#now wille is just so fucking tired of everything that he'd been through in the last few months

[hwanchaesong]

Idyllic (Mutual Pining) Preview

pairing: Jake X F!Reader

synopsis: He conceals his presence well and you are a good secret keeper. A combination that ends up in a museum of doubts and hesitance. Then again, a game of hide and seek never hurt anyone, right?

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

You tried to hold your tears back, keen on not showing any signs of weakness, not on a special day like this.

It's your birthday, for fucks sake!

The day you were born, the day you graced the earth with your presence. It's a day where you're supposed to feel like you're the only girl in the world.

So why the fuck are you outside, in the garden of the party hall that your friends went through the trouble of renting? Why the fuck are you sitting on a grass while wearing your prettiest dress, weeping like a child?

"Y/N? Why did you leave the party?"

Ah, there's the reason.

Sim fucking Jaeyun, better known as Jake.

"No reason," you tried to stabilize your voice, key word: tried, "just needed some fresh air."

Jake squinted his eyes at your slumped figure, he'd be lying if he says that he believes that pathetic excuse of a lie that you told him. He'd be kidding himself if he says that he wasn't able to read your body language, clearly, something is bothering you.

"Tell me." he declares, walking closer to you and that turned on a switch in you, panicking on what you should say because he can't see you like this.

He's not supposed to see you in such a sorry state, sporting Rudolf's red nose when it's months away from Christmas. Fat, ugly tears pooling in your eyes and your mascara must be ruined by now. He's not supposed to see you being this down bad for him, to the point that you're willing to bawl your eyes out in a place like this.

"Don't come near me! Please, leave me alone." you accidentally yelled at him, wrapping your arms around yourself and totally losing it. You hid your face on your arms, sobbing quietly, not having it in you to continue bearing the pain of having the love of your life be the loss of your life in one night.

It was your fault. Everything was your fault.

You didn't confess to him when you had the chance. You let him meet new girls, you supported him when he said that he wanted to talk with the girl that was recently transferred in your class.

It was your fault for being a mess, for being a coward. It was your fault for settling in the title of being friends.

The times when you shared secret glances across the room, the touches that were far too long to be considered platonic but never really given the meaning that they deserve, the sweet nothings that you whisper to each other after a long, tiring day.

You were the culprit behind the heist, so really, you shouldn't act like the victim. It's unfair for him.

You deserve this, to be left alone, wallowing in self-pity and cursing yourself repeatedly until you couldn't breathe anymore.

As your castle crumbled, you felt warm arms around you, the familiar figure dropping to his knees, pulling you onto his sturdy body, fingers soothing through your tangled strands.

"Jake?" you whispered his name, hoping that it was him. Wishing that he didn't really leave you, that it's him holding you, comforting you through this situation that you've put yourself in.

He hummed, his answer making your heart explode into the most colorful shades of fireworks.

"I'll be the biggest asshole if I leave the girl I have prayed for all my life here, crying during the day that she was given to me by the gods."

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader smut #enhypen reactions #enhypen fanfiction #jake imagines #jake fluff #jake smut #jake x reader #sim jake imagines #sim jake smut #sim jake fluff #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun fluff #jake angst #sim jake angst #sim jaeyun angst #heeseung imagines #jay imagines #sunghoon imagines #sunoo imagines #jungwon imagines #niki imagines #jake scenarios

[hornedqueenofhell]

Shared Interests Pt. 1

“...and that’s where we will be ending things for tonight!” Eddie says, clapping his hands together and leaning back in his chair while the children cry foul.

“We’ve only been going for three hours!”

“We didn’t even do anything except go shopping!”

“But what about the tip we just got to find Lolth’s lair?”

Eddie’s expression darkens and he smacks his hand on the table to shut everyone up, “We will continue with all of that next time but tonight Steve and I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Will asks, he’s the calmest of all of them and generally enjoys hearing about Eddie and Steve being happy in their relationship.

“Stevie is taking me to a baseball game.” Eddie replies and Mike and Dustin explode.

“You’re ditching Hellfire for a sports game?! What the fuck man?” Mike shouts, almost sweeping his things off the table with his arms flailing about so wildly.

“Language” Eddie says before getting a thousand yard stare briefly as he realizes the words that just came out of his mouth. Christ, Steve really was rubbing off on him… in more ways than one.

“So you can tell us to just go find a replacement instead of rescheduling but when you decide to take the night off we just have to deal?” Dustin bites out causing Eddie’s eyes to snap to him and then briefly dart over to Lucas.

Eddie had apologized profusely from his hospital bed, even before Steve had chewed him out for replacing Lucas with his sister. He knew Lucas still felt a bit wary around him when he got manic, which was understandable after everything he'd been through. They had been doing better though, Eddie would rather die than admit it but Lucas had good relationship advice. And he spoke jock so Eddie could ask him for things to say to impress Steve, usually it just made his boyfriend laugh but Eddie still counted it.

“Why a baseball game?” Lucas asks, Eddie turns to him and scrubs a hand through his hair.

“Because Steve likes the Cubs.” It had been the primary source of bonding between Steve and Wayne, both of them finally happy to have someone to talk about sports with.

“So?” Mike is looking at Eddie like he doesn’t recognize the older man anymore.

“Because couples generally like spending time together?” He’s not sure where the confusion here is.

Dustin scoffs, “Steve already goes to your shows and hangs out during d&d, how much more time do you two need to spend together?” Mike nods in agreement but Lucas has a small smile now and Eddie reaches out to squeeze his shoulder and ruffle his hair with a grin.

“Boys, what do those two things have in common that me seeing a baseball game with your babysitter doesn’t?” he asks as Lucas bats his hand away.

“Your things are actually cool?” Mike

“They’re in Hawkins?” Dustin

“They’re Eddie’s hobbies.” Lucas for the win! At Eddie’s confirming nod the other two turn to Lucas looking confused.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Lucas sighs at Mike and pats Will’s shoulder consolingly. His friend really needs a better guy to crush on. “And this is why El is done with your ass dude. You gotta share in your partner’s hobbies too man. Steve goes to Eddie’s shows even though he’s not a fan of metal because he likes Eddie. It wouldn’t be fair to Steve if Eddie wasn’t willing to do the same.”

“It definitely doesn’t make your partner feel good when you just dismiss their interests.” Eddie fidgets with his rings as his eyes drop to the table. He knew that he wasn’t used to relationships, Steve being his first boyfriend ever, and learning the hard way that compromise was a very necessary thing had been a difficult concept to wrap his head around at first. He’d complained about Steve trying to invite him to ‘normie’ events or playing his music until Steve, tired of feeling like Eddie didn’t actually care about him, told him that maybe they were better off seeing other people. 

Eddie had reacted poorly and it wasn’t until his bandmates called him out when he’d tried to complain to them about their fight that he’d figured it out. He still wasn’t a fan of baseball but seeing Steve light up as he’d explained to Eddie why everyone was cheering about a specific player or hit made sitting through the games more than worth it. And Steve wrapping Eddie up in his members only jacket in the parking lot before sneaking a little kiss hadn’t been too bad either.

So they would go see the occasional home game, season tickets being one of the ‘expensive presents definitely make up for the fact we’re shitty parents’ gifts Steve got for a Christmas present last year. Or sometimes when Eddie has a game or just isn’t feeling social Steve will take Wayne and Eddie gets the trailer to himself for several hours. He can take a nice long shower, practice voices for his campaigns, make himself a snack while naked in the kitchen. Or go to Steve’s and cook him something nice for dinner then head upstairs and open himself up on his boyfriend's bed before pulling out a book and waiting for Steve to get back and rail him through the mattress. 

"So what, you're going to sit at a baseball game and just pretend to be interested in it so you can score points with some washed up jock?"

"First off Wheeler, check the fucking attitude. I don't know what it is with you and your sister that you think you can just say the most awful things about Steve and face no repercussions but I will absolutely ban you if you don't start treating Steve with some basic human decency. Second off, I don't have to like baseball, it’s the same way with Steve not being super into my music. We are very different people so we sometimes struggle to find common ground, and when our interests don't line up we have to find ways to make it work. Because, as I'm still figuring out, that's kind of a big part of being in a healthy relationship."

Pt 2

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 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 wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

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

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

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

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

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

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

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

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

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

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 

"Yes, sir."

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

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[nohaijiachi]

I got randomly recommended this video by YT and wrote a ginormous comment in response because I have no self control, apparently, so I thought I might as well also share my thoughts here in regard to whatever is going with THIS FUCKING SMILE

(under a cut to not clog y'alls dashboards)

(the first part of the comment here is a direct response to some of the ideas put forth in the video, it is very short so give it a quick watch for more context if you want)

Imo it's not necessary to look into overcomplicated theories that rely too much on off screen shenanigans to explain the smile, for how amusing the idea of them having swapped during the kiss is (like, the kind of stuff I won't want to be actually canon, but I'll be very happy to see explored in fan fics lol)

I think to fully explain that smile we have to take in consideration multiple factors:

This show is very purposeful in what it does and doesn't, well... show. That last shot is very long and I think the fact that Aziraphale's and Crowley's expressions in the aftermath of their disastrous break up is shown in such a manner tells us a LOT about the state of mind they might be at the start of S3, and the obstacles they'll have to face. Aziraphale doesn't immediately smile, rather he seems to look almost shell-shocked for most of the shot; it's clear (to me at least lol) that the quiet ride up the elevator is finally giving him some desperately needed time to fully digest everything that happened, because too much has happened in an extremely short amount of time, and we all know Aziraphale doesn't do well with speed lol.

But, for how much he can sometimes be a complete moron, he is smart, and all he needs are just those seconds of quiet to properly ponder on everything, on the choices made and the ramifications of said choices, and that's how we get to smile-- I'll delve into what I think Aziraphale is going through in his mind in more details later, because I also think it's necessary to focus a bit on Crowley's own expression, since the both of them are so intrinsically linked that the narrative cannot make sense without taking the both of them into account.

Crowley's expression is much more static and doesn't change the way Aziraphale's does; he looks profoundly tired in ways we've never seen him before. I don't think he's giving up on Aziraphale, and I fully believe the fact that he stood there and waited for Aziraphale to disappear in the elevator, the both of them sharing that last look, was a quiet message: He'll never give up on Aziraphale, he'll be there, waiting. But wait is all he can do for Aziraphale, now, because he can't follow where Aziraphale is going.

For how messy and full of heightened emotions the confession + kiss are, I think actually denying Aziraphale's request was a HUGE step forward for Crowley's character. He's never been able to deny Aziraphale, he always went back to him after every fight, and we all know how stupidly whipped for Aziraphale he is and how he'd empty the ocean with a spoon if Aziraphale asked him nicely-- But to actually put his foot down and say "no, I cannot do this for you" when asked to all but renounce the person he is now? Especially with how Aziraphale is all but begging him openly? That's a huge step, and something I think Crowley desperately needs to mature as a person (or, well, person-shaped being). We all love how Aziraphale has him wrapped around his little finger I'm sure, but we also all know that if they truly want to build a strong, healthy relationship they also both need to be able to keep their individuality and to put forth adequate boundaries about what they are willing to do for each other within reason.

Asking Crowley to come back to being an angel when he's made blatantly clear for six thousand bloody years how much he despises Heaven is not a 'within reason' request, innit?

So, yeah, for how heartbreaking the break-up was, in a sense Crowley needs it. They both do. They both need time apart to figure their own shit out, dismantle all those unhealthy habits they had to adopt in order to be with one another as safely as they possibly could while still 'employed', and then come back together with a clearer mind and a whole deal stronger than before, both as individuals and as a couple.

And I think how tired and downtrodden Crowley looks in that last shot is a precursor to this process, just as much as Aziraphale's smile is... So, let me get back to our favorite angel and what I personally think is going on with him.

I think to properly contextualize that smile we need to look at not just the happening of those infamous last fifteen minutes, but of S2 as a whole, and what Aziraphale does in it.

So, what is Aziraphale doing during S2?

At the start he seems to be more or less comfortably settled in his current life; he's as happy as ever doing what he's always done, enjoying humanity's creativity with his books and his music and his food and drinks, seemingly content to be puttering about in his bookshop (which is a stark contrast with Crowley's homelessness and his kinda adrift and depressed attitude). Of course then Jim!Gabriel throws a wrench right into that, but imo I think there was a lot more going on behind the facade of Aziraphale's well ingrained habits.

Sure, he still has all of his familiar comforts and his routine, but from the moment we see him interact with Crowley I saw a deep restlessness emerge in him: The panicked look he launches Crowley when Nina asks him about his 'naked man friend', the way he speaks with Crowley with all those 'our' he uses, the blatant way he keeps reaching over and touching Crowley-- To me that suggests that Aziraphale is clearly not as happy as he seems to be on a superficial glance. He clearly wants more with Crowley, wants to bring their relationship to the next step, but because the both of them are so deeply entrenched in their unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits and their inability to openly communicate it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale to just... You know. Take the first step, actually say something about it. So he just keeps throwing bait after bait in the water, hoping Crowley will bite and be the one taking the initiative as he's always done, finally allowing Aziraphale to accept said initiative, this time around.

Of course, we all see that Crowley doesn't take any first step, which is probably something deeply frustrating for Aziraphale at a subconscious level. That's how we get the ball; sure, on the face of it it was Aziraphale's way to make Nina and Maggie fall in love, but... Was it, really? Let's be real, for how entirely believable it is that Aziraphale makes up the lie about Nina and Maggie's love to cover for their miracle is, since we've seen him being anxious around other angels, I don't think for a second that had Aziraphale just stopped and spent three minutes thinking about it he wouldn't have found a way to convince Muriel that Nina and Maggie were, in fact, in love, especially with how 'green' Muriel is about humans.

I fully believe that Aziraphale is not properly thinking during S2, period. He's frustrated by his inability to bring his and Crowley's relationship to what he wants it to be, and that frustration and single-minded objective is utterly obfuscating his thought process. There are plenty of moments he seemed almost manic, imo, which I read as another sign about his 'impaired' (allow me the term) state of mind as of S2.

So, yes, the ball: On the face of it something to actually turn his lie to the Archangels into truth, but deeper down, perhaps almost unconsciously, I think Aziraphale sees the ball as a way to finally make him and Crowley happen. That fact that he's taking pointers about romance from human literature is blatant, and obviously he truly does believe the ball will be THE way to make love bloom.

If you stop and think about it, the ball scene is terrifying. These people are being manipulated to play the perfect background parts to make, what is in Aziraphale's mind, the height of romance atmosphere happen. The fact we get a juxtaposition with Nina's "what the F is going on, am I losing my mind???" rightful attitude underlines this. And I truly believe Aziraphale isn't exerting said manipulation with intent, but rather doing so subconsciously, because he's just so fixated on the idea of having finally the perfect set-up to have Crowley as he desires that he is influencing everything around him. After all, we all know they both have the tendency of making things happen the way they want simply by thinking that's how things are supposed to happen.

And again, he's so manic and giddy when he asks Crowley to dance, his ass is not LISTENING. He literally needed a brick thrown through a window to snap out of it.

So, in the present we have an Aziraphale who , in his own way, is trying to take the initiative, come out with plans. There is a moment that I think might have slipped under the radar of a lot of people but that's frightfully important about who Aziraphale is at this point in the story, and who he will need to become: "I have a plan," Aziraphale said to Crowley during the stare down with the demons outside of the bookshop after the ruined ball; Crowley didn't even seem to have registered that sentence at all, because his mind is already projected forward and going a mile a minute about what to do to keep both the humans and Aziraphale safe in this situation.

Crowley, who loves to swoop in and save Aziraphale, doing what he's always done to keep his angel safe, even to the detriment of their relationship with one another... And Aziraphale, who adores playing the part of the damsel in distress in turn, is actually telling Crowley that *he has a plan*.

That's not something to take lightly, methinks. That's very much just another sign that Aziraphale's individuality is struggling, trying to emerge through Aziraphale's anxiety and doubts and fears and deeply ingrained habits. Aziraphale's cognitive dissonance in regards to heaven, and his shaken faith in God are huge motivators of his actions, and in the grand scheme of things the scant few years he had away from under the oppressive thumb of heaven is nothing. It was barely any time at all in the face of the eternity of an immortal life spent under that oppression, and yet we are already seeing little glimpses of Aziraphale's rebellious side struggling to get fully free.

I think these little glimpses inform us at great lengths about the evolution Aziraphale's character will go through in S3, and greatly explains that strange smile right at the end; in my opinion that smile isn't the smile of someone who's trying to convince himself that he's ok, or realizing that Crowley loves him (he knew already, they both knew and have known for a long time, their inability to properly express those feelings was their downfall, but I don't think either of them has doubted even for a second when it comes to how much they love one another). In my opinion that smile is the smile of someone who is steeling himself for what he envisions in his future; equal parts old-sedated anxiety and yet determination to actually enact plans he's surely concocting in his brilliant little mind. That's the smile of someone who has just realized that not only they can, but that they need to do something, and you can damn well be sure they won't be sitting and twiddling their thumbs waiting to be saved, but they'll be the one saving themselves and everybody else along with 'em, this time.

Just as Crowley needs to actually spend some time define himself as himself, and not just in relation to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to spend some time shedding all those fears and doubts that are weighing him down, and emerge the other side someone much more self-assured and ready to do what he thinks is right without all the hesitations that have indirectly been strengthened by Crowley; in a way, by allowing Aziraphale an out with his 'temptations', Crowley had been feeding into those hesitations, and had been holding Aziraphale back from fully maturing, even if not done on purpose, obviously. Imo is very important for Aziraphale's character that he comes to realize that he doesn't need those excuses Crowley gifted him to keep doing what he thinks is right, that he actualizes his own morality properly, and enacts on it.

I don't have the faintest clue about what is going to happen in S3, but I do fully believe the above paragraph is what Aziraphale and Crowley's respective character arcs will focus on. And once they'll come back together they'll be the most power couple that has ever power coupl-ed, and the Metatron will have no clue about what is about to hit him >:)

#good omens #good omens 2 #meta #I want Aziraphale to Fuck Shit Up in S3 #you think I was joking with that comic I drew some time ago? #I am NOT! #LET AZIRAPHALE FUCK SHIT UP HE DESERVES IT

[kitasgloves]

"Fallingforyou"

event masterlist

— ♬ "I don't want to be your friend, I want to kiss your neck"

— ♬ Suna x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, friends to lovers, mentions of smoking, no beta

What time you coming out?

Suna Rintaro bit his lip when he sent you the message. He didn't want to come across as desperate or clingy but it was getting difficult to deny it. He's afraid that at this point he'll never make it right if you don't wander off.  Suna starts to bite his thumb as he anxiously waits for your reply. He knows you're busy and he'd be lucky if gets a moment to spend with you. He puts his phone down to fetch himself some Chuupet at the fridge when he hears his phone vibrate on his nightstand, he practically sprints to see if you have replied. And you did, telling him you'll be off your work later and he should stop by at your place. He's so excited for the night. All he needs is his bike and your enormous house.

Suna encountered you during college since you both shared a lot of classes. You always took a seat next to him during lectures and he began saving a seat for you whenever you were late, his heart never fails to throb when he finds out you did the same for him. He couldn't fuck with anyone at the time, people were either too eccentric or lackluster. But you managed to captivate him. You were laid back and had a fantastic sense of humor because you always made him laugh. You were a quiet genius, Suna has copied your notes and homework throughout college. And you had the most honest soul he had ever met.

He couldn't think of anyone he was willing to bend backward for, break the rules for, and burn the world for. Your face always pops up in his head along with the scent of your sweet perfume, if only you knew what you do to him. These conflicting feelings followed him until the end of college. You and Suna remained friends despite rarely talking to each other. You and him shared mutual friends so he knows what you were up to when he's curious about your wellbeing.

You and him shared a lot of moments. From watching movies to smoking your first cigarette. Suna had everything recorded in his phone and head. Every smile, every laugh, every frown, every fight, and every hug. Everything you did affected Suna. But he's still unsure how to deal with these perplexing emotions he held towards you. Till then you and him will just knock around and see if you're all he needs.

"Hi, Rin"

"Hey, it's been a while"

You open the door to invite him in, he carries a bag of your favorite snacks and some beer. Both of you settled in the living room, you were flicking through movies, asking him what he wanted to watch. But he shrugs and tells you to put on whatever you like. You'd play one of your favorites on the TV while you talked with him throughout the film, Suna would slip a joke or two to see you smile and then look at your lips whenever you took a sip of your beer. The evening ended late, you were tired from work and he didn't want to keep you up.

"Good night, [Name]"

"'Night Rin"

He tucks you into bed and contemplates if he should kiss you on the forehead, but he holds back and leaves your room. All the jitters and high from the night before remained in his system for a week and Suna knew he had to see you again. He chased the feeling you gave him, a sense of safety and comfort he couldn't find in anyone. The solace and freedom of being himself without giving a care in the world. He could only feel satisfaction when he was beside you. So he asks you again when you will be free, but now he discards how desperate and clingy he behaved.

It was during snowfall did Suna met up with you again. The weather was perfect for lovers to be entangled in the sheets and share body heat. You show up wearing warm colors and your favorite coat, Suna cracks a smile when you approach him dressed in black and grey. You suggested on getting coffee and he agreed, even if he didn't like coffee at all. The two of you sat together in a crummy cafe that you liked downtown, you were halfway through your coffee and he barely touched his. He was busy taking in every word you said and focusing on your face whenever you talked.

You were so close to him that he can smell that damn perfume again. Your shoulders were brushing he flushes. When he shifts his jacket and catches your coat again, he can feel his blush deepen when you look at him.

"Sorry"

"Oh, no it's fine"

Suna begins to read between the line and touches your leg again, and again. You don't seem to mind, he's even starting to think you're inviting the feeling. He keeps his leg against yours when you finish your coffee, at this point, his went cold. Suna thinks he should take it one day at a time. Soon you'll be his. But the problem is Suna wants you now. 

"I'll see you around, yeah"

"Yeah..."

He watches you walk away while the snow falls, his chest aching at seeing your figure disappearing in the distance. All Suna could think about was the next possible encounter, maybe then, he could comprehend his feelings about you. And maybe you're starting to feel the same about him too. So, he takes his time and patience to pounce on the perfect opportunity to hit you up again.

Suna waits for you at the park at almost midnight, he thinks that you probably think he's annoying for asking to see you every week. Nonetheless, you always agree to meet up. You were probably too kind to decline or maybe there was something more that he doesn't know. He doesn't often smoke but when he does it means he's anxious. He places the cigarette between his lips and lights it up, he inhales the nicotine and lets out a long exhale. That's when he sees your figure in the distance.

"Yo!"

You smile and walk up to him. Suna smiles and waves at you before taking another drag. When the smoke gets in your eyes, you look so alive. He thinks if you fancy sitting down with him on the bench because he's convinced that you're all he needs. You start the chat as usual and he would pay great attention to you. He waits for you to ask him for a cigarette but you don't. You and him talked until midnight and around that time, Suna felt himself crumbling. And you notice.

"Is there something bothering you, Rin? You've smoked three cigarettes now"

"There is but..."

"But?"

"I don't know how to tell you"

"Oh, Rin. You know you can tell me anything"

Your hand rests on his knee and he puts the cigarette away from his lips and smothers it with his foot. He takes your hand and you flinch at how cold it feels, but you don't pull away, instead, you pull him into a hug. Suna instantaneously melts in your hold. The feeling of your arms was enough to soothe him. He borrows his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he feels his heartbeat synch with yours. He feels like he should say it. He thinks he should say it. Suna pulls away and looks you in the eye, your orbs shining under the moonlight.

"[Name]"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to be your friend..."

"Rintaro...?"

"I want to kiss your neck"

Bewilderment bloomed in your features. Suna hoped the dim light of the lampost didn't catch the redness of his cheeks. He gulps when there is a long period of silence, so he shuts his eyes. He doesn't see you do the same and lean forward. The next thing he knows is the feeling of your lips capturing his. The kiss begins slow and clumsy. When he grabs your cheek, it morphs into tenderness. The sound of his heartbeat blasts in his ears as he shares his kiss with you for the first time, something he has daydreamed about since then. No one was sure who pulled away, but now you two gazed at each other breathlessly. Suna inhales.

"I think I'm falling for you, [Name]"

Suna finally utters. Your jaw goes slack momentarily before looking away. Don't you need him? He thinks. On this night, in this light, Suna confirms to himself that he is indeed falling for you. Now, he's both hoping you'll change your mind and preparing himself for a pending rejection. But when you gave him that blinding smile of yours, Suna's heart skipped a beat. 

"I think I'm falling for you too, Rintaro"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #Spotify

[iridescentdove]

can you do a continuation of full power Lumine with Fyodor, Sigma, and Ranpo. I feel like Fyodor would interested because of how complicated she is and how he would have a hard time understanding something for the for the first time I’m assuming. Same goes for Ranpo. I think he would be exiting too because the traveler is always willing to help and his type is someone that spoils him. For Sigma I feel like he would understand her in a way because he is a supernatural being that came into existence under interesting circumstances. And he would have someone to help him because we all know how the Decay Of Angels is I would also feel unsafe 24/7 😭

feel free to take your time if you have a lot of requests! (this was longer than I anticipated)

Fyodor, Sigma & Ranpo x Lumine! Reader

Hi! ♡ I'm quickly zooming through requests to make up for the time lost in my absence lol. Lumine is skeptical but shares the same curiosity her twin has for everything, she's rational and courageous, along with being generous and helpful towards others that need assistance. And most especially, rather beautiful and somewhat quiet, yet considered rather expressive.

As if a primordial being – Lumine holds power able to destroy worlds and travel through them with ease, and yet, most of it having been sealed away by the Unknown God's own bidding. What happens when she regains her full power and travels through the world of BSD?

Soukoku, Jouno & Atsushi Ver.

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

You're a strange new specimen, and he actually finds interest in you. Plus – Fyodor actually likes pretty people, so seeing you for the first time is actually surprising.

Who knew someone so beautiful in this world existed 🗿

But honestly, although this man can read you like book if he wanted to, that's not happening.

You're rather complicated. Like no fr. You're pretty and small as hell, but you're so fucking strong hello? And you're not very talkative yet so expressionable it's alluring

He has no idea what to think, but all he knows is that he wants to keep you around.

The fact you're helpful draws him to you more. He learns to trust you overtime, and you have no ulterior motives when you go warm him up and make him feel comfortable.

Whenever he needs help or basically just you spoiling him and comforting from his anemia, that's cloud 9 ok idfc

He's starting to really ... really like you and I don't

You're basically everything he'd want tbh. Since you're from a different world, his ability probably don't work on you.

And just be glad it doesn't honestly. You're like God level strong and rather smart yourself, so he isn't bored and actually finds you worthy of being with him.

Well even if you weren't, you'd be an interesting playtoy on it's own. Please let me punch him already.

He'll have you run errands and do different things to go according to his plans, but he doesn't tire you out or anything because he still pretty much cares.

BRO this guy reminds me of the Fatui idk 💀

Dude is fuckin unhinged, commits warcrimes, hot and is very strong. You can't tell me he's literally the emobidiment of the harbingers in an alternate world lmfao

Even though he's a red flag you don't really care 'cause you can kill him whenever you want. Slayyy girlboss.

One of the rare times he'd take his ushanka off, and put it on your head because you're just too adorable to resist. The innocent, curious look on your face afterwards sends him.

You're a cute, complicated being he's just addicted to.

He's rather amused himself – so whenever you're like beating up Dazai or something (much to his satisfaction), he's watching in the back with his popcorn or sumn.

Probably smirking the entire time. He loves you more now

Imagine Dazai being Childe and that weekly boss you always fucking destroy every week? Peak comedy.

He probably won't even bother trying to fight against you, man knows his place so he gets humbled. But that probably won't stop him from testing you a few times.

He'll purposely get you in a tricky situation so he can observe more of you, and you'll never fail to surpass his expectations every time.

P.S. expect yourself to beat up Nikolai often. His orders lol

Rat king's actually found his match <3 fuck you

RANPO EDOGAWA:

You probably crash landed in the agency or smth. How would I know that?

I'm the writer, bitch /hjq

Now let's say both of you were just acquaintances at first, you'd help around the agency a lot though. And that also includes him.

So here we are! At this point, you're basically just spoiling him from all the help that you give.

He doesn't even mind he fucking loves it I bet

Other than Atsushi, he now drags you with him to go and buy candy, or just makes you go out and do it yourself. Either way the candy is bought so 🤷🏻

Dw babe he shares it with you <3

Must I say you're pretty once more? It's not even annoying bro I am SPEAKING FACTS stan lumine

Ranpo is very interested in you and your specie, if he ever got bored he'd probably take breaks away from doing some cases and listens to your talking.

Will get extremely invested in the world of Teyvat, learning more about it.

DON'T TELL HIM ABOUT HEIZOU

"Hehe! Number one detective you say? Even more so than I am~? After all, I am the greatest detective in the world!"

We get it babe.

Like if you ever honestly tried to put them both together in Poe's book it is very obvious who will come out first. Bro will legit rub it in your face too, not even cap

Oh, speaking of which – he'd probably invite you into one of them too. It would be a fun hangout ... maybe.

You're the bodyguard that fucks up any murderer tryna get to him while he deals with the shit and puts his glasses on then DAMN BITCH we boutta go usain bolt on this shit.

It doesn't even take that long. You guys did it in a heartbeat.

Ranpo honestly adores you, that much you can tell. He likes mostly everything about you and finds you so entertaining.

Especially your expressions which are peak comedy.

Definitely the type to do something real smart and show off his skills so he could see your reaction.

And maybe even get a bit of praise. You know this guy loves it when you compliment him and agree with things that he says. That's already fulfilling his heart.

I'd say you'd help him out a lot honestly, the ADA is basically the adventurers guild 💀

You'd be relaxing and having a chill time until Ranpo or some other member comes up and tells you to fucking beat up Mori or something

Yeah. They entrust it all to your capable hands.

But of course, Ranpo wouldn't leave you alone with that. You both make great teamwork in all cases.

Right after each remotely easy to borderline difficult case, Ranpo will be a sweetheart and take you out somewhere nice to relax. His treat.

kisses in the ferris wheel pls

It's already easy enough to tell, but you can see all the affection in his eyes as the night comes to an end once more. More than that, even.

It's such a cute sight. But honestly, who could even say no to this guy? It's literally Ranpo.

SIGMA:

So here you've already been in the world of bsd for a while and you're just doing random bullshit the agency adventurers guild gives you.

Mersault arc timeskip. Dazai off sucking and teaming up with some Nakahara toes, Nikolai being a material gworl

Fyodor is mimicking Odasaku's ashes

And obviously you're here in the back forced to do everything yourself because shit goes down 🔥

You have a pretty good knowledge on yourself in this world you're stuck in again, and it's necessary to use that info to your disposal because wow, the situation is complicated.

Especially during this arc now, but it's less difficult when you're only focusing on the DOA.

We'll say you only be familiar with the different organizations because you often go around a lot and travel.

Then meet various people and ... fight over half of them 😐

By this time, you and Sigma have been well acquainted. Due to his ability, he managed to get info about you easily. And boy does he use that to advantage.

Asked begged you to help him out in the DOA.

Look man he's suffering, don't leave babygworl all alone with all these gay men who're too broke to afford proper therapy sessions

Don't worry Sigma, we're here for you <3

By now you had no idea what was happening, just getting random info from everyone around you

Moving place to place (teleport waypoints are real handy right about now), collecting random shit and beating up enemies along the way

Classic genshin ripoff moment :/

Although you don't actually do a lot of stuff for the DOA, it's mostly personal mishaps coming from Sigma. Because no we don't want to be a wanted terrorist tf

So you soon arrived at mersault and saw poor Sigma either dead or unconscious.

Bro is in need of tevyat fried eggs

Anyways, you of course could not LEAVE him out of your sight after that. The one time you thought it was okay to stay out of business ... that happened 🤡

Sigma was indeed alive, but at the same time it wasn't okay to leave him since he was barely clinging on.

By the time he awoke, he thought he saw heaven. He frantically sits up from bed.

Oh wait, it was just you <3

You brought him back to the sky casino, as he was resting at a safe distance away from the three psychopaths in jail

You guys do end up having to go back much to his dismay, although this time it felt more safer because you were around. He's down deep and he can't return.

Sigma really likes you. Not because you're helpful and quite beautiful, but strong and empathetic in a sense both of you relate to various things.

He's seriously lucky to have you, his little shooting star ❤️

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #armed detective agency #bsd #bsd headcanons #decay of angels #genshin #lumine #genshin crossover #bsd crossover #sigma x reader #bsd ranpo #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader

[crowned-aeris]

A Reverse-Robin Wingfic / To Brace Upon Benign Feathers

It starts kinda crack-ish, but then gets kinda emotional-y towards the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

===

"TIM!"

He jerked awake, blinking at the ceiling in confusion as his brain slowly registered where he was.

"Tim!" the voice came again, followed by a body slamming into his chest.

"Oomf!" Tim grunted as the air was violently knocked out of his chest. With a tight expression, he reached up and carded a hand through his brother's hair, "Morning, Dick."

"Hi!" the newest addition to the family chirped brightly, his sapphire eyes glowing as bright as a 200,000 lumens flashlight. Brighter than the sun, even. The blue reminds him of Kon and the alien's blue eyes that looked like a wolf-rayet star.

"What time is it?" Tim mumbled, wincing as the five-year-old crawled over him, digging his knee into Tim's kidney and accidentally stepping on his wing.

"It's time for you to get your a- butt in gear and move," Jason called from the door. “Damian’s making breakfast, so Duke asked us to come and wake you.”

Tim groaned, dropping his head back until it banged loudly against the headboard. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough, he could go back to sleep.

Dick cheered when he spotted Jason, the Ficher's Lovebird's bright red-yellow-green wings flaring out as he launched himself at the teen.

Jason grunted as Dick slammed into him but managed to keep his grip steady.

"Hurry up and get ready," Jason said. The cardinal shifted, folding his bright crimson wings against his back as Dick tucked his face into Jason's neck, "B said he's gonna take up to the zoo."

"Zoo! I wanna go to the zoo!" Dick's head shot up as he clutched Jason's shirt.

"I know, Dickie," Jason rolled his eyes fondly, "that's why we're going."

"Okay!" the fledgling chirped, "Tim!"

"Yes?" He lifted his head from the pillow with a slow and tired blink. What he'd give to have Kon here right now.

"Get! Up!" Dick demanded. Jason, the traitor, just laughed. "Or else I'll tell Dami to come get you!"

The falcon hummed, waiting until his brothers disappeared from the doorframe before flipping over and shoving his face back into the pillow.

Everything ached, his back especially, and it wasn't because of Kon, okay, Jason? Tim had been fighting Killer Croc last night, and that bastard got lucky and slammed Tim against a brick wall. His right arm was a huge-ass bruise, and he was not excited to get up.

Maybe if he pretended to be dead, Damian would leave him be...

Who is he kidding? If the harpy eagle was willing to drag a pit-crazed Tim from the brink of suicide, then he was more than willing to dunk Tim in the pits.

Just as he was about to doze off, there was a knock on the doorframe.

"What?" Tim -whined- groaned, not bothering to lift his head from the pillow.

"Hey, Ducky," an amused voice called.

He pouted, turning his head to glare balefully at Duke. The mourning dove smiles, lifting a brow in amusement. Traitor.

"Leave me alone, Duke," Tim grumbled, thankful that Alfred had all the pillows and sheets in Tim's room reinforced since the last time he had a Pit-episode... It had been a whole thing...

Duke raised another eyebrow, mimicking Alfred's patented Disappointed Stare™ quite successfully. Tim doesn't doubt that, at this point, Duke could get even Damian to bend to his will.

And just like Alfred's own stares, Tim, frustratingly, folded under pressure.

For fuck's sake- he was supposed to Wraith, the dead spirit of the Bat's second Shadow revived and out to hunt ne'er do wells as well as the Bats themselves- his goddamn reputation!

"What reputation, Tim?" Duke laughed before strolling over and yanking the covers off of him.

God, Tim hates it when he says things out loud. A side effect of being locked away by Ra's in an attempt to break his spirit or whatever.

He grumbled as Duke hauled him up and out of bed. Annoyingly, the Lazarus pits healed his shitty eyes, that one scar he got from following Shadow around, and the gash in his throat, but not his fucking height. Instead, Tim has to be stuck in this measly five-foot-seven-inch body, while Duke, Bruce, and Damian all got to be fucking six-foot-plus behemoths.

A shake snapped Tim out of his misery.

"Did you even hear what I said?" Duke asked incredulously.

"No," Tim huffed, "I was distracted and decided not to listen to your stupid voice saying stupid stuff."

"Says that one in air jail," Duke replied smugly. Shit, he's right. That fucker. "Tim, I can practically hear you cussing me out. Keep doing this, and I'll have Bruce and Damian hide your coffees and Red Bulls."

"W-"

"And your monsters."

Tim gasped, "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. Now go get ready. We leave in an hour, and you don't even have a shirt on, Tim."

"It's a fashion choice," he hissed, "you wouldn't understand because you're stupid!"

Duke sighed, plopping Tim onto the floor. He wasn't even surprised when the falcon went boneless, turning into a limp pile of loose limbs and angry hissing, "You're such a child, Ducky."

"This is because I'm gay, isn't it!" Tim demanded, snapping to his feet and flaring out his wings, "This is homophobia!"

"Of course, it is," Duke drily responded before he turned and made for the door, "I'll send Damian up in ten minutes. If you haven't gotten ready by then, I'm allowing him to dress you however he likes."

Duke closed the door gently, but he might as well have slammed it from how ruffled it left him.

Honestly, the gall! How has he, Wraith, Ra's desired heir to the fucking Damon's Fang, fallen so far from his formidable glory?

Nevertheless, Tim forced himself to get ready. He brushed his teeth and washed his face- even "Serial Killers" need clear skin, but was killing fifteen of Black Mask's and the Joker's most trusted really considered killing? Bruce was just overreacting!- and then threw on a short-sleeved shirt, hoodie over that, washed-out ripped jeans, and called it a day.

Tim groaned, desperately craving coffee, caffeine, or something to stave off the complete and utter exhaustion pooling in his head. This was terrible, horrible, and a vile thing to do.

"Timothy," Damian said from where he stood at the table, a plate held in the eagle's hands. He was wearing a bright pink apron covered with flour, and Jason was behind him, wearing a matching pink apron and holding a plate, too. "You finally decided to show your face and detach yourself from that hovel."

"If you want, I could always go back to my so-called Hovel," Tim tilted his head in a challenge.

"Tt," Damian scoffed before sliding a plate to Tim's spot, "Seeing as you have already decided to show your face, and Richard somehow tolerates you, it would be more efficient if you remain here."

Dick was already seated with a glass of strawberry milk, and his pancakes were half-finished and absolutely drowning in maple syrup. Bruce was directly across from Dick, and his pancakes were far more respectable with butter, syrup, bacon, and a cup of coffee. Duke was beside Dick, and he had a plate with fresh fruit, powdered sugar, and a glass of orange juice. Alfred sat at the head of the table with his English breakfast, tea, and a proud smile. Cass was next to Bruce with a bowl of fruit, orange juice, toast, and multiple slices of stolen bacon.

Hesitantly, Tim sat down at the end of the table as Jason rushed over to fill the empty chair between Tim and Duke. Damian, the bull-headed son of a bitch -that bitch being Bruce, because Tim would never call Talia a bitch- decided the best seat wasn't going to be next to Cass, but instead the seat directly in front of Tim. Not in front of Jason, but in front of Tim.

Instead of confronting his feelings like a well-adjusted member of society should, Tim decided the best course of action was to examine his plate of pancakes.

It had fudge drizzled over the top, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, and freshly diced strawberries were placed like a crown with their leaves carefully removed and tossed in a barely noticeable syrup. There was a small bowl of strawberry-lemon zest jam on the edge of Tim's plate, and he could tell that whoever positioned it was diligent. Not a single speck of powdered sugar got onto the outside of the tiny bowl...

Every part of this plate looked like it had been prepared in a five-star restaurant. What more was that this was exactly the same kind of pancakes Damian would make for him as an apology back when Tim was Shadow...

Suddenly, his eyes were beginning to sting, and Tim could feel Damian's stare carve holes into the top of his head. And then, Damian slid over a cup of steaming coffee, and just by looking at it, he knew Damian had made it the way Tim loved.

It was a declaration, an apology, and a promise all wrapped in a simple breakfast…

He took a deep breath and cut into his pancakes, forcing himself to hold back tears as his family chattered around him.

Even after everything that has happened, his flock still accepted him.

Even after everything, Tim was still loved.

#tim drake #batman #dick grayson #fanfic #jason todd #damian wayne #batfamily #bruce wayne #reverse robins #wings #wing fic #crack fic #and angst #this was supposed to be short #but then it ran away from me #god #this au has me in a chokehold #i already have the story planned out like wtf #pls ask me stuff #i am frothing at the mouth #I literally want to strangle this fic and throttle them #my pookies <3 #timkon #but its only a smidgeon of timkon #idk if it counts #shrug emoji #i wrote this at like 1 am #i might post this on ao3 some time in the future #Fic: to brace upon benign feathers

[nuancedeaths]

Posted this in December on ao3 but thought I might share it here too...

REVERIE

Word count: 3.2k

Summary:

"You're beautiful, Simon. If anyone dares tell you otherwise, I'll put a bullet through their fucking skull." Simon scoffs, reaching for one of Johnny's hands and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "You really know your way to a man's heart, Johnny." "Aye, so you admit, there is a heart in there somewhere?" – John and Simon try their best to navigate their relationship through Simon's past trauma, the progress is slow, but they're getting there.

Johnny found out about Simon's nightmares one night on a mission. They were left overnight with no evacuation possible until morning to huddle together in an old abandoned farmhouse until sunrise.

Being in a compromised position, Johnny suggested they take turns being on watch in case they managed to get any unwanted company during the night.

Simon offered to be on watch the entire night to let him get enough rest, but there was no way Johnny would agree to that. Not only to let Simon rest up, but also for the simple fact that not getting enough sleep could compromise him in the event they are faced with an unfriendly face at the window.

Simon took the first watch and dutifully woke Johnny for his turn two hours later before he found himself a corner to rest in.

Johnny could tell he was nervous about actually trying to sleep, so he decided he would give the man his space and keep the questions to himself.

He broke that agreement the moment he heard the other man crying, muffled pleading into the quiet night.

"Ghost?" He'd called out, a bit nervous.

His hand reached for the knife at his side, in case someone had gotten to him. But when he rounded the corner, he found the man alone, huddling in the corner with his head tucked between his knees.

"Ghost?"

No response. Then softer.

"Simon?"

That seemed to break through to him and he looked up, startled.

Johnny could almost swear he saw tears in the man's eyes.

"You alright, LT?"

"I'm fine."

Johnny knew that was a lie, but he didn't want to push anything, so he let it go, figured if Ghost wanted him to know, he would've told him.

Maybe Johnny did mean more to Ghost than he initially realised, because not long after, on one of their tired nights awake after everyone else had long gone to bed, Ghost told him about Roba. The nightmares, why he never shows his face.

That's when Johnny first saw Simon, under the mask, under his persona. He saw the man that underwent years of trauma to become a ghost of what he once was.

Johnny had been fond of the lieutenant for a while now, but seeing the real Simon Riley under the hard exterior made him fall harder than he expected.

He began to see parts of Simon in Ghost. In the way he took his tea, the joy in his voice when he told one of those awful jokes.

Johnny loved him, he realised one day Ghost had a scare about a bullet that had nearly hit him, how he fussed over making sure Johnny was alright.

It took far quicker for them to finally kiss than Johnny thought it would. Just one late night, a bottle of Bourbon and a whispered admission later, Simon kissed him hard and rough.

Touch starved.

They didn't make it another day before they had a second kiss, or a third, or a fourth, for that matter.

The dam wall had broken and there was no way to contain months of feelings, mutual feelings, banter that was overstepping the line of flirting.

There was one rule that they'd established early on. A very clear line in the sand that would never be crossed.

No sex. No unwarranted touching. And they were taking everything at Ghost's pace…

Simon's pace.

Johnny had no problem with that, more than willing to let Simon be comfortable around him and find love without being pressured. Johnny's also relieved that their agreement spares him the awkward conversation about Johnny wanting to save himself for marriage.

So it works. They keep it wholesome and they enjoy each other's company and affection at their own pace.

Johnny's favourite time of day was the evening, those rare occasions he could slip into Ghost's room without suspicion and they could lie together, talking for hours, holding hands under the blankets.

One night, as Johnny watches Simon switch his uniform for a nondescript white t-shirt, he gets an idea that makes his face flush in an instant.

He's already sitting in the bed when the other man walks over to it, leaning over to give Johnny a kiss to his forehead.

"I want to ask you something, you can say no, but I just want to try."

"What is it?"

"I want to see you," Johnny says simply, hand hesitating over Ghost's shirt. "If it's alright with you?"

The other man looks like he's genuinely weighing out the options.

"Fine, but our trousers stay on, MacTavish," Ghost warns and Johnny gives him a confident nod and a smile.

"Aye, I'm in no rush. You forget, LT. I try not to stray too far from my virtue."

And that was true. There may have been examples of better, more virtuous men, but Johnny took pride in trying to keep to his faith, despite everything. It grounds him when they're under fire, gives him something to hold on to when he genuinely fears he might lose his life out there. It gives him something to hope for in the terrible scenario that he finds his lover dead, that they'll be reunited after death.

He spends most nights praying that they'll have enough time together. On his more optimistic, yearning days, he prays for a marriage. He wants more than just Ghost. He wants Simon in his arms, next to him every morning, kissing his temple on those nights he's shaking with nightmares from a past life.

He really is in no rush with Simon. There's much more to loving him than what's in his pants. He really wants Simon to understand that. He hopes after all he's been through, Johnny will be able to show him he deserves to be loved without the necessity of sex.

Ghost lets Johnny tug the shirt over his head and discard it on the floor next to the bed.

He sits back against the headboard and Johnny moves closer to sit between his knees, making sure to let Ghost know he's in control.

What Johnny finds beneath the fabric is no surprise, but he sucks in a sharp breath anyway.

"May I touch you?" He says before he's actually thought about it. Ghost gives him a bit of a dramatic eye roll but nods anyway.

From his position, leaning over Ghost with a soft, sympathetic smile on his lips, he ran a tender hand over the man's exposed collarbones, tracing his thumb gently over the skin in a way that dripped with the softest of affections.

It was a new thing, really. This level of intimacy between them, the times they're allowed to be gentle and meticulous with each other. Outside of the cover of night, Johnny and Simon's relationship was a fleeting thing that burned like fire. Untamed needing that manifested in desperate kisses, when the gunfire was muted and they pulled themselves into a corner to hold each other. Just to remind the other that they're still here, still breathing.

In those moments, its borderline painful when Simon tugs him closer by his heavy gear to kiss him like his life depended on it, only to release him moments later to find the others and act as though they did not know each other much more intimately than they let on.

This was none of that.

Johnny steadied his hand over the beating of Simon's heart, feeling the man still beneath his touch, like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop and something terrible to happen. But it doesn't.

Johnny would be lying if he said it didn't break his heart, though.

Simon's body knew no gentle touch. That much was evident with the amount of violence carved into him.

Jagged knife edges, bullet wounds, shrapnel.

Johnny grimly wondered if there was a pain left that he had not endured.

And here he is, with his body exposed to a man that could very nearly give him another to add to the ensemble on his chest.

Cautiously, as to not startle him, Johnny leaned forward and nosed against the soft dip of Ghost's neck, moving to trail soft kisses against the column of his throat.

He feels Simon's heart race under his palm, warm and steady in building hysteria. Soap smiles into his warm skin.

"Your skin is so soft."

He feels the heart rate rise again, heat flushing the man's neck against Johnny's mouth.

"I moisturise, fucking flawless isn't it?" Simon says simply, so deadpan that Johnny can't tell if he's trying to make light of the array of scars covering his body or genuinely happy with his skincare routine.

Either way, it makes Johnny smile.

"Aye. Not even a blemish."

Both men chuckle a little at that.

Johnny places his hands on Simon's shoulders, too afraid to put them elsewhere, and nuzzles his face into the side of his neck.

He takes in the sweet scent radiating from his skin and smiles a bit at the nostalgia it gives him.

He chuckles a little, shakes his head in half disbelief and just places an affectionate kiss to his neck.

"Simon Riley, stone cold killer, the Ghost himself, am I mistaken or do I detect a hint of baby oil?"

Johnny can barely keep the grin out of his voice as Simon's face goes a shade or two redder.

"I can't confirm anything, sergeant. M'fraid that's classified information."

Johnny hums into a kiss. Its slow and deliberate. He can almost feel the other man smiling against him.

This was so unusually soft for them, its new territory. But he likes it.

He takes his time now, in the silence, the absence of danger around them.

Johnny prefers this to an adrenaline high kiss after a gunfight any day, even if opportunities like this are rare.

He likes taking his time figuring out what Simon likes, being gentle with him.

This was progress, though. Simon's never been comfortable enough to take his shirt off.

Simon flinches slightly when Johnny drags a hand down his chest, stopping a considerable distance above the waistband of his trousers, but it still gets a reaction out of him.

Simon's hand shoots out to grab him by the wrist, eyes wide with something that looked a lot like fear.

Johnny retracted his hands in an instant, offering him a soft apology.

"It's just me, you're alright."

Simon's breathing eases and Johnny gives him a moment to compose himself. He's not Roba. He's not that son of a bitch who Simon was unfortunate enough to call a father, either.

Johnny knows what happened. There's no way the ominous line my father used to taunt me with snakes as a kid" didn't have a far more sinister meaning behind it. He knows Simon was a cheap commodity when he was with Roba, for anyone to use when they needed to blow off steam.

He's gathered as much from the muttered words in his sleep, the pamphlet on living with childhood sexual trauma Johnny'd accidently found, collecting dust in his desk drawer. He doesn't ask questions about why the man insists on showering twice a day and never feeling quite clean.

He wants to give back what those two stole from him.

Control.

"Too low?"

A grunt of acknowledgement. A yes.

"Okay, its your call, LT. We can stop or you can put my hands where you want them."

For a moment, Simon genuinely weighed out the options before slowly reaching for Johnny's hands and placing his open palms on his chest. Warm. Wanted.

Johnny's eyes never strayed from Simon's, the searing eye contact burning a warm glow in his stomach.

He needs to stop before he loses himself to the heat of the moment.

But oh–

Simon presses Johnny's hands onto his chest and Johnny squeezes his pectoral muscles lightly, cautious but gentle.

A small, stuttered sigh escaped Simon beneath him.

"Is this alright?"

A barely perceptible nod. Like a delicately balanced art, where he was on the edge of tipping over into uncertainty, but he trusted Johnny enough to let him do this.

He's almost afraid to touch him, to move his hands from that one position, but he traces the skin tentatively, mapping out every one of the man's acquired scars in safe reach.

Just to say, 'I see your imperfections, I love them, I love you'.

I love you…

It seems like the easiest thing in the world to say, but it gets caught in his throat.

He punctuates the unsaid affection with a kiss to the space between his eyebrows, feeling Simon furrow his brow in thought.

Johnny feels the scar tissue of a knife wound under his palm but it doesn't bother him in the slightest.

He's hyper aware of how stuttered Simon's breathing has become, as though Johnny's beginning to unwind the coil of tension keeping him rigid and silent.

It offers Johnny a boldness he doesn't expect.

Watching Simon's face intently, Johnny brushed a thumb carefully over the other man's nipple. His expression remained mostly the same, except for a swallowed whimper that gets caught in his throat.

It's a beautiful sight really, seeing him so vulnerable but trusting enough to let this happen. Johnny tries to memorize the image of him, bare skin under his hands, mouth tipped open ever so slightly, uneven breaths, racing heartbeat.

There's a stray lock of hair fallen out of place and covering his forehead that Johnny brushed back into position.

"Still alright?"

"Affirmative."

Johnny feels need creep closer at the sound, staining his senses red with a different kind of heat he doesn't want to indulge himself in.

Not now. Not with Simon still seeing his abusers burned into his eyelids. It wouldn't be right.

And he wants to marry the man first. He wants to do it right, treat him right. Love him the way he deserves.

Simon is a marvel, a beautifully dangerous man, scars and all.

He's startled when he feels warm hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt and he looks up to find urgent brown eyes.

"May I?"

Johnny nods, trying not to look too eager. He helps Simon in removing his shirt. Heat rushes to his cheeks as the man gives him a once over.

He'd lie if he said he wasn't more than a little intimidated by Simon's gaze. His eyes were just as intense without the mask as they were when he was wearing it.

It's Simon that makes the first move, pulling Johnny down to kiss him, pushing their chests together. Skin against skin, at long last.

"Hands where I can see them, Johnny," Ghost warns against his mouth and Johnny immediately moves his hands to steady himself against the headboard behind Simon instead.

Simon's calloused fingers brush up from his hip, counting his ribs with his thumbs, mapping him. Taking stock of each scar on his body, now seeming inconsequential in comparison to Simon's scars.

He'd be a liar if he said he didn't feel vulnerable like this.

He's watched those very hands, now digging into his skin with gentle, pliant heat, kill men without mercy. He's seen the violence that could come from him just as much as he knows the affection.

He wonders who the last person was that Simon touched with so much tenderness. Selfishly, he sort of hopes he's the first.

Simon pulls him in for another kiss, a more heated, desperate one than the first.

Johnny's just glad he's feeling comfortable enough to initiate things.

It's a long way from where they started, where even the subtlest of affection would set him on edge.

Johnny savours the warmth of his hands against his waist, keeping him in place. He dutifully keeps his hands on the headrest until Simon clumsily reaches for them and rests them tentatively in the dips of his hips.

He's hesitant and his hands shake far too much for him to be completely sure of himself.

But Johnny knows how hard this is. This wasn't Ghost, this was Simon. The man he tried to bury over years of indifference, coldness.

Ghost has never trusted anyone else with Simon and Johnny feels honoured to know him behind that mask.

He's not an unfeeling killing machine. He's just a man.

His train of thought is broken when Simon speaks.

"You need someone better than me, Johnny. You deserve someone pretty."

Simon's gaze is fixated on Johnny's exposed skin, comparing it to the state of his own with more than a little pain in his eyes.

Just thinking about the self loathing in that statement makes his blood boil. Simon didn't lose his innocence to a man who couldn't control himself or get used as a means of pleasure against his will to call himself undesirable or unworthy.

Johnny cups a hand to Simon's jaw, stroking his thumb along three day old stubble.

"You're beautiful, Simon. If anyone dares tell you otherwise, I'll put a bullet through their fucking skull."

Simon scoffs, reaching for one of Johnny's hands and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "You really know your way to a man's heart, Johnny."

"Aye, so you admit, there is a heart in there somewhere?"

"Fuck off."

But it's far too affectionate for him to mean it.

They decide to call it a night soon after that, before things get too serious.

Johnny meets urgent brown eyes and offers the man one last, chaste kiss before he turns to his side of the bed.

"Suppose we should be getting to bed, don't wanna push you too far in one night," Johnny says as he retrieves Simon's shirt from the floor. He slips back into his own.

Johnny says it in part for himself and the rapidly approaching arousal he wants to keep at an arm's distance. He needs to think of something else before he gets himself too worked up.

The last thing he wants to do is make Simon uncomfortable. Heaven forbid he has more need for that pamphlet in the desk drawer. He doesn't want to trigger anything from his past.

Johnny can't bear the thought of hurting Ghost. It makes him physically sick.

Wordlessly, they settle into bed and Johnny turns to face the other man.

They're tired. They both are.

When the silence has settled just enough to lay heavy, a thoughtful little smile finds Johnny's lips. He finds the strength to say the words.

"Love you, Si."

Simon says nothing but intertwines their fingers under the blanket and raises their clasped hands to his mouth for a kiss to Johnny's knuckle.

Johnny lies there a while, awake, in quiet reverie.

In rare moments like these, the banter dies away and unmasks what lies beneath it. The raw emotion, the history and the heartbreak. They say it, all the things they can't express during the day.

The honesty catches them sober and still overtakes them.

He savours the moment, because he knows all the walls they broke down tonight will be back in the morning and this will all feel like a fever dream.

While he still has this, has them, Johnny loops an arm around Simon's waist and pulls him against his chest, holding the man protectively against him.

"I promise as long as I'm here, LT, I'll never let anyone lay a hand on you again."

It's enough honesty for one night.

Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal.

#simon ghost riley #soapghost #john soap mactavish #call of duty #cod #fanfic #fanfiction #ghostsoap #ghoap #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 #soap x ghost fanfiction #ghoap fanfic #my writing #ao3 link

[doxypsychlean]

Hey! I was wondering if you still accept requests about Aegon? I will make it clear that English is not my first language, I am from Brazil. A request involving a relationship similar to the couple (if and what you can call that a couple) with Catarina the great and her husband Peter the great. From the big series. But once I apologize for my scratching English. I love your work, kisses from Brazil.

You are not capable of love

Aegon II x Targ!Reader

Warnings: ?

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Yep, still accepting requests! Tho I sure as hell take my time w posting the results... Anyway, here's this one! Hope yall like the results. Not that sure if I got it right tbf, but meh... Oh, and here's some info on this one- Rhaenyra steps down as her daughter marries Aegon, leaving him to be crowned King. In reality, she sees that her child is the one that holds the power. Yep, that's about it. Cheers!

She cringed at her husband's question. He'd been asking her the same thing for so long now, it was getting tiring.

"What's it going to take? I've given you all I have! All I fucking am!"

"Aegon..." She sighed in annoyance as she stood up, shaking his hands off of hers. "I do not have time for this."

"No one ever has time for me. Not you, not my mother or father, not my siblings. No one." Prince Aegon whispered, eyes glued to where his wife had been sitting.

He'd been in search of someone that would all his life. The hope never died, even when the news of his betrothal to his niece were made public. Aegon wasn't stupid, no. The prince knew his sister and mother had only agreed to it, so they could mend the fences between the two families. So the Greens and the Blacks could have at least one reason to not strike at eachother's throats.

And yet, he still hoped. Even after she pushed him away on their first night together as husband and wife, sending him out of their shared quarters. Even after the Queen started avoiding him, turning her back and walking the other way whenever she saw him in the halls of the Red Keep. Even after she'd drag his name through the dirt to anyone that was willing to listen.

In his search for her love, he'd allowed her to sit at the small council meetings and make the big decision in his name. He even surrendered the Iron Throne to her, leaving the Queen to sit upon it herself as she did as she wished. His father's crown on her head. Aegon never protested. Never said a word against her. Agreed with her, even when he thought she wasn't right. Took all the humiliation in silence. Sat through all the jokes without saying a word to defend himself. As if he had any right to. It was all true. He'd given everything he had to his name away, only so he could see her smile as she took it.

One would think the young king would've come to his senses, once he caught his beloved in bed with his own brother. All Aegon did instead, was mutter a weak "Excuse me" as he made his way out of the room. Aegon didn't get mad at her on that night. Nor did he on any night that came after it. Instead, he got mad at himself. It was obvious- he just wasn't enough. She needed a strong man. Stronger than he ever was. He understood. His wife wasn't at fault. Who could blame her, just look at what she'd been made to marry.

And his brother... That damned one-eyed bastard was everything he wasn't. Aemond was strong, intelligent. Aemond was a skilled warrior. He rode the biggest dragon in the world. Who was he, compared to his younger brother? No one, that's who.

So Aegon swore he'd get better. Be better. He read all the history books. And this time payed attention to what was written in them. He trained, harder than he'd ever had. He even managed to defeat both Ser Criston and Aemond at the same time, knocking the two down to the ground. But his wife didn't reward him with a proud smile. No. Instead she ran over to Aemond with a worried look on her face. Instead of wrapping her arms around her husband's neck, she wrapped them around his younger brother as she helped him get back on his feet. He still wasn't enough.

"I am fond of you." She said once she noticed the defeated look on his face.

"But you don't love me."

"No."

It got easier with the years. They'd found a way to coexist, hardly ever getting in eachother's way.

"Is he better than me?"

"Hm?" She asked without words, her naked body shining with sweat as her chest heaved.

"My brother...Is he?"

"I honestly don't remember, Aegon."

It was his turn to let out a confused hum, his brows furrowing.

"I haven't been with your brother in years. You didn't know?"

"What? Why?"

"I don't need him." The Queen smiled softly. Her delicate fingers traced mindlessly over the skin on his naked chest. Aegon looked at her with searching eyes, hand reaching up to stop her as he propped himself up on one elbow.

"What do you mean? Who then?"

She huffed as she threw her head back, hand tearing free from his grasp.

"Who do you think?" The woman asked as she laid on his chest, her head finding place under his chin.

"With the risk of repeating myself for who knows which-"

"Yes, Aegon. I love you." She laughed out, the sound finding its way through skin, flesh and bones, untill it reached his heart and wrapped around it tightly.

The moment of bliss was interrupted by a small voice that came through like a foghorn.

"Mother, Aemon won't give me my toy back!"

"You or me?" She whispered.

"I'll deal with them, you stay here." Aegon said as he got up, wrapping one of the sheets that were now in a ball at their feet, around his waist. "I'm not done with you for tonight, wife."

Before he swung the door open, her voice came from behind his back. It was barely above a whisper, as if the words weren't meant to reach his ears.

"I've loved you for so long now..."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #dance of dragons #hotd #game of thrones #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen

[bloodpen-to-paper]

You wanna know something real fuckin ironic?

Rei was already letting Miri go. He and Kazuki agreed to have her go with Misaki, and for the two of them to cut all contact. Rei was on the path to becoming the Suwa heir, free of distractions. He was becoming detached again, thinking he could never change. Shigeki already had what he wanted.

And yet, that wasn't enough. Shigeki got greedy, and that greed made him nervous. It made him fumble.

Because by having a distant source that Rei would no longer be distracted by, but was still attached to, not only did Shigeki have Rei where he wanted him, he even had leverage. Rei said point blank he'd do anything Shigeki wanted, kill anyone he ordered Rei kill, as long as Miri be left alone. Shigeki had everything he needed to keep his ace card under his thumb. Unfortunately, he's not as good at gambling as he thought, because his winning move was to threaten the one thing that would make Rei desert.

You see, Shigeki thought that Rei was too changed by his time with Miri and Kazuki to ever truly be the way he envisioned, and that Rei would at some point get distracted by his little family, by that life. In the event that Rei reversed his decision to separate from Miri (and that's only if Rei actually went through with it), it most likely would have happened later, with enough build up over a prolonged period that Rei would eventually grow tired of his life as a Suwa and leave. In the meantime, Shigeki had a Rei who was still currently loyal to him, and dedicated to becoming the Suwa heir. You know what that means? Shigeki had time. Time to ensure that Rei would not go back on his decision. Time to wear Rei down and make him truly loyal, which over the years could allow Shigeki to remove Miri from the picture permanently without worrying about Rei defecting.

But Shigeki jumped the gun. He was too nervous about the idea of Rei having changed that he completely misjudged just how far Rei had done so. He thought Rei was loyal (afraid) enough towards him that he could still do whatever he wanted and Rei would just accept it, but as Mei from Avatar once said, "I love Zuko [Miri] more than I fear you", and that was Shigeki's mistake. He made the wrong assessment of thinking that the robotic shell he had made out of his son was still exactly the same as he had been before he moved out of the Suwa mansion, despite every sign pointing to the opposite, that Rei now had feelings and wants and a family he was willing to stick by. Change like this means means you also need to change up the formula, work around the new information to come up with a solution that fits the current situation. Yet Shigeki's fear made him forget his logic, because he used the same old methods and failed to realize that his way didn't work anymore. The wound from the separation was too fresh, Rei hadn't yet adjusted to life without Miri, and he hadn't even moved away from Kazuki at that point. If Shigeki had been patient, he'd of had the most ideal outcome given the change, and yet he still managed to shoot himself in the foot by overreacting and inadvertently causing Rei to desist.

In other words, Suwa Shigeki is an idiot.

In other words, Suwa Shigeki fucked up.

#poetic cinema #if you will #buddy daddies #buddy daddies spoilers #rei suwa #shigeki suwa

[im-a-king-baby]

Hiii i loved ELYN so much.

I was hoping for any other tidbits/stories/scenes about Simon carrying the frog in the sock. i just wondered if it was like his comfort object or like the orange sweater etc. .That was one of my favorite scenes when Wille finds it

And/or “i wanted to wake up with you” i dont think i will ever forget that line.

💜 thank youuuu

Okay so I'm sorry this is so very late. Life has been a Lot 😅 hopefully folks are still interested in my ramblings!

<3 <S <3

"I wanted to wake up with you."

Fun fact: I almost cut this line. It was originally in the first draft where Simon never made the late-night-call that led everyone to Bjarstad and I was worried that after I'd made that change this line would put people off Simon, because at this point (in theory) Simon knows that Wilhelm had to get up because of what Simon did during the night so it's a bit unfair to Wilhelm. But then I figured Simon's in withdrawal, he's going to be resentful and frustrated and just because intellectually he knows it's his fault that doesn't mean he's not still having those feelings.

As far as the wanting goes, Simon is just dragging himself through life at the moment. He had this whole spiral of failing to sleep, eventually managed it by basically promising himself a future where he'd wake up and things would still be like they were when they went to bed, just the two of them avoiding the world. Plus withdrawal emotions, plus Candace showing up, the bubble is fully burst and this line is Simon tired and resentful and having to face it.

In case you're interested in how things change in editing, this is the first draft version of this moment (in this version Candace showed up basically the moment the queen left which would have been one hell of a coincidence).

“People always leave before I wake up. Maybe they think I’ll be less fun sober, probably they’re right.” “I wasn’t trying to leave you.” “Okay.” It’s the same tone of voice, accepting but not believing. “Are you going back to Stockholm with her?” He pushes himself off the wall, crossing into the kitchen and opening cupboards at random. It’s Friday morning. Wilhelm is due on TV at six PM. He’s supposed to be attending multiple prep meetings, seeing a stylish and a make-up artist before that. Minou is no doubt already at full panic stations. “I can stay if you want me to.” He stands up as Simon emerges from a cupboard with a half full bottle of vodka. “I can help you look for a lawyer. Or we could go for a walk.” Simon unscrews the bottle. “If you want to go, you can go.” The roar of an engine surges outside. Simon is closer to the window, and Wilhelm sees the moment his face shuts down, the inevitability of it, a moment before he sees Candace emerge from a sleek white car. “I want to be here for you. If you’ll let me,” Wilhelm says, picking at a conversation that’s already died as Simon braces his shoulders like a solider going into battle and tilts the bottle up to take three long swallows. Candace raps three times on the door. “Simme! Open this door right the fuck now.” Simon looks at Wilhelm over the bottle. “I wanted to wake up with you.”

x🐸🐸🐸x THE FROG x🐸🐸🐸x

After six hours of meetings a car comes to drive him to the hotel. Rachel tells him to order whatever he likes from room service and to be in the lobby for seven thirty the next morning and then he’s letting himself into a luxury hotel room. There’s a lounge, a bedroom, a bathroom with a full size bath and a separate shower with six different heads.

He takes the frog out of his bag and places it on the bedside table overlooking the pillow then pulls out his phone. He’d messaged Wilhelm when he arrived (Landed! Hopefully someone comes to pick me up!) and now he sees Wilhelm has texted three times since.

Good luck! La doesnt know whats hit it! Everything okay? I’m awake, no plans today whenever you want to call

Simon texts back: Sorry! Dumped straight into meetings all day. I’m kind of exhausted, can we do tomorrow?

Wilhelm: Of course! Jet lags a bitch. Sleep well, I love you xxx

Simon picks up the menu off the side but his stomach is still protesting the bagel it thinks it had in the middle of the night and he kicks off his trainers and his jeans and crawls into the mega bed.

After a moment, he reaches over and picks up the frog again, runs his thumb across the nose, and settles back down with it’s weight firm in his palm as he types: Love you toox

x🐸x

Candace tells him they’re going to Sweden in the same matter-of-fact voice she uses to tell him anything. The label won’t approve a third single. We have to crowdfund plane tickets. We can’t afford to keep the whole band, who can you live without? I’ve booked us a week in Stockholm and put word out to local news sites and venues, we’ll be taking the buses up there after Paris.

Simon reaches for his backpack on instinct, touches the front pocket where Wilhelm’s frog has been nestled since they left L.A. “Should I… I should call Wilhelm, right? Let him know?”

Candace glances at him over her iPad. “Sure,” she says. “Let me know if you need me to put him on the List.”

Simon leaves the meeting, twisting his phone over and over between his hands. They’re going to Sweden. For the first time since he flew out and it’s - he glances at his phone again - it’s September.

Fuck, it’s September. It’s September 2024, somehow. It’s been over a year since he left Sweden, since he last saw Wilhelm. He scrolls through the contacts on his phone but Wilhelm isn’t in there, of course Wilhelm isn’t in there, Simon got this phone back in L.A. and he hadn’t had time to transfer anything across. That had been last Christmas. Ten months ago and god, where had that time gone?

He could ask Candace to get Wilhelm’s number. That’s what she does, she sorts things. Wilhelm doesn’t answer the phone to unknown numbers. Obviously. But Simon could write a text or something. Hi, this is Simon. I know you said there was no way we could make it work because I was so busy all the time but I’m going to be in Sweden and I’ll still be busy all the time and you’re probably off in the army somewhere but -

It sounds stupid. It is stupid. There is no ‘but’, they don’t work and that has always been abundantly clear.

He unzips his backpack and the frog is there in it’s tiny golden crown, glitter still clinging to the paint because glitter is a bitch that can never be removed.

There’s a scratch across it’s nose, deep enough that Simon’s nail can catch against it. Hi Wilhelm, this is Simon, I know we haven’t talked for a while but I need to give you your frog back because you trusted me to keep one thing safe and I couldn’t even -

He scrolls back up his contacts to Guitar, Kevan and types: drinks?

His suitcase is at the edge of the room, surrounded by a scattering of costume pieces and toiletries. He digs through chains and glitter to find a pair of probably-clean socks and tucks the frog inside, where it’ll be safe.

His phone buzzes: party in 267

He just needs something to calm his nerves, to settle his stomach.

He’ll ask Candace to get the number tomorrow. Or, there’s a show tomorrow, next time he has a free minute.

He tucks the bundle down into the case and heads out of the room.

x🐸x

His case is still on the floor of his bedroom half full from tour. Technically he’s been back in L.A. for two months but unpacking was one of those ‘I’ll do it later’ things that has now somehow come full circle. He tugs out clothes, nudging them into the ever growing laundry for the cleaners to pick up once he’s gone.

His hand finds something solid and he pulls it out. Socks, with something inside, and his throat catches as he remembers September, Sweden. Everyone talking to him in Swedish, fans screaming 'jag älskar dig!' like it wasn’t… like…

Candace promised the next tour could skip it. And if he’s not going to Sweden, he can’t give the frog back, so there’s no point having it. He doesn’t need it.

He folds the socks around it a little tighter, stands up to push it into the back of his sock drawer, underneath everything else. It’ll be safer there.

Two days later the taxi is honking it’s horn outside as he runs back into the room, upends the whole drawer on the floor and grabs the wrapped bundle, shoving it into his pocket on his way out the door.

x🐸x

There’s a fresh bruise forming on his collarbone, a faded one on the side of his neck, a man whose name he doesn’t know snoring face down on the cheap polyester pillows.

He runs his thumb back and forth across the nose of the tiny frog statue, lets his head thump back against the wall to stare up at the ceiling and count down the hours until dawn.

#elyn fic #elyn ficlet #commentary meme #I got a new job and I moved house and I have not done any writing in weeks #but hopefully I'll be more settled soon #tw: alcohol #tw: addiction #classic angst #what I learned from the wake up line is that I should never assume people will think bad things about simon #he is a precious angel

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

To Soothe the Savage Beast

Pairing: Dean x Y/N

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None. All fluff and some kissing.

Word Count: 704

A/N: Approppos of nothing, here is a grumpy!dean drabble. I was seeing lots of grumpy!dean on my dash, and I wanted to kiss his grumpiness better, so this came into my head!! Hope it makes you smile! I've barely edited it, so it might be crap. Sorry! 😁

The beautiful dividers both below and at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89

"God damn! Son of a bitch!"

Y/N heard Dean's resounding yell echo through the bunker, urging her to seek him out and try to fix things for him.

She knew he was in a rotten mood.

He'd woken up in a rotten mood and continued in that same rotten mood all morning and now into the afternoon.

The boys had come home the day before, having finally finished their latest, very long, drawn-out hunt. They'd take out the wraith that had been victimizing a retirement community but not without major issues.

One elderly man had been killed before the boys got onto the case, but thankfully no one else had been lost. But they'd been met with problems at every turn during the hunt - law enforcement getting after them, no one in the community willing to talk about what they were seeing.

But probably most frustrating of all, the wraith had stolen Baby in an attempted get away and ended up smashing her into a street light.

Dean had woken up this morning with one driving mission - fix his Baby.

But from what Y/N had seen of him so far that day - just angrily stalking back and forth from the bunker to the garage, muttering curses and grumpily turning down her offer to make him lunch - the car repair was NOT going well.

She wandered into the garage just as Dean swore again and kicked his big, heavy tool box that was sitting beside Baby's left front tire.

Then he swore louder because of his throbbing toes.

Y/N walked up behind him. "Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Dean swiveled to face her, his beautiful face just a thundercloud of anger and frustration.

"Everything!" He shouted. "Fucking everything is wrong!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, and an actual growl came up from deep in his throat.

"God damn wraith threw out the alignment completely when he smashed it into that pole! And I'm trying to fix it, but Baby is just fighting me every step of the way!"

He scowled angrily down at his beloved Impala, letting her know he was less than impressed.

"And then Sam -"

Before he could explain what Sam had done to piss him off, Y/N reached up on tiptoes to plant a hard, but short, kiss on his downturned mouth.

When she pulled away, Dean was quiet for a moment from the surprise interruption. But he was soon continuing on.

"No, Y/N listen, Sam left over an hour ago to pick up the right size wrenches I need because, despite the fact that I know I always put them back, every time, somehow whatever size wrench I need is always the one that I'm missing. But it's ridiculous cause the hardware store is barely twenty minutes away, but Sam is-"

He was cut off again by Y/N; this time she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him longer. As soon as she let go though, the scowl was back and he took a deep breath to continue his tirade.

So finally she pulled his mouth down to hers and reached deep inside, sucking on his tongue, and slanting her mouth over his again and again until finally she could feel the tension in his body ease. Then she pulled back and smiled happily up at him.

"What ARE you doing?" Dean asked his voice laced with desire and a bit of confusion now, instead of anger.

Y/N placed one more tiny, swift, kiss on his lips. "Making you feel better. Is it working?"

Dean thought for a minute and then put on a faux scowl. But his eyes were teasing as he shook his head.

"Nope. Still grumpy. Better try again."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the Impala.

"Well, how about we give Baby some time to think about her attitude, and give Sam time to find his way back from being lost in the hardware store. Our bed is all made, and just waiting for us to mess it up again."

Dean nodded and followed along docilely, a small smile replacing the angry little dimples on his face.

Y/N knew just how to make his day better.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@siospins2

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@candy-coated-misery0731

@nt-multi-fandom

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@perpetualabsurdity

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@emily-winchester

@recoveringpastaaddict

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only.

@saikosheadcanons

@lgranger67

@carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

@sunshineandwings86

@kazsrm67

@sexyvixen7

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@awkward-and-indecisive

@maliburenee

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@ellie-andthemachine

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester drabble

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Single Dad! Eddie Munson/ Steve Harrington

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 1,584

Series Summary: Eddie left Hawkins in 1986 with no reason to ever return. But now, a few years have passed and life has changed. Eddie finally returns home and has to deal with everything he left behind, including Steve Harrington. This story starts in May 1991.

Chapter Summary: Eddie's new car needs a lot of work. He finds a mechanic that is willing to fix it up for him.

Stranger Things Masterlist

Steddie Masterlist

Series Masterlist

~~~~~

On Sunday morning Steve showed up at the truck stop for lunch. He timed it just right today, walking through the door only moments after Eddie punched his timecard for the end of his shift. 

"So," Steve started as he took his usual seat at the bar. "How we feelin' about that car?" 

Eddie filled two coffee mugs, sliding them both to Steve before making his way around the counter. He sat next to Steve, wrapping his fingers around his mug. "Will he do $300?" Steve nodded before taking a drink from his own cup. "Then I'm interested." Steve smiled as the two made plans for him to pick Eddie up in a few hours.

The man selling the car was much older than Eddie. He acted a lot like Wayne. No nonsense, all business. He didn't want to make small talk with the boys when they showed up at his house. He counted the twenties Eddie handed him, then handed over the keys and title. 

"Needs new tires," was more or less the only words he said. Steve assured both the man and Eddie that he would make sure that was all taken care of. 

The next morning was Eddie's day off. He had been looking forward to spending time with Lucy and Wayne. He thought maybe they'd go to the park, or just a stroll around town and enjoy the nice weather. But instead today seemed as though it would be full of phone calls. Trying to find the cheapest insurance, the cheapest mechanic, the cheapest place to get new tires since he could put those on himself. 

"There's a kid at Joe's that does good work," Wayne told him after his third phone call of the morning. "Pretty boy, but he's good with cars." 

Eddie knew Joe and his shop well. He'd spent many a day and many a dollar there before he left Hawkins, when he still had the Chevy. He nodded, figuring Joe might be his best bet. Maybe, if he were lucky, he'd let Eddie pay off the repairs over time. 

When Eddie pulled his new-to-him car into the parking lot at Joe's, the dashboard clock had just ticked past 1:15. He'd ended up spending the morning with his family after all and Lucy was now safe with a neighbor. She was a few years older than Eddie and had two kids of her own. She assured him watching her while he ran to the mechanic would be no big deal. 

He put the car into park beside an old Ford pickup that had no hood or tires. A parts car. He looked out over the parking lot and spotted someone with their head firmly planted under the hood of a new looking Cadillac. 

He couldn't see who it was, but they were working hard. The sleeves of their white t-shirt rolled up, exposing toned, muscular shoulders. Sweat and grease gleaming under the early summer sun as he hunched over his work. Eddie couldn't help but to notice that his t-shirt was riding up in the back, exposing a strip of tanned skin just above his jeans. 

Eddie's mind was a million different places as he sat in his car. Would he be able to afford to fix this piece of shit? Is Lucy okay with the neighbor girl? Who was this "pretty boy" his uncle told him about? Was he the one up to his elbows under the hood of the Cadillac across the lot? Would he have to pay his neighbor for watching Lucy if it was less than an hour? Who the fuck is under that hood? 

Just as Eddie was reaching to open the car door, the mystery man turned to face him. Just like that first morning in the truck stop, Eddie was stunned to stillness. Steve Harrington. In all his glory. 

He smiled a soft, uneven sort of smile as he walked towards Eddie. He wiped grease from his hands on an old shop towel that he shoved into his back pocket as he got closer to the car. Eddie was finally able to swing the creaky door open, standing to greet Steve when he reached him. 

"Told ya I knew a guy," Steve laughed. 

"Conveniently forgot to mention that I also knew the guy," Eddie giggled. He was almost nervous, he realized. He shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans, feeling his cheeks go warm as the sight in front of him. 

Steve Harrington wearing jeans that didn't fit quite right. Covered head to toe in grease and oil. Eddie noticed again how toned his arms were. A few years of fixing cars must have turned him from the soft boy Eddie had known to a hardened, almost chiseled young man. Eddie felt his mouth go dry as he took in Steve's figure. 

"So, uh," Eddie caughed, the silence between them just a few moments past awkward. "How much you think it'll be?" He asked, kicking at the tire with the toe of his shoe. 

"Pop the hood?" Steve asked, but he was already taking steps towards the front of the vehicle. 

Eddie did as he was told. He reached into the driver's side door and pulled up on the small latch near the steering wheel. The hood popped and Steve lifted it over his head, resting it on the strut beneath it. Eddie was entranced by the way Steve's arms moved. He mentally slapped himself for looking at Steve like that when he was trying to help him. Sure, it had been a while since Eddie had gotten any action. But this was Steve. 

He came to stand beside Steve, crossing his arms as he looked over his shoulder. "Good news is the engine is actually in pretty good shape," Steve announced, looking up over his shoulder to Eddie. "Made sure of that before I even told you about it. But everything else seems to be at various levels of fucked." 

Eddie smiled down to him, "Gve me a list." 

"In order of importance; brakes, pads, alternator, and tires first. Have you been having trouble starting it?" 

"I've only driven it twice," Eddie giggled. 

"Right," Steve smiled. "Just asking because John said it would need a new alternator when we talked about it. That's why he dropped the price. But that's a fairly easy fix. Shouldn't take more than a few hours." 

"A few hours and how much money?" Eddie finally asked. 

Steve stood up straight, crossing his own arms to match Eddie's stance. He leaned back against the car, resting his butt against it, his head stopping just in front of the open hood. "I could do it for free," he offered with a shrug. 

"No," Eddie answered. "Not happening. How much?" 

"Look, Eddie, I'm not saying I'll give you a whole new car or anything. But we have plenty of less shitty parts lying around to get you by." 

"Okay fine, but you're not doing it for free." 

"I'm offering," Steve argued. "Just let someone be nice to you for once." 

"I don't need charity, Steve." 

"It's not charity. It's one friend who is able to help another friend. That's kinda what friends are for," he smiled. "Plus, I know you're trying to get on your feet. And I'm no expert, but I hear babies can be quite the money suck." 

Eddie sighed, his gaze falling to his feet. "So, you know about Lucy, huh?" 

"Didn't know her name was Lucy," Steve answered. His lips formed a smile around her name and Eddie felt a pang in his chest. He'd always liked Lucy's name, that's why he picked it from Billie's otherwise awful list of names. But hearing Steve say it with a lilt of affection made him like it that much more. "But even I could put two and two together when you were buying diapers at Melvalds the other day." 

"You don't have to do all this for free," Eddie argued again, a bit less urgently. "Don't think Joe would appreciate you being on the clock and not making money, anyway."

"Bring it by after 6 and he won't even know," Steve shrugged again. "I'll work on it for a few hours a night and you can pay with the pleasure of your company." 

"You'd really do that?" 

"I really would." 

Eddie wanted to hug Steve. He didn't, of course. Steve was covered in gunk and they'd never hugged before. But he wanted to. He accepted the offer,  begrudgingly agreeing to be back the following evening at 6 pm. 

When Eddie knocked on his neighbors door fifteen minutes later he couldn't stop smiling. She'd brushed off his offer to pay at first. When he explained that he'd need someone to keep an eye on her for a few hours a night while he got his car fixed, she was sweet and understanding. She finally agreed to let him pay her $10 a week for a few hours of sitting with her in the evenings. She laughed, arguing that he didn't need to pay her to watch his daughter sleep. But he insisted. 

Once the pair got home and he settled into the couch, he let himself think. He looked to Lucy, playing with toys on the floor. He glanced around him at the living room he'd grown up in. He realized in that moment that maybe moving back to Hawkins wasn't a punishment. Maybe he should have been here all along.

~~~~~

previous part // next part

~~~~~

#steddie fanfiction #steddie fan fic #steddie fanfic #steddie angst #steddie fluff #steddie imagine #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #eddie/steve #eddie x steve #single dad eddie munson #girl dad eddie munson

[summerlycoris]

Okay so I'm putting this here because Dad really fucking pissed me off today and If I don't write something I'll just-

So I was helping him to put in a veranda and ramp on the front of my house today. Work projects with Dad would be difficult, but not misery, if he could just. Fucking. Not be a dick for 5 seconds.

Unfortunately my dad has "must be a dick every 5 seconds " disease so that's never fucking happening lmao lol roflmao.

Anyway. He was ragging out my brothers girlfriend Rochelle. And yeah. She's got problems. Neither of us can see the relationship lasting. (Rochelle's nice, but not to brodie. She let's her anxiety get the best of her, and constantly embarrasses him in front of their friends making out of line jokes, and emotionally abusing him.)

Dad thinks the reason they're not going to last is that Rochelle is on disability and is "a leech" "She's going nowhere." He used himself (hes not fucking diagnosed. And normally im all for self diagnosis. But not for this cuntwad. I WILL gatekeep from my damn dad because fuck him thats why.) me and my brother as examples of disabled people who don't need help.

And that ticked me off. Because I do need help. I just don't get help. Brodie needs help too. He just can't get it. Hell, maybe if dad had help as a kid he wouldn't have been such a bastard when we were kids. (He's fucked up 2/3 kids. Bad odds when your a parent. And he's still got plenty of time to fuck up the 3rd kid! SHES ONLY 4 YEARS OLD.)

I can't remember exactly, but I try to tell him that my life wasn't great and that I could've used some help. He asks how my life sucked so bad.

And I'm just fucking gobsmacked. Mum did this too recently- despite literally being the one to say that she thought I was gonna off myself at 11 years old years ago. Do these two not have any fucking memories?

I told him I'd been bullied all through school. (Couldn't exactly tell him he'd treated me like dirt whenever he was home) and he was like "well you're living a better life than your bullies. I bet they don't own a house."

I got so fucking angry. And I couldn't explain it at the time. But I can now- it doesn't matter what YOU think. Or what Mum thinks. Or what the fucking goldfish think. You don't live my life! And my opinions the one that matters, because im the one living that life. And I think my life's kinda shit!

I can't make friends. Not because I'm necessarily bad at talking to people (I can mask better now than I ever could as a kid) but because I just can't feel the same way about talking to people as I could as a kid. Like this may not make any sense- but when I was a kid before everything? I liked talking to people. It wasn't a chore. I didn't have to overanalise everything. But now it is. I quickly finish up talking to people thinking something like "Thank god that's over" or "Thank god that didn't go badly" and it's so. Fucking. Tiring.

So I'm gonna be alone forever. Not because of some incel bullshit. But just because I literally can't do it. I just can't fucking do it right. I can't go back to being 8 and being excited to meet someone new. I can't even go back to being 19 and bring willing to try making friends.

I'm 28. And I've spent most of my life being lonely.

And he's like- you've got the autism support group- but we meet once a month and I sometimes can't even MAKE it due to work and there's acquaintances. I don't even know most of their NAMES.

And it all just sent me into a tailspin honestly. Like the day was okay until he decided to be himself and trod over some exposed nerves. Then run his fucking jeep over them for good measure.

He's like "your like van goth" and I'm like "he killed himself" and he says "but you won't do rhat" and honestly dad? There's still fucking time. Better 17 years late than never huh????

Fuck, I needed to get that off my chest. I can't stand him. I really can't. But I kinda have to because I want to still know mum and nikara.

It's just amazing how he can just. Always find a way to ruin my day. Today was supposed to be good. It's autism group meet up night. I'm supposed to take Rochelle and one of brodies friends there. But I think if I go tonight I'll just be a miseryguts and cry everywhere. And I've got a surprise work shift tomorrow from 7-3pm. And then my fucking On Week at work. Despite not really having much time off from it and work doing a number on me even during my fucking off week this week. It's just not worth going oh my fucking God I hate this.

#summerly talks