#got home and made 5 pizzas

[learn-and-accept]

I'm back in the place I grew up for the first time since moving 6 months ago and it is so fucking weird and I have a lot of feelings

[angelbby555]

Chatter box

Summary: Bradley's girlfriend is a yapper and he's a listener. Word count: 900

The only words Bradley knew ever said to his chatty girlfriend were:

“I’m listening.” 

“Let it out.”

“I’m all ears.”

Based on the way she would eagerly say his name, it was almost instinct for Bradley to say, “Talk to me, baby.” 

She just loved talking about anything and everything. She had something to say about every topic Bradley could think of. He never found his girlfriend's constant talking annoying, only endearing. Over time it just made him become a better listener. Bradley talked too, but not as much as his girlfriend.

He contributed when needed or if he had an opinion, other than that Bradley shut his mouth to listen to her. Bradley didn’t listen because he had to or loved her- he listened to her rant because he genuinely wanted to. Every time she started speaking Bradley's ears and eyes were on her like she was the only person in the room. 

Being a chatterbox did catch up on his girlfriend at times. Like during Bradley’s lunch break when he left base to go eat with his girlfriend. It took her an hour and forty-five minutes to finish her food because she talked so much. Bradley would always finish his meal before her, and he would have to remind her to eat her untouched food. 

“Baby eat.” Bradley cut her off mid-explanation of the song Springs by Fleetwood Mac with a laugh. He had 5 minutes left to get back to base and his girl had only managed to take one bite out of the two pizzas she had. 

“Okay.” She frowned while picking up her pizza off the paper plate. Hearing her sighed, Bradley knew she was feeling insecure about how much had been talking. He couldn’t stand to see her upset for a second. It would be the third time this week that Cyclone threatened to shove a clock up Bradley’s ass so he would get to work on time. Despite the embarrassing scolding he would receive from his superior in the presence of his squadron, it would be worth it since his girlfriend had enjoyed her lunch. 

“What happens after Fleetwood Mac reunites for The Dance?” Bradley watched the spark come back to his girlfriend's eyes since her topic of conversation hadn’t been forgotten. She eagerly set her pizza slice back down, gearing up to talk her ass off again. Eventually, Bradley got tired of reminding her to eat so he ended up feeding his girlfriend her pizza slice while she continued to talk. 

Bradley turned up at base thirty-five minutes late humming the song Silver Springs, knowing he was about to get chewed up so hard for being tardy yet again because he let his girlfriend keep talking.

While deployed the guys would tease Bradley because he had the thickest envelope from his girlfriend that had the density of a small paperback novel. The envelope was only made up of pages and pages of his girlfriend's handwriting. She wrote a lot, so Bradley was severely spoiled with entertainment from her. He wouldn’t even go hit the town with his friends, too busy rereading the 20 pages his girlfriend had written. 

If she rambled through every meal she ate, Bradley couldn’t even imagine how much yapping she was saving for him to hear these past two weeks. When Bradley was able to make a Face time call home, his girlfriend was so excited to hear from him because she missed him so much. Bradley appreciated the concern and her question on how he was doing, but he didn’t want to talk about it. He already had to survive it, he didn’t wanna retell it. All he wanted to hear was hear her sweet voice he’d been missing for 2 weeks. 

“Enough about me, I’m sick of me,” Bradley smirked at her, getting comfortable in the chair in the lounge room. “Baby you better give me an earful, I’ve been missing my chatterbox.” The screen glitched from the horrible wifi on base, so he heard her wonderful laugh before he saw her reaction. 

“Bradley, don't get me started.” She covered her smile with her mouth while shaking her head. 

“I know you're itching to talk motormouth.” Bradley couldn’t resist teasing his girlfriend. “Baby, you got 8 minutes, can you work with that?” It she certainly couldn't considering she could talk so much to the point she made it till the closing hour at restaurants. 

“I’ll try.” She giggled. 

When Bradley got home the only thing he wanted to do was sleep, eat, and have sex with his girlfriend. On the second day of being home, Bradley and his girlfriend went out to eat lunch and hit the beach. After showering and spending the afternoon at the beach, Bradley wanted to end the day fucking his girlfriend and eating dinner. 

But as Bradley was making out with her on the bed and slipping his hands under her shirt her mind seemed to be completely elsewhere. 

“I used to hate my high school chem teacher with a burning passion but when I saw that bald guy at the supermarket yesterday, I just felt pity because he could probably have a heart of gold but in that classroom, he was such an uptight little-”

“Shh honey.” Bradley laughed against her lips, realizing her mind was elsewhere.

“I’m sorry.” She sheepishly took her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“It’s okay baby. You can tell me about that bald guy after.” Bradley smiled against her mouth. 

Despite her chatter entertaining and distracting herself, Bradley still loved to hear her rant and talk for hours. He couldn’t imagine having a dull girlfriend who hummed and nodded at replies. Bradley preferred his girls chatty, who got upset when they weren’t cut off.

This took me too fucking long to write! Writers, Ladies it's the third top gun summer. Don't start disappearing on us :/

[snoopychris]

dbf!chris is okay with tying his soul with yours

warnings: period sex. this is your warning.

chris felt frantic while running around his house. his wrist swung back and forth while he consistently checked the time, groaning quietly to himself. he glances at owen, playing happily with some of his cars, smiling slightly as he shoves a bite of cereal in his mouth. the sitter was nearly 20 minutes late. his shift started in 30 minutes and he still had the commute to keep in mind. he was freaking out more than he ever had before. the toddler slowly stands up, tumbling over to his dad. chris smiles as he ruffles the kids hair, pressing a small kiss to his head. “what’s up, bud? hm? you hungry or something?” chris whispers, pulling his phone out of his pocket to solve the problem the only way he knew how.

the phone rang a few times before you answered, your voice sweet and full of cheer as you picked up. “hey chris what’s up? everything ok?” you ask, your smile evident through the screen. chris sighs for a moment before running a hand through his hair, hesitant to ask. “i need a sitter. i had one but she’s late and my shift starts soon and i can’t exactly take owen to a bar. i’ll pay you i promise i just… please.” your eyes widen slightly at the suddenness of the question, but it’s not like you’re doing anything anyway. “i’ll be there in 5.” you reply, climbing off your bed as you begin to walk towards chris’ house. it’s not far by any means, but it’s a tedious walk with all of the sticks and other terrains that separate you. your knocks are gentle on the door, quickly being met with chris’ blue eyes staring into your own. his stubble is longer than it usually is, making him look more his age than usual. 

“i owe you. i promise ill actually pay you eventually. i’m sorry i won’t be able to today.” chris words are fast. you can tell he’s in a rush by the way the house is a mess. it looks like he was scattering through all of his things to find what he was looking for. “it’s okay chris really i don’t need any-“ your words are cut off by a brisk kiss from chris as he walks out the door, car keys in hand as he waves goodbye to you and owen. “there’s pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry! i’ll see you later i love you!” he yells, climbing into the prius he’s had for ages. you chuckle as you shut the door gently, looking down at owen on the carpet. “your dad… is a mess sometimes.” you giggle, sitting down next to him on the carpet. “but he’s cool i guess.”

the day passes by faster than you had ever imagined it could’ve. it felt like just a few minutes had past when chris got home, but really it had been hours. he walks into the house to the smell of something more delicious than he could’ve ever made. the trail of the scent drags him to the kitchen where you’re making some sort of pasta and brownies. he smiles widely at the sight of you, watching his son as he eats his buttered noodles. “hey you two… what you up to?” he raises an eyebrow, kissing owen’s head as he lifts him up gently and sits the toddler on his knee. “you look good with that apron on. smells great in here too. y’got enough for me?” he chuckles, bouncing his knee gently. you nod as you smile, biting your lip as you turn to look at him. 

“vodka pasta and brownies for dessert.” the plate that gets placed in front of chris looks more delectable than anything he’s eaten in weeks, causing him to quickly grab a fork and place a noodle in his mouth. he borderline moans at the taste, gripping onto your wrist and pulling you in for another kiss. “this is incredible. you’re incredible. thank you.” he whispers, his voice full of nothing but genuine emotion as he speaks. you smile as you steal a bite of his pasta, sitting on the stool besides him. he laughs as you eat his food, his free hand sitting on your knee. “you goin home? or you gonna stay here tonight?” his chin moves to rest on owen’s head, batting his eyes at you like a puppy. you shrug for a moment as you grab the toddler from his lap, setting him on your hip.

“guess i’ll see. he’s fallin asleep on your lap… gonna put him to bed.” you whisper, running your fingers through the brown head of hair as a way to rock him to sleep. “i’ll be right back. save me some pasta.” chris smiles at your words as you walk away, holding his arms out for you when you finally come back. you settle in his lap and in his arms, kissing his cheek and neck gently. “you don’t have to pay me chris. i mean it. i’m okay.” you giggle, taking a bite from the plate once more. chris shrugs as he gently twists your hair between his fingers as if it’s the worlds most expensive silk. he wants to hold you just like this at every given moment of the day. everyday.

“you’re really pretty. would make a really good mama. when i left the house was a mess. all i had was pizza. came back and suddenly i can see my floor and there’s a god damn pasta on the stove. and you made it from scratch ‘cause i didn’t have any spaghetti noodles, only rigatoni.” your mouth drops slightly open at his words, gasping when he pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. your arms wrap around his neck as he continues to work his way down your neck with his lips. 

“lemme… lemme just put it in while we eat. won’t even move. please baby please.” he whines, nipping down on your neck. you moan quietly but shake your head regardless, pushing chris away gently. “you can’t. i’m on my period it’s gonna be gross and messy and it’s a soul tie.” chris groans at your words, toying with the hem of your sweatpants, which you had taken from his closet, biting his lip as he bats his eyes. 

“oh i don’t give a fuck. gods giving you a natural lubricant and you’re stopping me from using it?” you laugh in shock at his words, standing up from his lap as you make your way to his bedroom. “you’re a freak.” you whisper, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and tossing it onto the bed.  “you literally swallowed my cum last night and the night before that but blood is what’s getting in your way?” you widen your eyes at his words, jumping onto the bed as you reach out to him. “you’re such a romantic you know that?” chris laughs at your words, caging you on his mattress with his arms. he begins to kiss down your neck again, hand slipping between your thighs as he taps on your clit gently. it’s a little too slow for your liking. “chris.” you whine, pushing your sweats out of the way to give him more access. he groans at the sight, freeing himself from his own clothes and rubbing himself against your clothed heat. 

“you’re gonna be so good for me right baby? g’nna let me stuff you full of my babies? gonna let me make you a mama right?” he grunts, pushing your panties to the side and slipping in carefully as you squirm on the bed gently. your gummy walls engulf him instantly, a layer of warmth added with your current state. his head buries into your neck as he begins sliding in and out, the motion coming with lots more ease than usual. “fuck you feel amazing.” chris licks his lips as he begins speeding up his movements, his ego being boosted by your inability to speak and hardly make any noise. your eyes squeeze shut as you grip onto his hair, drool slipping from the side of your mouth. you can’t imagine the mess that you’re making as chris moves, the hormones coursing through you making the experience far more enjoyable. the self control that chris was trying his best to keep goes out the window when he thrusts against a specific spot, the moan leaving your mouth making a switch flip in chris’ head. 

his movements speed up more than you thought was possible, one of your legs being hoisted up to his shoulder for him to continuously rub against the spot that had made you so loud just moments ago. his free hand comes down to rub circles on your clit, the mess between your legs only spreading to his hands. “fuck. fuck you feel so fucking good. gonna need to do this more often. oh look at you doll, so fucked out on my cock. cmon baby… can feel you clenching around me.” chris speaks, his speed on your clit increasing. you nod rapidly as you let the wave of pleasure rush over you, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “attagirl.” chris groans as he releases inside of you, a shaky moan leaving the depths of his throat.  your pants are in tandem as you ride out your orgasms, chris being reluctant to pull out. 

he does eventually, pushing your panties back over your pussy. he chuckles slightly as he stands up, walking to the bathroom to wash his hands before turning towards you. “you want me to run you a bath?” he whispers, looking towards the bathtub as he steps over to his bed, swiftly picking you up and walking into the bathroom once more. “it’s up to you doll. i’d gladly shower with you again and again till you felt clean enough.” you smile at his words, head gesturing towards the bath. “only if you join me.” you whisper, climbing into the plastic tub as chris turns the water on. he slips in with you, hands wrapping around your frame gently. he kisses the top of your head, his thumbs moving to rub your thighs gently. “you make me feel complete y’know.” he whispers, the blush on his face becoming more apparent as you squeeze onto his bicep gently, letting out a small giggle. “yeah that’s the soul tie talking.”

a/n: i had no ideas and thought all my smut sounded the same and somehow THIS is where we ended up. my bad guys.

tags(reply/message to be added!): @oopsiedaisydeer @marrykisskilled @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @cykss @throatgoat4u @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @riasturns @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @jetaimevous @muwapsturniolo @sturnsrecord @13hoax @whore4mattsturniolo @ribbonlovergirl @tezzzzzzzzzzz @chrattho1 @submattenthusiast @mattscoquette @sosasturns

DIVIDERS BY @bernardsbendystraws !

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Hold Me Closer

summary: you give joaquin exactly what he needs after a rough mission.

pairing: subby!joaquin torres x f!reader

contents: 18+/MINORS DNI/SMUT, internal angst, food mention, dom/sub undertones, kissing, teasing, cockwarming, unprotected p in v

wc: 1,845

an: finallyyyyyy got to writing this subby!joaquin goodness, hope yall enjoy while i finish past 5 of vuelve!

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Joaquin usually texted or called you when he was almost home, even though he’d set up notifications to let you know when he and Sam made it back to the armory.

But today, there was nothing—just the notification—no call, no message.

Several minutes passed in silence before you caved and checked his location, confirming he was on his way.

That’s how you know it’s bad before he even opens the door. And the confirmation is all over his face the moment he steps inside, setting his bags down with a weighty exhale. He’s not his usual cheery self, even as his gaze catches yours and he forces a smile.

“Rough one, huh?” you ask gently.

He sighs. “Yeah. Just—really shitty.”

You rise from the couch and make your way to him, cupping his face in your hands. “Then let’s have a not-so-shitty night, okay?”

“Seguro, mi amor,” he agrees, though his shoulders still slouch.

You turn his head this way and that, examining him. “Mmm. ¿Tienes hambre?”

He makes a face, shaking his head. “Not really.”

You raise a brow. “But did you eat?”

A pause. “Not really,” he repeats. “Don’t light a fire under my ass, querida, I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m the sweetest girl you know.”

“That’s true, but you’re also the most stubborn. Which is why I know you’re about to make suggestions on what we should eat.”

“We could get Happy Camper—I’ve never seen you deny pizza.”

His hands find their place on your waist, squeezing gently as he mulls it over. “I could eat some pizza,” he murmurs, a smile pulling at his lips.

At the sight of that familiar light in his eyes, you can’t help but smile too. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his in an adoring kiss. With each word, your mouths brush, “I’ll order the pizza and you shower?”

He uses his grip on your hips to pull you closer, kissing you more deeply than before. He’s a little breathless, warmth creeping into his cheeks when he breaks away. “Sí, patrona.”

—

When Joaquin returns, you’re on the couch again with your book. You look up at him with a warm smile, but there’s something in your eyes that has him in a near shiver. Something hungry. Possessive.

“C’mere,” you murmur, patting the space next to you. He obliges, sitting beside you so your shoulders brush. Setting your book down, you rise onto your knees to straddle him.

He narrows his eyes at you playfully, though his hands slide up your thighs, kneading at the soft flesh. “What’re you up to?”

You ignore his line of questioning, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “Your hair’s longer than usual. Gonna cut it?”

“Maybe,” he sighs, his eyes fluttering shut when you start using the pads of your fingers to scratch at his scalp.

His breath deepens, his body slackening beneath your touch. Your gaze traces every detail of him—the sharp curve of his jaw, plush lips, delicate lashes. He’s stunning like this, and the quiet reverence between you feeds your growing hunger.

“I’m gonna touch you now, ok, cariño?” you ask softly, your fingers working against his scalp in slow, methodical circles.

“Mhmm,” he hums, sounding a little desperate. His body shifts, pressing more firmly into the couch, exposing the line of his throat to you.

The sight of him, open and willing, ignites something in you. You lean in, pressing your lips to the warm skin of his neck, trailing soft kisses downward. Your hands fall to his sweats, one rubbing against his hardening cock before slipping inside.

You’re met with nothing but solid warmth.

“You went commando on me, Torres?” you tease, your grip on him just as playful, fingers curling only slightly to emphasize your point. “That’s something a slut would do.”

“Oh fuck, baby,” he breathes, his eyes squeezing shut. His fingers twitch against your thighs, his muscles flexing as he fights the urge to thrust into your hand. His restraint is cracking, barely holding together, but he’s determined to be good for you.

“Are you a slut, Joaquin?”

“For you—por ti, cualquier día,” he mumbles eagerly, hoping that his willingness will bring him a reward.

His answer should bring nothing but arousal, but you feel yourself softening. How sweet it is that the man in a suit, the superhero, goes tender for you. You rest the bridge of your nose against his, asking him softly to look at you.

When he does, his brown eyes meet yours with a soft haziness, something vulnerable beneath the hunger.

“Te amo, mi amor. Lo sabes, ¿verdad?”

“Always.”

You lean in, taking control, your lips finding his with slow, deliberate pressure. His breath hitches, body tensing as you deepen the kiss, feeling his need swell against you. His hands tighten on your hips, a silent plea.

“Can I be close to you?”

You know what he means as soon as he asks. It isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Joaquin has this thing where he wants to crawl inside your skin and be there forever. Sometimes he’ll smoosh his cheek against yours and hope that somehow you’ll start to meld together. But when he’s asking like this, he wants to be inside you. Simply inside you, and nothing else.

“I don’t know if you asked correctly,” you murmur, your lips brushing his.

Joaquin’s known for his honesty, his playfulness, his confidence. But when you take control like this, you can draw out the part of him that’s shy. This is one of those times.

There’s a faint flush in his cheeks as he says, “Can I be inside you…please?”

“Since you asked so perfectly, amorcito. Hips up,” you command softly, and he moves in nanoseconds, allowing you to slide his sweats down to his knees.

Joaquin’s chest is heaving, his breaths rushed in anticipation. You don’t break eye contact as you pull your panties to the side, line him up with your entrance, and sink down onto him.

He gasps sharply, his fingers twitching against your skin.

“Perfect fit, hmm? Or should I try again?” you wonder playfully out loud.

“No—baby—I—” he sputters, but both of you know you weren’t truly asking.

You lift your hips until just the tip of him is inside you before lowering yourself again—slower this time. Neither of you can help it, moans mingling as your heads fall back in pleasure.

“Much better,” you murmur through a hitched breath, burying your face in his neck.

“M-much better,” he grits out, nuzzling into your temple. His hands rest at your hips, holding you, not guiding. He’s letting you take from him whatever you want.

And you do.

There’s a desire to tease him more, but you know what he needs from you. He wants you to pry control and decision-making from his hands and make him feel safe. He wants to be nearly brain-dead with just the thought, the smell, the feel of you. So you hold him close as minutes stretch on, whispering soft praises here and there, dusting any skin you can reach with kisses.

Eventually, your patience wears thin— he feels too good inside you, but it’s not enough. It’s like scratching an itch with dull nails, like soothing an ache that can’t be satisfied.

You start a lazy but steady rock against him, pressing the tip of him firmly against the most sensitive spot inside you. Joaquin’s breath quickens but he stays quiet and still, letting you take what you want from him. Just a few minutes of this— you fucking him like this— and you’ll fall over the edge, but this isn’t just about you.

“Think you can cum like this for me? Or does baby boy need some help?”

“Can I touch you, hermosa? It’ll help,” he asks, guiding your head an inch so that his gaze can meet yours. He’s completely under your spell, his eyes glazed over with restlessness. With need.

You break for him, ready to let him have whatever he needs.

“Sure, baby, touch me,” you agree easily, sitting back more firmly on your heels so that you have a better position to rock against him.

One of his hands finds the hem of your shirt, eagerly skimming up your skin to knead and caress your breast. The other takes an opposite path, forgoing the waistband of your panties to play with your clit.

Now your breath goes shallow, your hips bucking more quickly as his hands and cock serve you just the way you want them to. The sight of you alone— lips parted, half-naked, consuming him has him nearing his orgasm.

“Kiss me, mi vida. Please,” he begs, and you feel the way he tightens his muscles further beneath you, trying to resist the urge to fuck you back.

You close the gap between you, taking his lip between your teeth. “¿Ya no puedes más, cariño?”

“No,” he nearly whimpers, trying to pry his lip from your grip so that he can kiss you.

“Patience, I’ll kiss you, but when I’m close. Understand?”

Joaquin is tortured, you can see the resolve he’s been holding onto fading in his eyes but he nods, all of him growing still but his working hands.

He doesn’t know it, but you’re close too, barely holding on. You have less than a minute, you can feel it in the way you start to clench around his cock. You know that Joaquin can feel it too, but he continues to be a good boy for you, plucking at your nipples and clit.

You don’t give him a warning when your high washes over him, you just crush your mouth to his, groaning into the wetness as wave after wave of ecstasy floods your system.

It’s his undoing and he mirrors you, whimpering against your tongue as he fills you to the brim. It’s warm, comforting, and exactly what you both needed.

When you pull away, Joaquin is as out of it as ever, his head falling back against the cushions once more. You run your hands up and down his bare chest, planting soft, alternating kisses on his cheeks.

“¿Estás bien, amorcito?” you ask him gently, snuggling into his arms.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs dreamily, his fingers grazing over your skin absentmindedly as he starts to drift.

You smile softly at his words, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. But then—your thoughts go back to the pizza.

“Hey,” you murmur, shifting so you’re looking down at him. “Don’t forget about the pizza, cariño.”

His eyes flutter open, still hazy from the pleasure, but there’s a playful glint in his gaze. “How could I?” he whispers, pulling you closer into his arms. “But I’m good here…we can always eat later.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No way. We’ve got pizza, and I’m not letting you fall asleep on me just yet.”

Joaquin groans but grins up at you. “Alright, alright. You win, mi amor.”

“Damn right I do,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

nsfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun

[moonstruckme]

Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍

Yes! Thank you for reading <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words

“Honey, I’m home!” 

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—

“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 

You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 

He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 

“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 

James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 

“How would it be your fault?” 

“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 

You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 

“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 

“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 

“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 

You blink. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 

“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 

“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 

You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 

You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 

His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 

“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 

A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 

“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 

You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 

Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 

But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 

“I might,” you say. 

“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:11 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

You weren’t sure at exactly what point you’d become comfortable enough to shower at the Nu Chi Theta frat house. You know you’d put some hard work to make the bathroom that your boyfriend used look like it was used by humans and not raccoons. It took hours of scrubbing and letting chemicals sit and work their grime fighting power.

Yet, as you stood beneath the stream of hot water while you washed out your shampoo, you found yourself wondering exactly when this frat house became more like a frat home to you. There were the meals that you shared with the guys here, frat trips you were a part of, you helped clean after parties, and many other chores that you helped out with that made you feel like a part of the fraternity. Things that made you feel accepted and like you belonged even far beyond being fratboy!Jaehyun’s girlfriend.

You sighed, shaking your head as you washed the last of your shampoo out before squirting some of your conditioner into your palm. When had you even bought your usual toiletries for the frat house? Jaehyun must have bought them for you…

As you lathered the conditioner into your hair, you froze. The door, with the broken lock you’d asked Johnny to fix, creaked open. Then you heard, “yo, I’m popping in to take a leak. Stay in the shower, bro.”

You stuck your head out from behind the opaque shower curtain before the person could take any appendages out. It was Yuta. “I’ll be out in like 5 minutes if you want to use the bathroom downstairs,” you told him, making sure to keep your eyes on his face.

“Sweets! What’s up girl?” Yuta greets with a dazzling smile, “nah, it’s all good. You should uh, stick your head back in though unless you want to see my Johnson.”

Your face froze into one of shock as you slowly retreated to your privacy behind the curtain. When had this level of familiarity occurred?

Thankfully, over the stream of water you couldn’t hear him pee, but you did hear him laugh, “hey, just so you know. I was totally about to rag on whoever was using your shit without your permission.”

“Uh, thank you?” You replied while reaching for your body wash.

“Got you, girl. Alright, see you in a bit,” Yuta called out before you heard the door close again.

Just to be safe, you stuck your head out to make sure you were actually alone. “So weird…” you mutter to yourself while doing your last rinse.

As you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, the door opened once again to reveal Haechan. “Oh there you are! I’ve been looking for you!” Haechan greets.

“Dude, I’m standing here in a towel. Do you mind?” You ask with a blank look.

“I actually don’t mind!” Haechan exclaims, squeezing past you to sit on the closed toilet lid, “anyway, we’re getting pizza for dinner and I wanted to ask if you were still into those little garlic knots you’ve been ordering. I can place a small order just for you, if you want. Taeyong is letting me order tonight so if you want some wings just for you I can order that too.”

“Haechan! I’m naked right now!” You yell, hoping that it would be obvious that he should not be in the bathroom with you right now.

“Sweetheart, it’s better if we get this awkwardness out of the way now and not on the wedding night. I’m totally body positive. The female body is the most exquisite form in all of mankind,” Haechan tells you with his hands held up in defense.

You roll your eyes with a scoff as you march back to Jaehyun’s room. Unfortunately for you, Johnny and Jaehyun are in the middle of a conversation as you enter the room. Johnny looks at you and sends you a nod while Jaehyun sends you a smile. Did he not notice that you were standing here in just a towel?

“And so I think if we just focus on the alumni for the winter-“ Johnny explains to Jaehyun before being interrupted.

“Oh shit! My girlfriend is naked right now!” Jaehyun exclaims, rushing over to you and pushing you behind him. It seems then that Johnny realizes as his eyes instinctively dart over to you. “Don’t look!” Jaehyun yells as Johnny leaves his room, “we’ll talk about the alumni later.”

Jaehyun shuts the door quickly and turns to you with flushed cheeks. You cross your arms across your chest, “I miss the novelty of being the girl around here. You guys are too comfortable around me.”

“It was just Johnny that saw you like this… right?” Jaehyun asks slowly.

“No! Yuta literally came in to pee and stayed even when I told him it wasn’t me! Then Haechan came in and started talking about dinner! And you told me they were all going out to play soccer!”

Jaehyun runs a tired hand down his face, “I really need Johnny to fix that lock, dude. No one… like saw anything, right?”

“No,” you sigh moving over to your clean clothes to get dressed.

“Good,” Jaehyun replies, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, “this is for my eyes only, sweet girl.”

“Sure,” you snort, “until the next time I decide to shower here and Jungwoo walks in before I have my towel on.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not funny.”

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Cater Diamond - Trick King Jacket Voice Lines

Trick King Jacket Cater does not have a vignette.

We don't need none of those stiff formalities! Just feel the vibes and keep it pumpin'!

Summon: I gotta say, Cay-kun's imagination's pretty awesome～ I'm not talking about the dream itself, but this dorm uniform! Don'tcha think I got stellar sense?

Groovification: All these bad little fakers need to be put in their place. 'Sides, I gotta show off just what an upperclassman is capable of ♪

Home: Yahoo! Here comes Housewarden Cay-kun!

Swap Looks: Oh, should I take my hat off?

Home Transition 1: That super spicy pizza that Trey-kun made was so tasty... I should ask him to make me the same thing once we wake up from our dreams!

Home Transition 2: Sure, I've thought about using a skateboard to get around the dorm. 'Cause, my dorm's pretty big with all sorts of places to go, y'see.

Home Transition 3: We could take down trial testimony on our phones, huh... Nah, that'd never happen～ In real life, we use chalkboards. Don'tcha think that's kinda retro and cute of us?

Home Transition - Login: The Housewarden's commands are absolute. Riiight? Heheh, just kidding! But man, I could get used to giving orders like this.

Home Transition - Groovy: Did I seriously want to be Housewarden? No, no, definitely not! Because then I'd have to do all the annoying stuff like go to meetings and whatever.

Home Tap 1: How did I not realize that was a dream at all? You'd think I'd do a double-take at seeing Riddle-kun DJing... Or, more like a quintuple-take!

Home Tap 2: Hamburgers on Tuesdays and late-night lemonade were both allowed. I guess seeing those rules be lax made it a pretty good dream.

Home Tap 3: There's times I feel like the Queen of Hearts' laws are a paaain to deal with, but honestly, it's a lot better now than it was when I first came here. Seriously!

Home Tap 4: I can't believe all my cute little underclassmen came to my dream to save me... I'm moved to tears at how you all are maturing!

Home Tap 5: All these medals on my chest look pretty cool, huh? Feels like it's saying only the Queen of Hearts and the Card Soldiers stay winning, don't it?

Home Tap - Groovy: Hey, hey, take a pic of me wearing this outfit. I'll make sure to pick a perfect pose for it. Make sure it comes out killer ☆

Duo: [CATER]: Ruggie-kun, let's end this guy! [RUGGIE]: Let's do it, Cater-san.

Requested by @thelonepearl and @farfalla049.

[storiesofsvu]

Secrets Among Siblings

Olivia Benson x fem!reader Warnings: language, fluff, smut, teasing, sexting, secret dating, caught in the act. 5 times Elliot wished he knew who his sister was dating + 1 time he really wished he didn't know. 6.1k. I'm so not sorry? Lol. This was requested AGES ago and once I finally figured out *how* to do it, it all came flying out in one afternoon. Hope you enjoy! <3

Living with your brother had its downsides, you were well aware of that. Especially when your brother happened to be the older one, the very much overprotective one who wasn’t afraid to use his authority as a member of NYPD to keep you safe. He meant well, but it was more than a little annoying now that you were a fully grown adult with a big girl job you’d worked hard to achieve and move up the ranks to the point where you could afford your own, nice apartment in Manhattan. You would have understood it if you were freshly twenty one, or fighting your way through college, but you were the same age he was when he got married, then again, that’s how you had ended up in this living situation in the first place. A string of disagreements, a trial separation, Elliot needing a place to stay and your empty guest room being halfway between his precinct and family home. 

There were some great benefits, Elliot was used to routine, no snoozing the alarm in the morning meant the coffee was brewed and there was breakfast on the table by the time you got up, or you had a morning workout partner for once. You didn’t have to plan every single bite of food that you were going to consume; groceries would just appear in the fridge, you’d swap off the cooking, dishes and cleaning. It was nice to have someone else around to help share the load for once, you’d nearly forgotten what that was like. You enjoyed your sibling dinners, especially on Friday evenings, getting to wind down from the week, hearing the wild stories of his hours spent with NYPD while you could vent your heart out about your terribly annoying coworkers. 

Elliot had come to rely on them, a nice distraction from the work week and any lingering family tension, it was his debrief of the week before shifting into Dad mode over the weekend that he spent with the kids. Family time was important to him; it always had been which is why he was a little bit bummed when the text came into his phone halfway through a Friday afternoon.

‘Gonna miss dinner tonight, sorry. How about I treat you and the kids to pizza and a movie Sunday?’

He countered that while you may have had other obligations, you hadn’t mentioned what they were, they were likely work, maybe a friend’s birthday, and most importantly you’d offered up extra family time to make up for it. Getting to spend time with your nephew and nieces was just as good. 

Between the camouflaged cover ups and his extra long hours at the precinct, he didn’t notice how the hours the apartment was empty seemed to be increasing. You had mentioned a big project at work, a busy time of year for tutoring on your side gig, it made total sense when he was the second to wake up in the morning or the first one home. Apparently the days of business lunches were over, he assumed fancier business dinners were the norm now, catching glimpses of you dressed up leaving the apartment in the early evening or slipping back in after the lights were all out. 

The first time he thought anything of it was when he got up to an empty apartment on a Saturday morning, early enough the sun was just starting to stream through the curtains. The sounds of birds chirping and garbage trucks in the alley accompanied his morning shower and mental preparation for the day. It was only on his way out to the kitchen that he noticed your bedroom door wide open, bed still made from yesterday, half empty coffee mug on your makeup table where you regularly drank it while getting ready. A few pieces of make up were still scattered across the table, your curling iron out yet unplugged, a couple pairs of high heels beside it as if you were trying to decide what matched your outfit. It wasn’t like he was snooping; he couldn’t help but scope out the scene a little bit, eyes darting around your room to try and get any clue if you had been home between Friday morning and now.

He shrugged it off; you must’ve just taken off already for brunch or something and not bothered to tidy up, it was the weekend after all. His stomach grumbled and he went on his way, meandering into the kitchen to start the coffee pot. After a summary of what was in the fridge, he pulled out eggs, cheese, turkey sausage and the loaf of bread from the counter. Sausage and eggs were sizzling away in the frying pan when his ears picked up another sound, his head swiveling around until he realized it was the deadbolt slowly creaking its way open from the front door. 

You crept around the door, bracing two gentle hands against it as you slowly and quietly shut it behind you, wincing when the deadbolt whined as you locked it. You were wearing a cute dress, heels dangling from your fingers, hair swept up into a topknot, your work bag and a small purse in the crook of your elbow. A gasp escaped your lips and you jumped, your hand flying to your chest when you turned around to find your brother watching you.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Hey, language.” He scolded and you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t realize you’d be up so early.” You ducked your gaze, gently placing the heels down on the shoe rack before slipping out of your coat.

“Are you…” his brow furrowed, a teasing grin on his face, “sneaking in?”

“No.” You scoffed, your nose crinkling. “I thought you were still asleep, I was trying to be nice and not wake you up.”

“You sure about that?” He asked, eyes glancing over your appearance again.

“Oh what’re doing? Trying to be Mom? I had a late meeting, met a friend for dinner right after. We hadn’t seen each other in a while; I ended up crashing there.”

“I didn’t realize people in their thirties ‘crashed’ at their friends.” He teased and you shot him a glare.

“They do when said friends have guest rooms, which I no longer do, thanks to someone.” You moved through the apartment, coming close enough to punch his shoulder, “otherwise I would have hosted.”

“Sorry to cramp your style. You must’ve been out late to be too tired to come home.”

“We’d been drinking.” You shrugged a shoulder, “didn’t think my big brother would be too happy to find out I’d been wandering the streets of Manhattan alone at three in the morning. Or worse, getting behind the wheel. I’d like to be spared from either of those lectures, thank you.”

“Fine, fine.” He held up the spatula in his hand in surrender, “you can text me next time you know? I’ll always come pick you up.”

“Thanks, but I had my car. No point in leaving it if I’d have to come back and get it in the morning, just makes more work.”

“Work smarter not harder.”

“Exactly.” You mock saluted him as you backed down the hallway, “enough coffee for me?”

“Yeah, food should be ready soon too.”

“Keep a plate for me? I’m gonna shower really quick.”

“Sure.” Elliot turned back to the stove and as soon as his eyes were off you, you darted into your room, attempting not to slam the door behind you.

Palms flat against the wood you lightly banged your forehead against it chastising yourself as your heart raced a mile a minute, pounding against your chest. You thought you had better time management that morning, an alarm set for an ungodly hour to actually tear yourself away from Olivia and have time to get home before Elliot was awake. Unfortunately, it appeared Olivia was both too distracting and convincing to get away from in a timely manner. You’d have to come up with a better excuse next time or face the fact that your brother would find out you were the one secretly dating his partner. 

**

You slipped into the apartment midday on a Sunday, a laugh echoing from your lips,

“I know. I had fun too.”

“You should have come back to my place.” Olivia replied, her voice dropping and you couldn’t help but feel your body already tingling.

“I can’t do Sundays, family dinner nights, remember?”

“Oh, I know.” She chuckled, “I was invited this time.”

“What did you RSVP?” You asked, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“That I had way too much laundry to get done before the work week.” She replied, “I figured it would be a little too difficult to keep my hands off you.”

“Oh, did you now?” The grin spread across your lips as you moved through the apartment, placing your bag and keys down on the breakfast bar, leaning against it. “And what exactly, prey tell would those hands be doing?”

“Well for starters I’d have to sneak you away to the bathroom, can’t risk anyone seeing or walking in.”

“Mhmm…” you started twirling a piece of hair around your finger. 

“Start out by holding your waist, grabbing your ass while I kiss you, gently pinning you to the door. Then things might get a little sneaky, start exploring under your dress, trying to see if you were a good girl who wore panties or not.”

“Christ Liv.” You stuttered out a laugh, your cheeks heating as she chuckled through the phone.

“Well, which would it be sweet girl?”

“I always want to be good for you.” You cooed into your phone, “I know how much you like that. But what if I wanted to play for once? Want to pretend I’m your naughty girl instead? Make you think I’ve got panties on but the surprise you’d find is that they’re crotchless and your fingers are—” your head shot up at the sound of the deadbolt creaking open and your entire body jolted upright, “yeah, thanks again for calling me back. I really wanted a chance to read over the preliminary before Monday.”

Olivia let out a huff of a laugh on the other end of the line, “I take it your house is no longer empty.”

“Correct.” You replied, “I’ll see you soon. Thanks.”

“Bye my sweet girl. Don’t forget what I was saying.”

“Definitely won’t.”

You hung up the phone, tossing it deep inside your purse, praying your cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt as Elliot approached the counter.

“We gotta get some WD-40 on that thing.” He gestured toward the door, “who you talking to?”

“Crystal. From work.” You replied, instantly turning to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water.

“You’ve been on the phone a lot this weekend.”

“I’ve got a lot going on.” You shrugged as he eyed you for a minute.

“Okay… don’t let work stress you out, you need to actually enjoy your weekends.”

“Says you.” You shot back, grabbing your purse off the island before disappearing down the hallway.

*

Sitting on the kitchen counter you were tucked in the corner by the window, coffee mug beside you while you were distracted on your phone.

‘Thank you again, you really didn’t have to.’

‘Sweetheart please, you couldn’t stop staring at that necklace. Even from across the store you kept going back to it, what was I supposed to do, not buy it for you?’

‘It’s not even a special occasion.’

‘Everyday with you is a special occasion.’

It was hard to bite back the smile on your cheeks at that, so distracted with your girlfriend you didn’t even hear your brother come into the kitchen. 

Elliot took one look at you, the dopey smile on your face, the way your feet were swinging back and forth, they were very telltale signs.

“Good news this morning?” He prompted, picking up the coffee pot.

“What?” You were suddenly yanked out of your trance, your entire body tensing as you looked up at him with wide eyes. In one brisk movement you had locked your phone, tossing it to the counter, replacing it with your mug of now chilled coffee.

“Looked like you were in good spirits is all.”

“Got good news about work.” You fibbed.

“About time.” He replied, eyeing you over the rim of his coffee.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been working insane hours the last couple of months.” He pointed out, confusion washing over his face at the way your brow furrowed, “at least I assumed that’s why I’ve barely seen you.”

“Yeah.” You ran a hand through your hair, “crazy amount of OT.” Your phone buzzed on the counter and this time it actually was a work-related text, “speaking of. Gotta run.” Scooping up the device you hopped off the counter, squeezing his shoulder as you moved past him, “I was thinking chicken stir fry for dinner, thoughts?”

“Sounds good.” Elliot watched as you grabbed your bag and scurried out of the apartment. He was a detective, he knew whatever you had been texting about had nothing to do with work.

*

After a long day of work, a few glasses of wine in as you winded down for bed you were sprawled across the couch, tv playing in the background. Though your attention was on your phone, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you read the last message Liv had sent.

‘God, I really wish you were here tonight. I could use your help with something.’

‘Oh?’

‘Bored.’     ‘It’s annoying to have to think of ways to occupy myself.’     

You grinned at her innuendos, your breath catching in your throat when the next message was an array of pictures. The first one her tits pushed up in a deep blue, lacy bra and your mouth practically watered. The second only her arm was covering her chest and the third made your skin prickle with heat. One of her hands sliding down her bare torso, sneaking under the waistband of matching blue lace panties.

‘Thoughts?’

‘I can definitely help with that.’

‘Yeah? Tell me sweet girl, how should I kill some time?’

‘Pretend I’m there, sitting in your lap playing with your tits while your fingers are buried inside me.’

‘You’d like that wouldn’t you? All cute and riled up, grinding down onto my hand. Your fingers sneaking between my legs.’

‘Baby I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands away from you. I want to feel every inch of you, all wet and warm for me.’

An audible gasp left your lips the next time your phone buzzed it was a video, her fingers moving underneath the lace, soft moans and whimpers coming from her lips.

‘Like that sweet girl?’

‘Just like that.’  ‘Fuck, Liv.’  ‘Keep going for me. You know I wouldn’t stop until I’ve made you come. And if I was actually there, I would make you come over and over again.’

‘You really know how to earn a good reward.’ A little smirking emoji accompanied that text.

‘It wouldn’t just be my hands either. You know I adore having my mouth on you, tasting your pussy on my tongue, the noises you always make are so fucking hot.’

‘Can I sit on your face?’

Your entire body tensed, your pussy fluttering and you nearly dropped your phone. ‘Abso-fucking-lutely.’

‘Good girl.’    ‘I picked something up today, something new and just for you, wanna see?’

‘Of course.’

You let out an audible groan when the next picture came in. Olivia was wearing a strap on, her pussy puffy and slick under it, with a new, large purple dildo attached.

‘Wow.’

‘You like it?’

‘I love it.’

‘Shame you’re not here. I’ll just have to wait ‘til the weekend to fuck you with it.’

‘Now you’re just being mean.’

‘Only a tease baby and you know I always follow through on my promises.’

‘So Friday or Saturday?’

‘Lol. Someone’s eager. I’m working late Friday, but off the rest of the weekend.’

‘Perfect. I cannot fucking wait.’

‘Me neither. But not just for the sex, I do honestly really miss you.’

Your heart warmed at her words, a soft smile breaking onto your cheeks as your thought process moved away from the naughty side. Olivia was always so sweet, she made sure you knew how much she cared about you, how much she wanted to be around you all the time, even if things like work were hoarding all her time. You were special to her, and she wanted to make sure you never forgot that. 

‘It really does feel like the days have been dragging recently.’

‘Unless I’m with you then the hours fly by.’

‘You’re turning into a sap, you know that?’

“Who’re you talking to?” Elliot’s voice suddenly came from behind you, and you jumped, bolting upright as you locked your phone. You were so incredibly thankful that all the pictures and sexts had been far enough up they weren’t on the screen anymore.

“No one.”

“Yeah right.” He chuckled, snagging the tv remote to change the channel to something he liked as he dropped down onto the couch beside you. “You’re not hiding it well anymore kid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“So, spill, who’s the lucky guy?” He nudged at you with his shoulder and you grumbled.

“I’m not saying a word.”

“C’mon, just give me a name. I need to run him through the system.”

“El, stop it. No.” 

“I’m not gonna let you date someone with a record! You deserve better than that.”

“Thank you, but I can guarantee you they do not have a single flag on their file. Hell, their file doesn’t even exist!”

“Perfect! So, you can give me a name.”

You rolled your eyes again and just as you opened your mouth to redirect him, your phone buzzed on the couch with an incoming message. Elliot managed to grab it before you could, and you let out a frustrated groan. At the very least, you’d saved Olivia’s contact as only an ‘L’ with a kissy faced emoji beside it.

“Knew it was a guy.” He grinned at you, finally giving the device back when you started physically fighting to get it back. “L… hmm… Liam? Landon? Lucas?” He tapped his chin as he hummed, “you’ve gotta tell me when I get it. What about…. Leonard!”

“Fuck off Elliot.” 

With your phone safely in hand, you shoved off the couch, retreating to your bedroom where you could continue to text your girlfriend in peace.

**

Olivia absolutely despised the precinct coffee. It was a well-known fact that it was crappy drip coffee provided to them, meaning it was probably the cheapest brand on the shelf. She’d been told that she would simply get used to it over time, but that time was definitely not anytime this decade. She wasn’t aware just how much she actually complained about it until she looked up from her desk to see your smiling face walking into the bull pen.

You dropped a bag of treats off with the desk sergeant, waving hello to the other few detectives that you knew before approaching her desk, leaning against it with your hip as you placed the tray in your hand down.

“Hey.” You greeted with a smile, squeezing at her hand. While some of the squad did know you were together, you still opted for professionalism, especially if it wasn’t your workplace.

“What are you doing here?”

“Brought you the good stuff.” You gestured to the tray, plucking one out to hand to her, “figured you could use a little pick me up.”

“What were you planning on doing if your brother was here?” She asked quietly, a small grin on her face at the thought that you were still more than willing to show up to surprise her.

“I’d come up with something.” You shrugged, “besides isn’t he in court today? He had the fancy tie on when he left for work.”

Olivia laughed, Fin snorted from beside you, saying a quick hi before he dug through the bag of goodies and you handed him a paper mug.

“You should stop by more often. Whenever you want.” He insisted, groaning over a sip of luxurious in comparison coffee, “you’re the better Stabler anyways.”

“Aww… flattery will get you everywhere Detective Tutuola.”

“What’s this?” A voice rang out from behind you and you tensed, the feeling becoming all too familiar, “surprise visit, one of those better be for me.”

You swiped the coffee from Fin’s hand as you turned around, bright smile on your face, “was just waiting for you! I didn’t realize you were in court today and I thought you could use a pick me up.”

“Thanks.” Elliot took the coffee from it, taking a swig and as he swallowed his eyes narrowed in Liv’s direction. You glanced from your brother to where his gaze landed, gulping nervously. “Why does hers have a heart on it?”

Liv glanced to the side of the cup, smiling at the hand drawn heart in a different colour than your name scrawled across the cup and shrugged, “barista must’ve thought she was cute.”

“Barista…” he turned back to you, small grin on his lips, “is that the mystery? Are you dating a barista?”

You glanced at your watch, “shit, would you look at that, my lunch break’s over. Gotta run, I’ll see you at home.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Elliot beamed as you glanced back to your girlfriend with apologetic eyes before scurrying from the bull pen. “Oh, come on! That’s how you’ve been affording the expensive beans isn’t it?” He was practically chasing you out of the room as you made a beeline for the elevator doors, trying to get in before they slid shut, unfortunately, Elliot was just as fast as you.

Back at her desk, Liv and Fin watched the whole thing while she shook her head at Elliot’s antics. Fin let out a sad sigh, his eyes lingering on where the other man had disappeared into the elevator.

“I was drinkin’ that…”

Olivia laughed, handing over her coffee.

**

“Fuck baby… don’t stop.” You groaned, your fingers twisting Liv’s hair tighter around them as her tongue swept through your pussy. 

She simply moaned against you in return; there was no way in hell she was letting up until you were coming undone under her. Your hips rocked up off the bed when you gasped and her mouth suctioned around your clit, tongue flicking it in various patterns. One of her hands snuck between your legs, two fingers sinking into your heat and you bit back a louder moan. 

“Shit…” you moaned, your body shivering, “feels, s-so good.”

Her fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot just right and your thighs trembled around her.

“C’mon baby.” She murmured, lips brushing against your cunt, “let go for me. I wanna see how many times I can make you come tonight.”

You nodded furiously as her fingers picked up the pace and her mouth returned to your swollen nub, it only took a few more strokes before she brought you to your peak, your body arching up off the bed. With a small chuckle and a wicked grin Liv kissed her way up your body, still palming between your legs.

“A promise is a promise; I’m far from done with you.”

“Good.” You grinned, tugging her down to you for a kiss, your tongue surging into her mouth, “but my turn first.”

In one swift movement you wrapped your leg around her waist and flipped her onto her back, your lips mapping out every inch of her skin while your hand sunk between her legs.

~

At the other end of the apartment, the door opened, swinging shut behind Elliot as he turned to lock it. The first thing he registered was a thunk echoing from down the hallway. His natural instinct was to go check it out, make sure you were okay and hadn’t broken or spilt anything. Then he noticed the second pair of shoes sitting beside yours that definitely weren’t your style, there was a plate of half-eaten cheesecake on the coffee table and two empty glasses of wine alongside it. The next sound he heard was your giggle, followed by a swear that morphed into a moan and he made the correct choice to not even go look down the hallway.

‘Good for her.’ He thought, picking up a pair of headphones to drown out whatever other noises might end up coming from your bedroom. Maybe now he’d be able to solve the mystery of the barista, name starting with an L.

~

“Christ, you are relentless.” Olivia chuckled breathlessly, collapsing into the pillows of your bed. Her entire body felt like jelly, exhausted with pleasure and satisfied with how many orgasms she’d managed to pull from you.

“You started it.” You grumbled softly, dropping onto her chest as her arm wrapped around you and she left a kiss on the top of your head.

“Maybe we should place bets more often.”

“I like your style detective.” You smirked, shifting up to kiss her, “you’ve left me absolutely parched, you want a water?”

“Please.” Smiling, she watched you slip from the covers, eyes raking over your naked body before you covered it with a robe and slipped out the bedroom door. 

Out of habit you closed it behind you and boy were you glad you did when you rounded the bend into the kitchen to spot Elliot over the breakfast bar on the couch. A heat of embarrassment shot up the back of your neck and into your cheeks, heart pounding again but for a totally different reason as you sidestepped to the cupboard. He nearly jumped at the sudden movement when you swung the cupboard open, yanking off the headphones.

“Hey.” You grimaced, quickly turning your back to him as you filled up the glasses, “sorry.”

“You’re an adult.” He replied with a shrug, “do I get an introduction?”

“Now?” You snorted, “yeah right.”

Picking up the glasses you raced back down the hallway before he could interrogate you any further, whipping the door shut behind you. Liv took one look at your face as you put down the water glasses and her eyes widened,

“Was that El?”

“Yup.” You nodded, your voice a hoarse whisper, hissing through the air. “I thought he was working tonight! He said he was gonna sleep at the precinct!”

“Shit.” She muttered, dropping back onto the bed and running a hand over her face. “I can’t stay tonight…”

“If you want to walk right past him to the door, be my guest!”

“Are you suggesting I go down the fire escape?!”

“No!” You let out an exasperated sigh, dropping down onto the edge of the bed, “fuck…”

“He really has no idea?” She asked, sitting up as she reached for your hand, stopping you from picking at your nails.

“No. He’s still as clueless as the day I dropped you off coffee.”

“Still thinks it’s a barista?”

“Yeah.” A puff of air left your lips as you looked up at her, “Liv I’m so sorry. I never should have convinced you into this.”

“It’s okay, we never get to spend time at your place.”

“No, I meant this whole fucking mess.”

She stalled, eyes darting around your face, “sweetheart… I asked you out. I was the one doing the pursuing, and this isn’t a mess.” Her hand slid up your arm, squeezing at your shoulder, “besides, what was I supposed to do? Let Elliot stop me from dating you? Fat chance. You outrank him any day.”

You cast her a small smile and she tapped her finger on the tip of your nose. “You sound like Fin.” 

She laughed, quickly moving her hand to cover her mouth and your smile quickly reached your eyes. With a quick glance at the clock you did the mental math, 

“It’s late. He always showers before bed; we can sneak you out of here then.”

“God, I feel like I’m sixteen again.” She laughed softly as you raised a brow at her, “it’s exhilarating.”

You swatted her arm, “okay, but next time we’re at your place.”

“Agreed.” She leant in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

**

You and Olivia were twisted in her bedsheets in the late Sunday afternoon, the sun lowering in the horizon casting her bedroom in golden hue. You’d been at it most of the day, movies playing in the background while you went round for round between naps entangled in each other’s arms. It was safe to say that you’d both worked up quite the appetite, ordering in for what would be acting as dinner. Her lips brushed against yours again as they curved up into a grin, lazily kissing you as there was nowhere else either of you would rather be. Her phone vibrated on the nightstand and she blindly reached for it, hitting the button to buzz the driver upstairs. 

You let out a loud groan, attempting to roll away from her but her arm tightened around your center.

“Nope.”

“Liv,” you laughed tickling at her arm, “I need to pay the man, and I can’t answer the door naked.”

“Fine.” 

Reluctantly she let you slip from between the sheets, so you could tug on your panties and an oversized shirt she usually wore to bed. You dug through your purse for your wallet and padded through her apartment, getting to the door right as it was knocked on. Quickly unlatching the chain, you swung it open, only problem was the guy standing in front of you didn’t have any pizza in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” You asked your brother, taking a wary step back from the doorway.

“I’m here to see Liv.” He replied, not even recognizing the state of undress you were in, “what’re you doing here?”

“Waiting for my pizza.”

“Babe?” Liv called from the bedroom, “what’s the hold up? You need more cash?” She stepped into the living room tightening her robe with one hand while the other clutched her wallet, “I—” She froze at the sight of Elliot in her doorway. The realization finally fully crashed over you and your body tensed, glancing between the two of them, “El. Shit, hey.”

“You didn’t pick up your phone.” He said plainly, looking right past you.

“Yeah… I was a little busy.”

He glanced around the living room, as if he’d lost all of his years of experience as a detective and had no possible way of putting things together right now. 

“Movie night?” He asked, his voice creeping up in an unsure way.

You couldn’t help it, bursting out into laughter, “yeah, okay. You are not that dumb.” You turned to your girlfriend, a hand wrapping around her waist as you pulled her to you and planted a kiss on her lips, lingering longer than you normally would in a PDA situation, “let me know when the food’s here?”

“Yeah.” She murmured, flustered with heated cheeks.

Elliot shook his head as if coming back to life, “wait a minute. What the hell!?” He called after you, stepping into the apartment as you attempted to disappear into the bedroom, “hey! You get back here!”

“Can I at least put on some fucking pants?” You yelled back, yanking some shorts up your legs before returning back to the living room.

“What is going on here?” He asked, looking between the two of you, “I thought you were dating that barista.”

Olivia laughed and you dropped your face into your palm, muttering to yourself, “oh my god. There is no barista! There never was a barista.”

“What about the heart on the coffee cup?” He asked.

“I drew that… for Liv.” You gestured towards her and she smiled sheepishly.

“You had a guy in your room a week ago!”

It was your turn to blush as Olivia let out a small chuckle, “wasn’t a guy…”

Elliot’s eyes widened for a second as it finally dawned on him, “how long has this been going on?”

You and Liv glanced at each other before you spoke, “like… six months.”

“Six… six months?” He dropped down onto the couch behind him, “so all those late nights? You sneaking back in?”

“I was… with her.” You shrugged.

Elliot turned to Olivia, “every time you opted out of drinks? Took off early…”

“I was defiling your little sister, correct.” She smirked; you barked out a laugh and Elliot pulled a face.

“Listen, El…” you started, “could you spare us the lecture, at least until Monday?”

“Lecture?” He looked up at you and you raised your hands.

“The lecture you give me anytime I date someone, the ‘I’m a cop I’ll hunt you down’ threats you give my partners….”

“I mean they are kinda redundant now. I’ve got my own gun.” Liv commented, now completely free of any embarrassment she was totally ready to tease the hell out of her partner.

“I think I’m just… shocked.” He stated, slowly piecing together his words, “I spend every single day with the two of you, how the hell did I not pick up on it?”

“We were careful.” You suggested, “I didn’t want you getting pissed, doing something stupid that made us fight and you be a total ass to Liv at work.”

“Something stupid?”

“Like forbid us from seeing each other?” Liv offered.

“I, eugh, no.” He shook his head, “even if I tried…”

“Wouldn’t be possible.” The two of you finished in tandem.

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing both hands over his face before he leant back into the couch, taking a second to think things over. He looked to you first,

“Are you happy?”

“Inescapably.” You couldn’t help the giant smile that took over your face.

He nodded, glancing over to Liv, “and you’re treating her right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, she deserves the world.” She replied, unable to tear her eyes away from you as she spoke with a dreamy look in her eyes.

Elliot hummed, sitting forward, “okay, fine.” He shrugged, “it’s not like I have any say anyways.”

“Okay, great.” You lunged forward, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him up to standing, “now would you get out of here so we can enjoy the rest of our weekend?”

He was almost considering protesting but there was another knock on the door and he was well aware it was the takeout you’d been expecting. With a final sigh he glanced between the two of you,

“Fine. But you keep it down at our place, I don’t want to hear anything to see any gross PDA.”

“That will literally never happen again as long as you keep the calendar updated with your actual schedule!” You pointed out.

“And you’re coming to family dinner next week.” He pointed to Olivia, “no more excuses, no more hiding.” His eyes landed back on you as you slowly backed him toward the door, “and no more secrets, okay? There shouldn’t be any reason you have to lie to me.”

“Okay.” You nodded, pulling open the door and he stalled one more time in front of the very confused delivery guy.

“And one more thing.”

“Elliot!” Olivia groaned with an eye roll, stepping forward to usher him out of the apartment.

“You two take this,” he handed over the boxes, “I’m paying, an apology for barging in on your night.”

He swung the door shut before either of you had any time to protest, finally leaving you in peace. Liv flicked the lock to make sure he wouldn’t have any last-minute interjections and took your hand.

“Well… that’s that.”

“Yeah.” You lifted your head, smiling brightly at her.

“Could’ve been worse.”

“Definitely.” You laughed, “he could’ve come home extra early last week and caught us on the couch.”

“Remind me to never take my clothes off anywhere but your bedroom ever again.”

“What about the shower?” You raised a brow and she grinned at you.

“Is that a question or a request?”

“I’m a sucker for hacks on how to save on my water bill.”

“Suggestion heard and granted.” Liv wrapped her arm around your waist, the takeout left forgotten on the coffee table as her lips captured yours in a kiss, a low growl coming from her throat as she started backing you down the hallway.

It didn’t matter what Elliot thought, it didn’t matter what anyone thought. As long as the two of you were happy and having a good time, everything was wonderful. And when you finally collapsed into her bed that night, bodies aching in the best way possible as you tangled your limbs together, soft ‘I love you-s’ whispered in the dark, you knew there was no place more meant for you to be.

____________

@red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl @lesbianspacecowboy @wannabe-fic-reader @lawandorderimagines @venablemayfairgoode @mysticfalls01 @beccabarba @littlegaybabe @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @enduringalexblake @wosoimagines @solemnnova @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @wandas-wife @lawandorderuswnt @wandasbrat @hbkpop @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @sia2raw @ladysc @narvaldetierra @dxtery @poisonedcrowns @momlifebehard @holycrapraewth @alexxavicry @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @temp0rary-bliss @gamma-rae-bursts @oliviasgayvibe @cabotnovak24 @schemmentisimpasours

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

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

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal 

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

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

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden. 

"No way," complained Nia. 

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

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

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

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

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

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@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

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@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[fandom]

Top 23 of 2023

Have you been aching to get your hot little hands on 52 weeks of data around original posts, likes, reblogs, and searches, all weighted and ranked and tied up into categories with a nice little bow on top? Well, today’s your day! It should come as no surprise that Artists on Tumblr reign supreme: from stunning traditional art, jaw-dropping digital art, fanart, sculptures, textile art—you name it, basically—this year’s list shows that Tumblr truly is the home for art and artists. Thank you, Artists on Tumblr, for enriching our dashboards day after day. 

Rounding out the top three, we have two iconic shows: Good Omens is live-action, and The Owl House is animated, but both have a heck of a love story at their core. The second season of Good Omens blessed us with not one but two ineffably exquisite ships, while the final season of The Owl House broke and then healed fans’ hearts in equal measure. Thanks, @danaterrace! Actually, come to think of it, the Good Omens finale kinda did the same in reverse. Thanks to you, too, @neil-gaiman! We can’t wait for season 3. 

Speaking of heartbreak and healing, Our Flag Means Death’s second season offered both in droves. The entire cast gave stellar performances, and fans couldn’t have been happier to see the kinds of representation the show displayed. Last year’s #1 topic, Stranger Things, may have dropped a bit, but trust us, you wouldn’t know it from the amount of meta, fanart, and fics in the tag. And did you hear about the live-action adaptations of both The Last of Us and One Piece? They were a preeeetty big deal this year, too. Check ‘em out if you haven’t yet (lol, of course you have). And we’d be remiss not to mention the hugely dedicated fans, fanartists, and fic writers devoting their time to all things Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Y’all deserve a little pizza, as a treat.

2023 was also a year for blockbuster movies, which of course hasn’t escaped anybody’s notice here on Tumblr. Barbie smashed box offices worldwide and left us reeling with every re-watch. How can one describe Greta Gerwig’s pink-filled opus? It certainly is one of the movies of all time. Meanwhile, with its incredible animation and soundtrack, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse introduced us to a whole new multiverse of Spider-People, opening the portal to a veritable flood of incredible OCs. And then, of course, we got a fresh perspective on an old classic when cinephiles introduced Martin Scorscese’s cinematic masterpiece, Goncharov (1973), to a new generation of film aficionados who resoundingly agree that it is, in fact, the greatest mafia movie ever made. We’re so glad this underrated film finally got the acclaim it has long deserved.

In the realms of gaming and tech, the long-anticipated Baldur’s Gate 3 has basically become everyone’s new favorite D&D/dating sim combination. Of course, the Pokémon franchise, games, shows, and Hatsune Miku collabs remain perennial favorites. Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter, sorry, we mean of course X, made waves across the internet. Similarly, the Reddit blackout drove Redditors to new venues, and Tumblr users welcomed the folks from r/196 with open arms—we’re huge fans of your memes, y’all, and you fit right in. Welcome, we’re glad you enjoy the chaos. Here’s a fun fact: if we included post metadata in Year in Review rankings, #polls, introduced in January of 2023, would have been the #5 topic on Tumblr this year. Phenomenal. 

And, oh right. Taylor Swift had kind of a big year, what with the albums, the epic global tour, and the movie and stuff. Fantastic work, @taylorswift, the Swifties on Tumblr thank you for everything.

This is Tumblr’s Year in Review.

Artists on Tumblr

Good Omens

The Owl House

Barbie

Pokémon

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Critical Role

Goncharov

Taylor Swift

Genshin Impact

Stranger Things

The Last of Us

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Elon Musk

196

Star Wars

Our Flag Means Death

Crowley | Good Omens

LGBTQ

Cottagecore

Baldur's Gate 3

One Piece

Aziraphale | Good Omens

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

[rosenclaws]

AHHHH IM THINKING ABOUT LOGAN AGAIN... like what would his reaction be when his s/o cooks or bakes for him??? BWIAGAUSHIDBAOAHWIWHS

EE so cute omg

Origins Logan -

He fucking loves it oh my goodness. I mean Logan cook alright. You know he can grill a steak but he wouldn't consider his meals nice home cooked stuff that reminds you of your childhood. if it wasn't that then it was take out or pizza. But when you come around and surprise him with lunch one day he's shocked. He opens up the little brown bag you gave him and inside is pasta and chicken with some veggies. Along with a cute sticky note that's written in your handwriting. He loves it. Fuck the other guys if they tease him about it, at least Logan can say he's got someone waiting for him at home. He looks forwards to all your sticky notes and gets sad if you forget to put one in.

Trilogy Logan -

It's hard for him to get used to it but he likes it. You're always in the kitchen at the mansion and at first Logan thought nothing of it. Teased you about it when he'd come downstairs at 3am to see you baking muffins for breakfast. Then one night the two of you had a little heart to heart and he learned that baking keeps away the bad thoughts, the nightmares and the doubt that's so hell bent on creeping into your brain. He tells you that he doesn't sleep much either with his nightmares and he likes waking up to the smell of something baking. After that he finds little treats waiting for him downstairs or by his door. A note saying that its only for him and no one else. Scott gets annoyed because he loves your baking so why does Logan get extras but that makes Logan even happier. One night he's brought you the empty plate and complained about putting on some weight from your cookies. I think he kisses your cheek as a thank you and walks away hearing your heart beat go into overdrive. Cheeky bastard.

DOFP Logan -

This man NEEDS your cooking. You never should have started cooking for Logan because that man wants it all the time. He can eat for like 5 people too so he's hungry. He knows your cooking like the back of his hand. He can tell when you've changed a recipe or when someone else cooked one of your dishes because it doesn't have that right taste. He swears he can tell but you think he's just being picky. But every time you test him he gets it right. He can always pick the dish you made. When you're alone he jokes it's because it's made with love so that's how he knows. Anyways that man is so needy for your food. It just tastes so good and he doesn't like to share so sometimes he'll beg you to make him his favorite just for him.

Old Man Logan -

He's like a puppy waiting for scraps. Okay he just moved into a small town with Laura and is trying to lay low you know? And so he enrolls Laura into a school and tries to live a normal life, away from all of the violence and threat of before. You're his next door neighbor and show up to his house with fresh baked cookies to welcome them to the neighborhood. It totally throws him off guard. He takes the cookies but isn't great at small talk. Laura devours like half of them and he scolds her for having too much sugar. She starts to bug Logan to ask for more and he says fuck no because that's rude (plus he's dreading having to look you in the eye again, afraid of making himself look like a fool.) Anyways one day he can literally smell you baking those cookies and reluctantly goes over to your house, using the plate you brought them on as an excuse to come see you. He's awkward but still charming and still stupid handsome so somehow it works and he's going home with more cookies. It just brings a love to him that he hasn't felt in a while and he really doesn't wanna let it go.

Worst Logan -

He isn't used it at first and it kinda throws him off. Like he'll wake up and stumble out of bed shirtless and cute and tired and he you serve him a plate of breakfast and he's a little like. huh?? Like a cute puppy head tilt you know. Back in his world he was living off of instant noodles or shitty cheap food. It had been years since he had anything cooked for him really. So seeing you cook for him was so different. You know that whole fatten him up because he's used to basically starving himself back in his world trope? Yeah it totally applies here. As much as you love his abs, you like seeing him well fed more. He doesn't want you cooking all the time because he feels bad about it so you end up teaching him how to cook. It's your date nights. He picks the recipe and you show him how to make it. It's adorable.

[mercifulstate]

⋆.˚ 𖥔˚ YOU WANT IT? YOU GOT IT.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It’s not even about trying. It’s about deciding. It’s about knowing. It’s about stepping into your power like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. When you stop begging and start embodying? Reality bends. Easily. Naturally. Effortlessly. So here’s a cute little list of things I’ve manifested recently to remind you how dangerously powerful you really are. ˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

1. Pizza. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Two days ago, I was on the road with my mom and godmother, going to pick up my Samsung tablet. I really wanted pizza. I mentioned it to my mom, and she hit me with the classic: “we’ll have it next time.” Which, let’s be honest, usually means months or weeks later if I get lucky when everyone suddenly remembers. But I wasn’t fazed. I literally told myself, “eh, no worries, I already have pizza anyway.” This morning? My godmother texts me out of nowhere asking if I want pizza. I’m eating GOOD tonight. No crumbs, literally and metaphorically.

2. Weather change (no, seriously). ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎So it started pouring heavily as we were heading home. And while I love a good gloomy vibe, this wasn’t it—not when we’re driving and I'm terrified for my life because it's actually flooding. I just casually shifted my mindset like “the weather’s already clear, idk what you’re talking about.” Every time doubt tried creeping in, I mentally told it to shut up. And not even 5 minutes later? The rain started fading. The sky started clearing up. A few rebellious droplets tried to stick around, but the vibe had clearly shifted. LUVIT <3

3. My Samsung tablet (aka my artist side has been blessed) ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎This one is wild as fuck LMAO. Like a month or two ago, I was not in the best headspace, okay? My mindset was messy but I YOLO’d it anyway. I thought to myself, “yeah, I already have a tablet,” even though I knew I clearly didn’t. I let myself imagine it. I felt it. Doubts came in, sure, but I didn’t let them stay. Fast forward: my mom casually asks if I want a tablet because my other mom (yes I have two moms, yes they’re married, yes we slay) was planning to give me a Samsung S9 FE. I was so grateful, even though deep down, I realllyyyy wanted an S9 FE+—the exact one I had saved in my manifestation Pinterest board. And then boom. I recently unboxed it and I’m like, “wait… this isn’t the regular S9 FE…” IT WAS AN S9 FE+. Like girl. The exact model I wanted. That’s not coincidence, that’s alignment.

4. Hella good grades. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Let me be clear: I didn’t just get good grades. I am the top student in my class. Point blank. I knew it. I expected it. I didn’t obsess, I didn’t doubt—I just let it be. Sure, I worked for it, but the mindset did half the job. I decided I’d have fun and win. And I did. A 96 average and a silver medal to show for it. But don’t get it twisted, babe. I didn’t achieve that because I was desperate or burnt out—I achieved that because I knew. I didn’t chase. I claimed. ˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

You don’t need to hustle for crumbs when you’re made for the full-course feast. You don’t need to compromise just because the world tells you to be “realistic.”

You just need to decide. Live like it's done, because it’s already done.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Sleeves

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: Deacon's son Sam loves giving you temporary tattoos. When Deacon comes home to find you with a full sleeve of them, he admits he could get used to seeing you like this.

Warnings/Word Count: 1.6k+ words of fluff (in which Deac flirts a lot)

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You step out of the car and sigh. It’s been a long day; you’re tired, stressed, and want to decompress. Before you move toward your door, someone calls your name.

“Sam!” you reply, smiling brightly as you lower to hug him.

“I brought you something,” he mumbles, reaching into his pockets.

“I wonder what it is,” you muse lightly. “Can you give me a hint?”

“No!” he exclaims with a laugh.

After another round of checking his pockets, he withdraws a small square of white cardstock with a plastic film over it. The temporary tattoos have become an inside joke between you and Samuel Kay. Since you did his dad Deacon a favor several months ago and babysat the boys and Lila while he embarked on a late-night raid, you’ve been the happy recipient of more tattoos than you can count. You’ve borne firetrucks, robots, planets, and animals on your skin. Deacon saw the first one, but you’re not sure if he knows that his son enjoys giving you tattoos nearly as much as he enjoys receiving them himself.

“Sam!” Deacon calls, walking into your yard. “What did I tell you about speaking to ladies?”

“Right,” Sam says, pinching his brows as he stands up straighter. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing well, Mr. Kay, thank you. How are you?”

“Better when I give tattoos,” he answers honestly.

Deacon shakes his head, and you thank Sam for the dog tattoo he gives you.

“How are you, older Mr. Kay?” you ask Deacon.

Sam looks between you and his dad, then returns to his brother and sister. You watch him go, smiling at his joy.

“Better when I see you,” Deacon answers.

“You’re teaching your children to be flirts, you know that, right?”

Deacon shrugs. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“My team was invited to an event the mayor is hosting. It’s tomorrow night and my usual babysitters aren’t available on such short notice.”

“I can absolutely watch the kids for you,” you offer. “As long as I can order them pizza.”

“Pizza!” Matthew shouts.

“They’d love that,” Deacon says, shaking his head. “Thank you. I can pay you or find another way to thank you.”

“Flirt,” you exclaim softly.

“You’ve done a lot for us,” Deacon explains. “Made this transition to single parenting easier. I appreciate it more than you know.”

“You deserve it all and more, Deacon. I’ll see you tomorrow, what time?”

“5?”

“See you at 5,” you promise. “Thanks, Sam!” you call. “Hi, Lila, hey, Matthew!”

They stop playing long enough to wave, and as you walk into your home with the smile only Deacon can bring you, you wonder if Deacon has any idea that you are the lucky one in this arrangement.

“Uncle Luca got it for me,” Sam explains after his dad leaves.

You’d had trouble speaking to Deacon before his teammate Street picked him up. With his form-fitting dark suit on, he’d been more attractive than usual, and your eyes and brain were working overtime.

“Very cool,” you tell Sam, looking at the oversized tattoo booklet with him. “Which one do you want to do first?”

Sam hums as he flips the page, and you stifle a laugh when you realize that he’s acting exactly like Deacon. He reaches a page of tattoos that are all pink and purple. He hesitates, then looks at your arm.

“Can I give you some?” Sam asks.

You shrug before you answer, “Sure. Whatever you want, bud.”

While Deacon regrets leaving you and his kids when he could have stayed home or brought you, you realize that giving Sam permission to do whatever he wants might not have been your best idea.

Deacon’s tie is loosened at his neck when he enters his home. The time with his team was enjoyable, but the night felt long, and he was distracted. By you, even though you were miles away.

“Hello?” Deacon calls softly. “Anyone home?”

“In here!” Lila replies.

Deacon smiles as he follows her voice to the living room. You’re lying on the center cushion of the couch with Sam asleep against your side, Lila lying across your legs, and Matthew fighting to stay awake as he watches an animated movie play on the television screen.

“Thank you,” Deacon whispers.

Half an hour later, he’s carried his children to bed, tucked them in, and wished them goodnight. You’ve straightened up the small mess you made during dinner when he returns to the kitchen. The urge to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight startles Deacon, but he realizes quickly that he should’ve seen it coming.

“We had a lot of fun,” you tell Deacon. “Thanks for letting me hang out with my favorite neighbors.”

Deacon smiles, dipping his chin in a way that makes your heart flutter. He pauses, tipping his head to the side as he looks at your arm. Reminiscent of an intrigued puppy, he gently reaches for your arm and lifts it in front of you.

“Nice sleeve,” he muses after a moment.

You laugh at his teasing, unconsciously leaning against him as he traces his fingers beneath a few tattoos, his touch featherlight yet addictive and enlivening.

“I like it,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

Deacon trails his fingers down your arm, then links his fingers in yours to hold your hand.

“How was the thing with the mayor?” you whisper.

“Something was missing,” Deacon admits, using your joined hands to guide you closer.

“You’re jealous of my sweet tats,” you joke softly. “They would look good with your suit.”

Deacon nods, clearly not listening to you. He lifts his other hand to hold the back of your head before he tilts your head, gentle in his movements as he guides you into the perfect position.

“I could get used to it,” Deacon says.

“It?” you repeat, glancing down at his lips.

“Coming home to you, seeing you with my kids, watching Sam cover you in tattoos.”

“I could get used to it, too,” you whisper.

That’s all Deacon needs to hear, and he closes the distance between you. He holds you gently, lovingly, and reverently. Deacon makes the world around you disappear. In this moment, you know him and him alone. Then, he spreads his palm over your tattooed bicep and traces an already flaking mark that sends shivers down your spine.

Three months after Deacon first kissed you in his darkened kitchen, you find yourself against his side during a movie night. Samuel is drawing on your arm with skin-safe markers and a printed picture, but you’re not allowed to look until he’s finished because he wants to surprise you. Lila’s hair remains in braids after your girls’ lunch earlier today. This feels like home. Like you’re where you’re supposed to be.

“Looks good, Sam,” Deacon says, his chest moving against your back as he speaks.

“Can I look yet?” you request.

Sam caps a marker, then nods and bends your arm so you can see it. The flowers and shapes lining the top and bottom of your forearm are messy in the most perfect way, but it’s the handwritten note that catches your attention. Sam tried hard, and from how slowly he moved the marker along your skin, you know he was copying his dad’s handwriting.

“Thank you, Sam,” you say before you turn to face Deacon. “Yes,” you tell him, smiling brightly as you reach for him.

Deacon smiles, pleased by your answer to Sam’s tattooed ‘Will you be Daddy’s girlfriend?’ tattoo. “Nice sleeve,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest to kiss you.

“Which one?” Lila asks, holding up two temporary tattoos.

You point to the one on the right: two interlocked rings. Your arm has slowly become covered from your shoulder to your wrist. With less than thirty minutes until you walk down the aisle to marry Deacon, you already know his reaction will be great.

Lila takes your unmarked hand, and you smile as you look down at her. She looks adorable in her dress, and how she looks at you like she loves you and the life you’re creating for her with Deacon makes your heart thump harder in your chest.

“Can I call you Mom now?” she asks.

You fight the tears threatening to build in your eyes, unwilling to disturb your makeup. “If- if you want to, Lila, of course you can.”

“Thanks, Mom,” she says.

She skips toward the small table by your vanity table and takes a mint as if she didn’t just change your entire life with a single word. Luca knocks on your door and smiles at you before he tells you it’s time to take your place at the end of the aisle.

Deacon’s eyes are on you the moment you come into view. His gaze drops to your arm, but then he sees you. His eyes are watery when you reach the altar, and you shake your head as a warning not to cry.

“That’s my favorite sleeve yet,” Deacon tells you before the ceremony begins.

As your reception closes, and only your closest friends and family remain, you hold a sleeping Sam in your arms, and Deacon spins Lila around the dance floor. You're in your new life now, your family. If every moment feels half as perfect as this – temporary tattoo sleeve or you as you are – then you can never ask for anything more.

Bonus:

“So, what are you planning to do with your dress?” Deacon asks.

You look up from your phone, where you’d been scrolling through crafts to preserve your wedding decorations. “One side of my dress is covered with temporary tattoo stains,” you remind him. “I’m going to treasure that forever.”

“We can just give you new tattoos next time you want to ruin an outfit,” Deacon points out. “Or when we get back from the honeymoon, or when-“

“I get it,” you interrupt. “You like the sleeves.”

“Yeah, I do. But I love the girl under them.”

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

911 Lone Star Season 5

♥️🧡💛💚💙💜

This project, the product of over 5 months of work, is my love letter to Lone Star Season 5 💜

KEY:

1.The armored truck involved in the heist investigated and solved by the Rangers

2. Tacos from the taco truck (as visited by TK and Carlos)

3. Ranger Carlos Reyes—his hat and two belts

4. TK says to Carlos “I’ll leave a light on for you.”

5. Lou II

6. The train that gets derailed

7. Mateo says to Franklin, trapped under the derailed train, “I just drained your heart, bro!”

8. Donuts brought to the firehouse by Carlos

9. The little unicorn from Franklin’s dashboard

10. The explosion caused by the train derailment

11. Paul’s new title, Lt. Paul Strickland

12. TK’s fan

13. The pizza made by Carlos and Trevor

14. The train car marked with the “X” and the one leaking chlorine gas

15. The ladder that Paul injures himself lifting

16. Elevator emoji to represent the elevator rescue

17. Catan from Paul’s dream

18. A rat from the hoarder woman’s house

19. Sabotage! As suspected by TK and Nancy when Tommy tells them what’s going on with Trevor’s ex-wife

20. The wine Trevor’s daughter spikes with eye drops to make her mom sick

21. Elevator baby

22. Carlos’ Ranger vest

23. Owen’s lasso

24. The horse, Thunder

25. TK and Carlos’ anniversary presents—a guitar and an empty box

26. Carlos says to TK, “Every second I get with you is a gift, and I’m done wasting it.”

27. The chairs from couples’ therapy

28. TK lifting weights in the gym

29. Owen says to Robert, “I’m sorry, I promised.”

30. Marlene’s burning barn

31. The vending machine that crushes the poor guy

32. Marlene’s dog

33. The 126 group chat, which Nancy and Mateo try to rid of the accidental nude photo

34. FBI vest and handcuffs

35. TK’s birthday party balloons

36. The big “30” and the karaoke microphone from TK’s party

37. Jonah says to TK, “I can hold my breath.”

38. TK’s birthday cake given to him at the firehouse

39. Carlos’ black cowboy hat

40. The tree the poor guy gets impaled in

41. A baseball and stick bug from the story about TK’s childhood told by Enzo

42. Nancy’s new title, Captain Gillian

43. Carlos’ Ranger vest and TK’s paramedic vest

44. The flag of Switzerland (representing Swiss boarding school)

45. Enzo’s orange jumpsuit

46. The frying pan poor Julio uses in self-defense and the tooth that results

47. TK asks Enzo, “Who’s gonna hug him?” When he finds out about the boarding school plan for Jonah

48. The loft couch

49. The podium from the city council meeting where the 126 fights for Tommy’s healthcare coverage

50. Carlos’ vest with blood from where he got shot

51. Two hats to represent Carlos and Sam

52. Judd’s empty liquor bottles

53. Carlos says to Gabriel, “Te quiero para siempre, Papá.”

54. Gabriel’s grave

55. Tommy’s chemo

56. Marjan’s wedding cake and sword

57. A flower arch that’s a little bit thin on the left

58. Joe asks Marjan, “Are you a Firefox or are you a Mouse?”

59. Judd pouring his liquor down the drain

60. Grace calling

61. The plant Mateo and Nancy plan to share

62. Jonah’s nook

63. Charles says to Tommy, “I’m here to bring you home.”

64. The explosion used to get into the bunker

65. The asteroid

66. The drill used to drill into the poor professor’s head

67. Judd says, “126 forever” and Mateo says, “126 for ten more seconds.”

68. The SCRAM button

69. Owen’s cowboy hat he displays in his New York office

70. The on-fire nuclear cooling tower

71. Chocolate chip pancakes and spilled chips

72. Judd’s new title, Captain Ryder

[burningembers91]

Cosmopolitan Kisses - Cho Hyun-Ju x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Powder Blue Dress

Synopsis: After a night out, the unspoken feelings between you and Hyun-Ju bubble to the surface

Cho Hyun-Ju couldn’t remember a time when she’d be happier. These days, her face ached from the almost constant smile she wore. Life was almost perfect for her, and she had you to thank for that. For the first time in her existence, she didn’t feel like a freak, like a burden. She felt comfortable in her own skin, she felt beautiful when she looked in the mirror. Your friendship had been invaluable; the love, grace and acceptance you’d shown was unlike anything she’d known. She still endured stares, jeers and awkward comments from those around her, but they seemed to bounce off her a little easier these days. There were still days when the words got to her, but she didn’t have to deal with it alone anymore.

She’d found a great friend group, one who’d accepted her just the way she was. There were no uncomfortable questions, no expectations for her to be someone she wasn’t. She looked forward to her weekends, enjoyed doing her makeup and putting on the feminine outfits she’d bought; she enjoyed being absolutely unapologetically herself. If she wasn’t sipping cocktails, she was singing loudly to karaoke or challenging her friends to beat her high score at the arcade. Sometimes she’d invite everyone to her apartment, relishing in the opportunity to play hostess to the friends who’d become the centre of her world. And right there in the middle was you, the girl who’d told Hyun-Ju that you thought she had a beautiful smile. You looked incredible tonight, in a black dressed that hugged you in all the right places. You laughed as your sipped on your Cosmopolitan, listening as one of your new friends told you about a disastrous date she’d been on. Your lipstick had marked the rim of your glass, the bold, rich redness pulling Hyun-Ju in. She got lost in the way your lips looked. The way they arched up when you smiled, the way the tip of your tongue flicked across your upper lip every now and then. She longed to kiss you, to have your lipstick stain her lips. You caught her smiling, offering her one in return.

She was on her third cocktail now, and her confidence was growing. You’d had brief conversations about your dating preferences over the last few months, and you’d all but confirmed that you fell for someone based on their personality, not on their anatomy. But something still stopped Hyun-Ju from taking the next step. A lifetime of rejection and ridicule had made her doubt herself, and she would hate to ruin what you had. “Do you want another one?” you asked, pointing to her almost empty glass. “It’s my round.” She nodded at you, watching as you made your way to the bar, your dress clinging to your figure. How she longed to put her hands on your waist, to pull you into her and feel your lips on hers. It was a scenario she’d replayed in her head and again, the image fuelling her desires on the nights where sleep escaped her.

You weren’t sure how many drinks you ended up having, not including the shots your friends insisted you downed to finish the night. You were well and truly feeling the effect of the cocktails as you and Hyun-Ju stumbled home arm in arm, laughing the whole way. “My feet are killing me,” you groaned, kicking off your shoes as you finally made it back to your apartment. “And I’m starving. Should we order a pizza?” “I already did.” Hyun-Ju flashed you her phone screen, smiling as she saw your face light up. She’d been on enough nights out with you now to know you always got hungry on the way home.

She wasn’t sure what the time was, but time seemed to stand still with you. She pulled a blanket over you both as you crashed on the sofa, resisting the urge to pull you in close to her. The TV was on, but she wasn’t paying attention to the channel, too busy recreating the frankly award-winning performance of 9-5 the two of you had sung at karaoke earlier in the night. Hyun-Ju had tears of laughter streaming down her face by the time the pizza arrived. It felt good to feel this light, to feel this on top of the world. As you stifled a yawn, she knew it was time to head back to her apartment. Back to the silence of her tiny room, where she knew she’d lie awake and think of you.

“I had an amazing time,” you smiled, your arms snaking round Hyun-Ju’s waist as you pulled her in for a hug. Any form of touch from you left her breathless, and tonight was no exception. You smelled like lavender shampoo and vanilla, your body so warm and soft against hers. She didn’t want to let go of you, didn’t want to end the night when she was having such a perfect time. As you parted, your eyes met, and the world seemed to stand still. She could see the steady rise and fall of your chest, could see the way you nervously bit your bottom lip.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” you whispered, your fingers entwining with hers. “Are you sure?” Hyun-Ju was so taken aback, so thrown off course that she was sure she’d heard you wrong. Never had she imagined that you, the girl she sang with, confided in and counted on would ever see her as more than a friend. “Yes,” you smiled, “I’m definitely sure.”

Your lips met, soft and slow. The feel of your kiss was electric, sending the most delicious sparks through Hyun-Ju’s entire body. She’d spent months dreaming about kissing you, but the dreams were nothing in comparison to reality. Your hand trailed up her back, coming to rest on the nape of her neck. She sighed contentedly into your lips as your fingers entwined in her hair, a feeling she’d thought about endlessly. She wondered how it would feel if you’d pulled on it, if you tipped her head back and explored her neck with your lips. You were so confident, so sure of yourself, guiding her as your kiss deepened. She placed her hands on your waist, feeling the softness of your curves in the dress she loved so much. She felt you shiver against her touch, heard your soft breathy moan as your teeth gently grazed her lower lip.

Neither of you wanted to pull away, but both of you were so conscious of taking your time, of making sure you got this right. You’d wanted each other for so long, but good things came to those who waited. “I should let you get some sleep,” Hyun-Ju smiled, placing a final soft kiss on your lips. “Come and see me tomorrow?” you asked, unable to resist one more tender kiss. Nodding, she left you, her feet dragging her back to her apartment. She wanted to stay so badly, to feel your body against hers, to make you moan her name. But there were so many things unspoken between the two of you, so many insecurities she hadn’t even begun to face yet.

Hyun-Ju wondered if you’d stay, knowing that she still had so far to go. Relationships were an unexplored territory for her, a place she’d never been. She was terrified and exhilarated at the same time, her hands shaking as she readied for bed.

Her transition journey wasn’t over, and she hadn’t even cracked the surface of the lifetime of negative emotions and thoughts she had stored away. She hoped you’d stay with her while she figured this out, she hoped you could navigate this new journey together. You meant more to Hyun-Ju than she would ever be able to express. You were the girl who thought she had a beautiful smile, the person who, for the first time in her life, made her feel unstoppable.