#long distance fic

[ladamedusoif]

Long Distance - Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2000 

Warnings: SMUT; Established relationship; Reader lives in Europe; No physical description of Reader; Older!Marcus; Marcus with a PhD; FaceTime sex; masturbation (F and M); oral sex (F receiving); unprotected but safe PiV sex; dirty talk; come (cum) play

Summary: Happily settled with you on the other side of the Atlantic and now working primarily in consultancy, Dr Marcus Pike sometimes finds himself travelling back to the US for work. But there’s always video calling, right?

A/N: I got...carried away. Ahem. I'm not really using taglists any more so follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications. Thank you @agentjackdaniels for previewing this smutty little story.

You never really sleep easy when he’s not here. Strange, after all those years on your own, comfortably splayed out across your large mattress. A year of sharing a bed with Marcus, though, and you feel unsettled without him.

The display on your sunrise alarm clock reads 1.30am when your phone lights up with a message.

You still awake? x

Your fingertips tap out a swift response.

Very much so. x

You settle yourself and your phone as the call comes through. A moment of connection, and there he is: Marcus. Your Marcus, looking so very distinguished with his wavy, silver-streaked hair, warm eyes, and mischievous, boyish smile. He breaks into a wide grin as you appear on the screen.

“There you are, baby.”

"Here I am, love. How are you doing?” You cast a glimpse over the schlubby old FBI t-shirt he sometimes wears lounging around the house. “Are you in bed already?”

Marcus groans and rolls his eyes. “Yup, pretty much. I’m so tired, the clients all want to start at the crack of dawn. Why are they all so obsessed with breakfast meetings here?”

You chuckle. “Sweet man, you’ve become Europeanised.”

"I mean, you do have the better coffee.” He props himself up, resting his chin on his hand. “I miss you so fucking much. It’s only been three days and I’m going crazy.”

"I miss you, too. But what is it - tonight, and then two more nights? And then you’re all mine again.”

Marcus’s chocolate-brown eyes soften as he smiles softly, taking you in. “God, I can’t wait. Fuck, you look so good. Is that the, uh… that nightdress?”

You preen a little for the camera, innocently moving your body ever so slightly. You’re confident that he’s now got an even clearer picture of your tits, nestled in the burgundy lace of your - and his - favourite strappy chemise. 

“This old thing?”

He shakes his head and bites his lower lip, grinning. “You are a tease. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

"And what am I doing, Dr Pike? Use all that agent training, tell me. Decipher me.”

He licks his lips. “You’re showing off your beautiful tits, knowing perfectly well I can’t stand not being able to touch them right now.”

You keep eye contact but trail a finger along the soft line of your cleavage, slipping it under the lace to flick gently over your nipple. All the way across the Atlantic, Marcus groans on his DC hotel room bed.

"Oh, I see. You liked that, hmmm?”

He nods. “You know I liked it, baby. Fuck, you are gorgeous, you know? Just…perfect.”

You notice his right arm moving a little, working at something off-screen. 

“Are you hard, darling? Are you touching your cock?”

"Mmmm. Yeah, just - just through my shorts.” His gaze flits from your tits to your eyes and back, his breath a little laboured. “You turn me on so much, feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Will you jerk off for me, Marcus? Let me see how hard I make you. Please.” With a flutter of your eyelids you slip down the spaghetti straps of your chemise to reveal your breasts, nipples hard and soft flesh spilling over the lace cups.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. Yes. Hold on -“ He reaches for his phone and angles it just so, so you can see him tugging down the dark grey sweat shorts and his hard, thick cock springing free against his tummy. He wraps his right hand around it, gently pulling back the foreskin to reveal the head already weeping with pre-come. 

Now it’s your turn to whine as your pussy clenches around nothing, reacting to the sight of his cock ready and waiting and so far away. Marcus grins as he continues to stroke himself.

"Think you need to play with your pussy, too.”

You nod and slip a hand between your legs, gathering some of your growing wetness and displaying it to him on your fingers. “See how much I miss you, love?”

He speeds up a little, fucking into his fist and never taking his eyes off you. “Fuck, I wish my mouth was on that pretty little cunt of yours. Wish I was eating you out right now, baby.”

"And I wish I had your gorgeous, hard cock in my mouth, darling.” You start to rub harder, insistent circles over your swollen clit and moan as you listen to the sound of your boyfriend jerking off. 

He moans and closes his eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me, what would you do?” 

“I’d use my tongue - lick the shaft, first, the way you like it.” The sound of your wetness is lewd and arousing. “Then - oh, fuck - take you into my mouth, suck the head, stroke you with my hand…”

Marcus pauses to spit into his hand, a poor substitute for the lubrication offered by your slick. “Keep going. Keep fucking going, love.”

“Fuck, I wish I had that gorgeous cock inside me.” You slip a finger inside your pussy and whine at the sensation as you press on the sensitive spot he knows exactly how to work. “M’finger is nothing, need you.”

Marcus pants as he continues to stroke his cock, and pulls up his t-shirt to expose his belly. He’s getting close. “Wish I was fucking you, too. Feeling - oh, fuck - all of you on my cock, pulling out and…” He screws up his face and groans and your cunt aches for him. “Fuck, I want to come on your tits.”

Your free hand finds your breast as you continue to rut against your hand, fingers pinching the nipple and massaging the flesh. It’s your Marcus. He deserves a show, and you’re only too happy to deliver. He grunts and groans, never taking his eyes off you. 

“I’m really close, Marcus.” Your hips buck upward as you near your peak. “I’m gonna come for you - fuck, gonna -“

He strokes himself furiously, desperately, as he watches you reach orgasm - and talks you through it.

"Jesus, look at you. Coming on your own hand - oh, fuck - getting yourself off for me. Good girl. Good - fuck, gonna come - fucking good girl.”

He comes hard, angling his cock so that the white, viscous come hits his bare tummy. Your cunt still aches for him. 

“I wish I was there to clean you up, Marcus.”

He chuckles and lies back on the pillows, curls damp with sweat and a huge smile on his face. He grabs his phone so you can see him. “Right back at you. Bet you’re so wet now, huh?”

“Soaked.”

“Fuck. Hope you’re ready for when I come home, baby.”

In the early morning, your sleeping form rests peacefully in your large bed, an arm cuddling a pillow to your torso for comfort. When you’d set your alarm the night before, you reminded yourself that you just had two more nights before he was home again. 

Two more nights. Two more sleeps. And then: him. Him. Only him. 

A shifting weight on the mattress stirs you, still halfway between waking and slumber. In the hazy half-light, you turn your head and find a beautiful, familiar sight. 

“Hi, baby.”

“M-Marcus? What are you - did I get my dates wrong? I thought you were back tomorrow…”

“I was supposed to be,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “and I took an earlier flight because I just missed you so much. Hey - is that my shirt?”

You nod, turning your body wholly towards him and nuzzling against him. “It is. Your Georgetown T-shirt, I just - it feels like you.” He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “Marcus - what about the work?”

He hums happily. “The clients were happy, and there isn’t much more to do that I can’t do from here.” 

He moves his lips to your neck, softly nipping and licking the delicate skin as his big hands work their way under the T-shirt and up to your breasts. 

“I have been thinking about this the whole way home.”

You giggle. “Oh really? And you were able to keep yourself under control?”

Marcus kisses you on the mouth as he nods, fingers kneading your tits. “My self-discipline was tested, I admit, but oh, fuck, baby…”

Your hands are on his crotch, feeling the growing hardness under the grey sweatpants he likes to wear on long-distance flights. You lean into his ear as you tug down the sweats and his boxers, taking his cock in your hand. 

“Why don’t you see if I’m still wet from the other night?”

With a groan, Marcus slips his hand between your legs and finds the wetness already pooling at your core. “Pretty fucking wet, baby.” He sucks his fingers clean of your slick before shucking off his sweatshirt and tee.

“Good.” You sit up and quickly straddle him, his thighs between yours as you peel off the old T-shirt so you’re completely bare for him. “I’m going to make you feel so good, darling man.”

You gather some of your own slick across your palm and fingers before taking his cock in your hand, stroking the velvet skin of the shaft and gently bringing your palm over the head in a fluid motion that you know drives him wild. Marcus watches your hands as you pleasure him, little animalistic noises issuing forth from his beautiful mouth as he grows ever harder under your practiced touch. 

“Do you want me?”

He nods furiously and you lift yourself up to shift forward, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. 

“Tell me, Marcus.”

"Need you so fucking bad, baby. Please.”

You take him inside you in one stroke, your wetness easing his thick cock into the tightness of your pussy. Marcus cries out as you begin to ride him, hands pressed into his broad chest. 

“Better than the phone sex, huh?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you hiss, hips rolling in a well-established rhythm as you fuck him. “Liked watching you jerk off to me, though.”

"Me too, baby.” Marcus grips your hips and grins as he admires you: your body, your curves, the way you’re letting yourself go as you ride his cock. You bite your lip and roll back your head, lost in the sensation of how your man stretches and fills you so perfectly.

When you slip a finger against your clit, he practically growls, meeting your rhythm as he starts to fuck up into you.

“‘M not gonna last, baby,” he pants, fingers pressing into the flesh of your hips and ass. 

“You want to come on my tits, like you said?”

His desperate nod is your cue to lift yourself off his cock, glistening with your slick and his pre-come, and shuffle down the bed a little. You press your breasts together as Marcus wraps his broad hand around his cock and pumps it quickly. 

“Fuck, your tits are pretty. So fucking soft and perfect and -“

He stutters and cries out as he comes, his release hitting your breasts and gathering on the hard peaks of your nipples. 

You gather some of it up on your finger and suck it clean. 

“Jesus, baby. That’s so fucking hot.” 

You release your finger with a pop. “Thank you, love. Can you get me a cloth?”

He wanders off and returns with a washcloth, gently cleaning your body and his cock before returning it to the bathroom. By the time he gets back, you’re tucked under the covers again. He grins as he joins you, pulling your naked body to his. 

“Missed you.” You wind an errant, silver-streaked curl around your finger. “It feels like there’s something missing when you’re not here.”

Marcus kisses your forehead and you nuzzle up against his chest. “Don’t I know it? I felt exactly the same in DC, wondering where you were. Missed going to sleep beside you, waking up with you.”

You chuckle against the warm, sweat-damp skin of his chest, pressing your lips to the freckles dusted across his golden body. “And fucking me.”

He laughs, and the sound makes your heart soar. “That, too. But trust me - I’ll make it up to you.”

"Oh you will, huh?”

His coffee-brown eyes are as sincere and honest as ever. “Always and forever. Even with jet lag.”

dividers by @cafekitsune

#long distance fic #ladameecrit #la dame writes #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedrostories

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm suddenly thinking about rockstar!eddie shooting a music video on some naval ship and meeting actual sailor!steve who's all dressed up in his whites 'cause eddie's a big name star and the captain said everyone had to look their best and eddie immediately folding for the pretty guy in uniform

just: eddie wanting a couple of the guys to act in the video 'cause hopefully then they'd actually know what they're doing, and asking the capt to point out his most competent sailor. the capt immediately points out one of his low-ranking ensigns (like, brand new baby officer 'cause that's the kinda shit an officer would pull) and eddie, having been raised by wayne (who i'm hc-ing as a navy vet) knows better and is immediately like "No sir, I said your most competent, not your least. someone point me to THE second class. Where's he? I need an enlisted guy." and a higher-ranking chief that's been following the band around the ship all day bellows out a laugh and says "You're gonna want Harrington, Mr. Munson."

idk idk, it's niche but for some reason my mind went into the cold clammy depths of my time in the navy this morning and i was like 'NOPE! don't wanna dwell here, make it fun! make it about the blorbos so you dont get sad!!' lmao

#the worms wormed a little bit this morning #i have a whole hc about the song for the video being one that jeff wrote about missing his gf while out on tour #but it's also just about long distance/missing someone in general and eddie's like 'ya okay i don't quite get it' but he's the lead singer #so he's gonna be the one headling the vid and they decide on a ship cause what else is that longing but missing your SO while on deployment #crossover of fic readers and those who have inside knowledge of the /actual/ inner workings of being on a ship is slim to none #but that sliver includes me lmao #does this count as lore? #i'm gonna say it does #noelle lore #steddie #steddie hc #steve harrington #eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #sailor!steve #sailor!steve x rockstar!eddie

[luniarix]

FAVORITE FOLLOWER

ᥫ᭡synopsis : you have a mysterious follower who has been swiping up on your stories to flirt with you, and when you finally stop hesitating to reply back, he’s quick to make sure he sweeps you off your feet. if you let him, of course.

ᥫ᭡NOTE : the texts are a bit cut off, and i rlly don’t know how to fix it since it’s an app thing so :’))) (and don’t mind the dates on the texts(´；ω；`) it was too much of a hassle to change em LMAO) but just know that toji is complimenting you in each text you sexies <333

CW : fem!reader, chubby!reader, shy!reader, fluff, flirting, gentleman!toji, biker!toji, reader being an overthinker, slight angst (reader’s inner thoughts), talks of insecurity and reassurance, long distance!au, texting!au (with some cheesy texts), toji pining after u first o(｀ω´ )o, the bff is up to interpretation of your own gals :-)

a prequel to *⁀➷ 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜

“did he swipe up again?” your best friend asks, taking a bite out of the fruit bowl she was indulging in. you chew on your bottom lip, a way to try and suppress your lingering smile as you glance at her. “uh—yeah.” you breathlessly say, staring at the dms between you and another user.

toji was his name. you knew that much by his user and the way friends addressed him in the comments. he was a mysterious person, because although he posted himself, it was never much of his face. he was a biker, and he’d usually post the late night drives he went on. so that means, his helmet was all you could usually see.

but oh god, even if he didn’t show his face, everything else about him was so sexy. you just knew that he was so, so handsome. your best friend never fails to mention that huge possibility when the topic of toji himself is brought up—and intrigues you even more about who he really is.

“what’d he text you?” your friend asks, raising a brow as she sees the way you’re trying to hide the growing smile as you’re staring at your phone screen. you clear your throat, trying to act nonchalant. “nothing, he just said that i look pretty from my story.” she stares at you with a knowing look.

“let me see.” she gets up to walk over to you, curiosity and excitement written all over her face. you bashfully hesitate to show her your screen, but when you do—she’s practically geeking.

“girl why haven’t you replied to him yet?!”she scrolls up to see that he’s been consistently replying to your stories for a while, and you’re looking away from her piercing stare.

“2 and a half months of him flirting in your dms? and you’ve only been liking his texts?babes c’mon!! you should answer him!” your friend playfully hits her hips with yours and you groan. “well i would but—but i just haven’t had the courage to.” you place your head down, folding your arms under your head as support. your friend scoots closer towards you and places your phone right beside your elbow.

“just start by responding to his most recent flirty text to the picture you posted the other day.” you raise your head up again and grab your phone, glancing at your friend anxiously. she winks back at you in reassurance. you huff and slowly straighten your back, staring at your screen as you try to think of how to finally respond to him.

spring had just started rolling around, and the picture you posted on your story was of you in a long sleeve body con dress. you didn’t look anywhere near extravagant, as it was simply supposed to be an outfit out for a arcade night with your friends. but the way toji complimented you, you might as well have been wearing a dress to some gala.

he always had a formal way of complimenting— and if you were being honest, you liked it so much more than what other men were complimenting you with.

u fine asf. u send? and yo u sexy, let me hit pls aren’t exactly what a girl wants to hear as a conversation starter.

you suck in your bottom lip, chewing on the soft skin as you begin to type. you wanted to respond at one point, but with how highly he praised you, you shied away from flirting back as you felt a bit intimidated by him— more so because he was so mysterious and the way he carried himself was intriguing. you wanted to get to know him, truly.

but if you didn’t live up to what he was expecting? if you end up making him pull away somehow? if he wanted more than you could give? if you weren’t enough?

the overwhelming thoughts of overthinking chipped away at your eagerness to reply back, and so you’ve been putting it off. but with the push of your friend, you decide that it’s time to finally pull up those big girl panties and text the man that has been complimenting you in ways that has you swooning over and over again.

you decided that it’d be best to respond with a simple thank you, as you were still nervous as to how to start a conversation with him.

you stare at the screen as you groan, cringing at your own texts as you believed that maybe you should’ve said something different. you began to debate if you should just delete the text and say something else, but the more you thought about it the more you got into your own head. it wasn’t until you see the words “seen” under your texts that you begin freaking out.

“oh my god he’s texting—what the fuck!!” you panicked as you threw your phone across the table and began to fan yourself. your friend stares at you before cracking up, grabbing your phone as she hears a ding. “he texted you back already? girl he want you so bad. hurry up and reply!” she tosses your phone back to you, and you groan as you try to calm your nerves.

this was so stupid, it’s not like this was the first time someone was sliding up your dms—but it was different with him. toji was someone who you’d started crushing on the first time he swiped up. so like, freaking out was a normal reaction no?

“hurry up and check what he said!!” your friend ushers you while laughing to turn your phone back on as you playfully swat her away. you go back to instagram, and you can’t help but get flushed all over again.

you wince in shame. of course he would ask you as soon as you replied back—after all, you did keep him hanging for 2 and a half months while he was basically flirting with the wall in your dms. but he can’t blame you! you liked all of his texts, and you were just too shy (more like hesitant) to respond back until now! he’ll understand, right?

you sigh at the utter arrogance of that thought process. but you had to be honest with him, you knew that. but starting off a conversation in which you explained your insecurities and overthinking with him wasn’t a good first impression for yourself for a man that could blossom into someone more than a stranger—so you decided to give him a short yet truthful answer.

maybe, if (when) you two had the chance to grow into something more in the future, you would answer him in full.

if you were being honest, it’s quite endearing to know that toji’s clearly been waiting for your responses, and he’s now typing back. you tug at your oversized shirt as you let out a sigh of relief.

it was an exhale that you didn’t even know you were holding in.

you softly laugh at your silly overthinking, realizing how much you let the thoughts consume you that you hadn’t even given yourself the chance to get to know toji.

it seemed frightening the longer you pondered the interaction, and you probably should’ve done this a while ago.

after all, the things that frighten us within our minds tend to be less scarier when we’re actually faced with them.

“so how’s the convo with mysterious biker going?” your friend's soft-spoken voice brings you out of your inner monologue. you turn your body slightly towards her as you place your phone down to calm your nerves. they were good nerves, though. you were excited to finally get to talk to him.

a small but glowing smile forms on your lips as you prop your elbows on the table, resting your chin on your palms. "it's going good—and we're getting towards an actual conversation." your friend doesn’t miss how your eyes twinkle with giddiness, and she grins at you. “okay girl, see—i told you you should’ve texted him way sooner.” she gives you a pointed stare and you avert your gaze embarrassedly.

“i know,” you sheepishly shrug your shoulders, grabbing your phone again to look at what toji said. “i might have been holding myself back from letting him in—even if it was for just a moment.” you admit, words slowly dying out as you stare at your screen.

oh my. did he just call you mamas? and he’s been wanting to get to know you? he’s been wanting you? this whole time?

you almost let out a loud squeal, but you cover it up by keeping your fist near your mouth, muffling the giddy noise you made. was it even possible to fold this fast in a conversation? because surely, you knew by now that you didn’t want to stop here.

you almost didn’t even notice the change of texting toji had because of how exhilarated you felt, but you found it so cute as you believed it to be him getting more comfortable with you.

oh, you should’ve—really should’ve—talked to him much sooner. but you shouldn’t dwell on it anymore, as you still ended up talking to him. you begin to type, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re grinning, and your head in cloud 9.

“so,” your friend starts, having you turn your attention to her once again. "i see that you and toji are hitting it off pretty well, huh?" she raises her brows at you teasingly. you laugh, nodding your head in response.

“yeah… i—” you cut yourself off, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words. “i thought that it would be really intimidating if i ever talked to him, but i realized that i was just… afraid, i guess?” you timidly shrug your shoulders, because admitting how you felt out loud made you realize how trivial your hesitation actually was.

“now you know, hm?” your friend gives you a warm smile, knowing that the realization had hit you. she doesn’t tease you about it, nor does she make any more comments besides that.

no one should be forced to step out of their comfort zone if they aren't ready to do so anyway.

you give her a toothy-grin, nodding energetically. you were ecstatic—to say the least. “i’m not sure where this’ll go but i really want to take that leap—he’s super sweet and so cute.” your friend whistles in agreement. “look at what he’s said then!”

and so you do.

a sudden surge of warmth blooms and spreads throughout your chest, reaching up your neck and spreading across your face. you were warm, but it (mostly) wasn’t because you were swooning for toji once again—it was because you felt like this was the start of something new.

you had a gut feeling that this was going to be a long, and most definitely exciting new journey. and this time; you weren’t hesitant.

feel free to leave ideas in my inbox or a comment ♡ if i made any grammar mistakes that i missed, lmk! and thank u so much for reading (●´ω｀●)

#toji headcanons #toji imagine #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu toji #jjk fanfic #toji fic #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji zenin #jjk imagines #jjk toji #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk x chubby reader #toji x chubby #toji x chubby reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro toji #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanart #jjk fluff #slight angst #chubby reader #jjk au #biker au #long distance romance

[momotonescreaming]

Modern au where steddie are dating long distance.

They meet online, chatting about the fanfiction that Eddie writes and Steve reads. They chat about shared interests in tv, and movies, and music. About shitty parents and coming out. And then it sort of evolves from there.

Messaging, turns into phone calls, turns in video calls, turns into racing hearts and sweaty palms when they see a notification from the other. Turns into counting down the seconds until they can open their laptops and call. Turns into hardcore longing, and pining, and whispering I like you through the screen.

They start dating.

Steve will send him messages ending in hearts and kisses. Will send him thirst trap photos he takes at the gym. Takes photos of the dinner he makes and sends it to Eddie with captions saying he's saving him a piece <3. Learns to make Eddie's favourite foods, so he can make them for him when they meet.

Eddie sends him previews of the fic he's writing. Photos of him performing with his band, sweaty and smiling. Serenades him over video call, acoustic guitar perched in his lap. Watches the basketball with Steve, each from their respective living rooms.

He wonders what it would be like if they were together. If Steve could cook him the dinner he learnt just for him, if Eddie could curl into his side as they watch the game together, Steve whispering the rules of basketball into his ear.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss Steve. To feel those plump lips on his. To taste him. His sweat, his flavoured chapstick. Would he put his hands on his waist? His jaw? Cradle his face? Would he make it slow and sweet? Or rushed and desperate? Would Steve whisper I love you into the warmth of Eddie's mouth?

But they live on opposite sides of the country.

He loves what they have. He loves having Steve. But Eddie wants what other people have. Would like to go on a date that isn't through a laptop. Would like to be able to kiss and hug and even just touch his boyfriend.

#Stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steddie #steddie prompt #modern au #long distance au #momo.txt #My Writing #sorta #idk im having emotions about them #eddie writes lord of the rings fanfic #(also supernatural) #and steve watched the movies with dustin #who then tried to bug him to read the books #and it was just too much to read for steve #fanfiction though? #it was easier to digest #also gayer #and this one fic writer always replies happily and eagerly to his comments

[outerbankies]

“it’s late, come back to bed.”

PROMPT CELLY GO BRRRRRRRRR. thank u for requesting this one (forever ago) bestie!!!! 💓🤩👯‍♀️

—

new light: space and time

rafe x reader, part of the 2k prompt celly for new light (masterlist if ur not up on NL). we’re back in the present!

A stubborn knot about the size of a fist had settled into place at the top of Rafe’s spine slowly over the last few weeks, right in between his often-taught shoulder blades.

He guesses it was during the late nights like these that it began to form, when he’s hunched over his sketching table in the garage lit only by the warm lightbulb in the work lamp over his head—drawing and erasing and scrapping to start over again and again. Or when he’s on his laptop tinkering with his website or any of the platforms he uses for invoicing and processing orders, easily his least favorite part of all of this, until his eyes are irritated and red.

Though it’s certainly not made better by the other half of his day, where he’s hunched over or crouching under his projects as he brings them to life, doubting himself the entire time, twisting himself into weird angles just to make sure everything holds and looks how he pictured it. But at least he likes that part.

A hand, holding a warmth that Rafe can feel through the cotton of his long-sleeve t-shirt, settles directly into place over that knot at the top of his spine, and he feels himself take a deep, steadying breath as he leans back into your touch.

“What’s this, baby, the built-ins?” you ask, your voice softer in these midnight hours.

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, immediately rubbing his hands into his eyes, his knuckles turning his vision bleary momentarily. “For Beau’s friend.”

“Mmm,” you hum, slightly digging the heel of your palm into his back. Rafe lets out a groan. “There?”

“Right there,” he confirms, letting his head drop back gratefully, accepting a few sleepy kisses once he goes.

You place your other hand on his shoulder for some leverage, leaning over him to peer at his catastrophe of a workstation. “I thought you’d already gone over the sketches with them?”

“I did,” he says. “But they go in tomorrow.”

“Right,” you nod, scrutinizing them again, looking to see if they’d changed at all. “I remember.”

“So I’m just making sure—” Rafe stops momentarily, letting out a hiss. “Careful, baby.”

The pressure on his back eases immediately, and you take to rubbing your hand across the span of his shoulders instead. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I’m just making sure I have everything down,” he continues, leaning forward again. “I wanna know my stuff before I head in.”

“What if I quiz you? On measurements and colors and finishes and—”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he interjects, his smile rivaling yours when you finally settle into his lap like he’d been angling for you to since he heard the garage door open and knew he’d be getting that reprieve from the mess inside his head. “But it doesn’t really work like that, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck anyway, the pads of your fingers rubbing circular motions into his trouble spot again. “Then how else can I get you to come back to bed?”

Guilt settles into Rafe’s stomach like a rock, the soreness in his back momentarily forgotten as he sees the plea in your eyes. “I swear I’ll be up soon.”

“Rafe, it’s late.”

“Coming from you,” he retorts, virtually no bite behind his words. Because as Rafe had left Beau’s company months ago and only since then become more entrenched in his new job, in starting his own business, you’d seamlessly settled in at your job at the publishing house, not overworking yourself nearly as much as the two of you used to argue about. Still more than Rafe would ever prefer, naturally, but he’s not sure he has room to talk anymore.

“We’re turning into perfect little Figure 8 capitalists right on schedule, aren’t we?” you say, wiggling around in his lap in a way he isn’t convinced isn’t a punishment for abandoning his side of the bed a few hours ago.

You lean forward, grabbing one of the pencils Rafe had discarded and tapping it on your chin while he checks his watch, feeling his eyes widen.

“God, I’m turning into my dad.”

“No you’re not,” you laugh, still leaning out of his reach as you seem to start writing something in one the margins. You pause, pointing the pencil at the long-cold cup of coffee next to his pencil cup. “Unless there’s secretly liquor in your decaf over there. You know decaf still has caffeine in it, right?”

At Rafe’s silence, you turn to him with your eyebrows raised, the pencil dropping out of your hand and clattering onto the table.

“Like… trace amounts, right?” he asks sheepishly.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you sigh, running your fingers through the hair on top of Rafe’s head that’s really beginning to need a cut.

“Probably need it,” he shrugs. “I’ll only be up a little while longer though. Promise.”

“You’re really worried about this one, aren’t you?” you ask him softly, some of the mirth fading in your eyes as you trace a finger around the shell of his ear.

“It’s Beau’s friend, baby, I… these guys could have anyone working on their houses. And Beau was really good to me about quitting. I just wanna nail this one and be done with it,” Rafe admits.

He doesn’t tack on the bit about how this feels like one of his first big tests; his first custom, built-in piece period, outside of the ones he’s made for his most forgiving audience, his sisters and you. Because it’s one thing to make a piece for a friend of a friend of a friend, or even to sell one in a store where someone can see it and touch it and decide that they hate it before they have to commit. But it’s another to have someone counting on him to deliver exactly what they envision, let alone someone who could be Rafe’s foot in the door to a wealth of opportunities. He wants to be done with it at this point, sure, but he doesn’t want it to be the end of this road.

“Exactly,” you say, shrugging. “They could have anyone. And I love you, Rafe, but I mean literally anyone else. But your designs are good. Really good. And your craftsmanship is impeccable. They want you.”

He feels his cheeks heating up, and knows it’s showing based on the twinkle in your eye. “You’re an expert in furniture and carpentry now, are you?”

“I am, because I’ve now lived in two Pinterest-level apartments without ever having to hire a contractor. And I’m a picky bitch,” you say, laughing around the last bit.

“You are not,” Rafe laughs. “And half of that is your decorating. Maybe 70, 75%.”

“Your modestly will never not exhaust me,” you declare, smacking one last kiss onto his lips before standing up. “You’re gonna be fine tomorrow, alright? But you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“Ten minutes?” he pleads.

“I will generously give you ten seconds instead. It’s your lucky day,” you say, shuffling toward the doorway back into the house, where two curious dogs await your return.

“Thanks,” he answers sarcastically, before standing to check everything over one last time. These guys could have anyone, he tells himself. They chose him.

He’s gathering his pencils to deposit back into the cup, just about to reach over his head and turn off his work lamp for the night when he sees it, what you’d been scribbling into the margin on one of his designs: you got this RC. hurry home!

At just the same moment that he’s he’s tracing over your loopy “y” and the heart you’d finished your note off with, you call out his name from the doorway, his family waiting for him.

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile, your arms crossed over your chest. “I wasn’t asking.”

#answered #cognacdelights #frankie so very sorry ur being tagged in rafe x reader fic but u asked for it by being my long distance tumblr mutual #new light hcs #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction

[luxaofhesperides]

(yourlocalcorviddad)

Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??

(part one)

Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.

How could they, when they lived states apart? 

The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 

Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.

And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 

The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 

“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 

“One state left, yeah?”

“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”

“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 

This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.

It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.

Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 

“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 

Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 

Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.

“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”

“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”

Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”

“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”

“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”

“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 

There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.

But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 

Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 

That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 

They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.

He likes it here. 

Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 

He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 

Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 

The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 

They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.

“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 

“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”

Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.

He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”

“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”

“Why a pet snake?”

“Just feel like it.”

“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”

“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”

Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”

The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 

It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 

For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 

At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 

He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 

“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  

“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”

“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”

There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 

Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 

He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.

“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”

“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”

“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.

“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.

He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 

Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.

He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #part one is dukes pov of him crushing on danny and looking forward to a fun summer #and this part is dannys pov where hes like i LOVE him im planning to MARRY him!!! #hes whipped is what im saying #they do know abt each others powers and all but thats not relevant rn lol. the hero ids are still secret but not for long >:) #as in theyre just gonna be like 'oh shit you too?' and roll w it #kings of going w the flow #anyways!! i like to think that duke will go to umass amherst and danny to the institute he named in this fic #so they live a state away from each other and danny flies over to duke every weekend #their college friends are all lowkey jealous of how good their long distance rship is. everyone wants what they have!!! #thanks for the prompt!! #this is the last one for this batch of ghostlights prompts!!! cant believe i managed to write all of them :)

[wttcsms]

you're the first person atsumu wants to tell any sort of news to, so when he's being interviewed live and his msby coach breaks out the news that he's been selected to be on the olympic team to represent japan, the interviewer asks atsumu "how are you feeling right now?" into which he holds up a finger, tells them to hold on, and he's immediately dialing your number, shouting into the speaker "baby, i'm going to the olympics!!!"

#atsumu in a long distance relationship mini fic series WHEN

[growup-thatbeautiful]

Can I get asking gym crush!Dave Lizewski to spot you and needing his help. I think that could spark a beautiful romance

a:n: yes of course!! if anyone wants more of this idea definitely give me any thoughts. college aged dave :)

It's embarrassing. You don't even know his name, and you've never once talked to him. Sometimes he comes in with his friends- two of them- but you haven't caught any information about him besides his frankly impressive workout routine. And it's not like you see him a lot; he comes here way less than you. Yet somehow he seems to be stronger than most other regulars at the gym.

It’s probably for the best that you don’t see him a lot, though. Because when he is there, you find it hard to focus on anything except for him. Everywhere you look he seems to be there in the corner of your eye or in the glimpse of the mirrored wall.

It's unfair, really. No one should be able to look that good while covered in sweat, his curls sticking up in every direction and matted to the back of his neck. The compression shirt that he's wearing is dark with sweat, but his expression doesn't look fazed at all.

Today, though, you're determined for it to be different. You have a few more reps you want to do at the machine, then your plan is to go to the bar and do squats. Then you have your usual cool-down mile and stretching routine. Distractions don't fit into your schedule, especially because you’re already bone-tired today.

You do the last rep, timing your breath in and out to your movement. There's a pleasant, constant tiredness in your legs that you’ve come to love, and the music blasting in your ears pushes you towards your next exercise.

Luckily, the bar is open and you’re able to start your set right away. Maybe it's because you're still a little bit sore from your last leg day, or maybe you're just not feeling it today, but it feels harder than usual. By the third set, your legs are shaking much more than usual and you’re having trouble getting through the reps.

It’s definitely not your smartest decision ever to keep going, but you really don’t to stop early. Some part of you thinks that you can just push through and make it; the reasonable part of you is saying that you’re going to need someone to spot you.

Looking around, you don’t see anyone you know- no friends or friends of a friend. It’s relatively empty for the time of day, but you need to ask someone to spot you.

And in the opposite corner of the gym, there he is. He’s not doing any reps, and from the way he’s checking his phone you don’t think that he’s in the middle of any.

You try to tell yourself that everyone else is busy and he’s the only option, but you know it’s not true. Even if he was busy, you would wait for him to finish and ask him anyways. There’s no telling when you’re going to have another opportunity like this to talk to him- at least you have an excuse to go up to him.

If your legs weren’t already shaking, they are as you walk over towards him. It’s a sin, for him to look at good as he does without really doing anything at all. Your own music blasting through one of your dangling earbuds isn’t enough to calm your nerves. He’s wearing headphones too, so he can’t hear you coming, and he seems immersed in whatever he’s doing, so you stand there awkwardly while he finishes. When he looks up at you, a smile makes its way across his face, and he holds out his hand for you to shake it, not caring about the obvious sweat.

You tell him your name and shake him hand, your stomach doing flips the whole time.

He, in turn, introduces himself. “I’m Dave. Do you need something?” He says it with a pleasant tone, but he must think that he’s been rude because he backtracks immediately. “Shit, that sounded rude, sorry. I just- people don’t usually come up to me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a laugh. “I actually wanted to ask you if you could spot me. I only have a few sets left.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He looks genuinely excited at your request, and he dutifully follows you to your rack.

You take a deep breath and look at the weights waiting for you. The soreness in your body seems worse now that he’s there standing behind you, his hands clasped behind his back. When you take another breath, it sounds a lot like a sigh. You’re thrilled that he’s willing to help you, but you don’t want him to think you’re weak.

“Hey, you got this,” he says lowly. “I’ve seen you do this a million times before, it’s just another rep, yeah?”

You don’t have the brainpower to think about him saying he’s seen you do this before because all of your thoughts go to his hand on your back, gently urging your forward towards the bar. He doesn’t say anything more, but the message is received.

You step underneath the bar and stand up straight, the bar’s weight settling into your shoulders. You can’t see Dave behind you, but you can feel the heat of his hands underneath your arms as he supports you.

You breathe in. Go down.

Breathe out. Push yourself up.

Do it again. And again 8 more times before stepping forward to rerack the weights.

When you turn around, Dave is looking up at the ceiling, his hands straight down at his sides. You fix your hair and pause your music before taking a sip of water.

“Dave?” you ask. “You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was checking you out,” he explains while he brings his eyes to yours. “M’not gonna be that guy.”

“I appreciate it,” you respond, your heart warming at the sentiment. “Really, I do. But I wouldn’t mind you looking.” It’s not exactly the most subtle hint you’ve ever given a guy, but something tells you that subtle isn’t the right approach with Dave.

“What?” He really looks clueless as to what you’re talking about, his head tilted to the side. Your brain helpfully supplies you with “puppy dog.”

Too subtle, then. “Do you want to get coffee after this?” You’re positive that your smile is uncertain and crooked.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yes, you,” you laugh. “Look, I know you don’t know me, but I’d like to get to know you.”

“I’d like that, too.” The grin on his face is wide and full, bringing light and laugh lines to his eyes. You haven’t seen this smile from him yet, which is probably a good thing because it has a dangerous effect on you. “You have another set left,” he informs you. “So why don’t we finish that up and go get coffee after?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, stepping back underneath the bar, a renewed vigor in your legs. That vigor, of course, goes away when you actually start the last set.

You do the first five without an issue, but you start struggling more with the sixth. By the eighth rep, you’re face is twisted with effort and you can barely get back up.

Dave doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s there. And his presence is fully reassured to you when he mutters close to your ear, “Come on, just a few more. I’m right here.”

He has to help you with the last rep, his arms supporting you underneath your armpits as he takes some of the weight off and helps you get back the the rack. It forces him much closer to you than before, and you can feel his heart racing against your back. You know yours is beating just as fast.

“Thank you,” you tell him, a little bit out of breath still. “You’re a live-saver.”

A funny look comes across his face at that, but it clears away in a blink. “Anytime.”

“How about that coffee?” you ask, grabbing your keys and water before shooting a quick text to your friends so they know where you’re going. Then, holding out your hand, you say, “It’s the least I can do.”

He takes your hand in between his own, leading you towards his own pile of things. “I know a good place around here.”

“Lead the way,” you tell him.

Maybe asking for his help wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#i promise i go to the gym guys in case it sounds like i dont know what im talking about #i just dont know the lingo #gym crush dave #im also more of a long distance gal or at least im trying to be #dave lizewski #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski fic #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski fanfic #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #kick ass fanfic #kick ass fic #atj x reader #atj fic #atj #nova writes

[arminsumi]

i wrote a future chapter idea for i want to kiss you and it accidentally got angsty but in a kinda sweet way??

satoru and suguru missing you after you return home :(

#u know how long distance can be #i will try not include much angst in this fic lol #and it will be resolved 👍

[profoundbondfanfic]

of all the coffee joints in all the towns in all the world

of all the coffee joints in all the towns in all the world by wincechesters Rating: Mature Word Count: 11k

They meet in a coffee shop, though not exactly the way you’d expect. In fact, nothing about Dean Winchester is what Castiel expects, especially when he claims to hunt the supernatural. In spite of Dean’s outrageous claims and Castiel’s firm belief that he is either lying, insane, or in a constant state of intoxication, they wind up in a somewhat unorthodox relationship, and Castiel finds himself being forcefully thrown into a world of demons and vampires and all manner of things that go bump in the night.

This fic poses the question: what would YOU do if you were a down-on-your-luck writer whose only goal is to scrape together enough money working at a coffee shop to make rent, and all you wanted to do was close up the shop so that you could go home, and then you were borderline held hostage by an attractive man who insists on putting salt in front of the doors and windows? If you don't have an answer to that question, well, you're not alone at least. But if your answer was "make conversation with him and offer him some coffee", then you're thinking along the same lines as Castiel.

Dean is a hunter on the run when he meets Cas, and though Dean insists that the supernatural world is real, Cas doesn't believe him. That doesn't keep him from starting an unconventional relationship with Dean through texts and phone calls. Over the next few weeks, Dean and Cas become closer, and when Dean swings back near town again, he and Cas make plans to meet. And that's when things become complicated.

I'm always a sucker for a fic where hunter!Dean maintains a correspondence with civilian!Cas via texts and calls. There's something wonderful about two people falling in love over a distance, and I'm always excited to see it in a fic. 💖

#destiel #fic rec #mature #10k to 30k #au #coffee shop #barista!castiel #hunter!dean #writer!castiel #bottom!castiel #meet cute #long distance #of all the coffee joints in all the towns in all the world #author: wincechesters

[hoodie-buck]

army!eddie/babysitter/buck au has arrived y’all!! this is my baby, my absolute pride and joy, and i’m so happy to finally share with y’all 🥹 hope you enjoy <33

rated: e | chapter 1/10 | words: 5.7k | read on ao3

summary:

“Does this story have a point?” Eddie questioned, Lena narrowing her eyes at him; it would’ve felt threatening had he not known she was more bark than bite.

“This guy, my sort of friend—what if he could watch Chris for you?”

Eddie furrowed his brows together. “You want me to leave my kid who’s halfway across the country with some—stranger?” Was she out of her damn mind?

“It beats having him sent home to your parents, right?”

Well, she had a point there.

Eddie shook his head, overwhelmed with his thoughts.

“Look, I appreciate it Bosko, but I just—I don’t know. This is my kid we’re talking about.”

“I know that, and I know how much you love him. Hell, you’ve sent me ten plus emails when I was watching him for you.”

Eddie looked to where there was a line coming out of the office, his other teammates no doubt having several emergency questions of their own. He turned to Lena, giving his full attention.

“Alright, tell me about this friend of yours.”

—or—

The one where Eddie’s in the army, Shannon gives up her rights to Chris, and Eddie needs a babysitter. Good thing Lena knows Buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until Eddie gets back. Eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything.

**if you wanna be tagged in chapter updates lmk, otherwise i’ll just tag everyone again once it’s finished posting <33**

tagging squad below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

tags: @heartbeatdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @confetti-cupcake @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @swiftiebuckleyhan @loveyourownsmiilee @justsmilestuffhappens @dorkydiaz @honestlydarkprincess @zainclaw @eddiescowboy @djdangerlove @bifirefighters @mr-and-mr-diaz @buddierights @crazyfangirlallert @monsterrae1 @wh0re-behavi0r @panicatthediaz @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @buckaroo118 @angelwiththeblue-box @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @alyxmastershipper @buddiearemydads

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #christopher diaz #lena bosko #911 fox #army!eddie/babysitter!buck au #multi chap #heavy angst #angst with a happy ending #tenderness #slow burn #literal sleeping together #long distance relationship #idiots in love #kel(s) writing

[sunflouwerhabit]

And Now I Date Cate’s Brother

sunflouwerhabit | AO3 | 46K, Complete.

“But what if you had a real relationship! What if you entered your Victorius era and wrote a banger about banging your best friend’s brother!”

Louis blinked. Either his mind was working at half-speed or Niall was being especially stupid tonight. “I never banged my best friend’s brother.”

“I know that and you know that. But we don’t always have to tell the truth when we write songs.”

“You want me to write fanfiction about me and my high school crush?” Louis asked. The words were slow to form. “Like… actually?”

“Why not?”

Why not? Why not?!?!

Because the idea was ridiculous, Louis wanted to say. Because he hadn’t seen Harry Styles in person in four years. Because Harry Styles was a stupid childhood crush- a popular, kind, stunning boy secretly adored by a quiet musician who felt every emotion so intensely he had to write them all down or they would suffocate him- and the two never shared much more beyond a game of cup pong and drunken conversations at a Halloween party a million years ago.

Because…

~~~

A drunken writing session ends with a song detailing the fictitious summer romance between Louis and his former friend’s twin brother.

It accidentally goes viral.

~~~

my newest baby! a new fic! featuring pop punk louis, veterinary harry, a healthy dose of found family, and an unlikely, transformative love 💜💜💜

#ao3 #larry fanfiction #fanfic #MY NEW FIC #pop punk louis #mutual pining #long distance relationship #strangers to lovers #manifestations #fluff and humor #MINIMAL ANGST #i love maisie peters #cate’s brother

[wangxianficrecs]

A Promise in Ink by Witch_Nova221

A Promise in Ink

by Witch_Nova221 (@witchnova221)

G, 1k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Zhan is given a pen pal in school. For ten years, they write to one another, sharing their lives but never seeing each others' faces until, one day, Wei Ying comes home. Kay's comments: Really loved this idea of Wangxian being pen pals and Wei Wuxian traveling across the world as a diplomat's son. Very sweet and soft story, no angst at all. Excerpt: 'Wei Ying?' he said, the sound of his name coming out a little strange and he cursed that all the poise he had hoped to greet his friend with chose that moment to flee him at the sight of a face far more handsome than he had ever dared imagine it. 'It's me,' said Wei Ying, 'And you're you and I'm finally getting to meet you. Lan Zhan, can I hug you? I've wanted to hug you for years.' Lan Zhan didn't get a chance to answer as strong, warm arms came around him, hugging him tightly. Their friendship had been nothing but words, pages and pages of stories and feelings, but, in that moment, no words were needed. Lan Zhan didn't care how many people looked on as he stood embracing his friend, if anyone thought it strange just how long they stood still and silent, breathing in the reality of one another. All he cared about was that Wei Ying was real, solid and warm in his arms, years of ink made into a man who was everything Lan Zhan hoped he would be.

pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern no powers, getting together, first meetings, friends to lovers, pen pals, childhood friends, short & sweet, long-distance friendship, fluff, no angst

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#May 2024 #Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #Wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #Gen #short fic <15k #Witch_Nova221 #A Promise in Ink #pov lan wangji #modern setting #modern no powers #getting together #first meetings #friends to lovers #pen pals #childhood friends #short & sweet #long-distance friendship #fluff #no angst

[aftgficrec]

trashypotpiebitchybitch said: "High or Low Tide" by Stjosten on Ao3

My all-time favorite fic. Featuring minor long distance relationship (Neil's finishing his senior year at Columbia, Andrew starting his freshman year at palmetto). Very fluffy. Very sweet. Is a one shot though. As well as clingy Andrew.

We love Stjosten’s fics! They have featured quite frequently in our recs, and we’re very happy to shine a spotlight on this one. -S

High or Low Tide by Stjosten [Rated G, 5331 words, complete, 2020]

Andrew is off at college and Neil is back in Columbia finishing his senior year of high school. It’s fine. Nothing bad is going to happen in the short time apart. Neil is an idiot but he has survived alone for a long time before he met Andrew. It is going to be fine. Atleast, that’s what he keeps telling himself and for some reason it feels like lying.

tw: implied/referenced kidnapping

#rec #reader submission #fic #neil josten/andrew minyard #universe: canon divergent #au: college/university #theme: fluff #theme: established relationship #theme: long distance #theme: pining #theme: domesticity #theme: protectiveness #tw: implied/referenced kidnapping #trashypotpiebitchybitch

[snugglylime]

Long-Distance Yasammy HCs

Just some post-canon long-distance relationship HCs for Yasammy for y'all during the count down to Chaos Theory <3

Yaz struggles HARD with the long distance. She trusts Sammy with every fiber of her being, but every once in a while, she worries that Sammy will move on since they don't see each other much.

Conversely, Sammy worries that Yaz will get so caught up in track that she'll eventually get tired of keeping up with the relationship.

They video call a LOT, especially when they're doing homework, relaxing, or just when they need to hear each other's voices (which is often)

They also host virtual watch parties so they, and the rest of the Nublar Six if their schedules line up, can watch movies and chat together.

After the semi-isolation of being on Isla Nublar for so long, Yaz starts to get overstimulated at school and when she's in big groups. Whenever she does (and can't calm down on her own), she calls Sammy, who always manages to make her feel better.

Yaz sends Sammy postcards every time she goes on a trip for a track competition. Sammy creates a scrapbook with them.

After Yaz expresses how much she misses her, Sammy mails her one of her hoodies. Even though it's a bit big on her, Yaz starts wearing it to school and to track meets whenever she can. She also likes snuggling up with it in her downtime.

For holidays and just whenever they want, they send each other gifts through the mail. Sammy prefers things like stuffed animals and cute keychains, while Yaz prefers more practical things like sketchbooks and art supplies. Though Sammy does send her some cute things too, which she's secretly obsessed with because they remind her of Sammy.

They have a mutual understanding that they won't call each other past a certain time unless it's an emergency (like a nightmare). When this does happen, the other is more than willing to wake up and talk for a bit.

Yaz doesn't officially celebrate most holidays, so when she gets the chance, she flies to Texas to celebrate them with Sammy and her family.

Whenever she can't visit, Sammy puts her on a video call so that Yaz can feel like she's part of the festivities. This is always the best during Christmas since Sammy's family also sends Yaz gifts and gets to watch her open them.

They initially plan for Yaz to fly to Texas for her birthday, but it falls through because of an important upcoming track meet. Yaz is devastated by the whole thing, so her mom secretly pays for Sammy to visit them for the week.

Yaz is over the moon about the surprise. She's also excited that Sammy will finally get to attend one of her track competitions (naturally, Sammy cheers for her super loudly the whole time)

At some point, Sammy gets sick and goes radio-silent for a while. Yaz FREAKS out and nearly runs out the door to try and hitch-hike to Texas before her mom stops her. Eventually, Sammy responds and tells her what happened, and Yaz starts checking in on her more regularly until she gets better.

Because of how much time they spend apart, they always get shy when they're together again. But once they get comfortable, they're just as touchy and cutesy as ever.

And they're both pretty bad at kissing :p lack of practice and all that.

Sammy likes reading bedtime stories to Yaz over the phone. It helps calm them both down if they're feeling particularly anxious (since sleeping on the Island was always dangerous and that anxiety sticks with them)

When Yaz visits the ranch, she's AWFUL with the animals. Sammy just finds her fumbling and struggling adorable, even if she teases her about it.

Sammy cries out of joy when Yaz reveals her plans to attend college in Texas :)

#miiiiight write a post-canon long-distance Yasammy fic if finals don't kill me :') #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwcc #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #yasammy #jwcc headcanons

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

More in the AU where Elrond and Elros are 16 years old rather than 6 when Sirion is sacked. Tag is "older kidnap fam fic" for previous installments

Elrond wakes up draped over the rump of a horse.

Not, to be clear, his own warhorse. His faithful stallion is being ridden by one of the few remaining warriors of the Gap, the great cavalry of the Noldor, who will be able to keep her seat regardless of what the horse tries.

Elrond isn't initially sure who is riding the horse that he's been set over like a sack of baggage. His arms are stretched out past his head, tied wrists dangling toward the ground, and his ankles are tied as well, tighter than the hobble that he had while walking. He can't see anything but horse flank.

Elrond wriggles around to try and get a better view, and someone notices.

"Lord Maedhros, it seems your guest is awake."

Maedhros pushes down the middle of Elrond's lower back to pin him more surely to the horse. "Lie still. If you fall off while riding in formation you're liable to get stepped on by the next horse, even if the rider wished to avoid you."

"I know how to ride properly."

"Yes, I saw that you were quite skilled when you killed my soldiers, which is why you're staying right there."

"Could I at least sit upright, even if I have to ride behind someone else like an infant?"

"Maybe tomorrow, if you give your word not to escape."

"I'm not stupid enough to try and bargain with you again, after you broke your word about setting us free from the cellar."

"I never said I'd set you free, I said I'd leave the city and wouldn't kill you. Sirion crumbled in the first assault, but I did no more damage after taking you and your brother into custody. If they're smart enough to repair the castle first, everyone should be able to keep warm this winter."

"And if they focus instead on burying their dead, or rebuilding their houses, or rescuing their kidnapped princes?"

"Who knows? But I'm not king of even the Noldor anymore, and the people of Sirion are not my responsibility."

"You would just let them die?" Elrond wanted to glare at the Feanorian, and nearly slipped backwards off the horse as he tried to sit up.

Maedhros caught Elrond deftly by the bound wrists and pulled him back into place. "Next time you do that, I'll let you fall"

"So you don't actually intend to even spare my life."

"I agreed to spare you, not to save you . None here will harm you, but I won't rescue you from consequences of childish stupidity, no more than I will rescue Sirion from winter. If you would rather bash your head open rather than remain my captive, I am not so cruel as to deny you that escape."

Elrond had nothing to say to that topic, as his first retort about more palatable escapes seemed likely just to enrage his captor, as did any question about cutting off hands. "Where's Elros? Was he at least left back in Sirion?" Elrond wanted his brother to be safe, and his people to have a leader with his mother drowned. But he, selfishly, also did to want to be alone with the kinslayers.

"He's here as well, don't worry. Nornmalo has him, and I trust him not to torture a prisoner, despite what it may sound like."

"The moans of pain might be a headache, he drank rather a lot of beer while we were trapped."

Maedhros laughed. "Well, a hungover child soldier. He will at least bother Nornmalo less with questions."

"Could I give him something to soothe the headache? I know a bit of healing."

"No. A headache won't kill him, and he'll get water when we stop same as you."

They stopped only once that day, to water the horses at a stream. Elros was pulled down from the saddle - feet first, luckily, though he still landed in a heap - and his hands untied. Maedhros tossed him a canteen, and said "if you need to piss, now's the best time. You won't get piss all over the horse or your clothes, and we're downstream of the rest of the company."

"My legs are still tied."

"The ropes low enough you should be able to unfasten your belt."

"Are you going to watch me the whole time?"

"Until I find another guard, yes."

Elrond drinks little enough water to avoid the issue, for the moment.

When it's time to ride again, Elrond puts up a fight about having his arms tied again. That just gets Maedhros pinning his face in the dirt while a soldier ties the rope.

Elrond is slung back on the horse like a parcel.

They stop again just before sunset to make camp.

Elrond's hands are untied again for dinner.

The food is simple, waybread and water, and Elrond wonders if he should mention that Men need to eat more than once a day.

Far more exciting than the food though is the figure dropped on the grass next to him, clutching his own canteen and waybread.

"Elros!"

"Elrond! By Ulmo, you're alright!"

"I am, just a bit bruised from the horse. You?"

"Here's something for your healer's notes: do not put people with hangovers upside down for hours. I must have thrown up a dozen times."

"That's terrible! Maybe we can ask-"

At that point the guard tells them to hurry up, they'll be taken to where they're sleeping in ten minutes regardless of how much dinner they've had. Elrond and Elros focus on eating.

They are not, apparently, going to be sleeping near each other. "Too much chance to plot."

The Feanorian soldiers have tents. Some of them share, some of them have their own. A few soldiers have tents obviously designed for two or three that they go into alone.

The horses stolen from Sirion are tied to a picket line. It's loped through the reins, but one person untying the end would let all the horses scatter.

The horses the Feanorians rode into town on are not tied at all. They are loyal old warhorses, and will not flee from orcs in the distance. If wolves do sneak past the guards into the camp, better for the horses to run, and come back at their masters' call when the danger is passed.

Elrond, by contrast, is tied to a tree trunk. His hands are tied in front of him rather than behind, and his legs are unbound. Maedhros's brother - and Elrond learned from a careless remark that their is only the one left - even tossed a blanket over Elrond's legs, to guard against the chill of the night air.

It is the most freedom of movement Elrond has had all day, but that's saying little.

He is stuck sitting up, feeling every root and rock underneath him, unable to reach his hands back to where the rope is tied behind the tree.

Elrond sleeps poorly, stirring at every noise, whether it's a guard on their rounds or an owl hooting its warning.

In the morning, Elrond is given a breakfast of water and waybread again.

Maedhros says "You know it would be suicidal to flee, alone in the wilderness, yes?" and lets Elrond ride behind him sitting up.

Elrond's hands are still bound, and a rope leads passed Maedhros to the saddle horn. If he fell off, he better hope he can keep pace with a cantering horse, or else be dragged on the ground.

Elrond stays on the horse. He figures out his balance well enough to turn, and sees Elros riding similarly.

Thing continue like this for over a week, until they reach Amon Ereb.

#older kidnap fam fic #my fic #silm #silmarillion #Nornmalo means oak friend #he was originally one of Curufin's followers I think; he is more used to defending a fortress than riding long distances #but all the best riders in the Feanorian host were either a) in the Gap during the Bragollach and so a lot of them died in fire #or b) on the riverlands of Ossirand under Amras and so extremely pissed off at Elrond and Elros now #Maedhros trusts /most/ of his soldiers not to torture or kill prisoners against his orders; but he does recall Doriath and Elured and Eluri #better to put the annoying enemy teenagers with someone who is grieving a bit less and so is less likely to strike them in anger #Maedhros is confident in his own self control in the field; he has scheduled to break down in tears three hours after they reach Amon Ereb #in the meantime he ignores all his emotions and doesn't attempt introspection