Clothes sharing is just like the ultimate fluffy trope. Like fuck yes, give me one person in my otp letting the other wear their letterman jacket around school like every cheesy high school romance in existence. Give me the smaller one walking around in the bigger one’s oversized, worn sweatshirt and socked feet, with their hair all messed up from sleeping. Give me my otp wearing those dumb but adorable coupley shirts that match each other. Just give it to me in every variation possible I love that shit it’s so cute I can’t handle it.
based loosely off of 3.10 and its lovely accompanying blog post. a gift of sorts for @brandnewfashion as she’s had to listen to me blubber and cry about these past few updates over the phone 😁
It isn’t even until he sits down on Bitty’s mattress that Jack realizes he’s cold.
This early in the morning, the silence in the Haus is as deep and supple as leather. Safe, like the soft hum of a radio from behind closed doors. Perhaps it’s that safety, the sense of familiarity, that helps Jack regain awareness of his own body. Limb by limb, beat by beat. He slumps, sinking into the warm, shallow divot left behind on the mattress, the exact spot where Bitty must have been sleeping.
It’s strange—he can’t even remember much about his drive from Providence to Samwell. All he can remember is the rain, falling from the sky in sheets. The sharp, repetitive whine of the windshield wipers working at full speed. The forced pulse of his own breath. Bitty’s voice, ashamed and weary and pleading, looping on repeat through his brain.
But now he’s here, at last, with Bitty close enough to touch, and Jack aches.
“—and your pants, oh, I do hope they aren’t made of wool, honey, it’ll be a wonder if they dry by morning,” Bitty says, still trying to fold Jack’s sodden pants over a hanger. Jack knows that he’s taking longer than necessary, knows it from the way Bitty’s movements are still jagged and raw, the way his face is turned away as he fusses.
Unperturbed, Jack shrugs out of his suit jacket, drapes it over Bitty’s desk chair. Slowly begins to unbutton the dress shirt that has stuck to his arms and chest like a second skin.
He hears a soft intake of breath and looks up. Bitty is holding a towel now, standing closer than expected. His eyes seem drawn to the space between the third and fourth buttons that Jack had just wrangled free. He has his bottom lip caught fiercely between his teeth, and Jack has never seen anything braver in his life.
“You fool,” Bitty whispers again, and Jack shivers. He drops his hands from his shirt, opens his knees to invite Bitty into his space.
hc that nursey and dex are secretly really good at what the other person is majoring in
nursey secretly is a
genius and is actually super good at pretty much all STEM subjects, but he grew
up reading a lot and while he’s great at all of those typical nerd subjects
he’s only really passionate about lit and poetry which is why he chose english
as a major
meanwhile dex is actually a
literature NERD and he did really fucking well in high school english and he
really loves writing, and for the longest time he wanted to pursue that, but
because of his upbringing he decided to pursue comp sci as a major. and he
isn’t even particularly good at comp sci and engineering and maths??? but he
chose a major that was ~practical~ and would give him the most job prospects bc
after his childhood in a small town where everyone knew everyone, he wanted out, he wanted to leave, and he knew to do that he needed a steady source of income, had to earn enough money to actually sustain himself.
so on top of nursey being
attractive af and kinda annoying, dex kinda resents him for basically going
after the future that he really wanted. dex HATES that nursey essentially
has everything he wants
Untitled Steve/Tony Identity porn, post-break-up Steve has regrets. Tony is out of his depth.
@brandnewfashion posted some snippets about Steve breaking up with Tony and then coming to his friend Iron Man to talk it out and god help me this happened.
The universe hated him. Tony had
suspected it for years, and here was his proof.
Once, the sight of Captain America
walking toward him, his hair tousled and spiky with sweat and a beer
in each hand had been the highlight of Tony’s fucking day. Now it was
a punishment – karmic vengeance for Tony’s sins.
He’d never hated his secret identity
more than now, having to be the supportive friend while Steve hashed
out his break-up with his faithless, worthless lover, Tony Stark.
That was unfair, he reminded himself.
Steve knew Iron Man and Tony were friends, he didn’t trash Tony to
Iron Man’s face, he just… he told the truth. It wasn’t Steve’s
fault that the truth ripped Tony’s heart out every time.
The stupid chest plate was
three-quarters charged. Ten more minutes and he could have made his
“Hey, Cap,” he greeted. He didn’t
get up from his place on the window seat, just nodded his head at his
teammate as Steve approached.
Steve handed him a beer – with a
straw already in because he really was a damned considerate friend –
and lowered himself down beside Tony with a tired grunt. “I was
afraid you’d already left.”
“Without my beer?” Tony raised his
bottle to Cap in a teasing salute and tried to ignore the pain in his
chest, the wistful yearning that Steve could have wanted Tony
to stay, that he could have wanted to spend time with Tony like this.
well. He took a long sip of his beer and breathed past the pain.
Iron Man had always been the best part of him. Tony Stark was only
ever the mistake.
screwed up, Shellhead.” Steve braced his arms on his knees, stared
down at the floor, his beer hanging limply in one hand, untouched. “I
don’t know what to do.”
paused, the battle running through his mind moment-by-moment. “What
are you talking about, Cap? You ran a clean mission, just like
not that, not – this
isn’t about the Avengers.” Steve dragged in a deep breath. “It’s
Tony, it’s – how I handled things with him when I left.”
be too hard on yourself, Cap.” Tony kept the mask aimed toward Cap
but forced his eyes to focus on the wall over Cap’s shoulder. “Look,
if you think you were harsh on the guy or whatever no one’s gonna
hold it against you. Breakups are emotional, it happens.”
was cruel.” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper and wavered on the
last syllable. Tony closed his eyes for a moment and refused to think
about it. Refused to acknowledge the way his heart fluttered in his
chest with hope. No. Steve was too kind, that was all. He regretted
the way things ended but – but that wasn’t the same as regretting
that they ended.
not cruel,” Tony said finally.
weren’t there, you don’t-” Steve took a deep breath. “You don’t
know what I said to him. I said – I said some pretty terrible
things, Shellhead. I accused him of lying to me. I told him he was a
disappointment, that I should never have expected any better from
him.” He rolled the beer between both hands and dragged in another
very diplomatic,” Tony said. “But nothing that wasn’t true.
Stark’s probably well aware that he’s not exactly relationship
material.” He set his own beer down as his stomach roiled. “Look,
you’re better off without him anyway.”
Steve’s voice was low and hoarse. “Don’t say that. It’s bad enough
break-up wasn’t your fault.”
sat up abruptly. “Wasn’t it? He was trying – I could tell he was
trying. And I could tell he was floundering but instead of helping
him I just stood there, expecting him to know what I wanted and them
blaming him when he didn’t meet my expectations.”
come with expectations, Cap.”
come with compromises,”
Steve spit the word out like it tasted bad. “I knew – I knew
he was struggling. I knew he
wasn’t sure how to make it work and I just – I let him hang
himself. Over and over again. And then I blamed him for choking.”
felt strangely light-headed. He had to resist the urge to check his
pulse. The chest plate was almost fully charged, he was fine. “I
think you’re probably being too hard on yourself.”
love him.” Steve ran both hands over his face. “I love him and I
really made a mess of things, Shellhead. I don’t know what to do.”
do you want to do?” Tony asked carefully.
want to rewind time and punch my past self in the teeth,” Steve
said. His voice was shaking but there was an edge of anger there that
had been missing. “I want to be half the partner I thought I was. I
want to find the part of me that took some sick satisfaction in
letting Tony down and cut it out with a knife.” He slammed his beer
down on the end table hard enough that Tony was half expecting it to
shatter. “I want to make it right, but I know I can’t.”
Well, if you did let Stark down – and literally no one in the world
is saying you did, Cap – but if you did, then he’s the one who has
to decide if you can make it right.”
slumped like a puppet with its strings cut. “I know.”
what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong.” Tony clapped a hand on
Steve’s shoulder, mindful of the armor. It feels weird to say that –
so much of their relationship has been built around the idea of Steve
as the just leader, the brilliant commander, the trustworthy
confidant. Tony had disagreed with Cap before but he couldn’t remember
ever flat-out telling the man he was wrong to his face before. “But
if you want Stark back he’d be an idiot not to have you.”
want him back,” Steve said thickly. Tony turned his head so he
wouldn’t have to see the best man he’d ever known cry over Tony
high-maintenance,” Tony said. “He’s going to let you down again.”
as much as I’ve let myself down.” Steve reached up and covered
Tony’s hand with his, squeezing the gauntlet slightly. Tony couldn’t
feel it through the metal, but he could imagine the strength of that
grip. “You’re a good friend.”
When Bitty first calls Jack “sweetheart,” Jack freezes in
For a moment, Bitty thinks it’s just his Skype video acting
up, but then his own words catch up to him, play back in his ears like a wave
crashing back to shore. Jack’s still frozen on screen, his mouth slightly
agape, his eyes widened. Even in low resolution, Jack’s eyes are still so, so
“I—I mean…” Bitty huffs out a breath, wrings the corner of
his bedsheet nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—no, well I did, I just—” Bitty laughs, and even to his own ears it sounds forced
and fake. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. It’s just,
southern habit, I guess, you know.”
He bites his tongue so he doesn’t accidentally say the rest.
That calling him “sweetheart” felt so natural and right in his mouth. That he
wants to call him other things, like “honey” and “baby” and “darling.” That it’s
not just a southern habit, that Bitty wants to save these names for Jack and
Jack only, that he wants Jack to know that he’s precious. That Bitty loves him.
Jack’s mouth moves. He says something, but Bitty’s ears are
still hot and ringing and he misses it.
“What—what’s that?” Bitty asks, and presses down more firmly
on his earbuds.
“I like it when you call me that,” Jack says, quietly, and
the way he’s looking up through his lashes is soft and vulnerable and almost
demure. “Sweetheart. I like that. A lot. It sounds—it sounds good, when you say
“Oh,” Bitty says, and it’s not even intentional, it’s barely
a breath. “You do?”
“I do,” Jack says, and oh, is he blushing?
Bitty suddenly desperately wants to be next to him, wants to
be crushed in his embrace and feel how that blush tastes under his tongue.
“I miss you,” he says instead, because it’s true, he misses
Jack fiercely, more than anything else in the world. “I miss you so much honey.”
Jack’s mouth parts again, his bottom lip pink and wet. He
looks like a man who has seen something beautiful, like a man so very much in love.
“I miss you,” he says back, like it’s a reflex, then seems
to collect himself. He chuckles softly. “I’m going to be down next week anyway,
you know that.” He smiles again, a wide and shining thing, and Bitty feels so,
“Oh, don’t I know it,” Bitty says, and props his chin on top
of his folded arms. “I hope you’re ready for the Georgia heat, you poor ice
creature. It was over 80 degrees today.”
Jack laughs, chirps, and the rest of their conversation is
soft and easy, like it has been ever since graduation back in May. It isn’t
long before Bitty looks down at his phone and sees that it’s 2 am.
“Don’t big hockey stars need their sleep?” he teases, and
Jack grins at him.
“Don’t want to sleep, want to talk to you,” Jack says, and
Bitty feels his heart glow.
“Go to bed. I’ll text you in the morning,” Bitty says. He
pauses. “Goodnight, sweetheart.
“Goodnight,” Jack says. He looks radiant. Then, “Mon coeur.”
Bitty doesn’t know what that means, but it warms him down to
his bones all the same.
A few days later, when Jack does come down to Madison for
the 4th of July, Bitty meets him at the airport and stops just short of
launching himself into Jack’s arms. Instead, he leans forward, pushes himself
up on his tiptoes.
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers, and Bitty is so close that he
can see in full detail just how Jack reacts to the name: can see the way his
mouth trembles, how his eyes shine, how the lines in his face become smiles.
“Hi there,” Jack says back, voice hoarse, almost shy, and he
lets go of his duffel bag for just a moment to lace his fingers with Bitty’s, trapping
warmth between their palms.
Bitty squeezes, smiles. Slowly, Jack lifts their entwined hands
and gives Bitty’s a kiss, closes his eyes, and holds on for as long as he
What do you think Bitty’s reaction is when he sees that Jack keeps all of his little notes?
Imagine him shuffling into the kitchen one morning, the first morning he’s ever slept in later than Jack. Normally Jack gets up before Bitty has even stirred, goes for a run, showers, and gets back in bed to cuddle Bitty awake. Bitty wakes up with soft kisses down his neck and his boyfriend whispering good morning into his skin and he can’t think of anything he would rather wake up to.
But this time, they stay up late talking and… other things. Bitty knows Jack is especially tired from a long week, so he convinces Jack to turn off his alarm for the next morning and sleep in a bit; he deserves a day off. Surprisingly, Jack reluctantly agrees.
So Bitty wakes to the sound of Jack’s soft breathing beside him, rolls over to see Jack’s face all relaxed with sleep, his lashes dark against his skin. Bitty pauses to appreciate how lucky he is to be waking up to this man, and carefully leans over and kisses Jack’s forehead before slipping out of bed. He grabs one of Jack’s shirts on his way out; it’s so soft and so big on him, and it smells like Jack. Bitty loves it.
So he’s trying to be as quiet as possible as he walks out into the kitchen with the intention of making breakfast for Jack. Normally they do it together, which is always fun, but Bitty really wants to take advantage of this one opportunity to have Jack wake up to a breakfast he loves.
Bitty doesn’t even notice the notes at first. He’s already halfway through mixing the pancake batter and is just about to put away the milk when he catches sight of his own handwriting. He stops dead with one hand outstretched to open the fridge, and his mouth is hanging open a little bit as he stares at the rows of post it notes that are on the fridge in front of him.
And the thing is, Bitty knows that Jack loves him. He knows it; Jack isn’t shy about telling him, he tells him all the time, and Bitty sees the look in Jack’s eyes when he says it to him. It’s as intense as his game face, but so much softer, and it makes Bitty feel like he’s the only person in Jack’s world for those few moments. He knows Jack loves him.
This makes him feel different, though. Those moments when Jack tells him he loves him are beautiful and Bitty feels weak in the knees when he hears it, but those are moments Jack chooses to share with him. This is different. Bitty feels like he’s peeking behind the curtain, looking past the affectionate touches and the reverent smile Jack gives him–the one that tugs softly at the corners of his mouth and makes Bitty’s heart flutter–and seeing just how deeply embedded into Jack’s life he is. It seems silly, but his heart is racing and suddenly he realizes that when Jack isn’t with him, he’s thinking about him. When Bitty is miles and miles away from him, Jack is still here in this kitchen, loving him just as much as if Bitty were standing right in front of him. Bitty feels silly for being so overwhelmed by it, but he’s tearing up and he can tell that he’s smiling stupidly but he doesn’t care. Jack thinks about him in those quiet moments that he has by himself in his apartment… even when they’re apart and he’s alone, he wants little pieces of Bitty with him. He loves Bitty that much, so much that he doesn’t get tired of being reminded of him.
Bitty has known Jack loves him for a while now, but it isn’t until that moment that he really realizes the magnitude of it, because Jack keeps his silly little notes on his fridge and Bitty has never been happier in his entire life.
imagine tiny little tony stark having a nightmare and climbing into bed with maria and her comforting him until he falls asleep again. but the next time howard is there and yells at him. maria, naturally, yells back and goes and gets in tony’s bed with him instead, but the next time tony has a nightmare he doesn’t go to their room because he doesn’t want them to fight again.
instead, he very shyly wakes jarvis and asks if he can stay there, and before jarvis can even answer, anna sits up and says of course he can and lifts him up into the bed herself to sing him back to sleep. jarvis falls in love with her all over again when she smiles at him over tony’s head.
because I thought it might be fun to scrape the Sam/Natasha tag on AO3 for fics that were actually, you know, Sam/Natasha. this isn’t complete, but I seem to be having problems connecting to AO3, so this will have to be part one.
Jack’s halfway through a sentence when he realizes that Bitty’s fast asleep.
His mouth snaps shut immediately, whatever he’d been in the middle of saying slipping from his mind. He falls silent, staring at the screen.
Bitty is laying on his stomach, the side of his face pressed against his pillow, his pale, sleep-mussed hair tumbling over his forehead. He still has his rabbit tucked under his arm, and now that he’s quiet, Jack notices that he’s making adorable little snoring noises.
Jack feels something bubbling warm and sweet in his chest, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He takes a moment just to stare at Bitty; the familiar slope of his shoulders, the “ZI” on the back of Bitty’s shirt, the way the blankets block the rest of his name out because they’re tugged up around Bitty. He takes a moment just to look, and marvel at the fact that he can. Jack gets to see Bitty soft in his sleep, his hair all ruffled and his face relaxed in his slumber. He gets to wake up next to Bitty and see him blink the sleep out of his eyes.
When they’re together, he’ll be able to kiss Bitty good morning. He won’t care about morning breath, but Bitty might, and Jack might earn that face Bitty makes when he scrunches his nose up in that adorable way.
It’s quiet moments like these when he realizes how much he loves Bitty, and it still surprises him that it’s not hard. It’s hard being away from him, it’s hard keeping it a secret, its hard being scared of not knowing what could happen for them in the future.
But loving Bitty, right from the moment he realized he did, has always been easy. That part has never been hard, and he knows it never will be.
Jack lingers for a few moments more, soaking it all in, before he sighs a little and reaches out to brush his fingers across the screen, right where Bitty’s hair is falling across his forehead.
“Bonne nuit, mon coeur,” he murmurs softly.
Bitty doesn’t stir, and Jack closes his laptop, gets up to set it on his desk and turns off his light.
When he gets back in bed and pulls the blanket up to his chin, his heart is full and he falls asleep knowing how it feels to be completely and utterly happy.
having been with bitty for a few months now already and been friends with him for even longer, he knows that bitty can get a little uncomfortable when jack starts spending too much on him.
so he takes every opportunity he gets to put them in situations where they’ll get fined.
he wants bitty to be happy. and he knows that bitty is the happiest when he’s baking and taking care of the people he loves. so why not kiss and cuddle with bitty in front of their friends? they know and are happy for them. and he gets to indirectly fund bitty’s trips to the grocery stores.
as far as jack’s concerned, what matters most to him is his boyfriend’s happiness and wellbeing. and through the sin bin he can still be part of the haus. he could still be part of his friends’ lives, even when he’s an hour away in providence.
so jack visits the haus as often as possible, and he kisses and kisses bitty, and encourages the pet names in front of his friends. it makes him happy. it makes bitty happy.
and, as an added bonus, it keeps his boys well-fed.
(and clean. wait a few more kisses for that dryer, dex.)
Consider: Tony buying Steve a “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” shirt for St. Patrick’s Day. He’s tickled to death when he presents it to Steve after his morning run. Steve recognizes that there’s a bit of a challenge there, in that Tony thinks Steve would be embarrassed to wear it. So Steve showers and puts it on.
Tony’s only a little surprised and mostly delighted, and takes advantage of the excuse (as if he needs one) to kiss Steve at every turn.
But then the rest of the team starts trickling into the kitchen for breakfast… and Tony realizes he may have made a mistake.
Pepper and Rhodey are already sitting at the table when Steve and Tony get there. Rhodey just raises an eyebrow at Steve’s shirt, but Pepper grins and tugs on his sleeve until he leans down far enough for her to kiss his cheek. Clint wanders in next, grins at Steve’s shirt and plants a dramatic, sloppy kiss on Steve’s cheek. Wanda comes in on the tail end of that exchange, giggles at the way Steve is wiping his cheek and glaring at Clint, and drops a dainty little peck on his nose.
Sam comes in with Bucky and Natasha just a minute behind him, and laughs before kissing Steve soundly on the cheek. Tony, at this point, is starting to reconsider the wisdom of his actions, when he looks up and spots the matching shit-eating grins on Bucky and Natasha’s faces.
Natasha takes Steve’s face in her hands and pulls him into a kiss that has his eyes widening in surprise, and before he can catch his breath Bucky has taken her place.
When he pulls away, Bucky and Natasha exchange high-fives, Steve is still breathless and a little dazed, Rhodey and Clint are both about two seconds from falling out of their chairs laughing, and Tony is openly sulking because the point was to make Steve blush and everyone else laugh, not for the entire team to make out with his boyfriend right in front of him.
…and that’s when Thor comes in. He pauses for a moment, takes in Steve’s shirt, Tony’s pout, Bucky and Natasha’s self-satisfied grins. And then, in true Thor style, pretends to not understand midgardian culture or jokes (which is bullshit and the whole team knows it at this point, but it doesn’t stop him) and actually lifts Steve out of his chair to plant one on him, even more thorough than Bucky and Natasha’s.
Tony refuses to let Steve wear the shirt out of the house.
listen……li sten……i Need to know….how many kisses have they had since that day in May? how many times have they been able to practice just the way they like to be kissed, mouths wet and slick and bruised, over and over until it became as natural as breathing, until they forgot what it was like to have ever lived without each other’s kisses, until they had memorized every soft fold and crease of each other’s lips…….
I really like the idea that Jack kisses Bitty silent sometimes not because he doesn’t like hearing Bitty babbling, but the exact opposite. I like to think that once Bitty gets going, Jack is half mesmerized and can’t help but lean forward and steal a kiss, one that often ends up going a lot longer than expected, and leaves them a bit breathless. Jack just loving the fact that he gets to listen to Bitty talk like this, that he gets to soak up his presence and feel his warmth, and god does he love that sweet drawl that comes out of his boyfriend’s mouth.
Also, Jack can’t decide if he likes Bitty’s voice or his kisses more. If he had to choose between them, he’d probably combust.