#i told him that i do this a volunteer year and he was like cool and that he really likes it too

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon Riley! Who technically had the ring picked out as soon as he started babysitting Oliver

Simon Riley! Who nearly jumped out of his skin when you came in from getting the mail with the box from his grandmother, that contained said ring

Simon Riley! Who spent the last two and half years of dating perfectly planning the moment, even had plans B and C on backburner

Simon Riley! who told johnny about the plan and his buddy happily volunteered to take photos (he tried to talk him out of it he swears it)

Simon Riley! Who even asked your son if it would be okay to marry you (the answer was yes duh)

Simon Riley! Who knew knew it would all go perfectly, after all with all that planning-

"Olly said you want to be his dad."

The sound of your voice that would normally send peace and a sense of warmth through him caused his blood to run cold and he slowly turns from where he was currently working on building a dog house (a puppy is what you and he chose to get Olly for his fourth birthday), he looks up at you as you stood on the porch, a confused look upon your face and arms crossed. He had to play this cool, he could do this- "Whaaat?" Shit. "Now why would the lad-"

"Simon."

"Yes, mam."

You walk over to him where he stood in the backyard and you hum, "You get four seconds to tell me why my little boy is getting his hopes up about having a dad again, when you know full well-"

"I'm going to marry you."

To be honest, you were a little taken back, Simon had never seemed like the marrying type and you had spent the last two years trying to convince yourself you were alright with that. So you gulp down and look up at him, "You...what?"

"I have-Fuck- a plan, I have a plan and it was goin to be like tho' movies you make me watch tha' I hate- was gonna make it nice but-I'm goin to marry you an' I wan'a make sure Olly is alright with it."

There came the silence and you bite back the largest smile you swore you would ever have, "Y...you wanna marry me?"

"More than I want to breathe."

"Oh, then I guess I better say yes so you don't die, huh?" Your words were to distract yourself from crying and you pull him down for a brief kiss, "I still want the pretty proposal and the getting down on one knee."

Simon, who reasonably was a bit confused, blinked and then meets your gaze, his hands going to yours, "Are you sayin' Yes?" When he saw your nod he happily moved his hand to your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "You'll get your pretty proposal, the flowers, and the photos, and I'll make it perfect, love, I'll make it perfect."

Here's what Johnny's photos looked like BTW (he tried)

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Okay, so vampire Eddie is a pretty standard trope at this point, but may I offer...Twilight vampire Eddie who is absolutely pissed off about his sparkly existence?

Eddie actually isn't that old, he was turned in the 80s when he was around 20. He lives with his small and not only vampire family. There's patriarch Wayne, his partner Scott who always becomes a teacher no matter where they move, Claudia Henderson and her son that have been with them ever since Scott noticed Dustin being unusually quiet in his class and soon after, Wayne kicked out his abusive father.

The problem with living with a smart man who loves educating people and a man who never received the education he deserved is - they take school really, really seriously. Whenever they move, Eddie usually has to re-join high school, it's all "just so that you have some socialization! Also we need to be able to blend in, so look around and see what's normal with young people! Also I'm pretty sure some of the stuff we know is now obsolete or disproven, so make sure to tell us!". And Eddie loves Wayne and Scott, he really does, but he had trouble blending in even when he was alive, so now? Impossible. As for gathering information, Eddie has been trying for decades to explain to Wayne that even if becoming a vampire healed the wounds from the lynching mob, it didn't do shit for his ADHD, so there. Wayne finds Eddie banging his head into a desk one day and chanting "WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-TIK-TOK?!"

So yes, Eddie hates being a forever highschooler, but it also means he can run DnD clubs everywhere he joins and he's not even lynched for it like in the 80s, so hey, progress! He gets mostly content with his existence, except that he's fucking sparkly and can't turn into a bat, so what's the point?!

But then a huge group of people moves from the close town of Hawkins, they had a really fucked up earthquake - Wayne told him all about it, he often volunteered in rescue and high risk works, and he's never seen anything like it - and their little town becomes way more crowded. There are high school freshmen just begging to be introduced to his club, Hellfire, although one of them is scary observant and Eddie is really sure that Jane knows he's a vampire.

And then there's Steve Harrington. A young man with the prettiest hair ever who joined Eddie's class, apparently he needs to repeat the last year too because if your school burns down, you can't take final exams. He's stupidly pretty, snarky, bitchy, and even though he could be partying day and night and spending the rest of his time on dates, he prefers to hang around with the freshmen. Lucas tells him one day that Steve got badly hurt when he was digging through the collapsed middle school, finding and rescuing their whole group, and well...Eddie respects that. Dustin absolutely loves Steve and maybe Eddie feels a bit jealous, but he has to admit - the guy is cool.

The problem with Steve Harrington is this - he's seen so much shit that nothing really fazes him. Eddie loves shocking people. Steve is unshockable. It becomes their little game, they get close, Eddie realizes he has an embarrassing crush, all that jazz. He tries dropping hints, he slurps his bloody lunch from a bottle that has a "THIS IS DEFINITELY TOMATO JUICE AND NOTHING ELSE". He wears a cape. He adopts a horrible Dracula accent. Nothing works. Steve always just laughs and tells him that he's weird and that's why he likes him.

Finally, Eddie has enough. They walk in the woods to get high, Eddie decides to break the ice, he scoops up Steve, does his whole dashing-through-the-woods thing, and he hopes that he can finally share his secret with Steve.

Except Steve just pats his back and says "Wow, that was cool, man! You'd be amazing at track. Great core strength too," and Eddie's head implodes.

"Okay, Steve. Don't you think there's something rotten here?" he tries.

"I mean, it's the woods. Of course there's something rotting all the time."

Eddie tries again. "You've noticed something strange, haven't you. I'm inhumanly fast and strong."

"I sure didn't expect that! You must be secretly training. I didn't know this town had a gym."

Again. "My skin is pale white and ice cold."

Steve is watching a nearby squirrel instead of looking horrified. "Yeah, not all people tan great, Robin is like that too. And I told you, man. Your circulation is shit, you need better socks and some gloves too."

"My eyes change color."

"Yeah, I know, I do envy you that you can wear those cool contact lenses. My eyes are too dry for that."

Eddie is growing desperate, he's gesturing at the trees because Steve doesn't listen. "I speak like I'm from a different time."

"80s slashers will do that to you. You basically live on those. But I gotta admit that they're pretty fun. Oh look, she's got an acorn! Clever girl!"

"Very clever. Also I never eat or drink anything."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Some people prefer one or two meals in a day instead of the whole five meal thing."

Eddie feels like howling and he isn't even a werewolf. "I. DON'T. GO. INTO. THE. SUNLIGHT."

Steve's eyes finally leave the squirrel. "Duh. We've already established you can't tan."

And Eddie's had enough. He tears off his t-shirt, marches directly into the sunlight and throws the biggest tantrum of his life. "STEVEN HARRINGTON. PAY ATTENTION. I am 20. I have been 20 for a while now. You know what I am, right? I am a vampire. So ask me the question, what do we eat? That wasn't a fucking tomato juice Steven!!!"

Steve just watches him with quiet amusement, as if he's waiting for something.

Eddie doesn't notice. His monologue is reaching its most dramatic part. "I've killed people before! I'm the world's most dangerous predator!"

Steve snorts. "I saw you trip over your own feet in the cafeteria."

"Not the point!"

"You told a waitress "you too" when she told you to enjoy your meal."

Eddie actually howls now. "THE POINT IS." He spins in the sunlight and sees the reflections of light off his skin. "I wouldn't have minded becoming a vampire, but let me tell you. Being stuck in high school forever? Sucks. Craving chips and throwing them up whenever you try them? SUCKS. And thinking you've become the legendary creature of the night when you're a glorified glitter mascot?! And you can't even fly?! DOUBLE SUCKS."

He points at his bare glittering chest. "THIS THE SKIN OF A FUCKING DISCO BALL, STEVE!"

Steve just laughs and gets up from the tree stump he was sitting on. "Thanks for sharing. I was kinda hoping you'd finally ask me out since this is the first time we've had some privacy, but this was interesting too."

Eddie's sharing mania suddenly stops. He realizes he's shirtless in the middle of the forest, and his yelling has scared off the squirrel. He promptly grabs his shirt and puts in on. "Um. You...you wanted me to ask you out? Because I totally want to do that. Yep. But I thought it would have been unfair to ask you before I told you-"

"That you're a vampire? Dude, I know."

Eddie blinks once. Then again. "Excusemewhat?"

Steve smiles at him and touches his hand. "Look. After what happened in Hawkins, I know the smell of blood. I knew it wasn't tomato juice. Also I've accompanied the kids to enough monster flicks to know."

"Oh." Eddie licks his lips and doesn't really know what to say. "Um. What...does that mean for us?"

Laughing, Steve grabs his other hand too. "Definitely two things. One - you can and should kiss me. Two - you can stop wearing that cape. I got your point."

"Oh okay. Cool. Will do. Both."

And since Eddie Munson is a vampire of his word, he does.

(Wayne is absolutely delighted that Eddie is dating, he watches sports with Steve and discusses the pros and cons of Steve becoming a paramedic. Scott helps Steve with some of the subjects he's struggling with. In return, Steve works with Robin to find a makeup brand that is fully sparkleproof, giving the vampires a chance to walk in the sunlight again. And sometimes, he helps them answer the questions that have been plaguing the Munson-Clarke-Henderson household for years...such as: what is TikTok?)

(oh and also. Turns out Steve really thought Eddie was wearing creepy contact lenses. That one aspect of vampyrism he found very cool)

[readychilledwine]

Hello. First of all thank you for that post, it amazing and no one has ever responded. I would like you to write another story of az where they have a child and she and her child get kidnapped. And she dies trying to the child. Az goes bolistic. (If u don't want the reader to die it's cool with me. Whatever u think is best). Thank u and have an amazing day ahead.

Eeeeee. This made little pregnant brain go meeeeep. I kind of changed it up. I didn't want to actively kill the reader, because I can't imagine Azriel ever pulling himself back together after that. I just imagine if Azriel found someone he loved enough to have a child with, it would devastate him. So. I put a spin on it. if I squeeze my eyes shut really tight, I can create a world where he finds a mate and heals with her, but that wound would always be there, and that creates angst. So this is loosely based on the aftermath of your request. I'm sorry it isn't perfect.

Replacement

Warnings - trauma, mention of torture, Az being kind of an ass.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

The words echoed in your mind. You aren't his mother! Azriel had screamed them at you so carelessly. Just because Xiden had come to you for a booboo. Just because Xiden had called you "mommy" and Azriel had heard it. How dare you seriously think you can replace her? What the fuck is wrong with you?

You loved your mate's son. You loved that little illyrian more than you could form into words. Shock had fallen into your own bones after he called you mommy and kissed your cheek, though. That wasn't a threshold you had meant to cross. It was an unspoken line in the sand. You were not his mother, and Azriel had managed to remind you quickly and make you feel so small over one word uttered by a child.

Your relationship with the two started a few years ago. You were Nyx and Xiden's private nanny. Rhysand had met you once in a volunteer childcare center. The two of you had talked about everything you had found important in raising little ones, and the High Lord brought you to his mate instantly. They had been looking for childcare whose values aligned with theirs for weeks, and Feyre, with tears of relief in her eyes, hired you on the spot and made a pay offer you would have been stupid to turn down.

You spent time with the two young boys constantly. You three would spend countless hours giggling. Your life ranged from cooking with them, playing with them, snuggling them, and doing basic school lessons with them, but mostly teaching them how to be good fae, teaching them right from wrong, showing them how to love and respect themselves and others.

Nyx was wonderful. You adored the little heir. But there was something about the way Xiden would hold your hand when you three would go for walks, the way he constantly searched for your approval. You can't remember if it was the first night he ran to your guest room on an extended care stay and buried himself so deep into your arms and pillows that made you love him, or if it was the solstice gift he drew of you, him, and Nyx that hung framed in your living room that sealed the deal, but you loved Xiden. Unconditionally and unexpectedly.

You had finally asked Feyre one night about his mother when she came over to bring you a birthday gift from the Inner Circle and the boys. Azriel had appeared after she told you gently Xiden's mother had died. He had the little male in tow. He had his wings tucked in so tight around him and his little footie pajamas and that made your heart tighten as he ran to you. 

The bond snapped for Azriel as you were kneeled down, holding his son and comforting him. It snapped for you when you woke up to the male shirtless in your kitchen, making breakfast for the three of you after Xiden refused to leave.

There was no going back after that. Xiden had a room at your apartment now. You had things in their home. You and Azriel told each other everything. Well, almost everything. He still had not told you about his former love or where she was.  Xiden had done it late one night after another screaming fit woke him up and had him crawling into bed with you.

I watched momma die, you had tried to tell him it was just a bad dream. But when his eyes met yours and he shook his little head, you shattered into pieces. I watched it, miss y/n. I watched them hurt momma.

You had approached Azriel about it gently, holding his hand as he closed you out. You didn't push the issue at all, knowing he'd tell you when he was ready to. You had, however, pushed for him to enroll Xiden into therapy with Madja.

That was almost 8 months ago now, though. Tonight had been the breaking point. It stung, knowing the male you adored had all but dismissed his son's feelings, and your own, without giving you a single explanation of why. You had left his home in silence despite him calling for you. You had shielded yourself for the time and sealed the bond so deeply into your heart that you couldn't feel him, and he couldn't feel you. 

You curled deeper into the bed, holding your blanket tight against yourself as you cried. You had no interest in replacing Xiden's mom. You never set that as a goal in this relationship. You just wanted to love Azriel, love his son. You wanted to support them, be there for them. 

A loud knock came at your door, and you ignored it. Then another, more insistent than the next, and finally, your door just opened. You knew it was him, that he had picked the lock. He made his way to your bedroom, opening the door without knocking and moving to sit on the bed next to you. 

"I'm sorry, y/n," his hand found your hip as he tried to get your attention. "I lashed out, and I shouldn't have. It's just- It's hard. Knowing she should be here, but isn't."

"I never wanted to replace her, Az. I never asked to fill that role." You voice sounded as broken as you knew it would. Hours of crying finally had begun to show damage.

"I know, love. I know."

"You won't even tell me what happened to them. All I can do is offer him whatever I can based on what I know, and then i get yelled at for it. How can I comfort him, help him, and support him when I don't know the full story. How can I support YOU when I don't even know what happened?"

His jaw tightened as he looked at you. He had been avoiding this conversation for too long, and now it had come to a head. "When Xiden was 4, he and his mother were visiting her parents in Illyria without my knowledge." Azriel looked up, blinking tears away as his throat grew tight. "I had made a few enemies in the camp they went to, and they took them. It took us 3 weeks to find them and track them down. By time we got there, she was gone. Xiden was.." His jaw tightened again. "He was traumatized. He had watched them rape, beat, and torture his mother for weeks. He was starved, sleep deprived, and disassociated from us completely. I only added to that trauma by slaughtering every single male in that place without thinking about the fact that he was right there."

"He wouldn't let me touch him for weeks. He ran to Rhys and Cassian instead of me. And it killed me." Azriel was biting his lip, shadows stilled and wrapped around him as his wings also pulled in. "I will never forget her lifeless eyes, her body, her bruised face. I will never forget my son's broken mind and soul. I will never forgive myself for what happened to them."

You sat up, running a hand up and down his back and between his wings. "It wasn't your fault, Az. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

He broke then, sobbing out a gentle I know as he broke down. "I just don't want him to forget her, how much she loved him, how much she sacrificed for him."

"He won't," you said firmly. "He never will. He's six, Az. He remembers his momma. He knows I am not her." Azriel nodded. "Az, you need to forgive yourself. You can't move forward, and Xiden can't move forward, with this cloud hanging here." Another silent nod as he leaned further into your touch. "You need to give yourself permission to be happy, to move on, and to take care of him without being scared of the world."

"It's just so hard," you nodded this time, kissing between his shoulder blades. "I loved her so fucking much."

"I know. Her picture is still up in your office. I make sure to dust it every day. You also have some of her dresses still. A few of her blankets." His shoulders fell, guilt flooding the now empty bond. "Don't," you whispered. "Don't feel guilty for loving the mother of your child. Don't feel guilty for wanting to honor her memory." 

"Please come back." Azriel sounded broken at the confession he was about to make. "He can't sleep when you aren't there." You nodded, grabbing a bag to pack an outfit for tomorrow. 

Azriel watched you moving through the room in silence. "I wanted to talk about you moving in," you froze on the spot. "Or us finding somewhere for the 3 of us."

"Az-"

"I fucked that up, though, didn't I?" You shook your head, rushing to him and throwing yourself onto him and the bed. "Or maybe I didn't?"

"Of course I want to move in with you two." Your response was muffled into his neck. You could feel his smile grow. 

"Perfect." He said.

"Perfect." You agreed. 

[laurenairay]

Lately you've been on my mind - E. Pettersson

I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston’s winter fic exchange, with an Elias Pettersson story for @typical-simplelove! I really hope you enjoy this Claudia– I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me, and I was just so inspired that I wrote it all in one day! And thank you Demi, for being a sounding board for me as I put together my ideas.

Summary: Brock Boeser is the ultimate match maker – he knows he is. And he is determined to set his friends up.

a.k.a. you and Elias are both friends with Brock, and keep finding yourselves in moments alone.

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: idiots to lovers, self-doubt, Brock is a meddler

Title from: Adore you, by Harry Styles

~

2019 was already shaping up to be a fantastic year. The sun was shining brightly, the January air was crisp and cold, and you had Spanish Banks dog park essentially to yourself, seeing that it was excruciatingly early in the morning.

But damn if the views of the North Shore mountains weren’t worth it. Your dog seemed to agree, with the way he was running up and down the sand. You’d lived in Vancouver all your 20 years so far, still living with your parents where you’d decided not to go to university, and it was moments like this that reminded you just how fortunate you were.

Your peace and quiet lasted for all of another half an hour before you heard enthusiastic barking from behind you. Recalling your dog to your side – which only took a couple of attempts, which was an improvement – you turned your head to see what was coming your way, only to freeze at the guy you saw walking towards you.

A guy that was clearly the up-and-coming star of your family’s favourite sports team, the Vancouver Canucks. Brock Boeser, in the flesh.

“Hey, sorry for interrupting your quiet.”

His smile tightened slightly when he realised you clearly knew who he was, with whatever your face was doing, but you quickly shook your head to reassure him. No, he was here just the same as you, to walk his dog. You could be cool with that.

“It’s a beautiful off-leash park – it would be a shame not to share it,” you shrugged, smiling back at him.

Brock immediately relaxed, easy a tension you didn’t realise you had.

“Who’s this beautiful pup, hm?”

“This is Bailey. I’ve had him, like, three months now? He’s only 18 months old so he’s still learning not to jump up, but he tries his best,” you mused.

“He’s perfect…”

Yes, Brock was definitely a dog person.

“…a border collie, right?”

“Yeah that’s right. He was abandoned a few months ago at a shelter my mom volunteers at, and I barely had to beg her to let me adopt him,” you laughed.

Brock just grinned. “Coola was a rescue dog as well. I adopted him back in February last year, after the All Star Game, but he lived in Minnesota with my parents while I finished my rookie year. I know the feeling of not being able to resist a sweet little dog.”

At least he understood.

With a smile, you motioned for Bailey that he was allowed to run again, and within moments Coola was joining him, the two dogs playing in the surf.

“So, you live here then?”

You and Brock walked your dogs for nearly another hour, the two of you talking like you’d known each other all your lives, before Bailey flopped at your feet, a clear sign he was done and ready to leave.

“Looks like that’s my cue,” you said dryly, making Brock laugh.

“Definitely,” he teased, “but hey, maybe we could exchange numbers? I’d love to walk Coola with you and Bailey again, now that I know they’re friends.”

You hesitated slightly, unsure whether he actually meant that, but the earnestness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“Sure, I’d like that. Bailey could use all the friends he could get,” you mused.

Brock just grinned.

“I don’t know, I have a feeling we’re going to be pretty good friends as well.”

~

Nearly five years on and you were (somehow) genuine friends with Brock. He’d been right, against all odds. There was just something about his straightforward friendship that made your life that little bit easier, knowing that you could rely on him to be a breath of fresh air, no drama. And you knew he appreciated your chilled approach to pretty much everything, never judging him, always his biggest supporter – both on the team and for him as a person. Brock Boeser was probably one of the best friends you’d ever had, and you cherished everything about him, like an older brother you didn’t realise you needed.

Brock had always insisted that you needed to be integrated into every part of his life, so you spent more time with his team than you ever thought you would (and hadn’t that been a starstruck moment, when you’d first attended a team gathering). He pretty much brought you to all gatherings, events, and anything to do with Coola (and now Milo), and while at first it had been overwhelming, you’d quickly adjusted when you realised just how ridiculous his teammates were.

So it wasn’t a surprise to Elias Pettersson when he walked into Brock’s house and saw you sitting on the sofa surrounded by dogs.

“Well this looks cosy.”

You grinned at his teasing words, waving him over. “It’s good to see you too, Elias.”

He shared a small private smile with you, lifting Milo’s legs to take a seat on the sofa next to you. The dog in question huffed out his displeasure but didn’t move, allowing Elias to settle in properly.

This guy, more than anyone else, was the teammate you enjoyed spending the most time with alongside Brock. Elias was definitely the most sane of all Brock’s Vancouver friends, and his dry sense of humour always had you in stitches. It was rare that he showed much of himself to anyone, as reserved as he was, but the more you’d gotten to know him over the years, the more you recognised the little signs of his reactions and collated them like hoarded treasure. And the more that Elias had gotten to know you, the more willing he seemed to be to share jokes and smiles and laughter with you, forging a friendship of your own.

And yes, sure, you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive – you’d be crazy or blind to think otherwise - but he’d never shown a hint of interest towards you in that way. And there was no way you’d ever say anything unless you were sure things were reciprocated (there was just no way), so you were more than happy to have him as a friend. Elias Pettersson was an unmistakeable joy in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin that.

He really was so handsome though.

“I’m surprised Brock isn’t buried under puppies like usual,” Elias said.

“We haven’t been long back from walking the dogs, so I said I’d get them settled while he showered and got ready to head out with you,” you explained, running your hand over your Bailey’s head.

“He does need to look pretty enough to leave the house, that’s true,” he mused.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the both of you knowing Brock needed no help in looking pretty, Elias just smiling widely.

It just goes to show how wrapped up you were in Elias’s attention that neither of you noticed Brock standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyes lighting up at your laughter and Elias’s smile.

~

It was early, far too early, but here you were fulfilling Bailey’s every need. You were wrapped up warm, puffer jacket, woollen hat, gloves, and scarf, walking your border collie through Hadden Park, allowing the travel mug of coffee to wake you up fully while you took in the views surrounding you. Bailey was in his element, trotting about and sniffing every single leaf and twig, and it was only your phone buzzing that broke you out of your silent contentment.

From: Brock Hey, are you walking Bailey?

To: Brock Yeah we’re at Hadden Park Wasn’t sure if you would be getting up early after your game last night so I didn’t text

From: Brock Hah yeah fair enough Do you mind if Petey comes along?

You tried not to fantasise about why Elias was so willing to join you both on a dog walk, so early on a day off. You tried so hard.

To: Brock Of course I don’t mind

From: Brock Of course?

You felt heat dancing across your cheeks. Damn it Brock.

To: Brock You know I think Petey is great.

From: Brock Well I definitely do now.

You groaned, already able to picture the smirk on your friend’s face.

To: Brock Don’t be dumb I’ll see you soon

The last thing you needed was Brock teasing you, especially in front of Elias. The last thing you wanted was Elias to feel uncomfortable around you, just because you find him attractive. The last thing you could bear would be if you lost your friendship with Elias just because Brock was reading into things that weren’t true.

But there was nothing you could do for damage control until Brock was in front of you. All you could hope was that he didn’t make you look like an idiot.

It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes before you saw the familiar pair walking towards you, dogs at Brock’s side, and you found yourself smiling despite your trepidation. You gave them both hugs in greeting, travel mug long empty and placed in your bag, Bailey barking happily.

“What a beautiful morning,” Brock said happily.

“Cold but beautiful, sure,” you mused.

Elias nodded his agreement, thick scarf wrapped in loops around him, Brock just laughing.

“Petey, you don’t mind taking Coola while I walk Milo, do you?” Brock asked.

Elias narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read into Brock’s words, but Brock just kept smiling at him.

“Sure, I can walk Coola,” Elias eventually said.

“Great!”

The moment that Coola’s leash was in Elias’s hands, Coola darted forward, Elias crashing directly into your body. It was only through his quick reflexes that you didn’t end up on your ass, his hands clutching at your hips while you clung to his jacket.

“Coola! Chill!”

Brock’s giggled words did little to calm his dog down, all three dogs dancing around your feet as Elias steadied you. His face was impossibly close to yours, breath practically mingling. How had you not realised how blue his eyes were before this? His lips were parted slightly, as if he was still processing, but it was only when Bailey bumped into both of your legs that he abruptly let you go, and you dropped your hands too.

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurted, stepping away sharply.

“No apologies needed. It wasn’t your fault,” you said, shaking your head with a weak smile.

“Aww you can’t blame Coola for being excited,” Brock grinned, kneeling down to give fuss to both his dogs.

There was something in his smile that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Hm.

“Shall we walk then, if they’re so excited?” Elias said dryly.

All three dogs started barking at the word ‘walk’, making you laugh and nod, Brock just grinning even wider.

~

From: Brock Petey is taking the roadtrip losses really hard. Come over tomorrow?

~

You don’t know what it was that possessed you, but the moment you received those texts from Brock, you knew you had to do something. Elias was such a stoic guy, so reserved in his emotions, so the fact that it was obvious enough he was suffering that Brock asked for your help? There was no way you weren’t going to do everything in your power to ease any tensions they had, especially Elias.

There wasn’t much you could do, but you could do this.

When you arrived at Brock’s house the next morning, you were only mildly startled to see Elias opening the door instead of Brock, his eyes flashing in surprise before he smiled.

“Did Brock not say I was coming over?” you said hesitantly.

The last thing you wanted was to intrude.

“He said we were going for brunch, but this is a welcome surprise,” Elias said, smiling softly.

Oh. Now you felt stupid.

Wait, a welcome surprise?

“I don’t know what is making your face do that, but I’m not lying when I say it’s good to see you,” Elias said firmly.

“Alright, I believe you,” you mused.

Elias just grinned, walking over to the bottom of the staircase.

“SHE’S HERE!”

“GOOD! YOU’RE COMING FOR BRUNCH, RIGHT?”

You rolled your eyes fondly at Brock’s assumptions. It wasn’t like you had much else planned for today, but still!

“YEAH I’LL COME!”

Elias laughed at your matching volume, making you smile back at him, a light flush dusting across your cheeks. His laugh was magical and you weren’t going to shame yourself for liking it.

“Brock’s just finishing his hair and then he’ll be down. That’s what he said anyway,” Elias explained, sitting down on the arm of Brock’s sofa.

“He’s got an image to maintain, can’t be looking anything less than perfect,” you teased, the familiar joke making you smile.

Elias just snickered, shaking his head. You leaned up against the back of the sofa, standing close enough to Elias that the blue of his eyes was almost hypnotising, before you remembered why you came over in the first place.

“It feels a little silly now, but I heard from a little bird that you were taking things a little rough, so here’s a little something,” you said.

“Brock needs to keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled.

You just laughed, reaching into your bag to pull out the gift. But as you placed it in his hands, Elias froze.

“What’s this?” Elias said, eyes wide in shock.

You bit your bottom lip, before letting out a shaky breath. Here goes nothing.

“You were having a bad day. So I made you a hat,” you said simply, trying to keep your voice light and airy.

“You made me a hat? You knitted this?”

Elias stared down in wonder at the soft light blue woollen bundle in his hand, a look of pure astonishment on his face. It was only then that you realised how close it was to the colour of his eyes.

“Uh, yes, I did? I got back into knitting recently, so it’s nothing fancy, but I just wanted to make something to cheer you up?” you said, trying not to cringe at yourself.

“No-one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

Your lips parted in surprise at his soft words.

“Really?”

“Really really,” Elias nodded.

“I’ve never had a hat made for me either.”

You flinched at the sound of Brock’s voice coming from behind you, Elias immediately scowling over your shoulder.

“Wouldn’t want to cover up your Prince Charming hair,” Elias grumbled, shoving the hat into the pocket of his hoodie.

You didn’t mention the dark blue hat you’d knitted for Brock that was tucked into your bag. Brock pouted as you snickered, slinking into the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Look, I know it’s not really my place. And that we’re just friends because of Brock. But these losses were just a bad blip – you’re going to get over them in no time at all, and be back to destroying the other teams like you were born to,”

Elias smiled wryly. “It doesn’t feel like that right now. But thanks.”

You pursed your lips briefly before huffing out a breath. Telling him what you really thought was hardly the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done.

“You make me so proud. You know that, right?”

“What?” Elias frowned.

“You go out there, every single day, and give this team, this city, your all. Your pour yourself into everything that you do, always give 100%, and as your friend, as someone who has known you for years…I am so proud of you.”

As your cheeks heated from your words, Elias swallowed heavily, a flush dusting across his own cheeks.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this, to deserve your kind words, but I appreciate it. Thank you,” he murmured.

Your heartbeat raced at the intensity in his eyes.

“Brunch? Can we go?”

Elias scowled again at Brock’s grinning interruption but walked away towards the front door. You were read to grumble at Brock yourself, until you saw Elias pull the knitted hat out of his pocket and slide it on over his hair. It looked…perfect.

“Are you good?” Brock asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m great.”

Your voice was far breathier than you would ever admit.

*

Another month, another team event. This time Brock had invited you to be his plus one to a formal gala, hardly the first time he had asked and yet this time he practically begged you to come along. You didn’t need him to beg, you could admit that much – the events were always fun and hey, you got to dress up nicely – but his behaviour was strange, even for him.

Either way, Brock had looked ecstatic when you said yes, even going as buying you a gorgeous midnight blue evening gown, sleeveless and high-necked, as classy as it was beautiful, so you were going to complain. He could have his secrets – you knew you’d get it out of him eventually.

He picked you up after you’d gotten your hair and nails done, make-up subtle but elegant, wide smile on his face as he drove the two of you to the event. You didn’t have time to be suspicious about his good mood as the two of you greeted his teammates and their better halves, your attention consumed by all the cheek kisses and compliments, but you should’ve known he was up to something. Because the moment that the two of you joined Elias at a table with a few chairs around it, Brock all but disappeared, leaving the two of you completely alone.

“Hi Brock. Bye Brock,” Elias said dryly.

“I have no idea what’s gotten into him tonight, I am so sorry,” you sighed.

“Hey, no, don’t apologise for him. I’m sorry that he’s abandoned you already,” Elias said, frowning.

“Well at least I’m near a chair,” you said, huffing out a laugh, “High heels are not my friends.”

Elias immediately pulled a chair out for you to sit on, and you felt a gentle heat brush across your cheeks at the gentlemanly action.

“Thanks Elias,” you said, more shocked than anything.

Not too shocked to smile at him as he sat down right next to you, after picking up a couple of flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. If he wanted to join you…well, you weren’t going to complain. Not if you got his attention all to yourself.

It can’t have been more than an hour before Brock wandered back over, but by the flush on his cheeks and the glassiness of his eyes, he was more than a little tipsy. Damn it Brock.

“You’re not going to ask this beautiful woman to dance, Petey?”

Elias immediately blushed furiously, eyes narrowing at his friend, making you want to die a little inside – but also to shield him.

“Oh no, these heels are killing my feet already. Elias is just being kind enough to keep me company,” you said sweetly.

Brock snickered, shaking his head, but walked away without any further pestering. You both sat there for a moment in silence, reeling from the short conversation. What the hell was that, Brock?

“You didn’t have to make up a lie to defend me,” Elias said, finally looking at you again.

“I wanted to.”

The mortification that filled your body upon your blurted words was immediate and all-consuming, especially with how surprised Elias looked. How could you save this? How the hell could you save this?

“Besides it’s the least I could do for Brock dumping me on you in the first place,” you said coolly, shrugging, trying to calm yourself down and failing miserably.

Elias hesitated before something flashed across his face, and he looked at you with an expression you’d never seen from him before. It made you shiver. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Oh.

Oh.

He…really?

You’d spent so long convinced that he didn’t see you that way, that he wasn’t attracted to you in the slightest, and now that he’d said this? Giving you enough to let yourself hope, to admit to yourself that your sweetest daydreams and deepest fantasies could actually be reality?

While your mind raced, full of swirling realisations that perhaps things weren’t so unrequited after all, Elias just watched you, expression just as intense as before. It wasn’t until you let out a shaky breath, smiling a tiny smile at him, that he nodded, clearing his throat.

“Another drink?”

“Yes, definitely.”

*

Movie nights were sacred. It didn’t matter who they were with, not really, but now that you had your own tiny apartment, a night in watching your favourite movies and eating your favourite snacks was always the best way to unwind. Usually Brock was your only companion, or Brock with a few of his teammates, and that was the plan tonight. Brock and Elias were both joining you for a movie night and you couldn’t wait to have a chilled night in with two of your favourite people. Even if your whole world had been shaken up only last week at that eventful team gala.

The pizzas you’d ordered hadn’t long arrived before Elias arrived at your door, beers in hand, and you let him in with a happy smile.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, smiling shyly back at you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sweetness in his face, and you found yourself just nodding.

“You know you’re always welcome. Come on, pizza just got here too.”

Elias all but raced you to the kitchen, making you laugh as he opened the cardboard lids. But your phone buzzed before you could reach for a slice.

From: Brock I can’t make it tonight. Have fun. Both of you.

You heart started racing at his implications, knowing deep in your bones that Brock never intended to come this evening. Had he known all along, how you felt about Elias? And how you hoped Elias felt for you too?

Surely not.

But then again, Brock always surprised you. You had always tried not to underestimate your friend, but it appeared that you’d fallen for that sweet innocent smile just the same as everyone else.

“Is Brock on his way?”

“Brock isn’t coming.”

“Oh.”

Elias seemed to hesitate, making you inhale sharply.

“Did you want to reschedule?” he asked, wincing.

You could be brave, right? Or at least take a step towards bravery?

“You’re already here…so we can still have our own movie night?” you suggested, unable to stop yourself from chewing your bottom lip.

Elias’s eyes flickered down quickly towards your mouth, before he cleared his throat and smiled softly at you. “Yeah, of course we can. Also means we don’t have to listen to Brock whining that we aren’t watching one of his rom com choices.”

The dryness of his tone made you giggle, immediately cutting through the lingering awkward tension. You could absolutely do a movie night just with Elias. You could absolutely handle being alone with him like this.

Absolutely.

The two of you ploughed through the pizzas while you watched one of you go-to action movies, laughing and talking all the way through, even finishing the popcorn and a couple of beers each by the time the credits were rolling. Bailey had happily sat by your feet the whole time, actually behaving himself for once, and you couldn’t remember a time when you’d felt so content. So relaxed and happy. Brock had always brought that out in you, and now that Elias had too? It just filled you with butterflies in the best way.

“Shall we watch another?”

“Definitely,” you nodded, smiling up at him.

Elias smiled easily back. “You choose? I’ll clear up.”

Before you could protest or even help him, Elias had picked up both pizza boxes and all the empty beer bottles, leaving you alone on the sofa. You heard him opening the trash can, snapping you out of your surprise, so you started scrolling through Netflix again, eventually deciding on a light-hearted comedy just as Elias re-entered the room. Bailey had trotted out to his own bed when Elias left, so it really was just the two of you now.

Something that made your breath hitch in your throat was the way that Elias sat down closer to you this time. Unmistakably closer, close enough to feel the heat from his body and to smell his cologne. He did that on purpose, there was no doubt about it. But his face gave you no answers, nothing more than his usual smile around you, so you let it go. Overthinking things was definitely not the way to go, you knew that much.

It didn’t make your heartrate calm down at all though.

You pressed play to get the movie started, lightly tossing the tv remote onto your coffee table before settling back into the sofa, letting the familiar introduction wash over you.

It took ten minutes for everything to change.

Elias wasn’t a big hugger. You knew this. Brock knew this. The whole of the Vancouver Canucks knew this. So when you felt a pressure along your shoulders, you tried not to flinch, realising it was his arm stretching across the back of the sofa when his hand lightly brushed your opposite shoulder. Elias…Elias had put his arm around you. He’d put his arm around you? You glanced up at him, trying to get any sense of his thought process, but his eyes were resolutely glued to the television, his body a frozen line of tension. All over again, your heart started racing. You were right after all. Maybe…maybe Elias really did have feelings for you, just as he’d finally hinted at the team event, and now he was making a gentle move in the most Petey way ever.

The ball was in your court.

Ever so slowly, you relaxed against under his arm, sinking into his side, head resting on his chest. You could hear just how fast his own heart was racing and it made you smile, feeling giddy that he was just as affected as you were, even more so when his arm draped around you properly. This was really happening. Elias Pettersson had really instigated snuggling with you on the sofa. This was better than any dream you could’ve imagined.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking your eyes open. The sky outside was pitch black, the curtains still wide open, and the Netflix landing page was glaring bright. But the main thing you noticed? You were curled up against Elias’s side still, head resting on his chest, his arm having fallen down to your waist and his head lolling back on the sofa. You’d fallen asleep together? Was there anything more cliché than that? Still, it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with how right it felt to be in Elias’s hold. His hands were so large and so warm, the heat spreading through the contact on top of your sweatpants. His chest was so solid and calming under your cheek. And as you lifted your head, ever to slightly to look at him properly, even just through the light from the TV he looked so handsome. Beautiful and peaceful. But there was no way that could be comfortable for him, and the last thing you wanted was for an aching neck to put a damper on what was the perfect evening.

So you lightly rested your hand on his chest, shaking him gently until you heard him grunt in displeasure.

“Hey, Elias, we fell asleep on the sofa,” you murmured.

He immediately groaned, making you laugh softly, smiling at him as he finally lifted his head.

“I was having such a good dream,” he grumbled.

Then he seemed to freeze as he realised where he actually was, taking note of how you were still tucked into his side, and where his arm and hand were holding you.

“Damn it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Hey, no, we both fell asleep eh?” you said, interrupting with a smile and a shake of your head, “It’s fine, Elias. We were both cosy.”

He swallowed heavily before nodding.

“I don’t think I’ve ever fallen asleep on the sofa with someone before,” he mumbled, “It was…nice.”

You felt your cheeks heating up with the gentle compliment, your smile letting him know you felt the same.

“I should go,” he said softly.

No!

Well, now was your moment. Now was the time to be brave where you’d never needed to be so brave before. After everything that had been building between the two of you…now was the moment.

“Or, maybe you could stay, and we could talk in the morning,” you offered as calmly as you could.

You felt Elias inhale sharply where your hand was still resting on his chest.

“The kind of talk that I’ve been wanting to have for a while?” he asked, hope evident in his eyes.

Oh wow.

For a while?

You felt like you were floating as his words sunk in.

“Yeah I think we’re on the same page,” you murmured, your blood thrumming with possibility.

The smile that spread across Elias’s face made your heart soar, and you found yourself smiling just as widely back. And when he leant forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead, you’d never felt more alive.

You could only imagine Brock’s satisfied grin when you told him.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 2 Group A Match 1

expand for propaganda ↓ (wall of text warning)

Thom Yorke:

"what other musician has a five minute compilation of his moans on stage ? yeah? no one? i thought so. vote thom yorke for my well being"

"He wrote all I need. (sexiest song ever written)"

"He made out with BOTH of the Greenwood brothers (damn)"

"Three Radiohead albums are on the top 10 highest rated album of all time, therefore his cock is massive"

"Vote him please or I will cry - microwave anon"

"I actually do have a locket with his face in it. I wear it everywhere 🙂"

"He was too hot in his Pablo Honey era cant change my mind🗣️🗣️🗣️"

"I just love him so much. He's such a cutie I want to put him in my pocket and take him with me everywhere :)"

"He wrote Spectre (sexy)"

"https://youtu.be/0YuENQZTV0k?si=EM9dx5Ye0bX6Xa4a"

"He would never evade his taxes like SHAKIRA DID."

"I want to meet thom yorke in a a record store where our eyes meet for a split second and we each notice what section the other is looking through and although neither of us is brave enough to start a conversation with the other we go home and fall asleep dreaming of what might have happened if we had gotten up the courage to talk to that cute person in the store and get to know them. I need him so bad it’s appalling"

"He's really cool!! He has had great character development over the years too if you're into that sort of thing. He has a really beautiful soul"

"gotta support grampa"

"hws so fine i want to turn him into a keychain so i can dangle him from my purse & jingle him whenever km bored… i will breath on him until it fogs all over then wipe him with a cloth to keep him clean Like a pair of glasses"

"If he wins I will create the most beautiful victory art you could ever imagine. (My 6th grade graphic design class will finally come in handy)"

"he's got that disease steez hes a flotsam fairy, you can sling him around like those stretchy hands you get in the quarter machine, he'll get mad for a minute but its fine"

"https://pin.it/1v99xvI"

"https://pin.it/4nvY08s"

"Has the voice of an angel"

"I had a dream once that I saw him and Jonny Greenwood walking down the street. I walked up to them and told them how much Radiohead meant to me and asked Thom if he could sign my Pablo Honey CD I had on me for some reason and he pushed me into open traffic and I got hit by a car and died. Jonny laughed. 10/10 dream got killed by Thom Yorke"

"He made Let Down in 1997. Shakira could never"

Shakira:

"ITS SHAKIRA SHAKIRA. le lo lo le lo le??? guys come on. do u even care about latinas."

"Shakira is genuinely hotter than most people on earth, so."

"No one else sounds like Shakira. No one else moves like Shakira. (Whether you think that's a compliment or not is up to you.)"

""is anyone even voting for Shakira" ME. I AM."

"She gives me huge Stacy's mom vibe. Like I'd come over to my friend's house not to hang out with them but to talk to their mom about how her divorce makes her feel and so I volunteer to help around the house or anything she needs. I'll take the task of cleaning out the attic with the black widows I'll mow the lawn on a hot summer day so she can offer me a cold drink for my hard work. Sorry I got lost in thought but she was part of my lesbian awakening and I will not take any Shakira slander"

"Shakira literally made me a lesbian <3"

[auteurdelabre]

I don’t know if you take requests but I love your writing and I’m dying for a slow burn in post outbreak Jackson. Joel and fem reader strangers to friends to eventual lovers. Reader is in love with Joel from the beginning and is like him strong silent type but with a heart of gold. Lots of pinning and then a surprise when it turns out Joel pines for her too and Tommy and Ellie know that he loves her. Maybe some jealousy thrown in before soft dom Joel to sub reader smut. Then a snippet of them together after confession of love so you can hear what other towns folk think about them. Anyway, if you don’t take asks that’s totally cool and I look forward to reading whatever you write! :)

EDIT: I DID THE DAMN THING.

rating: 18+

words: 4.1k

a/n: I hope you like this @ashleyfilm.

Joel’s Eyes

The autumn chill of Jackson City winds around the sleepy hamlet nestled snugly within the Wyoming landscape.  The open window allows a breeze to ruffle the blankets on the end of the bed, your body moving rhythmically over his. He holds you by the hips, fingertips dimpling your flesh as you ride him; thighs spread wide and whimpers falling like snow over his body. His dark eyes stay fixed on you, his smile gentle as he encourages you to keep going.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “You keep goin’, baby. Just like that.”

It’s been three years since Joel and Ellie arrived and set up their permanent home. A snug rancher with a garage for Ellie to convert to her teenage heart’s content.  Three years since his lie to her that still sat somewhere wedged behind his sternum, but a lie he could ignore over drinks at the Tipsy Bison or hours spent carving in his shed out back.

It’s been eleven months since you arrived with your brother and his husband to Jackson. Living in the Denver QZ was nothing compared to the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. The food was plentiful, the community kind and warm.

Your brother Anthony gripped Hank’s hand a little tighter as they were shown one of the available houses on Magnolia Street. A sweet little spot with two bedrooms and bright windows. Maria and Tommy mentioned that there was another space for you as well if you wanted to look at it, a one bedroom one street over. You’d been thrown at the concept, having lived with your brother your entire life.

You didn’t want that to change. You didn’t trust the bright endless sky above you. Didn’t trust the neighbors that smiled without sharp fangs. It didn’t  feel quite real to ask for bread and not have to give a part of yourself in return. You were wary of everything.

The first night you watched the moon rise from the window of your very own bedroom with its soft bedding and firm pillows. Despite the comfort of your surroundings there was an ache, a loneliness you couldn’t understand.

You were out of the house most days, feeling like a burden to your brother and his endlessly patient husband. It made you seek out Maria and ask where you could volunteer your time in a quiet voice. You needed to give back to this place that gave you plentiful nutritious food and a warm bed.

She’d been eager to show you the different spots in town; the kitchen, the old church, the textile room, the library. You wanted to see everything, barely speaking, and all big eyes on the landmarks she pointed out with Tommy’s hand in hers.

“These are the stables,” she told you as you ambled after them. “They get taken care of by those that do the patrols.”

You nodded as you glanced around the large space, eyes falling on the different colored horses inside. Many were leaning over the wooden gates, eager at the new faces and hoping for a treat. One with a diamond pattern on its forehead intrigued you into reaching a hand out to pet it.  It huffed warm air along your bare palm, its whiskers scouring lifelines for a nibble.  A husky voice accompanied shuffled boots in your direction.

“New patrolee?”

“Nah just showing her around,” Tommy’s voice replied.

You glanced over your shoulder to see a broad-shouldered man with warm but serious eyes and dark curls threaded with grey that fell just below his ears. The minute you saw him it was like Cupid himself came down to spear you brutally between the ribs. A sharp sting that sent you backwards a step, the breath knocked out of you.

A sensation wholly new to you overtook your body. The nerves that had been choking you suddenly dissipated, leaving you warm and strangely calm.

Joel gave you a sharp nod before heading into a pen marked “Glimmer”. Your eyes stayed on his frame until he receded from view. The mere sight of his soulful eyes had made your breathing come out in tiny huffs that gave Maria an amused pause.

“That’s Joel,” she offered casually, though her glance to Tommy was anything but. “His brother.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t offer more than that.

But you did come back to the stables the next day and the day after that. You brought in feed and mucked out stalls. You did this all with the same solemnity that was in your nature. You met new people but rarely offered your smile to them. You didn’t trust that it would be accepted or handled with care.  

But there was no Joel.

It wasn’t until you’d been doing it a week that you saw him again. He was guiding Glimmer into her pen and he looked exhausted. You had always kept to yourself out of the way, but something about Joel’s presence carried your feet in his direction. It made you hover near the pens and hold out your hand for the reins.

“I’ll take her,” you offered quietly.

 Joel moved by you, his eyes not casting in your direction, his attention all on the horse. Immediately you felt the sour sting of public humiliation. A teen girl had entered the space after Joel and she saw the altercation.

“Don’t be upset,” she said. “He’s like that with everyone after patrols. He’s just tired.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, cheeks still warm.

“I’m Ellie,” the girl said, brushing a hand down the horse’s ribs with a playful tilt of her lips. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ellie was funny and warm and she was Joel’s daughter. She told you bits and pieces of their past and you didn’t push for more. You were quiet and thoughtful and Ellie told her you reminded her of Joel. This though amused and then delighted you, stuck on the idea of some invisible connection between you and the taciturn man.

You didn’t know why you felt drawn to him, you simply did. Not for the protection he could bring, not because every woman in town seemed besotted with him, not because he was handsome. But because from that first day there had been something in his eyes that called to you and that you desperately wanted to answer. A feeling of peace that you hadn’t felt in years. Safety.

When you passed him in town you thought you saw a lingering glance in your direction, but you knew that it was an idea nursed in delusion. This was a one-sided affection but you didn’t mind. After years of bad relationships in the QZ and the terror of travelling, having a harmless crush felt fun. A concept that was foreign and yet welcomed.

So you watched Joel Miller from behind the pens when he brought Glimmer in after patrols. You watched him when he and Ellie ate in the dining hall together, Ellie cracking jokes while one corner of Joel’s pouty mouth curled into a smirk. You watched him help building the new homes in town and if your eyes connected it was always you who looked away first with your pulse spiking.

It was three months before you spoke to Joel again, this time a simple “excuse me” when you bumped into him at one of the movie nights. The film had ended and you’d been making your way through the crowd before he stopped suddenly in front of you. Your hands flew to his chest, warm and taut under your fingers. He responded with a soft grunt, hands coming to grip your elbows. His touch was fleeting before he was nodding and shifting past you into the crowd while your heart hammered in your ribcage.

It was five months before he spoke a full sentence to you. “Can you put her away?” in response to Glimmer. You’d nodded, still not trusting yourself to speak in his presence after the first interaction. When his fingers brushed yours to pass you the reins you felt it tingle through your entire body. You couldn’t look in his face, convinced he would see the way your pupils had turned heart-shaped because how could they not have done so?

You tried to find reasons to bring up Joel in conversation with your brother and Hank, desperate to learn more about him from someone other than Ellie. Did they know Joel Miller? Neither of them did. Anthony let a small smirk cross his features when you asked, but it was Hank that answered. 

“Don’t run in the same circles,” Hank shrugged.  “I hear he’s tough though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, good with a gun too.”

“Hmmm.”

That night you waited until the rest of the house was asleep before thrusting your fingers between your thighs. You brought yourself to a muffled yet toe-curling orgasm at the image of Joel, gun raised, protecting you.

It was six months of living in Jackson before Ellie had Joel’s hand in hers, dragging him over to where you sat eating breakfast in the dining hall alone. You’d been trying to covertly watch Joel while eating your pancakes and the ever receptive Ellie had obviously had enough.

“I thought it was time you two actually talked,” she said with an eye roll before stomping off. You felt your cheeks heating up, convinced that now everyone could see your obvious feelings for her Dad. Joel looked equally thrown, his eyes going everywhere but yours. Finally he cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“I’m Joel.”

“I know.”

You winced at both the breathy tone and the blunt of your reply. You introduced yourself, swallowing when Joel’s lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes finally landing on yours.

“I know.”

Then he’d walked off, sauntering away back to his table and your clamped your thighs together tightly under the table. He knew your name? You immediately inflated at the thought that he’d asked around about you before remembering that Ellie had probably told him. She was one of the few people you interacted with here in Jackson. Keeping to yourself felt safer.  But being in Joel’s eye line felt safest.

It was eight months when Joel sat next to you at the bar top of the Tipsy Bison. You had a bottle of something sickly sweet and potent in your grip. It was your third of that evening and you had moved from pleasant buzz all the way into the beginning stages of drunkenness.

Earlier that night Anthony and Hank had looked at you across the dining table with painted on smiles.

“Maria was saying that they’ve done a lot of building. You could probably get your own place if you wanted,” Anthony said it kindly, not insisting one way or the other. Hank smiled warmly over the dining table, but you saw the hope there in his eyes. A home for just them and you wanted to give them that. They deserved it.

You’d nodded emphatically, telling them of course and that the idea excited you when in truth the concept terrified you. Being alone all the time? You knew you were safe within this haven of a town, but there were still the nightmares.

But in that fear there was a thrill of the unknown. Of having a place to call your own. But who to share it with? You’d had the built in company of your brother and Hank. You knew next to no one in this town. No one made you feel safe except for the man you barely spoke to.

Your conversation with them drove you to the Bison, needing a distraction from your distress. When you glanced up to see Joel Miller sliding into the barstool beside you it had taken all your drunken self control not to confess that his eyes were the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. Dark brown, like warm molasses that you desperately wished would drip over you.

He ordered a whiskey, hands folded on the gleaming wood of the bar. He tilted his face in your direction as he waited to be served, a light smile on his lips as he spied the three empty bottles in front of you.

“You doin’ okay?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded at your sweating bottle, fingertip tracing over the trail of a fallen droplet. 

“Don’t see you around the stables much anymore.”

This surprised you, having assumed that Joel didn’t notice you one way or another. Up this close you could see the freckles on his neck, could smell the wood from his carvings (thanks Ellie for that info), and whatever scent made him uniquely Joel in your olfactory opinion.

“They moved me to kitchen duty.”

“Oh.”

He brought his drink to his lips and full of liquid courage a thought bubbled forth and turned into a question thrown at his feet.

“Why’d you ignore me the first time I talked to you, Joel?”

Joel’s brow quirked at that, not seeing the connection from one conversation topic to the next. Your cheeks burned at the memory of him walking by you, not even sparing a glance. Joel turned his broad body towards you, hand dangerously close to yours resting atop the wood bar top.

 “When was that?”

“That first day in the stables. I said I’d put Glimmer in the pen.”

Joel looked thoughtfully into middle distance, brows drawn.

“I didn’t even know you said anything. You talk so damn quiet.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mind it,” Joel told you quickly, his body twisting away as he continued drinking. “Everyone else is so loud around here.”

As it to emphasize such a statement a loud braying group of men guffawed over cards. You and Joel exchanged an amused look before going back to your respective drinks. The secret moment made you feel warm.  

You’d excused yourself quickly after that, tilting the remaining dregs of your beer into your mouth and then stumbling out of the bar. You’d just stepped out the door preparing for your journey home when you spotted Anthony looking harried.

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said with concern, jogging over to you. “Since when do you get drunk?”

“Decided to try it out,” you slurred, a sloppy grin bleeding across your face. “I like it.”

Anthony laughed before slipping an arm around your waist. You leaned into him, breathing in the crisp night air deeply as you two stumbled towards home.

“Why’re you here, Tony?”

 “You left so quickly earlier,” Anthony replied in a soft murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “I just need you to know that there’s no rush about the m-“

“Get your hands off her.”

You’d both turned, startled by the snarled shout coming from behind you.  Your bleary eyes took in Joel’s hand whipping out in front of him, gripping Anthony’s sweatshirt in his hand and hauling him away from you. With a drunken slur you tried to catch his attention, but Joel had already pressed Anthony up against the wood side of the building.

“Joel!” you shouted. “What’re-“

“She’s drunk,” Joel barked into Anthony’s face. “And you’re here tryin’ to make a move?”

“No!” Anthony shouted eyes wide with terror.

“You don’t get to touch her,” Joel growled and for the first time since you arrival you saw the ruthless killer people whispered about in his wake.

Anthony was up close to see the narrowing of Joel’s eyes, the baring of his teeth and he could only grip Joel’s wrist in supplication.

“She’s my sister!”

Joel’s gaze widened and then darted over his shoulder to yours for confirmation. All you could do was nod miserably as you watched Joel lower your brother to the ground as if he weighed nothing.

Before you could say anything to either party Joel had mumbled an apology and taken off into the night, his long legs slicing through the air.  You expect Anthony to be furious or at least scared, but as he brushes down his sweater he’s smiling at you.

“What?”

“So that’s Joel.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged with embarrassment. Anthony was almost laughing.

“He likes you.”

Your head rose abruptly from where you’d had it hung over your sternum. “He doesn’t.”

“He does. He was all protective of you.”

“He doesn’t,” you insist unsteadily even though everything in your body is coming alive at the idea. “That’s just Joel, I think.”

But Anthony doesn’t let up. He teases you mercilessly about it for two weeks. Two weeks in which you have replayed that moment over and over in the confines of your bedroom. You don’t get to touch her. You don’t get to touch her. You don’t get to touch her.

And at the end of two weeks and no sign of Joel you found his address from Ellie and marched to his house.

You give a sharp rap on the door, shocked when it flies open and a grumpy looking Joel takes up the entire doorframe. He looks like he’s been recently awoken and it makes your core twitch. Seeing Joel all sleepy and soft makes you want to curl into him.

“Hi Joel.”

His sweet molasses eyes land on you, widening in surprise. The irritation there flees immediately and is replaced with gentle surprise.

 “How do you know where I live?” Joel asks in a quiet rasp with his brows knitting together.

“Ellie.”

You’ve never been a loud talker and now with Joel’s beautiful face in front of you, this moment is no exception. Joel leans forward a fraction, ear tilted towards you.

“Wassat?”

"Ellie."

"Oh, a' course."

He gives a breathless chuckle as his dark eyes scan over your shoulder, surveying the neighborhood to see if you're alone. He rocks back on his heels, reminding you of a chastised child. 

"Look, I'm real sorry about what happened with your brother," he says and observing the way he's bracing himself you think he assumes you're here to dress him down. The thought takes you by surprise before amusing you. 

"Why did you?"

Joel stares at you a beat, acutely surprised by your sudden confidence.

"Was worried he was a stranger," Joel finally mutters. "And I didn't like some strange guy touchin' you."

You're shocked to see pink rising to his tanned cheeks. It makes you feel bolder; it makes you take a step towards Joel on his porch. It makes you speak a little louder, a little bolder.

"Why?"

His gaze drags from the ground, taking its time to travel from your feet to your eyes.

"You mean it ain't obvious?" He exhales slowly, looking defeated. “Cuz… your mine.”

You feel as your body jerks to life at this simple statement. The possessiveness in his tone, the desire, the hope all mixing into one incredibly potent cocktail.

“I mean, I want you to be mine,” he amends quickly, licking his dried lips nervously.

You can't help reach out a hand to touch his chest, palm flat. You feel his heartbeat there, fluttering like a trapped bird in a strong cage. Joel swallows, his gaze going from your hand back to your searching eyes on his. 

"I didn't know you liked me," you say in a hush to his sternum. "I didn't-"

"The day you got here," Joel confesses in haste. "The second I saw you...Somethin' just... clicked."

Your heart sings, making your pupils grow large in your eyes as you stare up at Joel. His large hand cups your cheek, thumb dragging over your bottom lip. You hold in a shiver as his eyes shutter.

"Haven't been able to get you outta my head since then."

"I felt it too," you say quickly, your hand sliding up to his shoulder as you step closer to him. "The moment I saw your eyes."

Those very eyes dart back and forth between your own, looking for guile, looking for deception.  When they find none, they shine again with that sweet warm cinnamon color gazing back at you.

"I'm not a good person,” he says in a voice that sounds tired and broken. A voice of regret and life lived. His warm hand drops from your cheek and he takes a step backwards into his house, away from your touch. “I've done a lot of terrible shit.”

You grip his hand in yours, guiding it back until it cups your cheek again. He allows this, even welcomes it. He stands watching as you nuzzle into his palm, eyes closing as you bask in the warmth of his touch.  Joel feels his feet stepping forward again, drawing near to you and this feeling you bring out in him.  

You open your eyes and reach up above his shoulder. He allows your fingers trap one of the curls below his ear, testing the smooth texture, seeing the browns and grays mixing together and reveling that you’re finally touching Joel Miller. He has your face in both his hands now, holding you delicately.

“I don’t deserve ya,” he whispers.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Well I says I want you," you say smirking a moment after hearing it out loud. 

You've always been so quiet and serious. Right now there's almost a levity in how you look at Joel and he finds he likes it. A lot. His face breaks into a broad grin and you're amazed at how it transforms his face from austere to boyish. It makes you sigh, angling your body closer to his. 

"I wanted you the second I saw you, Joel. I can't explain it." Your hands lace behind his neck. 'Being around you makes me feel-." 

"Safe," he finishes for you.

When you nod he does the same, eyes scanning yours. You take a moment, hearts beating in tandem before he pulls you into his arms, mouth pressing to yours. The kiss is everything you’d hoped; warm and soft and sweet. It wraps you up in a cocoon of safety built with lust and comfort.

And now its eleven months and you live in your own home. It’s a street over from Joel’s and you take turns staying over at each other’s places. You also take turns cooking every night but it’s always done at Joel’s kitchen, often with Ellie offering unsolicited opinions from her space at the table where she sketches and makes retching noises when Joel kisses you. When you all eat together each night in the Miller kitchen there’s lots of laughing and shared stories and and if Ellie’s getting on Joel’s nerves he makes sure to kiss you heaps just to gross her out.

Despite how they first met, Anthony is one of Joel’s biggest fans with Hank following close behind. The three of them go fishing some weekends, coming back singing drunkenly with a chest full of fish. It makes you laugh with your whole body.

Maria and Tommy are the first to say what was already known during your first dinner together with them, “Fucking finally. You know how long this asshole was pining after you?” much to a red-faced Joel’s chagrin.

The first time Joel takes you to bed everything is slow slow slow. He wants to see your face, wants to make sure you feel good. He won’t chase his pleasure until yours has been sated first and often more than once with his tongue, his fingers, his cock.  When he groans his release it rumbles through his chest and echoes through into your ribcage. It makes you feel connected, like one body, one set of lungs, one heart.

When you first walk into town with Joel’s hand wrapped around yours the people don’t seem particularly shocked. Joel and you make sense to them, so similar in your quiet intensity, your serious dispositions. But when you’re behind closed doors and secret smiles are shared between you and him, the warmth of the moment invades your heart.

It makes you whisper “I love you,” into his jaw as he sheaths himself between your legs. It makes him murmur “Fell in love the moment I saw you,” in your ear. And it makes you cry when a few years later you feel your belly swell with new life.

And when your child is born you thank the entities above for giving her Joel’s eyes.

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

original answer to the ask:

I love reading requests but unfortunately I can't do them all! I kinda just write what the muses tell me to. Plus this sounds like a big, long story (which honestly sounds beautiful) but I have so many WIP's that I don't think I would get to this one. However, I might take this and adapt it into a short story for you if you want? (And if I can!)

fuckin' muses, eh?

[the-guilty-writer]

Can I ask a garcia daughter where Derek and her have close relationship much like his and garlic, and just cute moments between them

I think this works better as headcanons so here you go!

Penelope had always wanted to do more to help children who had lost their parents as she had and she decided that becoming a foster mom would be the best thing she could do to help.

You were 10 years old and your parents had been victims on a case that the team was working.

It was a local case and you were brought in to be interviewed.

A social worker was supposed to be there to pick you up, but they were running late and the team had to spread out to different places so Garcia volunteered to watch you.

She brought you to her lair and shared all her fun fuzzy pens and figurines with you.

After a few hours the social worker finally showed up but you refused to leave Garcia's side.

"I'm actually a foster parent. I'd be happy to have her until she settles down." "Thank you. As soon as we find her a long-term placement I will let you know."

Garcia ended up being your long-term placement.

She adopted you not long after that.

Hotch gave her lots of time off so she could be home to help you adjust, but sometimes she had to bring you to work with her.

The team didn't mind one bit. they loved having you around.

Of course you liked all of them.

But it was no secret that Derek was your favorite.

He was the first person you always hugged when Garcia brought you to work.

If Garcia was busy you would sit on his lap while he went over files (telling you to close your eyes so you didn't see any crime scene photos of course).

And at the end of a long day when you were exhausted from running around the bullpen he would carry you to the car and be super careful not to wake you up.

At school some kids made fun of you for your parents being dead and only having a mom now and no dad.

When Penelope told him he was furious.

So for career day he went instead of Garcia and he pulled out all the stops- FBI kevlar vest, hand-to-hand demonstration, cool stories about catching bad guys (leaving out the not so kid friendly parts of course), etc.

And the kids stopped making fun of you because you obviously had the coolest uncle in the whole world plus he can arrest people, has handcuffs, and carries a gun.

He took you to the dad and daughter dance too.

When you get into a sport he coaches you.

As long as he isn't away on a case he would never miss a game/meet.

You always perform better when he's there beforehand to give you a peptalk.

He was halfway across the country right before championships and he knew he wasn't going to make it so he slipped away for five minutes to call you.

"I'm always with you, little baby girl. You can do this."

The photo of you holding up your champion trophy/metal sits on his desk.

Garcia is baby girl and you're little baby girl even if you get taller than her when you start to grow.

He got you guys tee shirts with your nicknames on them.

The older you got and the more you could understand things the more inside jokes you would have.

When you go on your first date Derek pulls the big scary FBI agent dad act and Garcia has to tell him to chill.

And when you have your first heartbreak he doesn't get angry and want revenge for you. He just holds you while you cry and tells you that it's going to be okay.

Penelope on the other hand absolutely makes that person's life a living hell for a few days by inconviniencing them online in anyway possible.

She may or may not have changed the passwords to all their social media accounts and signs them up for every spam email possible.

He helps move you into your dorm room/first apartment at college.

When it was time to leave he cried more than Penelope.

She had to be the driver home because he couldn't keep it together.

"my dear chocolate thunder, she's only a two hour drive away. She can visit on the weekends."

When you've been dating someone for a while and you bring them home you know Garcia will love them, but you really hope that Derek doesn't scare them off.

He doesn't.

A few years later when they want to propose they know they need his blessing too.

He cries when he walks you down the isle.

He cries during the dad daughter dance too.

"I don't care how old you get, you'll always be my little baby girl."

[rogueddie]

Sanctuary Prompt for strangerthings-a-side's aromantic visibility week, day 2: Library AU

Sat in Max's hospital room, listening to Lucas reading books aloud for her, felt like the only place that Erica could find any safety in the aftermath of Vecnas victory.

Even when Max woke, blind and confused, Lucas kept reading to her. The stories offered an escape, and Lucas' voice helped keep her grounded. Helped her keep positive.

Lucas is ok, and that was the thing Erica cared about most in those moments.

It wasn't until the next year that they would finally defeat Vecna, until they finally started the slow and arduous task of rebuilding Hawkins from the ground up.

Almost everything had been destroyed in the fighting.

Including the library.

Thinking of those days in the hospital, in those quiet moments when she was finally able to find peace through Lucas and his books...

She insisted on doing anything and everything she could to help rebuild the library. She was volunteering as soon as it opened.

The head librarian often joked about how she was going to take his job one day.

She didn't think he was serious. But, as soon as she turned twenty, he sat her down in his office and explained how the transfer will work.

"I'm old," he told her. "I've done all I can for this place. I can't think of anyone better for the job."

Erica thrived as the head librarian. Having the authority to finally make changes that she's been thinking about feels more like relief than a pressuring position.

None of the issues she assumes to occur ever come around either.

"You're such a pretty young woman," one of the women she works with comments, patting her arm. "Are you ever going to find yourself a man?"

"No," Erica says. She barely looks away from the bookshelf she's organising. "All I need are my books. No man will ever make me this happy."

"Good for you," the woman chuckles. "Never disappointed, huh?"

"I guess," Erica shrugs. "I just don't want that type of love."

"That type?"

"Yeah. I love my family, especially my brother. His fiance always comes over with him too and she's actually cool. I got friends. Tina. I can't imagine needing anyone else."

The woman hums, going quiet for a moment, considering.

Erica almost forgets about her and the conversation for the rest of the day, continuing on with her daily routine.

It's not until the end of the day, as they're preparing to close the library, that she comes up again.

"Sorry if this is crossing a line," the woman starts, before gently putting a little book on the desk. "But you fought hard to get this book in here..."

"I'm not gay."

"Oh. You're not?"

"No. I don't like either."

She frowns, looking down at the book. "Is that something in here?"

"Maybe. I don't know, and I don't care."

"Of course not," the woman huffs, smiling. "Well, as long as you're happy."

"Yes... yes, I really am."

[todoroki-waifu]

Mitsuya x Reader

Warning: Female reader and cursing.

Scenario: Based on the manga chapter 198.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 901

------

Just as promised from 12 years ago, everyone met at the Musashi shrine on June 19th to open the time capsules. You couldn't remember exactly what you wrote, but you were excited to see what your past self had to say. After greeting everyone and grabbing your boxes, the old Toman gang began to read their letters out loud.

It felt nostalgic listening to each other's dreams, bringing you back to your younger days. Who would've thought that up to now, all of you remained good friends. There was one person that you did wish you weren't just friends with though.

"Then how about you, Taka-chan!?"

Even hearing his name sent your heart into an irregular beat. You honestly felt like you were back in high school almost every time you were around Mitsuya. If you could write back to your younger self, it would be to encourage yourself to confess to your long time crush. Or at least tell someone trustworthy so they could find out for you.

Because years later, you're still wondering what would have happened if you just told Mitsuya your feelings.

"So, who's next?" asks Mitsuya, his voice refocusing you on the present.

"I'll go." You volunteered, eager to read your letter.

"Dear __(y/n). Hope things are good over there in the future! Any cool new stuff that came out? How about school? Did you make it and end up with the career you wanted? I hope so! Because I'm busting my ass over here. I hope you're still friends with everyone and that we're all still having fun. Also, did you ever end up with-" You stopped yourself before proceeding any further. "Oop, gonna skip that part."

Your audience groans out protests, some encouraging you to read your letter in its entirety. You argue back and stay firm with your decision. "No way! It's super private and kinda embarrassing!" You continue on, making sure to avoid any questions that involve you dating Mitsuya. Gosh, what the hell was your 15 year old self thinking?!

"Boo! You definitely left some parts out." Hakkai points his thumb down.

"Just leave it Hakkai. Let's respect her privacy." Mitsuya saves you from any more teasing. You thank the seamster then give the floor to someone else.

"Holy shit! I didn't know you liked Mitsuya!" You turn your head instantly to the voice behind you.

"Well you and everyone else knows now, you big mouth!" You could feel your face become warmer at the sound of some snickering and others suddenly questioning you. You avoided looking in Mitsuya's direction, afraid to see his reaction.

"My bad! I just happened to take a peek and didn't think about it!" Takemichi hides behind his hands while Draken calms the crowd so they could finish opening the remaining time capsules.

Once everyone had their turn, no one mentioned your crush on Mitsuya and started heading to the designated restaurant for dinner. You stayed behind a bit more, looking up at the tree where you buried your letters.

"Crazy how it doesn't feel that long." You jump at Mitsuya's approaching voice.

"Ye-yeah, guess it's because we still see each other pretty frequently." It was so hard to look at him, but you felt like you owed him an apology. "I'm sorry for what Takemichi said. I'm sure it was embarrassing for you and-"

"Embarrassing? Why do you say that?"

"Because of what I wrote? Don't you feel...weirded out?"

"Of course not. If anything, I wanna kick my younger self in the ass for not asking you out then."

"No way! You liked me back?" Your pulse quickens at the thought of you and your high school crush dating. You then feel your heart sink with sadness, reminding yourself that you're in the present and whatever silly feelings he had for you was probably gone. "But, I guess it's too late, huh?"

"Is it?" Mitsuya turns to face you, lilac meeting __(e/c). "I still like you and if your feelings for me haven’t changed, who’s to say that we can’t start now? Might be bold of me to assume that you still like me, but I've made a promise to not live with regrets."

"I would...really like that." Your face heats up, voice soft with your eyes avoiding his gaze. Mitsuya chuckles at your shy form, but he, too, is also feeling his stomach doing cartwheels.

"There is also another thing that I wish I had done before."

"What's that?" You asked then felt your face being cradled by his hands. You see him draw his face close to yours, sending your heart racing. It pumps faster the closer he gets, your breath stuck in your lungs.

"Oh fuck!" Mitsuya freezes when he's only centimeters away from your lips then gently releases your face. You both see Takemichi trying to quiet Hakkai as the tall male's jaw continues to drop.

"So-sorr-sorry! We just wanted to make sure you guys were coming, but we'll meet you at the restaurant!" Takemichi immediately turns Mitsuya's right hand man towards their respective vehicles.

"Guess we'll just have to wait until our first date." You laugh lightly, the heat slowly leaving your cheeks.

"Who says we can't get a preview?" Mitsuya leans towards you again, gingerly touching his lips with yours.

He probably shouldn't have done that because, now, he can't quell his desire for more.

[ayyy-pee]

Chapter 7 - 50-50 Grind

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Taglist

Pairing:Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: We get into the mind of Choso and find that his cool, calm demeanor may be nothing more than an illusion when it comes to reader.

Warning: Smut, Oral Sex (reader receiving), Oral Sex (reader giving), Choso being super sweet, Choso being super nasty, Cumshot, Oral Cumshot, Cum Swallowing, Very Slight Cumplay (Choso), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob

Suguru Art: YuOekk

Choso Art: @DmD_0_03

A/N: Chileeee THE WRITER'S BLOCK THE WRITER'S BLOCK!!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!! I hope everyone had an amazing (and safe) new year! In 2023, I'm going to try not to lie so much about when I'll be updating so instead, I just won't say anything! DLFKJSDKF

Enjoy the new year and this new chapter!

The sounds of cash registers beeping and patrons conversing amongst themselves fills the air. It’s busy this afternoon in the supermarket. It’s a good thing. Choso enjoys company, enjoys the normalcy of simply shopping for groceries. He doesn’t get the opportunity to do it much during competition season and he doesn’t particularly mind the hustle and bustle. Even though he draws attention to himself with his face tattoos and tired eyes, he finds comfort in being around people.

Choso glances down at his phone, the way too long shopping list nearly making his eyes cross as he reads through. You’re coming over for dinner with Choso and his brothers tomorrow night and apparently everything on this list is absolutely essential (according to Yuji). He grabs a few carrots as listed from the vegetable display, tucking them away into a bag before placing them in the basket hanging from his arm. He moves on to look at the herbs noted on his phone. He’s not exactly sure what all of these ingredients will become. He’s not the one cooking dinner– Yuji is. 

He’d volunteered out of sheer excitement. 

“Choso’s bringing someone home?! That never happens,” Yuji teases. He’s stretched out on the floor in the living room as he reads through a manga.

“Will you ever just call me big brother?” Choso sulks on the couch. “It hurts my feelings when you just call me by my name.”

Yuji ignores him. “What’s she like?!”

“Really sweet. Pretty too. Like, really pretty. She photographs for a skate magazine. That’s how we met.”

“Wow! She seems so cool.”

“She is.”

“I’m so excited! Oh! I’m gonna cook! I’ve been wanting to try this new recipe out.”

Choso smiles, thinking about you. He thinks you’re beautiful, smart, funny and talented. Your photos surprise him whenever you let him get a peek. How can you make a simple trick he’s seen done hundreds of times look different and better every time? You’re passionate. He likes that about you. A lot.

The only thing about you that Choso dislikes is the dead weight attached to you named Suguru Geto. He tries really hard not to let it bother him, but he doesn’t get it. At first, he didn’t mind so much. When you’d told him about your little “situationship” with Suguru, that didn’t matter to him. He’s never been the jealous type anyway. But the more Choso got to know you, the more Suguru’s presence in your life began to irk him. 

How was he to know he’d end up feeling this way? He had no idea of knowing how serious he’d become about you. Or how quickly he’d become serious about you. He figured you’d come to your senses sooner or later, see who the better choice was. But Suguru was still sticking around like an annoying rash you couldn’t get rid of. 

But he won’t get into that with Yuji right now.

“She’s great. I’m excited for you all to meet her. Hopefully everyone is on their best behavior,” Choso murmurs, face serious.

The slight warning in Choso’s tone makes Yuji sit up. “Hey! Eso’s the asshole. Worry about him. Me and Kechizu will be sooooo nice.”

Choso nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Okay, good. I’m really nervous so that’s good to hear.”

Choso was glad Yuji volunteered to cook since he loves doing it so much. Otherwise, he’d be ordering takeout. Kechizu talks too much and spits when he speaks, so he was banned from cooking a long time ago. Eso sweats so much, Choso fears he’s eaten the strange smelly goop that forms on his back at some point in time. He was banned, too. Choso can’t cook to save his life, so he sticks to making money, ordering food and keeping a roof over everyone’s head. It’s only when Yuji came to live with them, that the brothers had experienced a real home cooked meal.

It was delicious. And while Choso doesn’t insist Yuji makes dinner often, Yuji enjoys doing so. Choso appreciates that his baby brother uses his cooking skills as a way to bring the family together when time permits.

He sighs as his eyes scan over the items in the shopping basket. He’s almost finished, which is a relief to him. He wants to get back home to clean up for tomorrow. He hopes the dinner goes well, that you like his brothers and that his brothers like you.

After grabbing the last ingredient on the list, Choso waits in the checkout line to pay. He wonders what you’re doing. You’ve been busy since the last time he saw you. Today, you had plans so he would actually have to wait until tomorrow to see you. 

Didn’t mean he couldn’t call you, though.

He pulls his phone from his pants, dials your number and lets it ring. You answer on the fourth.

“Hey,” you answer sweetly. He can hear the familiar sound of wheels skidding and slamming against the pavement. You must be out shooting.

“Hey, babe. I was just calling to talk for a minute. I’m at the store right now getting stuff for tomorrow. Wanted to see what you’re up to.”

There’s some rustling on your end and then it’s quiet for a bit. Choso waits patiently. You’re probably trying to get away from the ruckus.

“Sorry, it was a little loud,” you tell him. “I just finished up a shoot at one of the parks. Packing up and then I’m going to grab lunch with Suguru.”

Choso ignores the tightness in his chest from hearing his name. “Oh. Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, but I’m so tired. I’ve been out all morning so I won’t be out too long. I’ll probably go straight home after.”

“With him?” Choso blurts out before he can stop himself. He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose because he probably sounds so fucking pathetic now. Worrying about you going home with a man you were seeing long before you’d met him; a man who you were open and honest about still having feelings for, still seeing. A man Choso said it was okay for you to continue seeing while you got to know each other. 

Even so, he can’t help the nagging feeling of jealousy.

“No? Just me…” You’re quiet for a moment before you ask, “Are you okay?” He can hear you zipping your bags. You’ll be leaving the park soon...with Suguru. He doesn’t want to ruin your time out with friends and…him. Well, he does want to ruin your time out with friends and him, but Choso likes to think he’s a little more mature than that. So he does what any mature jealous person does – He lies.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

The cashier waves Choso forward and he sets his basket on to the checkout belt.

“You just never really ask about Suguru…I was just wondering if you’re alright.”

Choso hardly asks about Suguru because he doesn’t want to hear about Suguru. Although at some point in time he told you he was willing to wait for you to come to your senses, he sometimes wonders if you ever will.

Choso enjoys going with the flow. He’s chill, avoids drama the best he can. He’s laid back. But that doesn’t make him an idiot. He knows your history with Suguru. And he gets it…sort of. A year is a long time to have your feelings toyed with. To be dragged along for the ride, constantly pulled close only to be pushed away. 

From what Choso knows, it was less about building a relationship with you and all about the sex for Suguru. But for you…you wanted so much more from him and he didn’t want to give that to you. At least, not until Choso entered the picture. It seemed suddenly the asshole had finally opened his eyes and realized how good you were. That, or he was trying to keep you from realizing you deserved better than him. Choso would bet on the latter.

Because how could Suguru have not seen it in the first place? How could he have not chosen to give you more when you’d asked the first time?

Choso thinks Suguru’s a fucking idiot, an actual monkey.

Actually, Choso’s pretty sure a monkey is smarter than Suguru at this point. Of course, he doesn’t voice this to you. You’ve got history with Suguru, no matter how shitty. He’s still the new guy in your life and he likes you a lot. He doesn’t want to ruin anything.

But fuck, he wishes you’d open your eyes to how much of a piece of shit Suguru is.

It’s easy enough for Choso to give Suguru zero energy when they’re in the same area together. It’s not like they had much communication with each other before, if any. Now it seemed Choso couldn’t escape him.

“Choso?”

“Sir?”

The cashier’s voice and yours pull him back to the present at the same time. The cashier points to the screen, the total waiting to be paid.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly to both you and the cashier. “Um, I have to go, baby. Text me later?”

“Sure. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Cool, uh…have fun.”

He ends the call, pocketing his phone and taking his wallet out so he can pay and get out of the way. He takes his receipt from the cashier before grabbing the bag of groceries and exiting the store.

----------

The next evening finds Choso frantically setting up the table for dinner. You’d be here at any moment and he wants the place to look perfect. Unfortunately, Eso and Kechizu got called into work so it would only be you, Choso and Yuji for dinner. Probably for the best. He loves his brothers, but they can be a bit much all at once. Better not to get Eso worked up anyway. The entire house would smell.

Choso’s got a bouquet of roses in a new vase in the center of the table. Yuji’s idea. He’s not sure when or how his little brother became such a romantic, but he’s grateful for any tips.

Choso doesn’t date much, doesn’t have time for it. It’s not that he’s not interested in finding someone, but his lifestyle keeps him so busy, it’s hard to find someone understanding enough to tolerate it. And then he met you. You work in his field (sort of) and you’re just as busy if not more. You understand that travel is a part of his job and there will be times when he’s unavailable. You’re patient when he’s unavailable for long periods of time. You’re what he wants in a partner in all honesty.

Yuji brings the food over and begins plating the two plates sitting next to each other. He’s so fancy in his little apron; like a real chef. Choso wonders if he gets his love and talent for cooking from his side of the family. Probably, since Choso and all of his brothers can’t cook.

The doorbell rings indicating your arrival.

“Oh, she’s here!” He exclaims, rushing back to the kitchen to put the pans away as Choso heads to the door. He swings the door open, unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across his face when he sees you. 

Damn, he missed you. 

You’re standing there, all smiles too, in a cute little dress that hugs you in all the right places. You look incredible. It gets the usual reaction from Choso that he has to go above and beyond to hide any time he’s around you – a subtle, persistent throbbing between his legs. It takes a lot for him not to blatantly stare.

Instead, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey babe,” he greets you, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you inside.

“Hey,” you say back, gifting Choso with a shy smile.

“You look great.”

“Thank you.”

Choso’s lips are on yours as soon as the door shuts, arms looping around your waist to pull you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him forward to deepen the kiss. You open your mouth to him and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your teeth and press the soft muscle against yours. You both stand in the entryway, lips slotting against each other, Choso’s hands gliding up and down your back as he holds you close. When you moan softly into his mouth, that throbbing between his legs grows and he reluctantly breaks the kiss.

You peer up at him through your lashes, so fucking pretty it only makes the throbbing grow almost painful. So he turns away from you if only to calm himself down. It’s always like this with you. It feels like someone is playing a cruel and twisted joke on him, because he told you he had no issue waiting for sex. And he doesn’t. But fuck, you always look so good, smell so sweet. It’s hard for him to not want to break his little rule.

Choso takes a deep breath before his hand finds yours again, leading you into the apartment.

“It smells great in here,” you comment. “I’m so excited to meet your brothers.”

“Just brother. Eso and Kechizu had to work unfortunately, but Yuji is here,” Choso explains. “He actually cooked tonight.”

“Really?! Can’t wait to try it!”

When you get to the dining area, Choso pulls your seat out for you so you can sit down. It’s only as Yuji emerges from the kitchen that Choso notices the third placemat and dining set is now missing. Yuji beams when he sees you, coming to sit in the seat across from you.

“Hi! I’m Yuji.”

You introduce yourself to Yuji as well, smiling when Yuji proceeds to tell you how much Choso talks about you and how happy he looks lately. He showers you with compliments on your looks and Choso wonders where the hell all this charm came from. Certainly not from Choso’s side of the family. 

“Thank you, Yuji. You’re so sweet. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Your brother talks about you all the time.”

Yuji rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “He’s just a little obsessed.”

You laugh, because you’d agree. Choso loves his brothers more than anything in this world. It’s obvious. But it’s adorable. Something you really like about him.

“He just really cares about you. That’s all.”

“You’re not eating with us?” Choso asks suddenly, probably sounding a lot more disappointed about it than he intended.

Yuji smiles sadly. “Sorry, big bro. Nobara and Fushiguro invited me out while I was cooking. I didn’t want to say anything before but…” he looks between you and Choso. “If I had to choose between third wheeling with my friends or you two, I’m gonna choose them.”

Choso doesn’t miss how Yuji just so happens to use the nickname he’s always begging his little brother to call him. It’s his weak spot and Yuji knows it, knows he’ll get away with anything as long as he calls Choso his big bro. 

Choso nods. “Have fun. Don’t stay out too late or I’ll send Eso to get you.”

Yuji scowls, muttering about how embarrassing Eso is before he stands. His expression shifts into a grin and he claps his hands together. “I really put my all into this dinner so I hope you both enjoy! Eat it while it’s hot! It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too, Yuji. Have fun with your friends.”

The front door closes shortly after. Choso sighs, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he frowns. “I said you’d meet my brothers and all plans fell through.”

You reach a hand forward and cup Choso’s face, your thumb gently caressing over the tattooed line on that side. “Choso, it’s okay. As long as I get to spend time with you, I don’t mind.”

Choso beams, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “You’re too good to me.”

You shake your head. “You’re too good to me.”

----------

Dinner goes well. The food is spectacular. Choso can’t wait to tell Yuji how much you enjoyed the food. You and Choso in deep discussion while washing dishes together about the third Cheetah Girls movie and why it’s your least favorite, save for a few songs. It’s oddly domestic. He has many opinions on the breakup of the group, but promises to save that discussion for later. 

Choso talks about his competitions, you congratulating him on how well he’s been doing. It makes his cheeks burn red with embarrassment and happiness all at the same time. He offers to show you his trophies once you’re finished cleaning up and you happily accept the invitation. 

After drying the last dish, Choso leads you to his bedroom to show you some of his favorite competition wins. They line the built-in wall shelves. Choso grabs the trophy he’d won at the televised event where he’d essentially confessed to you on live tv from the shelf. 

You take a seat on the edge of Choso’s bed, as he wanders over with it. He watches as you bring your arms above your head, stretching your back and Choso has to turn his gaze away from you briefly. You make the most mundane actions look so enticing and it drives him crazy how much he wants you. He wants more than just kisses, more than just holding hands.

Choso clears his throat before he turns his gaze back to you and holds the trophy up. “I think this one’s my favorite,” he tells you. “For obvious reasons.”

You smile bashfully. “I think that’s my favorite, too.”

He places the trophy back in its spot before he crosses the room again and sits next to you on his bed, leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. You place your hand on Choso’s thigh, patting lightly and his bodily response is immediate, the earlier throbbing now making its presence known again. Choso sits up quickly, clearing his throat.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and you nod, closing the distance with an “of course” before your lips are on his. The hand on his thigh runs gently along the length of his quad, making his breaths come a little more rapidly with each kiss. Choso’s large hand comes up to grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. It’s hungry, all tongue and soft sighs into each other's mouths as your lips caress.

When you finally pull away, Choso finds himself chasing your lips with a quiet whimper. 

“Thank you so much for dinner, Choso. Everything was great and I had a really good time,” you tell him.

Choso leans forward, presses his forehead to yours. “You sound like you’re about to head out.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you whisper and there’s a hint of sadness in your voice.

“Baby,” he mutters softly. “You could never.” He ghosts his lips over yours, placing soft pecks to the corners of your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. I like having you here.”

“Choso…” you breathe against him, the hand on his thigh squeezing gently. “If I stay…” 

He trails kisses along your jaw, featherlight, so soft you can barely feel it. And yet, your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath. “If you stay?”

You sigh, pulling back. You’re no doubt trying to change the subject with some excuse to run out of here. “I’m just really tired. Prepping for this shoot has been draining the shit out of me. Tonight has been amazing. I just don’t want to bring the mood down with how stressed I am.”

Choso hums, nodding, eyes now fixed on the spot where your hand rests. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

The pause is long as he awaits your answer, the heat of your hand radiating through the fabric of Choso’s pants and making the throbbing between his legs even worse, if possible. You watch Choso closely, eyes following where his dark orbs are focused on.

“I don’t know…” you mutter softly, fingers lightly squeezing Choso’s thigh. He bites back the low groan threatening to escape. His gaze drifts up to your glossed lips. 

“Well, how do you usually relieve stress?” Choso asks, the heat quickly pooling in his center as your hand coasts along his thigh.

You give him a knowing look, biting down on your bottom lip. He understands.

“I have an idea,” He responds quietly, shifting on the bed.

“What’s your idea?”

He wants to kiss you again, feel your mouth against his. He always wants to kiss you. Ever since he met you, it’s been all he’s done. Of course Choso wants to do more with you. He fantasizes about it. But he told you he’d wait for you to make a choice first. He didn’t want to make you feel like he only wanted sex from you, the way he made you feel.

But, while sex isn’t the only thing he wants, he does want it. When he sees the tip of your pink tongue dart out to swipe across your bottom lip, he can only hope you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I want you,” he blurts out, unable to hold back his honesty.

“Choso…” you sigh his name and it only makes him want you more. “ I want you, too.”

“I know I said there’s no rush for sex, but it doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.”

You bite your lip again, eyes searching Choso’s. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, but for purely selfish reasons if I’m being honest.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion.

“Making you feel good will make me feel good,” he explains.

You nod, giving Choso the green light. “Okay.” 

He scoots back to lay on his bed, pulling you along with him. “Come here, baby,” he coaxes as he lays down on his back. His hands find your hips, positioning you so that you’re straddling his chest.

“Closer,” Choso says, his thumbs tracing circles on your hips.

“Okay,” you murmur, scooting forward until your plush thighs are on either side of his head. His hands slide down your hips, to the hem of your dress that’s already ridden up enough that Choso can catch a peek of your panties.

“Can I?” He asks, pinching the hem of the fabric between his fingers.

“Yes, Choso,” you pant in anticipation.

He peels your dress up, getting a full view of your core. Your panties hug your pussy so nicely, a small wet spot from your arousal forming right in the center. Choso wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, have you crying out his name over and over, give you everything you want and more. But instead he turns his head to the side and presses a tender kiss to the inside of one of your thighs, then turns his head to do the same to the other. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes Choso pause.

“Is this okay?”

You nod, your hand coming down to comb your fingers through his hair. It makes him shiver, makes his cock stiffen further. “It’s fine. I’m fine, Choso. Make me feel good.”

Fuck, the reassurance only makes him harder, lets him know he doesn’t need to hold back anymore. But he still nods, wraps his arms around your lush thighs, squeezing softly. 

He kisses your thighs again, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a soft peck directly to that dark little wet spot. He chuckles when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh. 

“You’re so pretty like this, baby,” he kisses your center again. “All for me,” he mutters against your undergarments.

Choso pulls back, eyes locked to that sweet spot spreading along the fabric of your panties when he whispers a soft, “Let me take care of you,” and then he’s pulling you down by your thighs, meeting you halfway to latch his hot mouth directly onto your clothed pussy. 

A mixture of your moans and Choso’s fill the room, the vibrations shooting straight to your clit. You gasp, rolling your hips forward to grind yourself against Choso’s face, a soft moan rushing past your lips. He lets you ride his tongue, his saliva soaking through the fabric. You taste incredible and he hasn’t even truly experienced you yet. 

“Oh my god,” you whine before Choso halts your movements with his hands. He runs his tongue over your panties, long and slow, his hips bucking into the air when the fingers in his hair tighten into a fist, your other hand finding purchase on his headboard. He presses his nose into the center of your panties and inhales deeply, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your sweet aroma fills his senses.

“Fuck, I bet this pussy tastes so good without this in the way.”

You whimper above Choso as he hooks a finger into your panties and pulls them to the side, groaning softly when he finally gets a good look at your cunt, glistening with the mixture of your slick and his saliva. It’s prettier than he could’ve ever imagined. He wants a taste.

His free hand squeezes your thigh lightly just as Choso pushes his tongue between your folds and runs a hot, languid lick up your core. He feels your body shudder above him, his own body following when he finally gets a full taste of you. He gives your clit a small lick before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly, unable to keep his hips from thrusting up again when you gasp above him. He moans, the vibration leaving you panting.

“Shit! So good, Choso, that’s so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit until you’re grinding your own hips down on him.

“Yes, yes, yes! Don’t stop.”

He groans, hands squeezing your thighs to spread them further open for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over until you’re a whimpering mess above him. You taste better than he could’ve ever imagined – saccharinely sweet. He pulls you forward, your hips bucking when his tongue slips into your entrance. He can feel your walls clench in response, groaning when your knees tighten on each side of his head. 

The grip in his hair loosens, your other arm shooting up to grab hold of the headboard with both hands to keep from falling over. Choso thrusts his tongue into your hole, moaning when he feels you moving your hips on your own, fucking yourself on his mouth. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cry out.

Choso pulls out of your hole, moving his mouth to wrap his soft lips around your clit again, sucking hard. 

"Oh, Choso," you mewl, the new sensation making your grip on the headboard loosen, falling forward onto your hands. The new position gives Choso much better access, his hands letting go of your thighs to cup your ass. With one hand, he spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your sopping hole.

“Fuuuuuck,” Choso moans into your cunt when he feels your tight pussy clench down on his fingers. He loves making you feel good, having you moaning and whining but, goddamn, he’s so hard, he’s thrusting into the air, trying and failing to find any sort of friction. It’s torturous. He can feel his erection, painful and sticky in his pants. He’ll definitely have to take care of himself after you’re gone.

Choso curls his fingers, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head.

“You close?” He asks before pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit just as he curls his digits inside you again. 

You don’t even get a chance to answer him, your hands tugging his sheets as they ball into fists. The only sounds that can be heard are your hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Choso’s face along with the lewd slurping of Choso’s mouth as he laps up your release. You’re coming undone, walls clenching around his fingers, as your body spasms with your orgasm.

And Choso waits, pumping his fingers into you and gently licking through your folds until he finally feels you relax above him. He pulls his digits out of you, placing a soft kiss to your swollen cunt before he pulls your panties back into place and helps you scoot down his torso until you’re seated on his groin. 

You’re watching him close, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, pupils blown with desire. Choso brings his fingers up to his face, spreading and closing them like a pair of scissors, watching the sticky strings of your slick spread between them. His eyes stay locked with yours as he opens his mouth and slides his fingers in, wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean. He lets them go with a loud pop.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groans, his hips coming up to grind against your ass.

Your head cocks to the side when you feel his hardness against you. “Looks like you need someone to make you feel good, too.” You suggest, leaning forward to place sweet kisses down Choso’s cheek, his neck and chest. You kiss all the way down his abs and the fire in Choso’s belly grows as you get closer to your destination. 

He watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his pants and pull them off. He moans when you lean forward and press those pretty fucking lips to his throbbing, clothed cock and it’s involuntary, the way his hips come up on reflex. 

He groans quietly, watching your lips curl up in a small smirk. You already know the effect you have on him without doing much at all. Minx.

Your eyes lock with Choso’s, hands finding the waistband of his boxers right before you press another hot and tender kiss to his core, Choso’s back arching at the contact.

“Fuck.” 

Keep doing that and he’s going to cum in his pants. At this moment he wouldn’t mind. It would be a welcome relief. He’d just have to hope you’d understand if it came to that. You’re just so sexy; a seductress when you want to be. How could he not blow his load when he’s got the perfect view of you right now settled between his legs? Face down, ass up in the air, back arched so he can see those beautiful round cheeks of yours. He kind of regrets opting for not going all the way tonight because he’d love to feel that little pussy contract around his dick like it just did on his tongue not that long ago.

The thought makes his cock jump within the confines of his underwear.

Gaze still glued to Choso’s, you tug lightly at the waistband of his boxers before your soft voice asks, “Can I?”

He doesn’t think about it for a second.

“Do whatever you want,” he tilts his hips up, letting you slide his boxers off for him. “It’s yours, baby.”

His cock springs free with a loud smack against his lower belly. It’s long, thick, with a large vein running right up the underside until it reaches the angry red tip. The entire length is sticky, precum slathered over it. You settle yourself between his legs again as you take in the sight of him exposed to you.

“I want to make you feel good, too.”

You take his length into your mouth before he can argue, your lips closing around the head. “Ah– shit,” Choso grunts, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. From here, Choso thinks he has the perfect view of you. It turns him on beyond measure and he jerks his hips forward, shoving his cock further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Sorry, fuck. I’m sorry.” He moans, pulling out of your mouth.

You shake your head, waving off his concern. “It’s okay, Choso. I like it.”

You’re back on his dick, humming when Choso fills the cavern of your mouth, the vibrations making him shiver. His hand finds the back of your head again, Choso rolling his hips up so he can shove his cock down your throat again, over and over. And you take it so good, relaxing your throat for him so it’s easy. 

“Your mouth feels amazing,” Choso grunts, pumping into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your chin makes his eyes roll back, a pleasure shooting straight up his spine.

It feels so fucking good. Too fucking good.

Yeah, he’s not going to last very long here.

You release his dick, running your tongue along that vein on the underside of his cock, pulling a string of curses from Choso. You lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit of his cock with your tongue, lapping up the bead of precum that sits there. 

"Fuck!"

You kiss down the length of his dick, bringing your attention to his balls, running your tongue right between the two orbs before bringing one into your mouth and sucking. Your hand wraps around Choso’s length, stroking him up and down.

A liquid heat pools in Choso’s core, the threat of his orgasm quickly approaching. He doesn’t want to cum yet. He’s been wanting this for a long time, to be intimate in more ways than just kissing and cuddling. It feels way too good. He wants to savor this. But damn, if you keep going like this–

You wrap your lips around Choso’s cock, taking his entire length in your mouth in one motion. The sudden tight warmth makes Choso’s back arch, has his hands flying to the back of your head to hold you in place.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Don’t move, baby,” he pants, holding your face to his groin so he can fuck your throat. And then you open your throat for him, relaxing for just a moment before you constrict around his cock and the sensation that shoots through Choso’s dick makes him pull you back. You let go with an obnoxious pop as Choso grabs the base of his dick.

He can’t stave it off, not when he sees your swollen lips, your tear stained cheeks, the line of drool dangling from your chin.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t. I’m–I’m gonna cum,” he warns.

You lean forward, opening your mouth, tongue hanging out in invitation. “Give it to me, Choso. I want your cum, baby. Gimme all of it.”

God, you’re so fucking sexy.

He feels his balls tighten, feels the rush in the palm of his hand as he pumps his cock, his free  hand coming to hold the back of your head in position before thick, hot spurts of his cum shoot from the tip and paint your tongue white with his seed.

“Oh god,” he groans through gritted teeth. He keeps pumping, watching as you quickly put your tongue back in your mouth and swallow before you stick it back out for him. It’s so much cum and you take it all, swallowing without him even asking you to. Even wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking so you don’t waste a drop. 

“You’re so good to me,” Choso whispers when he’s finally emptied his load on your tongue.  Breaths coming rapidly, he watches you climb along the length of his body until you’re face to face. He can smell his release on your breath, and then he’s tasting it when you press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, moaning when he tastes the mixture of his release and yours on his tongue.

“Thank you,” you say after breaking the kiss. “I feel a lot better now.”

Choso chuckles, running his hands along your spine. “Good. Me, too.”

----------

You’re both sitting in the bath Choso has run for you, Choso positioned behind you as he gently lathers your shoulders. You’ll be heading home after this, but Choso wanted to treat you to more relaxation before you left. He also wanted an excuse to spend more time with you because the next time he’d see you would likely be the photoshoot. And as exciting as that was, he had a nagging feeling things would be tense.

“In all seriousness, how are you feeling now?” Choso asks, gently splashing water over your shoulders to rinse the soap off. Your hands swirl the bubbles around in the bath.

“Better. Still a little stressed, but that’s to be expected with everything that goes into prepping for these shoots. Then there’s you and Suguru…”

You cut yourself off.

“What about us?”

“I’m just worried how it’ll go with you both there.”

Choso nods in understanding. He quietly mulls over his thoughts. 

“You and Suguru haven’t really been around each other for long periods of time before. These shoots take hours and I just don’t want things to be weird between you two.”

“Did you have this talk with Suguru, too?” He questions, curiously. He should really be the one you're worried.

You nod, leaning back against Choso’s chest. “Of course. He’s the one I’m most worried about causing a scene…That was why we went to lunch together the other day –  to talk about this. He’s really not good with his emotions, but he promised to behave. Said he’s working on accepting that he’s not my only priority anymore.”

Choso chuckles, placing a light kiss to the back of your neck. “Oh? Who else has your attention? Should I be jealous?”

You laugh lightly. “Please. You don’t strike me as the jealous type.”

‘You don’t know me very well, then,’ Choso thinks.

The fact that Suguru gets even a crumb of your undeserved attention drives Choso insane. You’re a toy to him, something for him to keep in his back pocket when he’s bored and needs something to preoccupy his time. He’s not sure how you don’t see it. You’ve mistaken familiarity and comfort with love. It makes sense after suffering through Suguru’s antics for so long. 

All this time, Choso’s been passive, playing the long game while Suguru makes an ass of himself time and time again, hoping you’ll see him for the piece of shit he is. But nothing changes. Choso watches and waits, just going with the flow until you finally come to your senses and make the right choice – him. But nothing changes.

Choso leans down, burying his nose in your hair before he places a sweet kiss to your temple.

He won’t sit back anymore.

In this moment of relaxation before everything goes to shit, Choso wraps his arms around you and he decides it’s time to fight.

Tags: @eiflawriting @mimiszworld @mighty-luna @re-dd0 @k4zuhasleaf @nekonanamiiii @Sacvh @suguju @watyousayin @nothisispatrick300 @sukunasseventhfinger @mykyoon @athenaholmesher @nobody289x @OUTTHEBASEMENTNAE @alpacapum @cherribxio @gloomiigloom @xocreedvo @ficti0nalslxt @getousbabymama @510hz

[marleyybluu]

Wax on, Wax off

Rio Martínez x woc!reader

Content warning: reader is pregnant (yes, another one), waxing while pregnant, just a whole lot of intimate and cute moments tbh, everyone’s in love, talks of pubic hair(?- shouldn’t be a warning cus we are all grown)

A/N: we should know this but this is not like propaganda that you need to have a bald cooch. It’s yours, you do what you want with it it’s beautiful either way this is just a cute little story. Probably spelling mistakes and you should know why… hehe:)

Also I don’t describe the reader in detail but as usual a woman of colour is in mind.

(Not my gif, )

"You better know what the fuck you're doing Martinez." You scold, pregnant and with a fire attitude. Rio just looks at you with those eyes that go "Yes darling, whatever you say." And then shakes his head at how crabby you were. It wasn't your fault... entirely. It was mostly his. You two had just gotten married, went on a month long honeymoon and came back with an extra guest. He was a lot sooner than you two had planned but it worked out anyway.

Aside from the usual pregnancy... uh... problems, you were over the moon. Rio was extra attentive to your needs and like the brave soldier he is, he volunteered to help you with your greatest challenge.

Your bush.

You weren't a posed to the natural nature of the human body, but sometimes you appreciated a "cleaner" look. You had a wax lady, your aesthetician, that you've been going to for years but she was on vacation and you didn't trust anyone else near your coochie like you did her so you decided to wait until she got back.

The timing was terrible, you were eight months and couldn't see a fucking thing with your belly in the way, so whatever was below wasn't really your problem. But now you were getting closer to the nine month mark and it was crazy how fast your hair seemed to have grown. Your bush was back like it was the eighties. And like the whiny pregnant wife you were you complained to your husband not expecting him to do anything you just needed to vent but then one day he comes home with a package in his hand and you don't question him about it, you let him tell you.

"I bought a wax kit off Amazon."

You wanted to laugh thinking it was a joke, he didn't need to wax anything of his, he was fine, he was perfectly trimmed. Not too hairy and not too bald. Your eyes damn near roll under the couch when you realize it's for you. You cried at how sweet the gesture was but told him it was okay (even though it wasn't.)

Now, here you are, laying on top of a towel, on top of your bed waiting for the wax to heat up. "What does Ciara usually do?" He asks as he stirs the wax with the popsicle stick. You sigh wondering why you let him do this. "When it's like this she usually trims it shorter, it's easier that way. Somewhat easier." He mumbled something like "okay, got it." Under his breath and you smile widely, this was so cute, he seems determined and it made your heart swell. You reassure him, "I believe in you baby, don't worry."

You feel a kiss on your leg. "Thanks mama, I won't hurt you."

"I know." You know. So you just relax.

Rio grabs a small pair of scissors, a pair of gloves and gets to work clipping and snipping as carefully as possible. And just like that he was done. "You want me to... take a pic and show you." He laughs but you say no. "I trust you."

The reassurance was comforting. "Alright, does she... wax now?"

"No she usually puts baby powder on it and then the wax."

He runs off to the baby's nursery to steal the baby powder, sprinkles it and wipes off any excess powder which surprised you. You didn't have to tell him to do that. He turns down the heat on the little pot that the wax was in, he looks around and sees your notebook on the nightstand and grabs it, waves it over the wax in an attempt to cool it down in fear of it being too hot for you. You scroll through your playlist, it was a little too quiet for your liking.

"¿Estas listo?" He asks and you give him two thumbs up, he chuckles. You do the butterfly position as best as you can. "You okay?"

"Mhm."

He nods at your confirmation and... goes for it. He remembers you saying to start at the mound— the mons pubis— so he did, slowly spreading the wax on one small section like a tester strip. He waited until it hardened. "Use one hand to pull my skin taut and the other to rip off the wax... but don't rip it." You remind him. "Got it." He says quietly. He counts down in his head and, yoink!, it was off and a smooth, hairless spot was left behind. Not bad, he thinks to himself.

You say, "Wow, didn't even hurt."

Rio smiled proudly, a little glad you couldn't see how happy your comments were making him. He applied another warm strip on your pussy, but this one was a bit bigger than the last and waited, repeating the same process as before. You hum along to Ari Lennox and tap your fingers on your belly. "Any names for the baby?" You ask. "Are we bad parents for waiting this long to come up with a name?"

Rio chuckles at your question. "Probably," He shrugs taking off another patch of hair. "Still don't like Leo?"

You blow raspberries. "No."

"How about Dustin?"

Now it's turn to blow raspberries. "You know our kid isn't white right?"

You snicker at him. "Fine. Noah?"

He tilts his head. "Not bad. I don't mind that."

"Christopher Junior, and we call him CJ for short."

Rio laughs. "That's the one. That's his name. Settled."

"You are out of your mind, sorry." He knew you never liked the Juniors.

You two bounced off baby names as he continued. Talked about who he would look more like, what sport would he prefer to play, you argued maybe he'll be a spelling bee kid instead and Rio smiles at your optimism of what your child or children could be. You chat and before you know it he tells you that you're done. Front and back. You try to sit up and pout, you wouldn't be able to see it anyway, your eyes burn with incoming tears. Fuck, why did this pregnancy have to make you so sensitive?

Rio hears your sniffles. "I'll take a picture, darlin', don't worry."

He snaps a photo and hands you the phone. Wow. You were bald.

"Rio... this is crazy. You got every single hair." You giggle zooming in. "Did I?" He asks fighting a grin, he takes off his gloves and tosses them in the trash can inside the bathroom. "Should get you to do my brows next."

"Sixty bucks."

You scoff. "Your child is inside me, that's payment enough."

"Alright, moms discount." He surrenders, he kisses your knee. He winks up at you but his eyes quickly divert between your legs, your sex glistening under the light. But he knew the rules. Twenty-four hours. He places your leg on his shoulder, kissing your skin, his hand wavers over your heat. Temptation. The urge to slide his finger in there. You lick your teeth. "Twenty four." You remind him.

You glitch when you feel his fingertip between your folds. "Twenty... four..." He repeats closing his eyes. "Thank you for helping me." He assists you in sitting up and you rest your head on his chest. "I love you so much," You pucker your lips and he kisses you. "You're too good for me."

He sucks his teeth. "Nah, you're too good for me. I love you so much too."

"What do you want to do now?" He asks putting away his equipment. You smile mischievously. "Up to watch some hair tutorials?"

If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic.

Likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated.

No tags again. I’m just… tired rn lol sorry

[ereardon]

That Summer || Part Five [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, smut, alcohol

Chapter summary: Admiral Sullivan encourages Y/N to be nice to Bradley at their annual Fourth of July party; Y/N and Bradley make some fireworks of their own upstairs after; a discussion of the future sheds light on Bradley's post-summer plans

Wordcount: 3K

Series masterlist here; Part Four here; Part Six here

There was nothing like the stifling heat of Texas in July. 

Except, maybe, the stifling heat of Texas in August. 

As your parents prepared for their annual Fourth of July party, you sat upstairs wearing a string bikini, laying on the ground in front of the oscillating fan, covered in a thin layer of sweat, aching for the cool winters in California. 

You sat up as the door swung open. 

“Pumpkin?” 

He couldn’t see you on the other side of the bed. You sat up, pushing yourself to standing. “Yeah, daddy?” 

He nodded. “Your mother wants your help getting ready for the party.” 

“OK.” 

He lingered. Years of experience told you that your father lingering meant he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. Or he felt uncomfortable doing so. 

You tipped your head to one side. “Daddy?” 

He let out a sigh. “The Bradshaw boy? Has he talked to you much?” 

You shook your head. “No.” It was a lie, of course it was a lie. But your father would march upstairs and drag Bradley down by his throat if he found out what the two of you had done. 

What you were bound to do. 

Your father narrowed his eyes. He was imposing, you recognized that. To many, to most, he was all business, all the time. He had an air of importance and status that came with being an admiral. 

But you knew him as two people. One person was the admiral, stately and poised and never wrong. 

The other person was your friend. He was someone who took you on drives in the middle of the night to hear the waves of the ocean, and the person who snuck you out past bedtime to get ice cream while your mother fretted over you staying the same size until you had your first child. He was the person who bought you science books from a young age, who fostered the drive and desire to learn, who helped organize your hospital volunteer job the summer before when you announced you wanted to go to medical school. 

He was your ally. In every way you could ever imagine. 

Except for one. You knew that if he even got a whiff of you and Bradley it would be over. Everything you had, everything you imagined, would crumble beneath your fingertips. 

“Your mother would tell you to stay away,” he murmured. “And trust me when I say don’t get involved with him. But a little kindness would go a long way.” 

You frowned. What game was he playing? All of the sudden he wanted you to like Bradley? 

“Just be careful,” he added. “He’s coming to the party tonight. So be nice, Y/N. Be charitable.” 

You held back an eye roll. “Of course, daddy. I’m not rude.” 

He chuckled lightly. “Well then. Go help your mother.” His eyes narrowed. “And put on a shirt. We have boys coming from the rental company, can’t have you parading around in underwear.” 

And then he was gone. You laid back on the bed in a huff. Your parents' annual Fourth of July party used to be your favorite as a child. The lights, the canapes, the smell of the grill, the fireworks. But as you got older, you realized it was less of a party and more of a strategic gathering. There were social circles you were expected to swim in, and that came with obligations. You were tired of carrying the weight of those obligations.

Maybe having Bradley there would make it tolerable. 

***

Bradley stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, fidgeting with his shirt. Since he had moved in, all he wore were old collared shirts of your father’s. Back in California, Bradley had been a t-shirt and board shorts guy. He let his curling brown hair grow out and he had a perpetual tan from spending the days walking barefoot on the beach and around town. 

In Texas, Bradley was a ghost. A well dressed ghost, but a ghost. He drifted through the hallways of the house and felt like nobody saw him. 

Nobody, but you.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he left California for Texas. All he knew was that his mother had said to find you. That your family was his last resort. And he was out of options. 

He hadn’t thought that he would show up and the baby from that photograph would be a girl, practically a woman. That she would be beautiful. That she would be tender. That she would be able to heal the fractures he had assumed would plague him for the rest of his life. 

Bradley knew that no matter what, he couldn’t screw things up. It wouldn’t just mean losing the last chance he had at getting on his feet. 

It would mean losing you. And somehow, that was more daunting. 

***

Your eyes combed the crowd for Bradley. It was that way now. You did a sweep of the house when you got home from volunteering or hanging out with Ivy. It was the way your eyes scanned a room the moment you stepped inside. The way your breath caught in your throat when you’d spot him. 

Dark hair. Even, tanned skin. Brilliant smile when he saw you, his lips pulled back against pearly white teeth. 

He was beautiful. 

You were wearing a white dress that dipped low, tied tightly around your neck, hair pulled back into a bun, feet bare as you descended the stairs, the party in full swing. 

Despite the fact that your family had only been back in Texas for five years, your parents had quickly integrated themselves into the community. There was no distinction between society and the Sullivans. You were one and the same. 

That was evident by the way your mother looked, flitting around the large deck outside, seamlessly weaving between conversations about charity events and telling the caterers in hushed whispers when to bring out the next tray of food. You swore your mother had nine arms. She was refilling someone’s drink, laughing at someone’s joke, plucking garnish off of a tray, welcoming someone with a firm hug, all at once. 

She was everywhere. 

You passed by your father, chatting with a group of men in the kitchen. He kissed your temple lightly and slid you a glass of champagne with a wink. You took it with a smile and headed outside, out onto the deck, overlooking the water. 

“Y/N.” 

You grimaced. Pierce Lasseter. He had his eye on you ever since you moved, and you couldn’t shake him. His mother was on all of the same boards as your mother. His father was the local internal medicine doctor. He was everywhere, too, just like your mother. On the golf course, at the market down the road, opening the door at the coffee shop. You couldn’t shake him, as hard as you tried. 

Pierce wasn’t awful. He was tall, with a full head of hair, and a bright smile. But he had an annoying voice, and he was persistent. You knew for a fact that he didn’t want you for you. He wanted you because he thought you fit the mold he was expected to meet. You were the kind of girl his parents wanted for him. 

“Pierce,” you said in a fake voice, turning around with a smile. 

His eyes lingered on your chest for a moment too long and you felt bile pile up in your throat. Then he looked at the crystal champagne flute in your hands. “Are you drinking?” he asked. 

You took a sip. “No, you’re imagining things.” 

He squinted. “Are you sure you should be drinking?” 

You let out a sigh. “So, when do you head off to Connecticut?” 

Pierce was going to Yale in the fall. You, and everyone else on the island, knew that he was a shoo in. Dr. Lasseter was an alum and it was a big part of his personality, to say the least. Pierce was the same. 

He grinned. 

“You remembered.” 

How could you forget when it was every other sentence out of his mouth. You nodded. “Yup.” 

He leaned one bony elbow on the deck railing near you. You could smell him: mint and Coca Cola. It made your stomach roll. “Want to go for a walk on the beach?” he asked, voice low. “Maybe watch the fireworks together?”

You tried to hide your distaste. “That sounds lovely, but I can’t.” His face fell. “We have a house guest and daddy asked me to look after him.” 

Pierce looked around. “Oh yeah. I heard about the boy upstairs. What’s his story?” 

“Bradley,” you gritted out. 

“What?” 

“His name is Bradley,” you repeated and Pierce narrowed his eyes. “He’s a family friend, that’s all.” 

“From what I’ve heard, he’s odd,” Pierce said, his voice dipping. “Always skulking around. Neighbors think he’s a burglar or something.” 

“That’s bullshit,” you snapped and Pierce’s eyes went wide. You realized your mistake as soon as it happened. He couldn’t know. He would be the first person to rat you out. You reached out, pressing one hand to Pierce’s linen-clad arm. He grinned. “Listen, I have to go help my mother with the caterers. Catch you later?” 

You let your fingers linger on his arm for a moment longer than necessary. Pierce looked down before his eyes met yours again. There was hope in his. You almost felt guilty. 

Almost. 

You smiled at him and made a beeline for the stairs, spotting your mother down on the sand dunes, her face glowing with the nearby bonfire. She spotted you from a mile away and her smile dissipated into a frown when she clocked the drink in your hand. 

“Excuse me,” she said softly to the woman on her right. Her talons gripped your arm tightly. “Y/N. Are you drinking?” 

“One glass, mother,” you said, shoving the crystal stemware into her hand. “Relax.” 

“You’ll be the death of me,” she sighed, “I swear.” Her thin neck craned around. “Where is that boy?” she asked. 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Daddy sent me to look for him.” 

“Oh he did?” Her voice betrayed her emotions. She was easy to read, your mother. Too easy. “Well, go on then. If your father asked.” 

You skittered away, thankful for the break from her watchful eye as she quickly fell into conversation with another neighbor. 

Just as you were spinning in circles at the base of the stairwell on the side of the house, you heard a familiar voice. “Hi Birdy.” 

Bradley had a cup full of punch in one hand, the other firmly in the pocket of a pair of Nantucket red shorts you were sure your father hadn’t worn in decades. He looked slightly uncomfortable in his white button-down shirt, but you couldn’t help but think that he wore the clothes well. You wondered what the old Bradley looked like. 

The real Bradley. 

“Hi,” you whispered excitedly. The drinks were flowing, the music was pumping out of the house in waves. You knew that fireworks were imminent. The two of you probably had thirty minutes at the most. “Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm, pulling him out into the open. “We should walk around. So people know you’re one of us.” 

“One of you?” Bradley huffed. “I’m the outsider, Bird. Always will be.” 

You shook your head, letting your fingers brush his arm softly before falling to your side. “No, you’re not. You’re with me, that’s what counts.” 

The two of you made your way around the bonfire, smiling softly at other guests. A few stopped you to introduce themselves to Bradley. He smiled politely and shook their hands as you explained that he was a family friend staying for the summer. 

Up on the deck, you ate hot dogs and washed them down with spiked lemonade. Your father spotted the two of you chatting casually near the railing and smiled from afar, nodding his head in your direction. 

“It’s almost time,” you whispered to Bradley, urging him to put down his glass and follow you back down the stairs. 

“Time for what?” 

“Come on!” 

You were rushing down the stairs, the still-warm sand sinking around your feet by the time Bradley was still only halfway down the wooden staircase. He followed you around the corner, out toward the dunes, where you sat down directly on the sand. 

Bradley turned to you, mouth open in a silent question, when the first crack of a firework split open the sky. The two of you gazed across the water as another burst of light swelled and sparked across the darkness. 

Fireworks, no matter how old you got, never ceased to amaze you. The brightness against the still dark sky. The loud bangs and pops. The rich colors. You turned and watched Bradley’s face, mouth open wide in awe, brown eyes wide, taking it all in. 

In the sand, his hand found yours and gave your fingers a squeeze. You turned back to the fireworks with a smile. 

You would never forget that moment. 

***

Later, once all the food trays were loaded back onto the catering vans and all of the dishes had been rinsed and the tables down under the deck had been folded back up and the hot tub cover had been pulled shut, your mother called it quits. Your father nodded passively, ripping out the last check for the valets, handing it over with a grunt. He turned to you and Bradley, sitting in the breakfast nook, eating leftover pieces of blueberry pie. 

“Goodnight, Pumpkin,” he said softly, kissing your forehead. 

“Night, Daddy.” 

He looked at Bradley. “Goodnight, Bradley.” 

“Goodnight, sir.” 

The two of them looked at each other for a moment before your father excused himself. It was just you and Bradley, alone in the kitchen. How different that moment was compared to the first morning he had been in the kitchen as you came downstairs. How much had changed. 

How much had stayed the same. 

The two of you couldn’t get upstairs fast enough, rinsing your plates hastily, shutting off all the lights on the main floor before racing, silently, to the tower room. 

Bradley sat down on the edge of the bed, moonlight streaming in through the large circular window over the bed, and held out his arms, beckoning you forward. 

Wordlessly you went to him, slotted yourself between his legs, running your fingers through his hair as his large hands worked their way up your bare thighs, dipping beneath the hem of your dress until he hit your white lace thong. 

Gently, he tugged it down your legs and you stepped out of it, blushing. 

“Birdy,” he whispered, voice coarse and low and that alone made you tremble. “You tell me to stop, we stop.” 

You reached down, pushing your mouth across his. “Don’t stop,” you murmured into his mouth. 

When you pulled back, Bradley grinned. “Lay down for me, baby,” he whispered. 

You did as he said, your legs hanging off the side of the bed as Bradley knelt on the wooden ground at the edge of the bed, his mouth hot across your inner knee. 

“Is this OK?” he asked quietly. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “Please,” you begged. “I need you.” 

And then Bradley was everywhere. His hands dragging the fabric of your dress up to your hip bones, his hands smoothing over your thighs before grabbing your waist, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until he was breathing, ragged, over your core. He stalled for so long that you were about to sit up, cover yourself out of shame. But then he dipped his head, pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking up your excitement as you choked back a strangled moan. 

Bradley licked up to your clit, circling the bud softly as you whimpered above him, your fingers tangled in his curly hair. He tipped his head down, tongue lapping at your folds, nose nudging your swollen clit, soft cries leaving your mouth as he worked you softly and tenderly until you were falling apart across his mouth. 

He pulled back, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, kissing your thigh gently as you lay panting on the bed. Finally, you sat up and looked at him. 

“Shit,” you whispered, and the curse word on your tongue no longer felt that foreign. 

Bradley slid onto the bed next to you, folding you carefully into his arms. You tightened your grip on his forearm. 

“What happens,” you whispered, “at the end of the summer? Where do you go from here?” 

Bradley shrugged softly. “I don’t know.” 

“College?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “I don’t have money for college.” 

“What about a scholarship?” 

“Didn’t get very good grades,” he admitted. “It was hard, with everything else going on.” 

Your fingers brushed lightly over his cheek, against his faded scars. “I’m sure. That’s OK, we can figure something out.” 

He smiled. “We?” 

You nodded. “Don’t you realize, Bradley Bradshaw? We belong to each other now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” 

His arms squeezed you tightly. “You can’t protect me,” he said quietly. “If love could protect someone, I never would have been hurt. My mother was the best person I’ve ever known. She loved me and she did everything she could.” He was quiet for a moment. “I think you would have liked her.” 

“I know I would have.” 

“She wanted me to come here,” he said. “Maybe she knew, somehow, that I’d find you. That it would change everything.” 

You pressed your forehead against his. “I’ll never let you go. You’ll never have to be alone again. I promise.” 

Tag list (or turn on notifications for my library page @ereardon):

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@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @xoxabs88xox @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @teacupsandtopgun

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@babyminghao @taytaylala12 @bradshawseresinbabe @theweekndhistorybook

[amloveabledeathmo]

A Stranger Things Steve Harrington Eddie Munson fic summary for an idea I will probably never have the energy to write.

So to start off it's a few years down the line and Eddie is touring with Corroded Coffin and Robin is getting a degree in something cool and Steve has dabbled with college but didn't really find it to be to his liking. He thinks about what makes him happy and it's of course Eddie and Robbin and the kids. Since his parents are the ones with money he decides to talk to them about his big idea. He wants to buy Hawkins high school (idk why it's not being used, maybe they built a new one) that he went to and convert it into a large house where he can become a full time foster parent.

Surprisingly his parents are more than happy to bankroll this project since they have been looking for ways to help the family name with volunteer work but neither of them were interested so this way they can say they are helping children in need and that their son gave up everything to be the best foster parent he could.

Steve is excited and tells Eddie and Robin. Eddie is on tour so can't do much but Robin starts helping all the time. Her and Steve pick out rooms for themselves and then design every classroom into a bedroom complete with walk in closet and bathroom. Each room has a queen bed, a desk with a good chair, beanbags. They figure it's best to keep things simple where the kids can easily decorate the rooms to their liking.

Robin gets given four tomato starts out of a red wagon on her way home one day which starts her on a gardening adventure. They are able to plan out an amazing garden and playground.

Steve's parents are in town and decide to take Steve to the mall to shop for some bedding/accessories for the house (and get photos for their bragging networking).

Eddie finds out about the mall plans from Steve and drives straight to the mall to meet him at the food court. He's just off a tour but wanted to see Steve who is so excited that Eddie put him above sleep. When Steve sees his parents he asks if Eddie wants to hang out with them but Eddie is way to tired so declines. They both stand up and give each other a good hug, arms wrapped around the other with their noses tucked into the others neck. Eddie leaves.

When Steve is shopping with his parents they start asking about his friend. Steve doesn't really elaborate too much as he is occupied on picking the best most fun things out he can.

His parents ask him to dinner the next night and tell him they wouldn't mind if he wanted to bring someone else. Steve is oblivious. At dinner his parents ask increasingly less subtle questions before finally just asking why Steve had never told them or introduced them to his girlfriend. Steve gets defensive about Robin and they're like no we know she's gay, your girlfriend from the mall.

Steve is flabbergasted. His dad starts asking if it's because his girlfriend dresses too alternative or looks too masculine and thought that they wouldn't approve. Steve doesn't know how to explain.

He ends up telling Eddie all about it and Eddie agrees to a harebrained scheme of playing Steve's girlfriend. Shenanigans ensue, including two oh shit I'm attracted to my male best friend crisis's. They end up kissing somehow, Steve confesses that Eddie is a guy not a girl and his parents are like yay now our selfless son is also gay which gives us another in to certain society members and events.

Eddie and Steve foster many kids, and adopt some. Eddie gets to be a famous rock star and Robin lives at the house with them and her eventual partner so the kids end up with four parents. All around a good time.

@steddiehyperfixation I had this idea and was hoping you'd have thoughts on it lol.

[izicodes]

Tuesday 12th December 2023

End of September: I quit my first proper tech job after 2 years.

End of October: I applied for university on a whim and got a place.

Start of December: Randomly got a new tech job without searching.

God blessing me left, right, and center?! That's just a summary of what's been happening the past few months. I will go into more detail below~!

Here are some tips for talking to people on LinkedIn: post 💕

If you're wondering how I got here in terms of my coding journey: video | post 💕

End of September

I quit my job because it was getting tiring and I couldn't see any chance of me developing there. I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to do my apprenticeship with them and then go on to become their Jr Web Developer - but from there, everything felt static. When the projects being given were getting absolutely boring, I knew then I needed some kind of change. So, I just quit. I said on a Monday I was quitting and that same Friday, I left. Politely and respectfully, of course.

End of October

I was so random how I did this but my Dad suggested for me to apply to university. I told him I didn't even have the right qualifications they wanted. He said "Bet". We looked at the local universities and none mentioned any apprenticeship certifications but mentioned work experience in the field. I applied with that knowledge. Wrote the cringiest personal statement about why the universities should accept me - and it worked. I got into the university of my city which seemed super prestigious to me, 18-year-old me would be screaming that I got a place at the university that I deemed for super smart people.

I made a post about it: link 💕

Start of December

My plan now was to wait until university next September 2024. I planned to relax, level up my current skills by myself or helping via volunteering, and maybe get a few certificates (because I love my name on certificates), and, most importantly: catch up on some anime shows - which I did complete:

Ushio & Tora: 2nd Season

Hunter x Hunter

Vinland Saga

JOJO Part 5 (again)

Jujutsu Kaisen 2nd Season (still watching)

Basically, I was supposed to relax until around February time, then start looking for a new job - tech or non-tech.

!! At this point, I was not looking for a new job !!

Last Tuesday I got a message from a recruiter on LinkedIn saying my profile was cool and would love to help me get an interview for a Frontend Software Engineer position in the city. I had a hunch to tell him I was okay and wasn't looking for a new job right now, but I was getting bored recently and this to me was an exciting new thing to do, so I said yeah why not!

The meeting was on the following Thursday and I met the IT manager. He liked me (same back to him) and wanted me to meet the team next Monday (yesterday). Afterward, I was feeling "Oh wait this is getting serious, I'm only here on a whim, like I'm actually doing good?" so I thought "Okay let's make an effort on the next 'interview'!!".

Monday came and I met the funniest set of people ever in a tech team. Then I thought "Lowkey highkey... would be so cool to work here~!" and the feedback I got was really positive. I got the job. Today I talked to their HR to finalise things.

All of this is thanks to the Almighty God, Lord Jesus, and the Holy Spirit of course~~! 🥰🙏🏾☦️

[writing-in-sin]

KaiShin scene fic idea: Kyoto arc

I dunno if it'll just be a part of a fic or a fic itself based on the idea of Kaito being there in Kyoto too simply to keep his reckless Tantei-kun safe but I just want Kaito to be there in Kyoto

Shinichi doesn't want to admit it, but he's happy and excited to have KID around not unlike when he mistakenly thought Vermouth was Kaito

It could be a willing favour he takes up when Haibara and Hakase told him about the school field trip (in this fic idea, they've come to a truce after the Bell Tree Express). While they dont know his identity yet, they do know Kaito hangs out at Blue Parrot since Jii is a friend of Hakase's

Anyways, since I headcanon that Kaito is a year older than Shinichi, Shinichi has a habit of calling Kaito 'senpai' or 'Kai' in private moments. While he has all the clues for KID's identity, Shinichi keeps it to himself as a sign of trust until KID himself does the reveal

Which Kaito does when he waits by his motorcycle at the hotel's entrance, phone in hand

---------

"Hello?" Shinichi answers, standing with the rest of his class as they wait for their teacher's instruction and feeling a little confused at the unknown number

A familiar voice chuckles, dark and smooth with dangerous mischief. "A little Ojou-chan told me that you're doin' something reckless without me. Which, unfair, so I'd thought of joining you."

"...hah?"

"What's wrong, Shinichi?" Ran asks

But Shinichi can't hear anything besides the thumping of his heart, anticipation and excitement coursing through him. "Are you--?"

"Look up, Tantei-kun."

And he does, eyes finding KID on instinct across from him and without realizing it, a beaming smile blooms across his face not unlike the sunflowers KID likes to give him

"Senpai!" a breathy laugh tumbles out, disbelief and excitement mixing as Shinichi jogs up to KID

KID pushes away from his bike, wearing his preferred style of clothing that he rarely wears around Ekoda to avoid questions about his more powerful physique because of his life as a phantom thief

Noting this, Shinichi takes in KID under the sunlight for the first time. The pitch black hair. The gold eyes that darkens into indigo-violet when they reach his pupils. The blue jeans and black leather jacket over a white v-neck that hides absolutely nothing of the powerful body underneath

But its the familiar roguish grin on a dangerously handsome face, the dark glint dancing in those summer night eyes that will always gives KID away

Shinichi reaches out, hand on cool leather above a beating heart and chuckles when it doesn't fade away into an illusion. "You're here. Under the sunlight."

"Thought it was about time that Kuroba Kaito gets to spend time with you too, Tantei-kun." Kaito smiles, soft and private when shocked blue eyes snap up at him as he tucks a sunflower behind Shinichi's ear. "Not like you didn't already know who I am though, hm, Meitantei?"

Shinichi blinks before returning the smile and lightly punches a sturdy shoulder. "Wanted you to tell me when you were ready, barou."

Kaito snickers

They break apart when a teacher calls out. "Would you be Kuroba-kun by any chance? The volunteer for the tour?"

"That's me." Giving a showman's bow, Kaito smiles with cool politeness and offers a rose to the woman. "At your service."

Amused at the flustered teacher, Shinichi raises a brow at the magician. "Volunteer?"

"I spend a lot of my time here because of a family friend." Kaito grins, sneaking an arm around Shinichi's waist to pull the detective close. His grin widens when Shinichi merely rolls his eyes before settling into his side, used to his antics by now. "So who better than me to offer a tour for this ancient capital?"

Shinichi huffs. "A local?"

"Ah, but knowing me, does that answer still stand?"

Knowing by now that KI- Kaito can most likely impersonate a local from decades past, Shinichi shakes his head. "Fine, fine."

They share a laugh, making their way to where the rest of Teitan are

-----

That's all I've got for now. If you've read this up until the end, thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it

[nerdieforpedro]

Patrolling on Christmas

Joel Miller x plus size female reader

Fanfiction rating: Teens and up

My blog overall is 18+

Word Count: approx 2.5k

Summary: Joel prefers patrol rather to be around others at Christmas, even after spending a few years in Jackson. He’s paired up with you on patrol and it’s not so bad. If asked, he may even say fair.

Warnings: Post outbreak, cursing, Joel is a grump, depression, survivors’ remorse/guilt, jokes about The Bard, damn knees and back, a fall, minor injury, ending fluff

Notes: I wanted to write Christmas Joel. I was going for sweet & happy. Post-outbreak Joel cropped up and my post shift mood determined that This is The Way. Merry Christmas 🎄 It’s got a sliver of sweet.

“Patrol can wait a day Joel. I don’t get why you’re still so damn weird about Christmas. It’s just all of us gathering at the Tipsy Bison and talking shit. No one’s going to ask you to do anything, not even me for fuck’s sake.” Elle threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

“...Language Elle.” Joel reminded her.

“I mean, I agree, language, but she’s right. There’s other people on rotation who can-” Tommy with his arms crossed explains, trying to put on a stern face. Doesn’t affect Joel at all.

“Shut it. I said I’m goin’. That’s it. See you tonight.” Heavy boots stepped out of the house and stopped on the porch looking back. “Have fun. Stay out of trouble.” With that, he adjusted the rifle that was over his shoulder and made his way to the perimeter to meet up with his patrol partner. He was expecting Sam or John but tried to control his eyebrows raising at the sight of you. He thought you’d join the others at the festivities.

Just like in the world before the outbreak, no one wanted to work holidays. The few holidays that were still celebrated anyway. Joel volunteered in part because the holidays always reminded him of the people he’d lost and it kept his brain from wandering to the dark recesses of his mind. If he kept busy, followed tasks and tired himself to the point of exhaustion, he’d briefly say goodnight to Elle and collapse in his bed. Then he may be blessed with the void of sleep, where his mistakes and failings may not play back through his head because he’s shut down.

The former smuggler wasn’t disappointed or annoyed that you’d be patrolling with him. In fact, it was likely best. You alternated between silence and run-on sentences about any and everything. That also removed his thoughts from being on himself. He even found himself chuckling on occasion at something you’d say that he found funny. He knew you didn’t mean it to come out that way, but hearing about horoscopes that you thought you remembered and comparing them with Maria and the other ladies based on some old papers they’d found was weird as it was ridiculous to Joel. It was good to have a bit of silliness in this hopeless world.

The both of you checked your weapons, you had a revolver in addition to your rifle. You said that you won it in a bet with Fred that Joel would ‘fire’ you as a patrol partner. Joel was curious as to why. You didn’t look directly at him when you told him why. Your gift of gab and keeping things light as well as your build which was short, stocky and thought to be poor for evading clickers, raiders and hunters. Fred wasn’t wrong in that respect outright, but you’d learned to either hide well or improve your aim to prevent them from getting to you.

Joel noted that Fred was a bigger asshole than he thought.

“Doesn't matter. What does is that I get the job done and come home. Let’s go.” Joel followed your lead, it seemed the bet you’d have with Fred had spurred action in you, not a bad thing, but it’s best to keep a cool head.

“Keep focused. Raiders and clickers don’t give two shits about Christmas.” Joel adjusted his rifle again as the two of you walked, it was a familiar path around the Jackson settlement. Shorter than normal patrol.

“I almost thought Elle was with me instead of you Miller with you talking like that.” A light laugh made Joel feel more at ease. ‘That’s more like normal. Am I sounding like Elle? Dammit.’ He wondered if he needed to worry about his own language use. The sun was high behind the clouds, peeking through every so soften as the crunch of grass and dirt was heard from both of your boots.

You still weren’t saying much and Joel had no clue what to say to get you talking. He suggested about halfway that you both sit on a rock. You offered it to him first on account of his knees. Joel’s face contorted into a scowl and refused to sit until you sat down first. When you saw that he was serious, you sat down and patted the space left on the rock and he took his seat next to you. The elder Miller brother turned away from you to keep an eye out as you did on your side. His knees stopped screaming at him that they ached, they only whispered now.

The crisp air reminded Joel that he was alive. His hair flopped with the wind, his eyes squinting slightly to get a better look at the trees and lake in the distance. He flexed and relaxed his fingers, feeling calm when he should be on high alert. Sometimes Joel found himself concerned that he wasn’t built for a calmer life. That he desired the chaos of the unknown instead of the predictability of the commune “Tommy refused to call a spade a spade. The damn place is nice, but it is a commune…” Joel muttered aloud grinning, he recalled discussing it with his brother and him being so adamant about it.

“I mean, a rose by any other name is, well not a rose. I feel like it's supposed to be more poetic than that.” Her answer made Joel turn his head slightly before keeping his face front, he still needs to be aware of any threats.

“I never had much use for The Bard. Especially now. The hell’s that pentameter shit gonna do with a clicker?”

“I’m surprised you remember that Joel. I just remember Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet. Tights and Plays, I think.”

“Full of surprises darlin’, even with these sore knees.” The broad man stood as you turned to look back at him. Hair bouncing on his head and a wry smile on his face. “We should get a move on, ya good?” He saw you nod and stand, though he couldn’t quite make out the look on your face. Maybe he did really surprise you, the thought alone made Joel put a half a pep in his step. His knees would be back to screeching soon enough. This time around you let him lead as you chatted about what the both of you knew about Shakesphere, neither of you remembered much so the two of you started making up things that he may put in a Christmas play.

“There’s gotta be some weird trickster spirit fairies that give good children presents and punish bad children. Plus ghosts, there’s usually a ghost.”

“Hamlet’s daddy came back as a ghost right? Might be a dead relative of whoever the play’s ‘bout. Also need a big feast. There’s also food.”

“Don’t talk about food Joel, I’m going to be even more hungry.”

“They always have turkey legs and grapes and wine at those things I think. I feel like that’s what was always in them plays as props.”

“You’ve seen a Sharkesphere play?”

There was a moment where Joel was quiet. “Now Darlin’ keep this to yourself. I maybe was one of those cousins of Romeo or Juliet. Don’t ‘member which one thou.” he heard you stop walking and looked to see what was wrong. Your face was beaming with this piece of information. Joel almost regretted it, but still wanted you to know. He needed not to think about why, he’d go back in the recesses of his mind again that connected to those emotions. They’re locked away to keep him functioning. “Told ya we gotta move. I’ll leave you right there.” He began walking again and heard your steps move to catch up with him.

It was when the gate to Jackson was within view. It was another period of silence after finishing the conversation about the bard and you asking several questions about Joel’s short stint in acting. He said it didn’t suit him and continued with football. You then asked if maybe he sang since they can sometimes go hand in hand. That wasn’t what did it, Joel heard you tell him that he had the voice for it. Sure it was a little raspy, but what he was able to communicate in verbal and non-verbal cues suited some songs.

Joel Miller is not an easy man to surprise. He’s seen too much, done too much and been through too much for that. At least he thought he had, and when he stopped walking, his foot got caught on some underbrush and he tried to break his fall. His left hand hitting a sharp rock and he went down. Would he be able to get up? How badly was he injured? He didn’t feel his knees right now…nope, never mind. He felt them, even more than before. He heard you yell and move by his side, he was slightly out of it and you weren’t able to lift him all the way.

“Sweetheart, don’t ruin your back. Gimmie a few.” He told you, sure he was embarrassed but he could sulk about that later. Joel really did need to get off the ground. It was cold, he was sore and anything could happen. He’s completely open. Slowly, he rolled on his side and sat up with a loud groan. The worried look on your face made him sigh, he’s supposed to be the experienced one here and he falls right in front of home basically. “Hands darlin’.” Joel stretched his large hands toward yours and you pulled him up, using your body weight to force him upright. He hopped up and took a minute to adjust, large hands holding your small ones. Joel knew he held them a few seconds more than was necessary, but he told himself it was to ensure he was steady so he wouldn’t fall again. But he knew it wasn’t, and it was no help when you decided to walk at side by side with one of your hands on his back. Normally he’d fight you on it as he did with the rock, but he doesn’t mind it being there and understands that you’re trying to help.

Your hand left Joel’s back when you two could see the guards at Jackson’s gate. Joel decided the least he could do was walk you back to your house after reporting in. Nothing unusual, no raiders or clickers. No news was good news. Your house is smaller than Joel’s, it is meant for one person. A small wreath is on your door with a red and gold bow.

“Maria said I had to put something on my door. I’ve never been much for decorating. You have to put it away later.” You explained and unlocked your door, letting him in. You had a couch, kitchen, cabinet with a few books and a dented wooden globe. Tommy had let you keep it and you weren the only person interested in it so he said it was fine you took the thing. All of them had pieces of garland on them. “Sit down Joel, I’m gonna wrap your hand.”

Joel instead walked over to the sink and rinsed his hand under some cold water. “Nah darlin’ you’ve done plenty.” Apparently, you’d had a small first-aid kit. Joel wondered what you may have traded to get one, or what you may have done to earn one.

“If you won’t sit, then I’ll wrap it while you stand. You might want to be nice to your knees though. I won’t have you falling in here.” You’re teasing him, he doesn’t hate it. Joel resigns himself to his fate and plops on your couch, noting some mistletoe on the wooden post next to the loveseat he just sat on. It looked like it was slapped up there. “Maria and Kelly decorated, hence all the garland, I never noticed that though.” Your eyes rolled and you sat next to Joel and took some supplies out of the kit, dabbing and cleaning his hand before adding some clean gauze and wrapping it. You taped it and Joel complemented your work, it was better that it was covered as to stave off an infection. He knew he didn’t need anything like that.

Not thinking about it, Joel patted your thigh before standing up, “Thanks darlin’. Didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’ll be on my way.” He realized he needed to go. It’s been too long any he can’t. He needs to wrap his head around this if he can. Maybe not his head. He just made room for Elle in his heart, would he have room for you too? Did you even want to be there? You’re friendly and talkative with everyone, it just seems special because Joel is aware of how prickly he is. But you’re not treating him differently, he’s reading into it. He may be heavily starved for companionship.

Those heavy boots of his start to carry him toward your door. He’s bid you goodbye, but you grab his arm. “Darlin’ I-”

“Joel, wait.” He closes his eyes for a moment, then stops. His boots step toward you, Joel looks down at you, trying to discover what’s on your face, but it’s something he recognizes - longing. “Could I just, just close your eyes Joel.” He shakes his head, but your grip on his arm doesn’t wane, he allows his body to relax with an exhale.

“S’alright. Don’t feel ya hafta do-”

“I don’t have to do anything. Yes, I know. Just close your eyes will you? This is the most I’ve heard you talk today Joel.” He ended up bending forward slightly, tipping his chin down and his face toward you. A pair of soft lips touched his cheek, right above his graying beard. “M-Marry Christmas Joel. That’s all I wanted to do.”

A smirk spread on Joel’s face, “Sure about that Sweetheart?” He was aware he was playing a dangerous game, but it was enjoyable. He was one for some risk. You huffed which he found adorable, your other hand found its way to his cheek and pinched him.

“I’m sure Joel Miller. Go on home and rest. Your back and knees will thank you. Dream of the bard while you’re at it.” Joel and you chuckled and you lowered your hand as he caught it, kissing the back of it and then your forehead.

“Not going to dream of some puffy bard darlin’, got someone a lot sweeter on my mind. Merry Christmas to you too. Sleep well.” Your grip on his arm loosened and he dropped your hand, heading to the door before opening and exiting your home. He stood on the porch to hear you lock it, then he started walking to he and Elle’s home.

Joel Miller might be ready to let someone in this Christmas.

Joel Miller’s Sweethearts: @morallyinept @fhatbhabie @goodwithcheese @trulybetty @for-a-longlongtime @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @maggiemayhemnj @undercoverpena @alltheglitterandtheroar @pedrodascal @linzels-blog @lincolndjarin @pedritapascal @sp00kymulderr @movievillainess721 @perotovar @pamasaur @magpiepillsjunior @yorksgirl @guelyury @legendary-pink-dot