sets me off again.

my eyes fall on the lego set peeking out of the box, and i can't let but let out a shaky laugh. "you're finally letting me build this," i smile, "it only took me almost moving away, huh?"

azzi's face breaks into a small grin, relief showing in her eyes. "like i'd trust you to build it on your own. someone's gotta make sure you read the instructions."

"hey!" i gasp in mock offense. "instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing, i'm a professional lego architect."

"oh we'll see about that," she jabs, opening the box.

azzi's pov:

as we build the lego set together, i can't help but steal glances at paige. i read the instructions to her but she's definitely not listening. already working at the pieces, her focus is unbreakable. her tongue pokes out slightly as she concentrates. it's so quintessentially her, it makes my heart ache.

the day passes by in a blur of laughter and shared memories. it isn't until i notice how dark my room has gotten that i realize we've spent hours on my bedroom floor.

"see, i don't need instructions," paige says, proudly showing off the part she's assembled.

"yeah, whatever," i laugh, admiring her confidence.

we're interrupted by a soft knock at my door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from behind the door. i open the door to my grandma, always the perfect host, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

she smiles warmly, "i thought you two might want a cookie break."

paige lunges up from the floor almost pushing me over, reaching for the plate. "you're gonna have to send some of these to connecticut," she says, between mouthfuls.

she laughs at her comment, "i wanted to give you this also," in her other hand she hands me an old film camera. "maybe you can capture something special," she smiles before closing the door.

"your grandma makes the best cookies," paige's voice muffled under the sound of her chewing.

before she can react, i snap a photo of her. the camera clicking in a way that makes me giggle.

"hey, i wasn't ready!" she snatches the camera out of my hands. "you're always the model anyways," she says, snapping a photo of me.

i give her a fake smile, still reaching for the camera. "happy now? give it back," i laugh, chasing her around my room.

"not until you give me a real smile," she holds the camera above her head.

"that's not gonna work, we're the same height, stupid," i reach for the camera nearly knocking it out of her hands.

"one picture, with a smile," she takes the camera up to her eye to look through the viewfinder.

i give her another impatient smile. she kneels down dramatically, shifting back and forth while snapping photos.

"okay, my turn," i reach for the camera again.

"these aren't real smiles," she pokes my side, making me giggle. "see there it is, hold still."

i drop my smile and pout dramatically. paige moves the camera away from her face and lunges towards me, jabbing at my sides. "stop, paige," i giggle, swatting at her hands.

she dodges me, her fingers continue relentlessly. i push her onto my bed, using my body weight to keep her still. we fight for a moment squirming around my mattress before i pin both of her wrists down. satisfied, i grin down at her. our laughter comes to a soft stop and we're both breathless.

"see, was that so hard?" paige tilts her head to the side, still out of breath. she attempts to reach her hands up again but i tighten my grip.

"oh, whatever," i roll my eyes, leaning closer to her, my hair draping over her face.

"can i tell you something?" she starts, her voice sounding a bit more serious.

"hm?" i respond, still satisfied i could hold her still.

paige hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "i've never actually had my first kiss," her cheeks flushing a light pink. "i thought i would've by now, before college, you know?"

i loosen my grip on her wrist, "oh, i had no idea. i figured plenty of guys would be lining up to kiss the paige bueckers," i tease.

"i guess," she looks away bashfully, "i just want it to be with someone special. someone i care about," her voice lowering to a whisper.

there's a silence that hangs between us. i feel my heart pounding in my chest. "like who?" i ask quietly.

i need to hear her say it.

her eyes flicker to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again. "like...you," she says nervously, almost asking it like a question.

was she saying what i think she was?

"really?" i lean closer to her, my eyes wide and hopeful.

she lets out a nervous breath, her eyes intently locked on my lips. "yeah," she whispers, blinking quickly.

before i can overthink it, she leans in, closing the gap between us. her lips meet mine softly, and my hands reach for her face. i feel a nervous tremble in her lips, soft and warm. the pure flavor of her lips, tasting like vanilla and chocolate. her hands move to my waist, her thumb swaying slightly. we move slowly, gently, not wanting to rush this moment.

our kiss is tender like a warm summer night. her lips move sweetly and determined like she's thought of this before. her hands stroking softly saying "i've wanted this. wanted you."

when she pulls back i feel a new kind of emptiness. how am i going to live with the absence of her touch? she's opened a crack in my heart, long enough for the light to come in.

kissing paige was like sunlight embodied.

we stare at each other for a moment. caught in this new in-between.

what do you say after you kiss your best friend? how do you tell her it was your first kiss too?

"i'm glad it was you," she smiles, sitting up.

"yeah, me too," i murmur, my voice full of emotion. i lean to the side, still dazed from her touch.

"it's getting late, we should probably—" she starts.

"yeah...um," i respond uneasily, standing up to walk over to my closet. i grab one of my old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. "you can wear these to sleep in."

paige takes the clothes from me, her fingers brushing against mine. when we touch this time, it feels different, heavier. she heads to the bathroom to change, and i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in.

even being just a room over, it feels like she's slipping through my fingers. i'm reminded of my nightmares from last night, paralyzed by the thought of losing her.

i need to tell her.

i grab a piece of paper and pen off my desk, my hands quivering slightly as i start to write.

the first part of the letter flows easily. but as i continue, i feel a shift. the truth hanging in the space between my pen and the paper.

she deserves the truth. and i owe it to myself, to finally tell her.

my heart races, searching for the right words as i continue...

i reread the letter, feeling vulnerable under my own words.

what if this ruins everything? what if she doesn't feel the same way?

i glance at my bedroom door, knowing paige could return at any moment. the panic sets in and i make a split-second decision. my hands shake as i tear the paper in half.

the first part, full of friendship and encouragement. it's a bit more sentimental than usual but not enough to make her suspect anything. i fold it neatly, placing it atop the other objects in the box. it's safe, expected.

the second part, my true feelings for her. i can't bring myself to throw it away, but i'm not ready for her to read it either. i tuck the small slip into the final pages of the last chapter of the book i'm giving her.

maybe one day i'll find the courage to tell her. maybe someday she'll finish the book and know how i really feel. but for now, this feels safe.

i don't know if i'm hoping she finds it or not.

as i hear the bathroom door open, i quickly close the book, sealing my fate. my heart pounds with the weight of my unspoken words.

my thoughts cease when i see her in my clothes. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unabashedly herself. for a moment, i see our future. imagining our closets becoming one, holding her as she falls asleep, an endless sleepover.

how am i supposed to let her go?

she catches me staring and smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes my heart ache. without speaking, we settle into our usual routine. i let her sleep on my favorite side of the bed, she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. eventually, she turns on her side, her back facing me.

right before i drift off to sleep, i hear her call out to me. "azzi," she whispers softly into the dark.

"hm?" i answer, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"can you hold me?"

her voice gentle and vulnerable, as if i could hold every piece of her together. "of course," i wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. she sinks into my touch, her breath slows.

she drifts to sleep quickly in my arms, our heartbeats syncing. the weight of our unspoken words between us, laying heavily on my chest, pushing me towards a deep sleep.

i dream of never having to let her go.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're convinced you and Bradley could go on the same date a million times over, and you would find something new to love about it each time. You don't want the weekend to come to an end, but at least you get to enjoy time with a favorite visitor on Sunday evening. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley was dressed and lounging back on the pillows with his arms tucked behind his head. You were getting ready to go out, and he was thoroughly enjoying watching you put on your red lingerie. His favorite set.

"We could just stay in," he murmured as you clasped your bra and rolled your eyes. Your face was made up and you were standing at the foot of the bed wearing barely anything at all. "We should just stay in."

You scoffed and said, "You should let Tramp out so we can leave in twenty minutes. I want to eat hot sauce with my sexy husband."

"Fine," Bradley sighed with a smile, pausing in the doorway to watch you slip your red dress over your head. The same one you wore on your first date together. The one Bradley loved you in every time you wore it. And then he walked through the kitchen to let Tramp outside. Your new French press was on the counter along with the half unpacked Amazon box that neither of you had time to get to all week. But he reached inside and pulled out one of his new notebooks and took a pen out of the drawer.

Bradley had been working late all week for various reasons. He'd missed a lot while he was deployed. Plus the Slayer and Dean court-martial was moving ahead. And also, Maverick had offered him the chance to meet some pilots fresh out of flight school with the promise that Bradley could help with some training exercises in the coming months. He was tired. Next month was his thirty-seventh birthday. He was feeling his age.

He clicked the pen in his hand and opened the notebook to the first page.

My wife does this thing, and it drives me absolutely wild. When I tell her I'm tired or point out a gray hair in my mustache or mention that I've been feeling my age, she just laughs at me. Sure, I can still run ten miles and lift weights for hours on end, but she can wear me out in an instant. Emotionally, mentally, or physically. She can say one sentence to me like, "I want to go eat hot sauce with my sexy husband," and I am emotionally tanked for the rest of the day. Because I fucking believe her. She actually does want to eat her favorite food with me. And she actually does think I'm sexy. And she's too smart, so trying to keep up with her mentally drains me every single time. And physically... Well. That's where she manages to

"You ready to go, Roo?" you asked, walking into the kitchen looking exactly like you had more than a year and a half ago when you and he were just starting to fall in love. Well, he was already half in love with you by the time that first date rolled around. And by the end of the night, he was a goner.

"What's wrong?" you asked, reaching out for his hand with a little crease between your eyebrows.

"Nothing," he rasped as his eyes dipped down to your cleavage. "Just thinking about how I don't even have to try to play it cool tonight, unlike on our first date." He leaned down and kissed your lips softly and then added, "You look fucking incredible."

"I don't care what you say, we're not staying in for the night," you whispered, running your fingers along his tattoo and pulling him in for a kiss that was clearly at odds with your words.

"Whatever you say, Sweetheart," Bradley replied. He let Tramp back inside and then walked out to the Bronco with your hand in his. And then he got to do one of his favorite things. He opened the door for you, helped you climb in, and buckled your seatbelt. But as he started to pull his right hand away from your body, you caught it and held him close.

"Hey," you whispered. "I don't have to try to play it cool tonight either."

"No?" he asked, his eyes fluttering closed as your lips met his.

"No. I love you so much," you replied. "And I would go on the same date with you a million times, because each time would be a little different, and I know I would remember them all."

Bradley could feel goosebumps on your arm, and your eyes looked a little vulnerable. Last time you and he had visited the hot sauce restaurant and the pier from your first date, it had been on your birthday. And you cried that night. A lot. Because you wanted to be pregnant, but you weren't. He briefly wondered how many other times you'd cried for that reason that he didn't even know about.

He wanted a baby. He still did. But it wasn't his top priority. He understood now how much you'd let it hurt you month after month. And it wasn't the same for him. He knew that now. And he didn't want you to feel like you were failing yourself, your relationship or him ever again. Because you weren't. You were more than enough.

"I remember every minute I've ever spent with you, Sweetheart. And I dream about it when I'm deployed. And I want to have decades of stuff to remember."

"Just keep feeding me hot sauce."

"I fucking plan on it."

-------------------------

The ride up to Del Mar was beautiful. The sky faded from orange to purple as Bradley drove and sang along to his Motown playlist with his hand on your thigh. You thought about how you had a panic attack on your birthday after the negative pregnancy tests, but the memory of it didn't hurt as much now.

"What are you thinking about, Baby Girl?"

You glanced at your husband out of the corner of your eye as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the restaurant. "Honestly?"

He met your eyes briefly as he straightened out the tires. "Yeah, honestly."

"I still want to have a baby, Roo," you said easily, this time without your heart aching. "I still think about it. But it doesn't make me upset like it used to."

He killed the engine, and coaxed you over to his lap. "Come here." When you were settled on him with your hands on his shoulders, he kissed you. "I still think about it, too. I still want it. But not at the expense of this," he added, gesturing between his body and yours before he let his big hand settle on your hip. "I don't want anything at the expense of this."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Neither do I. And I know we agreed we can talk about this at length in a few more months, but I don't want to stop trying. And if there's still something wrong after a year, maybe we can talk to some doctors?"

"There's nothing wrong with us, okay? There's never going to be anything wrong. But if we still don't get pregnant, there are other options," he told you gently. "Like... fertility treatment or adoption agencies. But whatever we do, it's 50/50. We do it together. And I promise I'll take care of you better than I did before."

You were silent for a beat, because these were things you'd already thought about. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I'm just saying, if we want a baby, there are other ways to make it happen. But I'm never going to stop wanting to fuck you, so don't think for a second that we're taking that off the table."

You shook with silent laughter before your giggles bubbled over. "Okay, we won't take that off the table, Roo."

He kissed your cheek and said, "Keep your pussy on the table." But he was laughing too, and you felt really good inside. His hands were heavy on your hips, and his lips were nipping at your neck. "Just let me feed you hot sauce and love you, and then we'll figure the rest out later if we even need to. I wanna give it a little more time, okay? Some more time with you off birth control. Some more time with us just being us. Like this."

"Yes," you agreed. "This is perfect. This feels good."

Now he was rubbing his mustache along your cleavage, and you knew you needed to get him inside the restaurant while you still could. "I'm hungry," you whispered.

"Me too," he agreed with a smirk.

"For dinner," you clarified with a laugh.

When you finally got him inside the restaurant, you could hear his stomach growling, so you didn't feel too bad. "Order two meals you want to try, Baby Girl," he said casually once you were seated.

You loved it when he let you do that, which was most of the time. And he always let you finish whichever one you liked better. And he never complained. You could feel his eyes on your body when you walked around to look at all the hot sauces on the shelves. Every time you glanced at him across the restaurant, he gave you a little nod or a wink. And there was no doubt in your mind that you were just as attracted to him now as you were the first time you were here.

When you brought some that you wanted to try back to your table, a brand new bottle of your favorite green sauce was sitting next to your favorite beer. "How am I supposed to deal with you, Bradley?"

"It's your favorite. And it's a tradition."

You laughed. "You bought me a whole case of 12 bottles online."

"You go through a bottler per week."

"That's actually fair."

Then your meals were delivered to the table, and you doused both of them in a rainbow of sauces and started eating. The two of you ended up sharing both meals, because you couldn't decide which one you liked better. And that one beer made you feel calm, and now Bradley's cheeks were rosy. After your conversation in the Bronco and the past week with him, you felt like all of the weight and pressure you put on yourself was easing up.

After dinner, you were laughing as he led you down the sidewalk with his arm wrapped around your waist. And you couldn't keep your hands off him either. "Why are we passing the Bronco? We should go home."

"Not yet," he whispered in your ear.

You gasped. "Are we going back to the silent disco?"

"Well," he rasped, looking at you with a wince. "Not exactly. I've been trying to get you back there for one, but they always seem to be when I'm deployed. But I had another idea. Let's walk down the pier."

You snorted. "You just want a handjob."

"Please," he replied, leading you across the street and down the pier. "Give me a little credit. I don't just want a handjob."

"Well that's good, because there are a lot of people out tonight," you whispered as he spun you around so your back was pressed against the railing and you were looking up at his face. "You're really handsome."

His cheeks were still rosy, but you thought perhaps your words had deepened the color. You ran your fingers along his scarred neck and across his cheek and into his hair. His eyes closed as he enjoyed your touch, and you studied him closely. He looked a little older than when you met him, with a few gray hairs here and there and maybe another wrinkle or two on his face. He'd been through a lot since then. He had the scars on his arm to prove it. But you didn't want to add emotional scars; he had plenty of those already. You just let him melt into your right hand as your left rested on his chest, and you looked at your diamond ring.

It was yours now, but sometimes you still thought of it as Carole Bradshaw's ring. Not in a bad way. Just as a form of recognition. It felt like an honor that you were wearing something so special. Maybe that was thanks in part to the words Bradley had read to you from his notebook. His recent thoughts and musings. But it was clear that some things were more important than others.

"I love you," he murmured, eyes still closed. "Are you ready for your newest playlist?"

"What is it?" you asked, his question pulling you back to the pier and the grin on his face.

"Just a little something I've been thinking about and finally put together." He pulled his earbuds out of his pocket and held one up for you to take. Then he tucked the other one in his own ear and kissed your nose. "It's all the songs I can remember from the silent disco. Plus what we listened to in the car that night. Oh, and a surprise track. Because I know you'll think it's funny."

Your heart swelled as you slid the earbud into place, and a few seconds later, the Cher song that played at the silent disco was on. And your heart was beating a little faster. And you couldn't stop smiling. "You really remembered all the songs we heard that night?"

Bradley shrugged. "I may have missed some. We'll add them if you remember more, okay?"

"I love this," you gasped, throwing your arms around his neck. "I love you."

He kissed your jaw and whispered, "I told you... I remember every minute I've spent with you. Or at least the way you've made me feel at any given time. Maybe the memories of some of the songs are a little hazy for me, but I remember how fucking good you made me feel that night. And how I was proud to be there with you. I still feel that way."

"Fuck, Bradley. You can't make me cry while Britney Spears is playing."

He laughed. "Okay. Let's dance then."

-----------------------

It was dark out. The other people who had been enjoying the view of the ocean from the pier had dissipated. An orange glow from the scattered lampposts softly lit your face like a dream. Bradley had taken to singing all the songs to you, just to hear you laugh and sing along yourself. The random mix of pop songs and '80s ballads and romantic Motown tunes kept a smile on your face. You laughed when Hey Soul Sister played, and you threatened to text Nat. And the whole time, Bradley held you close with his hands at your hips and waist.

"Oh," he said when the music went silent. "That's the end of the playlist."

"It's over?" you asked, leaning back against the railing and looking up at him longingly. You removed your earbud and handed it back to him.

"Baby Girl, it was almost three hours long," he informed you with a laugh.

You tipped your head back and groaned. "It was perfect." Then you gasped softly as his lips found the pretty expanse of your neck and chest which were on display for him. He was sucking gently on your collarbone as you said, "I knew I was in trouble after the first time you brought me here. You were so sincere that night."

Bradley hummed against your warm skin. "I was already thinking about spending the rest of my life with you."

"No! Stop it. We had just met." Your voice sounded breathy as he drew little shapes along your dress with his thumbs, your head still tipped back.

"Didn't matter. Already knew."

Your hands slid up from his shoulders into his hair, and he nibbled along the tops of your breasts as you made the sweetest little sounds. Your nipples were tight peaks against the fabric of your dress, and when Bradley ran his lips lower to feel you, he groaned. The texture of your lace bra filled his imagination with possibilities.

You tilted your head up, and when he met your eyes, you had the audacity to look surprised. "You're hard, Roo."

He raised one eyebrow at you, just short of rolling his eyes. "Listen... when two people love each other very, very much..."

Your laughter filled him. "Oh, is that how this works? You know, that sentence can be interpreted a lot of ways."

He had to close his eyes as you gently squeezed his length through his jeans. "It's how it works with you." He huffed out a breath when you licked his ear and added, "You make me greedy. I want everything."

You hummed softly as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Bradley glanced around to make sure you and he were truly alone as you whispered, "Then let's have everything. Even if it takes some time."

"I love that," he groaned as your cool hand dipped inside his boxer briefs and closed around him. One stroke and he was putty in your hands.

"And we'll start with the handjob that I was seriously contemplating giving you on our first date."

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. You're too much." Bradley bucked against your belly as you ran your thumb along his balls. He'd let you go a little further with this, but then he was taking you home for the night. Just a little more. Each stroke was incredible as he kissed your lips.

But when you started asking him questions, he should have known he was in trouble. Because you always got unbridled information out of him when you put him in situations like this. "What do you want for your birthday, Roo?"

He was watching your hand pass over his tip as he grunted, "Another sexy calendar."

"That can be arranged," you said sweetly. "And how do you feel about me starting to save up some money for a first anniversary trip?"

"Do it," he growled as you rubbed at his precum with your thumb. But then he wrenched his hips away, and your eyes were transfixed on his cock as it leapt for you.

"You don't want to finish here?" you asked, your eyes moving up his body to his face as you licked him from your thumb.

After he zipped himself carefully back in his jeans, he said, "I don't want to ruin your dress, and I don't want to get arrested. Let's go home." He didn't even wait for you to respond. He just turned and picked you up for a piggy back ride back to the Bronco.

The drive home was similar to that very first date. After you kissed him while he fumbled with your seat belt trying buckle you in, he turned on another playlist before he started the engine. But this time he was driving to the house that you shared, not the apartment you used to live in with Maria. And he didn't have to leave you for the night to prove to himself that he could, and that maybe he was good enough. He was your husband now, and you had deemed him good enough for you.

Bradley's hand was gripping your thigh as he saw the craftsman down the block. As soon as he was pulling into the driveway, you were crawling toward him, and he barely had the Bronco in park before you were straddling his thighs.

"I want you in every way." That sentence was the best example of how you wore him out emotionally. It was fucking beautiful, and he could spend all night just thinking about it. But you were kissing him now, and he was already aroused again as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

"You own me." You really seemed to love that response as your lips stayed gentle on his and your hand drifted down his body to his zipper again. It was so dark outside, even in the neighborhood, but Bradley could see the question in your eyes as you pulled back a little bit. Maybe you wanted to make sure he wanted this, too. Maybe you wanted him inside you instead of anything else. He just wanted to be with you. "Anything you want, Sweetheart."

"Okay."

He shimmied his jeans and underwear down his hips, lifting you up as well with a soft laugh. Then you took his hands in yours and guided them slowly up under your dress. He was treated to the sight of you unzipping your dress and unclasping your bra and pulling them down so he could see your pretty tits and peaked nipples. But then his hands froze under your dress.

"You changed your underwear. Earlier tonight. After I left the bedroom."

Your laughter had your tits bouncing just enough to distract Bradley and lure his lips to them.

"Oh!" you gasped as he sucked on you. "I did. I know you like the red ones, but I wanted these instead. Do you know which ones they are?"

That was a ridiculous question, and you knew it. He ran his thumb up your slit and could feel the satin fabric and the fancy embroidered letters as you bucked. He sucked harder until you called out his name and braced your hands on his shoulders. You were wearing the underwear you had specially made for the honeymoon.

"Of course I know, Mrs. Bradshaw."

"You passed the test!"

Bradley tugged your panties to the side and thrust up into you in one fluid motion until he bottomed out. "That's a test I will always pass."

Your hands were scrambling around his neck as you leaned in closer and kissed him. He led your hips in a slow roll with his hands on your ass and whispered, "Just. Like. That."

You kept the pace going, already panting softly as he brought one hand back up to your tits. His other fingers trailed around your hip, and he tucked them inside the front of your panties. As soon as he brushed your clit with his knuckle, you whined for him. "Daddy."

It had been a while since he heard you call him that. And fuck if he didn't love it. But you looked almost surprised that you'd said it out loud, eyes wide as you rode him.

"I fucking love it when you call me that," he crooned as he pinched your nipple. Your pussy was already fluttering around him as you kept that perfect tempo. Bradley pressed his mouth to yours as you babbled incoherently, and it was just a lost cause as you raked your fingers through his hair. He came inside you as he kept pressing his knuckle to your clit.

"Come on, Sweetheart," he coaxed as your movements sped up and then slowed as your cries echoed inside the Bronco. Then your lips were all over his before you abruptly broke away.

Your voice was a sweet little gasp as you said, "Don't make a mess on the upholstery."

With a laugh rumbling deep in his chest, Bradley opened the door and lifted you down from the driver's seat. "Just one of the many reasons we're married."

--------------------------

You and Bradley were lounging in bed on Sunday morning, and he was doing a really poor job of making you want to leave to meet Cam and Maria for brunch.

"Aren't you supposed to be golfing today?" you asked with a laugh as he pinned your wrists over your head on the pillow.

"Yep," he replied softly. "Supposed to meet Jake, Javy and Bob in less than an hour."

You sighed as his lips met the underside of your breast. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed then?"

"I'd rather go for round three and then drink champagne in the bathtub with you."

Now that did sound nice. The weekend had been so much fun. Going up to the hot sauce restaurant had been perfect. You were exhausted all over from having sex and taking Tramp on long beach walks and staying up too late watching movies last night. And Bradley finished reading his notebook to you and promised he'd start from the beginning all over again. Frankly, you could use a nap already, so you weren't really sure how Bradley was doing so well at the moment.

"I'm supposed to go to brunch," you whispered, and Bradley rolled off of you with a groan.

"I'll get side eye for a month from Maria and Cam if you don't go," he said. "So I guess I'll just go play golf."

"We can do round three later," you promised, kissing his ear as you climbed out of bed and started to get ready. "You want me to bring you back some avocado toast?" you asked with a smile.

He made a disgusted face. "You know I hate that stuff. I'll just day drink and eat protein bars like a normal person until you feed me dinner."

"If I decide to feed you dinner later."

Bradley's face looked panicked. "You have to. Please? Sweetheart," he called, springing out of bed and following you to the bathroom. "Please?"

"You're ridiculous, Bradley. Go get a pack of chicken out of the freezer, and I'll make you some Marry Me Rooster tonight."

"Thank you." He kissed you so long and so passionately, you actually felt a little dizzy when he walked out of the room. "He's ridiculous," you muttered as you pressed your fingertips to your lips.

When you finally made it to brunch fifteen minutes late, Cam was glaring at you. "Maria wouldn't let me order anything until you got here. And I'll just bet you're late because Lieutenant Commander Mustache was doing something nasty to you."

You burst into laughter as you slid into the booth next to him. "I mean... I was just helping him with his golf clubs."

"The two of you are fucking filthy," he replied, flagging down the waitress while you and Maria laughed.

Brunch with the two of them was always fun, and you were on your second mimosa when Bradley texted you.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Jake wants to know if we can watch Jeremiah tonight if he can manage to get Cat to agree to go to a movie. I told him I had to check with the boss. He laughed and said he should have just texted you instead of asking me... oh wait, I think he's texting you now. Why did I even bother? And then you got a text from Jake asking very nicely if he and Cat could drop Jeremiah off later on their way to a movie. You told them both yes, and when you got home from brunch, you started to clean up the living room. You found your underwear from last night on the coffee table, and your bra was draped over the arm of the couch.

"Don't look at me like that," you told Tramp. "We were just having a good time, okay?" Then you smiled, because you knew that your pup was going to love licking crumbs off of the one year old visitor and following him around the room. "Your friend is coming over. I expect you to be well behaved."

-----------------------------

"He's just so fucking cute."

"Roo! Stop swearing in front of the child!"

Bradley looked up at you from all fours on the living room floor. "Isn't he too young for it to matter?" he asked in all seriousness.

You were gaping at him like he was an idiot, and he started laughing. "The last thing I need is Cat mad at me because his first word is the f-word."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "If he doesn't learn it from me, then I'm sure he'll learn it from Jake."

"Yeah, well that's Jake's problem," you muttered, ducking back into the kitchen to check on dinner.

Bradley scooped Jeremiah up and said, "You're so freaking cute. Is that better?" The little bubble of laughter he got in response was most likely a yes, so he just went with it. "Let's see here. It's almost dinner time. And then I'll bet my hot wife will read us that book about trucks that you liked so much."

"I'll read it now," you said as you walked back into the room. "Dinner is not quite ready yet."

"Hell yes, she's going to read it to us now," Bradley said as he and Jeremiah crawled across the floor to the diaper bag where the book was stashed. He unzipped it and watched the kid reach in and pull everything out including the book. "Nice work. But my knees can't take much more."

With a groan, Bradley scooped him and the book up and carried them to the couch where you were sitting with Tramp. And you looked calm and relaxed as you held the child on your lap and opened the book. Your voice was so sweet, and you were so beautiful, Bradley noticed that Jeremiah seemed more interested in you than the story at times. And it made him smile, because that was pretty much the same way he always looked at you, too.

But he was done stressing about all of it. Bradley was in love with you, and the weekend was everything he wanted. Having a kid like Jeremiah all to yourselves would be a cherry on top of an already perfect life. And if you and he were both still keen on the idea next year, there were options to be discussed at length.

Bradley let himself hope, just the tiniest bit, that maybe you and he would get lucky before then. But he wouldn't drown in that hope like he had before. And he wouldn't let that hope overshadow how great things were right now. But he wouldn't abandon it either. He laughed as he thought about how insightful his notebook entry was going to be later tonight after Jeremiah got picked up.

"Should I read it again?" you asked, looking up at Bradley.

He kissed your cheek. "At least one more time, Sweetheart. We can't get enough of your voice."

You smiled as he and Jeremiah settled in to hear the favorite story again.

------------------------------

The perfect date to do over and over. Little Jeremiah is too sweet, I'm just hoping Cat and Jake are enjoying themselves, too. Just hang in there guys... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[ilovedavidloki]

We don't need a couch for this

Detective David Loki x Reader Pure fluff & smut 18+!!! Summary: you and David have just moved in together. TW: none that I can think of. Word count: 1600s. Notes: This is the first fic I'm posting on tumblr, so please be gentle! I just wanted to share my love of David with you all, as well as to give him some joy, as he definitely deserves that & so much more! Do let me know in comments if you like it & any suggestions you can think of!

Soft rain patters against the porch roof as you open the front door and step inside your new home. It smells unfamiliar, unlived-in. The space itself is unrecognisable from when you and your boyfriend came to view it, cluttered as it is with boxes piled high on top of one another, some already torn open and spilling forth items from your previous life. Your single life.

You smile, remembering how embarrassed you were when it turned out that you had nearly three times as many things as David; if he wanted to, he could fit all his belongings into a couple of suitcases. He could have simply moved in with you to your former apartment, but you both wanted a fresh start, a place the two of you had chosen together.

Mostly unfurnished, this house is yet to feel like home. Remembering there’s no cabinet to leave your keys on, you slide them into the pocket of your jeans and kick off your shoes. You stretch, pleasantly fatigued with the excitement of the past few weeks.

House-hunting with David wasn’t the smoothest of experiences, considering his hectic schedule and frequent, unplanned absences. Since you generally worked from home, the task of browsing through the listings and calling the estate agents had fallen largely on to you. Not that you minded; in fact, you quite enjoyed the whole process. Showing the houses you liked the most to David in the evening, settling on the ones you both preferred, arranging viewings for the weekend hoping he wouldn’t be the one detective on call on those particular days. It was nice, if only for the sweet and thrilling anticipation of the two of you getting this much closer. Getting this serious.

David isn’t the easiest person to get along with. He can be perfectly pleasant with strangers – unless they happen to be his suspects, of course. But he’s guarded, accustomed to holding his inner life close to his chest. The thought tugs at something inside you, and you find yourself smiling again. Even if he hadn’t told you, you’d still know that you were the only human being he ever revealed his true self to.

You treasure it as much as you treasure the memory of your first kiss.

There’s no couch, you haven’t bought it yet, but there’s the old easy chair you’ve been carrying with you to every place you’ve ever rented, and so you curl up in it, too tired to get on with unpacking, lulled almost immediately to sleep by the drumming rain.

Darkness has already fallen when the scrape of David’s key in the look awakens you. You smooth your hair and adjust your shirt, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. At first, all you see is his silhouette, his wide shoulders clad in his baggy overcoat. He takes it off and hangs it by the door.

‘Ah, shit,’ he hisses, stumbling into one of the boxes and sending it falling to the floor. He uses the screen of his phone to illuminate his surroundings.

‘Hey,’ you say, climbing to your feet and groping your way towards him.

‘Hey baby.’ You can hear the smile in his voice as his arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You brush the tip of your nose against his neck, inhaling the smell of his skin, and kiss his tattoo half-hidden by the collar of his shirt. 

‘I missed you so much, David.’

He tightens his grip. ‘I missed you too.’ He plants a kiss on top of your head. It seems like the two of you are swaying gently to your own secret rhythm. There’s only the darkness, the smell of David’s cologne, that small bottle you bought him a couple of months ago as a surprise gift for no occasion. There’s the strangely sad scent of rain coming off his slicked-back hair, and the steady beating of his heart, and the warmth of his firm embrace. You feel as if you’re about to fall back to sleep, right here, right now. 

‘You’re tired.’ He’s stroking your back, his movements careful, almost hypnotic. 

You shake your head. In the meagre light of the streetlamp coming from somewhere outside, flowing through the uncurtained windows of your living-room-to-be, his beautiful big eyes are a dark, stormy blue. It never ceases to amaze you how long and fluffy his eyelashes are. Pale silver dots are sprinkled throughout his dark stubble. He’s a 33-year-old man, after all. A soft smile is playing on his lips as you give his sides a gentle squeeze before removing his jacket. Your palms glide up and down his biceps hugged tightly by the soft grey fabric of his shirt. They’re so well-defined. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his white tank top underneath, as well as his necklace, you take a step back to admire the outlines of David’s physique. His lips find yours again, they’re too hungry, too needy, and the kisses grow sloppy, and the sensation of his moist, warm tongue entering and exploring your mouth is simply divine. His heartbeat accelerates, and his movements are much more demanding now. The thick hair growing on his arms feels so nice under your fingertips, a little coarse but somehow still smooth. 

You sense his raw, burning need in the way he grips you, in how he leaves a trail of wet kisses and soft bites along the slope of your neck and your exposed collarbone. 

‘Fuck,’ he breathes when your fingers move down to squeeze his hardening dick. 

‘I don’t think we need a couch for this,’ you grin into his parted lips. 

‘No,’ he shakes his head, removing your shirt with admirable swiftness. ‘We don’t.’ 

He gets rid of his gun and his taser, placing them carefully on top of the nearest box along with his pair of handcuffs and his badge. He lays you onto the messy pile of clothes you’d just shed onto the floor. Leaning over you, David pauses to admire the sight of you as you wait for his touch. This moment is so perfect for him, suspended between him ripping off the last item of clothing which separates the two of you, and the still-unfamiliar sensation of his sensitive tip pressing against your warm and needy core. His hairy chest is heaving, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the blue veins standing out on his neck. His small, pink nipples are hard and sensitive, awaiting your caress. You squeeze them between the soft pads of your fingers, making David open his mouth and moan. You rake your fingers through his brown locks stiff with whatever it is he uses to sculpt his hair into his customarily immaculate hairdo. You pull at the roots, stroking your way down towards the plush areas at the sides of his head where the hair is much shorter. 

‘I want you,’ you whisper. ‘All of you.’ Your fingers stroke their way to his hairy abdomen, and then right down to his cock. His pulse echoes through your fingers. His cock is hard and strong, but also silky and tender. Roped with veins. It pulses in your palm, and as you give it a couple of gentle tugs, David’s lashes tremble, and his mouth falls open with a guttural moan. 

‘You have all of me, kitten,’ he mumbles, pressing another hungry kiss to your lips. He bites the tender flesh of your lower lip, your tongue, the thin skin of where your pulse is beating inside your neck. He’s devouring you, and you couldn’t be happier. 

You revel in the sensation of his deft tongue following the direction of the veins along your throat. David’s caressing your breasts, his tongue circling your hardened nipples. You feel David’s cock twitch greedily against you, and you spread your legs wider, prepared to take him in, desperate to become one with him. His warm, wet tip glides up and down, rubbing against your clit, awakening something primal, making you arch your back as you are consumed with bittersweet, painfully pleasant sensations. His hand guides his cock as you arch your back, struggling to accept the entire length of him all at once. His breathing is heavy as he reluctantly pauses to let the both of you get accustomed to the head-spinning sensation. 

And then David begins to move. It feels amazing, it feels like heaven. His length and girth are stretching you, and it would be painful, perhaps, if not for David’s care and consideration. He watches you, blinking, watches every twitch of your expression, listens out to each and every of your sighs. His fingers entwine with yours. 

‘Fuck, this feels so good, baby.’ He thrusts deeper, harder, his temples and his chest beaded with sweat. ‘You’re alright?’ he pants into your neck, his hips bucking as he approaches – and tries very hard to delay – his orgasm. Your walls spasm deliciously around him. He whispers your name, again and again, and then a guttural, feral growl escapes David’s lips as he feels himself slipping away, yielding to the all-consuming pleasure. He spills into you, thrusting so deep it almost hurts. You welcome this sweet pain. 

‘I love you so much, David,’ you pant, covering his stubbly cheeks, his eyelids, his bushy brows, his damp, veiny neck with kisses. ‘I love you so much it almost hurts me.’ 

He buries his smile in your neck. ‘I love you too, kitten,’ he murmurs. 

‘Still, we should buy a couch,’ you chuckle.

‘Fuck, we definitely should,’ David agrees, throwing the damp brown locks off his forehead. 

‘A fold-out one.’

‘Oh yes.’

This is the start of your new life. Finally, and for ever, together.

[mssonepiece]

You said you wanted one..

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Content~Fluff

From this poll.

You and Satoru have decided to take the next step in your relationship by moving in together. You've been dating for five years now, and after bringing it up so often you decided to shoot the bullet and ask Satoru if he really wanted to find a place to grow and start a family of your own. You were nervous asking him such a question at first but he agreed that you'd been dating so long that you might as well live together. Adding that it would be much easier to sleep in the same bed when you aren't having to travel to each others houses every night. It's been a serene few weeks breaking into the new house and creating new habits. Picking a house that suited both of your requirements was very stressful on you and finally being able to relax knowing all the furniture was in place, was everything that you needed with this move. With everything being in order, you and Satoru were able to spend days at home resting on the couch or in bed. The move has brought you together much closer than you've ever been. It felt like you didn't need anything else from life in this moment. However, Satoru walking past a pet store on his way from work couldn't help himself from getting pulled into the shop. He took his time browsing around all the fish, birds, dogs, and eventually cats that were in the back of the store. There's a range of colors to pick from of small kittens, they have to be at least 3 months old. Instantly Satoru knew that he had to bring one of these kittens home to you. He remembers how you mentioned loving animals and wanting a few of your own one day, which is only temping him to buy one more. A yellowish-orange kitten with a cream colored patch covering half of its face stretches up the glass as far at it can reach, catching Satoru attention. He can't help but let out an audible 'aw' at its actions, smiling brightly at the thoughts in his head. He takes a minute to watch all the kittens play before walking up to the staff to show them which cat he will be taking home.

You got home from working at your office job about an hour ago, deciding to unpack a few of the remaining boxes lying around the house to tidy up a bit. It’s an attempt at trying to keep yourself busy while waiting for Satoru to get home from a "hard" day of teaching, though after a while you notice it seems to be taking a little longer today than normal. It’s not long before you get tired of emptying boxes and opts for putting on a tv show to past the time instead. Half an hour later the click of the front doors lock and the footsteps of Satoru's boots pulls away your attention from the show you put on. "I'm home," He shouts in a sing-song tone. "and I got something for us!" Closing the door behind him and taking his time to take his shoes off. You lunge off the couch and walk through the living room/kitchen to where the main entrance of your newly shared home is.

"Hi baby. Whatchu get?" You try getting on your tippy-toes to look around his frontside. He was attempting to hide something in his jacket but wasn’t doing a very good job as he was revealing the surprise to anyone in front of him. Satoru giggles, doing his best to not just show the cute kitten he's got on his detour to his lover. "Hey!" dragging out the 'y' when he still doesn’t show you what he's hiding. "Show me already Satoru!" You grab onto his sleeve, starting a small tug of war with him and his arm. Finally you pull him to face your direction with all your might, all he says is a quick 'tada' before presenting the small orange kitten to you in his large hands. "Oh my god.." Your jaw drops for a moment. Before you can register what's going on you're grabbing the kitten out of Satoru's hands.

"Be careful!" He jokes.

"I know. Oh my god Toru. I can't believe this! I've literally been wanting an orange cat for so long!" The smile on your face is more than worth it to Satoru.

"The worker said that this was one of their favorite cats in the store and she's such a little cuddle bug." Satoru laughs at the employees words, enjoying the view of the new responsibility. "She was climbing all over me on the walk home. She's a cutie, just like you sweetie."

"Aww. Really? That's so cute!" Your smiling so hard its starting to hurt but your certain your already in love with this kitten Satoru got. "I love her!" Cuddling the kitten up to your face you feel her purring lightly. Satoru feels a rush of heat flow through him as he watches his girlfriend with the small animal. His smile is also starting to hurt his face but he doesn’t care.

"What should we name it?" Satoru grabs your waist and pulls you into him. He has the perfect view of his girl and his kitty.

"It! Satoru!" You pet the kitten comfortingly as if it understood Satoru's comment. He rolls his eyes, giggling at the face you make and taking the chance to pull you closer. "We should name her.. hmm" You look down at the kitten to see if it'll ignite any ideas in your brain. "How about-"

"How about we name it Suguru?" Satoru chuckles.

"Shut up. We aren't naming her Suguru." You roll your eyes which only making Satoru laugh larger. "We need to pick a cute name, not our dead best friends babe." He juts out his bottom lip. He looks so cute that it makes you laugh. Your laugh always makes Satoru's heart do cartwheels, it makes him feel lightheaded knowing that he's the one making you laugh or smile. He drops his head to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck. The kitten puts its small paws on his face, causing another cute laugh from you. "Aww, you look so cute together." He smiles at your comment, bringing one hand up from your waist to pet the kitten. "Let's name her Honey. Because her furs the color of honey, and she's super sweet." There's no response, you only feel Satoru nod and his hair tickling you from in your neck. You're sure you haven't dropped the smile from your face since Satoru walked through the door. Who would have guess he would have gotten you the kitten you've been wanting to get yourself for years. You always put it off due to work, worried that you wouldn't be home enough to actually take care of a kitten. Now with Satoru around it will be much easier to raise an animal. His warm breath against your neck and collar bones is relaxing, and the view of him petting and admiring your new kitten is causing butterflies in your stomach. You let out a satisfied hum as it seems life could never be better than it is now. Finally moving in with your long-term boyfriend, having a beautiful home, a stable job, and now a new pet to top it off. It truly feels like you are starting a family with Satoru after all these years..

Would y'all be interested in a part 2?

[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C’mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.

part two: How to Harvest Sunshine

[transvampireboyfriend]

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

Steve and Jonathan go setup the cabin before they start unpacking.

Steve opens the windows, takes off the couch covers and dusts off the coffee tables while Jonathan takes care of toiletries and then they get the bed sets and start making the two bunks and the big bed in the main room.

Steve has mostly shaken off his freak out about Eddie saying all that stuff about him and Steve reacting by practically shoving his fingers in his mouth.

Robin helped. She always does.

She's been telling him to make a move on Eddie for months, but Steve keeps overthinking it.

He likes Eddie so much, it just feels impossible Eddie could like him that way too.

So, whenever Eddie says something like what he said in the car, Steve's head cannot compute it.

It doesn't make sense. Steve came out to them all ages ago. If Eddie thought of him like that, surely he'd have made a move by now, right?

He's the loudest, most unashamed person Steve has ever met, he's so unapologetically himself, he sticks by the stuff he likes no matter what, of course he would've made a move.

But he hasn't. And so he doesn't, Eddie doesn't like Steve like that. He's just nice.

He's so nice.

Of course he's not gonna make a big deal of what Steve did in the car. Steve's still a little embarrassed but he knows Eddie would never give him a hard time over something so silly.

Robin reminded him of that too, as soon as they got out of the car and Steve made mortified eyes at Eddie's back as he watched him go stand by the lake.

"You're kinda drowning in a glass of water there, man," Robin said, ruffling his hair.

Steve laughed, escaping her hand and glaring at her.

"I bet he didn't even think twice of it!" she offered, then when he didn't look convinced, she added "He said a bunch of stuff about you, did you think it was weird?"

Steve shook his head "Of course not. it doesn't have to mean anything"

"Exactly." Robin agreed then, rubbing his back. Steve sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder.

So, Steve is mostly over it now. Robin is right.

But, that doesn't stop Steve from stealing glances at the grill through the bedroom windows, where Eds and Nance are making hot dogs, as him and Jonathan make the beds.

Jon must notice, because when they switch to the second bunk, he comments "You know, you can let him down easy. it doesn't have to be a big deal"

Steve immediately drags his eyes away from Eddie and looks at Jonathan.

"What?" he asks,

"Eddie" Jonathan presses, Steve stammers,

"Wh-?"

"Oh come on, he obviously has a crush on you, man." Jon says, "And it's fine if you don't feel the same you know? you can talk to him as your friend, he's a cool dude- I don't think he'd be-"

Steve finally finds his words and interrupts Jonathan.

"Wait, no. Back up. Eddie doesn't have a crush on me." Steve states.

Jonathan scoffs but when he looks at Steve's face his half smile fades,

"Are you serious?" he asks,

Steve looks around them like his answer is written on the walls.

"Didn't you hear what he said in the car?" Jonathan demands "I thought that was the whole reason you were freaking out!"

"I'm not- I'm not freaking out." Steve excuses "And he doesn't have crush on me, if he did he would have made a move by now" he explains.

Jonathan gapes at him for a bit before he answers.

"Okay, one: you have not stopped looking at him since we got out of the car;" Jon notes, "And two: you flirt with all of us except him, you shut him down when he gives you a compliment and you always refuse to dance with him when we go out. Why would he make a move?"

Steve feels his eyes go wide and his stomach drop.

"Shit. Do I?" he asks "No, I don't flirt with you guys" he adds,

Jonathan snorts and gives him a non-plussed look.

Fuck. Okay maybe he does, it's a past-time of his, sue him.

"I-" Steve scrambles "How do I shut down his compliments? I don't do that" he tries,

"You cough and redirect or you laugh and deflect," Jonathan supplies, apparently had those at the ready, damn.

"I didn't do that in the car" Steve counters,

"Robin changed the topic. And you two share a brain" Jonathan states,

Steve covers his eyes with a hand. He hoped it hadn't been that obvious.

"Ohmygod. Fuck. And I do refuse to dance with him" Steve remembers, he's afraid Eddie will figure him out if that ever happens,

"Uh huh, but you dance with us," Jonathan reminds him,

So Eddie had made a move. Several, if Jon's to be believed.

"Fuck. Fuck. Eddie thinks I don't like him," Steve realizes, "Eddie might be attracted to me and he thinks I don't like him at all" Steve despairs,

"I mean," Jonathan placates, "you do spend a lot of time together, I'm sure he knows you like him"

With this realization, at the sight of the tiniest possibility, Steve feels his despair dissolve every excuse he's ever had to hide his feelings.

"No," Steve explains, dragging his hand down his face "No, he thinks I don't like him like that. He doesn't know I'm attracted to him!"

"Wait. You are?"

"Yeah!" Steve confirms, "It's the reason I freak out around him! I can't trust I won't throw myself at him if we dance and I'm always embarrassed of my reactions to him flirting or complimenting me cause I don't want him to find out. I don't wanna ruin our friendship" Steve explains

"Oh." is Jon's helpful reaction.

"Yeah, oh." Steve says,

"How are you so sure he has a crush on me?" he asks Jonathan after a bit,

"Well," Jonathan starts " First of all, who doesn't?"

Steve laughs despite himself "Shut. Up!" he says, balling up the sheet in his hands and throwing it at Jonathan's head, he dodges it easily and picks it back up.

"Second of all," Jon continues, like there was no interruption, "everything Eddie said in the car. And third, just how he generally acts with you." Jonathan shrugs, like it's so obvious, "He shares his songs with you first, he always lets you pick the movie, he cooks your favorite meals, he makes us buy your favorite dessert, I could go on, it's no very hard to tell,"

"And yet-" Steve interjects, laughing a tad bitterly.

"Give yourself a break, Steve." Jonathan tells him, "Nobody thinks straight when they have a crush,"

"Har har" Steve deadpans at the pun.

"That was completely unintended, I swear." Jonathan defends, "I meant it's not hard to tell from the outside. I bet if you really thought of it you could come up with signs you've missed too",

"I don't wanna assume-" Steve muses,

"Then don't." Jonathan tells him, "That was more or less what I was gonna tell you anyways, only now its the opposite"

Steve gives him a confused look.

"Just- You don't have to go ask him out this second," Jonathan explains, "you can just start letting him see that you find him attractive. You said your reactions embarrass you, you keep hiding them, I bet he'd love to see them if we're right about how he feels." Jonathan goes on,

Steve thinks about all the redirecting and hiding he does with Eddie, just so he doesn't find out Steve feels this way about him. If he has a chance to be with Eddie he knows exactly where to start.

"And if we're wrong he won't be an asshole about it." Jonathan says, "I'm 100% sure of that. You can have a big conversation if you want but I know that can be hard, so you can do easier stuff first"

"Like flirt with him" Steve supplies, maybe a little too excited by the prospect.

"Exactly." Jonathan smiles, "Helps that you're not bad at that",

"I'm not the only one" Steve shoots back with a wink.

Jonathan laughs, "There it is" he says, throwing the balled up sheet back at Steve.

Steve chuckles and catches it easily, "Okay. Alright, then. This- I can do this" he states.

"Yeah." Jonathan agrees, "Don't think of it like a huge change, just remember you're only letting him in a little bit, trying to figure out if he feels the same, and if he doesn't, that's cool," he reminds him.

"Yeah." Steve repeats, "Yeah you're right. That makes sense." he agrees,

"I mean it doesn't." Steve adds, "I can't believe he might be attracted to me but- thanks, man. I really appreciate it"

Jonathan smiles and reaches out to clap his shoulder "Anytime, dude. You're my friend, you can talk to me whenever, I'll be happy to listen." he says. Steve can't help thinking Will is so lucky to have him as a brother.

"You're really good at this." Steve tells him, "But, you know, I'm here for you too man, anytime." he offers.

"Thanks, Steve" Jonathan smiles,

Steve smiles back and untangles the bedsheet in his hands, and then they get back to work on the second bunk.

part 4

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I make my boyfriend move out of my apartment?

My (27F) boyfriend (28M) has never lived on his own and moved into my apartment straight from his parent's house a little less than a year ago.

Before I get into it: I do not want to stop dating my Boyfriend. I just don't know if I can keep living with him in a shared space. Before he moved in I wasn't fully unpacked or moved in because there was a lot of furniture I didn't own. I kept everything clean though. Dishes got done in a timely manner, I was able to vacuum all the carpets and wash my clothes on a weekly basis and my cats were get their boxes scooped on the daily, and trash would be taken out as needed, usually every 3rd day when I was living solo.

However when my boyfriend moved in the apartment started getting messier and messier. We both have full time jobs and I kept assuring him that I could keep doing the majority of the chores provided he did SOME of the chores. I gave him with a list of everything that should be getting done on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. He selected more than half of the tasks and I was like "okay this isn't what I asked you to do but if you're okay with it that's fine by me!"

Fast forward two months later and everything is a fucking wreck.

I've been able to keep up with laundry but there are a lot of chores I can't do if the trash doesn't get taken out or if the sink is full of dishes. Two of the chored my BF selected. I can't empty the vacuum cleaner or wash the vacuum's filters, I can't scoop the cats' litterboxes and throw away their leavings or wiped own the litter boxes on dump-day and worst of all I can't cook dinner every day as I WANT to do and ENJOY doing when all my pots pans and plates are dirty.

I've tried asking him multiple times to do just these two chores, trash and dishes, and I'll take care of everything else but he just doesn't. The apartment has slowly gotten so disgusting that it's beginning to effect my already delicate mental health.

The worst of it started when I injured my back and could barely walk to the toilet. I couldn't go to work for a full week and I couldn't bend or twist my torso for nearly a month. In that time laundry piled up and my boyfriend never did any of it even though I would ask him too. That was nearly 6 months ago and I'm STILL trying to get caught up on laundry.

Even though all of THAT is happening I still can't bring myself to ask him to do the dishes or take out the trash more than like once a week. His mom is a really mean person and I feel like I'm nagging him the same way his mother does when I ask too frequently.

All that in mind: would I be the asshole if I kept dating my Boyfriend but asked him to find his own place to live?

What are these acronyms?

[booksooks]

𝑳𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓: 𝑫𝒂𝒚 1

Author's Note:

Hi friends, it's been a long long time since I've written anything on tumblr but! I'm a lot less burnt out now, and I miss writing. So here we are, three years and a new blog (you may have known me as lirinstaalem) later, writing for Shigaraki. He lives on in my heart. 💙 As a forewarning, in this AU, there are no Quirks, Shigaraki is just that - Shigaraki Tomura, a junior in college. I'm going to be honest, this series is going to be entirely based off me and my personal experience at college, written one day at a time. Please enjoy. Manga pannel from @shigarakisankles, and divider by @plum98

Contents: College!AU, all characters depicted are STRICTLY 18+, no use of "Y/N"/any other variants, and possibly wildly ooc characters. I apologize for this.

Word Count: 2027

Summary: Entering your second year at college, only a few months after being broken up with, you weren't expecting anything special. Especially not in the romance department. But then a quiet, but friendly-enough boy on your floor catches your attention faster than you would like to admit. And oh, boy, are you in deep.

Moving into your sophomore college dorm wasn’t nearly as exciting as it was during your freshman year. Freshman year had been all giggles and excitedly greeting your roommate, excitedly setting up your half of the room, coordinating aesthetics to look cutesy and academic. Both of your parents had taken off work to help you move furniture around and get settled in, and everyone had been teary-eyed when they left you and your roommate alone. Everyone on your floor had been friendly, ish, and were about as giggly and excited as you were, and the floor meeting had been welcoming and informational.

Second year… not as much. Only your dad had taken off work, and it was really only to help you move furniture and get everything out of your car into the room, and you suspected that it was only because you had stupidly slammed your thumb in the door of your car a few days ago and it was now swollen and splinted. Not broken, thank goodness, but still painful as all get out.

He left with a hug, and a quick goodbye, and left you to pretty much fend for yourself. You rubbed at your eyes and quickly started unpacking, starting with any documents you needed for the year. Things were actually going pretty well, considering you were alone. Your roommate hadn’t arrived yet, so you had the ability to pick which side of the room you wanted and where you wanted everything. There was a small commotion outside in the hall, but it wasn’t any of your business, so you were content to stay inside, introvert that you were. That was until -

“FUCK!”

You jumped as the expletive rang through the hall, yelled by a raspy, masculine voice. You knew the dorm buildings were coed, but you had no idea if the floors were coed or not, but it sounded like it if there were boys running amok on your level, shouting. You sighed in resignation - last year the boys had only been above you and were annoying as hell. Living a whole year with them on the same floor?

…What was worse than hell? You didn’t know. You stuck your head out of your door and saw two men, presumably the culprits. One was lying on his back on the hard linoleum floor, the other wheezing with his hands on his knees. The man on the floor was making a vaguely-scowly expression at the laughing man, his pale blue hair spread out around his head like a halo.

“Oh my fuckin’ God, Shiggy, you’re an idiot!” Laughing Man exclaimed, inhaling deeply before laughing just as hard again. Piercings pulled at his open mouth as he cackled, fluffy black hair bouncing almost imperceptibly with each breath. He looked like every scene girl's wet dream, dripped out in all black, shining piercings and inky tattoos, his electric blue eyes the only contrast.

The man on the floor, “Shiggy”, grumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Shut up,” as he curled in on himself and hopped to his feet, looking more than a little embarrassed. He was wearing all black, matching Laughing Man in a more casual way, in a set of soft black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. He radiated vibes of “I haven’t spoken to a love interest before, let alone touched one.” Before you could stop yourself, you called out.

“You okay?”

Both men turned their attention to you, only just now noticing your presence. “Shiggy” huffed and looked away, embarrassed, and Laughing Man smiled at you. It wasn’t the most comforting smile you’d ever seen. “He’s fine,” Laughing Man said. “He’s just an idiot who slipped and fell. Name’s Dabi, and this is Shigaraki.”

You stepped out of your room a little more, leaning over to poke your head out becoming uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you,” you called back, introducing yourself. They both nodded at you, moving out of the way temporarily as someone with several bags and carts and suitcases scuttled past.

“We’re in room 301, if you ever want some company,” Dabi says, once the person is out of sight, hooking his thumb over his shoulder towards what you assumed was their room. You nodded and smiled at the two of them, and another sentence tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop and think about what you were saying, again.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Dabi chuckled, and nudged Shigaraki, who was finally looking in your direction, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Cool,” was all he said, and you didn’t even know if you heard him properly he had said it so quietly. You smiled at them and then ducked back into your room, shaking off the distraction and how… quite honestly pathetic Shigaraki had appeared. You understood that people were quiet or introverted, hell you were too, but he had only said one word to you, barely. He was entirely unable to meet your gaze, and if you were closer you could have maybe discerned if he had been blushing or not.

Good thing your type was pathetic men who’d never even talked to a girl, let alone kissed one.

Several hours later, your roommate had arrived and you had helped her unpack, neglecting your own side of the room. Being a junior, Hanami’s mother had left her to settle in on her own, and you were itching to just help. So you had rearranged furniture, hung fairy lights, and subsequently realized you had forgotten a good amount of your decorations at home, much to your dismay. You did your best to shake it off; you were going back home over the weekend anyway.

Hanami was a good roommate already, you had decided the moment she walked through the door. About the same height as you, she had short, wavy brown hair and an easygoing smile. She was also incredibly generous, offering to buy you food and even letting you use some of her decor in the short time you didn’t have yours. You both went out for lunch and to gather snacks for the next few weeks, spending a good amount of money at the local supermarket. Going shopping while hungry was never a good idea, but you knew your future selves would be grateful.

It only wasn’t until when you were finally unpacking, that you realized something with only a slight tinge of abject horror. “Fuck,” you mumbled, moving from one box to another, searching a little desperately. “Where are they…?”

“What are you looking for?” Hanami asked from her bed, putting the finishing touches on her faux-vine decorated wall.

“I forgot. Hangers.” You say, sighing in resignation. “Fuck me.”

Hanami pouted and hummed sympathetically from her spot. “Aw, I’m sorry. I would offer you some of mine but I’m using them all.”

You shake your head and accept the fact that none of your sweaters or pants were going to be hung up until the next Monday. “It’s fine, I’m the one who forgot them.”

You spend the next few minutes trying to shove your jeans into a small drawer, one too small for the amount of pants you had brought with you and had intended to hang. After several unsuccessful attempts, you text your parents, asking if they knew where your hangers were; you had bought a set specifically for college. Your mom responded almost instantly, reminding you that they had gone into the guest room for your grandmother, only to be forgotten when September rolled around. It wouldn’t have been a problem, you were going home on Friday anyway, but you were a stickler for your clothes not getting wrinkled. You sat on your relatively uncomfortable chair, when an idea popped into your head. You didn’t know how well-supplied boys would be, but it was better than sitting there and wallowing, right?

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Hanami, pulling on your sneakers and heading out the door. You hear a faint “okay!” from behind you as you scamper down the hall, looking for room 301.

When you do eventually stumble on it, (seriously, how was a dorm this convoluted? It was supposed to just house people for God’s sake) you hesitate. Was asking people you just met for hangers too forward? You rolled your shoulders to get rid of any nerves and knocked on the door without too many second thoughts, swallowing nervously.

Several seconds of rapid shuffling and someone, Dabi it sounded like, shouted, “Just a sec!”

You stood there and waited for a few more seconds before the door was almost violently ripped open, barely, and to your surprise Shigaraki was standing there. He took up most of the miniscule opening, blocking your view further into the room.

“Oh, hi,” you said quietly.

Shigaraki opened his mouth, as if to say something, but all that came out was a squeaky, “What?”

He started scratching at his neck, like he had been in the hallway earlier.

“I uh,” you hesitated, ashamed all of a sudden. “I was wondering if you had any spare hangers? I forgot literally all of mine at home, and I don’t really have any other friends in the building… I swear I’ll give them back to you next week.”

Shigaraki stared at you blankly, almost as if he hadn’t heard you, and you shifted your weight from foot to foot awkwardly. You heard a cough from inside the room, and that seemed to snap Shigaraki out of whatever daze he was in.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, stepping away, leaving the door open just a smidge. You peered into the room, noticing how dark it was inside.

A heavy duty gaming pc tower took up a good majority of the university-issued desk, and the remaining space was already covered in… junk. Monster cans, mostly, but a few empty bowls of microwave ramen were scattered around. How on God’s green earth had he gotten the time to accumulate that much trash?

You didn’t have any more time to think about it, however, as Shigaraki popped back up, a handful of hangers clutched in his long, thin fingers. “Here,” he muttered, shoving them in your direction.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling gratefully at him. “Did you get an early move in clearance?”

Why the fuck did you ask that? What was wrong with you, holy shit. He was going to slam the door in your face and never want to talk to you again.

“Yeah,” Shigaraki said after only a moment’s hesitation. “How did you know?”

“I uh.” Now it’s your turn to hesitate. “I saw your gaming tower. That must have taken a while to set up.”

It was a shitty excuse of a lie, you knew that. But even if Shigaraki knew that, which he most certainly had to, he didn’t comment.

Instead, he nodded, but he didn’t open the door further or invite you in. You both stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then you nodded and smiled sheepishly at him. “Well, I’ll be off. Thanks again for the hangers, I’ll give them back to you after I go home and get my own.”

Shigaraki nodded back at you, and closed the door as you took a step back, waiting a second longer just in case. The door didn’t open again, and you didn’t know why you wanted it to. Instead, you heard a long suffering sigh, a cackle, and the sound of something heavy hitting springs.

You waited for another few seconds, and then turned around to try and find your way back to your room. It took less time than you had expected, and Hanami was now sitting on her bed, scrolling on her phone. She looked up brightly when you entered.

“Oh hey, you found hangers!”

You smiled and waved said hangers triumphantly. “Yeah, I made a few friends earlier so they lent me some.”

“Oh, that’s lucky!” Hanami seemed to radiate positivity, and it spread to you quickly. You soon forgot about the odd but somehow endearing interaction with the boy down the hall, his seemingly permanently pink cheeks filed away to think about for later.

End Notes: I really hope everyone who reads this can enjoy, I just want to write something feel goody and relaxing. Please feel free to ask me questions about this AU, or to even criticize my characterization of either Dabi or Shigaraki. I want this to be as accurate as it can be. Thank you for reading! 💙

Next Chapter

AO3 Link

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

[up-to-some-good]

written for @wolfstarmicrofic - November 13th Feeble

It was raining, because of course it was. It wasn't just a drizzle either. No, it was absolutely pouring as Remus walked to Sirius's apartment building. It was like the weather had decided to add some dramatic effect to the moment, as if the ongoing war wasn't dramatic enough.

For reasons he couldn't explain, he decided to walk the whole way and his umbrella had mysteriously disappeared the last time James had been over for drinks, so by the time Remus arrived at the door he was completely drenched and feeling quite feeble.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself before knocking. He heard a thump and muffled curse as Sirius made his way to the door before it swung open.

"What the fuck do you - Remus?" Sirius looked up at him in surprise, wand still pointed at his chest. "What are you doing here?"

It was a fair question. They hadn't seen each other outside of Order meetings since Sirius had moved out of their shared apartment a few month ago.

"I... Ask the security question," Remus answered. "I have to ask you something."

"You have to ask me something?" Sirius asked incredulously. "At 2:14am on a Tuesday. It couldn't wait?"

Remus sighed and crossed his arms, shivering as the cold set in.

"No, it couldn't. Could you just ask the question so I can come in and dry off?"

Sirius waved his wand, casting drying and warming charms on his friend before turning around and walking into the apartment.

"Is this a tea or whiskey conversation?" he called back at Remus.

"You're not going to ask a security question? What if I were a Death Eater?" Remus asked, walking cautiously through the doorway.

"Only the real Remus would have no qualms about walking through a storm and waking me up before dawn to ask a single question," Sirius answered, leaning back on his kitchen counters. "Besides, a Death Eater would have killed me by now. Tea or whiskey?"

"Tea, please."

Remus made his way to the sofa while Sirius made the tea, taking the chance to look at his friend's apartment for the first time. It was awfully plain, no picture hung up or books on the shelves. A few unpacked boxes were shoved into a corner with Sirius's broom. It hardly looked like someone had been living there for a week, let alone an entire month.

Sirius handed him his tea before curling up on the opposite end of the couch with his own cup.

"What did you want to ask me?"

Remus took one sip of the tea before turning to his friend and taking a deep breath.

"It's got a bit of backstory," he started. "So I need you to just bear with me a bit and let me talk until I finish, because otherwise I'll never get the words out."

Sirius nodded, but stayed silent.

"I got a letter from Dumbledore last night. He wants me to go back undercover in the packs and get them to join our side of the war," Remus continued. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but I couldn't stop thinking about you, and how you've always been there when I've gotten back, even though I never told you what I was doing, and how you won't be there anymore and I just can't stand the thought. It's incredibly selfish, but I want to come home in the middle of the night and see you there, wearing your mismatched pyjamas and sleeping on the couch because you were waiting for me. But I also want you there when I'm not away. I want to wake up next to you and hold you when you wake up from nightmares and get mad at you for stealing my sweaters. I'm sorry for last month. I'm sorry I rejected you and I'm sorry I kicked you out and I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I was surprised and I just reacted and I didn't say what I should have said, which is that I love you too and I do want to be together.

So, with all of that said, will you move out of this half-unpacked apartment and move back home with me? Please?"

Remus looked up at Sirius, making eye contact for the first time since he started speaking. To his surprise, Sirius looked completely calm, if a bit teary-eyed.

"Alright," he responded, quietly.

"Alright?"

"I'll move back," Sirius said. "And I'll steal your sweaters and keep you awake with my nightmares and look after you when you come back, but you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

Sirius put his mug down before leaning towards Remus and taking both of his hands into his own.

"You have to promise to talk to me," he whispered. "Even if you think you're being irrational, even if you're not really supposed to. I need to know what's going on with you, so I can be there for you. Okay?"

"You'll do the same?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Then of course," Remus whispered, pulling Sirius closer. "I promise."

Slowly, as if giving Remus the time to stop him, Sirius leaned in and kissed him. It was nothing heated, nothing demanding, just a simple press of lips that whispered I'm here, I love you. Remus sighed as Sirius pulled away, finally feeling his heart rate settle.

"Let's go home, my love."

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Ribs | Gaz X Nina AU

This is a little sampling of the restaurant AU I've been drabbling in my docs for months now. Gaz and Nina are basically childhood friends and the same age so 26ish. Their dad's were in the military with Price, who now runs the restaurant they both work at. It's pretty much just smut and banter. Enjoy 💞

"Didn't think you were ever going to buzz me in," Kyle said walking into Nina's flat. He had a large brown paper bag in one hand and bottle of wine in the other.

"You brought me food." She shrugged, already grabbing plates and glasses. Her flat was small railway studio. The kitchen on the far wall, a small dining area followed by a couch the blocked off the living area which then backed into a foldable room divider that her bed sat behind. The singular bathroom was on the other wall. Kyle wasn't a huge fan of it, always felt cramped, except for the large windows on the one side that always let in light either from the sun or surrounding city.

"Is that all you want me for? Food?" He asked, purposefully pressing himself against her back as he placed the bag on the counter.

"You're good for other things, I guess."

"Like covering your shifts?"

"Definitely that." She elbowed him gently to move him out of the way as she unpacked the bag. "How was tonight?"

"Fine. It's a Tuesday," He shrugged as he opened up the wine bottle.

"Was Price pissed off?"

"Like he could be mad at you." He poured for both of them. "He might be upset I stole this bottle though."

"No one was going to drink this anyways." They clinked glasses and drank, eyeing each other over the edge of the glasses. They both finished, Nina first, winning at their unspoken competition. She handed him his plate. "You pick the movie?"

"I always pick the movie," He said.

"That's because you say my choices are garbage." She climbed over the back of the couch. Kyle walked around and sat down next to her, shoving the wine bottle between the cushions.

"That's because you only want to watch old James Bond films."

"They're good!"

"Not the ones you like." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. He took the remote in one hand and started flipping through all the options.

"How about this one?" He asked.

"Heard it was shite." She used her fork to pick up a bite of pasta from his plate and feed it to him.

"You're impossible," He shook his head.

"I have Die Another Day on blu-ray."

"No."

They eventually settled on a middling comedy that was ignored within twenty minutes.

Half a bottle of wine and Nina was straddling his lap, their empty plates sitting on the coffee table. His hands raking up and down her back as she grinded against him. She tasted like wine and black pepper. He broke the kiss to pull her shirt over her head. It was actually his shirt at one point. One for a band he'd stopped listening to years ago.

He cupped one of her breasts and rolled her nipple between his fingers before taking it in his mouth. He always liked how her body jumped when his tongue first made contact. Her nails found their way to the back of his neck.

"Kyllllllleeee," She moaned. He stopped and rested his chin on her sternum, just above her breasts. She let out a disapointed sigh. "You're an ass."

"You gonna tell me why you didn't come to work today?" He asked, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

"Just an off day," she shrugged.

Kyle rubbed her back. Twenty years of friendship and she still refused to admit she couldn't lie to him. She could lie through her teeth to Price or Kate but never him. He watched her lie her whole childhood.

"You avoiding Ghost?" He asked. It did annoy him how she refused to talk about the older man. They danced around each other in person and in conversation. They went from being at each other's throats, screaming about dishes being remade and speed of orders, to a timid softness. Nods and patience unnatural behaviors from either of them.

"I'm not avoiding Simon." She scoffed.

"Simon? You on a first name basis now?" He held her as she tried to get up, now concerned. "Hey, did something happen? Nina, if he did anything we can tell Price. I don't want you-"

"We slept together. Okay? That's all," She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Is that it?" Kyle arched an eyebrow, he was relieved to say the least. "You could have told me that."

"I felt bad."

"Why would you feel bad? We're not dating, Nina," he chuckled. "You can sleep with whoever you want."

"I know but it's kind of slutty to sleep with a co-worker."

"We're co-workers."

"Yeah but we slept together before that," she laughed.

"Don't tell Price but last week I hooked up with the Irish guy that works at Kors."

"The ginger?" She exclaimed, laying her hands on his chest and leaning in close. "He's hot."

"He is. Name is Declan but they all call him Conor."

"And you were giving me shit for being on a first name basis with Ghost." They laughed and he traced her spine up and down.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asked.

Nina leaned down and brought him back into a kiss.

"Hold on," He grunted, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting them both up from the couch. She giggled into his neck.

"I want to be on top."

"You won't get tired?"

"I'm a big girl, Kyle."

He dropped her on the bed and started to strip. There was a comfort of familiarity. They didn't need to be self conscious or awkward. Nina was his best friend. He knew her inside and out, literally. He still liked to watch her shrug off her sweats and panties. He liked to run his hand over the curve of her ass before smacking back down playfully.

He dug through her nightstand for a condom.

"Let me," she said, taking it from him. He finished stripping as she opened it. She sat on the edge of the bed as he stood in front of her. His thumb resting on her bottom lip as she rolled the condom on. He moaned softly as she stroked him. He pushed his thumb into her mouth and she sucked on it, bobbing her head softly. One of her hands rested on his hip, fingers drumming, while the other continued to stroke him. She rubbed her thighs together.

"Greedy thing, getting wet just from this," he murmured, resting his other hand on the back of her head, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. He always came back to her because it was easy and simple. A comfort food, a comfort fuck. They didn't always fuck when he came over, it was just a bonus.

He sucked in a breath as took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Even through the latex her mouth was hot. She bobbed her head till she had him half way. A string of spit kept her connected as she pulled back.

"I'm sorry. I can't stand the taste," she said, making a face. He laughed and wiped her mouth off. He made a mental note to get tested so they go forgo the condom during foreplay next time.

"You ready?" He asked, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"Lay down," she patted his thigh.

He ruffled her hair as he climbed onto the bed, laying back on her large assortment of pillows. Her bed was always comfortable and smelled clean.

He spread out his legs a little and beckoned her over. She crawled over him, capturing his lips again. He reached a hand between her legs, spreading her open. She was slick. She whimpered into his mouth as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. He chuckled, she was headstrong and stubborn until he had his hands on her. He took his cock and rubbed it through her folds.

"Kyle!" she whined.

"Take what you want, love. You wanted to be on top."

She straightened up, a flush ran from her cheeks down to her stomach. He held her elbow steady as she lowered herself down on his cock. She threw her head back as she sank down. He breathed deeply as he watched his cock disappear inside of her.

"Oh fuck.." She groaned as he bottomed out. Her thighs were already shaking and she had a dazed look on her face.

"Giving up so soon?" He asked, rocking her hips for her.

"Leave me alone. I had two glasses of wine." She groaned, holding his shoulders for support.

"So did I," He grunted as he thrusted upwards. "So much for being a big girl."

He flipped them. She stretched out her arms and closed her eyes, humming contently.

"You're really making me do all your work today, aren't ya?" He growled against her neck.

"I'll make it up to you in the morning," She said, hooking a leg around his waist.

"Are you going to fall asleep again?" He asked, thrusting slowly.

"That was one time," she yawned. "I worked a clopen close that day."

"Just keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he picked up his speed. The headboard bounced against the room divider. He panted against her forehead as he found his rhythm, the kind that had her making a noise to punctuate every thrust. She would clench around him whenever he hit that sweet spot."I love this fucking pussy."

"Is that all you want me for? Pussy?" She teased.

"And your arse." He gave her a light smack on the side of her ass.

He felt his pleasure building up in his stomach and spreading through his back and legs, the muscles becoming taught. Her back was arching and her legs squirmed.

"Cum on my cock, Nina. I need you to cum on my cock," He sucked on her earlobe. She clung to him.

"Oh fuck...Kyle...fuck..."

"Good girl. Cumming for me," He groaned. She always sent him over the edge when she finished. His thrusted hard, grunting into her hair as he came.

They laid there, both panting and him growing soft inside her. She ran her fingers up and down his back, soothing the wounds her nails made. They would shower the next morning, he'd make coffee while she made eggs. It was the usual.

"So, how is The Ghost in bed?" He asked.

"I don't kiss and tell," She answered, rolling her eyes at him.

"That bad?"

She slapped his arm.

"I'm allowed to be curious," he laughed, rolling off of her. "My real question is if you think he'd be down for a threesome."

She gave him a look and rolled her eyes again.

"If not him, there is the new guy."

"New guy?"

"A Scot. I know you like the accent." He poked her shoulder. "You can meet him during clean up night this weekend."

"I'm not working clean up night this weekend."

"You are now. Kleo asked if someone could cover for her and you were nice enough to offer."

"Oh I hate you."

"Simon will be there too."

She groaned.

"You're evil."

"You love me."

"I do." She kissed his cheek and got up from the bed. "You need to clean up before you sleep in my bed."

"Yes, ma'am," He followed.

It was three in the morning by the time they had the lights off and his arms were around her again.

"I wasn't joking about the threesome," he whispered.

"Go to sleep."

Tagging the Gaz and Nina lovers 💕: @water-bearz @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @macravishedbymactavish

Idk If'll post anything else in this AU but if I do it'll probably be more smut.

[pluckydean]

the other day i asked for ted/trent prompts and y'all came through! this ficlet ended up being a combo of three different prompts, so it's dedicated to the anon who requested kissing in the rain, the anon who suggested that trent share some info about his book, and @casismybestfriend who wanted to see them baking together.

ao3 link

It was as if Ted blinked and suddenly had one week left in England. He'd announced his imminent departure a month ago; first to Rebecca and his coaching staff, then to the team, and finally to the press.

But now, standing in his kitchen and unpacking what he needed from the boxes stacked in the corner, it felt real.

A final week, a final match, a final batch of biscuits for the boss.

He could feel the panic clawing its way from his head to his heart to his hands. He looked down at them and tried to think of Henry. God, but he missed his son. To get back to seeing him on the daily would be a relief.

How could he weigh that against all he would be leaving behind?

A knock at the door disrupted his spiraling thoughts.

He couldn't fathom who would come a callin' at this late hour. Beard, who had yet to give Ted an answer on whether he was coming back to Kansas with him, was bound to be out with Jane. It was rare to have any other visitor to his apartment. Flat. He hadn't… connected with Sassy in weeks.

Taking a deep breath he went to open the door.

"Oh," he said in surprise. "Hey, there Trent." The confusion that washed over him was just enough to curb his building anxiety.

"Ted," Trent said with a small smile, ducking his head against the rain.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ted asked, opening the door wide to welcome him in.

Trent stepped inside and turned slowly, clearly taking in the moving boxes and the general empty feeling of the flat. "I won't take up much of your time," he said. "You must be busy." His eyes flicked down to Ted's Kiss the Cook apron. "I only wanted to deliver this."

Ted looked at the dark blue folder in Trent's hand. "Aw, shucks." He grinned. "And here I didn't get you anything."

Trent's face was serious. "It's not a going-away gift, Ted. In fact, I'm hopeful it will have the opposite effect."

Ted's confusion only grew, but if there was one thing he didn't want to think about right now it was his impending departure. "Well I'd hate for you to come all this way and leave empty handed. I was just whipping up some biscuits and there'll be plenty to go around if you've got some time to spare."

He didn't take the folder, but Trent followed him to the kitchen and placed it on the counter.

"So," Ted said lightly, "how's your little dependent?"

Trent smiled. "Very excited to begin her summer holiday next week."

"Mm," Ted agreed, "that's the great thing about being a kid, isn't it? Getting all those long breaks to recharge your brain and get up to mischief."

Henry had been excited to come spend half the summer in London, but Ted had promised they'd find something just as exciting to do in the States. He still hadn't figured out what that would be.

"I can't imagine you getting up to much mischief in your youth," Trent teased.

Ted shrugged. "Not much to be found in Kansas. Do me a favor and fill that measuring cup there with flour." Ted held the mixing bowl cradled to his body and began whipping the butter and sugar together with a wooden spoon. The physical exertion felt good. Calmed the buzzing in his mind.

"Do you need me to add some in?" Trent asked, holding the flour.

"Nah, salt and vanilla first." Ted nodded his head toward the small measuring spoon he had laid out next to the ingredients. "Only fill it about halfway for the salt, and then the whole thing with vanilla."

Trent followed his instructions with the serious determination of one defusing a bomb.

He stepped close to upturn the measuring spoon over Ted's bowl and returned a few moments later to dispense the vanilla extract.

"We'll make a baker of you yet," Ted said with a smile.

"Oh, I highly doubt that." Trent leaned against the counter and waited, having traded the measuring spoon for the cup full of flour. "No, I take that back. If anyone could, it would certainly be you." He smiled at Ted.

The compliment pleased Ted right down to his toes, but he was embarrassed to feel the heat of a blush across his face. "I, uh, could use some flour now," he said hastily.

Trent obliged, tipping half of the flour into his bowl.

"My mom taught me this recipe," Ted found himself saying. "First one she ever taught me. We used to bake together a lot after, uh, when I was a teenager."

Trent hummed. "Is this something you do with Henry then?"

"Naw, he's latched onto my love of sports instead." He tries not to think of when he called Henry to tell him he was coming home.

('You're not gonna coach football anymore?' Henry had asked, looking disappointed.

'Well I thought I'd come back home and coach some American football instead,' Ted replied, though he really hadn't been thinking that at all. He didn't have a plan.

Henry had grumbled that football was better and had tried to get Ted to book him a flight so he could cheer on Richmond one last time. Ted and Michelle had agreed that it would be too much school missed at the crucial end of the year. He hoped Henry would stop giving him the cold shoulder when he got back to Kansas.)

Instead he focused on bringing the dough together, and asked Trent to add the last of the flour.

When the dough was perfect and crumbly, Ted scooped it into the waiting pan, pressed it evenly, and got it chilling in the fridge. Trent watched the process silently, and Ted convinced himself that he was imagining the tension building between them.

"I may take a raincheck on the biscuits," Trent said. "I really only came to bring this," he rested a hand on the folder, "and to… explain."

The anxiety Ted had been fighting rose to the surface again. He wished he had something to do with his hands.

He cleared his throat. "What is it?" He stared at Trent’s hand, barely seeing the folder beneath.

There was a long pause before Trent answered. "It's full of letters." He picked up the folder and held it out until Ted finally took it. "The players, Roy and Beard, Rebecca, even Will… each wrote you a letter that they've asked me to include in the book. I didn't think you should wait that long to read them." Trent hesitated. "There's not a letter from me in there."

Ted glanced at him, desperate to lighten the mood. "You sayin' you're not gonna miss me, Trent?" He grinned but his heart wasn't in it. The folder felt heavy in his hands.

"I prefer to deliver my message in person," Trent said, and his steady gaze was suddenly holding Ted in place.

There was the smallest of pauses, in which Ted's heart began beating faster than a hummingbird's wings.

"It's a sentiment shared by everyone here," Trent reached out to tap the folder, "but I hope you'll take my full meaning when I say… I love you. I fell in love with you nearly from our very first encounter, and more so with every meeting since."

Ted watched as Trent let out a breath and his whole body seemed to relax with it. He found it impossible to look away from those warm brown eyes.

He also found it impossible to speak.

Trent smiled sadly. "I couldn't let you leave without telling you."

And still Ted's words failed him.

Trent loved him. Trent loved him. Trent loved him.

The words swirled around his head, moving memories around like puzzle pieces.

Trent loved him. Trent scraping the food from his plate onto Ted's as both their mouths burned. Trent loved him. Trent delivering a homemade thank you card from his daughter for her birthday biscuits. Trent loved him. Trent ending his career to search for new passion and parroting back Ted's own "love our chats". Trent loved him. Trent's quiet and sincere presence at Richmond, the increasing frequency of their talks, his enthusiasm and encouragement.

And Ted knew, didn't he? He'd recognized the flirtations and responded in kind, hadn't he?

"Good night, Ted," Trent said very quietly, slipping out the flat before Ted knew what was what.

Because if he was honest with himself- more honest than he usually liked to be- it was obvious.

Ted loved him.

It wasn't a revelation as much as it was an admission of the feeling he'd been hiding in his heart all this time.

Ted stood there, frozen in the silence.

His hands tightened on the folder. It was full of love and gratitude from all the lives he had touched here. Yet he'd guarded his own heart from being touched, always kept himself just far enough removed from feeling it so it would hurt less when they inevitably parted. And he hadn't even realized.

Now that he had taken a good look at his heart, he found that it was breaking.

He made a desperate effort to follow Trent through the door. "Trent!" Ted called, relieved to see he hadn't gotten far down the street. But then his words seemed to die in his throat when Trent turned back to him. "I… aren't you going to kiss the cook?" he asked stupidly, gesturing to his apron.

Trent blinked once at him before his face broke into a wide smile that scrunched his nose. Without another word, he took several quick steps into Ted's space and touched his jaw with the tips of his fingers. Ted's eyes fluttered shut.

The press of Trent's lips against his was soft and sweet and made his stomach flip in a way it hadn't done in years.

Ted wrapped his arms around Trent and pulled him close, pressing the folder full of letters flat against his back, and despite the rain coming down around them Ted couldn't help but feel like he was basking in sunshine.

He could make this work, somehow. He would make this work. Only a fool would turn away from so much love. And despite what many people thought, Ted wasn't a fool.

Except maybe a fool in love, he thought giddily. But he was a-okay with that.

[sophasauras]

When lives combine

Chapter 1- The beginning

After, three hours of waiting around in a packed humid airport plus five and a half hours in the air, my flight from sunny Florida finally landed in very rainy Forks. As much as it sucks, I'm happy to have left my mom and her new fiancé behind for a while, to go and live with my older brother Jared in Lapush. I've really missed him, we text and FaceTime each other daily, but it's not the same than being physically with him. My father passed away which devastated my whole family. A few years later my Mom met her fiancé, which is great, I mean she deserves to be happy and she's now extremely happy with him. A few years after my Fathers passing, and once Jared was of legal age my Mom and her Fiancé made the decision to start fresh and move away to Florida, Jared decided to stay in Lapush but as I wasn't old enough to decide for myself, I had to go with my Mom and her Fiancé. My Mom and her fiancé have decided to move again after he was offered a new job somewhere in Texas so this time instead of moving away with them again i've decided to move back home . I'm honestly feeling really optimistic, looking forward to the new start, new memories and new adventures. There's definitely slight nerves mixed in there too though, being away from Mom, and plus I haven't physically been around my brother in forever.

Anyway, what was I meant to be doing again? Oh right, Jared, flight landed.

To J- Yoo J, I've just to get my case but yeah, i've landed! Where abouts are you??? x

From J- Yoooo baby sis, ok cool, just pulling up outside now, i'll be in, in a sec, grab your case then meet me by the door!

I grabbed my case and wheeled it carefully (to avoid running over a small child or knocking in to anyone around me) down the tiled floor of the airport towards the exit. Whilst I waited for Jared I couldn't help but look around me, it always amazes me, all the different families, friends or lovers who are reunited at airports from potentially different parts of the world. Some in tears, others hugging or holding hands. Maybe it's been weeks, months or even years since they've seen eachother, and yet today is the day they can finally be reunited again. Today was my day to, after years of being away from Lapush and Jared today was the day I was finally going to be reunited with my brother again.

Just as my eyes had spotted a very tempting vending machine I turned around to the sound of "CASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" being shouted by a voice I could never forget even if I wanted to. "Oh my god, is that actually you?" He ran over to me, picked me up and I was spun around before set back down carefully to the floor. He grabbed my case for me and we headed towards his truck.

After finally getting out of airport car park we were finally on our way to Jared's. "So sis, i'm not gonna lie, i'm really happy you're here, i've really missed you being around." I stopped looking out at the rain "Yeah, honestly same here J, i've missed your annoying ass too, it's good to be here, it's strange, even though i've been with Mom, and we left a while ago, Florida has just never felt like home." He grinned, "Celebratory McDonalds?" I pretended to think about it, "I don't think i'll ever say no to a milkshake and nuggets." He laughed, and I did to before I went back to looking out my window.

Honestly came to the life conclusion that you can never go wrong with a strawberry shake and chicken nuggets. After we'd devoured our McDonalds we eventually made it back to Jared's where I was in my bedroom unpacking some of my things. Whilst doing so I realised how cold I was. Even though it was still the Summer, Lapush Summers were definitely alot colder than Florida Summers and I was already freezing, despite my waterproof coat and long sleeved top and leggings combo. I was glad to be out of the rain and in Jared's/my new home where it was warm, and a warm bath later sounded perfect. Something I'd noticed is that I had about four layers on, due to the fact that I was freezing, Jared however, had a literal tee-shirt on and was still roasting, when we hugged in the airport I swear I felt his body heat. There's no way that was normal. Was he sick and not telling me? Was I that used to hot Florida weather that slight rain made me freeing, and Jared being used to Lapush weather had adapted and that's why he was so warm? Was he on drugs? Was he a secret polar bear in disguise, and his body temperature helped adapt to survive in colder weather?

Honestly who knows with brothers, i'll question him later. I was so busy with all the thoughts going on I didn't hear the knock on my bedroom door. The door was open anyway, but it was nice that he still decided to knock in order to prevent me having a heart attack. He looked sheepish. "So Cass, I know you've literally just go here, and i'm sorry to be a shitty brother to do this on your first night here, but I sort of have a...a thing tonight, so i'll be away all night, will you be good here on your own?" Away all night, what? "Omg Jared, I can't believe you are doing this! ITS MY FIRST NIGHT BACK HERE AND YOU'RE DITCHING ME. ME. YOUR BABY SISTER." I pretended to be annoyed, which lasted for three seconds. "Chill J, i'm messing, ofcourse it's fine." I laughed at his facial expression. Once he realised I was laughing at him he laughed to. "Am I allowed to know where you're going? Work? You getting laid? Better not be ditching your baby sis for some chick." He looked at me dead in the eye "It's just work Cass, don't worry."

So, chapter 1 is done. This was like an intro chapter to his sister actually arriving in Lapush and a bit of backround on some things, more will be revealed in the story if you want me to continue with it. I'm so nervous about posting this. So yes, Jared's little sister is called Cassidy. She grew up in Lapush until her Dad passed and then moved away with her Mom and fiancé to Florida years ago, Jared was of legal age and decided to stay in Lapush instead. Cassidy is nearly finished high school, i'm saying nothing. Where was Jared off to hmmm? Why was he so hot? You and I know, Cass just dosen't know yet. Thanks for reading. Let me know if I should continue, as explained this was just like an intro chapter.

Word Count: 1028

[captainsjack]

📓 describe a fic any fic. mayhaps something mi??

hngngg ok ok this is so hard to just pick one, but the one i'm currently most thinking about (and have written a total of 0%) is my fake death au!

so basically, it takes place around the same time as fallout, sort of in place of it. and benji and ethan have been dating for a while (idk how long maybe a year or two). it's all ethan pov btw. and one day benji goes to the grocery store and ethan's at home cooking dinner and he's waiting for benji to come back. but then he gets a call from the hospital saying benji's been in a crash and he needs to come down there. except when ethan gets there they tell him benji was pronounced dead on the scene and there wasn't anything they could do.

so like ethan goes back home to this cold, half-cooked dinner and is completely numb. he isolates himself and lays in bed and just. barely exists for a few days before luther & brandt come over looking for him and benji bc they haven't been at work for a while. and they find ethan in bed, barely moving, and eventually he tells them that benji died. ("where's benji?" "the crematorium. i'm supposed to pick him up on tuesday.")

(i forgot to mention that after these first few days, ethan takes a ring from benji's laptop case and puts it on. benji was going to propose to him. he hadn't yet, and he didn't know ethan knew he was going to, but ethan had figured it out weeks ago and was forcing himself to wait for benji to actually propose and not just say yes the moment he figured it out. only now, benji will never get the chance. and so ethan puts on the ring in an attempt to tell benji yes, yes of course he wants to marry him, it's the only thing he's ever wanted, even though benji isn't there to hear him say yes).

then basically like yeah. it's just about ethan going through the stages of grief (i was thinking maybe a chapter per stage??). luther, brandt, & ilsa plan the funeral and take care of ethan because he's not himself. ethan refuses to write the eulogy and luther has to beg him to because this is benji, and it shouldn't come from anyone else. eventually ethan agrees, but he isn't actually able to write anything other than 'benji' at the top of the paper and nothing else. there's the funeral. ethan speaks last. he gets up to the podium and stares at the almost blank sheet of paper. he looks out at the crowd for a few moments, and then just walks away. he leaves. drives for days, weeks, out to california. stops in random safe houses and lives there sometimes. he ditches his phone and all communication. goes through the anger and bargaining stages until he gets to california. gets an apartment there. sends all his stuff over from dc but can't unpack any of it because it's all benji's too. so he lives in this empty apartment full of boxes and can't even sleep in the bed because it's the bed he shared with benji. he slips into this deep deep depression, and it's not until like 6 months later that he actually speaks to another human being because luther shows up at his door one night. ("i've already lost one friend. i didn't think i was going to lose two.")

and so luther stays. for months. ethan's not receptive at first, but luther takes care of him and gets him into therapy, and, slowly, ethan gets better. he feels sort of alive again. luther eventually moves out and into his own apartment a few blocks away from ethan. on the one year anniversary of benji's death, ethan visits his grave for the first time. (he and luther fly back to dc for a visit. ethan sees ilsa and brandt for the first time in a year too).

then ethan finally reaches acceptance and has to learn how to live his life without benji. about two years in, ethan goes back to the imf, but stays located in california. he still can't go back to dc for more than a few days because each place there holds too many memories of benji. luther retired when benji died, and he still lives in california with ethan. ilsa and brandt visit them frequently. ethan visits benji each anniversary of his passing. he still wears the ring.

then it's almost four years since benji died. ethan's called on a mission. they're tracking down the last group of the apostles. when ethan infiltrates their base, he comes face to face with none other than benji. (i have this really cool scene in my head where the apostles attack ethan and hold him captive for a hot sec and tell benji to kill him and get rid of him. and ethan thinks he's gonna do it but then six shots fire and all the apostles drop dead and it's just him and benji left standing there. benji had saved him and ethan doesn't know why. then ethan comes at him and attacks him and yells at him to take of the mask ("take it off." "take what off?" "your mask. take it off right now. and if you ever use that face again, i swear i will kill you."). and benji has to convince ethan that it's really him, he's here, alive, and not someone else wearing benji as a mask. ethan only believes him when he slices benji's cheek with a knife and he bleeds, pure and true, with no layer of mask against his skin.)

then ethan's so overwhelmed that benji's here and alive and there's still a mission to focus on and he doesn't even know how to process this. benji tells him they need to go, because there's more of them downstairs, and so ethan and benji take care of the rest of the apostles and then the mission's over and benji comes back with ethan and his team.

and this is already so long djfkjjd i didn't mean to go into so much detail, but basically then ethan has to reach acceptance all over again, has to accept the fact that the past four years of his life weren't even real and he had to go through all of that for nothing. (benji tells him it wasn't for nothing, because it kept ethan alive. the apostles had kidnapped him and told him that if he didn't come work with them, that ethan would die, and benji tried to think of any way to get out of it but couldn't. so he had followed their instructions and faked his death and become a part of their group. ethan was safe and that's all that had mattered) (“leaving you was the hardest thing i have ever had to do. but i would do it again in a heartbeat, knowing it saved your life.” “it didn’t.”)

so then benji moves to california with ethan and they relearn how to be a part of each other's lives and work though everything that went down the past four years, and it takes a lot of work, but eventually, they're happy and together (and finally get married) (and also they retire).

-

ask me about my wips!

[bingwriterxo]

Bing - you don’t gotta read if you don’t want to I just need to rant to someone other than family rn I literally don’t know what to do… like I’m so freaking heartbroken dude.

So my ex girlfriend and I have been together for 7 years now and literally like the best seven years of my life right? I bought a ring to propose to her in 2 months on the anniversary that we met - I had this WHOLE plan (there was a lot more to this plan but this was essentially the big part) to walk around downtown where we had our first date and when we reached the location where we had our first date I would ask her to marry me.

Well I got back from a business trip a week and a half ago and found out some stuff. She was hella distant while I was away like not talking to me at all or giving me hella short answers and when she would plan to FaceTime she wouldn’t answer. So I’m thinking like maybe she wants to give me space to work and do my thing on my trip or she is busy - not thinking anything bad because I though we were solid. Well one of our friends from high school hits me up and says she has been out with her guy best friend and looking all cozy and like super close like what couples would be doing and she was sure we were still together so just wanted to let me know what she had seen yk? Well I went to visit my parents and my brothers when I got back and I let her know I’d be there for a while as soon as I got back to town and she was like that’s cool! I’m at work until 8. I was there a good few hours and it’s getting closer to 8 so I told my family I gotta get home, unpack and make dinner before she got home from a long day at work.

Well dude I got home and saw her car there and I was thinking oh yk maybe she got off early and wanted to surprise me? Bro I was surprised. She was fucking her guy best friend. Like WHAT. Like I feel like my heart is shattered and just I don’t know what to do. I’m literally like SOBBING while writing this. 7 YEARS of my life dude. This was the girl I was going to MARRY. We have been together since we were 15. My first love. I have plans to move out tomorrow. I have been over at my brother’s place since I can’t even go home. I just don’t know how I’m gonna move on or what to even do now. Thanks for allowing me to rant - if you have any advice please I’m all ears.

shit dude, i'm really sorry to hear about this

unfortunately, i don't think i really have any advice for this sort of thing, but maybe some of my followers do

just try to take it one day at a time though, and message me if u need anything 🫶