#under her large umbrella

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader smut #top reader #sub natasha romanoff #dom reader #bottom natasha romanoff #butch4femme #butch reader #femme4butch

[sugurizz]

(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

Nanami always keeps clear boundaries with his subordinates. He's a highly professional man who never crosses a line when it comes to mutual respect with everyone around him.

It's almost admirable in your eyes..How efficient he is, how perfectly he executes every task of his job. only does he seem different at times...

You're just so thoughtful it almost annoys him. You've already picked up on each and every one of his little habits; the way he likes his coffee, exactly when he takes his coffee breaks, where he usually hangs his freshly ironed jackets, where each piece of paperwork is kept in his office...

...Might be the old age but it makes him feel things when you knock on his door, when you greet him with the "Morning, Nanami-san, I sorted the documents from yesterday for you", or when you get his jacket for him without him even asking, with a sweet "Nanami-san, please don't forget your umbrella tomorrow, it's going to be rainy."

You're the only one who's allowed to adjust his tie when it's a bit loose, the only one allowed to lay your hands on his chest and fix his collar -breathing in the scent of his colone along the way-, the only one igniting his primal desire despite his exhausting life.

Might be the old age but he certainly wishes he could get this kind of treatment at home as well. He's rather lonely, overworked and tired whenever he gets back to his empty apartment..

Wouldn't it be better if you were the one to bake his fresh bread and prepare his delicious sandwiches for him? Give him a kiss before he heads to work and send him pictures of your legs spread with one of his designer ties barely covering your pussy?

Wouldn't it be so much better if he came back to strip you naked and take a steamy shower with you? push you on his king-sized bed to devour your sex, then have you all prepped and pretty to take his cock?

He'd be so happy with any of that, so happy he's now stroking himself and fondling his balls, trying his best to picture the way your tits pressed on his chest in the cramped elevator yesterday.

He knew your birthday was coming up but you never thought he'd even remember something so seemingly 'irrelevant' to him. So you didn't expect to find a luxurious box delievered to your doorstep, with a handwritten wishcard that had a familiar scent to it.

A note saying "wear them with your black heels, it'd look perfect" was inside the box, signed with a beautiful -Kento- on the corner...

---

"Nanami-san, your morning coffee." You greeted him with a smile the next day, leaning down as you gently posed the cup next to him.

"Nanami-san, I'm wearing your gift for my birthday. And the fabric feels so soft on me..."

a large hand pulled you back by the arm as you were about to walk off..

"Don't go there, sweet cheeks. you know I'll ruin you.."

"Then ruin me, Kento..."

I'll be at my desk if you ever need me."

You closed the door behind you, flashing him an innocent smile on the way...

---

Nanami san was missing at work that evening, secretary y/n was not there either. But thankfully your coworkers didn't know the reason behind your absence..

Nanami is busy training your throat in his spacious apartment. Your ass is on the cold floor tiles, body stripped to the lacy lingerie he bought you, caged between the wall and his lower half as he goes balls deep in your throat.

His tie is leashed around your neck with his leg pushing between your thighs, the tip of his expensive leather shoe bumping against your tiny clit.

"How much did this pussy think of me, hmm? does she like my shoe kissing her? playing with her?"

His leg presses harder, your eyes cross in pleasure as you suffocate on his veiny length..

"Look down princess, she's dirtying herself, drooling on my shoe.."

he frees himself from your mouth, leaving you with a drooly tongue and snotty nose as you shiver under him.

"Nanami..my pussy wants you, put it in her..please!"

"Nasty minx." He flicks his tongue with a grin, tears his shirt open to reveal his broad shoulders and toned chest, then tirelessly lifts you on his biceps.

"Aww...I want her too, princess.."

he kisses you senseless, giving himself a few pumps before he splits you open.

He's fevereshly rammimg inside you..golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, blushy cheeks blooming and hazel eyes almost teary as he finally feeds the hunger for you..

"Y/n...I need a wife! I want you-fuck-" you hug on him tighter, pussy clenching at the way he growls it against your lips... he paints your stomach white, his embrace deliciously crushing your body.

---

...A few days later the rumors started circulating among the coworkers; Both y/n and Nanami suddenly started wearing rings around the same time, and Nanami's office door started getting double locked, too often...

#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanamin #nanami headcanons #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #kento x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen

[lazyjellyfish300]

In Between the Bookshelves📚

AU Librarian!Miguel O'Hara x Fem grad student reader

(image isn't mine, found it on Instagram under the account @/ brokenohara and asked for their permission to post it)

Synopsis: a normal trip to the library results in a little bit more than you were expecting when you meet the new librarian on duty. Word count 4.6k

A/N: reposting this new and hopefully improved version of one of my very first Miguel fics I deleted a while back. I tried to make him more awkward and cute🖤🤓. Still not totally confident in the smut but oh well. Writing smut is so hard sometimes? Or maybe my skills have gone down, idk 😫 Hope you enjoy...

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT TOWARDS THE END: FINGERING, ORAL SEX F receiving, Gag(he uses his shirt to muffle your moans) Public sexual activity, talk of anxiety, mention of family troubles and anti-deity/religion language

It's 7:00 pm on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of October. You just got out of your evening Database Systems class. You can't help but feel poetic as you stroll down the grey, soaked, Manhattan streets twirling your umbrella, hot coffee in a cardboard cup in hand. Your shoulders begin to ache from the thin faux leather straps of your backpack. You're wearing your favorite brown sweater over a short sleeved black dress that hits you mid-thigh, with some holey black tights and your favorite knock-off Doc Martens. Damn, I still need to write that 2 page paper that's due tomorrow..

You decide at the last minute to spend your night at the library. You know you won't get anything done if you go back to your apartment. You spin on your heel and pick up the pace as you head hastily towards the NYIT library in Manhattan.

The library is pretty dead except for a group of three people sitting together in the middle table talking in hushed voices, one woman sitting on the floor scrolling with a laptop, and one jock looking fellow sitting at the computers, cracking his knuckles and bouncing his knee anxiously as he scans his assignment he's typing.

You sit down at the empty table right next to the librarian's desk. Since you're a regular here you recognize Polly, the librarian on duty who is a plump woman who looks to be in her 30s with short curly brown hair, wearing a mustard yellow cardigan and brown corduroy pants tonight. She's stapling papers together and gives you a small nod in acknowledgement as you sit down at the table in front of her desk.

She whispers to you, "I'm actually heading out for the evening, but the new person on duty should be here any minute now if you need any assistance."

You nod, and, speak of the devil, here he comes. You suddenly feel your chest get hot when you lay your eyes on the new librarian.

Tall, dark, and handsome would be the simplest way to define this man's appearance, but that would be a very feeble attempt at doing him justice. Sculpted bicep muscles push against the sleeves of his flannel with the cuffs rolled up halfway on his thick forearms. The flannel is unbuttoned and flaps gently away from his body as he walks, a white t-shirt underneath. He has broad, wide, shoulders and a narrow waist. He's also wearing dark wash athletic jeans and a pair of canvas slip ons. His hair has one stubborn strand in front from his small widow's peak that falls endearingly in the middle of his forehead. His most disarming quality is his eyes. A shade of brown that's earthy and natural like the sediment that decorates stream beds. He wears a stoic expression under large framed glasses.

He nods and mutters a "thank you" to the woman librarian as she shimmies into her coat and leaves. His eyes notice you and latch onto you momentarily. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you turn back to your laptop, unable to resume where you left off, wanting to start a conversation with him but not sure how. After a few painful moments of silence, and a quiet rumble outside from the ongoing rainstorm, you decide to break the ice by telling him your name. He blinks as you tell it to him, and you continue trying to make small talk to try and prod more out of him.

"Have I seen you here before? I come here a lot and I don't think I've met you yet."

"Miguel O'Hara," he answers shortly, but politely. "I'm a grad student. I started working for the university in exchange for assistance with my tuition."

You nod, feeling the heat leave your cheeks a little bit as you realize you could have a normal conversation with this man, and not just be an awkward mess around him the entire time. When he mentions he's a student, you realize you have something in common with him and try to go from there.

"These mid-terms are going to be the death of me. I have just one more paper to turn in then I can finally breathe, thank God..."

Miguel blows a short puff of air out of his nose seemingly in agreement, but doesn't say anything else.

He's quiet. Truth is you are too, and you're stepping way more out of your comfort zone than you normally would. Amazing what a pair of charming brown eyes could do to you.

"Honestly, if I had to work anywhere on campus I'd pick the library too. Seems peaceful with minimal people around, and everyone's required to be quiet by default. The ultimate dream workplace."

Miguel can't figure out why this stranger keeps talking to him, but you brought up a point he feels he needs to clarify.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Most people that come in here are loud and inconsiderate as hell. And there's always that one person who hasn't heard of shocking headphones. Always."

The corner of your mouth raises. "God, that would drive me insane. Being a librarian isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Miguel shakes his head. "No. More like a glorified adult babysitter who knows where the historical fiction section and restrooms are located, and that's about it. That's literally the only two questions I get asked all day." He turns to look at you more fully, this conversation a slight breath of fresh air, the first chance he's gotten in a while to air out his grievances as the night librarian.

He continues, complaining about the horny couples he's had the misfortune of overhearing get busy on the beanbags in the far corner, and the people who leave random drinks and empty chips bags on the shelves and seem to have forgotten what alphabetical order means when they put books back.

You listen to all of it, nodding your head, and let out a cackle at his expressions he's making with those defined, bushy brows of his. He talks with his hands and it's a little endearing to watch him be so animated. This expressive side you've managed to crack through beneath his solemn exterior.

Miguel feels warmth rise in his body at the sound of your laugh for the first time. It's genuine and hearty, and honestly it's funnier than whatever bad quip he just made and he can't help but feel a little more attracted to you after hearing it. You were a good listener, and he appreciated that a lot about you.

You glance at the windows across the room, nodding in its direction with a remark about the weather, how rainstorms are your favorite. He tells you he loves them as well.

Soon, the others have shifted out of the library and he's now sitting in the chair across from you leaning his chin in his hand, listening to you speak as the rain gently pelts the windows outside.

He finds out you're originally from a smaller town, and you came to New York City for college and to escape your overbearing parents. You're 26 years old and trying to finish this Master's degree after taking one too many semesters off. You tell him about your mom who's a bit of a pushover, and your dad who's kind of an asshole.

He tells you he's 29 and has a younger brother who lives on the other side of the city, and his mom is similar to yours. She's kind but tends to set herself on fire to keep her kids warm. Like you, his dad is also a bit of an ass.

You're both introverted, but you can fake it when you need to, which he appreciates, otherwise he never would have been brave enough to say something to you this evening.

You two share a love of education and coffee. You discuss religion.

"I just don't get it, I'm supposed to love this guy and accept Him into my heart because He died for my sins even though I didn't ask Him to do that? But yet if I break any of His rules I get sent to the Inferno for all of eternity?"

"Sounds like a toxic relationship." Miguel quips as he spins your nearly empty coffee cup across the table absentmindedly.

"Exactly!"

You two talk about love as he shuffled some stray books back to their rightful place.

"C'mon, I know you've had to have dated at least once."

Miguel shakes his head. "Well, I did date a girl in high school. Knew her since the 7th grade. But she pretty much ripped my heart out when I saw her making out with one of my buddies on graduation night. I've had a couple dates here and there since then but that's it."

You click your pen. "Damn, so we both have exes from hell that we dated in high school?"

Miguel nods his head. "It would appear we do. I'm sorry you know the pain and annoyance of adolescent heartbreak too."

You shrug your shoulders. "It happens, y'know? It's like one of those things in life you're just meant to experience. It's like, unavoidable you know? And there's nothing you can do about it. What would you call that? Like not a trope per se, but almost like.... destiny?"

Miguel shrugs in return, "Like a canon event?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Yeah... exactly. How'd you come up with that?"

The ghost of a smirk appears on his face, "Just made sense to me, I guess."

You two sit at the table again and he asks about your childhood and you explain that you suffered from anxiety as long as you can remember and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes.

You do your best to try and ignore what feels like his knee pressing against your calf under the table. The thought of touching him sends heat waves through your body, but you remain frozen in place to send the message you're not opposed to more contact. Miguel feels it too, and deep down his leg is falling asleep with the way it's positioned but he's too nervous to move, either.

You both love the nighttime over mornings, and you show him one of your favorite playlists. He smiles at you tenderly as he holds one of the earphones to his ear.

Soon, it's 10:30 pm and he needs to do his closing duties. Luckily, there weren't any patrons who needed his assistance during his whole shift, proving his point earlier. Before he excuses himself, you two sit in silence for the longest time, both trying to gauge if now's the time to say goodbye to one another, but neither of you wanting to actually be the one who does.

Not sure if it was the absence of any light outside, the late hour, the good conversation you two shared, or a combination of all three, but the ripple of attraction you harbored for him has now washed over you completely and morphed into a formidable wave, threatening to take over your whole body, the darkness of this library and persistence of the ongoing storm outside pushing you closer to him.

He's staring at the corner of your laptop, similar feelings ebbing through him, not sure what's got into him. The art of flirting turned itself into uncharted territory for him a longggg time ago.

He finally decided to look at you but you're already looking at him and he snaps his gaze back down onto the bare table below him, silently cursing in his head as a shade of red fluster rises in his cheeks.

You realize you're going to have to be the one to be brave this time again. "Well, this has been fun...."

Miguel scoffs, starting to bounce his leg under the table. "You say that in the most sarcastic tone known to man."

You return with a scoff of your own, adding a smile, "Well I mean, technically you were working this whole time, isn't that boring?"

Miguel shrugs, the heat in his face returning. "You made it more fun..." The volume in his voice decreasing to a murmur.

You look down as well, your heart fluttering in your chest. You really wanted to kiss him. Or just be closer to him, you don't know why. Of course he was cute as hell but after talking to him for hours, there was no denying a spark had formed. You just didn't know whether one or both of you would make the first move to actually do something about it.

Miguel can't believe that he's actually going to try and attempt to ask you to stay longer with him, but he's going to. Just to hang out some more, maybe keep up that amazing conversation you two were sharing just before this. Completely innocent.

Well, if the way the glow from the desk lamp keeps on making your face look so warm and alluring, he's not sure he'll have the strength to shut down any escapades that ensue later, as long as you're completely up for it, of course.

He inhales "Um...so not sure if you have things to do later or..."

You look at him, pupils widening with anticipation at his pending question.

He goes to say, "I was wondering if you wanted to keep hanging out," but it gets combined with the phrase, "Do you want to stay here a little longer," and the word jumbo that exits his mouth is a little incoherent.

"Was wondering if you were wondering to stay and keep hanging longer out?"

You blink rapidly at his blunder, and he groans, placing his face in his hands.

You immediately feel bad for him, shaking your head and sliding a hesitant hand towards his arm. You stumble over your words too sometimes and it's always fucking humiliating when it happens, so you feel no judgement towards him whatsoever. If anything now he's even more attractive. Every little cute thing about him is just pushing you towards him closer than ever before.

Your fingertips skim across the top of the table and press gently into his forearm. He slowly rolls his head to look at you, his cheek resting in his arms as his eyes look at you from behind his glasses which are slightly askew from the way his face is positioned.

His face is still red, but his heart flutters at your sweet smile. "Sorry, my brain just...takes a dump on me when I try to be smooth sometimes..." Miguel mumbles with a weak chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

You shake your head. "I do the same thing...but to answer your question....yes please..." Your voice becomes quieter at the word "please", an trickle of lust you added on purpose, hoping he's picking up on the vibe you're putting down with the way you're gazing into his eyes, your fingers pressed against his arm, the subtle scoot closer you just made with your chair.

Miguel releases a shaky breath, oh, he's paying attention alright. Damn it all if he doesn't take the leap right now. He decides to ask one more time to be sure, slowing down so he gets it right this time.

"Will....you stay longer, with me?" his voice is low, almost a whisper even though it's only the two of you in his dark library, but it's dripping with seduction. A low rumble from the rain clouds interrupts the pause between his question and your answer.

"Yeah..." you say softly back with double affirmation, a sneaky smile forming on your lips. He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, a woozy feeling in his stomach for what's about to happen in the next few minutes.

He excuses himself and goes back to his desk, typing on his computer, the excitement of having you alone making him just type nonsense for the first few moments, wheeling away some carts to the back and stowing a stray book back where it belongs. 

It's now 11 pm. Closing time. Miguel turns off all the lights except for his small desk lamp. The clouds are still rolling and rumbling outside with the wind whistling against the windows. Raindrops are still decorating the street. It's a beautifully dark, sensual scene just for the two of you. 

He laces his fingers in between yours and leads you to a dark space in between two large bookshelves. His hand is clammy, and he's a little embarrassed about it on the inside but you squeeze it reassuringly. There was literally nothing he could do at this point to make your crush on him go away. The shelves tower over both of you, even Miguel, who's 6 foot 9. 

He leans a hand against the shelf just above and to the right of your head. He accidentally pins a piece of your hair under his hand, making you wince a tiny bit. 

"Augh.." 

Miguel's eyes dart in alarm to search for what he did that caused you pain and he realizes your hair is trapped under his hand. He pulls it away, shaking his hand and flicking his fingers in an effort to free any of your strands from it. "Goddamit...." 

He rolls his head backwards in exasperation at his epic failure of having zero game tonight. You hold onto the flaps of his flannel, making him look at you. "Hey, hey come on...it's okay...." 

He finally looks down at you and his lips fall open at your beauty, his heart rate speeding up much more quickly now, and he brings a shaky hand to your face. In his mind, he can't help but realize he's being a huge hypocrite, committing the same sins as his horny patrons of getting busy in the library. But seriously though, at least he had the decency to make sure it was after closing when he was off the clock. 

You feel your knees go weak as he brings his other hand to your face, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. He wets his lips and he leans in pressing his tongue gently in the space he opened in your bottom lip, begging to be let in. You oblige immediately, diving forward into his soft lips, goosebumps appearing on your arms. 

Oh fuck....this kiss felt good. He forgot how nice it felt to share intimacy with someone, those feelings that laid dormant for so long rising and nearly bubbling past the surface. It's all coming back to him as he just wills himself to get lost in the warmth of your mouth, the sheer layer of your Chapstick leaving a tasty feeling on his tongue. 

You considered yourself decently experienced, but the way his lips move on their own show you he's a force to be reckoned with and you'd be more than happy to sit back and let him handle things...this handsome, geeky, sweet librarian...

The noises you two make as you desperately kiss each other are little shuffles as you bump into the shelf behind you, with an occasional "oh fuck...," from Miguel. Hearing how turned on he's getting causes you to let your first moan escape your lips.

Once he hears it, he needs more. His hands make their way to your ass and hoist you up onto an empty bookshelf ladder and he sets you down on one of the rungs. You grab his shirt in your fists, not tearing your lips away from his. 

"Do you care about these?" Miguel says softly, out of breath, his mind running a million miles a minute before his actions can catch up to him, gently pinching the thin material of your tights between his thumb and pointer finger as his palms grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs. You shake your head no, wanting to fuck already. 

Then, his hand is in your crotch, ripping a whole right in the middle, tearing away at the fabric concealing your ripe pussy away from him as though it's the cover of a brand new novel. His cold pointer finger hooks behind your panties and pulls it to the side. You gasp loudly as you feel his finger and the cold air hit your soaked heat. 

He chuckles, his breaths still coming out in rapid, succession, the baritone hum of his voice only adding to the wetness between your legs. 

"Sorry, my hands are cold..." Then you can't believe what's happening when he drops to his knees, spreading you open like a book. His elbows pin your knees against the sides of the ladder, the wood pressing painfully into your kneecaps, but the sensation he gives you next makes you forget about the whole thing. 

His tongue glosses over your wet pussy like a finger stroking the edge of a page. His nose tickles the tiny hairs sprouting from it as he takes a deep breath in, the smell of you going straight to his cock. He teases the lips of your pussy for a moment, an agonizing back and forth along the slit...

....back....and..... forth

"God....you're so wet..." 

Back.....

"Miguel..." you whimper..

and forth...

"Fuck...." your fingers shake as you ball them into a fist...

before his tongue dips into your wet hole. Your back arches on instinct, making your body lurch forward, accidentally pushing his tongue further into you which he welcomes eagerly by gripping low on your ass to hold you in place. 

You shudder and twitch violently, throwing your head back at the insanely divine attention he's injecting between your thighs. Miguel pauses for a moment, tenderly licking the inside of your thigh before sealing it with a kiss as his eyes flicker up to you. 

"You okay?...." he whispers. 

You release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, a slightly empty feeling as the mind numbing pleasure was abruptly switched off. 

"Yeah, yeah...I'm okay." 

Miguel reassumes his position, tongue fucking you. The soft pad of his tongue fondling the plush walls inside you. He lets out a low groan and he feels you turn to putty in his grasp, his head gently bobbing as his tongue completes lap after lap eating you, enjoying you, savoring you....every drop from that pretty pussy soon seeping out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Your moans grow louder than they ever have, plucking him from his pussy-drunk state. He stands up in a panic and rips off his flannel, bunching it up as his eyes do a quick scan to make sure you're both still all alone. 

"Shhhh.....baby, we need to be quiet.....bite this for me." 

His angelic face comes up to look at you, his forehead pressing tenderly against yours and your eyes go half lidded at the sight of your arousal glistening down his chin, shiny on his thick neck from the thin flickers of moonlight that have managed to leak through the darkened windows of the library. 

You do as you're told, biting his flannel and he stuffed it hastily in your mouth, making a makeshift gag as your eyes water. His elbows assume their position pinning your thighs back and he's back between them again. 

You understand why he made you a gag as he goes directly for your clit this time. You yelp, your sound muffled by the fabric. Your nails dig into his shoulders, two perfect handles while you ride his face. The material of his shirt is thin and you feel every muscle ripple under your palms as he moves to keep fucking you with his mouth. 

Your clit throbs to near overstimulation but Miguel doesn't relent. He swirls his tongue with low sighs of appreciation, unable to tear himself away from the wet heaven in front of his face. 

His saliva and your slick mix together until it's all the same. The love you're dripping onto him and the love he's licking into you becoming a lewd stream of passion. He groans into your pussy as his bulging cock begs to relieve itself of all the cum built up with tormenting ache. 

He decides he wants to watch you cum. He gets up, replacing his tongue with his thumb and his first two fingers, pumping into you with a circular rhythm and easing your clit at a torturous pace. 

"On me, baby...." he whispers. 

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you look at him, a little unsure of what he said. "Mmmm?...." You ask with a high pitched sigh. 

"Keep those pretty eyes on me..." he repeats, his own eyes going half-lidded from the lure of your mouth hanging open. "Fuck...." 

He abandons his plan momentarily as he rips his flannel from your mouth to kiss you again. You invade his mouth with your tongue and he mumbles your name again in response. You start to taste yourself and then whimper when you realize the pleasure is beginning to become too much. 

"Miguel," you pant. "Baby, it's so much...." your breaths begin to hyperventilate. 

Miguel gives a low sigh when you say his name, his cock straining once more when he realized he drew you to say it. He tilts his head at you, his jaw open and curls into a smile when he sees how crazy he's driving you. 

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna watch you while you do..." 

You try to look at a spot on the ceiling but Miguel interrupts your concentration when he moves his head to keep himself in your vision. The spiciness of this sexy encounter banishing all fears he had before. No, he won't let you look at anything else when you cum.

He gives a loud grunt and clasps a hand over your mouth, fingers turning white, muffling your cry of sweet release as you squirt all over his flannel, your passion causing a few books to collapse from the shelf. 

You shake and start to shiver all over as the sweat you produced during all the action starts to cool. Your hands are tingly and numb. Miguel gives a soft chuckle and presses a soft kiss into your temple with his wet lips and another one on your mouth before he returns his tongue to your thighs, collecting any remaining arousal left behind. 

You rest your head back on the ladder rung behind your head, reeling in your come down. He smiles and plants a kiss into your thigh before bidding it farewell, then comes up and hugs you, nestling you in his tantalizing embrace, as he rests his cheek in your hair. 

"Thank you..." you murmur, only barely sobering up from your high, his musk and cologne delivering you to a whole new state of intoxication. 

He smiles down at you in response and holds your face in both hands, running his thumbs along your cheeks. 

"See me tomorrow?" 

You practically melt at those big brown eyes of his, glasses still slightly askew and the neck of his wrinkled shirt dampened with his sweat, silently hoping you will. 

You beam up at him and nod enthusiastically and he chuckles and plants a line of kisses on your neck as you giggle underneath him. After a few soft hugs and another round of delicate kisses, he walks you to the door. Making you promise you'll call him as soon as you get home as a reluctant compromise at his uneasiness of you walking alone in the dark.

He watches you walk away into the night and doesn't stop until he sees you safely board the bus. He turns around and goes back inside the library, shutting off his desk light with a small click. 

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #spotify #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #Spotify

[caitlynscat]

Beach Day with the girls

Enid, Bianca and Divina take a swim while the raven and vampire stay on the sand huddling under a large umbrella

Divina: Was it a good idea to bring them along?

Bianca: They look miserable.

Enid: Well…. They didn’t want to be left out. Besides they have each other!

-hiding under the umbrella-

Yoko: We look like idiots here.

Wednesday: Ugh, why does the sun have to be so bright?

Yoko: We should’ve just stayed home.

Wednesday: For once. I agree.

Yoko: *leans head on Wednesday’s shoulder*

Wednesday: *pushes her off*

#wednesday #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #incorrect wednesday #incorrect wenclair #wednesday x enid #emma myers #wenclair imagine #the addams family #incorrect quotes #incorrect wednesday addams #netflix wednesday

[bunnys-kisses]

virtual - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, the womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business. tags: pwp, cam worker!reader, hair pulling, biting, dark(ish) themes, toji is your number one fan, 3.1k

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Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business.

He loved a cute cam girl on a sketchy website under the username ‘DeerlyDoe’. He had seen your face a few times, but he had always seen your body. And he liked what he saw. He loved a girl with a little meat on her bones who knew how to use those curves.

He wanted to do unsavory things to you, nothing illegal or heinous. He wanted to see what those glossed lips could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did want to make you scream his name.

  “Shit,” He grunted to himself as he pleasured himself in front of his shitty computer. The internet in the hole he lived in was terrible, your perfect body was all pixels but he couldn’t deny the heat in his body from seeing you.

He relaxed in his chair and stroked his cock. he was a quiet tipper, he sent tips anonymously. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, even though the tips were large. The excitement in your voice when you saw the number was enough for him.

Currently you are riding a dildo that you stuck to the tile floor of your kitchen. He watched your body shake with each movement. It made his cock tense in his hand, thick like a pipe and solid like a brick. He groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke himself.

His face felt hot and a bit of drool ran down his chin in his pursuit for pleasure. The pleasure was building up in his gut the closer he came to climax. And he could tell you were getting close as well. He began to edge himself so he could have the pleasure of finishing alongside you. There were many things he’d do in order to see it in real life. To watch your body move before his very eyes.

He heard your moans get higher and before he knew it you were finishing all over the dildo. You soaked the toy in your wetness. The sounds that followed your aching pussy around the dildo brought Toji over the edge.

He created a mess to the front of his sweatpants, but he felt relaxed. He dropped his arms over both sides of the chair and exhaled deeply. “Yeah.” He said breathlessly.

-

Toji never imagined that he’d ever meet you in real life. He knew you were located in Japan, but he ever expected to see you in Shibuya. It was late spring and the rain came down in sheets, but Toji was crawling the streets looking for a way to kill time.

At a crosswalk, he noticed someone beside him. He looked over and saw a familiar sight. Now of someone that he knew, but his little fixation on the internet. His eyes went wide at the sight of you. He was in disbelief at the sight but then he noticed that you were trying to protect yourself from the rain.

Without thinking he tilted his umbrella to cover your head. What he noticed next was how beautiful your eyes looked when you gazed up at him. He never expected to run into someone to beautiful. So how the hell did Toji end up back at your place with you digging through your belongings to find something big enough to change in. He thought it was impossible for you. You were so small, and he was so big. How was he even going to fit in anything you owned?

The DeerlyDoe was in front of him, digging through his expensive wardrobe to find something for him to wear. How endearing. He watched your ass as you were bent over. He even was a little wiggle as you dug further into the wardrobe.

He wondered how expensive your clothes were, and how much would you have lost if he tore the items off of you? The thought made him smirk but he dropped it when you turned around with a simple compression shirt and shorts in hand.

  “That's all I have, it’s from an ex-boyfriend. I’m glad I didn’t throw it out.” You giggled sheepishly.

The idea of you having a boyfriend made his chest freeze. But he composed himself with a cough and replied, “Well, I’m glad you had it. There was no need to do this much for me. Thank you.”

 “You gave up your umbrella and got all wet! How could I not repay you?”

He smiled as gently as he could, “Fair point. But I am still thankful.” He started to strip his clothes off and you observed his partially naked body.

You swallowed and felt heat rise in your cheeks. There was a strange man in your home. You tried to create a little room for him to change, but he kept getting closer. Like he enjoyed your closeness. You felt your heart stammer.

What were you thinking letting this strange man into your home? But those dark eyes and that scar. He was a bad boy, and you had your little fixation of bad boys. You swallowed once more then smiled at him. “I hope it fits.” You said, “You can take it home with you.“

He chuckled softly, ”Actually, I was wondering if I could take you home. I think you'd look good on my bed.“

The blush felt like it reached your scalp as you covered your mouth with your hands. You let out a small 'eep' noise from the embarrassment. Which only in turn made him laugh.

Once he was changed, he went over to you and took your hands away from your mouth. He looked down at you as he held your wrists probably a little tighter than for someone as delicate as you.

  “No one invites strange men into their homes unless they want their ducts clean or their pussy ate.” He grinned at you, enamored by your shyness. It was so much different than the woman in the live streams. But he still loved it.

  “Mister Fushiguro, sir.” You squeaked. He had told you his name when you walked back to your home. He held your wrists to your head to keep you steady, and he leaned in for a solid kiss. Your eyes closed and you felt the hammering in your chest.

By instinct you held onto him as you leaned up to meet his kiss more. The shirt felt familiar, but the muscles underneath did not. You gasped into the kiss as he cradled the back of your head.

When he pulled away you asked, “Is it too late to ask you to clean my ducts?” You giggled nervously.

He ran a thumb across your bottom lip to see if the lip gloss stayed on. He replied, “Interesting.“

  ”What do you mean?“ You asked curiously.

  ”Don't worry. As much as I love the clothes you've given to me. I think it's best if I take them off. How does that sound?“

You looked into those dark eyes and nodded, anything for him. You saw him smile, it almost looked terrifying, like you were the prey and he was the predator. He kissed your lips once more before he started to take off the clothes you lent him.

Your heart raced at the idea of being intimate with this man. It had been so long since you had actual sex with someone. Usually you did things alone in your tiny apartment. But here was a man, a very handsome man, taking off his clothes in front of you.

The sight of his muscles as he took off the already tight shirt made you gasp. He was perfection, he wa danger, he made your head spin. It wasn't until his hands were back on you that you realized that maybe you should get undressed as well.

You felt heat in your body as you removed your sundress and left you bare in a simple bra and underwear. Your breathing was growing rapid as the heat in the main room grew warmer. You whispered, “I'm sorry if I don't look very good.“ You crossed your arms self consciously.

He pulled your arms away from you and held both wrists in one hand. He leaned in and tucked hair behind your ear, “I don't want to hear you say that ever again. If I didn't want a taste of that pussy, then I wouldn't be here now. I want you to be a good girl for me.” His breath was hot and left tingles down your spine.

He told you to leave him in the bedroom and you did as you were told. Afterall you were a good girl.

You couldn't believe what was going on, but a curious part of you went along with it. You were used to performing in front of a camera, but to have the real thing sent excitement through you. You blushed as you opened the bedroom door and Toji pressed his front against your back.

  “You want me to touch you?” He asked seductively.

You nodded, “Please, sir.” Then moaned when he started to feel up your breasts. You held onto his strong forearms, you could barely get your hands around them. You could feel his erection against your back, which made you grow even more flustered.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You know, I watch you perform almost every night. You help me relax, I always wondered what that pussy tasted like.”

  “You mean-”

  “Yeah, DeerlyDoe. I know that your pussy can take a beating.” He smirked into your ear before he bit your neck. He played with your nipples over your bra, “I've had my fantasies about you, what I'd do to you. Do you think tonight we can try some of them out?”

  “I've never had sex a fan before.“ You admitted.

He chuckled, ”Don't worry, I'll go easy. Maybe you'll like it so much that you'll never even think about having sex with a fan again.“ His voice was hot in your ear as he continued to touch you. His grip was rough as he played with your breasts.

You took off the underwear you wore and got onto the bed. You laid out for him to see every curve of your body. You watched him lick his lips as rain battered your window. Your nipples were hard from his teasing and between your legs was slick from the arousal.

He smirked once more, ”What a sight. A proper whore, ready to accept any cock she's given.“ He watched you grow flustered once more and he approached the bed. His hard cock bobbed with every step, ”I hope you know, I like it bare. I think you can tell, no condoms fit me.“

You swallowed and nodded. You watched him get into bed and you felt his length graze your thigh as he got closer. Your body felt electric and hot. Your heart was racing. You weren't too sure how it was all going to fit inside of you, but you had to try. Your core throbbed for the feeling of it inside of you.

  ”Dirty girl.” He remarked as he kissed your neck. His teeth dug into your skin, hard enough to leave an indent. You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. He groaned against you, you felt amazing. He could feel the sweat on his back as he pinned you down to the bed.

  “Please, sir. Fushiguro, sir.“ You whimpered like a puppy which only aroused him further. His cock moved against your thigh once more and he caught a hint of how wet you were between your legs.

He groaned, the time for foreplay was over. He kept your arms pinned above your head with one large hand and your legs tightly locked around his waist. He gazed down at you with lust marking his face. With his free hand he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. He felt the stretch of your sex and he groaned.

You on the other hand were tense and it ached. You couldn't grip onto the bed for support. Your back arched but he kept you pinned down to the bed. Your heart raced as he sank himself inside of you. It was a tad painful, but it felt so good.

  ”Good girl.“ He groaned, he could've climaxed so easily but he edged himself not to. With one hand on your hip and the other holding you down, he began to thrust his hips. His cock pushed further inside of you and you moaned so loudly. Your noises made a shiver run up his spine to ecstasy.

  ”Please, sir.”

  “I know you can take it, I've seen you take more than this.” He growled. He recalled every dildo and toy you ever used on yourself. You once told the stream you liked the pain. He watched you moaning as you gasped loudly.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the two on you fucked on the bed. The bed creaked from the movements and eventually Toji sloppily made out with you to shut you up. You felt the pleasure and the pain mix together in a way that left you speechless. You tightened your legs around the other man and tried to meet his pace.

Your heart raced and when he parted the kiss you said, “Fushiguro, ah, please.”

He smirked down at you, and your eyes gazed upon the scar on his lip. Part of you wanted to lick it, but he kept you pinned to the bed. You whimpered loudly some more and Toji let go of your hands but found his large, calloused hand in your hair. He yanked on the  strands to pull you up towards him.

He held your hair in his hand as he bit your bottom lip and kissed you. You whined into the kiss from the subtle pain across your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped you back on the bed and leaned back a little to get a better angle of his thrusts.

You saw stars as his cock hit every sweet spot inside of you. It felt like his cock was in the back of your throat the way he was moving inside of you. The sheer size took the wind out of you with each powerful thrust. You were becoming addicted to his feelings for him. It was arousing.

 “Good girl.” He said with a low growl to his voice.

You were sweaty all over as your body moved up and down on the bed. You gasped loudly as his cock bulled your cervix, it was so different when it was a real person rather than a toy. You managed to get  a hold of the covers under you and anchored yourself as his thrusts got more aggressive.

He groaned against you as he continued to move his body. His thrusts became erratic in a pursuit for climax. You gasped, moaned and whimpered which only encouraged him. His body throbbed with a need for release. This felt like nothing he had ever felt before, and he had his fair share of pussy.

He could tell why you were so good at what you did. His breathing was rapid as he held onto your hips with both hands and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. Sweat dripped from his hair down his back muscles.

There was so much he wanted to do to you, right now was just the taster. He licked his lips with want as he watched your heavy breathing. You were a total slut, you loved anything that would stuff those holes of yours.

He wanted to bite, bruise and mark you. To make you his. He'd let you do your shows but maybe his name tattooed on your thigh would be a reminder to your viewers that you were a taken woman. The thought made his cock throb. Maybe he could convince you of that. But first he'd have to break your brain while fucking it out of your skull.

He hunched over and dug his hands into the bed under you. He growled as he felt the pleasure race through his body. This felt good, you felt good. His muscles moved with each thrust of his hips. He knew he was getting close.

As were you.

The sex was rough, extreme to an extent. But you were both lost in the vastness of pleasure that you two kept going. You reached out for him and made out with him once more. He groaned into the kiss and put one hand in your hair again.

He pulled on it and you groaned into the kiss. Your pussy clenched around him and he made a noise that came from deep inside of him. That felt good.

The best continued to creak as the two of you fucked like two horny animals. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and you knew that you were both going to orgasm soon. You pulled away from the kiss and panted wildly.  

  “You're so good.' He grumbled, “Such a good hole to fuck. I might have to keep you to myself. See what else those hips can do. I'll need a good fuck after the work I do.” He grabbed your breasts so tightly that you knew they were going to put purple bruises come morning.

You whined and arched your pain from the pain, but yet it still made you core throb for him. With another heavy thrust you came all over his cock, you coated it in your wetness. You let out a high-pitched moan that was more erotic than anything that he ever saw online.

You went laxed on the bed but still held onto the sheets as you let Toji use your body to achieve his own orgasm. The bed continued to move, with it hitting the wall. Your breathing was heavy and your mind felt hazy.

With a few more thrusts into your tight cunt. he finished inside of you. He groaned as he did so before he leaned forward once more and gave you a searing kiss. You two made out with his softening cock still inside of you as the both of you came down from your orgasms.

  “Sir.”

  “Good girl, I hope you're ready for more because I'm not done with you. Now be a good girl and get on all fours for me. I want to see what ass.” He groaned against you before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

You knew that you'd be seeing a lot of Toji Fushiguro after this, he may have been a fan but now he's making you feel really good and not from high donations.

#bunny writes #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji x you

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.2

Chapter Summary: Events from Tommy and Maria's engagement party force you to confront your feelings with Joel about the future.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, smut (MDNI 18+), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk, angst, fear of commitment, talk of pregnancy

WC: 7.7K

Series masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You couldn't have picked a hotter day to host the engagement party. Sweat trickled down your neck as you finished cleaning up your kitchen, cursing yourself the whole time for coming up with the idea in the first place. You straightened up and looked around the first floor, deciding you were finally satisfied with the result before sliding on your sneakers to go find your friend and co-worker, Carrie, outside.

Jogging down the porch steps, you spun your head in either direction before spotting her across the street talking to Julia, one of Jackson's elementary school teachers, and balancing a large box on her hip. They both turned and gave a wave when they saw you approach.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, your skin feeling instantly flush when the sun's rays hit you. "House is all clean, ready to start setting up?"

"Yeah! Julia was just telling me what a fun time her kids had making the decorations, that was such a good idea," Carrie said, flicking her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and fanning the back of her neck.

"It was a great distraction from the heat this week," Julia said with a smile. "I'm glad we could help out. You girls give me a call if you need any help over there, I'll come right over."

"Seth's supposed to come by later and borrow your oven," you reminded her, and she nodded.

You both thanked her and headed back across the street. The original plan had been to have everyone in your backyard, but the amount of people on the guest list grew so large that you decided to just set up tents and tables right in the middle of the street, with your house as the home base for all the food. People would be able to easily filter in and out as they needed throughout the night. All you had to do was hang up the decorations inside and on your porch, as well as set up various tables inside to hold all the food. Seth was providing the majority, but everyone in town wanted to pitch in and help so by the end, it turned out to be a potluck.

Carrie was helping you pin up a huge banner across your porch railing congratulating the happy couple when a few of the men in town arrived to set up the tents, tables and chairs in the street. All of your neighbors supplied whatever they could to the cause: folding tables, patio furniture, camping chairs. It was a bunch of mismatched furniture under tents and umbrellas, but as long as there were enough places for people to sit, that was all that mattered.

"C'mon, let's go sit in front of the fan inside, I'm dying," Carrie told you once you had finished decorating the porch. You agreed, following her inside to grab some water and rest.

"Where's Joel?" she asked you, flopping down on the couch and throwing her leg over the arm while she took a long drink of water.

"He's helping Seth bring all the meat over," you explained, sitting down across from her to catch your breath. "They'll be here in a bit." You had planned the start of the party for dinnertime, hoping the sun would be lower by that point and possibly cooler.

"He's got to be so happy for Tommy," she said.

"Oh, yeah, of course. He probably thought Tommy would never settle down, the way he used to get around at work," you said with a giggle.

"I always forget you three knew each other before the outbreak," Carrie replied. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

"Tell me about it," you said with a sigh. "I think I've lived three lives since then."

Carrie eyed you for a moment, her eyes shining with a playful glint you knew usually accompanied some type of gossip.

"Sooo..." she began, swinging her leg back and forth over the arm of the couch with a smirk. "You think you and Joel are next?"

You sputtered on your water, somehow not expecting her to steer the conversation in that direction.

"What?" you managed to squeak out, your pulse quickening.

"Well, you two have been together for years. Longer than Tommy and Maria. I figured them getting engaged would have gotten you guys thinking about it, too," she said with a shrug.

"No. No, I don't think so," you said, shaking your head.

"Have you guys talked about it?"

"Well... no. But I don't think - um, he's never..." you struggled to finish your sentence, not sure how to verbalize the jumbled mess in your head.

"What? You think he's never thought about it?" Carrie asked, furrowing her brows.

"He was engaged a long time ago and it ended badly, I don't think that's something he's interested in doing again," you finally said, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. You wiped your palms on your shorts, suddenly feeling clammy.

"Well, that doesn't mean anything. He's crazy about you, why wouldn't he want to marry you?"

Your mouth felt dry as you considered her words. With a shaky hand, you grabbed your water and took a long sip. Carrie eyed you carefully, finally noticing your nerves.

"Do you want to marry him?" she asked softly. You looked over at her with wide eyes.

"I... I'm not sure," you finally admitted. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You can't repeat this to anyone, Carrie, I'm serious." She nodded and crossed her heart, sitting upright so she could give you her full attention.

"I love him. More than anything. And I don't want to be with anyone else," you began as she nodded along. "But the thought of marrying him scares the shit out of me."

"Why?" she asked incredulously. You shrugged.

"I can't be sure. I've been thinking about it for weeks and I can't come up with just one answer. I just hope I figure it out before -"

Just then, the screen door swung open and you heard Seth and Joel's voices carrying down the hall. You widened your eyes at Carrie and made a cross over your heart, which she returned with a resolute nod and put on her game face.

"Ladies," Seth said in greeting with a nod as he headed over to your oven, twisting the nobs to preheat it and began to shove covered trays of food inside. You both stood up and entered the kitchen, ready to help. Joel followed down the hall shortly after, placing his armful of food on the counter before turning to you both.

"Looks great out there," he said with a quick kiss to the top of your head. You inhaled deeply, taking in his intoxicating scent: a mix of his sweat and the soap he used that morning. What was wrong with you for not wanting to marry this man?

"I'm gonna take the rest of these across the street," Seth said as he scooped up the remaining trays and slipped his boots back on.

"Thanks, Seth," you called after him as he pushed open the door with a quick wave over his shoulder.

"I was going to head home and get ready, unless you need anything else?" Carrie asked, and you shook your head, thanking her as well. She gave Joel a quick smile as she made her way to the front door. Once she was sure his back was to her, she gave you a look and mouthed we'll talk later before she headed back out into the blistering heat.

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me, right?" Joel asked, a pained expression on his face when you came down the stairs and he saw the dress you had put on for the party.

"What?" you replied, genuinely perplexed as you met him in the kitchen. It was a simple sundress: pale blue with small flowers that fell just above your knee. You adjusted one of the spaghetti straps, feeling self-conscious. It wasn't racy by any means, but the way he was staring made you feel like you were wearing a corset and stockings.

"How am I supposed to keep my hands off you when you're wearin' this?" he murmured, closing the gap between you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"It's nothing special, Joel," you said with a laugh. "All the women will be wearing dresses, it's hot as hell out."

"It's special if it's on you," he said right before slotting his lips against yours, taking your breath away. He supposed you were right. It was a relatively modest dress, but he couldn't help his reaction. You used to wear dresses or skirts almost every day at the office before the outbreak, but it was a rarity now. One he didn't want to waste.

"Jesus, you're insatiable lately," you teased, giving his chest a gentle shove so you could create some space, knowing full well people would be arriving any minute to set up their dish to share.

"Well, can you blame me?" he shot right back, about to descend upon your neck when the screen door slammed open and shut. He groaned when he heard Carrie and her boyfriend, Jake, call out from the hallway.

"In here!" you replied, giving Joel's hand a quick squeeze before letting it go to greet the first of your guests.

Fortunately, once the sun set, the temperature did seem to drop a few degrees. You and Joel sat at a table with Tommy and Maria, getting small pockets of conversation in between all the well-wishers stopping by to chat and examine her ring. You probably heard the story of how Tommy proposed about twenty times by the time you started your third drink, feeling pleasantly relaxed and pleased at how well the party came together after all the hard work everyone put into it. You leaned back onto Joel's shoulder with a sigh as you listened to Maria tell an older couple how Tommy spilled red wine on the carpet because his hands were shaking so badly.

"You did good, sweetheart," Joel murmured in your ear. "This was real nice."

"Thanks," you said, turning your face upwards to give him a sweet smile. Fuck, he was so handsome. "Everyone pitched in, though. Wasn't just me."

"Yeah, but you organized it all, and that's a lot of work. You made 'em very happy," he said, nodding in the direction of his brother and his bride to be.

You smiled again and took another sip of your drink. He put his own glass down on the table in favor of putting his hand on your knee and giving you a gentle squeeze. You cocked an eyebrow at him and leaned in closer as his eyes briefly drifted down, trying to get a peek at your cleavage.

"What are you up to, Mr. Miller?" you asked quietly, your gaze flicking to his hand on your knee, which was sneakily making its way further up your leg. He shrugged and gave you a sly smirk.

"Just enjoyin' the view," he replied.

The couple Maria was talking to finally walked away, and she directed her attention back to you.

"Now that I think we finally have more than five minutes, we wanted to ask you both something," Maria said, her eyes sparkling as she looked over at Tommy.

"Will you be our best man and maid of honor?" Tommy asked with a warm smile.

"Oh my god, of course!" you exclaimed, jumping up from Joel's grasp to give Maria a tight hug.

"We'd love to," Joel confirmed, standing and giving his brother a firm handshake before you shoved him out of the way to give Tommy a hug. Joel gave Maria a kiss on the cheek and you settled back in your chair, scooting closer to Maria to hear the plans she had already come up with for the ceremony.

Joel clinked his glass of whiskey against Tommy's with a nod before they each took a sip and sat back to watch you and Maria talking animatedly about how she wants her hair to look for the big day.

"So," Tommy began with a knowing look on his face. Joel curtly shook his head to stop Tommy, but he knew you weren't listening.

"I don't know yet," was all Joel said, without Tommy having to finish his thought. "Didn't want to steal your thunder, and all that."

"Bullshit, you're just nervous," Tommy said with a chuckle.

"Ain't no rush. When it's right, I'll ask," he replied with a shrug.

"Well, you know her better than anyone," Tommy conceded.

"Who?" you asked, turning your attention towards the brothers.

"Velvet, the mare Joel's been usin' on patrol lately. She's got a stubborn streak," Tommy said, the lie rolling off his tongue with ease.

"Hm. I can see why they get along so well, then," you said with a wink, pulling a laugh from Tommy and Maria. Joel rolled his eyes at your joke, giving you half a smirk. He not-so-secretly loved it when you teased him.

"You should talk," he said, pinching your arm.

"Hey, Joel. Before I forget. I gotta ask you to come out with me in a few weeks. It's about that new settlement we made contact with a month ago, they wanna meet up and see about trades," Tommy said. "Should only take few days."

You hated when Joel had to leave overnight. You tried to keep your disappointment hidden, but Joel knew you too well. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tugging you into him and fiddling with the strap of your dress as he spoke to Tommy.

"You got it," Joel replied with a nod. "Someone's gotta make sure you live long enough to make it down the aisle."

Yet another group of people came over to chat with Tommy and Maria, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carrie and a few other women cleaning up, so you got up with a sigh to join them. As you were about to walk away, Joel stood up and snagged your hand, turning you around to face him.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't like it when I'm gone too long," he said softly, running his knuckle down your cheek.

"It's okay. I'll just have to entertain myself for a few days," you said dramatically. "But I have no idea what I'll do in that big bed all by myself," you added quietly with a pout. You ran your palms up his chest and reached up to adjust the collar on his button down before looking up to meet his darkened gaze. "Do you have any ideas, Joel?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes.

The grip he had on you tightened and he opened his mouth to reply when Julia interrupted, calling your name from a few tables away.

"Do you have any extra Tupperware?" she had asked, and you wiggled out of Joel's grasp before replying.

"Sure do, I'll meet you guys inside and help pack up all the food," you said, walking over to pick up any empty plates you could manage before following her into your kitchen, his eyes glued to the way you floated around the party until he lost sight of you.

As the night wore on, many of the older couples and families with young children filtered home, leaving about thirty or so people behind closer to midnight. You wondered how the town was going to function tomorrow, collectively hungover, as you gratefully accepted another glass of wine from Carrie and plopped on your couch. The men all ended up congregating outside on the porch or backyard, whereas the women all elected to stay inside.

You were listening to one of the girls drone on about a terrible date she had with one of the newer guys in town when the screen door whipped open loudly, followed by boisterous laughter from what sounded like the rest of the men, likely bored with being outside alone.

"Ladies!" Tommy called out drunkenly, arms spread wide with a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. His hip nudged one of your kitchen chairs, the legs scraping on the floor as he made his way over to Maria.

"Oh, great," Maria said, rolling her eyes, but you could see the corners of her mouth turning up into a smirk as Tommy leaned over behind the couch to wrap his arms around her.

Everyone else followed him inside, and suddenly your quiet little sanctuary was filled with loud laughter and shouting as a few men in your kitchen had a very lively argument over sports teams that no longer existed, while others wandered around the living room to try their luck with some of the women.

You stood from the couch, the conversation you all were having earlier effectively over, as you pushed through the bodies of people suddenly filling your home. As you made your way to the bathroom, your eyes darted around, trying to find Joel, but you couldn't see or hear him anywhere.

With a sigh, you snuck into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, enjoying the quiet for a moment. You checked your reflection in the mirror when you were done using the bathroom, smoothing down your hair but the humidity from the day made it difficult, before unlocking the door.

You stumbled back when the door pushed open from the other side, the yelling, and now, music, filling the small room briefly before the door quickly closed again.

Joel's lips were on yours before you could blink, the heady taste of whiskey on his tongue as he sloppily licked into your mouth. His hands greedily reached down to squeeze your ass, bunching your dress up a bit in the process.

"Joel!" you managed to gasp before his mouth devoured yours again, pushing you back against the sink while your fingers gripped his shirt for balance.

"Fuck, need ya so bad 'n all these people won't fuckin' leave," he slurred, his lips nipping at your jaw. Heat bloomed between your legs at the hungry way he grabbed and kissed you, like he couldn't stop himself.

"You're drunk," you said breathily, tipping your head back.

"So are you," he mumbled, and you couldn't stop the lazy smirk that spread across your face. He had you there.

His hands slid down to lift up the back of your dress, his palms caressing the exposed skin of your ass and your lacy underwear before he squeezed, making you squeak.

"We have guests, Joel," you said as his lips made their way down your neck, his tongue leaving soft licks as he went. He pulled you close, pressing his hips against you so you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your stomach.

"D'ya want me to stop?" he asked, pulling his face back a moment to search your eyes. You stared up at him, panting slightly as you thought about it. His eyes were dark with lust, lips and cheeks flush and hair tousled as he waited for your answer. You shook your head.

"We need to be fast," you whispered, and he pounced on you immediately. His fingers wrapped around your jaw, holding your mouth open so he could plunge his tongue inside, swirling and flicking around yours with a groan.

"Turn 'round," he ordered gruffly while also spinning your body around to face the mirror. You watched his reflection with bated breath as he hiked your dress up and hooked your panties to the side. His ankle nudged yours so you would spread your legs wider, and you could feel the dampness at your core from the excitement. He dipped a finger along your folds while his other hand worked on his belt and jeans, inhaling sharply when he realized how wet you were already. His eyes flicked up to find yours in the mirror and he grinned, stroking his cock.

"Are you going to tease me or fuck me?" you asked, pushing your hips back against him.

"Think you did enough teasin' tonight for the two of us," he said, lining himself up before grabbing your hip. "Walkin' 'round in this dress, with these legs 'n this ass," he let his hand slide from your hip to squeeze your ass again as if to emphasize his point. "Guess that just leaves one thing."

He slammed into you hard with a grunt, knocking the air from your lungs as he buried himself inside you with one quick thrust. You bit down on your lower lip to keep from crying out, only a small whimper escaping while you focused on the delicious sting as you adjusted around him.

"Fuck, that's good," he gasped, looking down where you were connected so he could watch his cock as he shallowly thrusted in and out, giving you a few minutes to acclimate. Your head fell forward between your shoulders with a soft moan, gripping the edge of the sink as he pushed inside you over and over, the room filling with small gasps and groans from you both.

"Right there," you mumbled when he readjusted and found the angle that made you see stars. "Fuck, Joel, don't stop," you said with a whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the top of your head began to bump against the mirror with each snap of his hips.

His hand left your hip and came up to wrap around your hair. He gave it a firm tug and tipped your head back, your eyes flying open in surprise as you met his gaze in the mirror.

"Watch," he ordered, his jaw clenched as he continued to slam into you. "Watch how good you take me, want you to see what I get to see every time I fuck this perfect pussy," he muttered in your ear. You groaned, the filth pouring from his mouth driving you wild, the muscles in your stomach tensing as your orgasm built up.

He nibbled at your earlobe as he stared at you in the mirror, his thrusts coming so fast that your hip bones felt bruised already, but you pushed through it, relishing the idea of having a physical reminder of this moment for the next few days.

"See how lucky I am?" he continued while his other hand traveled down to rub messy circles over your clit, making your jaw fall open. "Look at you, look how wrecked you get from this cock." He wasn't wrong. Your eyes were glassy, either from the alcohol or unshed tears, you weren't sure. Your cheeks were flushed and lips swollen, hair an absolute mess now that Joel's fingers were tangled in it.

"Joel," you whimpered as you felt yourself clenching around him, right on the edge of release.

"I'm right here, I got you, c'mon, give it to me," he said with a grunt, his own climax quickly approaching. You slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle your low, drawn out moan as you came, your arousal soaking his cock and your head falling back on his shoulder.

"That's it, I got you," he whispered in your ear, your orgasm still rippling through you. "Fuck, so pretty when you come," he panted, his hips stuttering before he wrapped his arms around you, tightly holding you against his chest. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he came with a loud groan, your body hardly doing anything to muffle the sound.

With the back of your head still resting on his shoulder, your eyes slid shut, enjoying the afterglow for a few moments while his body shuddered behind you and his grip loosened.

Joel kept his hands on your arms to steady you as he pulled out, a curse leaving his lips in the process. He tucked himself back into his jeans with one hand, then met your eyes in the mirror.

"Can ya stand?" he asked you softly. You nodded and took a deep breath, unrolling some toilet paper to clean up the mess between your legs before fixing your underwear and dress.

You straightened up and looked at him leaning against the bathroom wall, watching you with a smug look on his face.

"You're an animal, you know that?" you said, pressing yourself against him with your chin resting on his chest and your arms around his waist.

"You love it," he replied before cupping your face in his hands and giving you a firm kiss.

The sound of a glass bottle breaking and a collective roar of taunts erupted from your kitchen, pulling you both out of your daze.

"Goddamnit, Tommy," Joel muttered, pushing himself off the wall to open the door. You heard him jokingly berating his brother as you quickly ran your fingers through your hair, making yourself look less fucked before rejoining the festivities.

The sun beamed through your curtains, brightness flashing across your eyelids, contributing more to the pounding already in your head. You buried your face into your pillow, willing the sun or the pain to cease before you were forced to get up for the day. Joel had already left early that morning for patrol, something you thought was cruel considering he was about to leave for the trip Tommy mentioned a few weeks ago during the party the very next day.

With a groan, you pushed yourself up, squinting to minimize the impact from the sun as you stumbled into the bathroom in search of something to numb the pain. Popping two white pills into your mouth, you leaned over the sink to drink from the faucet, swallowing the medicine before splashing your face with cold water, desperate to do anything that might help.

It was your day off from work, but you had promised Maria you would help her with inventory before the men made their trip, so you shoved on your jeans and a clean shirt and made your way downstairs, elated to find Joel had left the coffee machine on for you. You poured the remaining liquid into a thermos so you could take it on the go, hoping the caffeine combined with the Tylenol would diminish the throbbing between your eyes.

By the time you made it to the warehouse, your head seemed to be slightly better, although the ache was still persistent. You must not have been hiding your pain very well because when Maria saw you, she frowned.

"What happened to you?"

"No idea, I woke up with the worst migraine," you said with a groan and flopped down on a nearby chair.

"You trying to get out of helping me?" she teased, and you smirked.

"Me? Never," you replied, and took a tentative sip of coffee, your stomach immediately churning. With a grimace, you set down your drink and leaned forward to rub your temples.

"Did you drink last night?" Maria asked, setting down her clipboard. You shook your head.

"No. Maybe I'm coming down with something," you said with a sigh. "It'll pass. I just need a distraction. Where should I start?"

"How about toiletries? I already did medicine yesterday, and I'm working on dry goods right now," she said, nodding to the other side of the aisle. You stood and picked up the clipboard and pen she left for you and got to work counting shampoo bottles and tubes of toothpaste.

"So, what are you thinking for a dress?" you asked her over your shoulder. "There's that strip mall a few miles out, last I heard it was all clear. There was a little boutique there."

"I haven't even thought about it yet, but that's a good idea. Maybe we can sneak away while the boys are gone and check it out," she said with a grin.

"What's the deal with this new settlement, anyway? Joel said they have some weird name, I can't remember what he called them," you said, cursing under your breath when you saw the amount of toothbrushes you had to count.

"Fireflies," Maria responded. "Yeah, weird name. The way Tommy described them sounded like they were kind of intense, but they have a settlement in an old hospital a few cities away and they supposedly have tons of medicine we could use. Bill's running way too low on antibiotics."

"What was intense about them?" you asked, giving her your full attention now. You didn't like the idea of Joel walking into a potentially hostile situation.

"I guess they are trying to lead some revolution against FEDRA in the QZs. They're looking for weapons and stuff like that to trade," she explained.

"Well, hopefully they need toothbrushes because we have more than enough," you muttered, turning back to your task. "Is it safe?"

"Is anything safe anymore?" Maria replied with a shrug. "He wouldn't risk it if he thought they would get jumped, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah, I guess so," you said, getting back to work. As the morning wore on, you listened to Maria talk about the council she was trying to form to lead the town. She had been the leader of Jackson since you joined, and her intention was always to share the duties with others. The town grew so fast and she had a hard enough time keeping up with everything that needed to be done, so the formation of a town council took a backseat the past few years.

"Wanna take a break and eat something?" Maria asked after a few hours. You nodded. Your head was finally beginning to feel better and the thought of food perked you up a bit.

"Did you want to go to the mess hall or just grab something off the shelf here?" she asked, picking up a box of granola bars and examining the label before putting it back on the shelf.

"Let's just stay here, we're on a roll," you told her, putting your clipboard on the shelf to join her at the dry goods section, examining your choices. You decided on a protein bar and some dried fruit, but the moment you bit into the bar, you felt your stomach roll. You paused mid chew, trying to push through the nausea and swallow, but you couldn't do it. Glancing around the room quickly, you spotted a garbage can in the corner and raced over, spitting out your food with a dry heave as you clutched the basket, bracing yourself for another wave of nausea.

"Whoa!" Maria exclaimed, hurrying over to you. You hovered over the garbage, your breath coming in shaky gasps and tears pricking your eyes as you dry heaved again. Maria rubbed comforting circles on your back and scooped your hair out of the way as you caught your breath, the nausea fading to the point where you felt confident enough to sit back against the wall, squeezing your eyes shut.

"You alright?" Maria asked you after a minute, and you weakly nodded your head. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know, I must be getting sick," you said, opening your eyes to accept the bottle of water she handed you. "I've been feeling really run down lately, I probably got the flu."

"In the middle of summer?" she asked you with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged and took a small sip of water.

"Maybe I should go home, I don't want to get you sick," you said, pushing yourself up the wall to stand.

"Sure, go get some rest," Maria said, straightening up. "You just better not be pregnant before me," she added teasingly.

"I'm not pregnant, I just had my period," you said with a shake of your head.

"When?"

You paused for a moment as you thought about it, then your eyes went wide. Maria noticed, her eyes widening, too.

"Oh, my god," you whispered, slumping back down against the wall. "I think I'm late."

"How late?" Maria asked, joining you back on the floor.

"Maybe a week? That's not that bad, though, right?"

"No, it's not that late..." she agreed, trailing off. "Is that normal for you?"

"Not really," you said. "But maybe it's from stress. I've been worried about Joel going on this trip... oh shit, what am I going to tell Joel?" You pushed the heels of your hands roughly into your eyes with a groan.

"Why don't we find you a test first before you worry about that," Maria said, looking around at the shelves. "Did you find any pregnancy tests in the toiletries?"

"No, I think Kate used the last of them, and it's not like it's a high priority item for the guys on patrol," you said, jumping up to nervously pace around the room. "Oh fuck, what am I going to do?!"

Your breathing was getting shallower the more your anxiety flared up. A baby was not something you were sure you ever wanted, let alone right now. Coupled with the insecurities you had been feeling ever since Maria and Tommy got engaged, the timing couldn't have been worse. It wasn't too long ago you were barely able to keep yourself alive and safe, how could you possibly expect to care for a helpless infant? You were fortunate to have found Jackson and the security that brought with it, but if the wrong people found your town, who knows what would happen.

"Why don't I walk you home," Maria said, feeling useless. "You should rest... either way."

The walk home was quick. Luckily, no one had stopped either of you to chat. Maria ushered you inside, sitting you down on the couch before bringing you a glass of water and some crackers from your pantry.

"Let me talk to Tommy when he gets home. I'll see if he can get some tests-" she held her hands up when you whipped your head around to look at her, eyes widened in fear. "I'll say it's for me, I won't mention you, I promise. I'll say I want them on hand for when we start trying, or something."

"If I don't have my period by the time they get back from their trip, I think I'll have my answer, anyway," you said sullenly, burying your face in your hands.

Maria chewed her lip and nodded, knowing you were probably right. She resumed rubbing circles on your back as you leaned forward with your head between your knees, your head clouded with fear.

"I have to tell Joel," you whispered, a tear trickling down your cheek. "He'll know something's wrong, I-I can't keep this from him."

"Tommy can do the trip without Joel, this is more important," said Maria.

"Yeah," you mumbled, leaning back and staring at your hands twisted together in your lap. How could you be so stupid?

"Do you think you'll be okay, or do you want me to stay?" she asked you, worry written all over her face. You shook your head and offered her a weak smile.

"I'll be fine, I know you have a lot to do and I just bailed on you," you said, patting her arm. She stood up, looking down at you, putting a hand on your shoulder before leaving.

"You know, you really went too far to get out of work this time," she joked, earning a huff of laughter from you. "But listen. It'll be okay, no matter what happens. We will all help you guys out, if... you know. You won't be in this alone." She gave you a reassuring squeeze, and you smiled, putting your hand warmly over the top of hers.

"Thanks, Maria," you whispered. She nodded before dropping her hand, and you watched her walk out the front door, leaving you all alone, wondering how exactly you were going to tell Joel.

You remained frozen to the couch the rest of the afternoon, nibbling on crackers and your mind going a mile a minute, dreading the moment Joel would walk through the front door. Maybe it's a false alarm. Maybe you miscounted the days. You wondered if you should even tell him until you were sure, but you knew he would see right through you the second he got home.

Your heart jumped in your throat when you finally heard the front door swing open, squeezing your eyes shut to focus on your breathing as you heard him take off his boots and say your name.

"In here," you called out, forcing your eyes open and plastering a weak smile on your face as you stood to greet him.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said when he saw you, pulling you into his arms and planting a kiss on the top of your head.

"How was patrol?" you asked, stepping away and averting your gaze out the window.

"Long. I could kill Tommy for puttin' me on the schedule before this trip," he said, reaching down to the coffee table to grab your sleeve of abandoned crackers and tossing one in his mouth. "You and Maria wrap up early?" he asked with his mouth full. He turned to head towards the kitchen for a glass, filling it up at the sink as you remained planted in the living room, your fingers nervously fidgeting at your sides.

"Yeah," you said quietly. "Maria finished up without me."

He glanced over at you as he drank his water in one gulp, then wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand before sauntering back over.

"Good. Was thinkin' we can stay in tonight," he said as he wrapped his arms around you. "Gonna miss you," he added suggestively, his lips brushing against your temple before craning his neck lower to latch his mouth onto yours. He paused, sensing your tension for the first time, and drew back to examine you closer.

"What's wrong?" he asked, holding you at an arms length by your shoulders. You brought your hands up to cover his and took a shaky breath.

"I think you should sit down," you began. All the air rushed out of his lungs, panic squeezing his throat as his grip on your shoulders tightened.

"Why?" he asked as he fell back onto the sofa. His eyes never left yours as he waited, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. You sat down next to him and stared down at your hands, thinking about how to say it before deciding on just blurting it out.

"I'm late," you said, still avoiding his stare. There was a long pause before he replied.

"Late for what?" he asked, sounding confused. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a breath.

"My period, Joel," you said softly. You felt his body tense next to you, but you kept your eyes shut. "I... I don't know for sure, I couldn't find a test at the warehouse, but I thought you should know."

You could hear him breathing deeply next to you as he absorbed your words, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him as you continued to explain.

"I haven't been feeling very well lately, I thought I was getting sick but then I realized... I don't know, it might be nothing," you rambled, your voice jumping up an octave as tears filled your closed eyes. "But it might be something, too, and I feel so fucking stupid and scared-"

"Hey," he said softly, finally finding his voice as he put a hand on your knee. "C'mon, look at me," he urged, hooking a finger under your chin and turning your face towards him.

You opened your eyes, two tears falling in the process as you reluctantly looked at him. His gaze softened as he stared at you, wiping away your tears.

"We've always been careful, I don't..." he trailed off as he thought about it before the realization dawned on him. "The party," he said, his voice heavy as his hands dropped from your face and he hung his head. "Fuck."

"Yeah," you said softly, letting your eyes fall back to your lap. You leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees so you could bury your face in your hands. "I don't know what to do, Joel. I can't do this," you mumbled, trying to fight back the tears.

He sighed and leaned back into the couch, scratching his beard thoughtfully for a second.

"Well, it's a little ahead of schedule, but if you are, we'll handle it like we do everythin' else," he replied. Now that the shock was wearing off, he was starting to come around to the idea, flashes of piggyback rides and first steps playing in his mind.

"'Ahead of schedule'?" you repeated sharply, dropping your hands to frown at him.

"Yeah. I mean, I figured one day after we got married-"

"Wait, what?" you asked, your voice rising as you stood up from the couch. "We never discussed any of this, Joel."

His brow furrowed, standing up as well and looking at you with confusion.

"Then let's discuss it now," he said, watching as you paced around the room.

You stopped pacing and stood across from him, eyeing him carefully as you crossed your arms.

"Do you really think it's responsible to bring a child into this world?" you asked him, your voice barely a whisper. He stared at you, his jaw ticking to the side as he thought about his answer.

"Probably not. But I don't think it's right to keep ourselves from bein' happy, either," he said with a shrug. "Gotta keep livin' our lives."

You searched his eyes for a moment as the weight of his words hit you. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself for your next question.

"So, what you're saying is getting married and having kids would make you happy?"

"'Course it would," he replied easily without a second thought. He frowned when he noticed the anguish flit across your face, and suddenly he realized there was a bigger problem. He swallowed roughly. "But it sounds like it wouldn't make you happy."

Tears welled up in your eyes. You tore your gaze away, unable to handle the hurt that was so clearly evident on his face.

"I'm happy the way things are," you said, your voice small. "I don't think I'm ready for... all that."

He nodded, clenching his jaw as he tried to keep the emotion from his voice.

"But one day?" he managed to ask, his throat suddenly feeling tight, worried about the answer.

"I-," you began to respond, then faltered, trying to find the right words. "I don't know, Joel," you finally said, your eyes glued to the floor as shame flooded your body.

He sniffed and put his hands on his hips, turning away from you to try to hide his pain, but it was palpable. The room was filled with tension and unspoken words. You couldn't believe you were breaking his heart like this. Closing your eyes, you wished more than anything you felt normal, that you wanted what he wanted, but you couldn't force it. You took a shaky breath before speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Joel. You don't deserve this, I'm fucked up," you whispered. "If those are things that would make you happy, you shouldn't have to sacrifice-"

"Don't you dare finish that fuckin' sentence," he said, and although his back was to you, you could tell his teeth were clenched as he spoke. You clamped your mouth shut, tears silently spilling down your cheeks.

"Joel-" you tried again, but he cut you off, whipping around to face you, his eyes glassy and his brow furrowed.

"You might be pregnant with my kid and this is how you tell me how you really feel?" he spat, his harshness making you recoil.

"I love you," you sobbed, wrapping your arms around yourself, tears flowing freely now.

"Not enough to wanna marry me, though," he said, and you weren't sure what hurt more: the words or the sadness that laced his voice.

"That's not fair," you whispered, tucking your chin into your chest.

"You're right. None of this is fair," he said, turning on his heel and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" you asked, taking a few steps forward so you could watch him walk down the hall.

"Out," he said curtly, and you winced. He paused with his hand on the door and dropped his head forward with a sigh. "I gotta think," he added softly without turning to look at you, then disappeared through the door, leaving you to collapse on the ground all alone in a hell of your own making.

You curled up on the couch that night waiting for him to come home, but fell asleep and didn't hear the door open or his feet on the stairs. You didn't wake until you heard the shower early the next morning. Sitting up from the couch, you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes when you felt the familiar, telltale cramping in your stomach. After going to the bathroom, you confirmed your suspicions.

You sat at the kitchen table until Joel came down the stairs, trying to be quiet until he realized you were already awake and waiting for him. He paused when he saw you at the table, but quickly averted his gaze to the cupboard to find his thermos.

"I'm not pregnant," you said quietly. His shoulders tensed for a moment, then lifted the coffee pot, pouring it into the tumbler before turning around to face you.

"You must be relieved," he said coldly. Your lower lip trembled and you stood up from the table to go to him, but he stepped away, creating more distance.

"I'll be back in a few days," he said, casting you a somber glance before turning towards the door.

You stood there, your hands tangling together in front of you, unsure what to do or say to fix this pain you caused. He stopped in front of the door, about to leave, but turned back one more time to look at you.

"Just tell me right now if you don't want me," he said, the expression on his face breaking your heart.

"I want you," you said immediately, and you swore you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes at how fast you responded. "I love you, Joel. So much. And I'm so sorry."

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes searching your puffy, tear stained face before giving you a firm nod, then turned to leave, closing the door softly behind him.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #look what we've become joel miller fic

[kquil]

SIRIUS BLACK | 09:19 ⏤A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

SUM. : after sirius escapes azkaban he is determined to get to hogwarts but as exhaustion kicks in, he is rescued and freed, experiencing a little piece of heaven through you and your daughter...

G. : post azkaban sirius ; single mother reader au ; fluff ; sirius needs some love ; padfoot gets cuddles and kisses ; your daughter is adorable

LENGTH : 1.9k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Sirius needed a break but he knew he needed to keep going, twelve years of being unjustly locked away in the worse prison that ever existed had helped him build up a lifetime’s worth of vengeance but the adrenaline of escaping Azkaban in his animagus form was gradually dissipating and the tremor in his limbs was becoming all too present to be ignored any longer.   

Finally succumbing to his exhaustion, Sirius fell against an aged fountain decorating the centre of a small village not too far from Hogwarts just as small droplets of rain pelted down lightly before picking up to a shower. Sirius quickly looked around before dashing forth to take shelter under the window sill of a local bakery. It wasn’t adequate but it’ll do. He’ll rest tonight and continue his journey to Hogwarts again in the morning. 

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that the rain isn’t there for a moment and finally succumb to some sleep. The time is hard to tell from the clouds that covered most of the sky but if he had to guess, it was turning into the late afternoon so if he managed to sleep a few hours, he could still make it to Hogwarts on time. It’s been a long journey and was made longer by the people that disregarded and mistreated his animagus form, taking him for a stray. It wasn’t as bad as the treatment he received in Azkaban but the unwanted stares, abusive words and occasional kick to his side reminded him that despite escaping the prison, he was still not a free man - that was his worst torment. 

Just as Sirius begins to sink into sleep, he suddenly hears an adorable, childish voice call out, “Puppy!” opening his eyes, his head and ears perk towards a cute little girl in a pair of yellow wellies and a matching yellow raincoat running up to him with a smile. Her head was hooded but the small strands of baby hairs on her forehead clung to her face from the rain and a toothy, chubby-cheeked grin was on her face. She grins at him happily, making his head tilt in confusion - what an odd creature, cute, innocent and without an ounce of hatred in her little body, she’s a breath of fresh air. Once she had made it a few steps away from him, she waved a small hand in greeting. 

Sirius finds her adorable and nods back calmly, rising up to a sitting position, the aches of his earlier exhaustion suddenly dissipating from his bones. His response makes her burst into a fit of giggles.

“Hi puppy!” she greets more formally but also with even more excitement than her earlier acknowledgement of him. She steps forward and outstretches a hand to pet him, she’s clearly excited but her pets were gentle and welcome. It’s been a long time since Sirius had been greeted with such kindness and affection, he quite enjoys the treatment. Looking like a stray didn’t help his predicament at all as he was largely dismissed by many people but this little girl in front of him was pure light, he hopes she grows up with the same light that never dwindles but only brightens. He hopes Harry is like her, “Cute puppy! Good puppy!” She praises highly, continuing her pets as Sirius continues to enjoy the affection, touch-starved and always an attention seeker, he was given a little piece of heaven in that moment.

“Ellie!” you call out in relief spotting her in front of a large black dog and quickly making your way over, your umbrella gripped tightly in your hand. Whilst there was an original spike of fear in your heart at seeing the imposing creature, when you saw how calm and gentle he was being with her, your shoulders relaxed and a softness eased into your expression, “Honey, don’t go running off like that, okay? It’s dangerous and you made me really worried,”  

Sirius had a lot of questions. Were you her older sister? Her babysitter? You were gorgeous. He attributes the thought to not having seen anything beautiful in so long, even when running through the streets to Hogwarts a majority of women and men dismissed him which only soured their image in his eyes.   

“Sorry mummy,” there was his answer. You were the little girl's mother. It was a shocking revelation but it didn’t take away from your beauty, “but look at the puppy!” the little girl - Ellie - squeals happily and Sirius cracks a smile, her merriment was contagious. Was that the result of a truly loving mother, he wonders. 

You smile lovingly at your daughter, her love for animals a characteristic you both shared, “he’s quite the handsome fella, isn’t he?” with his fur in the way, Sirius blushed freely from your compliment. A mangy mutt like him? From a stunning woman like you? 

“He’s my friend now!” Ellie smiles and giggles when Sirius noses her cheek affectionately. It’s been too long since he was last considered a friend and to be the friend of this sweet girl was an honour. She’s an adorable girl that makes his heart sing from the vast extent of her wholesomeness. She is definitely the product of love in its purest form. How lucky your husband must be to have such a beautiful wife and daughter, there was a slight pang of jealousy in Sirius’s heart, however. If the war never happened and he never went to Azkaban would he have had a family like this too?

“That’s wonderful news honey but we need to return home quickly before you catch a cold,” you pointed out, the worry furrowing your brows. 

“I want Puppy to come too…” Ellie whines looking down at her wellies and biting her lip as she clutches adorably at the hem of her raincoat. It was a cute display but Sirius highly doubts you would allow that to happen…

“You think so?” you hum in contemplation, shocking Sirius when you didn’t outright protest the idea; not everyone is open to taking in strays. What is this sudden luck and kindness he’s happened across?

“Please mummy, please!” Ellie pleads with her biggest puppy eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. 

“He does seem like a good boy…” you ponder aloud as Sirius’s heart races with hope, “alright, he can come home with us,”

“Yay! Puppy! Come home with us!” Sirius is pulled into a hug around the neck from Ellie’s little arms and savours the short moment happily. This type of warmth is more pleasant than from any crackling fire; he wants to appreciate the feeling as much as possible. 

With Ellie at his side and you on his other, the two of you lead him to your home. For tonight, Sirius will be greedy and selfish. He can allow himself this much after twelve years of torture. It’s been far too long since he last had a warm and welcoming place to stay.  

Once home, you already knew you had a lot on your plate, especially with your new guest. Your first order of business was getting you and Ellie dry but a simple spell could fix that. Your new furry friend needed a more thorough washing, however. In your occupied state, you missed the shocked, wide-eyed stare Sirius gave your wand but he quickly blinked his shock away when you led him to the bath. Thankfully, Ellie was up for washing her new friend clean. It took a little longer as you wanted to give him a thorough wash but that was anticipated, at least the activity helped you work up an appetite. 

Rid of his annoying fleas as well as all the mud and dirt his fur had accumulated, Sirius guiltlessly followed Ellie around your cosy home while you made a start on dinner. It was comforting to know that you were a witch too but as Ellie gave him the grand tour of each room, especially hers, Sirius came to notice the absence of a very important male figure in the home. Dinner was soon served however, and Sirius hadn’t had the chance to ponder on the issue too long.

“Mummy’s cooking is the best, right Puppy?” Ellie announced mid bite, her cheeks swelled up like a greedy chipmunk as she looked down at Sirius, who barked in return. There was no dog food in the house so you just gave him sausages, mash and vegetables too. It was heavenly finally being able to have a nice warm meal.  

Dinner was over sooner than Sirius expected, he had quite the appetite so he finished his food quickly. Noticing this, Ellie saved him one of her sausages and fed it to him herself. 

“You’re such a sweet girl, Ellie,” you praised your daughter for her kindness as Sirius licked her face in thanks. She really was a sweet girl. 

Soon enough, Sirius found himself curled up under a warm blanket with Ellie who insisted on cuddling him by the fireplace. While Ellie petted and kissed his head under the blanket they shared together, you sat on the couch embroidering a handkerchief whilst telling a whimsical story about fairies, trolls and an adventurous knight, smiling as Ellie’s yawns and sleepy mutterings increased by the minute. Sirius noticed it too and anticipated she would be falling asleep soon, confessing that he was also on the way to a peaceful night’s rest. 

As your story came to an end, Ellie knew you were soon going to lead her to bed and tried to prolong the night as best as she could with a distraction, “Mummy, give Puppy kisses too,” 

You knew exactly what your daughter's ulterior motives were but complied with her request anyway, “Alright dear,” you set aside your embroidery and came to kneel down beside the two. Sirius’ heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he halted his breathing as he watched you lean in and pepper him with kiss after kiss after kiss, just like your daughter. Heavenly. Sirius was so happy he didn’t protest returning to your home because he had never felt so at peace. For a blissful moment, he wasn’t Sirius the falsely accused murderer of his best friend, he was just Puppy. The new identity was freeing and Sirius wished he could live like this forever. 

Cuddling and kissing him made Sirius blush furiously under his fur as he practically melted into your lap loving the attention and affection. 

“Maybe we should keep him,” you voiced, smiling fondly as Sirius picked his head up from your lap, “we need a man around the house,” Sirius felt both equal amounts of happiness and sadness all at once. As much as he has grown to love you both in the short time you’ve spent together, he knows he can’t stay longer than tonight; Harry is waiting for him and Peter needs to be exposed for his evil deeds. Sirius is only allowing himself tonight to be selfish and that was it. He can’t risk endangering the two of you either; he needs to leave as soon as possible. 

“Yes yes yes! Puppy stays!” Ellie cheers, her sleepiness evident in that her hurrahs were much more demure than they were earlier that day. 

“We’ll have to name him though, we can’t call him puppy forever, dear,”

Ellie ponders to herself with the cutest expression, “Black!- No! Noir! That means black in french mummy,” she finalises. 

“I see I see, that seems like a fitting name for our handsome friend,” you affectionately stroke Sirius’s head as he chuckles to himself, how ironic this whole situation was. 

A/N: im a sucker for domestic, single parent au's and i just want to comfort my comfort characters so here you go!

NAVI.

#☆ : timestamp #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #marauders #marauders fic

[lillaluna]

in this world and that world

Pairing: Diluc, Childe, Ayato, Wriothesley x f!Reader

Summary: You're absolutely in love with your beautiful character from the game Genshin Impact and at one point, you meet him in your reality.

DILUC

You've had an absolutely lousy day, preceded by the same morning and preceded by the same evening. It's been like this for a month now.

Going home after work, you decided that it would not be a bad idea to buy yourself a bottle of wine, especially today was Friday. Going to the shop, you went to your favourite rack and took that bottle of wine, which you had taken almost every Friday until today.

"I'd better not take it, it's not the best vintage and…"

"I'll probably sort out my own drinking, mister!" - you were just starting to wind up, like a flame that had been inadvertently splashed with fuel. Turning round to the guy who'd made the remark you were preparing to unleash all your anger on him, but when you met his scarlet eyes you froze. Then somewhere in the back of your mind you heard the sound of breaking glass. "Diluс," you squeaked.

The guy ignoring your daze fussed around you, holding out his hand for you to safely step over the shards from the broken bottle. He kept saying that one of the staff would come and clean it up, when you automatically put your hand into Diluс's open palm, and as soon as your fingers touched you passed out.

AYATO

After waiting at the bus stop for almost an hour, you decided there was nothing more to catch there and headed home on foot. It wasn't a long walk, but you were hampered by a downpour, the first of the rainy season. Scolding yourself for forgetting your umbrella at home and pressing your head into your shoulders as if it could save you from the large drops of rain, you waited for the traffic light to turn green, standing in front of the pedestrian crossing.

And at some point, the rain stopped. No, not everywhere. The drops stopped falling on the top of your head, pouring under your clothes. Without taking your eyes off the ground you turned your head a little and saw a man's light-coloured shoes, followed by white trousers. As you looked up, you noticed a blue shirt. And a white jacket that was thrown over the man's broad shoulders.

This image already reminded you vaguely of someone, and looking up, you met the blue eyes of the guy across from you.

You must have looked like a madwoman, standing like that, under the umbrella the man held over you, while you stared at him and literally forced yourself to breathe.

"Ayato…", you whispered quietly, afraid that the magic was about to dissipate or that you'd wake up in bed sweating, but the guy across from you just smiled sweetly.

"I thought we knew each other. I can't figure out where I've seen you before".

CHILDE

Evening. Your room in the student dormitory, where you've been trying to memorise the answers to the tests for one of the most important exams of your life for the past hour. On the one hand you're let down by your absent-mindedness and lack of concentration, and on the other… On the other hand by the loud music that's blaring, as it seems to you, to the whole neighbourhood.

Unable to stand these beautiful tunes, you decide to go and deal with the troublemaker. Of course, you hope to just ask him/her to turn it down, but you don't completely dismiss the idea that you might have to fight.

You had to knock long and hard, pulling the doorknob a few times before the music stopped and you finally heard footsteps outside the door. Preparing to utter an angry tirade, you took more air into your lungs, and as soon as the door opened you let the air out like a balloon.

Your first thought was that you'd fallen asleep. Yeah you must have fallen asleep playing on your phone, and that's why in your dream you now have Childe standing in front of you and smiling cheekily, awkwardly scratching himself on the back of his head.

"I guess I did it too loud," the guy says, but you just let it pass and looking at him full in your mind's eye, you unceremoniously reach out and poke your finger right into his chest to make sure he's real.

WRIOTHESLEY

Kicking the crap out of the punching bag at the gym became your favourite method of stress relief. Channelling all the negative emotions, you excitedly sent powerful, by your standards, punches into the sports equipment hanging in front of you.

You were not a super athletic girl, but rather the opposite, more of a slim and too thin. And very uncoordinated…

The "head with ears", as you called the hairstyle of your favourite character from your favourite game, captured your attention immediately, and you completely forgot about the fact that you were about to be attacked by a freshly beaten pear.

A moment later it did, and you collapsed to the floor with a loud "oh, fuck". Dropping your gloves and rolling over onto all fours, you crawled away from the still swinging punching bag. Your head felt a little dizzy as you shook it out of your eyes. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the red sneakers, which, judging by their size, were worn on a man's feet.

"Fuck," you exhaled, and lowered your head, recognising that in a moment, you'd have to burn with shame.

Resting one hand on the floor, you pushed yourself up to squat. Slowly glancing down at your legs, your black shorts, and then your white sports shirt, you tilted your head questioningly to the side as you noticed the scars on the guy's neck in front of you.

"I can't help you if you're going to sit in that pose and stare."

You could have sworn you were ready to faint when you heard that painfully familiar voice. As you looked up sharply to the guy's face, you realised that surely the pear had hit you on the head too hard, because in front of you stood Wriothesley, the same damn Duke Meropide.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #childe x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #childe #tartaglia x reader

[bettysupremacy]

gahh im excited???!!

could i request a prompt with poly!marauders and reader at the beach? Helping each other put on sunblock (which by the way is adorable AND hot lol) after they settle down on the beach. I feel like one of the boys would try to make it all sexy or flirt or whatever but reader is super adamant about the how important sunscreen is (being sunburnt, cancer, ext.). EVEN if remus is only planning on lazing around under the shade of the umbrella with a book, reader WILL slather him in sunblock as well. Nobody is safe LMFAO

I am such a sunscreen girlie, you can't catch me outside without it on ;)

thank uu!!

-🫀

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

Bringing the boys to your childhood home was exactly what you’d imagined.

You’ve spent your time walking around the town, eating fried clams, and sipping lemonade. You’d find shade from the sun and sit with the boys, sharing the food clumsily. Remus would find a bookshop, Sirius would gravitate towards the music, and sweet James is content wherever you are. Though, he does like football night.

You’d bring sandwiches your mother made and sticky treats to eat on the sand of the beach, running into the sea and letting the waves crash over you. James is more fond of the ocean than the other boys, though they indulge you as well.

It feels nice bringing them a slice of your childhood here. Showing them where you spent your summers away from school with them, where little you scraped her knees and had her first kiss. The ice cream shop you used to sit in and the stretch of beach you’d unconsciously reserved as yours.

You sit on that stretch of beach peacefully with them now. Well, as peacefully as you can with them. You’re fussing, as Sirius puts it, over their physical wellbeing that they’re perfectly capable of protecting themselves. Whatever.

“Fuck,” Sirius gripes behind you. He’s dropped a tomato slice in the sand. You ignore him.

“You need to protect yourselves.” you ‘fuss.’ “Your skin is vulnerable.”

You’re reminiscent of your mother’s words growing up as you kneed in the sunscreen into James’ freckled back. He’s broad shouldered in front of you. Sun kissed, tan, and proud. He sucks juice out of a caprisun pouch loudly.

“If anything,” James puts in cheekily. “We need protection from you.”

"Y/N sunscreen," Remus hums, his eyes focused on his book. He lies on his stomach with his back directly under the blazing sun. You cringe, moving over to him with a warming a glob of sunblock in your hand before applying it messily over his back.

"What does that mean?"

Sirius laughs. “Cause you’re so hot.”

"Oh," you murmur, feeling warm under the sun's heat. That's the only reason.

Sirius sets aside his sandwich, leaning over Remus to kiss you. He tastes like sandwich and coke. Tomato and fresh burrata.

"It's not so much that the sun is hot," you explain as he pulls away. "It's more that your skin can't handle the ultraviolet radiation.”

“I love it when you talk sexy.” Sirius grins. Remus laughs from under you, his chest rumbling sweetly.

“You guys.” You whine.

"Stop," James murmurs lovingly, focused on undoing the parchment paper of his own sandwich. "She's flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

The waves crash behind you. They’re so loud and large this time of day, you’re surprised James is still here nursing a sandwich in small bites instead of running against the water with the board he found in your attic. You’d gone up there on the first day looking for things to busy yourselves with when he’d seen it tucked away in the corner. Remus had found scrabble and Sirius had refused to go into the ‘dust bunny room’. It was bad for his hair.

He’s is your next victim now. You crawl over to him, gripping his strong shoulders. “Getting freaky in public?” He asks.

“Protecting you from skin cancer.” You grab the bottle. “In public.”

“I’m turned on.” Sirius cheeks, peeking behind to look at you.

You laugh loud, startled. “Shut up.”

#🫀 anon #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #sirius black x y/n #Sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #james potter comfort #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #james potter imagine #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x female reader #sirius black blurb #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader

[schrodinger-swriter]

General rosie x reader?

General Rosie x Reader headcanons

Ending this batch of requests today with something for Rosie C: I love her so so much... but oddly enough I don't have many headcanons just laying around for her... Guess it's time to change that!

I hope you enjoy, Anon! C:

Oh she is so so sweet to you. Sweeter than anything, really. She treats you the very best anyone can treat their partner... she makes sure you know you're loved, and that your needs are met, as well as some extra spoiling where the overlord can afford it. However she does expect you to devote yourself to her in return. She's not going to let some free loader use her for power or for materialistic purposes. Rosie knows her worth and she's going to make sure everyone else knows too... She doesn't take to kindly to those who try to use her...

She loves taking walks in the evening with you, checking out shops in town to see what they have to offer. Clothing, food, gadgets and so on! I believe I've said this somewhere before... or perhaps from someone else's writing is where I've seen this... but she does seem like the type to lock arms with you as you both walk, under a large umbrella to shield yourself from the sun.. or rain!

She's very physically affectionate, opting to greet you with a hug or a kiss on the cheek when you finally wake up in the morning or return home. She loves holding you to her while the pair of you sleep, and she loves taking baths with you to add to more time you two spend together. This is mostly to make up for the fact she's a busy business woman as well as an overlord. She's... not typically available during the day, though she does sometimes put things on hold if her presence or assistance is needed.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin rosie x you #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #rosie imagine

[bloodycyrano]

I'm bored, here's team tadpole at the beach.

Karlach: splashing her feet in the water and looking at all the critters in the tide pools. She's probably making the most dope sandcastle you will ever see, with Clive as the ruler.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart doesn't tan. Shadowheart burns. She burns *bad*. Shadowheart is sitting under a very large umbrella, gossiping to Astarion, and religiously re-applying sunscreen every thirty minutes.

Halsin: Halsin is a bear. He's just a fluffy bear, relaxing in the sand. Perhaps he splashes about in the water a bit. Maybe he takes a moment in biped-form to whittle a duck. But he spends 99.9% of the time as a bear.- He also accidentally sat on Karlach's sandcastle, and spent the rest of the evening helping her to rebuild it even better.

Gale: Gale is trying to take a break from being camp dad, and failing miserably. He's constantly trying to remind everyone to hydrate and take some time in the shade so they don't get sun-sick, all while trying to relax and enjoy the beach himself. He ends up falling asleep in the sun, rolling over, and sunburning the left half of his body.

Wyll: Perhaps the only one who's managed to actually relax, Wyll has tried a bit of everything. Laying out in the sun, having a snack, drinking a bit of wine, and admiring the waves. Wyll, upon noticing that Karlachs sand castle got ruined, also decided to help rebuild it.

Tav/durge: Does not like the sun, was forced to come out. They're extremely overstimulated right now and have spent most of the time either in the water or digging a massive hole in the sand. Durge specifically has been making a lot of weird jokes about drowning people.

Astarion: Was the one who sent Tav/durge to dig a hole to blow off steam. Astarion has been pulling some small pranks and gossiping with Shadowheart. Most notably, the group very quickly learned not to ask Astarion to help apply sunscreen to their backs, because it resulted in bad words and drawings sunburning into their skin.

Jaheira: Has been enjoying the sun, she's had a glass of wine, and is currently trying to keep an eye on durge to make sure they don't ACTUALLY drown someone. Minsc has been keeping her company, somewhat.

Minsc: Got into a fistfight with a shark, had character development, and then tried to hunt down and apologize to the shark. Spent the rest of the night feeding Boo little treats from the snack table.

Minthara: Can't fucking see in this bright ass weather. This has made her exceptionally grumpy.

Lae'zel: Lae'zel sees absolutely no point in this little excursion. She spent about a fucking hour sharpening her sword, most of the time has been spent shadow-boxing and training. She thought training in the heat of the sun would help boost her discipline and physical tolerance, but then she got sick. It took 4 people to convince her to try and cool off in the water.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate meme #bg3 durge #astarion #dark urge #gale dekarios #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #minthara #karlach #shadowheart #halsin #bear halsin #meme #scenarios #minsc and boo #jaheira

[ckret2]

Chapter 35 of human Bill Cipher is still prisoner of the Mystery Shack and still handcuffed to Stan in spite of their mutual irritation: we return to them under attack by the tooth fairy and her dentist lackey.

In light of this terrible peril, Bill and Stan put aside their differences, politely agree to cooperate, and work together maturely to deal with the threat—

Haha I'm kidding, no they're screaming the most offensive things they can think of at each other.

####

Packed in a dark cluttered closet, trying not to breathe too much of the same air as Bill, under the sound of the dentist mauling his way through the bedroom door, Stan growled, "Okay, genius—do you actually have a plan for when we get downstairs?"

Bill had hooked his borrowed umbrella over his elbow to let him rummage through the closet's contents. Trying to keep his voice low, he said, "We can take the fairy ring down to the guest room and make a run for the exit in the floor room." His eyes lit up with delight. "Hey! Vintage congressman top hat!" He sniffed it. "It still smells like Quentin and peanut brittle." He put on the hat.

Eugh. Stan found himself glad he couldn't see in the dark. "Why the floor room? It's a lot faster to just cut through the living room to the gift shop."

Bill hesitated. "Sure. Fine—"

"What's the matter, Bill, you got a problem with the living room?"

"What?" Bill scoffed. "Of course not. I said fine. It's fine!" He found a large baggie full of teeth, popped it open and licked one to confirm they were real, and stuck the bag under his new hat.

"But it took you a second," Stan said. "If we head for the living room, you won't slow us down by trying to go the other way, will you?"

"Of course not," Bill repeated. It was a little less convincing than the last time. "I was just—trying to figure out if that was the fastest way—"

"Oh, really," Stan pressed. "You sure you aren't scared to go in there with me?"

Bill whipped around to stare at Stan in the dark.

"You think I haven't noticed how you bolt out of the living room any time I come in?" Stan asked. "Or how you flinch every time I raise my hand?"

Bill swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about." He chuckled derisively. "I think you're fantasizing, Stan—"

"Do you really think I don't remember how you died."

Bill's voice caught in his throat. "You said..."

"Yeah, I wanted to see what kind of story you'd make up. You just can't stop talking down to me even when you know it's all lies," Stan said. "As if I'd ever forget seeing you on your knees, begging me for mercy, while I shattered your face like a cheap mirror—"

Bill shoved Stan against one wall, small hands wrapped ineffectively around his throat. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Admit it!" Stan shoved Bill against the opposite wall; Bill tripped and landed heavily on a cardboard box. "Admit that I killed you too! I played just as much a part in it as he did!"

"You did not kill me!" Bill stood on the box, even as it threatened to collapse under his weight, so he could scream in Stan's face, "You couldn't have killed me! I'M NOT CAPABLE OF BEING KILLED BY SOMEONE LIKE YOU!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME?!"

"I'M NOT AFRAID—"

An enormous drill bit pierced the wood between their faces. Bill and Stan screamed.

Just on the other side of the door, Pearl cried, "Careful! Don't hit the girl's teeth!"

Stan snarled, "You moron, look what you—!"

"You started it!" Bill pounded on the door. "Hey! Frankie! Is this worth it?!" He jumped back as the drill came through again, just in front of his sternum. It grazed Stan's bicep; he roared in pain. Bill shouted, "Was paying off your dental school loans worth this? Do you wanna be a murderer, kid?!"

"I can't stop now!" Dr. Illing was audibly sobbing. "You don't understand, I'm in too deep!" The drill pierced again, widening the hole he'd already started.

"If you think she's scary, you can't imagine what I've got—"

Stan clapped a hand on Bill's shoulder hard enough to make him jump; but he growled in Bill's ear, "Count of three."

Bill hesitated, squinting at Stan's future to see what he was planning; but nodded. "Fine." He didn't understand the purpose but he could copy the motion.

Stan put his hand on the doorknob. "One, two..." Bill squeezed his eyes shut. They slammed their shoulders against the door, Stan grunting in pain. Dr. Illing's drill caught in the wood, and they kept shoving it open, jamming the dentist between the door and the wall. Bill leaned against the wood with his full weight to keep Dr. Illing trapped, using his new umbrella to swat away the fairy buzzing in his face. Stan toppled an old fortune telling machine in front of the door to pin it in place.

Pearl barked, "You're useless, Frank!" She had drawn out a wand that looked like a metallic blue toothbrush and was aiming it at Bill's face. "I'll get those teeth myself if I have to!"

Wheezing through crushed lungs, Dr. Illing said, "But the treaty—"

"What treaty?!" From five feet away, she fired a bolt of mint white magic at Bill's horrified face.

Stan seized Bill's umbrella, opened it, and deflected the spell. It ricocheted off the umbrella and punched a flaming hole through the ceiling. From behind this temporary shield, Bill took out the teeth bag and flung a handful across the room.

Pearl gasped, abandoning Dr. Illing to dart after them. "Babies! I didn't hurt you, did I?!" Huh. More effective than Bill had expected.

"Go!" Stan ran for the door, grabbing Bill by the wrist to pull him along too. Bill snatched back his umbrella as Stan paused to shut the bedroom door behind them again. Even though Dr. Illing had shredded the wood around the latch, maybe he'd still struggle to figure out how to open it.  "Living room?"

"I said fine!" Bill shut his umbrella and used it to point toward the fairy ring. "As long as you don't act immature about it!"

"I'm the one being immature?! You're the one who's scared of a room!" They stopped in the fairy ring, too close to each other for comfort; and then, with a disorienting whoosh, they were standing in an identical circle of mushrooms in the guest room. "Why does it even matter so much whether Ford or me killed you?" Stan yanked the door open. "Why is it so hard to admit that I threw the punch that took you out?!"

Bill clumsily kicked several sliced mushrooms aside, breaking the fairy ring, and nearly fell as he tried to keep up with Stan's pace. "Because you didn't kill me! You can't kill me because YOU AREN'T IMPORTANT!"

Stan spluttered in outrage, turning to stare at Bill. "Not important enough to kill you?! How does that even make sense! What, you think you're—too good for a guy like me to take down?!"

Bill's eyes widened the tiniest bit, as though he'd just realized something. A sickeningly gleeful grin stretched across his face. "It's true! I've looked into countless universes! No matter where you go or what you do, you just don't matter!" He wrenched his arm free of Stan's grip with such an effort that he nearly fell down; but he raised his gaze again to Stan's face. "If anything, you just make everything worse."

Stan's hands curled into fists. "You'd better watch your mouth—"

But when Bill planted the tip of his umbrella in the carpet and raised his cuffed hand to point at Stan, he stopped. Just a second ago Bill had been whiny and defensive; but now his inhuman gaze transfixed Stan to the spot. There was power in that mad self-assurance Stan had only ever seen before in criminal lords who commanded hundreds of gangsters. Bill bore himself like an ancient god preparing to pass judgment on a mortal, and Stan had no choice but to listen in dread to his revelation.

Bill said, "You know, I first tried to work with Stanford in a universe where you don't exist? And I couldn't get into his head! He wouldn't give me a chance!" He jabbed his finger toward Stan's chest like a knife. "Because YOU hadn't ruined his life and made him desperate enough to trust an alien! And YOU hadn't spent your whole crooked childhood training him to put up with a con artist's lies—so he'd be ready when he met me. Isn't that funny, Stanley?"

The air rushed from Stan's lungs. His voice was thin and trembling with rage. "You just— You're trying to get on my nerves." He'd never heard anything before that sounded so terribly true. 

"So what if I am! It's still true!" Bill's laughter was like a shriek. "You were stillborn in that universe! Your brother had to grow up without a twin watching over him—so he actually learned how to make friends. And he was a big success at West Coast Tech. Your mother was devastated she'd lost you—but you know what's really funny?" He had the awful grin of a court jester about to deliver a punchline that would start a war. "I think your family loved that dead baby you more than they ever liked the disappointment you turned out to be—"

Stan socked Bill as hard as he could.

He expected Bill to flinch, to duck, to shield his head—something. Bill always flinched. Instead he locked up, facing Stan, wide-eyed and watching the incoming blow. The punch connected with his face with a sickening crunch. Bill toppled flat on his back. His top hat and umbrella tumbled across the floor. The chain jerked Stan down to kneel over Bill.

It was like a spell had broken. Stan stared down at Bill like an idiot. He felt like an idiot. The shock even snapped him out of his anger. He uncurled his fist, saw a smear of blood on one knuckle, tried to say something, and only managed to come up with, "Aw, jeez."

Bill was weak. He wasn't a demon anymore; he was a yappy chihuahua trying to sound bigger than he was because he was scared. Stan knew that. He was only kicking a washed-up loser of a con artist while he was down.

He'd been there before.

Bill had slapped his hand over his mouth and nose, fingers digging into the skin, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Stan swallowed hard. "Hey, I didn't mean to do that much— I mean, you had it coming, but still... uh... you okay?" He awkwardly offered Bill a hand.

Bill reached up—and placed a bloody tooth, root and all, in Stan's palm. 

Stan stared. "Wh."

"Tooth fairy bait." Bill gave Stan a wild, bloody smile. "Thanks for the help. It's been loose for days."

Tooth fairy— Stan automatically glanced toward the doorway to see whether their pursuers were catching up. And only then did he realize they were in the middle of the living room, standing in front of Stan's armchair. He'd been set up.

He stared at Bill.

Bill glared up at Stan. Voice rough, he said, "Who's scared of you?" He spat a wad of bloody spit at Stan's face. The attempt was so weak it landed on Bill's own shirt. A far cry from the whiny triangle who'd tried to bribe Stan into sparing his life.

They both looked up at the sound of wood cracking. Stan said, "All right, we've got bait." He seized Bill's bloody hand and, with a grunt, tried to heave him upright. "Can we set a trap?"

Bill unsteadily climbed to his feet. "I guess?" Either he hadn't thought past getting punched in the face, or the blow had knocked his plan out of his head.

Upstairs, Pearl snapped, "Now hurry, before we lose them!" Dr. Illing's footsteps thudded across the attic floorboards.

"Move," Stan hissed, and when Bill turned to glance cluelessly behind himself at the door, Stan rolled his eyes and shoved him.

Bill tripped over the steps up to the gift shop and stumbled backwards through the swinging door, with Stan following. When Bill had steadied himself, he stared in wide-eyed bafflement at the door he'd just passed through. "How did I..."

"Focus, Cipher!" Stan snapped his fingers in Bill's face. "Gimme some nerdy magic. What traps fairies?"

Bill dragged his gaze away from the door and shook his head woozily. "Uhh... carefully-worded contracts... salt lines, iron..."

"You couldn't have mentioned salt when we could've reached the kitchen?" Stan looked around the gift shop. Iron, iron...

"Wow, that's a great idea. Remind me why we were so bent on getting to the living room?"

"Watch it. You've got a few teeth left." Stan smacked Bill's arm, making him jump, and pointed. "Got it! The old diving helmet!"

Bill squinted his eyes unevenly. "Oh yeah—the one Fordsy got ripped off on. Hey—didja know diving helmets are supposed to be copper, but he got sold a spray-painted—"

"For two minutes, please stop talking about my brother. Will it work?" 

Bill slowly traced a finger through the air as if he were trying to track the path of something only he could see. "Yeah, it could work."

"'Could'?"

The gaps at the top and bottom of the "Employees Only" door glowed bright blue. "Fresh blood," Pearl said, "they went this way!"

"Give me the tooth," Bill said. "And keep Frank out, we're dead if he gets in."

"In there!" Pearl cried, and Dr. Illing's drill revved again. The door to the living room was a swinging door without a latch; curse or no, if Dr. Illing hit it, it would fly right open.

Stan yelled, "Hold it! Do not drill that door! It's... it's load bearing! Yeah, if you start hacking holes in it the whole shack could come down on us!"

The drill powered down. Dr. Illing said dubiously, "That doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about doors to dispute it."

Pearl swooped under the door—carrying an armload of the teeth Bill had thrown earlier—but she turned around when she realized Dr. Illing wasn't following. "What are you stopping for, you idiot! He's lying! Doors don't work like that—"

"Hey, sparkles!" Bill held his bloody tooth up next to his head. "You want this?!"

She gasped in horror, clapping her hands over her mouth and dropping the teeth. "You knocked it out! You monster, what if you chipped it?!" She drew her wand again and, with a tiny shrill roar, she dove for it.

Bill pulled it out of her way with the grace of a matador dodging a bull. She wheeled around faster than Bill could react, flung a spell at his back, and made another dive for the tooth. Stan jerked him out of the way. Bill laughed, "Is that all you've got? I've seen better flying out of dandelion seeds!"

She whirled around to face him again with a growl of frustration, fluffy bob cut puffed up in rage, wings buzzing like the propeller of a fighter plane. The third time she dove for the tooth, she snatched it out of Bill's fingers.

And immediately rammed head-first into the back of the solid iron diving helmet. It rang out like a broken bell. She croaked, "ow."

Stan slammed the front window of the helmet shut. "Ha!"

"Yes!" Bill pointed at the helmet. "You're stupid!"

Dr. Illing—who had dropped down to the ground to peer through the three-inch gap at the bottom of the door—cried, "No!" He pounded on the door in frustration. It swung a few inches open. He stared at it in bafflement. It swung back and hit him in the forehead.

"Well, well, well. It looks like we've got a proper hostage situation, don't we?" Bill rapped on top of the helmet with his umbrella's hooked handle. "Better stay away from the sides, Pearly. What would you say touching iron feels more like—being burned, or electrified? I've always wondered, but never had an opportunity to possess a fairy—"

Stan elbowed him. "Ix-nay on the ossess-pay."

"Right, right." Bill turned to Dr. Illing. "It'd be pretty easy for me to bounce your patron off the walls of this thing. So how's about you drop the power tools and back away from the door?"

Dr. Illing gave Bill the despairing look of a man who'd been struggling to carry an impossibly heavy weight for decades, only for one swift jab in the ribs to make him drop it. But he got to his feet, and after a moment, his yellow tool bag dropped heavily beside the door.

Stan opened the door, slung the bag over his shoulder before Bill got a chance to rifle through it, and pulled out the drill Dr. Illing had been menacing them with. Holding Dr. Illing at drill point, he nodded toward the gift shop exit. "Get walking. Outside."

"But..." Dr. Illing tried to look past Bill and Stan to the diving helmet.

Bill slung an arm around Dr. Illing's back, aggressively encouraging him to hasten toward the door. "Don't worry about her! We plan to resolve this peacefully, don't we, Fisher?"

"Oh yeah," Stan said. "Nothing to worry about."

"But we're negotiating with the boss, not the lackey. So..."

Stan opened the door. Bill planted a foot on Dr. Illing's butt and shoved. "Out you go!"

Dr. Illing went sprawling across the porch. Stan slammed the door on him as he got to his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder to give them a look like a puppy who'd been kicked out in the rain.

"You're going to be in so much trouble when I get out of here," Pearl yelled. She grabbed the bars across the window in the diving helmet, then gasped and withdrew her hands as the iron burned her palms. "When the fairy queen hears about this—!"

"That you were breaking into a human dwelling to try to rip my teeth out of my mouth?" Bill asked. "Oh, I'd love to know what she'll think of that."

Stan rummaged in the nook where Wendy shoved spare napkins and plasticware whenever she brought fast food to work. He used a few napkins to wipe off the bloody scrape the drill had left on his shoulder in the closet, and held a handful out to Bill. "Here."

Bill took them. "What?"

"Your face is a mess. Thought you might wanna—you know." Stan attempted to pantomime shoving napkins in his mouth. As much as Stan thought Bill had deserved the sock, he'd feel like a heel if he didn't help clean him up after the fact.

"Oh. Right." Bill attempted to wipe off his chin, then stuffed a napkin up in the gap where his tooth used to be and pulled it out to see how much blood it picked up. It was a lot. He shrugged and turned to the tooth fairy, grinning. "So. I believe we were negotiating?"

"I'm not negotiating anything with you," Pearl huffed. "Look at what you did to this poor tooth!" She was hugging it protectively to her chest, her thin blue dress stained with blood from the root. "Maybe I haven't obeyed the spirit of my treaty, but I've obeyed the letter of it, and the fairy court will back me up on that—"

"Again, you did try to rip my teeth straight out of my mouth in the middle of the night," Bill said.

"I never! A dentist did! If he happened to feel like giving me the tooth after that, that's his business, isn't it. I could have been aiming my wand at anybody, you don't know."

"Sure, sure! You did nothing wrong. You slid neatly through those loopholes. Maybe your court will even agree with you." Bill leaned closer to the helmet, grinning through the window. "But don't you think—if I drive over to Multnomah County, walk backwards into your queen's court, and tell her what you've been doing—she won't want to close those loopholes? No more hench-dentists."

Pearl had gone very still. "'Walk b—'? How do you... What do you know about our court?"

Bill laughed wryly. "Kid, I've known your court since before it moved to America. I've spoken with the ancestors of the ancestors of your queen. The fae tell fairy tales about me, so if you know what's good for you—"

"Easy." Stan put a warning hand on Bill's shoulder. "Just because she's not human doesn't mean you can just..."

"I know, I know."

Pearl had been watching Bill skeptically as he spoke, clearly trying to weigh how much of his boasting was true—but seeing Stan try to silence him apparently persuaded her of his honesty. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Who—What's your name?"

Bill cast a sideways glance toward Stan, then shrugged ruefully. "Afraid I'm not allowed to tell. You know where we are—even people like you and me can't afford to disobey the collector's house rules. You can call me Goldie Locke. And if you don't want me to negotiate your release with your queen, then you'd better be willing to negotiate with us. Are we clear?"

Pearl nodded.

"Wonderful." (Dr. Illing had circled the gift shop to the nearest window, where he was staring forlornly in at Bill, Stan, and the helmet containing Pearl. Bill waved cheerfully at him.) "I don't know about the Fisherman, here—but I, for one, would like to make sure this doesn't become a problem again. So how about this: if you promise to leave, never harass us again, never have your agents harass us, never via any means attempt to harm us or steal our worldly goods—teeth included—either directly or indirectly, and never return to this house, then we promise not to report your little dentist scheme to your queen. Does that sound fair to you?"

Pearl pouted; but she reluctantly nodded. "Yes, yes—that's fair. I agree."

"Hold on," Stan said. "Once she's outta here, how do we know she'll keep that promise? Shouldn't we get some kind of, I don't know, insurance?"

"She's a fairy," Bill said. "She can't lie even if she wants to. They're compelled to tell the truth. They can twist it, and they can try to get you with tricky wording, but they can't lie. Once they've made a promise, it's unbreakable."

Stan considered that. "Huh." He'd have to double-check that claim with Ford later, he'd know.

"Which is why I get along so well with them," Bill said cheerily, "since I never lie either."

Stan laughed loudly, smacking Bill's back. "Sure! And I'm the queen of England."

Bill mock bowed. "Oh my, your majesty. I had no idea." Stan laughed again.

"I agreed to your terms," Pearl snapped, "so set me free!"

"Hold on." Bill propped his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, leaning close to the helmet again. "I seem to recall I only promised not to tattle to your queen. I didn't promise to let you go." He glanced at Stan. "Isn't that what you heard?"

Now what was he up to? But Stan nodded in agreement. "That's what I heard, all right."

Bill winked. "Like I said: tricky wording."

Pearl let out a swear that sounded like tinkling bells and stomped her foot. "That's ridiculous! If you've already sworn not to tell the queen about my methods, you no longer have any blackmail against me! You can negotiate with her for my release now, for all I care!"

"Your tricky wording backfired," Stan said.

Bill didn't look bothered. "All right. I'm sure you're happy to wait right here until we make the long drive into town, aren't you. You do know where we are, right?"

The fairy's face immediately darkened. "You... I don't see why not! There's nothing to fear in this house."

"Isn't there? Want us to go wake up the head of the house, ask him to babysit you until we get back?" Bill asked.

Huff. "He's gone."

"He's back," Bill said. "If you're lucky, maybe he'll stick you in the freezer for an hour, so it won't hurt when he pins your wings to a cork board." (Stan blinked at Bill in amazement. Head of the house—Soos? Soos?)

Pearl shuddered. "You're a liar."

"Am I?" Bill raised his cuffed wrist. "I've worked with the queens of your queens. I have powers you've never dreamed of. Do you think I'm chained to a doppelgänger for fun?"

Stan said, "To a wh...?" but at Bill's sharp look, he fell silent. All right. A lot of phrases that didn't make sense to him had just flown by. Clearly Bill was using some kind of fairy talk mumbo-jumbo to give her a wildly inaccurate impression of what was going on in this shack. Stan had manners, he wasn't about to interrupt a fellow professional in the middle of conning a mark.

Pearl worked her jaw angrily; but there was something nervous in her gaze now, glancing between Stan's face, the handcuffs, and the rest of the shack. "Maybe you're not as important as you think you are," she said unconvincingly.

"I've got magic teeth, girl."

"Fine!" Pearl stamped her foot. "Fine, I'll negotiate with you! What else do you want?"

Bill pointed at her chest. "I want to choose my payment for that tooth there."

She hugged the tooth protectively, but said, "Fine."

Bill looked at Stan. "You want anything?"

He considered that. "Better-fitting dentures would be nice? Can she do that? Is that something I can ask for?"

"Yeah, you can ask for that."

"Is that all?" Pearl snapped.

"Dentures for him, payment for me, unenchant our door and take out the carvings you left in it, and..." Bill glanced at Stan again, who shrugged. Bill said, "Yeah, I think that's it. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Bill gestured toward the helmet, and Stan flipped its front window open. Pearl stepped out, hovered up level with Stan's face, and gave him a murderous glare; but she drew out her toothbrush wand again and flicked it at him. "There. Happy?"

Stan adjusted his jaw thoughtfully. "Yeah. Oh, those're real nice. Hardly feels like they're there."

"They're better than you deserve," Pearl said haughtily; then turned to Bill. "And you? What payment do you want?"

Bill grinned wide, pointing at the new gap in his teeth. "Solid gold replacement! 24k."

"Pure gold's too malleable for dental work."

"I don't care, this body's a temp. Gimme the good stuff."

She gave him a sour look, but again waved her wand. The blood evaporated from Bill's teeth and gums and a new tooth materialized in the gap, the exact shape of the original but shining gold. Bill licked it experimentally. "Yeah, that'll do."

"Now get outta here," Stan said, "and take your creepy tooth temple with you."

"Hmph!" She turned her nose up at both of them; then zipped across the gift shop, ducking down to snatch up a couple of dropped teeth as she went. She dipped under the door into the living room and was gone.

"Well," Bill said. "We ended up better than we started. Free dental work, a bag of tools..."

"A bunch of property damage," Stan said. "We should've asked her to fix the kids' door."

"Ah." Bill winced. "Nooo, no, probably best we didn't push our luck. Fixing the other door's enough."

Stan shook his head, without much real rancor. "Can't admit you made a mistake, can you?"

"That would be a lie, wouldn't it? And like I said, I'd never lie." Bill smiled impishly. His new tooth gleamed in the dim light. "Let's clean up some of the teeth and mushrooms, huh?"

####

Sweeping up the gift shop was awkward with the handcuffs in the way, but they worked out a system: Stan handled the broom while Bill knelt and held the dustpan. Bill had retrieved his borrowed top hat and umbrella when they went for the broom, and now he kept his cuffed hand on the umbrella, which limited Stan's movement. He almost fussed about it, until he realized Bill's hand was shaking, and each time he stood he leaned on the umbrella like a wobbly cane. Stan tried not to notice how Bill sometimes winced when he had to turn his neck.

As they awkwardly swept up the gift shop, Bill said, "Lucky you got the dentist to stop drilling the door in time, huh."

"What?"

Bill nodded toward the living room. "The load bearing door? I didn't even realize it was that important." He laughed flatly. "We'd really be in trouble if he'd managed to knock it out, huh."

Stan stared at Bill. And then he burst out laughing.

"What?"

"You idiot, doors aren't load bearing!"

Bill stared up at Stan, face slowly going red. "Well, wh— How was I supposed to know that!" Over Stan's laughter, he demanded, "Then why did you tell him it was?!"

"Eh, if he'd so much as nudged the door, he could've gotten right through. Even with that curse you put on him," Stan said. "I had to say something to keep his drill away from it."

"Huh."

Stan could practically see the gears trying to turn in Bill's head as he attempted to understand that information. Maybe he should lay off the poor guy. It was really funny that a little curse made him too stupid to work a door; but he'd turned around and used that same curse to save their hides, Stan should probably give him a temporary pass just for that. He cleared his throat and tried to think of another topic. "Using that tooth as bait wasn't a bad idea."

"Yeah, it was pretty good."

"You could've just asked me to knock it out, though."

Bill glanced up at Stan. His face said, No I couldn't.

Stan understood.

During Stan's decade of travel—thrust into the world far too young, scared, alone, and homeless, with nothing but his wits and a mask of machismo—he had seen, again and again, the truth in one of his father's most frequent lessons: if you weren't tough, then you were nothing. Didn't matter what kind of money, possessions, or friends you had. If you weren't tough enough, you could lose them all in an instant.

And so often, toughness wasn't measured by how many punches it took to knock you down, but by whether the first one made you flinch.

The best thing you could do for yourself was win a fight. But if you didn't stand a chance (and Bill—short, noodle-armed, tiny-fisted, barely able to control his body, facing a man who'd been boxing for fifty years—didn't stand a chance), then the next best thing you could do was show that you could take it like a man. It might win you respect. If it didn't, then at the least it might let you keep some dignity. Bill was desperate for dignity.

Stan had the feeling that Bill had played this game before.

Who had Bill been before Weirdmageddon? Who had he been, that he could call Stan nothing but a con artist and a complete failure who'd have been better off never born—and in between suggest that Ford only trusted Bill because he reminded him of Stan?

####

They cleaned up as best they could, then dragged themselves back to bed.

Bill gave Stan a hopeful look. "Do I get to sleep in the guest room now?"

"No." Ford would murder Stan if he found out he'd let Bill sleep on his bed, and in his final moments Stan would probably think the murder was justified. And that was assuming Bill didn't murder Stan in his sleep.

"Aww, c'mon!" Bill said. "And here I thought we'd bonded a little!"

"Are you kidding? After you said I'm the reason you fooled my brother and my family would be happier if I was dead?!"

Bill laughed lightly. "You're too sensitive!"

As they repositioned their cushions and mattress on either side of the ajar door, Stan paused. "Was that stuff true? Or did you just say it to get a rise out of me."

"What, everything about Stanford being an only child? Naaah—I just thought it would be funny to make you mad."

In his heart, Stan knew Bill had been telling the truth.

Maybe not about there being a dimension where Stanford grew up alone, maybe Bill had made that up; but if so, he'd only made up a fiction that echoed the truth. Mr. Hotshot All-Seeing Eye was right: Stan had only made things worse for the people around him. The best thing he'd ever done with his life was put it on the line to destroy Bill. And apparently, even that hadn't been good enough. 

Not for the first time over the past month, Stan wondered: if he'd never recovered his memories, would Bill have died with them? Was that the lifeline that had let Bill claw his way back? Would it have been better if neither of them had ever recovered? If they'd gone down into oblivion chained together?

Probably, on some cosmic level. Bill would be gone. Stan could've used his last few years learning to be a guy that brought more to the table than lying and punching. Everyone would be having a much better summer this year. But, on the other hand, Stan liked having his memories; and to be honest, Bill had been pretty worthless so far. Maybe it was okay that Stan had only done a C+ job at demon-killing. C+ was a passing grade; and he'd never been a straight A's kind of guy. 

They'd just have to grudgingly tolerate being chained together.

Stan said, "So was it 'funny' getting your teeth knocked in, too?"

Bill considered that; then let out an involuntary giggle. "Yeah, actually." He settled down on his cushion bed. "But—no, really, I never saw a universe where you two weren't inseparable as kids. I'm sure it happened somewhere, the multiverse is infinite—but I didn't dig that hard. Wasn't one of my priorities. I only needed one Stanford to get my portal running, and the one here did just fine."

Stan still didn't think Bill was telling the whole truth; but then, Stan didn't think Bill had been telling the whole truth earlier, either. Bill wasn't actually telling Stan anything about what the multiverse was like—he was just telling Stan how he wanted Stan to feel.

And Bill could have said that everything he'd said earlier was true. But he didn't.

"You really are a pretty good liar, Cipher," Stan said. "It's too bad you're a lousy dirtbag bent on world domination, or you could've made a decent partner-in-crime."

"Yeah?" Bill settled down, holding his broken umbrella to his side and laying his free arm over his collapsed top hat, as if he was worried someone would steal them in his sleep. (Stan would have to get that umbrella in the morning. It had been fine for Bill to keep it while they were fighting for their lives, but he couldn't keep a blunt weapon covered in metal poky bits indefinitely.) "Well, my schedule's clear and I'm bored. Let me know if anything comes up."

"Don't count on it." Stan slid their chain under the door and pushed it shut.

Bill had wiggled out of explaining why he wouldn't admit that Stan had killed him; but Stan didn't think he needed to ask again. He kinda had an idea. He was at that age where he was starting to worry what his obituary would say, too. "Killed by his dimension-hopping long-time nemesis with 12 PhDs" probably sounded a lot better than "Killed by a crooked grifter in his underwear." The first one might let you keep some dignity.

####

Dipper and Mabel came home shortly after dawn. The light was already on in the kitchen; Mabel curiously ducked in to see why. "Grunkle Stan! Bill! What are you doing up so early?" She paused. "Is that my top hat?"

"Mine now."

Stan and Bill were sitting at the kitchen table, with two plates of eggs and bacon (Bill's eggs had chocolate sauce), and mugs of, respectively, coffee and Mabel juice spiked with ground-up caffeine pills. Stan had a bandage on one arm. They looked exhausted. Their wrists were still handcuffed. 

"Oh, you know—" Stan yawned, "—just... full of vim and vigor today."

Dipper surveyed them, tried not to laugh when he saw the cuffs, and asked, "Did you guys even get any sleep?"

Stan grunted and looked at Bill to field that one.

Bill said, "By the looks of it, more than you two did." Dipper's and Mabel's hair were tangled messes, and their clothes were stained with dirt and grass. Dipper looked like he'd fallen on his side into a mud puddle. "How'd the monster hunt go?"

"Partial success!" Mabel said. "The thing that was stealing Pacifica's alpacas came back and we froze its leg! We followed it back to its forest lair and rescued the alpacas! Including Giorgio!"

"The anomaly got away, though," Dipper said, more to himself than anyone else. "But how? It was ten feet tall, it couldn't have hidden. Unless it was... abducted, maybe? In some invisible space ship...?"

Bill rolled his open eye. "Hey—how many of the alpacas were shorn by the time you got to them?"

Mabel gave him a surprised look. "Everyone but Giorgio. How'd you know?"

"We don't need to know," Dipper said quickly. "We can figure it out on our own. C'mon, Mabel." He headed upstairs. Mabel shrugged apologetically, and followed after him.

Stan watched them go, then asked Bill, "So what did take the rich kid's exotic sheep?"

"Freak in the woods who really likes wool suits."

"Huh." Stan sipped his coffee. "It's not dangerous to the kids, is it?"

"Not as long as they don't try to film him." Bill picked up a strip of bacon, tiredly tried to stick it in his eye, sighed, and redirected it to the correct hole.

From upstairs, Mabel shouted, "What happened to our door?"

Stan winced. "Don't worry about it, sweetie! I'll fix it later."

Bill said, "We didn't clean upstairs, did we."

Stan tried to remember what all had been left behind. Bedsheet hanging out the window, teeth on the floor... "It's—it's fine. Those kids love mysteries."

"Ha. Yeah, the boy would probably just get mad if we told him what happened before he figured it out himself."

There was the faint sound of the vending machine opening. A moment later, Ford walked in with an empty mug of coffee. "You're up early," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

Bill gave Ford a sleepy smirk. "Aw, I didn't know you cared."

Ford shot Bill a glower, did a double take at the top hat, then shook his head and looked away. "I wasn't asking you. I hope you got a crick in your neck that lasts the rest of your life." (Bill laughed.)

Stan shrugged off the question. "Oh yeah, no problem. Got comfortable and didn't move all night."

"We barely even noticed the cuffs," Bill said, stifling a yawn. "Slept like babies."

Ford raised a skeptical brow. Still, he nodded and went to get coffee for himself. Stan had a broken umbrella hanging from the back of his chair; Ford assumed it was yet another confiscated weapon and picked it up to move somewhere Bill couldn't access it. "Well, I'm relieved that at least nothing weird happened last night."

"Yeah, nothing weird at all," Stan said.

"Most normal night of my life," Bill said.

There was a knock on the door. At this hour of the morning? Ford said, "I'll get that."

He answered the door.

On the porch was a haggard, slumped, very sad looking man in a white lab coat. Nearly on the verge of tears, he asked, "Can I please have my ability to open doors back? I—I had to sleep outside last night. So many bugs."

Ford stared at him. "Only the person who cast the spell can lift it. Just a moment."

He ducked into the kitchen, glared at Bill, and said, "'Slept like babies,' did you?"

Neither Bill's nor Stan's innocent smile was convincing.

Ford focused on Bill's mouth. "And where'd you get that tooth?"

"Ah." Bill looked at Stan.

Stan cleared his throat. "So the good news is, we've got a great story for your journal."

####

(And that concludes the tooth fairy arc! If you enjoyed it, I'd love hearing from y'all! I'm really proud of how this whole plot came out. Next week we start on the absolute stupidest plot arc you've ever seen.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle stan #(character tags for the fic itself; obviously they're not in the art lol) #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[dunmeshi-darlings]

I know the race bios say ages of maturity but is that actually when they arw adults or is that just when they can do things on there own?

that is a valid question, and one im happy to answer. MAJOR DUNGEON MESHI SPOILERS AHEAD! PLEASE DO NOT LOOK IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS Lets use half-foots for example

Here we see that the half foot age of maturity is 14 years old, Now like you said this could just be when they can start being responsible like adults. However i am going to point towards this scene in the daydream hour which takes place after the end of the manga

Here we see Chilchucks daughters wanting to preparefor the dinner party marcille invites them too once laios has become king. Here his daughter Flertom says "but won't it embarass you, dad? To have Three adult daughters who are unmarried?"

She specifically uses the word adult when referencing her and her sisters. The sisters ages are as follow from left to right

Puckpatti is the youngest at 14 Flertom is the middle child at 16 And finally meijack who is also 16, however she must be older than flertom as she is refered to as "big sis". Even at there youngest we see puckpatti, who is 14, is called an adult. Because thats what the age of maturity is in the bios, this is when they are considered adults for there race. If a half foot at 14 is an adult who can pursue romantic and sexual relationships (unless your chilchuck in which case its 13), than it stands to reason the same goes for all the races? We also see them planning to try and romance laios, showing that they are able and willing to pursue romantic and sexual relationship with other races (specifically laios who is 26 and possibly older at this time) . Because they are adults, at 14 half foots are fully grown adults. Just like how at 14 Orcs are fully grown adults for their race. its sad seeing people attack each other because they cant understand that because a character is 14 doesnt mean they are a child, because in the story that is fully grown adult for their kind. But people just arnt realizing it, its why i answer asks like these and make posts like these because people dont seem to understand that there ages arnt the same as us because they arnt humans in the real world. Ive also seen People argue that the tallmen are humans so their aging goes the same way as ours in the real world, and while i do understand that mindset it just isnt right. If we look in the average lifespan slot of the races we see (human, and either short-lived race or long-lived race)

Because human is a classification of the races that arnt demihuman, even the ogre's fall under the "human" umbrella. If the tallmen race was meant to represent humans like me and you, they would just be called humans. Its not like kui wouldnt call them humans if they are the same as you and me. Also if tallmen are just humans than the other non demihuman races wouldnt be in the "human" category with how large the differences are.

So yes, Age of maturity in dungeon meshi is when an individual of the race is considered a full grown adult and no, tallmen arnt just "human but fantasy", they are distinct and different than a regular human.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi spoilers #dungeon meshi spoiler #dunmeshi spoiler #chilchuck #meijack #flertom #puckpatti

[kaybreezy3000]

Five is your employer and he's not happy with you. As the night unfolds, you have a very unexpected encounter with him...

~Rated somewhere between G and Mature because, like many of my stories, you can easily skip the sexually explicit parts. (see notes)

This story takes place where we left off with season three, but 5 years later. The name is a nod to hints of what might be coming, though I doubt the Netflix writers are going with my little storyline I have created for you.

~This one is sort of gift to all fanfiction readers and writers. May you always keep passwords on our documents and devices, or maybe not... 😂👌

Warnings: Mildly sexual themes in the middle. This does turn sexually explicit in the second half, but you don't need to read that part to enjoy the story and there is a warning when that starts if you aren't into all that stuff.

(8,711 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Hargreeves home for wayward boys'

It was the end of the day and the Hargreeves family had all disappeared. You knew they were somewhere privately hashing things out, but as just a lowly intern working on their project, staying for that to happen was not necessary. They would call you later to give their decision and then you’d submit the order.

Speaking of which, your phone rang with a call from your boss and it distracted you as you were collecting your things. Arms full and not realizing you had forgotten something, you used your backend to bump open the large doors of the Umbrella Academy. The doors clicked closed behind you and you walked out into the refreshingly cool evening air. 

Downstairs in the musty kitchen, Allison threw her head back, letting out a tired sigh before saying, “Guys, arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to end this debate. The order needs to be placed today or we won’t have the sign back when the masons are scheduled to be here to install it.”

Viktor set his empty mug on the counter next to a pair of Grace’s discarded rubber dishwashing gloves. “Why don’t we just vote on it?” he proposed, uneasily glancing at Five.

“I say we go with ‘The Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys,” Diego loudly declared while raising his arm high, to which the rest of the Hargreeves abruptly raised their hands, making it a unanimous vote, if not for Five, sitting forward with his head in his hands and his elbows on the kitchen table as he venomously glared at all of them.

Five locked eyes with Luther. “Really?” he snapped.

His brother nervously smiled. “Ah… Sorry. I changed my mind, buddy.”

“Don’t call me buddy.” Five angrily shook his head. “You changed your mind, huh? Sorry to inform you but clearly this one doesn’t work any better!”

Not getting Five’s belittling joke, Luther looked to Ben who silently rolled his eyes for about the hundredth time in the last hour.

“And you,” Five roared, pointing his finger at him. “You had shown signs of intelligence but now I have my doubts. Maybe if you keep rolling your eyes like that you might find evidence of a brain up there. This name doesn’t even make any sense! We aren’t just admitting boys!”

“Sure it does,” Lila disagreed. “You’re the only one who doesn’t think so but that’s because it’s very hard for children to think clearly when they haven’t had their nap. Should we call Grace to fetch your blankie and to make your bottle so you can go to bed early?”

Five balled his hand into fists under the table. “You should use glue instead of Chapstick. I hear it does wonders for making you more tolerable to be around,” he childishly shot back to which Lila merely laughed at him. “So, this is it…nobody else thinks that name sounds awful?” he hissed at anyone still looking at him.

Getting up with a loud squeal of his wooden chair leg on the cracked linoleum flooring, Klaus patted Five on the upper back, but his brother jerked away from the gesture. “Oh, come on, Five,” he said followed by an airy laugh. “It’s perfect. Even that cute intern upstairs thought so. After we gave her the low down dirty-dirty on our real family history, she’s the one that came up with it.”

Five scowled even more.

“Ahhh,” Diego obliviously sighed. “Things are finally coming together with this project and I’m feeling a Hargreeves style celebration coming on.” He draped his arm around the back of Lila’s chair looking at her, but she was too busy smirking at Five’s increasingly animated display of sour expressions.

“Let’s all go out!” Klaus excitedly added. “I know a great place for karaoke.” Five got up, slinging his suit coat over his shoulder as he started to walk away but Klaus snatched his arm. “Hold it! You’re coming with us.”

Five swifty swatted his hand away, distastefully brushing his brother’s invisible fingerprints from the crisp sleeve of his white dress shirt. “I’d rather shove a pinecone up my ass and let it sit in there until it dissolved than have to be in the presence of all of you for even five more minutes,” he smoothly retorted while flipping up his cuff to check the time.

Klaus’s bright eyes grew wide with glee. “If you are looking for things to shove up your ass, I can think of way more painfully pleasant options. Come on, let me tell you all about it while we decide where we are going to eat.”

Skirting around the table, Five dodged Klaus before he could put an arm around him to drag him in with the rest of the group who were now talking about dinner plans and the epic songs they were going to belt out later.

After breaking away and muttering under his breath that they were all a bunch of idiots, Five slowly wandered up the stairs. With his fists firmly jammed in his pockets and his shoulders inclined forward, his gaze remained empty though his thoughts were anything but.

After making numerous other suggestions, they had all disregarded his concerns, just like they always did. Whether it was trying to help them avoid apocalyptic ends or simply being somewhere at a specific time to save their own asses, he never could win in this family. 

Five cringed as he thought about the name they wanted to use and what it was really referring to.

He was the embodiment of the wayward boy in his family’s less than glorious story. Worst yet, the nod to Homer’s Odyssey, being that it was a narrative Reginald had forced them to remember by heart, was just one of the millions of reasons why, in his head, this was a horrible choice.

That man was an evil incarnate, and Five may have for a time wanted his love and acceptance or even in the very least, his recognition, but he never got them. They’d been used and dumped in a new world without their powers, but at least they had been left with their identities and their childhood home, but those days of bowing to that vile alien parading around as a man were long gone. Five did not want to be associated in any way with Reginald Hargreeves and that title for their new foundation did just that.

“How could they not see that?” he asked himself, trying to work through all this but coming up with nothing other than they were morons. “The last name Hargreeves was already on half the buildings in the city!” he shouted to no one, his voice getting eaten up in the long corridor as his dress shoes stomped along the black and white tiled floor.

As Five watched his siblings raise their hands in favor of the symbolic title, he felt even more set apart from them than he ever had. That feeling wasn’t anything new, and there were many reasons for it, but today, he’d had enough of them not listening to him and he wasn’t about to let this one go until he’d tried one more avenue of attack.

Tromping through the foyer, thinking he’d see you or the lead designer, Five glanced inside the formal dining room but neither of you were there. Looking over the stacks of blueprints on the table, Five spotted your laptop. It was lying among the other items strewn in the large mess but your coat and bag that had been hanging on the back of the chair were gone. Thinking you must have forgotten it and that you had gone for the day, he picked up the streamlined electronic device and carried it with him out of the room.

He’d been dying to lay into you for convincing his family that this asinine idea was the way to go. Sadly, since you weren’t there, that would have to wait and that left him in no better mood, but as he carried your laptop down the hall, he was quickly developing a new plan.

Thinking of you, Five could just see you looking at him like you always did-cautiously but kindly. 

You were always professional and extra nice to him in your interactions, despite him being dismissively rude at times. You’d laugh off his detached behavior and truthfully, he didn’t mind the sound of it, or your sweet smiles, or how your legs looked under your many short skirts and smart little slingback heels. He’d never let himself do more than appreciate the view when you weren’t looking, and he’d thought you were about as harmless as a chipmunk marinated in fertilizer that was walking sideways.

He was wrong on that, and worse yet, he simply didn’t get you and Five did not like when he didn’t understand things.

His lips pulled to the side as he noted your almost unnatural ability to remain persistently positive when working with a bunch of ridiculous assholes. Looking past some of your more appealing qualities, he quickly concluded that you were about as stupid and fake as fake could get.

You had stepped on the wrong man’s toes and this meant war.

With steam practically billowing out his ears over how mad he was at you, Five became absorbed in the thought of pissing some of his own mocking sunshine into your Clever Crisp cereal and he knew just the way to do it and get rid of you.

“Perfect fucking idea my ass,” he said through clenched teeth as his diabolical grin spread.

Five opened Reginald’s old office door and flopped down at the large mahogany desk. Flipping the laptop open, he flexed his fingers, his eyes roaming over the keys as the screen came to life.

They could call the design team and tell them the decision was made, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something about it and make it look like you were the one that fucked things up, which as an added bonus that would probably get you fired.

If the very expensive stone signage they were ordering came and didn’t say what his family had wanted it to say, at that point, you’d be in deep shit, and he’d simply look the other way feigning innocence. He’d argue that at that point it was an issue of money and managing their extremely tight budget, so, to be sensible, they should just go with it as is-which would be his title of choice.

To Five, this was a win-win. Nosy intern fired, and no more demeaning name that was a reference to him hanging above the academy’s front door.

It was a simple matter of typing in his idea in the order form, and sitting in front of him was the means to do it. Call or no call, he’d send this in first. The work would get started and it would be too late.

Five was no hacker but over the last few years of being holed up at the Umbrella Academy due to having to live the life of a shut-in teenager again, he’d learned a thing or two about modern tech. With a few clicks, he was into your files.

“Where is it?” he hummed as his eyes ran over the images of little manila folders. There were tons of them and the way you had them labeled was not helping.

Clicking on one that appeared to have image files attached to it had seemed logical since he was looking for a mockup of the graphic design they’d be using going forward for all their letterhead and signage.

“Shit,” Five scoffed as he saw tiny blips of hundreds of your personal photos. These had nothing to do with what he needed and that also meant this computer was not just something you used for work. He was just about to close the file since it was obviously personal in nature but then an image of you when you were slightly younger caught his eye.

Your cheeks were a little bit rounder and your hair a little longer. When he clicked on the next shot and it was one where you were on some kind of vacation and you were wearing a swimsuit, he leaned forward.

He stared at the picture, suddenly intrigued. Opening more pictures, Five realized that same bright smile of yours never faltered in any one of the shots.

It had never crossed his mind that he’d see anything personal while he was digging through your computer, but here it all was and all he had to do was open the files because you foolishly didn’t password protect them.

Driven by curiosity and with nothing else to do for the night, Five dug deeper into your world. He found files with old college assignments which he skimmed over with only moderate interest. Then, clicking on a folder that seemed harmlessly titled, he found himself completely distracted, all at once, totally forgetting what he’d been searching for.

Five scooched even closer to the screen.

The first file he opened was relatively small and he read through it quickly. It was written like some sort of story, or more like part of one. It was about a man that found himself in a version of his body that was much younger looking than he should be. Miraculously he had been through hell and back, and mentally he was much older than he looked, but outwardly he didn’t look any older than his physical age of eighteen. The details of how this all came to be weren’t in this part of her story, but Five immediately recognized the familiarity of the storyline, and he instantly started plowing through the other files in that folder in a sudden need to know what else you’d written.

The files were like snippets of a larger story, not yet fully written or interconnected the way a novel would be, but all of them involved the same two characters, and the scenes were incredibly familiar but also not. Changes to how they actually occurred in real life were subtle enough to make what he was reading fiction, but the similarities were what agitated him and had his defenses on high alert. Even more than that, the male character in your writings was a perfect description of him in all but his name, and the female, though barely described, very much resembled you.

The story laid out that the male character was the infamously lost son of a very wealthy man whose influence held the entire world by the throat. After appearing out of the blue on the doorstep of his family home after years of being missing, this boy chose to keep to himself but that didn’t mean people weren’t aware he was back.

He intentionally carried himself apart from all others, always dressed impeccably, with his dark hair neatly smoothed to one side. He was cold and calculating and always moved with intent, brooding in his mannerisms, but the female in the story also described him as so breathtakingly handsome when he thought no one was looking and he dared to crack a smile.

“She thinks I’m handsome…?” Five breathed as he read on.

The female narrator went on to say, ‘It turned out, that he could storm around the near empty academy all day if he wanted, or even call the president and claim that he was now a 59-year-old man, but sadly that didn’t mean a thing if you had no proof and you looked like a murderously feral kid parading around in your fancy big boy clothes.’

Five’s stomach dropped through the floor. There was no way this wasn’t about him, and you weren't even trying to hide it!

Talking to a character that was said to be one of this tragic figure’s brother’s, the female in the story was told that the boy had no other choice but to abide by laws of normal men unless he wanted to risk the state forcing him into the foster system or worse. All this left him with little choice and a very bad taste in his mouth and he’d been lashing out for years with vengeance about it, ironically acting just like the temperamental teenager he appeared to be..

By the time the woman in the story had come to work for him, years had passed and this character was technically not a kid anymore. Again, because he was too proud to move in with any of his siblings, he’d served his time living behind the walls of the academy his family owned, but those difficult days were no more. It was time to move on, but the female character could see that for all her employer’s outward confidence, the man inside the boy wasn’t sure how to do that.

He still hadn’t found his place in the world. He lived in limbo, completely alone, other than the presence of a robot housekeeper that he called Grace and his siblings still called mom.

He went out but did not act as someone would who was his outward age, yet it wasn’t really his fault because he couldn’t partake in what those his real age did. He dressed like a man on a mission though he had no reason to anymore. Three-piece suits on a teenager and his smug expressions and even more caustically biting words weren’t gaining him any friends on his daily outings or within the tight circle of those he trusted and called family.

The female narrator said, outwardly, he was one thing, but inside, he felt like a joke.

His sharp green eyes spoke of his true age and the trauma of the life he’d lived, but he kept himself in check most of the time, never letting his guard down or letting anyone in for fear that they would see how much he suffered and still does.

Despite his cruelties to even her, the female protagonist said she saw right through him and under all of it was some very special. She said he was worthy of so much more than he was letting himself have.

“What the fuck? What the hell does she mean by special and worthy of more? My life is just fine!” Five fumed.

Five wasn’t just furious about this, he was confused. It didn’t seem like you were trying to actually write a book since none of this it was in any form of order, but he was stumped as to why else you’d be writing such things other than to exploit him somehow and make money by trying to sell some bullshit tell-all story about his fucked-up life.

He shook with fury, his knuckles white as he clenched the wooden armrests on Reginald’s old high back chair.

You had called him out but did so safely from his pretend female’s perspective. 

You said this male’s lack of interest in others was just a way to hide how vulnerable and lonely he truly felt! 

You said that all his arrogance and cocky remarks were nothing more than a sign that he was desperate for love that he’d never been given, and now didn’t know how to reach for.

You said you felt bad for him!

“I don’t need her fucking sympathy!” Five seethed as he angrily clicked on another much longer file in your writing folder.

Right off, he could tell this one was much different than the others he’d read about your daily exchanges in this fictional yet not fictional narrative you’d been writing about him.

It was set in the same work setting, set in the large manor that the deceptively young male lived. The characters were in a richly decorated office, with dark paneled walls and low light filtering in from the setting sun bleeding through the stained-glass windowpanes.  You didn’t need to say this was once this man’s notoriously cruel father’s office for Five to know you were trying to describe the room he was sitting in right now.

The male was sitting in the regal looking chair behind the desk, smug as ever as he stared at the girl. His cool, calculating eyes devoured the entire length of her legs while he slowly but deliberately pushed them apart at the knees, spreading them wide as she submissively sat on the desk in front of him.

Five’s breath hitched as that line and the images described in it played over and over in his head like a naughty ping pong ball.

That saucy passage was Five’s first indication that this story was not like the others and that what he was about to read was not going to be at all like what he’d read so far. 

This had turned into some kind of fictional love affair.

Itching heat started to crawl up Five’s neck once he reached the third paragraph and the first lines of dialogue were laid out with perfect effect.

With this male shamelessly observing that under her skirt, the girl was not wearing any panties, she grinned and playfully purred, “You can have me any way you want…”

From there, the two characters proceeded to take things to a place between them that Five had never considered until it was literally being spelled out for him.

As Five read on, parts of him were waking up that had nothing to do with his anger concerning you. The document he was reading was essentially like taking a very seductive trip inside your mind and maybe even more surprising, seeing something that was inside his. It was a firsthand description of how you really saw him, what you wanted from him, and maybe even more scandalously what you wanted to do to him.

Five was not familiar with this kind of writing and the only way he could describe it was explicit, with the descriptions of what was going on being detailed enough that he read the words with a slightly gapped mouth and a rapidly quickening pulse.

The previous files he’d read had focused on emotional and psychological themes, making the barefaced sexual purpose of this one all that much more of a shock. He had no idea you were attracted to him and found his appearance and flippantly dickish behavior so appealing.

If he’d thought you made no sense before, but now he was beyond baffled by you.

As the scene he read moved past him pleasuring you, on to your character kneeling down on the floor between his legs as he confidently opened his pants and he told you to get to work, Five took in a long, deep breath. He reactively moved his hand over the heat between his legs, his palm pressing down the hard length beginning to make itself known under the tightening stretch of fabric covering him.

In spite of his flawlessly pale skin, Five was typically not the type to blush, but by the time he was done reading your story, he felt like his face was on fire and his body was going to spontaneously combust. Unable to stop himself, Five began to more intently rub the aroused flesh hidden under the wool of his pants.

He started reading the story again, and he was so taken by it all that he didn’t hear you walking down the hall.

“Oh, there it is,” you said as you walked in and saw the back of your laptop sitting in front of the last person you had figured you see with it. To make it more bizarre, you didn’t remember leaving it in there and Five was looking at it with the most intense expression you’d ever seen grace his sharply expressive features.

With worry hitting you with the unforgiving force of a tanker truck, you rushed around the large piece of furniture separating you to see what had captured his attention so fully that he only just now looked up at you, finally registering that you were there.

With his hands flying up from his lap, Five tried to clear the screen.

Seeing the title to your very, very naughty story about him on the autosave line, you shrieked out a plethora of swear words, some which you just made up on the fly. Five was sure to have never heard some of your more imaginative curses prior to that moment, but you were pretty sure their meaning was not lost on him based on how he was backing away from you.

You slammed the laptop closed.  Then you covered your face with your hands and started pacing as you incoherently mumbled.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you could see that Five was clearly stunned by what had just transpired. He looked like his brain had stopped working, which was impressive since he was a proven genius.

Great. You broke the poor man and all it took was literarily getting your fuck on with him!

Then, instead of flipping out, to your surprise, Five said your name. It came out so soft and unsure and nothing like the way he normally spoke to you. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged that he knew your name. You had thought that to him, you were just another nameless person they’d hired.

Hearing it, you dropped your hands, revealing a face so red that it only made your body’s less than desirable response accelerate even more, and then you got redder.

Not sure what to say, your next words burst from your mouth. “You must think I am a perverted weirdo! I swear I am not… It’s just…a silly hobby. I- I write things to get them out of my head and I always delete them. I wasn’t going to-"

You didn’t know how to explain yourself, so you squeezed your eyes shut rather than take another second of him sitting there, still as a statue, still staring at you in what you could only guess was horror.

If you weren’t sure that Five was gearing up to bite your head off and report you to the police, you’d almost think his own red-faced expression of distress was cute, but that was only if you didn’t know better. Under his boyish charm, there was a very dangerous man that was about to spring to life. That person had no interest or reason to show someone who’d invaded his privacy any mercy.

Trying to save your ass, you sputtered, “I never write stuff like that, it’s just… Shit. This is basically my worst nightmare. I am so sorry.”  You let out a broken sounding moan. You turned around, burying your face in your hands again. “Don’t worry, I am going. I will submit my resignation right away and I will delete that right now.”

Starting to cry, you moved to do just that but Five scared the hell out of you when he snatched your hand away and didn’t let go.

His eyes narrowed and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. You tried yanking your hand back, but he held fast. “Stop!” he ordered, and you did, sort of. Your entire body trembled as you uselessly pulled, trying to get away. Reeling you back in to face him, Five calmly said, “You better not quit.”

What?

Had you heard him right?

God, he was close. You could feel the heat from his body and the warmth of his breath hitting your lips.

“Please stop crying,” he whispered.

You shook your head.

Undeterred by your inability to speak or to stop your sniffles, Five moved his hand to your waist and his penetrating eyes bore into yours making it impossible to look away. “That little story there…” 

He stopped speaking. Suddenly looking flustered he ran his hand back through his hair, rumpling it in the most adorable way. 

“You haven’t asked me what I thought about your writing?” he taunted, his voice so low and threatening sounding that you weren’t sure why your feet weren’t moving so you could high-tail it out of there.

Your reply came out as anxious sounding as you felt. “I don’t need to ask. I can tell by the way you are looking at me that you think I am nuts, and you hate me.”

Five drew in a deep breath, his eyes floating to the ceiling for a moment before he held your eye again and countered, “Well, if you think that, then you are right about the other things you wrote about me. I am a complete asshole and treat people like shit, but that is not my intent right now, despite my past and what my face says. You were very accurate and astute when it comes to nailing down who I really am, but perhaps when it comes to how I really feel about all this, and you, you shouldn’t be looking at my face.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, Five slid his arm around your waist, pulling your hips flush with his, and that forceful maneuver made it very clear what he thought about what you wrote.

Wiping your eyes as your heart raced, you muttered a very unintelligent sounding, “Oh.”

Five’s excruciatingly soft looking lips pulled up on one side, the look of it matching what you only now recognized in the sparking emerald of his shining eyes. There was a menacing level of mischief in him that was all the more strengthened by his burning arousal.

Confidently taking you by the wrist, Five led you back to the desk. Pressing you back against the unforgiving wood surface, directly between him and his chair as he said, “I am sorry I have been so…” His smile widened and you felt like you could melt from the sheer sight of his dimple deepening. “I have been so blind. You are right about everything you said about me.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you tried not to lose it over the way he was looking at you or the feel of his long fingers trailing up your thighs, not stopping until they were hidden just under the hem of your skirt where he let them settle.

Not sure what was happening, you shakily asked, “How much did you read?”

“All of it. Twice,” he blew across your lips as his teasingly hovered so close it was making you dizzy. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Your writing is very good,” Five added as he flipped your hair aside and his mouth brushed with featherlight gentleness against your neck, making spiraling fireworks of tingles run up and down your spine.

You shut your eyes, feeling like you were having an outer body experience as Five placed tender but persistently more certain kisses along your throat and the shell of your ear. “You’re not mad?” you quietly asked, lost in his extremely loving touches.

Five’s fingers came up, moving a strand of hair from your forehead before those same fingertips tickled across your cheek then gripped your chin, forcing your face up next to his.

Your droopy eyes reactively flipped open.

“No. I am not mad,” he quietly responded, the comforting green of his eyes all but overtaken with the darkness of his growing lust. “I was mad at first and not just because you like to write stories about me. At first, I was hell bent on ending you for interfering in matters that don’t concern you. Pushing my family to choose such an inadequate name for our foundation was your crime and I was going to make you pay, but I see all that a little differently now. Funny how hearing a little truth done in the right way can make a very old, yet forever young fool see the light,” he finished with a chuckle that sounded so unbelievably charming coming from such a normally serious person.

“You don’t like the name, and you wanted to end me? That’s why you stole my laptop?”

Five laughed again. “Thanks to you, the name might be growing on me.” Ignoring your other questions he somewhat less assuredly said, “Is it true what you said about me… That part you wrote about how in the face of how much I lost, the fact that I never stopped fighting to change things for the better was the most admirable and important quality a person could have?”

“Yes. Of course I meant it.  You’re an example of what it means to be strong and not give up and that’s what these kids need, and that is why I suggested that name after hearing your brother Klaus ramble on for hours about your life and how wonderful you are. You are someone they can look up to and that name seemed like it spoke of the trials yet also many triumphs of your amazing life.” Seeing Five’s face light up and feeling brave, you cautiously added, “From what I hear, we are all lucky you never gave up and aren’t lost anymore. If not for you, there wouldn’t be a world left. We owe our life to you.”

Five looked down at the minimal space between you, his dark lashes fanning his beautifully flushed cheeks.

“That’s not necessarily true, and in many ways, I am still lost,” he admitted. “You were right, I push people away. I lack basic social skills and I have been way too much of an arrogant prick to own that, and for it, I am alone.” His smoldering eyes flipped back up. “But I don’t want that. I want someone that sees me the way you do and isn’t scared of who I really am.”

The slightest tic as his jaw tensed was the only sign that Five wasn’t as sure of himself as he appeared.  

“Are you scared of me?” he provocatively lured, almost as if he were baiting you.

You croaked back a very embarrassing sounding, “No.”

Looking like he loved that, Five excitedly asked, “Good, then will you let me show you how sorry I am for being a dick, and how much I appreciate you making me see all this in a new way? You are right. Nothing sticks it to my old man like making this place in name and purpose into something about giving people less fortunate a second chance. That is not what he’s about and using his name and things he knows are a jab at him is a perfect fuck you.”

That smile of Five’s that could explode a girl’s lady bits came out to play again and with it his hand ran down your back, gripping you by hard on the ass.

“Since you seemed to like the idea of it, and you haven’t kicked me in the balls yet, will you give me a chance to make your fiction come to life?”  he courteously questioned, though none of this conversation had anything to do with any form of normal social decorum.

As his words hit home, Five quirked a dark brow at you, and again, ever so subtly, he let you get a feel of his desire as he trapped your body between his and the desk.

“What I lack in experience, I tend to make up with determination and my ability to quickly learn even the most complex concepts and tasks,” he added hopefully.

Squirming a little, your eyes flit over the contours of Five’s face as you tried to imagine the older man that he really was, but like usual, you could only nail that part of him down in the unnaturally assured way he held himself. Like it had from the first time you laid eyes on him, the paradox that was Five Hargreeves only made you want him more.

“I could let you do that…” you flirtatiously dangled, “as long as you aren’t planning on ending me still. Being all scary like you are is hot and all, but the threats against my life and livelihood are sort of a lady boner kill.”

Letting out another laugh that you could hardly believe you were hearing coming from him, Five nodded. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until I give us both a happy ending and I don’t mean that kind of ending,” he growled just before his lips crashed against yours and his hand moved behind your neck, locking you to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⚠️This concludes the PG 13 ending option. Go on if you want the explicit ending option.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five’s kiss took your breath away. His tongue pushed inside your mouth as he searched for more.

His kiss was perfectly unpracticed, warm and innocent.

The feel of him letting himself go in this way had you securing your legs around his backside, encouraging him to take even more, which he did, urging your bottom up onto the desk where he held you on the edge.

The protrusion of Five’s erect cock jabbed into your abdomen as he thrust himself against you as if he was already fucking you. “Fuck, I fucking want you,” he wetly gasped as he let your mouth go, only to assault your neck and then your collarbone with nips and needy kisses that were sure to leave their mark.

With his sucking and well timed bites, he was hitting all your most sensitive spots, and you knew without asking that he’d learned just what to do to drive you wild from what he’d just read. As your head dropped back and your eyes closed, you couldn’t believe that a story that was never meant for his eyes had accidentally stoked this passion in him and had now come to this.

Feeling his hand moving higher under your skirt, you let out a huffy little moan, followed by a whining sound. With a smile, Five looked up, looking first at your puffy lips and then your glossy eyes as if something had just occurred to him.

As you were trying to figure out why he’d stopped, he leaned into your ear, softly speaking something in another language. “Sei così bella. Voglio conoscere ogni parte di te ed essere tutto ciò che pensi che io sia..”  (You are so beautiful. I want to know every part of you and be all the things you think I am.)

As Five moved along, kissing your jaw, you didn’t even get to ask what he’d said before his fingers were dropping down over your underwear.

“Well, well, well…” he tutted. “You aren’t supposed to be wearing these.” With that, Five remedied that deviation from your story, flipping your legs together and then tugging your panties down so he could stuff them in his back pocket.

His lips brushed yours and you trembled from that as well as the sensation of his fingers coming at you back and forth. They were gliding between your folds as he gauged your reactions to his explorations with a look of devoted persistence that proved he wasn’t kidding when he said he was all about learning the best way to please you. 

Soon Five had you making sounds that were somewhere between pathetic whimpers and pleas for more. Then with no warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, and half mad, your mind spiraled into chaos ad he crooked the digits upwards. He worked them in and out with an intensity that was bordering on too much and your body spasmed around him, your legs at his backside clenching him tighter before going limp as you cried out his name.

Five smiled with satisfaction, pulling back just a little to watch your chest heaving and your body writhe.

“That’s it, honey, only next time I want the entire city to know I am fucking you,” he smugly informed before diving back in to kiss you again, all the while his long fingers never stopped dragging out every last tremor of your release.

Even in your state of bliss you could tell that Five was trying and failing to one-handedly undo his belt. Softly pushing him back, you weren’t sure he was going to relent but when he did, he looked humorously desperate.

“Wait you breathed. You can have me as many times as you want and in any way you want, but first there’s something I’ve been dying to do to you.”

That perked Five’s attention.

You pulled your lip between your teeth for only a moment before you pounced on him, your humiliation from earlier now nothing more than an afterthought as you pushed Five back and down into his chair. His vest buttons were your first target, and you relished the feeling of Five straining as you took control and your hands worked, unpackaging him.

Next, the shiny little buttons on his dress shirt popped open, one-by-one.

Once done, you ran your hands across Five’s exposed upper body, loving how firm and smooth his skin was. The contours of his leanly defined abs made him look like some kind of sex God. The very fine trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down, along with the ‘V’ shaped arrow of his muscle leading into his pants, were a sight to behold on their own but they were also drawing your attention to another intriguing a part of him that you could already tell was plenty more than average sized.

Not one to be outdone, while you were checking him out, Five suddenly reached up and ripped your blouse open, making it your second clothing casualty if you counted your underpants that he’d stolen.

His voice was barely more than a whisper but this time you were pretty sure you knew what the single word he spoke meant.

“Perfetta.” (Perfect.)

As your mouth moved to his, he shot forward to meet you, but Five was still mostly letting you have your way with him as you finished undoing his pants and pulled them open so you could fish him out of the thin cotton restraining him.

“My turn,” you warned before coming back to Five’s awaiting mouth, your kiss muffling his groan as your hand pumped his hard length, testing him and finding him deliciously responsive and dripping with pre-cum.

You saw a tinge of madness in his gaze as your thumb circled, teasing the slit of skin and the ridge surrounding the underside of his tip. Your adoring kisses moved down his neck, cherishing every curve and dip of his flesh as he swallowed down what you could only assume was how much he wanted to move this along.

One more kiss, your tongue tracing along his teeth before you sucked at his bottom lip and another spark of need had him pushing down on the armrests so he could better rock his shaft up into your hand even more than he already was.

Five’s thoughts came out in a rush of disjointed words. “Plea- Please. Oh, fuck yes,” he grunted and gasped. 

His chocolatey brown hair fell in his eyes, but it didn’t matter because they were closed so beautifully in his state of total surrender. 

“I have waited so long to have this,” he groaned as you jerked him harder and faster.

“And you’ve waited long enough,” you whispered against his lips before slipping lower, kissing his jaw and quivering stomach muscles along the way as you moved down between his legs.

As your mouth found him, you could only hope that Five felt truly young and free as he looked. You meant it in your story when you said that he deserved this and so much more.

You took him in, letting him push down your throat until it was too much, but even then you fought to hold your mouth around him, encasing his throbbing cock with hollowed cheeks and the flat of your tongue.

You knew you’d given him some form of peace when he anxiously reached back, tugging at his own hair. A warmth started filling your mouth, not stopping as you swallowed the flood of his seed down. His eyes sprung wide, and his mouth dropped open, a guttural sound flying from his lips as his head fell back helplessly against the upholstered chair.  

You knew right then; you’d never forget that beautiful look on his face or the beautiful sounds he’d made. But more than that, you’d never forget the way Five made you feel when he looked at you.

You weren’t one-hundred percent sure that he had never been with a woman like this, but it had been strongly hinted by his brother that may have been the case. Just the fact that he trusted you to be his first brought a whole new depth to this moment. It was so empowering, it felt like pure energy was running through your veins.

Of all people, Five had chosen you.

Through his soft panting, Five looked all sorts of delirious, slouching in his father’s grand chair, with his clothes askew and his dick in your hand as you gave him a few final licks and proceeded to stretch your jaw and shyly smile up at him. Not about to let the fun end, you crawled up in his lap, letting your legs fall through the armrests at his sides so you were straddling him.

Five’s eyes fluttered open and closed as his hands gripped your hips and he gave you a little bounce on his knees. He smiled so happily and sleepily it made your heart skip a beat. Then he said, “Ready for round two, gorgeous?”

“Are you,” you teased, letting your fingers weave together around the backside of his neck as you leaned back so you could admire him in all his post organism, messy haired glory.

“Not yet, but I will be soon,” Five replied and he clearly meant it too. He was still partially hard, and by the way he had just started rubbing your tits and looked totally enthralled with how they were hardening for him, you were pretty sure that with a little more educational exploration of your body it wouldn’t take him long to be ready to go again.

“Five,” you breathed as he plucked and teased your nipples.

“Hmmm,” he sweetly hummed as his mouth found one, sucking on it with increasing pressure until you squeaked, so he resorted again to softly groping and nipping instead.

“What did you say to me before?” you questioned while still recovering from that.

“I asked you to go on a date with me after we finish this little reenactment of yours,” he replied, his words slow and thick. “I need an older woman like you to show me the way of the world and keep me in line and nothing would make me happier than to take you to dinner tonight and tomorrow night and...”

Oh my God.

Gone was the jerk you’d been walking on pins and needles around, and here was a man pouring out his heart to you though you hardly knew each other. To add to your dismay, you could tell he at least partially was lying. There’s no way Five had said all of that while glammering you with his ability to speak in seductive sounding languages. His arrogant little smirk as he lied only added to his power over you, yet you found that all you wanted was to kiss it right off his pretty lying face.

“Well, is it a plan? Will you go on a date with me?” he pushed, while also pushing his hardening shaft into the hand that you had been using to leisurely stroke him.

You laughed at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into. The age differences you were dealing with were complicated to say the least, not to mention that you’d already messed up how normal people went about starting this kind of thing.

Doing your best pouty face, you pretended to be offended. “I am not older than you. Not really”

“No, you are not,” he agreed then frowned too and just like that, you wanted to do anything in your power to make him smile again.

Leaning in, you gave Five the softest, most chaste kiss you could.

“I take that as a yes to both aforementioned questions,” he mumbled, not even breaking your kiss as his arms fastened around you and he started lifting you both out of the chair.

Not stopping, in a matter of seconds, Five had you repositioned on top of the desk with his body lined up between your legs.

With his dick in hand, Five didn’t look at all embarrassed as he jerked himself off as he patiently waited for your answer.

This man had said he wasn’t going to end you but right then you knew he was ruin you for anyone else.

“Yes to both,” you frantically gulped, to which Five instantly started swiping his cockhead across your slicked wet entrance.

 “Ohhh, fuu-ah-auck!” he moaned as he sank forward and your body stretched and clenched around him with each slow dip inside you that he took.

Biting down your own much higher pitched curse, your fingernails went up under his shirt, stripping it and his vest off.

As Five’s entire length disappeared all the way inside you your body folded around him.

You saw stars and Five also looked perfectly shattered by what he must have been feeling and seeing.

Clinging to him, your fingers dug into his back and he carefully began to roll his hips, fucking you deeply at first, only switching to full and more abrupt thrusts the more your body accepted him.    

It was as things were starting to really get moving that Luther walked in.

 “Hey, Five?” he started to question before he saw you and what Five was doing to you and then let out a very startled sounding, “Oh SHIT!”

You were already trying to cover breasts but Five didn’t seem concerned about it at all. With hardly a look up over your shoulder, with his cock still slamming into your cunt as he bucked his strong hips, hitting you just right, he roughly grunted out, “I. Smell. Something. Burning. Arrr-you trying to think again, Luther?”

Five’s larger than life brother was floundering, the heels of his shoes clumsily moving backwards before he ran into the wall.

“I urrr-umm… I felt bad. I mean, we felt bad,” he frantically rambled. “I was coming back to see if you were feeling any better about the naming thing. We can go with your idea if you really want and…and we were hoping you changed your mind about coming out to the karaoke bar with us and…shit. This is awkward!”

Still using your legs for leverage as he fucked you as hard as he could, looking up with a goofy smile you’d never seen him make as he casually blew his hair out of his face, Five spoke as if nothing was amiss at all. “I love the ‘Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys’ name. It’s perfect, just like my smart lady right here said it was, but really Luther… No shit this is awkward for you! Get the fuck out. Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?”

As your body started to tense and then fall into quaking vibrations of uncoiling heat all compounded by flaming embarrassment, just then, Ben rounded the corner, letting out a cynical sounding laugh as his hand flew over his mouth then came down slapping his leg instead. 

“Come on, big guy. Looks like this isn’t the time for a family chat,” he said, guiding his frozen brother out of the room.

Alone again, you were somewhere between orgasmic bliss and an odd sort of mortification filled with the feeling that nothing really mattered but the man whose head had fallen against your chest as he started to spill inside you while muttering praises that made your heart feel like it might burst.

This was nuts. All of this was. But somehow, it made sense. It was perfect and you couldn’t have written it happening any better.

Somehow, with Five and his crazy family, you knew things would always be unexpected and extraordinary, but you were ready for it. The once broken but not beaten wayward boy was proving he was far from giving up and he didn’t need special powers to make your wildest dreams come true. He just needed to be the person he'd always been.

Thanks for reading, lovies. ❤️

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#number five x you #number five x reader #five x reader #five x you #number five fanfiction #number five smut #number five #number five fanart #kaybreezy-on-a03 #number 5 #five hargreeves fanfiction #tua fanfiction #five hargreeves #five hargreeves fanart #smut and fluff #smut with plot #reader insert #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy fanfiction

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:07 pm]

(cw: dad!johnny, gn!reader)

“You know I really thought our beach trip would be a weekend trip and not a week long trip at a beachfront hotel,” You sighed, settling down onto the beach towel you had just laid out under a large beach umbrella.

“What my baby wants, my baby gets,” Johnny smiled, pressing a kiss to the fat cheek of your daughter in his arms.

“She can’t talk John,” you rolled your eyes and extended your arms for her, “how did she tell you she wanted to come to the beach anyway?”

You began rubbing sunblock onto your daughters cheeks, cautious of her eyes and mouth, “We were watching tv and she got really excited when she saw the beach on the screen.”

You scoffed playfully, readjusting her bucket hat so her face was completely covered, “Your daddy spoils you, my little love.”

“Daddy spoils you too, now, let’s get my baby girl in the water!” Johnny smiled brightly, scooping up his daughter before he excitedly made his way to the water.

You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you watched her chubby little legs kick with excitement and heard her faint squeals of happiness.

While you were relaxing in the warm shade and salty breeze, Johnny was busy getting his daughter used to the fresh ocean water that lightly lapped at his feet. He squatted down, holding his daughter beneath her arms and let her feel the water on her feet. She babbled happily, arms waving around while she dug her tiny toes into the wet sand. He sat her down, sitting behind her so she had support, and let her feel the sand in her hands. She loved it, grabbing tiny fistfuls and throwing it around, but he did have to stop her from eating it countless times. Every time a wave would make its way up shore where they sat, her breath would hitch in excitement while she squirmed, readying herself to feel the cool water. It was enough to keep her entertained for at least an hour.

Her hand came down to slap the water, Johnny smiled, hearing her happy baby babbling which was soon interrupted by sudden cry. Johnny checked to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but then he saw it- her hand in her mouth. “Oh, my little love. I know it tastes so yucky doesn’t it?”

He held her to his shoulder, swaying her back and forth as they walked back to where you were sat enjoying the calm beach day. You turned at the sound of your daughter’s cries, reaching for her as Johnny explained what happened. You reached for her water and some of her snacks, hoping that the taste would soon be out of her mouth. “At least she was having fun before she tasted the water,” you laughed lightheartedly, wiping away the streaks of tears from her red cheeks while she drank from her cup of water.

Johnny chuckled with you, “Wait right here.” Then he was dashing off somewhere behind you after he snatched up his wallet from the large tote you had beside you.

You pushed the hair away from your daughter’s face, ticking her to get her to laugh while you held her snack puffs in your palm. You pointed out some dolphins to her in the horizon, repeating the word in the hopes that she would parrot it back, but all you got was her usual baby noises.

In just a few minutes, Johnny returned panting with an armload of different popsicles and ice creams. He fell onto the towel in front of his daughter, startling her before she laughed at the dramatic behavior of her dad. He held up each package he bought, opening the first one that the baby reached for, a strawberry popsicle wrapped in bright yellow and pink, of course.

They shared bites of the cold treat, leaving you to have your pick of the leftovers. You all ate quietly, enjoying the sound of the crashing waves on the shore and other families enjoying the beach as well. You occasionally heard a soft ‘ahhhh’ as Johnny moved to feed your daughter again or a hum of approval from the baby sat between your outstretched legs.

“All done, little love. Did you like it?” Johnny asks the baby, pressing a kiss to her forehead while he wipes away the remaining red syrup around her mouth.

“We brought her food, it’s in the bag,” you tell Johnny, watching your daughter rub at her eyes with a closed fist.

You pulled her into your arms rocking her back and forth to lull her to sleep, “I didn’t want her fun time at the beach to be ruined by one bad moment. I had to make it up for my baby girl.”

“I would sure hope not, we've got 5 days left here. You spoil her John,” you sigh, tearing your eyes away from the waves to make eye contact with your husband who was still laying in front of you.

He laughed loudly, quickly muffling his laugh when you gave him a stern look, “Says you. Remind me again, was it you or me who had to go out and buy our daughter, who has never been in a body of water outside the bathtub, six new bathing suits?”

You averted your gaze to your daughter peacefully asleep in your arms, long eyelashes brushing the tops of her chubby cheeks. “Fine, we both spoil her.”

“And I spoil you both, you deserve it, my love.”

“We love you John, now let’s get little love out of her wet clothes,” you smiled softly, leaning forward to kiss Johnny gently before you stood up and grabbed your tote.

Johnny shook out the beach towel and followed behind you, “Maybe tomorrow she can try floating in the water, I got her some floaties.”

“Not happening John.” You told him in a voice that told him you were not to be argued with. Yeah, no floating for little love after all.

+BONUS

priv.suhjohnny

Liked by y/nsuh, priv.leemark, priv_ttyong, and 122 others

priv.suhjohnny it was all fun and games until little love tasted the water

leedonghyuck_priv i miss little love😭😭

y/nsuh we miss you hyuck

priv.leemark look at those tiny toes🥺🥰

priv.suhjohnny bro please keep that weird shit to yourself✋

jjaehyun.private Mark😳

leedonghyuck_priv bro…

priv_moon_taeil bro…

y/nsuh bro…

priv.leemark Y/N NOT YOU TOO😫

-

A/N: did you guys like the ig post at the end? this one was really fun to write, enjoy!

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny fluff #johnny blurb #johnny timestamps #johnny scenarios

[superluver]

hellooooo there i just discovered your blog! I see that requests are open and i’d like to request vacation with gojo and reader and megumi and tsumiki 🫶🫶🫶

Summertime Giggles

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

wc:1315 | cw: FEM!Reader, cursing, Kid Megumi is kinda ooc, boobies, pre!established relationship, fluff, crackfic kinda

Description: Gojo being an ass while you four are at the beach.

Characters: Megumi Fushiguro, Tsumiki Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo

I am so so so so so so so sorry anonny, I've been stalling on your request forgive me forgive me. 🙏 well, here it is. Tell me if this isn't what you were looking for and you can request me again 😋😋😋

“Satoru, where is the sunscreen?”

You're rustling through the woven beach bag, passing through an excessive amount of sunglasses, a beach towel, a hat, chips?!

“Huh? It’s in the bag.” He answers confidently, whistling with his tinted glasses on as he leaned in the chair, legs out, arms behind his head, relaxing in the shade brought by the large umbrella.

In your hand is a spray sunscreen, but the lotion is nowhere to be found.

“You didn't put it in here.”

He gawks at you, feigning innocence with a hurt expression. “Of course I did, baby!” He pouts in his seat, Megumi glancing at him as you find a spray. The boy’s arm is out as you spray it. Nlt caring if sunscreen gets in his mouth, he rats out, “When you told him he never got off the couch.”

“Hey now, that’s not true,”

You kept a gentle smile on your face, continuing to spray the boy down before slipping on his floaties and spraying down Tsumiki.

“Right Tsumiki? I got up, right?”

Tsumiki sheepishly smiles, you spraying her legs with that scary smile. “Well.. I don’t really remember..”

Everyone in this household knows that when Tsumiki 'doesn't remember,’ that’s her way of saying she does and Satoru, in fact, did not listen.

You finish on Tsumiki, spraying her face and ears quickly before turning to Satoru. The can is in your hands, smile stiff.

“Satoru, your turn.” You tell him in a sickly sweet tone. He shudders, eyes wide as he robotically makes his way towards you.

He sits in front of you, bare back facing you as you spray him auddenly.

He yelps, infinity off and hold liauid hittinf him under the warm raya of the sun. “S’ coLD!”

You say nothing, smiling as you spray his stomach. His abs flex before he finally gets up, standing asay form you. His hand out(from a distance). “Just hand it here.”

Your head tilts, a clueless expression on ylur face. “But I’m almost done?” You tell him, almost confused.

His eyes dilate at your face. ‘So cute’

Your deer like eyes reeling him back in, not even realizing your shaking up the can. His glasses long gone, left on his seat. “Hold your breath.” You say quickly, and his eyes go wide.

“What—?” He says, only to be cut off by the intense sprays of sunscreen into his face. He coughs loudly, waving his hands around as you continue your assault, spraying him until he can is near empty.

He stands up and back away frkm you, still coughing.

“You’re not a child, come back here.” You command him. He ignores you, looking out into the ocean. Megumi watches the way his eyss light up a little more than usual, an idea blasting through his head. Faster than infinite void.

Tsumiki sees him too, watching him turn back to you, whi kept the smile on your face until you met his own mischievous expression.

“Sweetcheeks,” he draws out that silly pet name, taking a hard step towards you. The sand is unmoving. His infinity was on, reduring you defenseless while he had what you would call, a damn suit of armor.

You shuffle back, throwing the can at his head. It thunks on his infinity, bouncing off and rolling away.

“Go away!” You shouted, eyes wide with fear. A playful shadow looms over his face, only his piercing eyes visible. His hands are up in the air, twitching ad you continue shuffling back in the sand until your back hits his seat. With no where to run, you squeak, hands covering your head as he lunges at you, infinity off as he takes you in his arms. (He’s holding you like a sack of potatoes).

“NO!” You scream, slapping his back.

You’re like a feather on his shoulder, your hits are like waves of wind.

He laughs while running into the water. Along the way you find yourself laughing as well between your shouts, he’s waist deep while you’re not wet yet, feet tickling the water before he counts down. Your laugher finally stops.

“Three…”

Your eyes wide, grip even harder on him. Your position is adjusted; your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked on his neck, face full of panic.

From the shore, Tsumiki is laughing, waving at yhe two of you. Hell, even Megumi, the stone cold freak as Satoru refers him, is giggling to himself.

“Two…”

“SATORU! Satoru! Satoru..”

Your voice going from a shout to a sweet call, arms loosening around his neck, your hands make their way to his shoulders, giving him a snug squeeze. “Toru, the love of my life. Future husband, future father to my kids,”

You trail ln, and his dxpression is smug. Eyebrows raised, lips lressed in a tight smile.

“Keep going…”

“You are the best thing thats ever—”

“Too basic,” he says just as fast, dropping you into the water. You didn’t even realize it was so deep, the water reaching just below your breasts.

Your coughing, trying to get up, but Satoru keeps lushing you back down.

“What the— what gives?!” You try to shout, moving the now wet hair from your face, voice hoarse from previous shouting and salt water stuck in your throat.

He gets really clise to your face, body submerged hnder the crystal blue water. His voice soft in whisper, he tells you, “Well, unless you want to get charged with public indecency, I suggest you get that,” his eyes glance down, “fixed.”

“What?” You mutter, looking down at yourself. You hugged Satoru a little too quickly. His head leans back, laughter bubbling from the back of his throat.

“HAHA!” He laughs, one of his large hands on your back, pressing your breasts onto his chest, the other covering his eyes.

When the laughter subsides, his hand fiddling behind your neck, fingers brushing you every now and then as he retightens the Bikini top, still giggling every now and then.

“Alright babe, it’s fixed.”

You look up at him, his big fat head is covering the sun, but he just looks so graceful. His smile is bright, and big. His eyes are uncovered, gleaming a bright blue. They’re crinkled as they stare down at you, smiling so bright that it hurts.

“Ah, what a gentleman—for once..” you mutter under your breath, your hands on his shoulders, pressing him down. He leans, and you get on your tippy toes in the water, placing a kiss on his cheek.

He was expecting one on the lips, cheek kisses are good though. They make him feel fuzzy.

Flabbergasted, he stands looking at you, watching you as you trudge away in the water back to the kids. Megumi is laughing with Tsumiki, and this might be the only time, Satoru thinks, the only time you guys would see him act as a kid.

He watches as you pick Megumi up, whispering something in his ear while Tsumiki stands close, watching as you tell her something slightly different than what you told the younger boy. The three of you lived in a different world from the girl who couldn't see curses. She had no idea of their existence, and it would stay that way.

Megumi on your hip, he watches as you wave at him. You looked as though you were telling him you come over, so he begins his trudge over to the three of you.

He watched you mutter something to Tsumiki, and she giggles, covering her mouth. Before Satoru shouts at them to figure out what was happening, the Sun disappears. A large wave of water looms over him, and he can only stand and watch in terror as it comes crashing down on him.

“Uh oh.” He mumbles, before getting pummeled by large waves of water.

The last thing he recalls hearing is the laughter escaping your mouths.

As long as you guys were happy, he guesses.

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