#it's been a week since he's been stuck down there

[hedgehog-moss]

The lower rung of the ladder in my kitchen broke last month and I stuck a little Post-it note on the wall to remind myself to step over the missing rung so I wouldn't break my leg every time I go up or downstairs—but then my mum came to visit and she saw me hopping over the gap in the ladder with practised ease and her face was the definition of "you live like this?" And she went to get a screwdriver to unscrew the ladder from the wall so we could carry it outside and repair it.

Some people see a broken ladder and immediately open a toolbox to fix the problem; some people see a broken ladder and stick a Post-it note to the wall to train themselves to step over the problem forever. (I admit my response is inferior.)

I think I felt daunted at the thought of tinkering with this ladder because it's been here in the same place for over a century and I pictured the whole thing crumbling into dust if we tried to move it—but no, it's still solid, except the lower rung. Which wasn't damaged by time, but by Pandolf. (And some insects. But mostly Pandolf.)

When he was a baby, for a week or so after I took him home, he was extremely upset about having to spend the night in his dog bed in the kitchen while I went upstairs to my bedroom, he would cry and cry and one night in a fit of despair and rage he attacked the ladder. The next morning I found the lower rung (the only one he could reach) looking like it had been attacked by a termite colony, but it was Pandolf's pointy little puppy teeth. By the look of it he'd spent half the night furiously gnawing on it until he dropped from exhaustion—his reasoning was clearly that if he destroyed the ladder, I wouldn't be able to go upstairs anymore and would be forced to spend the night on the floor of the kitchen with him.

It's really hard to be mad at baby Pandolf, though. Go on, try.

Eventually he got used to sleeping in his dog bed and he abandoned his ladder destruction project, but the lower rung has been fragile ever since, and it finally broke last month.

My mum is extremely efficient; she sent me to the barn to find some kind of thick board (you can find anything in the barn if you have a torch and aren't afraid of bats or century-old spiderwebs) and when I came back she had prepared all the tools and taken all the measurements.

The worst part was tapering the sides so the rung would fit in the notches, because if one side was a little bit thinner than the other then it was wobbly—

—plus I used a file at first and it took forever (Pandolf was so bored), but then I remembered I own a sanding machine and it went a lot faster. So much so that my mum said I should make a second rung while I was at it—she was motivated to replace all of them, but then it started raining and we decided the rest of the ladder is solid enough and we'll replace the rungs two at a time.

I always forget that it feels satisfying to fix things! There's this little spark of pride from then on when you look at the repaired thing because you helped make it. I tend to procrastinate because I assume it'll take ages or I'm worried I'll do it wrong, until someone who's more confident with their hands than me goes like "no come on, we just need a saw, a file, a hammer, it'll take an hour tops" and we do it and it's never as difficult as I feared. (My mum: "We gave you a toy toolbox when you were little, to smash sexist stereotypes, and you're afraid of fixing things :( ...") (I cheered her up by reminding her that my brother smashes sexist stereotypes by being also afraid of fixing things.)

But yeah I spent half an hour sanding down the sides of these two lower rungs and now I look at my ladder and remember the delightful feeling of getting the tapering just right and inserting them into their slots effortlessly like a VHS tape into a VCR. I have a whole new affection for my kitchen ladder now.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

I want some Quinn smut/fluff maybe he’s stressed and he asks to c0ckwarm? I’m sorry I’m H WORD

April | Quinn Hughes x Reader

Warnings: p in v (unprotected), language, dirty talk, and I think that it?!

Summary: Quinn and Y/N have some fun after being stuck at home, the terrible rain storms caused the caunucks team practice to be canceled, and they end up getting active at the end of the day.

A:N- as usual not proof read, and I’m glad you enjoy the Quinn content!! Sorry I couldn’t add much but I did write a bit🫶

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

It’s the first week if spring. April 7th. It’s so relaxing being in Vancouver, we have an off day, we play the Vegas Golden Knights tomorrow.

“Baby?” Quinn says as he knocks on our bedroom door. “Do we have more brown sugar?” I’m guessing Quinn is trying to bake.

“No. You’re not baking. Not again, you almost burnt our house down last time.” I say as I get up, I’m dressed in black leggings and a red sports bra, on top I have a white shirt that belongs to Quinn.

How sweet. He knows I’ve been craving for ye taste of homemade baked goods. He’s such a man.

“I can see your undergarments.” Quinn motions to my red bra, I know he’s really horny, but it’s a tuff time, regular season is ending, and everyone is fighting for their playoff games. So I promise him that I won’t distract him by having ex with him.

I pull at his chain and I step on my tiptoes. “Yes, yes you can. And don’t call it that, just be grown and call it a bra.” I say as I stare into his blue eyes. His nose touches mine. Quinn pushed his forehead on mine, I feel him getting closer. I pull away and pull his shirt with me.

“Stop walking me. I’m not a dog.” Quinn starts to whine. He sure seems like one.

I take him to our kitchen downstairs. Quinn is wearing blavk shorts and has his blue support boxers on, he’s also really shirtless. He turbs me on everytime I see him.

“Are you on your period?” Quinn asks me.

Weird.

“No, why?” I respond, I’m thinking he’s just really gross and has a kink for blood.

“Just wondering.” Quinn states as he turns in his heels and pulls at the fridge door to grab some milk. He’s baking brownies. I think he’s making the chewy brownies that I love. “I’ll just make the regular brownies then. Since we don’t have brown sugar.” Quinn looks at me and he pulls my neck into his chest as he walks me to our couch.

“This is our only day together until I have to train next week.” Quinn mentions as he sits on top of me. I feel his hard cock on my pelvis. I look down and he’s rocking his hips onto me. His hair is dangling down, so as his chain. I pull him down onto me as he kisses my neck all the way down to my knees. I feel him breathing in my pussy.

I hear hard rain hitting the roof of our home. Lighting crashes, thunder hits. A storm rolls in, spring it is.

“Baby, not now.” I say pulling him up. He grunts as he forcefully picks me up and he takes my leggings off.

He breathed heavy once again, noticing I’m not wearing panties underneath my clothes.

“Hm…” Quinn trails off looking at my see through shirt and looks at my red bralette.

“Lovely.” He says as he locks onto my hands. I’m holding on to this arms as he cradles me as if I’m a baby. He rushes up to our bedroom and he pins me up against our slightly open closet door. I see my lingerie hanging in our closet as my back shuts the door closed. I can sense he wants more than just kisses.

He pulls off my shirt as he swoops his shorts and boxers iff. He looks me up and down. He starts with my boob. He licks my right nipple, and he starts to massage my left breast. He slips my bra off and I’m bare. Nothing on my skin. His dick slaps agisnt his lower abdomen. He licks his hand as he jerks himself. He starts to groan. He’s cock is growing on his hand as I start to get horny as well.

“You’re not in your period, so I can fuck you as hard as I please.” Quinn stares as he strokes my cunt. He pleads that I don’t move.

“No, because I promised-“ I mentions the promise of no distractions.

“You’re helping me get rid of distractions, you’ll never be a problem in my life.” Quinn respond eagerly, he goes down my hips. He licks my bud. He starts to get me at the verge of cumming. He pulls away soon as I squirt. Lights go out. I hear all the power turn off. The fan, the music that was playing downstairs, the oven preheating, and the electric lock that held our home closed off to the public had all been turned off.

Quinn didn’t care, he stuffed three fingers into my opening, and he stared to caress my pussy. He pumped and pumped, he got up and used my precum on his hands to get himself wet.

He pushed me onto our bed, and he stuffed his cum-covered fingers into his cock. He sits me all the way down and he hold my hair into his hands. He stuffs his penis into my mouth. I feel his tip dripping of cum. He drills into my mouth, almost thrusting into the back of my throat. I start to suck, he starts to grip harder on my hair. I feel that he’s on the verge of cumming, so I start to play with his balls. I massage the sack that protects our future kids. He starts to groan and he’s moaning into the night.

Thunder whips into replacement of his cries. “Keep going mamas. I need to feel it.”

Quinn keeps chirping at me.

“You can take it. Just a little more.” He said and he shoved himself all the way into the back of my throat I start gagging, and he leaks out streams of warm strings of cum. He disposed everything and I lick it all up. I swalllo part of it. I get up as if I’m in control. He open his mouth kissing me back and I stuff his cum back into his mouth. I feel him suck on my tounge. He pulls into me, pushing my hips forward into his shaft. I feel him hard against his body and it’s now pushing on me. We stand together, I’m in my knees on top of our bed, and Quinn is standing, clinging into bed with me. He lays down, as I climb on top of him.

“I need you right now.” I say and I push his head back all the way. He expects me to take him inside of me, but I felt a little dry.

“Open.” I commanded.

Quinn opens his mouth stuck his tounge out and let me sit on his face. He sucked me dr until I couldn’t take it anymore. I started to rock my hips onto his face, his nose perfectly hitting my clit, and he around eating my insides. His hands held my ass as I stared to squirm.

I hope off once’s I cummed, and I was ready to take him on. I backed off and pushed his large cock into my cunt. Quinn is to big, I wait a few seconds before I get used to him to breathe.

“Cmon baby girl, you’ve taken ig before you can do it again. This time it’s not just for me, you can please yourself on top as well.” Quinn squeaks as he starts to jerk up. His hips are up and I slide around. I push him back downs as I hop up and down. I moan as I can feel his boner inside me. It’s as if he’s hitting my lungs.

He cummed once again, matching with the storm. I loook at the indie bside our bed. Rain starts to trickled down again.

“Quinn I need you on top I can’t.”

He didn’t listen. He buckles me on top when he ties his hands onto my pelvis. I start to roll onto my stomach as I match our bodies together. Now we fit, just like a puzzle piece. I kiss him, but I am moving so much that our lips aren’t connecting. I feel just cummed flavor tounge massaging my lips.

It’s April. I can feel the allergies kick in once I start to cum on top of him. I sneeze and he licks my mouth clean from any kind of dust. I taste my salty liquid still on top of his tounge.

“Baby, I’m so stressed just let me go on top okay?” Quinn says as he pulls away from out kiss.

He gets on top of me as we switch positions. He starts to thrust into me. He humps like he’s riding a horse. He gets cold after we both cummed. He cleabs me up with a tissue from our nightstand, and he sits inside of me.

“Can I just stay here?” Quinn says as he is warm out. “I’m tired, and I’m freezing.”

after a while he got soft and he needed to pull out.

But we ended up holding eachother for minutes and he felt that he almost fell asleep. He got stuck in side of me.

I wish it was that easy to un tangle outselves. He had to thrust indies of me to get hard again, which hurt a ton. We went for a round 4 and he pulled out.

He held me in his arms for hours until the rain stopped and April was just April.

Allergies were just allergies.

And playoffs were just playoffs.



#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #umich hockey #quinn hughes #nhl #quinn hughes x reader #🍇🍇🍇 #smut #nhl fic #hockey fics

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 41]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.4K

Last week...

"Before everyone goes off for the night, can I have you all gather in the front for a bit? I would like to make an announcement." Yunho poked his head into the kitchen. You all glanced at each other then nodded your heads.

"What's up, boss man?" Wooyoung asked, emerging from the kitchen with the rest of you in tow. You and Seonghwa leaned against the counter, with you resting your head against his shoulder.

"It won't take long. So, our one year anniversary of the shop being open is drawing near." Yunho smiled.

"Damn, it's been a year, already?" Hongjoong let out a long exhale.

"To celebrate and thank you all for your efforts, we'll be closing for the entire week next week. I've booked a beach house in Yeosu, we'll drive up and spend a few days there." Yunho smiled.

"Wait, are you for real?" San blinked, smiling in excitement. Yunho nodded with a grin.

"Woah! Vacation!" Mingi cheered, hi-fiving Yeosang.

"It'll be a nice break. Enjoy the outdoors away from the busy city life." Seonghwa shrugged.

"Eww, grandpa." You and Wooyoung stuck your tongues out with disgust. Seonghwa just rolled his eyes, used to yours and Wooyoung's taunting jokes. Since you were the closest to him, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a noogie while you yelled in protest.

"Hwa!" You squealed as everyone just looked on, this was normal to them now and would rather not get involved with yours and Seonghwa's bickering.

"Call me old again!" He threatened. You pinched his waist, making him squirm and let you go.

"Anyway, considering the number of people and the amount of luggages we'll have, I rented 3 vans." Yunho informed.

"Nice. We can take turns driving." Jongho smiled. Yunho gave more details abouts this 'retreat' vacation but everyone was only partially listening, being too excited to listen.

"Thanks, Yunho ah. We're all looking forward to it." The boys all thanked Yunho.

"Heading back with us?" Jongho asked you.

"Whiskey's with Yunho so I'm staying at his tonight." You said. They nodded and gave you hugs. Seonghwa kissed your temple and squeezed your hand before they went to their cars. You slung your bag over your shoulder and went back to the front.

"Staying at Yunho's tonight?" San tilted his head. You nodded, smiling softly, watching Yunho and Yeosang work over the computer for the restaurant's social media page.

"It's really been a year, huh? Time flies quickly when you're so busy." Mingi snorted.

"Yeah. And just like that, my contract here with the crew is ending." You pointed out. Mingi and San looked at each other.

"But... you're resigning... right?" San looked at you with uncertainty. You didn't know, that was something you would have to discuss with Yunho when the time comes.

"I don't know what the future holds. And if Seonghwa, Wooyoung or Jongho want to leave. I won't stop them." You shrugged.

"That's nice of you, (y/n)." Mingi complimented.

"I'm not their boss or owner. They can go where ever they want. They're always being offered positions in high class, top of the line restaurants but turn them down to stick with me." You chuckled.

"You work well as a team, anyone can see it through the way you communicate and work. Having to leave this good synergy and work with strangers in a bigger, more high pressured environment is a lot on a person, emotionally, physically and mentally." San pointed out. You nodded in agreement.

"Ready to go?" Yunho jogged over, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You nodded and waved to the others before heading to the back with Yunho.

"What were you guys talking about?" He asked as he retrieved his bag and coat from the locker room.

"Nothing important." You shrugged. He hummed and held your hand, giving you a kiss on the forehead, leading you out to his car.

"So, what do you think of the trip? Excited? I don't know if you're an outdoors person but I thought some peace in the countryside might be good and-" You cut Yunho off by pressing your lips to his.

"It sounds like it'll be fun, Yunho. With you and the boys." You pulled away with a soft smile on your lips.

"I'm glad. You deserve a break." He gave you a dreamy, dazed smile, making you laugh.

"We all do." You corrected and Yunho nodded. His family and Seonghwa's family had been constantly checking up on you after the fight with your father, you were truly grateful.

"Alright, let's go back to Whiskey before he starves to death. And by the way, my parents said they'll take care of him while we're away so you don't have to worry about him, okay?" Yunho started the car and drove back to his place.

"Sure, I'll cook or bake something to bring to them when we drop Whiskey off. To thank them properly." You smiled.

You hummed to yourself as you packed snacks and drinks into the cooler for the trip. Seonghwa and Jongho were behind you, making sandwiches for everyone.

"I'm here. Sorry I'm late, Kyungmin wouldn't let me go." Wooyoung groaned as he burst through the door.

"You stayed at your parents' place last night?" Seonghwa asked.

"I needed to borrow dad's suitcase so I brought stuff there, packed it into the suitcase and slept there." Wooyoung yawned, shuffling over and throwing his arms around you.

"Morning. Mingi and Hongjoong hyung are getting the other two vans." Yunho came out, fresh from the shower.

"Hey." You all greeted him back. Yunho came over and leaned in to give you a kiss.

"I'm right here." Wooyoung mumbled, still glued to your side with Yunho's body draped over his.

"No one asked you to be here." You squirmed to make him release his grip on you. You grabbed the huge jar of cold brew coffee from the fridge and put it into the cooler as well. Yunho chuckled and grabbed himself a mug of coffee as he looked over what all of you were packing for the trip.

"It's only a 4 hour drive and there'll be food there, you know? No need to pack the whole kitchen." He joked when he saw the amount of food that was being made and packed.

"Just in case anyone gets hungry. There's 9 of us. And you and Seonghwa hyung each eat for 3 people." Jongho reminded.

"Rude." Seonghwa hit the back of Jongho's head.

"Alright. We're done. Let me go grab my last minute things." You washed your hands and jogged to the room, not knowing that Yunho was behind you.

"You're bringing Yuyu and Yunnie?" Yunho asked, leaning against the door fram as he sipped his coffee.

"I'm gonna ignore the underlying judgement in your tone." You scoffed, tucking Yuyu under one arm and Yunnie under the other.

"No judgement at all, love. It's cute." He chuckled, coming over to kiss the crown of your head. You sent him a skeptical look but brushed past him to go out, placing Yuyu and Yunnie on your luggage, which was already packed and ready.

"Mingi and Hongjoong hyung are downstairs with the rest. Shall I asked them to come upstairs or are we ready to head down?" Yunho asked, looking at his phone.

"We're ready." Wooyoung said. You did a final check that all the lights and electronics in your house was off before you all went down.

"Good morning." The other boys greeted.

"Morning." You all replied back. San, half asleep, smiled and came over to hug you. Your eyes widened in surprise but laughed and patted his back.

"Sleep in the van, Sannie." You cooed. He nodded his head with a cute hum. Yunho scowled, dragging San away from you.

"So how are we splitting into the vans?" Yeosang asked once all the bags were loaded into the backs of all 3 vans.

"I'm driving one of the vans first and (y/n)'s with me no matter what so we need one more person." Yunho raised his hand, voicing out quickly. Besides Yunho, it seemed that Mingi and Hongjoong were the other two drivers, for the first part of the trip that is. You raised an eyebrow.

"Who says I wanna be with you? I always ride with Hwa." You asked. Yunho's jaw dropped slightly while Seonghwa snickered.

"But... But we're always together." Yunho frowned with a pout.

"We all drive so rotating drivers will be easy. The first batch of drivers will drive to the first rest stop at least." Hongjoong said, ignoring Yunho's whines.

"Good plan." You hummed. In the end, it was decided that you would ride with Yunho and Jongho. Mingi, San and Wooyoung would take one van while Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang the last van.

"You always give into him." Mingi shook his head.

"Like you don't. You've been giving into him longer than I have." You poked the taller's chest.

"True. Because he gives into me a lot too." Mingi laughed, wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He pressed his head into your temple as you shared a laugh.

"Hey, we have to get going!" Yunho yelled. You patted Mingi on the back and went to your van. Seonghwa gave out food, snacks and drinks to all the vans. You poured out coffee into to go cups for those that wanted it for the drive.

"As expected, travelling with chefs is indeed different." Yeosang laughed and sipped his coffee. After Jongho handed out the walkie talkies to everyone, you all jumped into your vans and drove out.

"You and Mingi hyung were awfully friendly." Jongho coughed.

"Shut up, Jong." You rolled your eyes, getting comfortable in the passenger seat with Yuyu and Yunnie.

"Don't pout. Jongho's just tryna start something." You reached over to pinch Yunho's cheek. Climbing over the middle console, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Ugh I shouldn't have chosen the van with the couple." Jongho faked a gag of disgust.

"What, you jealous? Want me to give you a kiss on the cheek too?" You teased, making Jongho stick his tongue out at you.

"You should get some sleep, love. It'll be a while until the first rest stop." Yunho turned to cast you a soft smile. You shook your head, unwrapping a sandwich to eat.

"Here, we'll share." You chewed, holding it out to Yunho to take a bite. You knew he was always hungry, just like Seonghwa. And he wouldn't feel tired if he's eating. After turning your head to offer Jongho a sandwich, you noticed that he was already asleep. But you kept yourself awake, wanting to accompany Yunho.

"What can we do when we get there?" You asked, taking another bite of the sandwich.

"There's a beach a few minutes walk away from the house so activities will be beach stuff like play in the sand, swim, all that sort of things." Yunho informed.

"Play in the sand?" You laughed with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, I make a mean sandcastle, alright?" Yunho scoffed. You giggled and settled further into the seat.

"Seriously, my love. Go to sleep, hmm? I'll be fine, not even tired. Infinite golden retriever energy, remember?" Yunho coaxed. You rolled your eyes.

"Fine. But wake me if you feel like you're falling asleep or ask Jongho to take over." You said.

"Yes, ma'am. And I'm offended you think I would put you in such danger." Yunho squinted his eyes at you.

Pulling your jacket over your legs, you held Yuyu and Yunnie, leaning against the corner between the seat and the door behind closing your eyes and letting sleep take over you. It wasn't hard considering you barely slept last night, packing for the trip.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

You jumped when the tapping on the window jolted you awake. You sat up properly, looking around and seeing Seonghwa's standing outside the car door.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart. We're at the first rest stop." Seonghwa cooed, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Come on." Seonghwa helped you out of the passenger seat.

"Wait, where's Yunho?" You yawned, not even realising Yunho was right behind you. You held Seonghwa's hand, letting him lead you since you were still half asleep.

"I'm here, love." Yunho chuckled, finding you absolutely adorable with how you followed Seonghwa like a lost child.

"Still sleepy, love?" Yunho asked as he sat beside you on the seat. You nodded and leaned against his shoulder. He put his arm around you to keep you warm. Once Seonghwa made sure you were secured with Yunho, he went off with the rest to get some food. Rest stop snacks was always good.

"Wakey wakey, jagiya. We got food." Seonghwa and Wooyoung put the tray of food down. Mingi and San were behind, carrying trays of more food for everyone.

"Drinks too." Jongho and Hongjoong came. You sat up, stretching your hands over your head.

"Here." Yeosang handed you a quarter of a fried potato. You smiled and blew on it before putting it in your mouth.

"Yummy." You let out little sounds of happiness. Using the same stick, you grabbed a rice cake from Seonghwa's bowl and ate it. Then you fed one to Yunho.

"Yunho hyung, I'll take over driving the second half so you can sleep." Jongho said as he chewed.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Yunho said before stealing a bite of Mingi's ramen, making the other tall male move the bowl away possessively.

After everyone finished eating, you all returned your trays. Then the group split up, some went to the drinks stand to get drinks for the road while the others went to get some more snacks to eat in the car. You stood in line with San on your arm.

"What are you getting?" Hongjoong leaned over to ask you. You squinted your eyes to look at the menu that was far away.

"Hwa won't let me have another coffee considering I drank most of what is in the cooler already... I think I'll have a strawberry basil cooler." You decided.

"Ooh, that sounds nice. Me too!" San raised his head from your shoulder and declared.

"Oh, Seonghwa wanted the mango yoghurt blend." You said, checking your phone to make sure you got Seonghwa's order right.

"Sure." Hongjoong stepped up to give all the orders to the counter person. She smiled sweetly at Hongjoong then her eyes trailed to San, who was still clinging onto you.

"You're both handsome." The girl complimented, eyes still cast on you, trying to get a reaction out of you.

"Thanks, Joong. We'll wait at the end. Come, Sannie." You walked to the end with San, not even acknowledging the girl at the counter. The girl's jaw dropped slightly at how you were nonchalant about it. You weren't possessive or 'bitchy' seeing another girl flirt with the guys that you were with.

"You're funny, (y/n). Seriously, you're like a black cat." Hongjoong laughed as he walked over to where you and San were waiting for the drinks. You felt San nod in agreement.

"What does that even mean?" You scoffed.

"That girl was trying to get a reaction out of you by flirting with us. And you didn't even blink twice." San explained.

"Oh... Well, she can flirt with you guys if she wants. Those things don't really bother me, I guess. Girls flirt with Yunho all the time, normal to me." You shrugged.

"As expected, very black cat of you to not be bothered." Hongjoong patted your shoulder.

"Still don't know what that means." You chuckled.

"It's okay, just know you and Yunho are like... match made in heaven." San smiled, patting your head. You sent him an odd look but rolled your eyes.

"This is everything." Hongjoong gave out your drinks to you and San. You carried Seonghwa's in your free hand so San opened the straw and stuck it into your drink for you. Once everything was secured, the 3 of you left to find the others.

"Here you go, Hwa." You handed Seonghwa his drink before separating back to your respective vans.

"Sit with Yunho hyung in the back, I'm good up front. Just no PDA or I might throw myself out of the moving vehicle." Jongho said to you as he moved his things to the passenger seat.

"That last part aside, are you sure? I can sit up front with you. Yunho's not 3." You chuckled.

"I'm sure." He squeezed your hand.

Of course, Yunho wouldn't try to convince you to sit in the passenger seat. He was ecstatic, the moment he laid his head in your lap, he was out like a light.

"Wow, don't think I've seen anyone fall asleep so quickly." You laughed softly, brushing Yunho's fringe.

"You know, Mingi and San were talking to me about our contracts. It's almost done. And they asked what our plans were." You spoke.

"Oh, right... I didn't even think about that but I guess it's almost up since it's been a year. Considering that, I haven't even thought about what to do after the contract ends." Jongho said, his voice not giving anything away. You let out a small hum, nodding your head slowly. You looked down at Yunho's face.

"You know Yunho hyung wouldn't want you to stay just because of him. You'll still have a great relationship whether you're working there or not. He would want you to go where you want to go." He added.

"Yeah, I know. He's too nice. But I don't know yet. What about you? Do you think you'll go up?" You asked back.

"Not sure. I'll go where you go." He shrugged.

"You guys always go where I go, turning down such great opportunities. Don't you wanna be a sous chef in a big kitchen?" You chuckled, still fiddling with Yunho's fringe.

"If I wanted to be a sous chef, I would have taken the title when you offered it to me." He pointed out.

"That's not what I'm referring too. Come on, you all can make a name for yourselves, not be like me, jumping from kitchen to kitchen."

"Sounds like you're letting your dad's words get to you... But anyway, the only reason we've broadened our skills and gained all this food knowledge under our belts is because we're moving from kitchen to kitchen with you. Which is good." Jongho replied.

"My heart wants to stay with Yunho and the others. My brain wants me to move on, find another kitchen to learn and grow in." You sighed, leaning against the door.

"Well, sit your brain and heart down at a table and make them work it out. Like a mediation." Jongho chuckled.

"Right. If only it were that easy." You laughed.

Finally, after a couple more hours of driving, all the vans pulled up to big beach house villa. You and the boys were in awe at how grand the place was.

"Okay, how are we splitting rooms? There are two rooms in the basement, two upstairs and one on this level." Yunho asked.

"(y/n)'ll get her own room, I'm assuming?" Wooyoung turned to you. Before Yunho could interject, you nodded.

"Well, if that's okay with all of you, I'll gladly take the room or I can room with Hwa." You asked the rest for their approval, who nodded their heads too.

"No, wait a minute. Stop, (y/n)'s not rooming on her own or with Seonghwa hyung. I'm rooming with (y/n). You guys can split the rest of the rooms and fight over who is bunking solo." Yunho corrected, speaking on your behalf. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow of amusement at him.

"Thanks, everyone. I'll take the room with the connected bathroom." You waved and grabbed your bags, going upstairs. Jongho helped you. Yunho's jaw dropped as you just left him there.

"This is going to be an eventful getaway for sure." You chuckled. Jongho nodded in agreement, laughing as he put your bag down.

"As long as I'm not caught in the middle of Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung hyung and Yunho hyung fighting for your bed." He laughed, making you facepalm.

Secretly, you didn't mind the bickering. With everything that happened with your father, you were just happy to have all of them with you.

~

Series masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez series #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho series #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #jeong yunho #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho x reader

[obsessivedreamling]

Home

Hob gives the boys a living space. Edwin isn’t sure how to feel about this.

—-•—-•—-•—-•—-

Ghost didn’t have homes.

At least, according to Edwin’s understanding they didn’t.

They had haunts, of course, and places their unsettled souls would return to, but they didn’t have homes.

Edwin wasn’t even entirely sure he remembered what a home truly was. He’d spent so long in hell in the same place over and over again, that when he left…he didn’t want to be stuck in the same place. Luckily for him, Charles was willing and enthusiastic to travel and explore.

It wasn’t until the ghostly duo met Hob Gadling that things slowly began to change.

It started with a small, friendly conversation, which grew into the boys coming around to the pub every night to talk and…well, relax. Which was something Edwin definitely wasn’t used to.

One day, Hob ushered them to the basement. He flicked on a light, and Edwin and Charles stared in shock.

It was a whole living space. There were tables and chairs and bookshelves, a couch and plush arm chairs on top of a large, ornate rug.

“It’s not much,” Hob said as he ran a hand through his hair, nervously. “But I didn’t like the idea of you boys not having a place of your own to be able to come back to.” He gave them a small smile. “Ghost or not, everyone needs a space of their own.”

Charles immediately took to their new surroundings, cheering as he claimed the worn couch that had been provided as his very own spot.

Edwin was more hesitant, his mind spiraling. He didn’t want to be locked and trapped to one place. Not again.

A heavy, yet gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him from his mind, and he turned to look at Hob, who was smiling softly at him. “I’m not trying to keep you here, Edwin. You’re free to come and go as you please. I just wanted you to have somewhere you could always come back to.”

Edwin stared a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, Hob.”

Hob grinned, and gave his shoulder a small squeeze before he launched himself onto Charles, who screamed and laughed.

Edwin tried not to latch onto this place. He liked Hob, a lot, and Dream, but he was still wary.

He hadn’t really realized how much he’d become accustomed to their new place until a particular case kept them away for a week.

When they had finally returned, it was the dead of night. They slipped in through the walls and floorboards to their living space, in case Hob was asleep. It was hard to tell when Hob was awake or not. He always kept a lamp on in his flat regardless of the time of day and his sleeping patterns were…strange. Sometimes he was up all hours of the night, and sometimes he wouldn’t sleep for days until Dream came to scold him and make him sleep.

As they entered into the basement Charles let out a happy sigh and slumped onto the worn couch, stretching as he said, “God, it’s great to be home.”

Home.

Edwin paused and looked around the space.

The walls that had been once bare held a mosaic of art Edwin enjoyed as well as odd little knickknacks from Crystal and pictures torn out of magazines that Charles liked. There were plants that Crystal had been growing on the table along with random things Charles had picked up during their adventures. The bookshelves held a strange collection of books that ranged from poetry to history to occult tombs to manga Niko brought in case Edwin wanted to read them. By the door, leaning against the wall, rested Charles cricket bat as well as a coat rack that held ridiculous disguises Charles and Crystal would wear, swearing that they worked.

“Edwin? You ok?”

Edwin blinked, not realizing he was crying until warm tears ran down his face.

Home.

They had a home.

This wasn’t a prison, this wasn’t hell, this wasn’t the attic or the chest.

This was home. His home. His home with Charles and Hob and Dream.

He turned around immediately and went through the wall and up to Hob’s flat. He raised a fist to knock, then hesitated. If Hob was asleep, he certainly didn’t want to wake him, especially since Dream was so insistent that Hob actually sleep…but then again Hob always told them if they needed him, to please get him.

He took a deep breath and knocked. He was surprised to hear Hob say, muffled, “Come in, Edwin.”

Edwin passed through the door and saw Hob leaning over kitchen counter, with a mug in his hands, smiling.

“How…”

“You’d be surprised how the building sounds when you both pass through walls and doors. It’s like an exhale, as if the old place is at ease. Plus…” He grinned. “Dream and Charles don’t knock.” He waved at one of the stools at the counter. “Come, sit. Tell me where you two trouble-makers have been for the last week.”

Edwin smiled a little, settled on the stool, and began regaling to Hob their latest case.

As Edwin finished and Hob turned to fill his coffee again, the ghost boys said, softly, “Thank you, Hob.”

Hob stopped and turned back, tilting his head to one side in confusion. “For what?”

“For…for giving Charles and I place. A…a home.”

The immortal smiled wide and warm. “You don’t need to thank me. I was hoping it would eventually feel like a home to you boys.”

Edwin dropped his gaze to his entwined hands. “It’s been a long time…since a place felt like that. I…honestly thought I had forgotten what a home felt like entirely.”

That same heavy yet gentle hand that had been on his shoulder as reassurance weeks ago now placed itself over Edwin’s hands. He looked up into Hob’s gentle, unchanging face. “No matter how far you travel or how long you’re gone for…you will always have a home here, Edwin. I promise you that.”

Edwin’s smile trembled as his eyes filled with tears, but if Hob noticed he didn’t say. Instead, he gave the young ghost’s hands a small pat. “I’m sure Charles is feeling lonely. Should we continue this downstairs?”

Edwin blinked, slightly confused. “But…I have already told you about the case.”

“Yes, you did, but…” He winked at Edwin. “I always enjoy listening to Charles stretch the truth a little. Weave his tales.”

Edwin chuckled and stood up from where he was seated. As they moved towards Hob’s door, the immortal placed a hand on Edwin’s back.

“By the way, welcome back home, Edwin.”

Edwin smiled.

Yes.

Home.

—-•—-•—-•—-•—-

Im probably gonna post a few of these warm, sweet little headcanon ficlets.

Because I like them and they make me feel good.

#dreamling #obsessive_dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #centennial husbands #dream x hob #dream of the endless x hob gadling #dbd #dead boy detectives #edwin paine #edwin payne #charles rowland #paineland #payneland #hob adopts the dead boy detectives #Eternal Family #Payneland and Dreamling fanfic #fic snippet #headcanon vomiting #I dunno what I’m doing at this point but it makes me warm and happy #just let me have this #obsessive_dbd

[silverameco]

Secret Relationship - @wolfstarmicrofic - 746 words

What Sirius didn't forseen, is that a secret relationship implied a secret break-up. Hidden love meant hidden sadness when it was all over. To be completely honest, he never thought it would end at all. He should have known, though, that he would find a way to ruin everything.

It had been a week. A week since Remus said I can't keep doing this. I don't want to be your secret anymore. A week since Sirius was stuck with the secret tears he shed every night, and the awful knowledge than the boy he loved was so close all the time - across the bedroom, the classroom or the dinner table - and yet so far away.

He didn't know what to do. They were so good together. Like friends, but better. All those secret meetings, passionate kisses behind closed doors and heated moments in the intimacy of silencing spells, all of it made Sirius feel more alive than ever. And now it was all over, because of him.

Nobody knew about them. Because he was so scared. Of the world, of himself. So scared he couldn't let himself take Remus' hand in an empty corridor, he couldn't show all the love he felt, couldn't tell the world about how amazing Remus was. But he wanted to. He really wanted to. He didn't even realize Remus drifted away from him, until it was too late. And now he didn't know what to do to fix it. He couldn't tell anyone about it, because nobody knew about them. Because it was like it never existed at all, even though it felt like the only real thing Sirius ever lived.

Well, it was without one James Potter to count on. He was cornered in the dorm one evening, before they went down to dinner. Sirius was sitting on his bed, James joined him and began talking before he could think about fleeing.

"Oi you wanker, what's up with you and Moony ?"

"Um, nothing ?" he felt himself flush with the blatant lie.

"Sirius. You've both been looking like miserable sods for days, and you're barely talking to each other."

Sirius didn't answer, and kept his eyes fixated on his hands, playing with a loose thread from his bedsheets. He didn't know what to say that wasn't a lie. It didn't deter James.

"You've both been so happy these past months. I thought-"

At that, Sirius raised his head to look at James, eyes wide and beseeching. Maybe he wanted someone to know, after all. "You thought ?"

"Well, that you were together."

He said it with a soft voice and a kind smile. Like maybe, it was all okay. Except it wasn't, because they weren't together anymore. He felt the tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh, Pads. What happened ?"

Next thing he knew, he was pulled into a hug, and Sirius was sobbing into James' chest.

"I- I ruined everything. Because I w-was so- so scared. And now he d-doesn't want me any- anymore."

"Padfoot, listen to me. I don't know what happened exactly, but I know that Remus has been looking at you like a lovesick idiot for years. You can't ruin that. I'm sure it's fixable, okay ?"

Before Sirius could answer, the door opened on no other than Remus himself. Sirius straightened himself, hastily wiping his tears.

"Er- sorry, I-"

But then their eyes met, and it was like Remus didn't know what he was going to say anymore. He seemed lost, looking at Sirius' teary face like it was hurting him. Sirius noticed that the circles under his eyes were darker than usual. He wanted to erase them. Before he could think about what he was doing, he got up and stepped in front of Remus.

"Moony." he said in a small, tentative voice, that he barely recognized as his own.

"Yeah ?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I love you. I want to be with you. I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell everyone yet, but I don't want us to be a secret either. So, if by any chance, you still want me-"

And then, Remus' lips were on his, just like that. Like they've never been apart in the first place, because they shouldn't be. James was cheering obnoxiously behind them and it felt right, because they were too good together, loved each other too much to be a secret.

#of course James knows #silv writes things #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #james potter wolfstar shipper #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

[penguinbuttcheeks]

Not a Woman Pt.2 - price x reader

summary: part one here you begin to slowly progress in your transformation to start presenting in a way that feels more like yourself. your captain and teammates have your back throughout the entirety of it.

pairing: platonic!price x transmasc!reader x supportive!141

cw: none

word count: 1,720

A/N: in my feels big time atm. finally came out to my parents about being trans and i’m currently not allowed to enter my parents house and my mother is not talking to me. it sucks, but my friends and partner have been so supportive and loving through it all <3

so yeah, anyway. have this i guess.

"Ye sure about this, lad?" Soap asks, giving you look of concern, eyes meeting yours in the mirror reflection - electric shaver ready and waiting in his hand. You sit in front of the bathroom sink in the 141’s private en suite, one of your spare towels draped across your shoulders.

It had been almost a week since your breakdown in Price's office, the team embracing you with open arms and assuring you throughout your entire journey that you're still part of the family - welcoming their newest brother to the team.

“It’s a buzz cut, Soap. You can’t fuck up a buzz cut.” He chuckles quietly, eyes darting down to the shaver in his hand and finally turning it on. The peaceful silence is broken through with the abrasive buzzing that emits from behind you, stomach starting to flutter excitedly.

“Should be easier than a mo.” he responds with a shrug, before flashing a mischievous smile your way and diving straight in to your hair with the buzzing device.

Staring back at your reflection was a breath of fresh hair. Gone was the long wispy strands that framed your face so femininely, instead replaced with the blunt edges of your sharp and freshly buzzed hair.

Water drips down your body, the bathroom filled with warm steam as you wipe away the droplets falling from your body with a fresh, fluffy towel. You had finally finished washing all the small prickly hairs that had stuck to your neck and chest during your amateur styling session with Soap.

You run a hand over your head, the feeling so foreign, yet so comforting.

You finally felt like you.

You grin widely at your reflection, the texture of your buzzed head feeling like a strange combination of astro turf and carpet.

Not wanting to hog the bathroom for much longer, you quickly resume drying your wet body and dressing in to your clothes. Your teammates wait eagerly in the shared 141 quarters, sitting on their respective bunks and chattering amongst themselves.

When you emerge, all heads dart your way, Soap nodding at you in approval and Gaz giving you a wide smile and a thumbs up.

“Suits you” Ghost speaks up, arms crossed over his chest. Not much emotion is given away, his casual balaclava that he wears around base hiding anything that shows on his face, but there’s the sound of a small smile gracing his lips in the way he speaks.

“What if I fuck it up? Has anyone ever died from needles?” Gaz shakes his head at you, chuckling lowly in amusement.

“You watched how the doctor administrated your first shot. Just do the same.” He’s met with nothing but a blank stare from you.

“Do you need me to do it for you?” He asks, a fond smile over his lips, dark eyes trained on your overly worried face.

You nod meekly.

And so- like the good friend he is - Gaz helps to administer your testosterone shot, laughing at you quietly as you continue to make a scene while he tries to inject the needle.

“A right sook you are. I’ve seen you take bullets, yet you can’t handle a needle?” He teases

“There’ll be a needle in your left eye if you keep that attitude up”.

From that day on, Gaz meets you in the 141 quarters, the same time every week to help you with your T-shots, completely unbothered by the task he has now taken on.

He watches as you slowly transform over the weeks. Small, but subtle differences that makes your eyes sparkle and smile wider each time your shot is administered

He’s honoured that you feel safe enough to allow him in to such an intrusive practice, never letting anything hinder his time spent with you when he lends you a helping hand.

“You need to change your voicemail” Ghost grumbles, walking in to the rec room where you and other two sergeants are currently sat, a game of uno half finished and discarded atop the coffee table in front of the couch you, Soap and Gaz are huddled together on. The three of you had gotten too distracted by an animal documentary to continue playing.

You look down at your phone, realising that you did indeed have a missed call from the Lieutenant.

“Sorry I missed your call, got too invested in this” you respond absentmindedly, eyes returning back to the television. “Why do I need to change my voicemail?” you ask quizzically.

“Doesn’t sound like you”.

You hadn’t realised just how much your voice had changed over the months as you continued your hormone treatment. Listening back to your voice prior your weekly injections, you can’t help but beam with pride.

The four of you have a good laugh, looking back through videos of your old self, admiring the changes in your appearance and the deepening of your vocal chords.

Ghost watches in amusement from the side, simply content to watch as you continue to bloom and flourish right before his very eyes.

He’d never admit it, but he was hesitant upon his initial discovery, unsure of how to proceed with your preferred identity. Seeing you now though? He laughs.

It was ridiculous that it was ever a concern to him in the first place.

“Your leave has been approved.”

Price stares at you, a twinkle of encouragement in his eyes as he breaks the news to you, biting back a grin that threatens to spread across his lips.

Almost a full year has passed, a year full of change and rigorous saving.

The time has finally come.

You were finally going to rid the most vital part of your body that would complete your transformation - the main thing holding you back from finally presenting the way you want to - from feeling truly like yourself.

There’s only so much a binder can do, the compression doing little to improve your dysphoria when your breasts were flattened and instead replaced with an overwhelming tiredness during training. Your body was over exerted - unable to cope with the intensity of the military’s strenuous training. It left you breathless and gasping for breath after each session, forcing you to revert back to sports bras.

You exhale shakily, fighting back the tears that burn behind your eyes.

Price stands up and rounds his desk, placing a firm and comforting hand on your shoulder from where he stands behind you.

“Congratulations, soldier.”

Tears fall from your eyes. Unlike the ones almost exactly a year ago in this very room, they’re paired with a bright smile, joyous laughter echoing off the walls instead of harrowing sobs and slamming fists.

Price is engulfed by your wide embrace, arms wrapping tightly around him as you cry. It takes him off guard, causing him to stumble backwards, a large arm moving to your back as he stables the two of you against your weight when you launch yourself at him.

He’s there when you check yourself in to the hospital, giving him a goofy grin in your large hospital gown. You wave him goodbye like an overexcited child as the nurses wheel you away to the surgery room.

He knows this won’t be an easy recovery for you, but all he can feel is pride and excitement for you.

You’re a tough cookie. You’ll manage just fine.

He feels his heart thud against his chest, sending you one last grin as you finally disappear in to the surgery room.

He’s no stranger to the feeling that flutters in his stomach - he had gone through the same experience with Gaz. sighing, he turns on his heel and returns to the waiting room, allowing him the solitude to ponder how he’ll go forward with these emotions.

He feels like a father, sending his son off to attend his first day of school. There’s a blooming pride in his chest, but also a tinge of worry.

Will the surgery be okay? Will you continue to flourish even after your transition is complete? What if you decide this is something you no lo get want?

He shakes his head. You’re a grown adult- capable of making your own decisions. He has step back and allow you to make those steps.

The time you spend recovering is on base, surrounded by your teammates in the comfort of your chosen home.

They fuss over you like overbearing parents would, making you roll your eyes and groan, not wanting them to see just how touched you are by their concern.

Water, food, flowers and silly little trinkets are brought back to you occasionally, the money spent being worth it to see the smile on your face as your body heals and you push through the pain of recovery for the first three weeks.

The remaining three weeks is when you truly shine. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your comrades.

As your six week recovery period comes to an end, Price takes the entire team out in celebration of your transformation process being complete.

It’s nothing fancy, a small dingy bar close to base, but it’s all you could ever ask for. The familiarity of the premise, the dim lighting and worn down furniture, surrounded by your beloved teammates. it was perfect.

The five of you drank and cheered all night, sharing stories and recounting memories throughout the past year of your transition.

Ghost is the first to leave, deciding that he needed a good night’s rest before taking on the new recruits that would be arriving come morning. Not long after, you and Price decide that you’re ready to call it a night too - Gaz and Soap deciding to stay out longer to make the most of this rare night out.

It’s a chilly night, you and John walking side by side as you make your way back to base. The two of you could have easily ordered an Uber or hailed down a cab, but the walk seemed like a good chance to let the alcohol leave your system before returning to base. To spend some time alone together.

“I’m proud of you” Price speaks up, hands in the pockets of his jacket to keep them from getting too chilly, black beanie pulled down over his ears and cheeks tinted with a light pink hue from the cold.

You glance over at him from the corner of your eyes, biting back a smile.

“I’m proud of me too.”

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfic #task force 141 #141 headcanons #cod 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #141 #tf141 #price headcanons #john price #captain price #price #price cod #captain price headcanons #captain john price #price x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #Spotify #ghost call of duty

[delirium1217]

There's no need to hide

Word count: 1009 words James/Regulus. First wizarding war AU (they're both stuck together in the same safe house)

⋆｡°✩˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗⋆｡°✩

“No, this won’t do.” James stands up, “We are not spending today of all days moping.”

“We’re not moping, we’re just talking.” Regulus replies, slightly indignant.

“All we ever talk about are big, sad, mushy feelings.” James dramatically flails his hands around, almost as if shooing the sentiment away.

“Big, mushy, feelings.” Regulus repeats, he tries to sound offended but the tug on his lips says otherwise.

“Well yeah, everyone you know thinks you’re dead, terribly sorry we can’t do anything about that by the way. And me, well, where the fuck do we start, you know?”

Regulus looks back at him, slowly blinking. the sickly yellow lightbulb casting down its shadows.

He doesn’t need to think about that right now.

He just needs something to fill the noise.

The air was filled with the sense of slight delirium. Nothing felt real. Nothing had consequence. James felt like he could run away, sprint off into the fields and pretend the last twenty two years of his life were a lapse of chemicals his mind made up in a haze.

The depression that hung over him all week threatened to spill into hysterical exuberance. But James didn’t care, it’s been so long since he had someone near him, someone that wasn’t decades older than him. Someone that talked to him, not just through him. Someone that didn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t.

He’ll let himself get drunk on whatever endorphins his body, for whatever reason, was dishing out.

He just needs something to fill the noise.

“Look James, maybe we should call it a night-“

“Nonsense! It’s your birthday, we’re staying up. We’re transforming some stale bread into equally stale cake. We’re playing music your obnoxious little self wouldn’t be caught dead listening to, and we’re dancing.”

He taps his wand. The tinny radio spluttered to life. The glittery synths were scratchy and soft. It filled the room instantly.

Regulus looks back horrified, his eyes widened.

He stretches his hand out for Regulus to take.

Regulus stares down at it, then back at James’ face “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“Oh c’mon, I used to do this all the time with Peter.”

“Is that all what you four did all day? dance around with each other?”

“Mostly, amongst other things. The worst of us was Remus, man had two left feet and fingernails like talons.” he fondly remembers the way Remus’ grip dug into his shoulders and ‘Moony, can you for the love of everything try and be less rigid’ while everyone else in the common room cheered them on, well, mostly Sirius.

Regulus snorts, “I should’ve known. And to think of all the time I wondered what on earth you people did.”

“Well, we had to, the marauders couldn’t embarrass themselves in front of the ladies.”

James’ hand was still outstretched. He wiggled his fingers again, “Come on. Can’t you just humor me?”

“You know it’s my birthday, you should be humoring me.” Still, something in his expression softens - he sighs, unfolds his arms, and carefully places his hand into James’ own.

The soft music and layered vocals had filtered throughout the room. The noise of it seemingly amplified in the tiny living room.

James slowly put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder - the unexpected warmth that rushed through him made him pause. He realizes, this was the first time he’s touched another person in months.

(Eight months to be exact, the last time he saw Marlene, drenched in black hoods at an Order meeting. She gave him a full body hug and squeezed all the oxygen out of him.)

Still, he slides his other hand across Regulus’ palm. The song playing was by a muggle band he didn’t recognize - a ditzy little number, all dreamy sounds and far away vocals. The shimmering effect the night held seemed to surge as they swayed.

It was awkward at first, as it always is. Clutching to each other’s shoulders in a frigid way that even Remus would realize was painful. That was until James, in his delirious state of glee started adding twists and turns left and right, loosening both of them up.

Regulus followed his every move, surprisingly fluid and confident in a way his posture never was. They both slowly started to laugh with every unnecessary kick or turn they flourished as they moved across the kitchen floor. This wasn’t a formal dance in any sense of the word, bouncing around like fools across the linoleum tiles.

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. Young, stupid, and full of bravado. Of course, now it was tinged with the haziness of all what’s broken his heart over and over, night after night. But it was still there, a flickering light in the dark. On and off. He silently pleaded with whoever was handling it to not click it off just yet.

“Okay, you have to stop before I start to vomit,” Regulus raises his voice over the bellowing music, a woman singing about hot stuff.

“We’ve both had nothing all day, nice try though!”

“Have you ever seen a cat dry heave?”

James laughs. He slows his tempo down back to a sway.

“Alright, we’re slowing down, only because it’s your birthday. Otherwise we would’ve been spinning off the patio,”

Regulus promptly ignores him. “Wasn’t there a promise of cake during your little speech?”

“Stale cake.” James corrects. “and i can only manage sweetened white bread, with bits of frosting.”

“I’ve had worse meals,” Regulus replies

“I bet you did,” James smiles back.

They come to a stop as the last seconds of the song play, another already fading in.

They both found themselves a few moments later hunched over a piece of incredibly stale, possibly moldy bread. Both throwing every bit of transfiguration spell they had in their arsenal. The result was a dried-out, but surprisingly pretty piece of yellow sponge cake. James had taken bits of milk and transfigured it into real looking icing, which coated the sides in swirls and peaks.

#LARGELY INSPIRED BY lonely dancers by conan gray #this is an outtake of one of my fanfics that i probably won't be using 😭 i've just been going through these scenes that don't fit anywhere #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday Everyone!! Thanks to @monbons for tagging me, so excited for the next chapter of your fic!

I've been having a really good week, I finished up all my finals and all my papers, and I moved all my stuff out of my dorm room—meaning I'm back home now and ready for summer! I have two weeks before my main summer job starts, so that means a lot of time for writing! And I've already gotten a start by having a super productive week writing-wise this week as well (finally got some solid work in on my COBB fic, turns out getting some vampire name inspo from @fiend-for-culture and seeing the first peek of the artwork really brought back all my excitement for this wip!!!)

I'm posting the newest chapter of Proof of Life tomorrow, which is one that I'm super excited to share. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter in my backlog, so I'll have take a small posting break after this, but that just means that if you haven't had a chance to start reading yet, you have time to catch up 🙃

But even more exciting news! I realized that I missed the 2 year anniversary of the first fanfic I wrote for this fandom! After reading all three Carry On books, I absolutely devoured fanfiction for probably around 6 months before ever writing my own. And the only reason I wrote anything was because I had a scene absolutely stuck in my head, and no one else had written it yet. So honor of being a month late to it's birthday, here are 6ish sentences from the first fanfic I wrote: Tense Silence (under the cut because this is already getting long):

“You’re a vampire.” says Simon. His voice came from above me. “You really are.”

I look up to see Simon standing, staring down at me. He has the Sword of Mages in one hand and the silver cross dangling in the other. It is very close to my face. I turn my head away. He moves the cross closer. I close my eyes as I smell the metal hanging merely centimetres away from me. 

“You tried to bite me.” He says. “You really tried to drink my blood.”

As you can see, I started out the fandom almost exactly where I ended up—writing angsty vampire Baz fics. While there's some things that I would do differently now and a few noticeable mistakes (Simon's cross is gold not silver, Past Lily, get it right!), I'm still really proud of this fic. I remember spending weeks working on it and being very nervous to post this 6k fic, so it's definitely kind of crazy to look back it and see how much I've grown as a writer, and how many friends I've made in fandom since then.

Tags & Hellos!

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @artsyunderstudy

@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @shrekgogurt @brendughh @a-maisie-ng @hertragedyconnoisseur

@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs

@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife

@arthurkko @rbkzz

#no snippet from proof of life today :( #but i trust that you all are excited for the chapter anyway #and if you haven't started reading it yet you should!! #it's my favorite thing i've written so far! #six sentence sunday #tense silence #my writing #kind of crazy that about two years ago i had written no fanfiction #and now i have over 150k words posted #snowbaz fanfiction

[sh4dys]

Vacation crush » Nick Sturniolo

summary: falling for the random guy you met on vacation, and maybe he fell for you too.

warnings: masc!reader, swearing, reader is a mamas boy

A/N: the gay peeps need more nick fics (i’m gay peeps)

Your mom had decided to take you on a vacation after finals season, considering how stressed and overworked you had been, she hated seeing her boy like that.

She wanted to take you somewhere calm yet somewhere you could actually do stuff, her solution? Renting out a beach house for a week. To say you were thrilled would be an understatement, you hadn’t even this excited for something since you were a toddler.

The two of you were chilling at the beach early in the morning, your mom laid out on a towel with her arm over her eyes, allowing you a bit of time to run off.

The blinding sun forced you to wear sunglasses, which you used to your advantage to check out the other guys walking around. If your mom found out she’d start poking fun at you, not in a bad way, she supported you through and through—but it’s what every mom did.

Your attention was suddenly torn away at the feeling of a beach ball hitting the back of your head, knocking off your glasses, causing the sun to blind you.

“Jesus fuck.” You grumbled under your breath, squinting your eyes as you looked around for the source of the ball. The sight of three identical looking guys running over caught your attention, two completely ignoring you to grab the ball, while one stood out.

You could practically feel your heart bursting out of your chest as you made eye contact with him, your eyes widening as you took in his appearance. From the glasses pushing back his hair, to the blue-wave themed swim trunks he wore.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice caught you off guard, quickly nodding and awkwardly bent down to grab your sunglasses from the sand, shaking them off with a sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was probably in the way of you guys..” You chuckled awkwardly, which to your surprised earned a laugh from him as well.

“My brothers are just idiots.. I’m Nick, by the way.” Nick. You repeated his name to yourself mentally, smiling as you stuck a hand out. “I’m Y/N.” The feeling of his fingers wrapped around yours made you melt, but soon ended as he pulled away and turned to look at his brothers messing around with the plastic ball.

He was so pretty, you couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t real, there was no way! You could feel your heart still pounding inside your chest, even after he had left to go deal with his brothers. And after you had left to go back to the beach house.

You stood in-front of you bathroom mirror, messing with your hair and your overall appearance with a sigh, listening as your mom sang a song while getting ready for bed. “Hey, honey, you okay?” She leaned her head around the corner, a frown making its way onto her face as she walked up next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Who are you trying to impress?” She quirked a brow up at you, causing you to look down at her with a confused expression. “Impress? Please, I’m not seeing him again.” You sighed and looked back at your reflection, pressing your lips into a thin line with a sigh.

You could sense your mom’s concern, the way her hand let go of you as she gently nudged your chin up to look at her. “I can see the wheels turning in that brain of yours. If you wanna see this guy again, you gotta make an effort. Me and you are going on a mission tomorrow to get his number.” She smiled widely at you, before leaving the bathroom, with you completely dumbfounded at what she just said.

Well.. she kept her word.

The next day she was dragging you around to every shop and hang out spot she could find. She pointed out any and every guy she saw, asking if it was the boy you wanted to see again. Of course they weren’t him, only making you worried he might have left already, meaning you wouldn’t see him again.

Your mom sat you down at a frozen yogurt shop, excusing herself to the bathroom. You were simply sulking around, picking at the old paint coating the table, your sunglasses pushing back your hair. You knew it was stupid to get all upset over a guy you met yesterday, but vacation crushes were different than normal ones, every knows that.

You lifted your head to try and find your mom, only to meet the gaze of him. Your eyes instantly lit up, a smile creeping into your face as you nervously stood up. You made sure to put your glasses down again, fixing up your hair as you walked over and nervously waved.

“Hey.. Nick, right?” You watched as he turned fully to face you, a smile forming on his lips as well as he nodded, sticking a hand out for you. “Yeah, that’s me. Y/N, right? I didn’t think I’d see you again.” You instantly shook his hand, blushing slightly.

“I didn’t either. It’s great to see you again though.” You could hear the shakiness in your voice, cursing yourself mentally with a sigh. “I was actually wondering if, uh, I could maybe-“ As you were just about to ask for his number your mom came running towards you, making your stomach drop as you slowly turned to face her.

“Oh, honey! Is this that boy you were so worked up about?” She clutched into your arm as she smiled at him, your face was now as red as a tomato. You could hear Nick trying not to laugh, making you even more embarrassed. “Yes, mom.. his name is Nick.” You mumbled under your breath, pressing your lips into a thin line as you looked down.

“This is amazing! So, Nick, my son here wanted your number. He thinks you’re so cute and was so sad he might not see you again. Hopefully you’re also.. y’know.. I think you two would be so cute together.” Her voice was laced with enthusiasm, the way she said his name in a knowing tone, and the way she kept explaining how you felt only made your stomach drop further.

You could see Nick’s own face turning red, stammering over his words for a moment before checking over his shoulder and scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t be opposed to getting his number.” He mumbled quietly, pursing his lips as he looked away.

The whole scene was straight out of a Disney movie, the two people so clearly interested in each other were embarrassed, while your mom stood over your shoulder and spilled every detail of how you felt to the guy you met the day before.

Your mom was enthusiastic though, grabbing your phone from your pocket and handed it to him with an eager look. You could feel yourself practically melting out of your skin, pinching the bridge of your nose as you watched him put his number in.

She quickly gave you back your phone, before saying goodbye to him and walked off to the table she had all her things at. You awkwardly stood across from him with your lips pressed into a thin line, a sharp sigh leaving your lips.

“I’m so sorry about her..” You spoke quietly, your voice still shaky from the interaction. “No, it’s okay. I think you’re cute too, actually.” He stared down at the floor and crossed his arms over his stomach, a small smile on his face.

“Really? Didn’t even think I was in your league.” You chuckled lightly, running a hand through your hair as you leant against the building next to you. “Are you kidding? Dude, I was so embarrassed when Chris threw that ball at you. I thought you’d be weirded out by me or something.” He joined in on your laughter, his smile making you all warm inside.

Maybe you two would see each other again.

#ᯓ★ sh4dys #nick x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x y/n #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fluff

[your-eternal-lies]

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter twelve)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER TWELVE IF WE WEREN’T MEANT TO BE

You slump onto your faded couch, the fabric scratching at your bare legs as you prop your feet up on the coffee table. Chuck lumbers around, nestling his head onto your legs, looking up at you with what you swear is pity. 

Your apartment is cluttered again, surrounded by a fortress of throw pillows and half-finished novels that had promised distraction but delivered none. A cringe creeps up your spine, the kind only born from reliving an awkward moment over and over again. 

The elevator incident with Steve has been replaying on your mind like a blooper reel that had refused to stop for weeks. You haven’t seen or heard from him since, and you want to throw yourself off the roof in embarrassment. 

Your phone lies discarded on the other end of the couch, the screen still lit with a news article titled, “Captain America: Hero or Fugitive?” 

Of course, Steve has more important things to worry about than you. He probably hasn’t even thought of you at all, given the gravity of recent events. You lean over, the cushions swallow you halfway as you reach for the phone, and then plop back against the armrest. 

The article mentions nothing new, just the same old details about Hydra infiltrations and SHIELD’s internal crises. 

He could be either fighting Nazis or having tea with Natasha Romanoff for all you knew. Not that you’d call yourself concerned or anything, but the lack of updates on Steve’s whereabouts after such a public debacle is enough to make anyone just a tad… curious. 

Ah, who did you even think you were fooling? 

“Come on, Rogers,” you muse, thumb scrolling idly through your feed. “Give me something to work with here.” 

But no matter how long you scrolled, there was nothing. There was no mention of his current location, even though all you want to know is whether he’s off-world or trapped in another ice block. 

You have been by his apartment a few times ever since you heard the news, worried about him, but all you found was the super—more than a little pissed that there was now a giant hole in the side of the building where Nick Fury had been shot. 

You felt silly in that moment. He was probably off somewhere chasing down an attempted murderer, non-existent cape billowing in the wind behind him with his shield held high, and here you were, hoping to clear the air with a man who breathed a different stratosphere altogether. 

With a huff, you push yourself off the couch and into your bedroom, flinging open your closet. You call your friends, inviting them to the bar for a girls’ night out, all the while tossing aside a parade of ‘not good enough’ outfits before settling on your battle-tested favourite—a cobalt blue dress that skims your knees with just the right flair. 

“Get a grip,” you tell your reflection, wielding your mascara wand like a sword. A few strategic strokes later, your eyelashes are fluttering like the wings of a mischievous butterfly, “Time to get out of your head!” 

But even though the bar is a cacophony of clinking glasses and boisterous conversation, trying not to think about Steve Rogers is like trying not to breathe—absolutely impossible. 

Your friends, a kaleidoscope of colourful personalities, are huddled in your usual spot, laughter bubbling up from the table like fine champagne. A chorus of your name rings out as you approach, and they all shift to make room for you. 

“Hey, wild ones,” you smile, sliding into your seat and scanning the cocktail menu with feigned interest. The words swirl in front of your eyes, but all you can see is a shield-shaped blur. 

“Earth to daydreamer!” A voice chimes in, snapping you back to reality. “Are you gonna order, or are you waiting for a sign from the universe?” 

“I want to try something new,” you quip, making up an excuse that sounds believable. You order a drink with a name you can’t pronounce, and as the evening unfolds, you laughing at the right moments and adding to the banter, your thoughts keep tiptoeing back to Steve no matter how hard you try to reign them in. 

“Okay, what’s up with you?” One of your friends leans in, eyebrow cocked with detective-like scrutiny. “You’ve been getting this far-off look now and again for weeks now. Spill!” 

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you wave off the concern with a breezy hand gesture, your heart doing a clumsy pirouette. “Just… thinking.” 

Your friend regards you for another minute, obviously not buying this excuse, “Girl, looks like you need another drink.” 

“Make it a double, please,” you agree, sinking further into the buzz of the bar, where the music swells to fill the gaps in your armour. 

A few hours later, the clink of glasses and choruses of laughter have faded into a distant echo by the time you make it back to the apartment. Your mind still buzzes as you kick off your heels with expert aim, sending them skittering across the floor. 

You flop onto the couch, feeling the cushions envelope you in a soft bouncy embrace, all the while Chuck sniffs at your side looking for affection. You wrap your arm around him blindly, closing your eyes as he licks your cheek. 

“Is telepathic dating a thing, Chuckles?” You mutter sleepily, only half-kidding, as you draw lazy circles in Chuck’s fur. “I mean, my thoughts are always with him anyway.” 

Just as you are about to surrender to the silence and sleep, a series of sharp knocks jolt you back to reality. Confusion knits your brows together—a visitor at this hour? You get up with a groan, not giving much care regarding your disheveled appearance and smudged makeup, and glance through the peephole of your front door. 

You frown. This can’t be right. Are you dreaming? 

Slowly, you unlatch the chain and open the door. 

« Chapter 11 || Chapter 13 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

[dairy-farmer]

Gen or Batfam/Tim.

Tim had been suicidal for as long as he can remember: the aggressive neglect from his parents -and probable emotional abuse- made him feel unlovable and unwanted. The only reason he kept putting it off was going out to take pictures of Batman and Robin.

Maybe he would have done something after Jason died, but Gotham needed Batman so Tim took up the job. He started making plans again after Jason showed back up, but Jason's relationship with the rest of the family was strained, so Tim stuck around to try and fix it. Then Damian showed up and Bruce disappeared, so Tim had to go and rescue Bruce.

Finally, finally, the Wayans are back together: Bruce is home and healed up, Jason has reconnected with the family and come to an understanding with Bruce, and Damian is starting to become a real boy recover from his League related trauma and start to feel secure in his position in the family. So Tim decides it's time and he can extract himself from the Bats - preferably in a way that won't be too harmful or traumatic- and finally get the peace he's always wanted.

It's important to note that Tim doesn't feel like he has to/ should die because he's no longer useful or anything like that. Tim is completely aware that he is incredibly intelligent and skilled, and that he is an excellent vigilante and CEO. But he doesn't feel loved or wanted, and he's just so tired of that, so he's decided that he wants to die.

So Tim goes about getting his affairs in order: updating his will, selling off any properties and such his parents had left him when they died, updating or closing cases and passing on patrol routes, ect. Since Kon and Bart are still dead, and Red Robin isn't well known outside of Gotham, Tim doesn't have to worry about other vigilante groups.

Tim had rather expected that none of his family the Wayans would notice or care what he was doing. He was wrong. They all love and care about Tim, even if they're not always the best at showing it, so of course they notice when his behavior changes. They don't put everything together at first, but after a few weeks and discussing with each other (and possibly spying on Tim and/or going through his files) they finally figure out that Tim is planning to 'leave Gotham, find himself y'know? So don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while' ... So they start planning too.

Finally the day comes where Tim plans to nonchalantly leave, with excuses that hopefully will put off suspicion until they all forget he even existed. He sits down for a last meal with the whole family, and is so focused on enjoying this last night with his family that he doesn't notice the covert looks the Wayne men are all giving each other. He doesn't really notice anything is off until the meal is over and he goes to stand up and finds that he's so so dizzy and tired. He quickly slips into unconsciousness.

Tim wakes up in a room he's never seen before, with his family the Waynes gathered around him. They explain that Tim is part of the family, that they all love him, that they found out about his play on and refuse to let Tim go through with it. The room is completely suicide proof, with dozens upon dozens of cameras with at least one bat watching to make sure he's safe. Tim is not allowed to hurt himself, leave them, or die. They won't let him.

I haven't decided either way whether or not the bat boys already had sexual feelings for Tim they were hiding, don't have any sexual feelings for him, or start to develop them after locking him up for his own good. But I like the idea that along the way of trying to convince Tim that he is loved and wanted, and keeping him safe, one or two or all of them may decide to use physical love to try and convince him (or maybe they hope that a child might force Tim to stay alive...)

👀👀👀👀 there's just something so dark about tim wanting to kill himself and waiting until he can only to be essentially be held prisoner by all of the bats who realized what he was planning. they're putting him under constant surveillance and keeping him chained up at the slightest indication of behavior that might be deemed 'self harmful' as if that's supposed to somehow make him NOT want to follow through with his plans even more. because originally tim was just tired. every small thing felt like having to climb a mountain, he was tired, he wanted to sleep, wanted to just lie in bed like he was a piece of furniture. tim wanted to die because he was tired and didn't see life ever becoming something he would be excited for or looking forward to but now he's a prisoner, not allowed to do anything, and forced to perform menial tasks to prove to them that he's getting 'better'.

and the bats, i can fully see them convincing tim that they love him romantically as a way to keep him alive even if its not true. one of them deciding they will make the 'sacrifice' of fucking tim and hopefully knocking him up so that tim will stay alive at least a few more months for the sake of the 'baby' because tim always has yielded to their wants. just the deep lying sinister undertones of it all no matter how they all try to frame it is so good!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[punkassfrance]

Sierra Nevada - Chapter I - Ellie/Abby

Chapter I: Donner This work is rated M for canon-typical violence and gore. Please look here for a full list of warnings for the series, specific warnings will be provided at the start of each chapter. This work contains passing mention of cannibalism and discussion of a massacre. (Aftermath- corpses, smell, etc.) Work Length ~1.4k - Full Series

“Even though I told people to call me Linda, that was another girl’s name. I had to change my name several times because of what I had done, or rather, what had been done to me.” - Aimee Parkison, “The Innocent Party”

-

Abby

It was hard to say exactly what happened to the Fireflies. They didn’t have much to go on, once Abby and Lev finally made it to Catalina island. There were no notes, no maps, no audio logs explaining everything they needed to know. From what did remain, Abby could only say one thing for sure- it was a fucking bloodbath.

The bodies weren’t fresh. They weren’t old, either. Sometime between 2425 Constance and the moment they made it to the island, the Fireflies were wiped out. It had been a few weeks, maybe a month since the bodies hit the ground where they laid. There was no getting away from the smell; nowhere on the island was safe from the harsh reminder of whatever had happened.

Some of them looked like they went down fighting, gunpowder residue still on their fingers. Some were executed. There were missing boats along the docks- some must have made it out alive, she thought with the last bit of hope she had left. It didn’t last long.

Lev looked up from the shambles of the Fireflies, looking to Abby for hope, a plan, anything she could offer. They’d spent almost two years looking for the Fireflies, they’d been so close. It was all Abby had wanted.

But they still had fresh rope burn. They both still hungered from the pillars, and she had injuries to take care of from the cure. She still tasted blood, and tried not to focus too hard on what was stuck in her teeth.

“…come on, Lev.”

That was almost a year ago, now. Maybe if they weren’t both exhausted, starving and beaten like dogs, they would have kept looking. They wouldn’t have given up on the Fireflies.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After all they’d seen, all that had happened, some part of Abby decided it was just over. All Lev wanted was to be with Abby, and all Abby wanted to do was get the fuck out of this city.

The sailboat made it as far as San Francisco before it couldn’t keep going. Abby had tried to fix it for about a week before Lev confessed he wanted to explore inland- see what the world was like outside the coast.

“Abby?” She looks up from her journal as Lev calls her from a few yards away, pointing to a road sign he’s spent the last ten minutes uncovering. “How do you say this? Trucke?”

Abby stands and walks over to him, squinting at the sign. “It’s Truck-ee. Just how it looks. Means we’re getting close to Nevada.”

There’s been…some interruptions on their trip, to say the least. Some things Abby can’t bring herself to remember, let alone talk about- but they’re past that. Abby’s hair is slowly growing out, past her shoulders now, just enough to braid. Her hair hasn’t been this short since she was a teenager. Lev’s kept his hair short, but not fully shaved- he gets nightmares when it gets too long. But then, he gets nightmares most nights.

“What’s Nevada like?”

“What is it, October? Should be nice. We should leave before spring, though. It’s a lot of desert. We’ll go around Reno if we can help it.”

“Have you been there?” Lev lets the foliage fall back over the road sign, hands resting on the straps of his backpack.

“Nope. We’re both gonna see something new.”

They’re just outside of Donner, Abby pausing their lesson on the history of the area to take a short rest. He’s fascinated by what he’s heard, even the morbid details she barely remembers. “Book on Donner Party/murder?” is written down in her shopping list, one of the dozens of things she needs to find at some point. He’d like that, she’s certain.

“We should get moving. Should just be another day or so to Nevada.”

Lev nods and starts off down the road as Abby puts her journal away, half-jogging to keep up with him. “Hang on, Lev-”

“Gotta get a move on!”

She huffs quietly and runs until she catches up to him, glancing around the woods. He knows she’s been trying to get back in shape. It’s been tricky, after everything that happened in Santa Barbara, but not as hard as she feared it would be. Muscle comes back easier once it’s been gained the first time around, even if the limited calories complicate things. Whatever anyone had to say about the Washington Liberation Front, they kept their people fed. One of the few things she misses from Seattle.

“I’m coming.”

Ellie

“No. I’m not gonna do this again. If you walk out, I’m not going to be here if you come back.”

“That’s up to you.”

-

There was no real point in going back. There was nothing left for Ellie, after all. The possessions she’d turned into a life meant nothing anymore- Tommy probably took most of them when Dina left. If she ever decides she wants any of it back, if she ever returns to Jackson to beg for Dina’s forgiveness, she hopes Tommy at least has the decency to feel ashamed.

Not that he matters, anymore. Not that anyone in Wyoming matters. Not that anyone matters.

When she journals about it, she wants to say she hasn’t been this disconnected since she was…younger, but she can’t settle on an age. First it was Riley. Then Marlene. Then Joel. Then Dina. As much as loneliness has haunted her entire life, the more she thinks about it, it was never so tangible. There was always something there, someone keeping her tethered to humanity.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After Abby disappeared into the fog, after she stood from the water on the last shreds of energy she had and watched the horizon, it was too late. When the stars started to appear on the water, it hit her that there was nothing for her anywhere. Jackson might welcome her, but it would never be home again.

So, east. There was no real plan to it, nothing beyond get out of Santa Barbara, so that’s what she did. Wandered until she found somewhere suitable to settle down. She’s not sure what the name of the town is, just that it’s quiet. Joel would have liked it, she thinks- he loved the mountains. They never managed to get this far west together.

It looked like an old vacation town, somewhere rich people would visit when the season was right. It’s been nearly a year since she settled here, and if there’s anything she’s learned, it’s that nobody in their right mind would be here in the winter just to visit. The snow should be coming in any day now- she’ll have to prepare for it soon.

At least there’s a nice view from the back porch of the cabin she settled on. Her cabin, now. The previous owner was quickly dispatched, his spores fully aired out within a week. Now it’s just her place. She drinks the tea in her hand, thumb rubbing over the design on the mug. It’s not the same owl mug Joel had, but it’s close enough to remind her. Remind her she cared about someone for a little while.

Her place is so quiet. There’s no voices, no humming from the kitchen, no kids giggling and playing outside. It’s nothing like Jackson. If she doesn’t speak, nothing needs to be said. It’s nice. A bird sings nearby— it’s one of Ellie’s favorite sounds. Joel told her it was called a Mourning Dove.

Pushing herself back from the balcony railing, she gives the woods one last look before she turns back to the house. There’s a laundry list of things to do- prepare firewood, move the few plants that can be moved indoors, clear out the gutters— small things to handle before the snow really sets in. The greenhouse still needs fixing up, just another thing for her to get to once summer returns.

As endless as it feels, the list she’s built up is only a few years long. Ellie’s not sure what she’s going to do once she hits the end of it.

But for now, as she sets her mug next to the sink and reaches for her jacket. She’s fresh out of distractions for the morning.

I'm so excited to start this series- hopefully you enjoyed chapter one, more on the way soon! Again, heed the warnings for each chapter, please be safe! Huge thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over for me, the help is very much appreciated!!

Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

#the last of us #fanfiction #ellabs #ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie williams/abby anderson #ellie williams #ellie tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #ellie williams x abby anderson #series #sierra nevada #my writing

[frozenjokes]

A Matter Of Fairness Or Maybe Fear

the next part of the mumbomaid au is four separate mini stories that will be posted as one chapter on ao3, but I thought it might be cool to post them separately here (and since this one’s done, I thought I might post it earlier before the rest goes up on ao3 >:D)

This call marked Scar’s 129th over the course of two days, and quite frankly, his persistence was starting to wear at Etho’s resolve. Maybe ‘resolve’ wasn’t quite the right word actually- patience might be better. This marked the sixth day Etho had been stuck in a little outlet away from home, burying himself in the mud day in and day out, and he was really getting sick of it- sick of Joel, actually, and Scar calling him every free moment of the day was getting quite frustrating when he was waiting on messages from Joel.

Etho let it ring. It wouldn’t stop Scar. Yesterday while sending Joel a very long and very angry message, Etho had accidentally declined Call 4 before the first ring concluded, so Scar knew Etho had his phone. Since then, Etho had also accidentally declined Call 7, 68, 70, and 103.

Call 129 ended and Call 130 began. Call 130 did not end before Bdubs rang at the same time, and that hurt, so Etho submerged himself to avoid it. Soon enough, it too was over. Scar’s insistent calling replaced Bdub’s ringtone without pause.

131. 132. 133.

Finally, it stopped, Scar probably running out of time on his work break. Thank god. Etho had enough on his plate without Scar breathing down his neck, but if he was really being honest, being bitter about Scar’s knowledge on his and Joel’s split souls probably wouldn’t change his behavior today. Scar had a habit of spam calling, and Etho did not know him to give up.

Call 134 just a couple of minutes after the 133rd snapped the last remaining thread of Etho’s patience.

Etho pounced on his phone, picking up with a wrathful hiss, “Stop calling me,” before hanging up. After Call 173, Etho was pretty sure this would never end until he grew a pair and answered the phone. With great disdain, he accepted Scar’s call.

“Hello? Etho? Are you there?”

Etho didn’t respond for a while, too busy fuming to speak. “I’m here.”

“Are you in immediate peril? Do you have time to talk?”

“I have time.” Etho spoke every word through gritted teeth. Scar was quiet for a long moment.

“Then hang the fuck up and call Bdubs you fucking asshole. He’s one more anxiety attack away from filing a missing person’s report, and I’m honestly shocked he hasn’t already! He’s convinced you’re dead in a ditch somewhere or kidnapped or something, and I don’t blame him. If you have your phone and you’re not bleeding out on the fucking rocks, there is literally NO REASON you haven’t called him.”

The wind of Scar’s anger left a heavy silence in its wake. Etho wasn’t quite sure how to break it, but he had a feeling Scar wasn’t going to just let him hang up without another word.

“I can’t call him,” he said instead, all too aware that Scar’s assault of his ears would only continue.

“Give me one good reason why you can’t call your best friend and tell him you’re okay. It’s nearly been a week, Etho, come on. The longest you’ve ever been gone at a time is three days, and you told us beforehand. And I swear to god if you say-“

“Scar, I can’t just call him, I’m not human.”

“You don’t have to fucking video call him!”

“I sound different, Scar. I can’t,” Etho insisted, desperation spilling through in sick waves. Scar didn’t get it. How could he make Scar understand? “What if he asks where I am? What am I supposed to tell him? I can’t call him.”

“You do not sound different! At all!”

“I do.”

“I didn’t notice! It can’t be that bad. Over the phone it won’t even matter- I can not believe you’re fighting me on this. Come on.”

“I can’t, Scar,” a soft whistle broke through behind the words, making Etho feel all the more pathetic. He didn’t want to be here. He’d give anything to be home right now, not worried about being seen or overpowered or caught- he’d give anything to go home, eat normal food- He had work too, he had deadlines! He didn’t want to be in this position at all! Etho didn’t- he didn’t want to upset Bdubs either, of course not, but how was he supposed to explain?

“When are you going to be home then, Etho? Because I need to tell him something. I’m going to tell him- at least that you’re okay. Do you even understand what you’re putting him through right now? Would you really rather let him think you’re in trouble than have a difficult conversation with your best friend?”

“I don’t- I don’t know, Scar. This isn’t my fault- it’s not like I want to be away at all! Please don’t.”

“I’m not mad that you’re not home, Etho. I’m mad because you have a phone to call your roommate with and you’re not using it.”

“He’ll ask questions.” Voicing the thought sounded so much worse, so irredeemably meager. He was being selfish, wasn’t he. Scar was right. But Scar didn’t- Scar didn’t understand the fear- the anxiety- How easy it must be for Scar to stand by the sidelines and tell Etho what was right and wrong. He had no idea.

Scar interrupted his train of self righteous anger before it could build further, “Bdubs has every damn right to ask questions! And even then, he probably won’t. He’d do anything to keep from stepping on your toes on issues like this, even when you treat him like shit. I’m serious. This is fucked. This is cruel. Cleo’s worried sick as well- we’re all worried.” Scar stopped with a huff and Etho heard him mess with his hair over the line, “You know what, this is a waste of time. I’m just going to call him.” Scar hung up without another word, lighting a sharp panic in Etho’s chest. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this. But he didn’t want an angry Scar telling Bdubs anything about his situation much more.

He fumbled over Bdubs’ contact, pressing several wrong buttons before finally dialing his number. The phone didn’t even pass the first ring.

“Etho? Hello?” Bdubs spoke, drying the words off Etho’s tongue. Not that he had anything to say in the first place. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for this. His mind seemed to dry up as well, leaving nothing but static in the wake of his panic. “Are you there? Etho?” Bdubs’ voice was faint. Terrified.

Sudden guilt wracked his body, physical in its pain like being caught in the middle of a head-on collision. “I’m here,” his voice shook, but he was hardly aware of it, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Bdubs was quiet, the silence crushing, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

Neither of them spoke, tension thrumming through the air just as clear as audible sound. Etho didn’t think he’d ever be able to breathe again. This was so much worse than he’d ever imagined this conversation going, and he had imagined it.

…

Bdubs sobbed, and all at once Etho crumbled. Mermaids didn’t have the right anatomy to cry, but Bdubs didn’t question the strained noises of distress that bubbled out of Etho’s throat. Bdubs never did question anything, did he? Not to do with Etho’s disappearances. Not for years.

That wasn’t really fair at all, was it.

That wasn’t fair at all.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #ethoslab #etho #bdubs #bdouble0 #the clockers #hermitfic

[vampiricmycelium]

HAPPY ONE WEEK OF FIT BEING TRAPPED IN THE CORPSE PIT 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

#charlie has a boring life #qsmp fitmc #fitmc qsmp #it's been a week since he's been stuck down there #RIP #I wonder how he's doing #probably BAD

[eatyourdamnpears]

siblings stop being selfish challenge

#like Jesus fucking Christ #my brother basically gets off on the fact that he helps my mom with stuff (barely) because she’s disabled and can’t lift things #but half the things she asks him to do he’s like no I don’t wanna do THAT #like today for example #my mom found something she really wanted that she’s been looking for parts to make for months now on freecycle down the street from us #and asked my brother if he could pick it up for us since he’s ALSO on this street a lot (his ex lives on that street as well) #his response? ‘‘I thought it was gonna be from a business I don’t wanna deal with people today’’ #like dude???? #half the time people just leave the shit in their driveway #it’s the same amount of socialization you’d get at a cash register #like stop being a pussy and just pick shit up #I’m sorry I’m being bitter but it’s like again he gets off on saying he helps us but he spends maybe an hour? every two weeks helping #and even that is pulling teeth #and somehow while he’s doing that I’m stuck watching his kid for hours at a time without pay #which he does often #I’m just really sick of his shit #and my sister… she’s a whole other story I don’t have time to get into #vent tw

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞

❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞

✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K

It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 

But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 

It was him. 

You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 

“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 

He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 

“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 

Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 

He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 

And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 

Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 

And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 

And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 

Fuck. 

“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 

You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 

“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 

And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 

It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 

He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 

And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 

“I would,” 

And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 

Fuck. 

“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 

But how can you be quiet? 

The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 

And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 

And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 

He’s huge. 

The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.

“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 

“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 

“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 

And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 

He was too much. 

“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 

“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 

“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 

And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 

He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 

That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 

“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 

He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 

And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 

“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 

And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 

You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 

How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 

“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 

And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 

“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 

~~~~

The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 

And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…

You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 

“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 

“What are you—” 

“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 

“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 

“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 

“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 

“Mahito—“ 

“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 

Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 

You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 

“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?

Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 

“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 

“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 

This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 

“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 

“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 

“I will,” 

“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.

“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 

“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 

And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 

“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 

No time like the present, right?

“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 

And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 

“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 

“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 

“Have another lesson?” 

And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 

He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 

And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 

Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 

And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 

“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 

“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 

One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 

“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 

“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 

His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 

You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 

And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 

Your mouth runs dry. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 

Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 

“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 

And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 

His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 

His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 

He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 

And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 

Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 

He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 

“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.

“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 

And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 

“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 

“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 

“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 

Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 

“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 

The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 

“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 

God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 

~~~

The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 

“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 

You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 

You were picking up your boyfriend. 

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 

note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!

tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious

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