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c0mbatchameleon · 1 month

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@jegulus-microfic April 21st, prompt: run, words: 1160, nsfw

aka regulus comes until he cries? that’s basically it yeah (+t4t jeg)

He shouldn’t cry.

It’s what Regulus has heard since—well, as early as he can remember. Crying is a vulnerability he can’t afford, a sign of weakness, and the Black family are anything but weak. Don’t be a baby, they’d say—to the literal fucking baby.

The last time Regulus cried was when he was 7 years old, he thinks—his mother certainly made sure he never did it again. And even long after he left that house behind, left his family and everything they stand for, found a new family, found a new home and new self unrestrained by hatred and abuse, transitioned, finally became comfortable with himself, his identity—after all of it, this is what he’s held onto. The belief that he shouldnt cry.

At least, it was what he held onto.

Now, as Regulus finds himself bent over the kitchen counter, nails dragging down the cool granite that he’s pressed flush against, he’s beginning to think crying isn’t so bad after all.

The tears started falling after his second consecutive orgasm, streaming freely down his face as he convulsed around James’ strap. James only slowed his thrusts to something deep and drawn out as he leaned forward and cooed, “That’s it baby, let it out,” hot breath cascading down Regulus’s ear and neck, hand stroking his hair gently. Languid kisses pressed down his neck and shoulder as he twitched and softly gasped in overstimulation.

He barely got a chance to catch his breath before—

“How ‘bout one more for me, yeah?” And just like that, James was drawing out and ramming back into him with a brutal pace. Regulus let out a choked gasp as his vision whited out, back arching, legs shaking. All he could respond was a tear-streaked string of oh fuck oh fuck oh fu—ah—please as James continued chanting soft praise and encouragement, railing him into a new fucking plane of existence.

That leaves him here, hurtling head first towards a third orgasm and choking on intermittent sobs and moans in rhythm with James’ thrusts. Each one is hitting that spot that sends a line of white-hot electricity up his navel, fraying his nerves until his entire body feels like an exposed wire. His hands grab for purchase on the countertop, unsuccessfully, as he tries to drag himself up, away, anywhere to put distance between himself and the onslaught of pleasure-pain that’s spreading like a fire across his whole body.

But James only digs his hand into Regulus’ curls and pulls, the other wrapped around the front of him so Regulus’ cock grinds into it with each movement of their hips. “Where are you trying to run off to, love?” he teases as his grip tightens and holds Regulus in place.

“Oh fuck— I can’t—“ Regulus’ own moan cuts him off, loud and lacking shame. “S’too much,” he whines.

“But you love it, don’t you?” Soft lips trace up behind his ear. “You don’t want me to stop, love, do you?” Regulus’ eyes roll back into his head. The hand presses down further on his cock and another sob escapes him. “C’mon, tell me how much you love it when I take you apart like this,” James coaxes, pulling him up further by his hair so that he has to balance on his forearms, his head falling back.

And, here, in this state of over-saturated, pure white static bliss where Regulus can barely distinguish reality, the world around him, anything other than James’ hands and James’ lips and James’ sweet-honey voice and James and James and James, the only thought he can form amidst the haze is the one James has supplied for him so graciously, so giving as always: that he loves it.

You love it, don’t you?

And Regulus does.

He loves having his walls taken down, brick by brick until he’s bare, surrendered to pleasure and to release. God, he fucking loves this release. The kind he never allowed himself before, the way it washes over his whole body and builds up like a dam, the way it flows in and out of him, completely open, running rivers down his face and sending shocks out from his core, chest heaving, bones melting, transcending his own body and yet more grounded in it than he’s ever been. He’s nothing but skin and shaking muscle and neuron and nerve ending and pure, unfiltered feeling, and, yes, he loves it. So, he does what he’s told and voices it, let’s it flow out of him like the rest of the dam, frantic and breathless.

“I love it, I—ah—oh—I love it, I love it I love it I—fuck—“

“That’s good, that’s right, fuck, you’re doing so well, baby. You look so pretty when you cry like this” James praises, breathless now, tone soaked in awe and pure adoration as he watches Regulus repeat the phrase like a mantra, an oath, a prayer, the words melting together to the point of near incoherence: I love it I love it Iloveitloveitloveitloveloveitloveit.

“That’s it, I know, baby,” he tugs on Regulus’ curls again, pulling him up against his chest. The new angle makes his cock drive deeper into Regulus, drawing a strangled moan out between his quick, gasping breaths. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

His fingers move in quick circles on Regulus’ cock, other arm wrapping around his shoulders to hold him up. “C’mon, let go for me one more time, Star.”

The simple order is all it takes. When Regulus comes, it’s with stars behind his eyes and tears flowing freely and a scream tearing through him, head hanging back on James’ shoulder, back bowed, clenching down on silicone as shudders rack through his body in waves. James works him through it with a slew of there you go and so good for me and so perfect and show me how good it feels, baby, that’s it.

He collapses back onto James, boneless, and breathes. Shakily. James squeezes him tight. All that concentrated flame has simmered and spread out into something soft and warm and buzzing all throughout his body. A small whimper escapes at the feeling of James pulling out, his core still throbbing around nothing.

James scoops him up easily, laying him down gently on the couch in the next room, and kneels down to cradle his face with his hands.

“Okay?” he asks softly, kissing Regulus’ forehead.

Regulus keeps his eyes closed and smiles in delirious dream-state bliss, just barely aware that he’s still sniffling. “Love it,” he mumbles, and James snorts as his thumbs swipe back and forth under his eyes. His head is still cloudy, his body floating somewhere with it. “Love you,” he adds dazedly.

“Always so sweet after you come,” James remarks. “Think if I get you to five next time you’d propose to me after?”

If Regulus had the energy, he’d roll his eyes. Instead, he reaches out and runs his hand through James’ hair, down the back of his neck, along the scars on his chest, down his arm where he grabs his hand and pulls it into his own chest, body curling around it like he’s hoarding it. James doesn’t seem to mind. “We’re already married, James,” Regulus mumbles. “I literally proposed.”

James chuckles softly, fondly. “I love you, too, Star.”

#microfic brought to u by lana del rey #nails in the kitchen et al #anyways I don’t actually know how I feel abt this but here we are #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders #the marauders #jegulus microfic #writing stuff and things #microfic tag #jegulus fic

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quibbs126 · 5 months

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Random au idea I came up with after waking up that someone’s probably already done: Dark Choco is the one that gets summoned by the Cookie Cutter instead of Chili Pepper, and he sees this group of children all by themselves and is like “okay I can’t leave these kids all by themselves, I need to at least watch them” and just basically adopts them or something, becomes their guardian. And throughout this journey he goes through a slow burn redemption arc that no one else is really privy to since he doesn’t want to tell them (but they’re mostly chill with him afterwards since he’s been a good guy around them since they met him)

I don’t know, it just came to me. Don’t know how good it is

Dark Choco is like the only character on my mind I swear, I have to put him into everything even if it’s unnecessary

#I mean maybe Chili Pepper can be there too #I just don’t know how to work Dark Choco into the beginning plot then #and also you just have to ignore that Licorice and his minions would also meet the Gingerbrave gang here #and would recognize Dark Choco so his secret of having been in the CoD would be found out immediately #but shh #maybe it could be a fic or something #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #dark choco cookie #gingerbrave #strawberry cookie #wizard cookie #custard cookie iii #I would have just tagged “Gingerbrave gang” but I don’t think that’s a tag #so #au idea #random stuff

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clover-46 · 1 year

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the writers on here making the miguel fics need to remember his fangs inject paralytic venom hes not a real vampire it was just a joke in the movie 😭

oh but i still want him to bite me don’t get me wrong idgaf if they have venom 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

#the copious amounts of smut i’ve seen with this man and the fangs is crazy #y’all need to tone it DOWN wheres the fluff omg??#there’s like so many smut x reader fics clogging the miguel o’hara tag and people can express their creative liberties or whatever but it’s #getting CRAZY #like why is almost nobody talking about his character and writing an analysis on him #AND WHY ARE SO MANY FICS WRITING HIM TO BE SOME FERAL AND MEAN BEAST #firstly it’s feels racist to write a brown latino man that way.#second it feels fetishiz-y with how people only sexualize the fuck outta him and talk about nothing else when it comes to him #to add onto that people are drawing him with a MUZZLE on #at first all this didn’t really register in my head as bad but after seeing so much i see it 😭#also some spanish speakers have said people are using incorrect spanish when writing dialogue for him and thats kinda funny #don’t use google translate please 💀#miguel o’ hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #i also saw someone say miguel would not be a good partner or something and i just know you didn’t pay attention #and i wont go into why because its spoilers but we have seen him be soft and happy with someone he cares about it’s just trauma that has #made him mean and depressed #he was obviously projecting onto miles in the movie when he acted like that let’s be fr #why am i writing a novel down here idk i just wanted to talk about it a little #i love the smut (trust me) but pleaaseee don’t start being fetishize-y

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daffi-990 · 6 months

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Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by the über talented @wikiangela and @lover-of-mine 💕

Have more than seven sentences from the scene that was fighting me and causing grief from stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong aka rival firefighters 🚒 prev snippet

“What is up with you today?” Buck licks his lips as he shifts on his feet slightly, waiting for Diaz’s answer.

“Excuse me?” Diaz looks taken aback and okay Buck gets it, the guy who constantly flirts and teases you is suddenly asking you a legitimate question of concern? Buck would be shocked too.

“Something’s obviously crawled up your ass today, so spill.” Diaz pushes past Buck without responding, Buck hot on his tail with no brain to mouth filter working it seems because he can’t stop himself from adding “Is it me? Though if I’d been in your ass, I’d definitely remember it.”

Diaz whirls on Buck with fire in his eyes. He looks pissed and fuck is it hot. “Do you even hear yourself when you talk?!” He steps into Buck’s space, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

Buck brings his hands up to push Eddie away but before he can make contact Eddie jolts back as if repulsed by Buck's touch. “What is your problem, man?”

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @watchyourbuck @callmenewbie @fortheloveofbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @exhuastedpigeon @the-likesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @evcndiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @jamespearce9-1-1 @clusterbuck @captain-hen @bekkachaos @monsterrae1 @mellaithwen and all others who want join in on the fun 😄

#again big thanks to Wolf for your help 😘#fic: stuck now so long we just got the start wrong #rival firefighters fic #daffi writes #buddie wip #buddie #I’m going away for a week long holiday tomorrow 😍🙌🏻#don’t know how active I’ll be on here but PLEASE keep tagging me in everything!#I want to read all your snippets and fic (if you post any)

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steelycunt · 1 year

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an um. snippet. from me. for the first time since. july :-)

#from a fic you likely will not see for at least. two months. but still <3 #reallt brave of me to snippet considering ive still got no plan from one scene to the next and have only written um. four scenes but. well #if you all bear witness to evidence of the wips existence then maybe it will help me commit to finishing it. :-)#this is also. this snippet is from the very first scene and it is not my favourite but the snippet i WANTED to share is simply too long so.#sorry about that. :-/ also im just talking now you don’t need to read these tags but it is so lovely being in remus’ head now im so used to #it it used to be so unnerving…but i live here now i love it…im also in a bit of a #loving sirius era atm so actually im enjoying writing about how pretty he is. (<- me after being visisted by three spirits on Christmas Eve)#special shout-out to hope lupin. kicking things off immediately with her funeral she is so killable and i really appreciate it.#tsahonip feels like a silly acronym so i think we’re sticking to shortening it to.#tsah #snippet #my fic #r/s #anyway. if it goes the way i want it to the whole fic is very. london and dreary flats and bars and mugs of tea and resentment + melancholy #you know. because ive never done that before have i. also the discography of the smiths so prepare for that on the playlist soz :-(

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autistic-katara · 2 months

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there r fics that make u insane (so amazingly good it’s removed ur sanity) and then there’s fics that make u insane (you need to fistfight the author for how they did a specific thing that caused u to rant for hours)

#i know i just posted that other thing but ffs that is NOT how u handle someone in that situation everyone involved made everything 10x worse #yet it’s being treated like the right thing to do (which again ofc they’re cops they don’t understand harm reduction but still) like #seriously everything’s so forceful like u seriously think forcing ur friend to talk to u or forcing a patient to talk to a therapist under #the threat of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital is gonna make her feel comfortable talking to u? or anyone? she’s just gonna trust u #less and get better at hiding it and speaking of which the taking away all sharp objects thing makes sense in theory but like think abt it #for a minute she confirmed she isn’t suicidal and this is her only way of coping so do not just forcibly take away all her coping mechanism #like yes she is hurting herself but it’s a COPING MECHANISM. she’s coping with something. help her with that don’t just take away her penci #sharpers or whatever (which btw since she’s an adult she could easily buy more stuff and yk learn to hide it better) which again has to be #voluntary it isn’t gonna work if u force someone to do smthn they don’t want to like as ur friend u could’ve made it clear u care abt her #and wouldn’t judge her for anything and r here if she wants to talk don’t just say “you have to talk to me” and casually threaten #hospitalisation when she isn’t ready in the moment like seriously if this wasn’t a badly written fanfic she would completely stop trusting #bcz given that this wasn’t even done out of panic i would like ffs u are NOT doing any of this right #oops sorry ranted abt the bad fic in my tags-#it’s not where the author’ll see it and know it’s about them i don’t feel bad abt it #this was my first time even looking at stuff for this fandom so #cw self harm in tags #idk if i need to tag anything else for that 😭#fanfic #ao3 #ryan shut the fuck up

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bloomeng · 1 month

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I just finished a fic that dealt heavily with disability and terminal illness and if I had to guess I’d say the author was speaking from experience whether that be themselves or someone close to them so as you can imagine it was very inclusive.

And yet they had the only female character (at least to have a speaking role) go out of her way to be ableist. That was the only purpose she served in the story. She had less than a paragraph of ooc, out of left field, mean ass dialogue, and a single throw away line after. Her comment wasn’t just snide, it was genuinely abhorrent. It was the worst kind of “she would never fucking say that,” because it wasn’t just out of character, it was needlessly misogynistic.

It pisses me off how misogynistic fandom spaces get without even realizing it. I know I’ve talked about this before but why is it in fics that these one dimension villains that exist solely to be bad plot devices always have to be women? I don’t know which is worse; making a whole new female oc to be your one dimensional bad guy or twisting a canon female character to not even resemble herself for the sake of “well I needed someone to suck for conflict.”

In this fic it also felt like such a backhanded thing too because we went so far out of our way to be inclusive and to explore the nuances of these male characters yet the only female character got nothing more than a shitty throw away comment. Made even worse by the fact that there’s a range of male characters in ofmd who are even more likely to have said the ableist thing.

Like it already sucks that female characters don’t get the same level of attention in fandom spaces. Searching for wlw ships is a constant struggle of weeding out all the fics where they’re tagged as a side couple. And you know what I’m not even absolved of this. I’m guilty of also engaging more with male characters and I think the conversation is complex because it’s a feedback loop. Which like…. you can write essays about that. There probably are essays on it.

But the issue of villainizing female characters for the sake of bad conflict isn’t complex.

Which is why I find it so much more frustrating to see people go out of their way to strip female characters of their personalities for the sake of their gay ships and male favs. I want to assume most of these authors don’t even realize they’re doing it, however I’ve seen multiple authors directly state in the notes “I don’t hate *insert female character* but somebody needed to be the villain.” It’s laughable.

Disclaimer: I’m not saying women in fics can’t do bad things or be villains or even be bad people. Men in fics get to be all these things and deep. So why is it that women can’t?

#i don’t know how to tag this one #the fic i’m talking about here was an ofmd fic #but this issue isn’t at all unique to ofmd #on average i actually think the ofmd fandom tends to be better about the female characters #this fic just happened to not be that case #it was also fine outside of this one issue #ofmd #txt

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thehandwitch · 1 year

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thinking about ford calling shermie shortly after coming through the portal because he hasn’t spoken to his older brother in thirty-something years — he was kind of bad at keeping contact, okay — and he misses him. (and also, yk, as far as ford’s aware shermie thinks stan is dead and that ford owns a kitschy tourist trap, and he really needs to rectify that.)

and it’s probably like 5am when he calls but shermie picks up a few rings in with a sleepy “hello?”

and ford’s heart stops because he can barely believe he’s hearing his big brother’s voice again, and it takes a few long seconds before he finally says “shermie, it’s stanford.”

“stan? hi! what’s going on? are the kids okay?”

“the kids— yes, yes, they’re okay. they’re great, actually.”

“so why are you calling? i’m not complaining, i wish you’d call more, but it’s a little out of character.”

“… speaking of that.” and ford pauses because he didn’t exactly plan on how he was going to broach the whole ‘hey stan is alive and has been pretending to be me this entire time’ thing.

he settles on asking: “did you ever find it strange that i started wanting to go by stan after— after stan passed?”

he expects shermie to say something like ‘no, i figured you were just grieving’ but instead the pause on the other end of the line stretches out until shermie says, slowly and tearfully, “ford? is that you?”

and ford breaks. “yes,” he whispers because if he speaks at a normal volume he’s certain his voice will crack under the weight of his emotions. “yes, it’s me. shermie, how did you…?”

“you think stan could fool me? i grew up babysitting you punks. the two of you switching places tricked me maybe three times before i got smart. and then you got me a few more times when stan realized he could wear your gloves with an stuffed extra finger, but i ended up developing a sense for it. i knew from the second he called to tell me about his death.” shermie scoffs, and then quiets. “stanford… what happened?”

“it’s a long story.”

“i’ve got time.”

“i’m afraid you don’t understand. it’s… an exceedingly long story.”

“well, i’ll make time,” shermie says and then pauses. “is stan still around? is he okay?”

“yes, he’s … he’s here.”

“and you’re not still mad at him, are you?”

“well—”

“after forty years, ford?”

“it’s complicated!”

“then explain it!”

and ford does, he explains, he fills in the gaps of his own side with what stan told to the kids and that gopher-looking man and lays most everything out in the open (except for bill, he’ll never, ever tell anyone about bill) and at the end shermie is dead silent.

eventually he says, “if you weren’t you, and stan weren’t stan… i don’t think i’d believe any of that.”

and ford sighs and says “yes, that’s understandable.”

and shermie says “well, you know what i’m going to tell you now” and gives ford this excellent monologue about how he needs to mend things with stan, and ford knows he’s right but he’s still just so bitter and all he says is “i’ll consider it.”

the conservation wraps up with shermie telling ford to tell stan to expect a call from him very soon and then they hang up. and ford just. leans his head against the wall.

and from the end of the hallway, stan says “yeesh, i was really not looking forward to having that conversation. thanks for handling it for me, sixer.”

and ford can’t even find it in himself to be mad at that because he knows shermie is going to unleash the world’s wisest and most annoyed three hour rant upon stan the next time they speak.

(ford doesn’t warn stan about the phone call either, even though shermie asked him to. he thinks stan deserves it.)

anyways. yeah. thinking about that.

#this is like. a half-baked fic i swear my actual writing is more coherent than this #ford pines #stan pines #shermie pines #gravity falls #a tale of two stans #i don’t rly know what to tag because i don’t remember how the tagging system works / what the tagging system standards are on here #so i hope these are acceptable and don’t break any kind of. unspoken etiquette or something lol #boy am i scared to post this but who’s gonna see it besides my one follower which is literally a bot?#rome rambles #rome writes

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sesamestreep · 1 year

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Taylor Swift prompts: Matt/Foggy, 13

13. hands around a cold glass (from the SECOND Taylor Swift prompt list) I was struggling with some writer's block a few weeks ago and my dearest Zainab was kind enough to give me permission to write a tiny Matt/Foggy-centric one-shot set in her Great British Bake-Off AU and I absolutely leapt at the chance, because I love this 'verse and I've been bothering her with texts about what these two would be up to in that AU since like January. I think this makes sense without reading her previous entries in the series (which focus primarily on Sam and Bucky, with an ensemble cast of other MCU characters), but you should read them anyway because they're very good and they will make your life better! Cross-posted to AO3 here (with more notes) if that's your jam 🍯

Even though they’ve set aside their evening for the express purpose of making a decision, Foggy waits until they’ve finished the takeout they ordered to the office (neutral ground, so no one has home field advantage) and cleaned up all the various cartons and silverware and settled back at the conference table with each of their second beers of the night before he brings up the thing they’re supposed to be talking about.

“Okay,” Foggy says, setting his beer down firmly and flipping a page over on his legal pad to find where he scribbled some notes earlier. “Reason number one that you should move into my apartment: you love me.”

“You can’t use that as one of your reasons,” Matt replies, tapping a pen against the table in a fidgety gesture that’s unlike him.

“Why not?”

“Because you also love me, which means you should move into my apartment. They cancel each other out!”

“Oh, my bad,” Foggy says, as he crosses it off his list. “I didn’t know we were playing by Boggle rules…”

Matt scrunches his nose in confusion. “I’m not familiar.”

“Really?” he asks. “You don’t know Boggle? It’s like a classic word game, you have these little cubes with letters on them that you shake and—you know what, saying it out loud, it makes sense that you haven’t played it. I understand that now. It would be impossibly boring even if there was a braille version. Moving on! Reason number two that you should move in with me!”

“Okay…”

“I’m super handsome.”

“Foggy!”

“What?”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m also handsome,” he says, quietly, after a minute.

“Damn, that’s true,” Foggy says, as if it had never occurred to him.

“Please take this seriously!”

“Fine! Reason number three: I have a lot more stuff than you do. It will take me so long to pack and it will probably make me cry and possibly throw up. You, comparatively, would have a much easier time packing, because you live like a weird, sad monk.”

“Hey! I do not! Just because I don’t like clutter…”

“Until we started dating, you owned one singular blanket,” Foggy points out. “It was a blanket for your bed and your couch that you moved back and forth as needed.”

“It was a perfectly good system,” Matt grumbles.

“Right, but isn’t it better now that you have a bed blanket and a couch blanket?”

“I guess,” Matt admits, as though he’s being tormented. “To be fair, it would probably take you at least a week just to pack up all of your cookbooks.”

“I don’t have that many!”

“You bought three new ones last week! That’s already three more than I own!”

“I can’t help it that my friends keep writing cookbooks,” Foggy objects. “What was I supposed to do, Matt? Not buy Daisy’s book?”

Matt crosses his arms, irritably. “No, but you didn’t know the authors of the other two books you bought. You could’ve skipped theirs.”

“Cookbooks make me happy! I don’t tell you not to…go to the gym!”

“You do, in fact, tell me that all the time.”

Foggy makes a hand gesture that’s meant to convey the sentiment of duh, except that such things are generally lost on Matt, for obvious reasons. “Yeah, well, usually it’s because I want you to stay in bed longer.”

“And I want you to own fewer cookbooks so that there’s room in the apartment for us to actually have a bed.”

“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “Give me one of your reasons, then.”

“I know where everything is in my apartment,” Matt says, simply, “whereas at your place, I’m always looking in the wrong cabinets for stuff or tripping over things.”

“That’s just because you’re not as used to it. I’d go through the same thing if I moved to your place!”

“You’d still have an easier time of it than me.”

“That’s…fair,” Foggy concedes. “I can’t really disagree with that without being an asshole.”

“My favorite way to win an argument,” Matt replies, with a smile. “Playing the blind card.”

Foggy shakes his head. “You devious son of a bitch.”

“Also, my apartment is closer to the office and my rent is cheaper.”

“I’ll give you the cheap rent thing, though it is only because of that terrible billboard with the crazy LED lights that come through your windows at all hours, which does not bother you but would definitely bother me.”

“I remember you sleeping through three separate fire drills in college. I think you’d somehow manage to deal with the unique lighting situation of this apartment.”

“Fine,” Foggy admits, begrudgingly. “But I absolutely contest it being a mark in your favor that your apartment is closer to the office. I think it helps with work-life balance that my place is a little farther away.”

Matt thinks this over for a moment and then nods. “Okay, fine. We’ll call it a draw.”

“Good. Moving on, then. Reason number…whatever that my apartment is better: I live right next door to that bodega with those amazing breakfast sandwiches and the good, cheap coffee you love.”

“Fuck,” Matt says, with feeling. “That’s a really good point.”

“Yeah, it is!”

“Okay,” he says, in the tone Foggy’s been hearing him use in court and mock trials and even drunken debates for over a decade now. It means Matt is currently running through his rebuttal in his mind, devising the best and most efficient way to win this round. Foggy loves that tone of voice, and the expression of intense thought that always accompanies it, even if it usually means he's about to lose whatever argument they're having. He really should be more immune to it by now, but love has made him weak and he's truly not even mad about it.

“My apartment,” Matt says, finally, “has an in-unit washer and dryer.”

That’s a solid point, but Foggy is not going to admit defeat so easily. “Okay,” he says, “but—counterpoint—mine has a dishwasher!”

“I don’t mind hand washing dishes,” Matt replies with a shrug.

“Wait until you live with me to say that,” Foggy says. “I bake all the time! It’s a lot of dishes!”

“It’s still not as bad as having to go to a laundromat and pay whenever you need to do laundry!”

“Well, my landlord says the machines in the basement will be fixed soon, so my laundromat days are numbered.”

“I will believe that when I see it.”

“You can’t see anything, sweetheart.”

“Exactly,” Matt says, smugly. He may have a point. Foggy’s landlord has been saying the washing machines will be fixed “soon” for six months now.

Foggy blows out a breath, making as much noise as humanly possible to express his frustration. “So, where does that leave us? Is somebody winning?”

Matt laughs and distractedly runs a finger through the layer of condensation on his beer bottle, dividing it down the middle with a thick line. “Honestly, I don’t know. It feels like we’re even, at this point.”

“In the spirit of honesty, then, can I ask you something?”

Matt shrugs, the gesture completely at odds with how tense the rest of his body became at the question. “Sure.”

“You do want to move in with me, right?” Foggy asks, hating himself a little for even needing to. “I know we’ve discussed it, and you said you wanted to, but it’s okay if you’re not ready yet or you changed your mind. It’s a big step—”

Matt leans forward to cover Foggy’s hand with his own, letting his fingers, still cold and damp from holding the glass, brush over Foggy’s wrist, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Of course I want to! Does it seem like I don’t?”

“No, it’s just—I know you like your space and that you value your independence a lot, and I get that but I also don’t necessarily relate to it on the same level. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into doing something that’s going to make you miserable.”

“Well, for one thing, you’re not pressuring me and living with you is not going to make me miserable. It will do the opposite, in fact.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s not even going to be our first time living together, dumbass,” Matt says, fondly. “You do remember college, don’t you?”

“Very little of it, in fact,” Foggy quips. “I think I was drunk for most of Spring 2010. It’s more or less a blank spot.”

“Still, we didn’t hate living together then, did we?”

“No,” Foggy replies. “One could even argue that we loved living together.”

“And that was with us sleeping in twin beds. Imagine how much better it will be, uh…not in twin beds…”

Foggy stifles a laugh. “Matt, did you seriously get all blushy at the idea of a queen sized bed?”

“No,” Matt says, tipping his chin down to hide his face. "Shut up!"

“You’re so cute. I want to have sex with you immediately.”

“No! No sex! In fact, I’m breaking up with you.”

“No, you’re not! You love me!”

“Yes, I do,” Matt says, sullenly, “And for what it’s worth, I only got embarrassed because it felt like I was implying that we slept together in our dorm in college, which obviously wasn’t true and I didn’t want to…”

“You didn’t want to admit how big of a crush you had on me back then, I get it,” Foggy says. “Oh, wait, sorry! That was me!”

“Again: shut up!”

“Okay, but now you’ve got me thinking: maybe we should do twin beds…”

“Foggy,” Matt groans.

“I don’t want our relationship to be in violation of the Hays Code, Matt!”

“Well, we’re both men, so that ship has already sailed, I’m afraid…”

“I’m just saying: if it’s good enough for Mary Tyler Moore and Dick Van Dyke, it should be good enough for us!”

“To each their own, I guess, but I sleep better when I share a bed with you.”

“I’ll pretend your reasons are romantic,” Foggy says, aiming for sarcasm and missing by a wide margin, “and not just because you turn into a koala when you sleep.”

“Have you considered being less huggable, maybe?” Matt asks, with a straight face.

“That’s like asking the sun to be less radiant! It is counter to my very nature!”

He smiles. “Fair point.”

Foggy leans back in his chair, making sure to keep his fingers tangled together with Matt’s as he does. He sighs, closing his eyes, and tries to come up with an answer to their problem. It’s a big step for their relationship and huge life changes tend to require sacrifice or compromise on some level, but it’s difficult to think of an option that doesn’t require much more of that from one of them than the other. Except…

“I have a very stupid idea,” Foggy announces.

“Okay,” Matt replies, warily.

“And I know it’s stupid, okay? I just said that, but I want to be very clear that I’m aware of it. I’m just going to say it anyway, to put it out there.”

“Okay…”

“Should we just look for a place together?”

Matt furrows his brow, puzzling through the implications of this option. “As in, we both leave our current apartments for a completely new one?”

“Yeah. That way we both have to pack, and move, and get used to a new space, instead of only one of us having to do it. I know it’s more expensive and more trouble, so—“

“Is it weird that it makes me feel better?” Matt asks. “The idea that we’d both have to be inconvenienced, equally?”

“No,” Foggy admits. “It makes me feel better too. I want it to feel equal. And we could find a bigger place, maybe with an extra room.”

“For an office?”

Foggy laughs. “Honestly, it’s a sign of how low my standards are that I’m just relieved your mind didn’t go immediately to an in-home gym.”

Matt’s eyebrows lift, excitedly. “We could find a building that has a gym, though.”

“Like you’d ever cheat on Fogwell’s like that.”

“I meant for cross-training…”

“Of course you did,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes. “We could make a list. Things we need—“

“Close to the bodega with the good coffee,” Matt interjects, smiling.

“And a functional laundry room, somewhere on site,” Foggy adds, nodding. “And then a list of things that would be nice to have, like a gym or no nearby billboards that will fry my retinas in the middle of the night.”

“So, you’re saying we’d get to debate and write out two more lists?” Matt asks. “Are you trying to seduce me right now? In our office? Where solemn attorney-ing is done?”

“No, it just comes so naturally to me,” Foggy replies, running his thumb over Matt’s knuckles affectionately. “Though it sounds to me like that’s a yes?”

Matt gives him a surprised look. “Yes to…?”

“God, keep your pants on for two minutes, Murdock! I’m talking about the plan!”

“Oh, yeah. The plan. I mean, I know it’s more work for us and more trouble, but…”

“I’d go through a lot more trouble for your sake, if it means making you happy,” Foggy says, simply. It’s the truth, and he tries to make it a habit to say what he means, especially with Matt. It took them long enough to get here. What’s the point in hiding how he feels now?

Matt rests his chin in the hand that isn’t holding Foggy’s. “You’re very sweet, you know that?”

“I’ve heard it before, once or twice.”

“I don’t know what I did to get so lucky.”

“You smiled at me once when we were eighteen and it was all over for me. And then fifteen years later, you got jealous of a woman I met on a reality show and finally fell in love with me.”

Matt turns an adorable shade of pink and takes his hand away to cross his arms petulantly over his chest. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, so it didn’t take me going to a wedding with one of my best friends under completely platonic circumstances for you to admit you had feelings for me?” Foggy asks, grinning.

“I don’t recall, actually,” Matt says, primly, as he reaches for his beer again and takes an uninterested sip.

“Speaking of Daisy,” Foggy says, enjoying this way too much, “I should talk to her. She and Daniel said their realtor from when they moved was great. They might be able to put us in touch with someone.”

“We could always use the realtor who rented me my place,” Matt suggests, in the neutral tone of someone who definitely wouldn’t rather eat glass than ask Daisy for help with anything. “She was very helpful and I remember she gave me her card. I could probably find it.”

“Yeah, she gave you her card because she wanted to sleep with you,” Foggy says, shaking his head. “Pass.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, Foggy,” Matt replies, with an evil smile. “She showed me the apartment under completely platonic circumstances.”

Foggy rolls his eyes at that. “You’ve never been in platonic circumstances with anyone, Matt! Every person who meets you wants to sleep with you immediately.”

Matt shrugs, like this means nothing. “Too bad for them. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Foggy laughs. “Is it serious?”

Matt nods, and his smile isn’t evil at all anymore. “Very,” he says. “We’re moving in together.”

#something something aging userbase of this website blah blah #sometimes you just want to write a fic about idiot lawyers in love while also roasting your former roommate #for how many cookbooks she owned that you had to help her move twice in one year (she will never know don’t worry)#is that so wrong?#i don't think so #anyway much love to zainab for letting me goof around in the gbbo au sandbox with her #i love this universe so much i never want to leave #also this...doesn't really fit the prompt but there is a cold glass somewhere in here #i had other stuff i wrote for this prompt that I will reuse elsewhere but they got too unruly for a prompt fill #also i know i got sent this prompt because we agreed it was like mega thirsty and therefore perfect for mattfoggy but like....#it needed to be fluff this time yall #are these tags making it obvious i'm nervous??? oops #taylor swift song prompts #prompt fill #firstelevens #WE ARE AO3 CO-CREATORS NOW EVERYONE SEND US SOMETHING OFF THE REGISTRY #love is real!!!#the gbbo au #mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson #matt x foggy #i hate tagging ships it's so convoluted!!!#daredevil #homelywenchsociety #that's my writing tag dw about it

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