#its not a big flat thankfully

[what-are-even-humans]

Hey so im moving out of my flat tomorrow and due to my university* being Awful at Admin and me having to spend a lot of time and energy fixing shit, I have to pack down essentially my entire flat in one night. Anyone got any tips for how you pack quickly?

*technically former. I graduated and will only ever return for a) a brief stint as an advisor in a subject I aided in developing and b) the residency meet-up in like 9 months

[knightofleo]

Gatekeeper Gostoc up in Stormveil trying to beat his Godrick-dribbling record when suddenly the very stars drop from the sky and blows Limgrave a brand new hole:

[b0nten]

HOW ARE BABIES MADE?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.

RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”

meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”

SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.

TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”

KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.

if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.

IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.

[powerfultenderness]

Bed

Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.

Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)

Rated: T+

A/N: Just some fluff. 

Word count: 2947

[Neighbor König masterlist]

It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 

That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 

“Excuse me,” he started in German.

You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 

With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 

He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 

You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 

He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 

Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 

You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 

You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.

“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.

He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”

“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 

Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”

“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 

“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 

You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 

“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   

“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.

He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.

“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 

You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”

“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.

“Huh?”

He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 

“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 

You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 

You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 

König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 

You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.

Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 

“You won’t.”

You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 

His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 

“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 

Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 

He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 

With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 

As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 

“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 

Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 

“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 

Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 

Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 

You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 

“Now.”

“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”

He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 

Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 

“No.”

You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 

He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.

205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 

The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.

He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 

Oh. “I’m sorry.” 

He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 

You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 

Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 

He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 

There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.

You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 

“Oh. Sure.” 

You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 

Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.

“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 

Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  

Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 

You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 

He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 

You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 

He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 

The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 

You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.

“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 

“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.

His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  

And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 

He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.

-

You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-

Wait!

You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.

You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.

“König?” 

“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.

You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.

“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.

“Yes.” 

“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”

“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.

You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 

“No, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”

“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.

You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”

“Me?”

“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”

“You like my bed?” 

“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 

The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 

“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail. 

[nosferatuv]

gurl the idea of Ellie taking you for a jog as an excuse to gill u up with water. making sure u stop to drink plenty during the jog and definitely after. I just know once r has drank enough, Ellie would pushing push on r's tummy and twase them. "You gonna piss urself babe? really?" jusy push and push on r's tummy

female reader x ellie williams

"gotta stay hydrated, baby."

is what ellie said. what she insisted on, filling one of those obnoxiously big water bottles with motivational phrases to the brim and constantly reminding you to take gulps as you jogged along the neighbourhood together.

for your health, of course... stay hydrated...

you were totally fine at first. but the more you drank, the more fuller you feel. and suddenly, you cant keep up. you cant hold it.

you call out behind her, the empty street making your voice echo. "els, i cant anymore." you whine, slowing to a stop. ellie huffs a laugh that you fail to hear in your distressed state.

she halts and turns to look at you with a very unimpressed look.

she sighs dramatically, slamming her feet against the pavement as she walks slowly towards you, eyeing the now empty water bottle in your hand. "you giving up on me already?"

you groan, squeezing your thighs together in hope to ease the pressure in your bladder as you shake your head. "no, i just," you look around the, thankfully, still empty streets, and then back at her. "i need to pee..."

her expression is playful and unserious, and you just frown. "oh, you need to pee?" she thinks its kinda cute, the way you shift your weight uncomfortably and bite your lip.

her hand strokes up the side of your thigh, "how bad?"

"bad, ellie. can we please go home?"

she hums, looking down to where her fingers now toy with the waistband of your pants. "oh dont be like that, baby. we're getting our exercise, right?"

you dont realise that shes fucking with you, all you can focus on is trying to not to wet yourself outside— three streets away from home.

"just hold it."

you furrow your eyebrows, "hold it?" you shake your head. "i cant. please ellie."

maybe she would of if it wasnt so entertaining, took you home and watch you disappear to the bathroom like an honourable girlfriend. but wheres the fun in that? instead she lays her hand flat against your abdomen, pushing down on your tummy

your breath gets caught in your throat and you reach down to grab her wrist, the sudden pressure taking you by surprise.

you scold her, warning that if she does that youre gonna pee. you certainly dont want that, but maybe ellie does. maybe this was the plan all along— of course, that has yet to click in your head.

she just laughs at you, "whats wrong, huh? you gonna piss yourself, baby?"

youre humiliated already, your face rising in temperature at her teasing. you whimper, nails digging into her tattooed forearm as she applies more pressure on your stomach, no sympathy in her green eyes

you cant ignore or deny the warmth that floods your cunt, but you can certainly feel ashamed of it. oh, but youre confused. why does the embarrassment of soaking yourself give you a rush? why do you want to give ellie what she so clearly wants?

and how could you ever deny ellie williams?

[suugarbabe]

omg ok ok ok, I love your Sirius, so, I'm wondering if you could write a sirius x fem!reader who is maybe the grumpy to his sunshine? he's the one who is always super flirty and outgoing and the life of the party, and she would sort of rather die but begrudgingly puts up with it for him? OH but maybe one day she has a bad day and he gets to see a softer side of her 🥹 IDK idk I'm too excited to request this is so bad sorry my love xoxoxoxo kisses for youuuu

I am *living* for this okay. l i v i n g. because Sirius is my sunshine to my grumpy. I am the grumpy reader. okay let’s do this baby. kiss kiss kiss yoooou <3

Opposites attract right? At least that’s what others seemed to deem as the explanation for your relationship. Sirius was in a category all his own as far as you were concerned, but that category was nearly the opposite of where people would place you. Sirius was a people person, it came so easily to him it was like he never even had to try. It annoyed you to no fucking end when you first met him.

Being a descendent of the most noble and ancient House of Black had its advantages. Like incredibly sharp cheekbones, beautiful alabaster skin that contrasted perfectly with onyx locks and eyes so deep and blue you could drown in them. Sirius exuded this energy that seemed to pull people towards him; like he had his own force field. He could walk into a room and everything shifted, like he breathed extra life into the area and everyone was desperate to live.

Most people when asked about you would say you were…short-tempered. Your housemates tended to steer clear of your presence. Which was fine with you because you were easily annoyed by most of them. Ravenclaws were known for being know-it-alls and truthfully you found it rather repugnant. Thankfully you had Pandora as company. Usually her overly sweet demeanor would drive you insane, but you knew more than the rest. Being a Rosier sorted into Ravenclaw essentially meant she was the black sheep of her family. But that seemed to be your soft spot.

Pandora would tease that this was why you started falling for Sirius. Despite your more grumpy demeanor, you were never quite as grumpy when it came to Sirius. Hearing the ins and outs of what was going on over breaks from Pan made you want to take care of him.

The first time Sirius brought you around the rest of the marauders it was not without sideways glances. “Er, Pads, you seemed to have picked up a shadow,” James nodded towards your frame just behind Sirius. “Sod off, Potter,” you’d grumbled, Sirius’s palm big and flat against your back moving in slow circles. “S’alright love, he’s just teasing. Be nice, Prongs or she’ll hex you into next week and I won’t be able to stop her.”

“Not that you’d try to stop her, would ya mate. I’m Remus, but all these miserable gits call me Moony,” Remus gave a small fingered wave as he plopped onto the couch ceremoniously. He would eventually turn into the one that’d help you gang up on Sirius, if ever needed.

On this particular night, though, you were feeling just…down. It wasn’t often you felt like this, despite outward appearances. However when this feeling did hit you, there was only one person that could fully get you out of it. You knew that the Gryffindors were having their annual Halloween party. Which meant if you wanted to find Sirius that’s where he’d be.

You had of course agreed to come to the party ages ago; much to do with Sirius begging and pouting his pretty pink lips and sucking you in with his pretty blue eyes. Sirius had insisted that costumes were required, “Even for an angel like yourself” which earned him a particularly large eye roll. Thus, you threw on some fishnet tights and a black minidress with your signature black boots. Atop your head a small pair of black cat ears, thanks to Pandoras charm work.

She was dressed as an actual angel, charmed halo floating above her nearly white blonde locks. Any muggle would think they were truly hallucinating if they would have seen her. You greeted the fat lady with the password, “Hiddlypunks,” and she swung open. Within the first few steps one would be none the wiser. But two steps into the commonroom and the barrier was broken, music and singing and murmuring filling the room.

“Drinks yes? Please yes,” you nodded at Pandora who found her way to to the drink table to create what you were hoping were very strong concoctions. You didn’t need to look around in order to find him. That magnetic pull leading you closer and closer until you heard the boisterous laugh of Sirius Black. You were quiet in your approach, not drawing any attention to yourself on purpose. Even though you yearned for his touch you knew how much he enjoyed entertaining and didn’t want to interrupt.

Remus spots you of course, the observant bastard. He throws a playful wink in your direction; you responding with a middle finger and a forced smile. Sirius is in the middle of recalling “a truly amazing play, great play” from the last quidditch match, but Remus’s low chuckle from your display of affection towards him causes your boyfriend to turn around in search of who could have possibly pulled attention away from him.

His furrowed brows disperse as you catch his sights and smile lights his face, “Well, hello there, Kitten.” You give a weak smile in response, “Hi Siri.” His brows are furrowed once more. The others try to greet you but immediately you’re swept away to a farther corner of the room. Sirius swirls his wand around you both, muttering a quick muffliato, coating you both in silence. “Okay, out with it what’s wrong?” Sirius’s hands were laid gently on your waist, head dipped down to force your avoidant eyes to keep contact with his. “Come now, pet. You know I can’t do anything without knowing what’s wrong,” he urged, giving your waist a small squeeze.

You met his eyes and yours immediately began to brim with tears. In an instant Sirius has engulfed you, one hand grasping your head and holding you close to his chest while the other wraps around your back, squeezing you as close to him as possible and hoping the pressure of his pull is soothing. His heart breaks ever so slightly at the muffled sobs against him. Your emotions seem to be everywhere but embarrassment is toping the list as you begin to pull away, aggressively wiping your face with the heel of your palms, hoping no one but Sirius is noticing you in this state.

"I-I'm sorry Siri, 've just..." you trailed off, choked breaths causing your intake of air to stutter. Sirius's touch has yet to cease, one hand cupping your cheek gently while the other finds solace in the dip of your waist, "Rough day, love?" You nod once, looking to the ceiling and willing any tears to fall back into your head instead of trailing down your face. "Alright, let's go," his head tilts towards the spiral staircase that would lead to his dorm.

You sniffle quickly, shaking your head, "N-no, I'll be okay. I'm not going to take you away from the party, Siri. Not gonna steal you from your friends like that." Sirius can't help but scoff, "Fuck my friends." You laugh a little at his brashness and the sound makes Sirius grin again, "There you are, love." He takes a quick peek over his shoulder, "Now. Let's just go tell the others we're going up, Remus will make sure we're left alone for a good few hours then, hmm?"

You nod, agreeing, knowing that there's no use in arguing with Sirius when he's made up his mind. His fingers laced with yours and the cool feeling of his rings are such a contrast the the heat in your body that it's calming. He gives your hand an extra squeeze as you approach the group. You decide to try and stay hidden behind Sirius, almost burying your face against his shoulder blade, barely peeking one eye out to see the others.

Sirius explains that he's feeling tired and wants to go back to the room with you. James does not look convinced in the slightest. He looks even more confused by your seemingly shy and reserved demeanor. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look so...vulnerable. Remus is the only person you make eye contact with and he gives you a simple wink and a nod. The reassurance from the smallest action making you sigh in relief.

It's almost like Sirius can feel you relax slightly, turning to you and asking if you're ready to go. You give a feeble nod and a shy wave to the others, most of which look a little skeptical but say no protests in return.

When you make it to his dorm Sirius immediately goes to his trunk, pulling out his favorite concert tee and handing it to you. You take off your outfit slowly, pulling his shirt over your head and letting it consume you, the additional scent of Sirius now enveloping your body and adding to your relief. Sirius changes himself and then pulls back the duvet, "In you go, pet."

You oblige, going and getting comfortable on your back. Sirius climbs in after you, crawling over your form and placing two soft kisses on either apple of your cheek before giving you the most gentle yet firm kiss. He rests his head against yours, asking you almost in a whisper, "D'you wanna talk about it?"

"No," your response so soft it would've been missed had it not been only you two in the room, "Will you just...lay on me?" Sirius kissed you softly once more, scooching down just enough to lay his head on your chest. He wrapped his arms around you, relaxing himself and allowing his full weight to now lay on top of you. The weight of your boyfriend was the grounding you needed, your breathing now finally able to even out.

[klausysworld]

Here's an idea if you are taking any suggestion!

Niklaus has turned due to the full moon and his wolf wants to run about and the wolf comes into the house and has sex with Klaus' girl (with knotting and everything). Klaus transforms back in his human form, still knotted to her though, and cares for his girl who has fallen into her little space! With all the daddy-ness if possible! ❤️

Daddy’s Wolf

Klaus didn’t have to turn.

However his wolf was adamant he would turn on a full moon. Thankfully so did the rest of the wolves in New Orleans.

There was one little wolf in particular that Klaus’s wolf had taken a fancy to. She was an untriggered werewolf but that didn’t matter. She lived out in the bayou but in a sweet little cottage that Klaus had payed for on her behalf. He had wanted her closer to the quater but she wanted to stay in nature, her wolf needed the calmness of the forest and if that’s what she wanted that that’s what he’d give her. Besides it meant that she was out of the way and safe. But it also meant that he didn’t visit her as often as he would like.

That didn’t sit well with his wolf at all.

So when the full moon came, it made sure to push forward. Klaus eventually gave in and turned, decided there was no harm in releasing some tension for the night.

And with that he found himself racing through the woods, only the desire for her present in his mind.

Paws thudded against the leaves causing a soft rustle sound to drift amongst the breeze. His tongue hung from his mouth in a gentle pant as he made his way between trees. He was momentarily distracted as a deer caught his eyes and his train of thought was cut off. He hunted the animal down instead, leaping over bushes and skidding round logs. Klaus could feel the thrill of the chase, the fulfilment of his predatory instincts taking what they wanted.

However just as he caught up with his prey, his ears perked. His movements came to a stop and the deer sprinted off. He could hear muffled chatter in the distance and followed it until he found the familiar pathway. His tail wagged immediately and he trotted up to Y/n’s cottage. The TV was visible from her window and he smiled inside.

Eagerly he called for her, his claws scraped at her doorway and his body tried to push it open. Eventually she came and opened it up, she was dressed up in her little clothes making his tail wag harder.

“Daddy?” She mumbled quietly “is that you?” She asked, peeking through the gap. He yipped in response and forced his way inside. His back paw kicked the door shut and he tugged at her sleeve gently. Y/n followed his pull without resistance and went back to the sofa with him to watch her show. His wolf snuggled up with her, licking her cheek gently. Y/n nuzzled against his chest and smiled “Hi Klaus��� she whispered, caressing his fur.

The wolf’s tail beat against the cushions as she played with his fur and looked up at him with those big sweet eyes. Y/n leant up and kissed his fluffy cheek softly with a giggle. He let out a playful growl and licked her face back.

Y/n’s nose scrunched up and she wiped his kiss away making the wolf huff and lick her again, spreading his scent across her skin.

Klaus briefly felt his mind go blank, the animal in him taking over as he began to lap at her skin. His eyes went nearly black as the wolf took over and dragged its canines down her throat. Y/n let out a gasp and tried to push his face away but he wouldn’t budge. It was only when his teeth pieced her skin and she let out a whimper that Klaus’s vision came back and he realised that he’d bitten her.

When she noticed his ears fall flat and a soft whine to leave him she told him it was okay.

Sometimes his wolf got a little possessive but he never meant any harm. She pet his head gently and kissed his front legs and chest lightly. Klaus let out a happy trill and stood up, circling her a few time before laying down around her little body.

Y/n laid against him for a while, her eyes closed and she just listened to the TV in the background. Klaus’s chest moved up and down gently as he breathed, his eyes stayed on her pretty face.

Klaus’s wolf couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and joy as his girl snuggled against him. Without realising it, his wolf would take over every now and then, just nuzzling her hair and tightening his hold before Klaus could realise that he’d lost control. The only issue with it was that Klaus had much more control over his desires and his wolf didn’t.

Which was why when Klaus came to, he realised how his wolf was grinding against his sweet Y/n. Klaus quickly forced himself to stop and clenched his jaw as his hips threatened to buck against his will.

Y/n was deep into her little space and enjoying her daddy's affection and touches, she loved his wolfy very much and always wanted to snuggle and play. A few times in the past his wolf would lick her sweet pussy and she would suckle on his cock but he had never fully fucked her in this form. He teased that one day he would and little Y/n would giggle and start to get needy and whiny until her daddy would ravish her with promises of a rough and wild night in the future.

So when she felt his wolf rubbing against her, she arched into the touch. A whine left her when he stopped moving and her head went back to look at him.

"Daddy" She mewled, her lips all pouty making his wolf puff his chest out. His fur stood on edge and his muzzle pressed to the crook of her neck, sniffing her skin before letting his tongue out to taste it.

Before he could help it, his paws where digging into her sides and his wolf was borderline humping his sweet girl. Y/n giggled and crawled out from under him making a suppressed growl rumble in his chest.

Y/n tutted and pushed him onto his back making his tail wag and his head cock to the side. She climbed on top of him, snuggling into his chest and twisting his fur between her fingers.

Klaus considered just turning back and ravishing her right their on the couch but his wolf wouldn't let him. Klaus felt his consciousness fading in and out as his wolf bucked his hips up and Y/n squealed.

"Bad Daddy" She whispered as she brought her hand down to stroke his overly obvious erection. She smiled and rest her head on his chest whilst watching his cock leak in her hand.

Klaus swallowed down a howl as she shimmied around so she could sink down on his cock.

"Mmm Daddy" She mumbled as she pushed her hips back slowly, letting her pussy stretch around his thickness and accommodate his length. "So big" She uttered, her lashes fluttering and eyes locking with his.

Klaus's jaw hung open in a pant as he watched her push down on his chest and roll her hips. She moaned sweetly at the feel of him filling her so perfectly. Her body slide over his at a gradual pace, her hands gripping his fur while her ass bounced against his pelvis.

A series of embarrassing whines left Klaus's wolf as he felt her speed up, her breathing getting heavier and her pussy clenching all the time.

"Mmm love Daddy's wolfy" She moaned, tugging on his hairs and bouncing as fast as she could before stopping completely.

It made Klaus groan and throw his head back. His cock ached and throbbed inside her. He could feel her pussy pulsing so he didn't understand why she stopped. But he wasn't in much of a position to complain.

Y/n snuggled back against him, panting softly against his neck and closing her eyes in an attempt to conserve her energy. Little Y/n got tired especially fast, despite her poor pussy desperate for her to keep bouncing.

"I'm sorry Daddy" She whispered and Klaus's ears went back again. He didn't want her to be sorry. He licked the side of her face lovingly and wrapped his arms around her body. His paws folded over each other to fix his hold on her so that his hips may thrust up into her effectively.

She lifted her head back so that she could kiss his neck and behind his ear as he did all the work. Sounds tumbled from his mouth as his wolf took over again and bucked up roughly. Each movement was hard and unforgiving as her entire body jolted up and her legs spread wide over his lap.

He growled when he felt his cock swelling even more than usual. His wolf knew what it needed to do but he had to get her properly.

Y/n cried out when his cock slid out of her and he got up, stepping over her and circling her sore body until she pulled herself to the arm of the couch so that he could get behind her. Her teeth sunk down against her bottom lip when he mounted her, his paws grabbing onto her hips and his body towering over hers. Her eyes closed and she imagined what he would say to her if he were able to before he sheathed himself inside her.

Her body was pushed forward and against the sofa as he got a steady grip on her and his hips started. His wolf was ecstatic about his positioning as he panted and growled out his appreciation for her soft, tight body.

"Daddy" She moaned softly and he felt his cock swell. Her whines were muffled as she bit down on her lip. Her hands clung to the fabric of the chair whilst her back arched to feel him hit that spot inside her just right. "Please" She whimpered and he groaned, deeply. "Please breed me Daddy" Y/n begged and Klaus's wolf went haywire.

Her pussy was pounded relentlessly and his knot began to form fully. The base of his cock swelled, his animalistic needs urging him to shove it inside her. He needed her, he needed to fill her with his seed, his babies.

Both their bodies shook with ecstasy when they felt him lock inside her. Her hands clung to the couch, mouth panting and sweat dripping. She whined when she tried to move but he wouldn't or couldn't pull out.

He licked over her shoulder gently, soothing her senses until she was lost to sleep. Klaus wasn't expecting his wolf to give in and turn back whilst still inside her but he was glad to be in his original form.

Gentle kisses were pressed to the back of her neck whilst her tried and failed to get his cock out of her. He hadn't thought that his knot would stay in human form but it had. It wasn't much of an issue as he moved them both upstairs and managed to turn her around so she was facing him whilst he gently wiped her clean with the babywipes in his drawer.

She whined when she woke to his touch and he gently tried to ease her back to sleep.

"Daddy" She whimpered and he kissed her temple softly.

"Yes little one, I'm here." He whispered and she nuzzled into his chest. "You were such a good girl" He praised while stroking her hair. "Daddy and his wolf are so proud of you, I'm gonna take such good care of you"

"Me and our babies?" She muttered with a yawn and he groaned softly.

"Yes babygirl. You and all our babies."

[fluffmothy]

Tentacle Vacation Fun

The inspiration for this piece came from a cheesy nsfw audio I listened to recently that did something to my neurons.

Tw: egg preg and monster fucking

This fantasy starts as I’m chilling in a secluded sandy cove with a portion of flat rocky shore I can stand on. The regular beaches are normally packed with people for the summer, so I wanted a calmer experience for summer vacation. I’m wearing an open-backed one-piece swimsuit with a cropped short sleeve over it to complete the look.

As I’m walking over the rocky shore watching crabs scuttle, one of them crawls over this weird vine of what looks like a mix of kelp and octopus tentacle. I stop to observe it cause I’ve never seen a type of kelp like this, and I love marine life, so I’m excited to learn about something new. Since it looks like it has suction cups, I don’t know if it’s alive or not, so I poke it with a stick. No response. I get bolder and poke it with my finger. No response again. Now convinced that it’s just some weird kelp, I pick it up to observe it. The rest of its mass descends off the shore and into the water, so I give it a tug to try and dislodge it.

Big mistake (depending on who you ask)

It suddenly springs to life, entangling my wrists and ankles. It wraps around my arms, thighs, and torso, ensuring that I can’t escape. The tentacles start exploring my body as I’m now lying on the rock, bewildered and scared. They rip off the cropped shirt and slip into my swimsuit through the back. The tendrils rub up and down my stomach and ribs before quickly swiping over my nipples. I let out a whiny yelp, and this catches the beast’s attention as it starts doing it again and again and again. It’s playing with my nipples as it pokes and prods at other parts of my body, seeing what draws a reaction out of me.

A tentacle slips over my clothed cunt and starts focusing its attention there, rubbing over my folds and drawing out louder moans with the help of the tentacles now tugging at my nipples (Revenge for before) It’s just groping me for what feels like hours, teasing me and making me wetter. Sometime during its torment, the tentacles feel slicker as they begin secreting this weird blue slime and rubbing it into my skin. My body starts heating up and my mind feels a bit fuzzier. In my desperate moaning, a tentacle uses this opening to slip into my mouth and pour more slime down my throat. It all feels so good and overstimulating. Its onslaught is so rough, but it treats me so sweetly and I’m enjoying its touch. This thing is going to ruin me.

After what it deems is enough time, the monster raises my wrists above my head and spreads my legs further apart. It uses another tentacle to grab the crotch of my swimsuit and move it to the side, exposing me. Suddenly, another tentacle, thicker than the ones holding me and with a pointed but dull tip, appears and approaches my cunt. I start struggling, but the monster keeps its hold. The tendrils binding me heat up and pulsate with an almost comforting warmth. It pours more slime down my throat as it enters me, the stretch is surprisingly less painful due to the wetness and a little help from the dizzying slime, but there is still a pinch with the new feeling.

It doesn’t wait for me to adjust but thankfully isn’t too harsh with me, starting with a slow rhythmic pace, not reaching too deep. As time passes, the pain goes away and is replaced by ecstasy. I lost my virginity to this monster… and I’m loving it. The tentacles on my nipples are replaced by ones with suction cups, they latch on with incredible strength. After some time, it picks up the pace, ramming into me as I start groaning and panting from the roughness. In my hazy state, I start sucking on the tentacle in my mouth with fervor, crying from how good it feels and how overwhelmed I am. Looking down, you can see the bumps the tentacles make in my swimsuit, the ones over my nipples, the ones holding my waist, and the bump of the tentacle pushing into my cunt through my stomach.

It removes itself from my mouth and another unseen tentacle approaches my ass and prods at my hole. It’s slimmer than the rest but still enough to create a stretch. It secrets more slime as it prods and slowly slips in. It starts thrusting at a moderate pace compared to the rapid thrusting of the one in my pussy, it’s getting hard to focus on anything at that point. The tentacle in my cunt starts pounding into me and heating up and throbbing. Next thing you know, it spills inside me. There’s so much cum that it gushes out and stretches my stomach a little. There’s a brief pause where I’m able to catch my breath before it starts back up again with its rapid thrusting.

It spends the next few hours like this, fucking me in various ways and at various speeds, sticking multiple tentacles in my holes at a time, and cumming in every hole. Next thing I know, it's sundown and my stomach is distended with its cum, but it’s still going with as much fervor as before. It’s untangled its tentacles from around me except for a few to hold me and caress my sides, after all, I’ve come to enjoy this experience so much, I’m in no rush to get away. I’m sucking on another tentacle with two fucking my cunt as they suddenly speed up and start ramming against my cervix. They’re getting rougher than before, and I start screaming against the one in my mouth. One of them finally pushes past my cervix, and a smaller tentacle unsheathes itself from inside and writhes around in my womb. I squirt and cum with a scream as it beats against my walls and the other continues its thrusts. I’ve only barely retained sense after its onslaught, despite the aphrodisiac effects of its slime, but this might make me lose what little is left of it.

Both tentacles are unbearably hot as the one in my womb finally stops thrusting and cums in me. It’s so warm and thick, it comes as a comfort after such sudden rough treatment. The comfort is short-lived as the other breaches my cervix alongside the first, stretching me wide. This one doesn’t cum, but large rhythmic bumps appear in its tubed length, approaching me. Once the first one approaches my entrance, it stretches my cunt further as it pushes its way inside and into my womb. As it enters my womb, I gain a new pressure and weight in my gut. Did it just place something inside of me? Are these… eggs? (They are) I struggle to pay attention as the sheer pressure makes my head fuzzy. Next thing I know, I’m weighed down by 15 large eggs in my womb, stretching me out to make me look like I’m 5 months along. The tentacles finally release me and back away towards the shore’s edge but stay there as if watching me.

I should run, I should go get help since I was just impregnated by an actual monster, but I can’t bring myself to be alarmed. It felt so good, and my body is still so warm. This monster was so kind and gave me so much pleasure. It might be the weird slime talking, but I can only think of making sure these eggs are hatched and taken care of.

This monster has ruined me.

[honourablejester]

It’s weird how mundanely different everyone’s experience of ‘the sea’ is.

I remember as a young kid reading one of the Famous Five books and the characters talk about ‘swimming out past the waves’ for a more leisurely swim. And I was in absolute awe of this, because the beach I swam at as a kid is basically an inlet between two headlands, it has an incredibly long gradual incline up towards the beach, and the tide drives water directly in. The difference between high and low tides is like quarter of a mile, and it’s waves all the way up. So you could swim past the waves when the tide is all the way out, sure, maybe, but if the tide is in? That’s like quarter to half a mile of a hard swim just to get to your ‘swim’. So I was looking at these kids in this book thinking ‘wow, you guys are hardcore’.

And then we started swimming at a different beach much later on, and it basically has no waves. It’s fully sheltered in the lee of a headland from the main currents/weather for the area, and it’s flat as a pond. Going out past the waves involves wading out five feet. So, ah. Depending on the geography of the beach the Famous Five were on? They might well have been hardcore. Or they might have had 15ft to go to get past the breakers.

I’m thinking about this because I’ve been watching clips of Bondi Rescue on youtube, and Bondi appears to be a surfer beach with big surf and several permanent to semi-permanent rip currents. And there are people going out in it who can’t swim, and they’re paddling around in rip currents in those inflatable pool rings, you know the pool flamingo things? And it baffles me. But then I remember that … well, everyone’s experience of ‘the sea’ is different. Maybe their home beach was flat as a pond because it was sheltered by a headland, and those pool things are perfectly feasible there.

I still would never in a million years go anywhere near the sea in them myself. You can’t swim in those. They pin your arms up. Yeah, you float, but you also get picked up by any motion in the water whatsoever and put wherever it wants you and you have no say in the matter. I’ve been in a rip once, with a boogie board, and you can feel them pulling you. It’s terrifying. I could feel it pulling the board out along its line away from me. Thankfully I could just swim sideways out of it, but for a while there before I knew how wide it was I thought I’d have to let the board go just so it wouldn’t pull me with it. So yeah, I get the desire for a floatation device, but I’d prefer one that a) lets me swim, and b) that I can get out of/let go of if it’s pulling me places.

I’ve been in a lot of seas. I’ve been in rocky inlets with big swells from the water just sloshing around between the rocks. I’ve been picked up and fully thrown up onto a cliff by a wave in one of those. I’ve been in nearly motionless water when you can basically lie on your back and let yourself drift because the water’s not going to carry you far. I’ve been swimming in a storm surge on that childhood beach with 12ft waves charging up quarter of a mile of beach and it was amazing, and relatively safe because you were going to get thrown in, not out. I’ve been caught in a rip in the most mild looking sea you can imagine and been absolutely terrified. I’ve been on a beach with a big long parallel sandbar submerged offshore, where you’re basically swimming in something that very much wants to be a shallow lagoon one day, but if you take one step off the far side of the sandbar you plunge into 30ft deep water.

‘The sea’ is not a thing, really. Every sea is a different sea. Every beach is a different beach. They all have their own rules and habits and peccadillos. Never assume it’ll be the same.

Just. As a general rule, though? I still wouldn’t use a pool ring in moving water.

[zosin-ya]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴜɴ

Summary: After your shared exam was finally over, Law invites you to the party, showing a more relaxed side of himself. As the night progresses, his boldness starts to emerge, especially after a few drinking games and making out session in the bathroom.

a.n.: Ikakku as the bartender, Shachi being drunk and Penguin somewhere drunk as well. Enjoy! (4,5k words whoops got a bit carried away)

tags: One Piece, Law x Reader, Modern AU, University AU, Penguin and Shachi as Laws flat mate, Law on a sick motorcycle cuz its hot

[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

“You invited her?! Dude, nice!” Shachi exclaimed, holding up a hand for a high-five.

Law just stared at it, unimpressed, and ignored the gesture. He didn’t really feel like it was something to celebrate. Sure, he was glad you wanted to come to the party, but beyond that? Whatever. He was more relieved the exam was over and had gone well. The fact that you’d be there too? Casual excitement—nothing to make a big deal about.

"Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your party?" Law said, towel-drying his damp hair while still dressed in his sweatpants. He had a bit of time before he needed to pick you up. After giving you the address and realizing how far the nearest bus stop was from the party, he suggested giving you a ride.

“Boo, you’re such a buzzkill,” Shachi grinned, throwing on his jacket and grabbing his keys. “Better bring a better mood to the party.”

“Whatever."

“Aigh, see ya later!” Shachi called over his shoulder, before heading out the door.

Law watched him leave, glad for the silence settling in the apartment. He took a deep breath, finishing up getting ready, and tried to shake off the exhaustion...or was he nervous?

While Law was casually getting ready, you were in a whirlwind of chaos. It wasn’t that you were nervous—okay, maybe just a little. Who were you kidding? You were a nervous wreck. It had been a while since you went out with someone, let alone to a party full of strangers. At least Law would be there, a familiar face in the crowd. But speaking of Law, you really had to hurry—he’d be there soon.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang, just as you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing whatever you might need, you hurried to the door and opened it, greeted by Law, who looked pretty much the same as always. His hair was a little neater than usual, but what really caught your eye was the extra helmet he was holding.

"Hey, you ready?" he asked, his tone as casual as ever. You nodded, quickly closing your apartment door behind you, and followed him outside…while your keys were still on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks again for giving me a ride," you said with a smile, tugging your jacket tighter against the chilly night air. Law shrugged, as if to say it was no big deal, and handed you the extra helmet.

"You know how to backpack?" he asked suddenly, and you blinked, confused.

Backpack?

Seeing your puzzled look, Law grinned and nodded toward his motorcycle. "Sitting behind someone on a motorcycle."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "That’s kind of a cute term. But no, I haven’t done that before."

Law gave a small nod and stepped toward his bike. "No worries, it’s easy. I’ll show you."

He straddled the motorcycle first effortlessly, then waited as you climbed on behind him. He knew it took a little getting used to the first time, but thankfully, the ride wasn’t too long. “You can put your feet here,” he instructed, pointing to the foot pegs. “Hold on tight to me, and lean with me when we hit the curves. That’s all there is to it.”

You gave a quick nod and pulled on your helmet as Law did the same. Before you could adjust it, he turned around and snapped your visor shut, then clicked his own into place. You watched, before he fired the engine to life with a throaty roar.

Feeling a bit unsure, you leaned forward slightly, gripping the sides of his jacket with a tentative hold. Law noticed and stopped for a moment, then without warning, he reached for your hands and pulled them tighter around his waist, making you grip his chest and fall against his back. The sudden closeness made your heart race.

“I said tight,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement. “Don’t want you falling off.”

A light, embarrassed chuckle escaped you as you adjusted your grip, hugging him more securely. “Right, got it,” you murmured.

With a grin you could almost hear, Law revved the engine, and moments later, you were off.

 “Come, this way,” Law said, nodding toward the faint sound of music already seeping into the air. You followed him while you two left the bike at a parking spot, feeling the buzz of anticipation as you approached the building. The party was tucked away in the basement, and as you descended the steps, the volume of the music grew louder.

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit by the heavy, stuffy air mixed with the distinct smells of alcohol and something you couldn’t quite place. The crowd was already thick, bodies swaying to the rhythm in the dark colorful lights, and despite the chaotic energy, there was something about the atmosphere that started to get you in the mood.

Law seemed familiar with the place, confidently navigating through the room. “Want to take off your jacket?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, handing it over to him. When he pulled off his own leather jacket, though, something caught your eye. For the first time, you noticed the tattoos that stretched beyond his knuckles, trailing up his forearms. The black ink swirled in intricate patterns, with just a hint of it peeking from beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt.

Suddenly, you felt a rush of heat. Was the room always this warm, or was it just you?

Law turned to you and gestured toward the bar, silently suggesting to get a drink. You nodded with a suddenly shy smile and followed him through the crowd. You had to admit, the party was surprisingly well-organized. The lighting, the music, the setup—everything looked pretty impressive, especially the bar. Apparently, the engineering students knew how to throw a party.

When you reached the bar, a young woman with dark, curly hair held back by a bright yellow headband greeted you with a warm smile. Her eyes landed on you first, then shifted to Law.

“Hey, Law! Glad you could make it!” she said cheerfully.

“Pleasure's mine, Ikkaku,” Law replied, giving her a friendly smile. It was clear they knew each other. You stood there, a little shy, but smiled politely.

“Oh, hi! I’m Ikkaku! I don’t think we’ve met before,” the woman said, extending a hand toward you. You shook it and introduced yourself, instantly being taking in by her radiating smile.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Law watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at his lips. He wasn’t too worried about you meeting Ikkaku. Unlike Shachi and Penguin, who could be a bit much at times, Ikkaku was a breath of fresh air. She radiated confidence and had a feisty side that Law respected very much.

“So, what can I get you two?” Ikkaku asked, leaning forward with a grin. “First drink’s on the house.”

“You got the northern vodka by any chance?” Law asked, leaning slightly forward with a casual air. Ikkaku’s grin widened, clearly in on it. Of course she had it, especially since Shachi had specifically brought it for the party. He’d stashed it under the bar, trusting Ikkaku to keep an eye on it and only serve it to close friends. After all, it wasn’t cheap or easy to come by.

“Sure do. With soda?” she asked.

“Yes, please, but for the love of god, mix the drink like a human this time,” Law said, causing Ikkaku to laugh along.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she teased, shaking her head with a playful grin as she turned toward you. “And for you, Y/N?”

You placed your order, and she got to work, carefully mixing both drinks. As promised, she kept it reasonable, not trying to drown either of you in alcohol. Law kept an eye on her as she poured, just to be sure she didn’t pull any tricks. The memory of getting absolutely trashed on the first he came here flashed in his mind—along with the unpleasant experience of throwing up into his helmet. He was careful not to repeat that disaster tonight.

With your drinks, you both decided to move to a quieter table, away from the crowd. Setting your glasses down, you slipped into an easy rhythm of conversation.

“So, you said your friends were here too?” you asked, leaning in a bit closer.

Law hummed in response, casually leaning back as his eyes scanned the crowd. His long legs stretched out below the table, brushing your knee ever so slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, finally nodding towards a corner of the room. “See the guy over there trying—and failing—to juggle the beer pong balls? That’s Shachi. He’s studying engineering, good friends with Ikkaku, the bartender.” His gaze shifted to another spot. “And that’s Penguin, the guy in the beanie. You’ve met him before, right? We live together.”

You chuckled at the sight of Shachi fumbling with the beer pong balls. “Penguin seemed pretty nice when I met him. Shachi, though… definitely can’t juggle.”

“Nope,” Law said, grinning as he took a sip of his drink. His eyes drifted back to you, and for a moment, he found himself quietly studying your face. It suddenly hit him how stunning you looked tonight, the soft light from the party casting a warm glow over your features. The way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, or even just how you looked at him—it was captivating. He found himself lingering in the moment longer than usual.

Why was his heart racing suddenly?

You broke his trance by asking, “Kind of in a mood of beer pong, are you good at it?”

It caught him off guard a bit as he came back to reality, but only for a second. A playful grin spread across his face when he heard your suggestion. Was that a challenge?

“Maybe. Wanna find out and lose?” His voice had that teasing, competitive edge. Law could get fiercely competitive with games like these, a trait he knew well enough to admit. He didn’t just want to win—he needed to.

“Oh, I don’t plan on losing,” you said boldly, ready for a challenge.

Law raised an eyebrow, the spark of competition fully lit and enjoying your bold anticipation. “Alright, game on,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing up, already mentally preparing to take the win—or go down swinging.

You and Law made your way to the beer pong table tucked away in the corner, where Shachi was struggling to pick up the ping pong balls. He kept fumbling, his coordination long gone thanks to the alcohol he’d consumed. Law, amused by the scene, stood back with a lazy smile and simply watched his friend, leaving you to step in.

“Here, let me help,” you said, handing the ball directly to Shachi. He blinked up at you in surprise, clearly thrown off by your pretty face. But when he spotted Law next to you, the gears in his foggy mind slowly turned. As much as his drunken state allowed, he pieced things together.

"Law! There you are!" Shachi greeted, pulling him into a sloppy, brotherly hug, clapping him on the shoulder. As he did, he leaned in closer to him and grinned, whispering into his ear, “You didn’t tell me she was hot.”

Law rolled his eyes at Shachi’s comment, a flicker of both annoyance and amusement crossing his face, but he didn’t bother to respond. Shachi, still riding the high of his drunken state, flashed you a wide playful grin.

"You guys wanna play?" he asked, already grabbing the cups with a clumsy enthusiasm.

You shared a glance with Law, and something unspoken passed between you, before you stepped closer to the table.

The game kicked off. You helped arrange the plastic cups, filling them with something light, cautious not to overdo it too soon. Law handed you the first ball with a subtle smirk, one that made your pulse quicken. He was watching you intently, his gaze lingering just a bit longer than necessary as you lined up your shot.

With a flick of your wrist, the ball sailed effortlessly into the cup. You grinned, teasing him with a playful look. “Try to keep up,” you taunted lightly, savoring the first little victory.

Law raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile. “Alright,” he said smoothly, before taking his first cup in one clean motion, his eyes never leaving yours as he emptied it.

For a moment your mind went blank, those stormy eyes locking with yours so intensely completely threw you off guard. You had a feeling Law knew what he was doing.

Shachi, playing the part of an overly enthusiastic referee, was more of a distraction for Law than anything else. He cheered only you on and did his best to throw Law off, witch loud coughs and "Look over there"s.

Every time Law stepped up to take his shot, there was an obvious tension in the air. He wasn’t just throwing the ball; he was challenging you with each toss, silently daring you to keep pace. And while you landed a few solid shots, Law’s precision was undeniable. Even when he had to hold on on the table, the alcohol clearly starting to catch up with him, he still managed to sink the ball into your cups with impressive accuracy.

By the time your side was completely wiped out, Law still had three cups standing. You huffed in mock frustration, but deep down, the competitiveness had only made things more fun.

Shachi clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot. “Rules say you’ve gotta finish the winner’s cups!” he teased.

You sighed defeated, “Fine, Law. You win.”

As you reached for one of his cups, though, Law’s hand shot out, stopping you. His fingers brushed against yours, sending a small jolt of electricity through you. He held your gaze for a moment, before he spoke up. “Let’s share it. I’d rather not have to carry you home wasted.”

The teasing edge in his voice made your stomach flip, but the offer itself was unexpected. Law was competitive by nature, and Shachi knew he usually liked to rub his victories in. This time, though, he was...different.

You accepted his offer with a small smile, taking one of the cups while Shachi gleefully grabbed the last. Shachi, clearly impressed, raised an eyebrow at Law. “Wow, Law. Didn’t expect you to go soft on her.”

Law just shrugged, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he downed the rest of his drink. “She made it a decent game,” he said with a casual smirk, though the look he gave you was anything but casual.

“Another round?” Shachi asked, grinning as he set down his cup, already eager for more.

You shook your head with a soft laugh, feeling the alcohol making your head spin just a little. Even Law seemed to be feeling it, though his cool demeanor didn’t falter. He looked at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight, teasing smile. “Maybe next time.”

As the night continued, Shachi separated from you two, wanting to go on a dance battle with Penguin. You watched him stumble away with an amused grin, and leaned against the beer pong table. "He's pretty fun."

Law leaned beside you, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, he’s chaotic, but he’s great." It was something Law probably wouldn’t admit when sober. He valued his friends more than anything, but he wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate.

“How did you guys meet?” you asked, seizing the moment. Law seemed more relaxed than usual, probably thanks to the alcohol and the lively party atmosphere. His eyes remained fixed on his friends, who were currently tearing up the dance floor, before he turned back to you.

“We’re childhood friends,” he replied, rather casually.

Your eyes widened slightly, a warm feeling spreading through you. There was something undeniably sweet about hearing that. Law, already sensing where this was heading, scrunched up his face and quickly looked away.

“Don’t—” he began, but it was too late.

“Aw, that’s adorable.”

“God, here we go,” Law groaned, rubbing his eyes in mock exasperation. But despite his feigned annoyance, a grin tugged at his lips.

"Sorry, I had to, you’re so secretive it’s nice to get to know more about you." you said with a grin. "Hey, how about we play a question game? Taking turns?”

The suggestion piqued Law's interest. It was a good idea, and honestly, he was relieved that you came up with activities instead of him. He wasn't the type to take the lead with things like this.

"Like 'Never Have I Ever'?" Law asked, thinking of the drinking game. You hesitated for a moment before nodding, even though you knew it would probably loosen you up more than you intended.

After returning to the bar and ordering some diluted shots from Ikkaku—not wanting to black out too soon—you both sat back down at the table. Law took the first turn, thoughtfully considering his question. He didn’t want to embarrass you; it was just a fun opportunity to get to know you better.

"Never have I ever… cheated on an exam," he said with a smirk.

As you lifted your glass to your lips, Law shot you a mock judgmental look, causing you to laugh.

"What? The professor left the damn room for twenty minutes."

"You don't have to justify it," he chuckled. "I didn't say anything." He watched you down your drink, his eyes lingering on your lips.

"Alright, my turn," you said, thinking for a moment. "Never have I ever… slept with my ex."

Law lifted his glass, and this time, you gave him a playful judgmental look. He shrugged before he downed his shot.

"What? I'm not proud of it," he admitted with a wry smile.

"Why did you do it, then?" you teased, leaning in closer with a grin.

Law scrunched his eyebrows and sighed, rubbing his face as if the memory itself drained him. "No clue. It was a bad decision, and I’m definitely not making that mistake again. Not with her."

His tone made you even more curious, and you mentally noted that his relationship with his ex hadn’t been the best. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between them—and what kind of girl Law had dated in the first place. He was so guarded when sober, often keeping his walls up. Yet here he was, relaxed and open, at least for the moment.

"Okay, my turn again… never have I ever… stalked someone online before a date." Law asked, and leaned back in his seat.

You acted without thinking, your hand already lifting the glass. But as realization hit, you froze mid-motion and looked at Law with wide eyes. He raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by your reaction.

You remembered how you’d stalked Law’s Instagram before your first study session together at the café, and the embarrassment started creeping in. But it was too late now—you downed the drink and set the glass back on the table.

"Why did you hesitate?" Law asked, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.

"What? I don’t know what you mean,"

"Cut the crap, tell me,"

The alcohol made your tongue loose, and you couldn’t help but admit the truth. "Fine... I may have, possibly, looked you up online before we met for the first time. Maybe. Just... a little."

Law leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Being a private person, he let the silence stretch between you two, deliberately creating a sense of pressure. It felt like an interrogation.

You shifted uncomfortably. "I just... Look, you were a random delivery guy. I didn’t trust that you were actually a med student. You even know where I live, and remember how you picked up my uni ID?"

Law listened, nodding slowly, his expression unreadable.

"I kind of panicked," you continued, running a hand through your hair. "I thought maybe you were just pretending to be in med school to... I don’t know, lure me in. Since you knew I was studying medicine." You sighed, feeling a bit ridiculous now. "Sorry, I was just anxious."

You braced yourself, half expecting Law to lecture you—or, worst-case scenario, leave the table and leave you sitting there alone at the party. But what you didn’t expect was for him to give you an amused smile, followed by a low chuckle.

"Smart girl," he said, surprising you. "Makes sense. Anyway, your turn."

"Wait, you don’t mind?" you asked, blinking in confusion.

"Probably would have done the same if i was a chick living alone and inviting a random stranger to meet up."

"Wow you make me look like a loser." You laughed an rolled your eyes, to which Law shook his head with a grin. "Just laying out the facts, now go on, your turn."

You continued your game with Law, enjoying the lighthearted fun, until eventually, nature called. All that liquid had to leave your system, and you asked Law where the bathroom was. He motioned for you to follow him, leading you to a small unisex bathroom. He waited outside while you quickly headed in.

As you finished up, you suddenly became aware of how dizzy you felt from the alcohol. You were still able to walk and talk without slurring, but your head was spinning badly. Gripping the sink, you took a moment to steady yourself, trying to calm the whirlwind in your mind. The dim bass from the party music in the background only seemed to make the dizziness worse.

Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Law leaned against the wall, checking his phone. You’d been inside for a while, and he was starting to get concerned. He debated whether to check on you, but worry quickly got the better of him. Knocking gently on the door, he called out, “Y/N, hey, you okay in there?”

He listened closely but didn’t hear a response. Anxiety bubbled up inside him, and he knocked again, louder this time. “Y/N?”

Finally, the doorknob turned, and you opened the door, holding your head. "My head is spinning. Give me a sec," you mumbled, stumbling slightly as you leaned back against the wall for support, slowly sliding down against it.

Law was quick to react. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him for privacy, and crouched down next to you. "You need some water?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with concern.

You shook your head slightly, the dizziness still overpowering your senses. Maybe the drinking game after beer pong hadn’t been the brightest idea.

He watched you for a moment, taking in the way you sat there, trying to compose yourself. Silence fell between you two, but this time it was comfortable. You leaned your head back against the wall, Law sitting next to you, mimicking the gesture.

Your gaze drifted back to him, and as if by fate, your eyes met. The dim lighting softened everything, but his grey eyes still seemed to cut through the shadows, intense and focused. He really was something, you thought, as your gaze unconsciously dropped to his lips.

Without realizing it, you began to inch closer, noticing how Law didn’t pull back. In fact, he seemed to lean in as well, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Your heart raced, the moment stretching longer, making it almost unbearable.

Law swallowed, hesitant for a split second before his hand lifted, gently cupping your chin. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

The space between the two of you disappeared, you could feel his breath on your skin as he tilted his head slightly, bringing your lips closer to his. Unsure of what to do, but not wanting to stop, you let the moment happen.

The second your lips touched, your eyes fluttered shut.

At first, the kiss was light, almost tentative—neither of you rushing it. But then, you moved your lips softly against his, and Law followed, matching your pace. The hesitation faded, and the connection deepened as you both let yourselves get lost in the moment.

Laws hand traveled from you chin to the back of your head, suddenly grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you in closer. You grabbed his T-shirt instinctively and let the kiss get more heated. Your breath was going heavy, desperate for air, yet neither of your two wanted to break the kiss.

Without pulling apart, you managed to somewhat clumsily get on your feet. Law walked you back against the sink, his lips still attached to yours, as he grabbed your thighs and effortlessly lifted you up. Sitting at the sink was pretty uncomfortable, but your mind was busy with other things. Your hands traveled down from his chest, to his belt, blindly trying to loosen it impatiently.

And Law seemed to be on the same page, he let his inked hands disappear under your top, fumbling with the clip of your bra. The air was thick with tension as you two made out and tried to rip each others clothes off.

Laws zipper was already open and his belt hung lose on his jeans, while he was kissing your neck sloppily and pushed your top upwards, trying to get more of your sweet flesh.

While you two were in the heat of the moment, you completely forgot that you occupied the only existing bathroom at the party. The impatient knock of someone at the door reminded you what you were doing.

"Hey, I gotta piss, hurry up!"

Both of you froze, feeling like being caught in the act.

Law sighed in frustrating and let his head hang low, while you pinched the bridge of your nose. Great, getting cock blocked by a random stranger.

"In a fucking minute!" Law shouted back, and slowly let go of you, letting you hop of the sink. Both of you adjusted your clothes quickly and gave each other a disappointed look. It was great while it lasted.

Law walked ahead, swinging the door open with a bit more force than necessary, revealing the unfortunate person who had been banging on the door. The guy stood there, confused, clearly piecing together what had been happening inside. Law gave him a cold glare, making it obvious that he was pissed off and didn't really care the guy probably knew that you two were making out in the bathroom. You, on the other hand, followed Law out, feeling too embarrassed to meet the guy’s eyes.

As you walked away, still flustered, you spoke up quietly, "Hey, I’m still feeling a bit dizzy... I think I might call it a night." You rubbed your arm shyly, not wanting to seem like you were bailing, but the dizziness was still lingering mixed with exhaustion.

Law nodded in understanding, brushing a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Yeah, let’s leave," he agreed, his tone softer now. He placed a hand on your back gently, guiding you away from the noise of the party, and the two of you headed for the exit, leaving the chaotic atmosphere behind.

[Next Chapter]

tag list: @mars-mizuko @tadomikiku (Comment to be added 🖤)

[bumblepony]

Birthday Fic Recs!

So it's my birthday, y'all, and on this momentous day, I want to share my favorite fics from all my favorite authors and friends in this amazing fandom! Because you all are such wonderful people, and you've all inspired me to become a better writer, and I can't thank you all enough. So here is my list in no particular order. Some of these may be duplicates of fics I've recommended in the past, if so roll with it because I'm always happy to share amazing stuff again.

i know you by heart by @sixhours - Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that. AKA the gay TLOU/Prospect crossover you didn't know you needed.

A woman is a changeling by @treadlightlymydarlinggirl - (Tess lives) and what happens after!

back and forth, up and down by @lauronk - (more times ellie & joel barely missed each other in the qz)

our hearts are heavy burdens (we shouldn't have to bear alone) by @ameerawrites - Maria and Tommy's engagement story, a prequel to "Not Alone"

Fortunate Son by @hypnotisedfireflies - Maria Sinclair agrees to help Tommy Miller, a probationary resident at Jackson, with a life-changing opportunity.

Next of Kin by @probssomethingorother - The day Joel becomes a dad and how he deals with the sudden weight of fatherhood. Slight canon divergence where his wife dies instead of leaving. Big whumps ahead.

Mary Poppins ain't got nothing on me by @barlowstreet - Tommy POV again! This time, he's watching Ellie while Joel has surgery. Ellie is not fond of this plan.

collaborators by @becomethesun - Sam and Henry live. Adventures and found family bonding ensue on the journey from Kansas City to Jackson and beyond.

What Would Your Superpower Be? by blue_calico on AO3 - With a storm taking its toll on Ellie as they pass through Indiana, Joel reluctantly lets them stay with a family who stirs up pain he's tried hard to bury. Still, he knows how to be a good dad. He just can't yet see it.

Lost in the Woods by @cardigains - How digging up what's buried in the past brings about consequences in the present. (The Private Investigator!AU nobody asked for.) (I did! I asked for it! I'm here for it!)

Right Where We Belong by cauldron_zeta on AO3 - Frank has upheaved his life to move to almost the middle of nowhere. His closest neighbor isn't really a people person, but Frank has always liked a challenge.

just babes being dudes and flat on my face then back in the race and my cow, your cow, our cow by @ciaconnaa - Sorry this are all amazing and I just could not pick which one was my favorite!

Mute Joel by @captainredspade - An Ellie and Joel drabble that may or may not turn to something more in the future. It's based off the au idea of Joel being mute, and if he and Ellie met a different way than they did in canon.

Compassionate Friends by @mildredellie - Ellie & Joel meet at a grief support group they were both forced to attend.

cosmic oddities by @deervsheadlights - Turning a clan of two into a clan of four and asking the very important, albeit unhinged question: What if space dad and apocalypse dad were Weird About Each Other?

Taste your beating heart by @finnelfin - Tess's traveling companions are keeping secrets. The Werewolf AU I never thought I needed.

in search of some hope by @dancingonmoonbeams - Tommy’s story, from leaving Boston to finding Jackson to him and Joel finding each other again.

show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time by @eedsknees - Cry to the Chest (featuring Ellie with endometriosis trying to ignore her pain until she can't anymore!)

Mother by @liveandletcry23 - The Millers have a demon problem.

expect(ing)(ations) by @penandinkprincess - (set about ten years after the original storyline) (ellie, now grown and married, decides she wants to have a baby so she can pass her immunity on to her kid)

Dinosaur by @femmefacetious - Joel and Ellie deal with some stupid cold temperatures and assorted shenanigans (the not-fun kind) in and around the town of...Dinosaur, CO.

we could walk forever, walkin' on the moon and what matters most by @boopernatural - I had to pick both because they are some of my favorites!

For Your Entertainment by @manicparadox - A strip club AU. Bill and Frank meet at The Bou-Peek where Frank is a stripper.

Future Proof by Capricordinary on AO3 - Joel is somehow transported into the past. He makes it his mission to find four-year-old Ellie, reunite his family, and find a safe place for them in the Wyoming wilderness

Most Likely Occupation by Joschmo on AO3 - Joel is a single dad working long hours in a difficult, painful occupation. He does what he needs to do to keep going, or at least that's what he tells himself. After the outbreak, things...escalate.

ily, imu, im sry (i love you, i miss you, im sorry) by @mariatesstruther - in which Joel and Tess haven't spoken for ten years, but are reintroduced for their daughters’ english project. Sarah and Ellie misinterpret the situation quite a bit.

To Have Loved Someone by Joels_revolver on AO3 - Ellie is stuck in a modern Jackson now and neither she nor Joel have any idea how to get her back. Ellie has no choice but to confront her demons, and Joel— Well, he has a few demons of his own to deal with.

dodors (and other birds) by @ketchupchipsaregross - How Tess and Joel accidentally restarted parenting in their 40s.

let all your damage damage me by @electricbluebutterflies - Assorted prompt fills and shorter ficlets, generally unconnected and variable ratings. Tess/Joel.

Of Artists and Architects by @emilylawsons - A Cordyceps-Free Tessjoel AU

creature fear by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson - The first time Joel protects Sarah from an infected, it changes his life forever. The first time Joel protects Ellie from an infected, it feels just like it did twenty years ago. Even if he swears up and down that the kid is just cargo.

I have to break this up. It's too big. So look for the next one in a little bit.

[springsylph]

bodyguard.

[bodyguard!john price x rookie actress!reader]

extension of this blurb. || minors, do not interact.

read on ao3

this was supposed to be a one-off thing but uh. my hand slipped? had to cut down the "price wouldn't do that" monster with my "i can do what i want" sword, and we got 3k of an unedited brain dump that i typed on my phone at six in the morning. also my first time writing something for price! woo!

He pulls out the crown on his watch, begins to twist and twist so that the dials can begin their inevitable rotation. “You know what time it is?"

Yelling secures you your first big project.

You can’t pay those bills until I land a job. A real job.

You’re almost certain your agent thinks you’re throwing a tantrum, and it leaves a coarse grit in your molars. You don’t like to pick fights. Hate it, really. But pushes are usually succeeded by shoves, and you can’t afford to get knocked out of the ring this time around.

The worst they can do is say no, right?

Thankfully, one yes is all you need to beg for. Your chariot arrives in the shape of a surprisingly low-budget rom-com, in simple terms. You and your C-list costar (flanked by a squeaky clean track record, thank god) are swept up in a soundless spiral of table reads and filming and wrapping before you can really, truly process.

But a warden stands guard at the eye of your perfect storm. John Price, assigned to you through your agency without so much as a proper word.

(“Squeaky clean,” apparently, didn’t take a history of overzealous stalkers into account.)

The peephole to your dilapidated apartment can barely contain him. blocks him—or attempts to do so—like a child might shield their sandcastle from the pulsing tide. Only, you think the tide might be more forgiving. He’s rooted in place, made harsher under the cracked fluorescent bulbs out in the hallway. They hum along with him. Faint, unless your breathing stills.

You’d feel a little more at ease if he were actually ex-military; the scraps of information you’ve been fed tell you that he’s been discharged, but you don’t believe it. Not for a second. You hadn’t been given much else apart from that and a face, but you could put together that he was disgustingly overqualified—not that you were complaining, though. Not yet.

You watch as John Price—Price?—gazes with a deceiving sort of apathy toward the end of the hall, then to the other, and back to the other end in three smooth seconds.

You think he’s seeing things till the apartment two doors down produces a tenant from its depths and price is turning, warding the disturbance off with an easy mornin’ and a wave of a large hand. He says nothing when they shuffle off awkwardly without a response, and the slow crawl of his opposite hand away from a flash of metal at his hip draws your pupil like a magnet.

It’s then that you note the suspiciously white shirt—rolled up to his elbows, tucked neatly into dark denim. hands tucked into pockets. Beard trimmed. Everything not protected by the skin on his body squared away just so, with just enough of his bulk on display to prompt that second spike of wariness.

A meticulous problem, then.

You peel yourself away from the door after an inhale and swing it open regardless.

The smell of tobacco and cologne hits your nose like a hammer the moment the door hits the bolt behind you, but you recover the feeling in your knees quickly. The fisheye lens doesn’t quite do him justice—you have to look up a bit to take another quick scan, cheeks cramping with the sudden momentum of your smile.

“I don’t see a bible or a pamphlet, so I’m assuming you’re not here to preach?” 

The joke doesn’t fall flat, but it does sail into one of the weaker bulbs before it shuts off with a buzz.

“…Captain Price, right?”

His eyes crinkle with a hint of what might be a grin. Under different circumstances, maybe. “Right on the mark. A pleasure to finally meet you, Ma’am.” But that thrum of irritation is there, as is the narrowing of his eyes when you extend your hand in greeting. “Just Price’ll do though.”

Hm.

He reaches up to fix his beanie just above his brow before giving your hand a firm shake. Definitely military. And hot as a furnace. You’re more than a little dizzy when he pulls back to check his watch, the inside of your wrist now raw from the grazing of a fingernail.

You can feel the skin he’s taken with him when he looks you in the eyes. Assessing. You don’t know why, but think you’ve won until he’s looking back down at his wrist.

He pulls out the crown on his watch, begins to twist and twist so that the dials can begin their inevitable rotation. “You know what time it is?”

Nine in the morning.

Or, at least it was thirty minutes ago.

“I—yeah. Lost track of time, sorry.” You scratch just under the collar of your shirt, straighten it out when the itch turns into a tingle you’re willing to overlook. You realize after an embarrassing beat that he’s probably asking for the actual time. “I sleep like a rock,” you add anyway. Your agency had actually given you three things, not two: a poorly put together profile, a face, and a meeting time.

It dawns on you now that a thirty minute “test of patience” with your back pressed to the door may not have been the way to go.

Price looks up, finally. Rolls his shoulders back as if to shed the pileup of gravity that’s compressed his spine in the half hour you’ve kept him waiting—and somehow, someway, seems to double the amount of space he takes up.

“That so,” he questions. Low in his throat, and a tad exasperated, because you’ve studied exasperation. Went into debt to have that understanding feel like a second skin. Which is why you observe, perplexed, as he gestures to the entryway. You think you feel your head nod, and he brushes past you to push through the door. “‘Nother habit we’ll have to kick.”

Any objections you might’ve had are killed in your throat the moment his prowl begins, and your socks catch on the scuffed linoleum as you flounder in after him.

The door slams back against the bolt while Price’s boots press the air out of your hardwood floors, squeals escaping with each heavy step. You squeak out a feeble excuse me alongside them once or twice, but to no avail. He can’t hear you, too intent on following some internal rhythm that takes him to the open window, the dusty cabinets, slipping fingers into the creases of a space you’re barely acquainted with yourself.

Something like nausea begins to bubble. You planned this. You��d planned out your introduction. Picked out your clothes, your shoes, where you’d grab coffee so you could build up your integrity and explain to him that you’re not looking to be coddled, he’d just get in the way. And now you’re wringing your hands, abject unease burning in a dense knot between your eyes while you figure out how to melt into the poorly hidden pile of dirty laundry.

There’s a delay in your processing, and you don’t start to catch up until Price finally slows down enough for you to realize he’s been talking.

He’s stooping over your dining room table, swiping a finger over his tongue before using it to card through old mail. “Real sorry ‘bout this, Ma’am. Not the most ideal introduction, I know, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch. Standard protocol—’m sure you know how it is, yeah?”

Price moves to turn over a stack of magazines on your dining table, and you wonder: were you supposed to know? You’re sure his question is rhetorical, and you’re certainly not inclined to answer. But something about the way it hits the water stains on your ceiling justifies the way he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

Concern. An uncut gem, plucked from some cavernous fissure that might be closer in proximity to hell than your own flesh and blood.

The crease between his brows deepens. “You have had security before, haven’t you?”

“Don’t get out much. I do my work, come right home.” You shrug, but your shoulders can’t seem to come back down. Perhaps this was why they’d put him on leave—he couldn’t do math.

You shuffle a bit in place, kick aside a ratty tennis ball left behind from one of your pet sitting stints. It hits your refrigerator and he’s still looking down at your feet, so you look with him.

—at the last two toes sticking out of your sock.

You rush to cover it with your other foot while Price sucks his teeth. He doesn’t move, hands still planted on the table, but each time he blinks his eyes are trained on something different.

Price lets out a sigh before he finally stands upright, perching his hands on his hips. “I'm surprised your people waited this long to call someone in. Right idiots they are, I’ll tell you that.”

Your people. You wrap your arms around your middle, pinch the fabric of your shirt between your fingers.

“I can't really blame them,” you say after a moment. Tip your chin up, a last ditch attempt at salvaging what little of your farce is left to cover yourself with.

Price tuts, strangely unconvinced for someone you’d only known for around ten minutes. “You’d be smart to blame them.”

“Don’t think I can do that when I'm working for them, Price.”

“Can’t you? S’clear they’ve done fuck all to look out for you.”

And you could. Should. Want to. So, so desperately need to. But you’re already saddled with enough things to hate. Hope of catharsis is an outbound ship, a blip on the horizon that you don’t have the funds to board. 

“…I don't follow.”

Price doesn’t flinch when the table rocks without the weight of the magazines to keep it steady, and neither do you.

“You don’t follow,” he repeats. Like a crucial detail has been lost in translation.

You shake your head.

“Well, that’s no good.”

Cigar smoke snakes its way into your headspace again when he strides past you to put his hand up against the door, muscles in his forearms flexing when he pulls at the doorknob. He beckons you closer, and you’re pulled out of orbit when you skirt close enough for him to reach, guiding your hand to the cool metal while he stands just behind you.

“Here,” he mutters. Your chest is a cushion, and the rumble in his chest is a bright red pin.

(Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if the crackle of a walkie-talkie might bury how frighteningly human he sounds.)

“What am I looking for?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

He takes his hand off once you’ve stopped throwing glances at him, and your knuckles sizzle in his absence. What was he looking for? Nothing…looks different. 

You can’t focus. His eyes are on your neck, and you can’t focus.

And suddenly, you don’t like how close he is. You’re reminded of how he’d shoved his way into your apartment. Barely spoken to you before driving a stake through the bubble put together with your blood sweat and tears. Made you feel ashamed in your own home.

Righteous indignation flares up, and you’re spewing words you’re certain you believe in until they tumble out.

“If you’re just here to poke fun, I’m not—”

Pop.

You look down. The keyhole pokes just out of the doorknob and you look to Price, his face remarkably passive.

“Lock’s been tampered with.” He runs a thumb over the offending protrusion, watches as it slots back into place. “You should see some scratches on the other side of it. Thought I noticed something when the door first slammed, but I didn't want to startle you in case my eyes were playing tricks. Can’t quite see like I used to.”

Why not get glasses?

“I would’ve put up less of a fuss if you’d told me up front.”

He looks at you, eyes a perfect congruence of something just beyond what your fingertips can touch. But he smiles, and you think you can understand. Maybe mash the pieces together. A distending warmth. Nepenthe sinking into every orifice until you’re expelling your woes through your nostrils.

Your axis tilts when Price puts a solid hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not good to lie, mm? Not to me.”

Not good to lie.

When you slide out from under his palm, his callouses snag on the exposed seam of your shirt. You toss him a grin, a bone. “Noted.”

Insecure seconds pass, but not without movement. 

It begins like this: Price walks away from the door, and you’re almost grateful for the squealing underneath his feet to fill the silence. He takes your stack of mail and magazines, sets them exactly as they had been before he’d entered. The table is righted, and he works in reverse from that point on.

Closing cabinet doors. Angling that picture frame you’ve been meaning to adjust for weeks. He’s putting things into their proper place, like setting bones before they’re enclosed in a stiff cast. 

You, though, are still standing awkwardly by the door.

“You really don’t need to—”

He holds out a hand. “Relax. ‘M just having a second go around.”

You bristle, but your decision to pad over to the couch is of your own volition. It caves in when you sit, and you wiggle to get the cushions to realign with your hips. Your hands feel around blindly for the remote to your TV before remembering you’d dropped it out of the window in a fit of anger some weeks ago, so you sit back, spine hitting the hard frame of the couch. Price’s noises pair well, somehow, with the wind sliding over the glass and the neighbors downstairs.

Until you feel his presence at the back of the couch, and a thought smacks you right across your forehead.

You shoot up, heart rate suddenly inflamed by panic. “Price?”

The movement stops, and you turn around, peer over to find Price prepped to duck his head under the couch. “Hm?”

“Uh.” You hesitate. Shit, think—

“H-how much are they paying you, anyways?” Good save. Maybe a little less than good.

You feel a little bad that you’d stopped Price mid-crouch; you can’t quite remember how old he is, but you know he’s old enough for knee pain to be a concern. He looks up as if crunching the numbers in his head. Hums. “Enough.”

“What’re you looking for?”

“Saw the picked lock, didn’t you?”

“Were you really discharged?”

“Depends. There something under this couch you don’t want me seeing?”

Looks like you can knock “interrogation skills” off of your list of special skills on your resume.

Your jaw snapping shut is enough to send his arm sliding under, and you can only watch in horror as his clutched hand emerges holding a scrap of thin blue fabric. He pushes himself up off of his knees. Takes his sweet time wringing out his back while your eyes track his hand like he’s got a thumb over the button of a detonator.

If he had any shred of decency—

“Another thing I caught on my way in,” he huffs. He holds out his hand and allows the blue fabric to uncurl. A flag, hung full mast right between your eyes. Another one of his tests. 

“Price.”

“C’mon, now. Take it from me.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice; your arm shoots out and you win it back in one go. Stuff your lacy underwear into the pocket of your pants and wait for your ceiling to collapse in on you.

“Can’t leave pretty things like that layin’ around.” And Price stops, watches as you curl in on yourself. Voice like the push of velvet shifting underneath your palms. “Likely to rip if you’re not careful.”

You pull your head into your shirt and curl your knees into your chest. It’s a shock when you find yourself face to face with your heartbeat, the skin over your left breast jumping underneath your nose. “I think we’re done here.” 

Price makes that sucking noise again with his teeth—agitation, you think it’s agitation—and you trace the hazy shadow of him through your shirt as he steps around the couch to walk to the window. He snaps twice, and you’re beginning to entertain the thought of what might happen if you had enough strength to push him out.

“What now,” you croak.

“Eyes up.”

Slowly, you muster up enough spite to bring your head just above the collar of your shirt. Military men and their incessant need for…whatever the hell this was. 

“You’ve gotten better at this. Quick study,” Price remarks.

“Better at what.”

“Listening. That’s good, real good. That’ll make this a whole lot easier,” he says, a note of appreciation that you haven’t heard yet stirring that tiny pool of filth just underneath your navel. You hum.

Price crosses his arms. Flicks his stupid eyes toward the fluttering curtains. “How often d’you leave this open?”

Your face pinches. “I mean—pretty often? It’s hot, Price. And in case you haven’t noticed,” you wave your hand to the general state of disrepair, “I don’t exactly have good circulation in here.”

This gives him pause. Whatever plan he’s recalibrating, you want no part of it. You do notice that he hasn’t put his hands in his pockets since he showed up on your doorstep, instead favoring the use of his left hand to rub his chin. 

“Come over here and close the window.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. “...Close the window? Price, you can’t be serious.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Can’t…can’t you close it?”

“It’s not my window. Can’t do everythin’ for you.”

He stares at you expectantly. Your tailbone is beginning to throb, and for some damning reason, that note still ringing bright in the back of your skull. That’s good. Good, good, good.

Price catches that eager glint the moment it surfaces.

“Go on then, love.” He tips his head. “Close it.”

The rest of you surfaces slowly. You look back for a moment at the indent left on the couch, think about how long that imprint will be there until you feel inclined to fluff out those cushions again.

(Later. You’ll get to it later.)

Shutting the window doesn’t take much effort, but the swampy temperature is noticeable. You turn around a little too quickly, so you hold an arm out to the now sealed vault in an exaggerated show of bravado. I did it, see?

Price slides past you to look outside. He purses his lips when he finds what he’s looking for, and you can almost see the note being stashed into some faraway file.

He turns to you. “Keep this window closed till further notice,” and a hand reaches out to tug the curtains shut, and yellow from the lamp you’d left on last night washes over the room instantly.

“Price.”

“I take my work seriously. You take yours seriously, you’ll need me.”

It feels like a slap in the face. “I do, but that doesn’t mean—”

“My job,” and he points to himself, then to you, “is to keep you out of harm's way. Can’t do this if you don’t trust me.”

“You’re asking a lot for someone who hasn’t—”

You go silent as he reaches a hand into a back pocket, pulls out his hand and you count one, two, three square devices around the size of a nail.

“Busted lock, three faulty cameras, all outside. You’re lucky these people are idiots.” He shoves them back into his pocket before returning his focus to you. “You need me.”

You blink. 

Price smiles, raises his eyebrows as if the conversation is already over. “Hungry?”

You stumble back. “But what about—what about the apartment?”

“S’fine,” he says. He checks his watch. “I know a couple guys, you’re in good hands.”

[suugarbabe]

Hi! Love your writing and thanks for doing requests for a couple weeks! If you have time, could you please do a George Weasley x y/n with a right-person-wrong-time trope? As in they’ve liked each other for years but one of them was always in a relationship…until now. Not sure if they should end up at the Yule Ball together or if it’s after the war. I’ll let you decide how long the angst should last for them haha. Thanks for all your hard work!

*for the purpose of this fic my beloved Fred survived the war okay? okay.

You and George always just seemed to miss each other. In third year, when George first started noticing a crush on you, there was nothing he could do about it, as you were dating Oliver Wood.

When Oliver had broken up with you the same year as the Yule Ball, you weren't that upset because your feelings for Fred had seemed to blossom. However because your break up was not made a big deal, not everyone knew right away, and Fred had found someone else for the ball.

After the war, you weren't sure you would every see George again. People became distant, everyone was slow to connect again. But you were happy to have found Angelina once more, the both of you connecting again like you did in school.

You even got a flat together, which you were thankful for. You found it difficult living alone ever since the war happened. When Angelina came home one day, giddy and smiling, you immediately knew something was up.

"Why are you so smiley," you pointed and twirled your wand at her direction from its previously place of helping you decorate for Halloween.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I just ran into someone today is all."

"Oh? And who might that be?"

She grinned so devilishly you knew she was already hatching a plan, "Fred Weasley."

Your face immediately dropped, "Was he with-"

"George wasn't there," she interrupted, and your heart sank a little, "but I did ask about him. Found out some interesting information as well."

"What information might that be, pray tell?" You were slightly nervous, not sure what she would find as good news but knowing in your gut what you were hoping it was.

"I found out that George and the bimbo broke up...six months ago."

"You're kidding," it was hard to hide your smile now, but you tried to conceal your glee, "I mean, did he say how George was doing?"

Angelina patted the couch cushion next to her, "Apparently, a few nights after the break up, Fred and George got piss drunk and all George could do is talk about..." she trailed off, giggling slightly.

"Who? For fucks sake, Ange, who was he talking about?"

"He was talking about you," she poked your shoulder and immediately you turned towards her, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Well go on, then, what did he say? Did Fred tell you?"

Angelina nodded, "Apparently George was sputtering on about how you were the one for him and the timing just never worked out, and how he would never forgive himself for not taking you to the Yule Ball."

Your mouth dropped open in shock, but she continued, "Fred said he got this loopy look on his face, like lovesick look and that George just went on about how beautiful and smart and witty you were and if he ever got the chance to see you again that he," she held her hands up, "get this, he would make you his and never let you get away again."

You covered your face with your hands, whispering screaming into your palms before peaking over your finger tips, "He did not say that."

Angelina nodded again, making an x over her chest, "I swear to Godric he did. Also, I forgot to mention," she stood up from the couch, "the twins will be here in an hour."

Angelina was smart to stand before she told you this because you immediately started to chase her around the flat, screaming obscenities and asking how she could do that to you when you needed to find an outfit and do your hair and do your makeup.

Thankfully, Angelina was there to help, making sure you looked at perfect as you wanted to feel before Fred and George arrived. When they first got to the flat, you were a nervous wreck, but thankfully George looked of a similar status.

However, after a few drinks, you were feeling a little more confident, and George seemed to go back to his old self. Fred and Angelina had left the room twenty minutes ago, but neither you nor George seemed to notice.

"You know I never felt more stupid than when I showed up to the ball with that girl instead of you," George was shaking his head as he took another sip of his beer.

You smiled shyly down at your drink, "You didn't know Oliver and I broke up. S'not a big deal, Georgie."

A low hum left his throat, "I've missed that."

"Missed what?" you chanced looking up, meeting his gaze. Merlin did you miss his eyes looking at you.

"Missed you saying my name, calling me Georgie. Missed your voice, just missed you really," he placed one of his large hands on your thigh next to him.

"I've missed you too, Georgie," you placed your hand on top of his. George's eyes roamed your face, going from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again.

"Can I..." he trailed off as he leaned closer, hesitant to make the move, but as soon as he saw your slight nod his lips slotted against yours and you knew from that moment that you didn't want to kiss another person ever again.

[dancingtotuyo]

Build You the World

Joel Miller X Reader

Rating: PG-13 (Language)

Warnings: fluffiness, just fluff

Summary: Joel was stupid. Saying sorry the only way he knows how, Joel built you something.

Pre- Outbreak/ No outbreak because I want them to live a happy undisturbed life together.

Notes: We take a break from our regularly scheduled Narcos/Javier Peña content to give you this teeth rotting fluff piece about Joel Miller. Cross posted on AO3

Words: 1286

Series Master List | Author Master list

Joel sucked in a breath. Supplies scattered on the floor around him. The industrial fan blew the hot Texas air into his hotter garage. Sarah rode her bike around the driveway, purple fairy wings strapped to her back. She chatted on and on, no doubt caught up in a make believe land. He needed to take the training wheels off her bike. Maybe tomorrow he would have time.

Joel’s gaze drifted back over the supplies he’d bought at the hardware store this morning. Sarah had asked what he was making as her little legs struggled to keep up with his long strides. She’d noticed the unusual components he gathered. These weren’t for a job or the back porch he’d been working on all summer.

“Secret project” he’d winked at her and thankfully, she’d accepted it.

He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. He’d handled the whole situation badly. It was 2 am before Joel gave up the tireless pursuit of sleep and drawn up the plans. He currently wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew. He was a contractor. He did big projects like framing houses and decks. His fine carpentry skills left a lot to be desired.

Joel pushed those thoughts from his head. He could do this. He wanted to do this.

One lunch break, two first aid breaks, (a splinter in his thumb and a skinned knee for Sarah) and a nap (Sarah’s) later, Joel had all the pieces shaped and sanded. He couldn’t help but admire his handy work. Sure it was a simple design and yeah, it wasn’t assembled yet, but he’d made this. He just prayed it all fit.

Sarah colored at his workbench. She’d woken up not long ago and was still quiet from her nap. “Daddy, what are you making?”

“Top secret, baby girl.” He winked at her, pulling the wood glue and clamps from the cabinet.

She sighed in exasperation turning back to her coloring book. Joel hummed along to the classic rock station. His tshirt clung to his body wet with sweat. At 5:30, the temperature was just beginning its slow descent. He started to assemble to the first side, praying he’d made all the slots the correct size. That had been the most tedious part, ensuring it would all lock together properly.

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Are we going to have dinner soon?”

“Soon, I want to get this first side put together first.”

Sarah sighed, her hair floating up and then falling back over her eyes. Joel chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Why don’t you go grab a cheese stick to tide you over?”

“Okay.” She slid off the stool, running inside.

It slid together with relative ease. Only a few profanities dropped from his mouth when he dropped something or spilled the glue everywhere.

He was jerryrigging the clamps when Sarah squealed, darting out of the garage. He glanced up, just able to make out the blue sedan that pulled in behind his pickup. Your blue sedan.

Nerves coursed through him. He reached for his beer. It was warm and flat now, barely touched. Sharp power tools and alcohol don’t mix well. He ignored the taste, taking another gulp. After last night, fear and shame filled him.

Sarah held your hand, talking a mile a minute as if you didn’t kiss her Goodnight last night. You laughed at something she said, but he heard the way it doesn’t quite reach. The first thing he noticed were the dark bags under your eyes and the red rings around them. Guilt flooded him. You need sleep more than ever right now. He felt the exhaustion radiating off of you.

You attempted to make yourself more presentable before gathering the courage to come over. The shower helped, your hair still damp and curling. The mascara kept running so you left it.

 You round the corner with Sarah. Joel can hardly look at you. To be fair, you don’t really want to look at him either. You don’t want a repeat of last night but you can’t ignore the situation at hand either.

You finally call up the courage to look at him. You’d grown proud of yourself for learning the ins and outs of Joel Miller in the two years you’d known him. You could read him like the bedtime stories you read to Sarah, silly voices and all, but right now the pages of him blurred. Maybe that was just the tears you fought back.

“Sarah, do you want to grab your fairy wings to show-“

“Yes!” Sarah didn’t allow her father to finish. She was gone through the door in a flash of dark curls.

“She’s been excited to show you. Can’t believe she wasn’t wearin’ ‘em.” His Texas drawl popped out sending shivers down your spine. He forced a smile.

You wanted to return it, but other things pressed your mind. You weren’t good at diversion.

“Joel.” Your lip quivered and you hated yourself for it. You felt out of control right now.

He sighed. “Come here.” He cocked his head back stepping further into the garage.

The fan pushed air through your hair and skirt granting mellow relief to the heat.

 “I’ve been working on this.” He swallowed presenting his scattered workspace. He read all nerves but there was the briefest sense of pride too.

Pieces of carefully shaped and sanded wood laid about in piles. You caught sight of what he’d put together. “Porch railing?”

You failed to see the connection. Not to mention it looked too tall and narrow to be for the back deck. And what was with the arch? Was he trying to build a trellis? He’d been talking about putting in some raised beds for you and Sarah.

Was this some kind of joke? An “I’m sorry?” It hardly accounted for one.

“No, it’s a-“ he sighed, running a hand through his curls. He needed a haircut. You had planned to take the clippers to it last night until things went awry.

He picked his notebook up off the work bench. The leather bound one you got him for Christmas. You were convinced he didn’t use it. It sat on his nightstand and you were sure if you’d picked it up, you would see a dust outline. He handed it to you.

You could tell he hadn’t used it much but that didn’t really matter. Your breath caught, all else forgotten the moment your eyes landed on the page. It was rough, dotted with measurements and notes, but it was clear as day all the same.

Tears built up for a whole new reason.

“I stayed up all night working through the design. It's nothing extravagant, but it’ll be sturdy… and safe.” He stuttered.

You traced the design with your finger. All the doubts from the past 24 hours, gone just like that. “You designed a crib?”

“It’s cherry wood. I know that’s your favorite.”

“You designed a crib for our baby?” You stepped into his bubble. You couldn’t believe it. Of everything you anticipated tonight, this was not on the list.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for last night. I was a jackass-“

“Joel Miller, Shut up! You’re building this?”

You looked at him like he hung the fucking galaxy, and his heart settled. He knew the two of you would be okay.

 “Yes.”

 You kissed him, arms thrown over his shoulders, tears streaming down your face as the nightmare turned  into a dream.

You would hear his apology out in full later, lord knows you deserved it after last night, but right now, you just wanted to celebrate. Celebrate him, your love, and the little bundle of joy to join the three of you in 7 short months.

[hopes-peak-postal-company]

For Mod Hajime, i hope this doesnt sound weird but could you do a platonic fatherly yandere imagine post with Elias Bouchard? I like to imagine he fixates on a new Institute hire who doesnt know the fears are real and just decides "Its Child time. There is nothing I wont do to make my new child happy." But he also has to work around Jon and them getting in his way because they just dont GET that he's a Father now.

A FATHER'S LOVE!

"surely you'd choose your father over your friends, wouldn't you?"

summary. getting a job at a spooky academic institute offers toms of spooky outcomes. you just didn't expect to get a father figure and a overlyprotective friend group.

contents. platonic yandere! elias; elias is a wet cat grandpa; the archivist gang are slightly yandere; happens right after season 1

✦ It was difficult. Getting by in the big London city and rent to your flat was quite ridiculously high, even for usual london rent standard. But thankfully, a position in The Magnus Institute had opened and you managed to get the spot after wrangling out your best qualities to the HR like you're trading them.

✦ Now, you were aware of what you were getting into. I mean, an institute that's notorious for having many people going MIA or dying, but this was the only job that accepted you out of the millions you applied for and frankly, it pays better than most of them.

✦ So, you worked as the institute's librarian. It shocked you to know that they have their own personal library but at the same time, you kind of expected it. After all, it is an academic institute and there's bounds to be numerous books and soucres to cite for every statement given, regardless of how strange there are.

✦ You've met a couple on the job. Some were nice and often has small talks with you while some simply comes and goes, not even bothering to talk to you unless they're checking a book out. It was fine, of course, you can't help but feel disheartened. After all, all you do is stand by, organize the library and do nothing. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.

✦ And then, one day, a certain someone came to the library and it was no one other than big boss himself— Elias Bouchard. You never met the man before, only hearing him from Rosie and the others, but he is generally well-disliked by his own staff. You had nothing to complain about him and honestly, you find his company nice.

✦ He comes to the library whenever he has free time and then would talk to you. It wasn't just small talk, not just noise coming out of his mouth to fill in the silence, but he talked to you. He told you so many things— his opinions, his likes and dislikes —and even asked you about yours.

✦ Elias would listen intently, taking in every information about yourself in a manner so ... different from how he usually carried himself. Elias Bouchard was a prideful asshole and you knew that obviously well from just his body language, and yet when it comes to you, he is oddly soft. He reminds you almost like a dad for some reasons.

✦ And your relationship with your boss became like that. You didn't mind, you understand to some degree but even still you couldn't wrap your mind around why he chose specifically you. Maybe he didn't choose or maybe he did, but either way, this outcome was better than him hating you.

✦ But then, only a few months into your job, you suddenly got promoted to assistant archivist, joining the very few others in the archives in their day-to-day life.

✦ It was ... suffocating at first. The institute did suffer damage from the Prentiss Attack as you heard from the other employees and with the archives being the main target for the worms, it was not surprise that the Archivist and his team suffered greatly. Though injured, all of them still came back in one piece so that was a good thing.

✦ It took a while getting to know the others: Martin was the quickest to befriend and he'd bring you your favourite cup of tea whenever he can. Tim was the second, jokingly flirting with you at first but he was comfortable to be around and somehow both of your intensive knowledge on memes made the two of you friends. Sasha, on the other hand, took a bit more effort but in the end, she was just as fun and cheery as the other two outside work.

✦ Jon, on the other hand... He was wary, of course, a bit of an asshole too but you were determined to let his walls down, and so was the team. He gradually came to accept (aka get comfortable with) your existence and doesn't glare you like a cat you just rudely woke up.

✦ Elias... Elias isn't too pleased with this development though as you come find. He finds every excuse in the book to have you in office, stalling you just so he could spend more time with you. He had moved to the archives for one very specific reason and that was so he can watch you carefully.

✦ I mean, how couldn't he? You were so nice to him, oblivious to the concept of the entities and you didn't even care if he gets a bit 'spooky' (as Tim puts it) at times. In fact, he claimed you as his kid the moment you seem to play along with his 'little cryptid act'.

✦ But The Archival team... Oh, did they get on his nerves. But he couldn't do anything, no, he was sure you'll know and they'll tell you about what he truly is and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't lose you to them, so he'll have to just slightly abuse his power a bit. Just to have you be by his side a bit longer.

✦ Of course, Archivist and Co. can't stand by idly and watch him take their friend! And so, everytime Elias and one of them come to your desk at the same time, it's practically a tug of war for your affection and attention.

✦ It makes you laugh honestly, seeing them fight like this. Reminds you so much like a father trying to shoo away any his kid's admirers.... Only if you knew though, then you wouldn't be laughing.

notes. hi hii!!! tysm for requesting this!! i always wanted to write for tma but couldn't. ik this is a pretty old req (i think like .... from june i think?) and i wrote this months ago but forgot to finish

reqs are alwyas open!! and dont forget to reblog any of our works here on this blog, it help us a lot!!! ty again for requesting!

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 42

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sex (feat. Wire), mentions of murder

Open Doors

The next few days were... easy. That was the only way to describe them. After Kid had helped you remove the bullets, which took all of 10 minutes, you went about your daily chores, getting a lot of compliments on your new accessory, Killer especially seemed invested in it. You spent time with the girls, performing the sacred rituals: painting nails, face masks, gossiping, giving each other hair trims, even waxing each other. Heat joined in for everything but the last bit, even though it was mostly eyebrows and armpits. You sat in silence with Wire, mending nets. It was nice. There was no need to talk. You gave Mini a bath, having to borrow a swimsuit from someone which was a hair too small for you. She was too big for the bathroom so you were forced to do it on the deck. It was about halfway through when you noticed Kid had pulled up a chair, feet kicked up, with a beer in his hand, to enjoy the show. Others did the same, though they were far more discreet about it. Heat had been inspecting the same knot in the rigging for 20 minutes. In the mornings, you and Killer would have coffee together on the bow and watch the sunrise before making breakfast. Some days breakfast was late, much to Kid's chagrin, because Killer ate first. Telling Kid that "pussy was the most important meal of the day" was definitely what some would call a mistake. You had to flee several times to a more private place, because Kid had no qualms about laying you flat on the dining table. 

Lately, Kid had been coming to the infirmary a lot. A smashed finger here, a stubbed toe there, and he had an awful lot of inexplicable aches and pains. Then afterwards, he would linger and ask what you had done with your day or some other dumb shit like what your favorite things were. You hated the way you looked forward to his stupid smirk showing up on your doorstep. Every time he showed up, he would make the tag on your collar jingle to announce his presence instead of knocking. Sometimes you looked up for him when it jingled on its own, a conditioned response that you hated.

It was another night where you couldn't sleep, plagued by thoughts of the future. You were in the infirmary, trying to figure out what to do, even though you really didn't want to think about it at all. You found yourself staring at the place in the wall where the Big Fucking Hole used to be, a bit ashamed to admit that you missed it and all of Kid's silly antics. You went to the wall and put a hand on it. It glowed a soft yellow as a door manifested in that space. Part of it was metal, so that he could open it if he wanted, but there was a different non-metal lock on it, so that he couldn't open it if patients were in the room or you needed privacy. It was the type of door that rolled on a track, so that it would be completely out of the way when it was open. You weren't going to tell Kid about it, wondering how long it would take him to notice on his own. You didn't want to answer any questions about why you did it in the first place, because you didn't really know yourself. 

Later in the day, as you were helping make repairs to the ship with Reck and Pomp, Kid came barreling from around the corner, out of nowhere, yelling for you. You were alarmed, thinking something bad had happened. Kid skidded behind you, crouching to hide, with something in his hand. 

"Ya gotta protect me, Rottie!" There was a shake to his voice that sounded scared, but it was really him trying not to laugh.

You had your gun drawn and pointed where Kid had come from in half a second. Unlike the others, you actually listened and acted accordingly, only because Kid sounded serious, at least to your ears. Before Kid could tell you they were just fooling around, Heat came face to face with your barrel, well more like chest-level, since he was much bigger than you. Your trigger finger twitched, but thankfully didn't pull, recognizing Heat, who had jumped back. You let your breath out and holstered your weapon, with an apologetic look at Heat, who was beyond pissed.

"KID! I swear I'll kill you. Give it back!"

"Insubordination! Get him, doll!" Kid pointed at Heat from behind you.

It was hard not to laugh, when a huge, menacing beast was attempting to hide behind your much smaller frame. Kid knew Heat wouldn't lay a finger on you, but he would light Kid's ass up in a second. You were confused.

"I'm not fighting Heat to protect your ass." You looked over your shoulder at him. "What did you do? Give what back?"

"Kid, please. I'm begging you," Heat pleaded. "I'll give you my dessert for a month."

Kid pretended to think. "Mmm not good enough."

"I'll... do that thing you like."

Kid paused decidedly longer at that. "Tempting."

You snatched the paper from Kid's hand while he was distracted. You were about to hand it to Heat without looking at it, but realized it looked like a wanted poster. It was your wanted poster. It was... altered. You bit your lip to keep from smiling. 

"Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't know one day you'd be on the ship. Please don't hate me." 

Kid had made good on his internal promise to show you Heat's self-made pin-up of you. Wire and Killer were interested in what was going on, Wire more so because he caught a glance of your gun in Heat's direction, Killer because he knew Kid was being mischievous. 

"I don't know, Heat..." You teased. "I'm pretty upset." The poster was expertly combined with pictures from some racy magazine to make it look like you were totally naked on it. "Did you really think my boobs would be that small?" The model was fairly small-framed and petite. "I've got a bit more meat to me I think." 

It was Heat's turn to be confused. "You're not mad?" 

You shrugged. "It's kind of cute that you have a little celebrity crush on me." You handed it back to him. "Fix it, though. It's completely inaccurate." You stood on your tiptoes to reach Heat's ear. "And that's an order," you purred. You must have guessed his kink right, because when you came away, his face was red and he had a big grin on his face.

"Yes, Cap- Ma'am." Heat corrected himself so he didn't disrespect Kid, but he wasn't opposed to calling you "Captain" behind closed doors, in fact, he would be thrilled. He rushed away with his artwork before he could develop a raging boner in front of everyone. 

"I told him ya wouldn't be mad." Kid stated. 

"Kid! What if I had shot him!?" 

"Ya didn't." A smirk moved to grace Kid's features. "Now who's the guard dog," he said, flicking the tag on your collar.

"Whatever. Next time, I'll let you be incinerated." You walked away from Kid, catching Pomp, Reck, Killer, and Wire staring with amusement. "And what are you bozos looking at? Get back to work." 

Killer and Wire exchanged looks. "Bozos?" 

"Wait. Hang on. I didn't mean you." You glanced at Kid, contemplating switching roles and hiding behind him, but were too proud. It was too late. They had that look on their faces. 

"Better get ta runnin, doll," Kid chuckled.

You barely got two steps before you were slung over Killer's shoulder, Wire smirking down at you walking behind Killer. "You're just gonna let Smallest and Tallest steal me like this? I have work to do!" 

"Yer dismissed for the day." There wasn't much else to do anyway.

Several hours later, you were facedown in a pillow soaked with sweat and drool and tears, trying to muffle your screaming. It felt like your cervix was in a boxing match, and losing, with Wire's huge cock. You were sticky and sweaty, drying fluids on your back and thighs. Your thighs were going to give out from holding your body up for so long. They were shaking even though Wire was supporting most of your body. He and Killer made you climax so many times you lost count. At this point you were begging them to let you rest. Both sets of lips were swollen, from kissing or fucking depending on which ones. Your fingers were curled into the sheets so hard you thought your nails would put holes in them. 

"You're taking Wire so well." Killer was petting your hair, gently tugging it to pull your face from the pillow. "We want to hear you though."

"If we can't hear you, you're gonna have to do it all over again."

You whined. "I can't take much m-more." 

"You talked such a big game and now you're trying to tap out? That's too bad." Wire brought a hand down on your ass. "You're done when I say so." He grunted as your cunt clenched around him. 

"You can do it, darlin." Killer rubbed your back. He was done, throughly satisfied after taking turns fucking your pussy with Wire. You wanted them both at the same time, but Wire didn't think you were ready for that yet. Killer agreed. They were always the two that held back. Heat and Kid were all for whatever you wanted to do and barely ever told you no. 

"F-fuck." The muscles in your body tensed. You were so close, yet reluctant. 

"Come on then. Finish on this cock so I can give you want you really want. Which is what?"

"I want y-your cum. P-please, Wire."

"There's my good girl," Killer said, his hand slipping under your body to play with your clit. 

"A-ah." You fought the urge to smush your face back into the pillow. 

Killer, who had become well aware of the faces you made when you came, could tell you were close. "Cum for us. Let Wire know how much you appreciate him fucking you." 

You opened your mouth in a pained cry as an intense feeling of pleasure seeped into every fiber of your body. The inside of your thighs got considerably wetter. "T-hank you, Wire." If it weren't for him, you would be completely collapsed in a pile of mush in the middle of the bed. All your limbs felt like jelly. 

Wire pulled you tighter against him, shooting his load as deep as he could get it, doubling over you. He kissed between your shoulder blades. "Well done." 

As soon as he let go of you, you flopped on your back, exhausted. 

"Let's get you in the bath." Killer scooped you up.

Wire was putting his clothes back on.

"You're not coming?" 

"I'm too tall. Not comfortable." 

You blew him a kiss. "Night night then." 

"Night night." Wire scrunched up his face. He hated how that came out of his mouth. 

After Killer ran the hot bath, he got in the water and set you between his legs. He massaged your scalp as you laid on his chest, lazily washing your hair. You sighed contentedly, stretching out and letting Killer's hands wander as they pleased when he washed the rest of you. He made you feel so safe when you were in his arms. You'd never had a refuge like that before. You turned around and pressed a kiss to Killer's lips, which he gladly returned. 

There was a knock from the door to Kid's room. 

"Yeah?" Killer replied. 

Kid walked through. "Mind if I join ya?" He was already shedding clothing, and his metal arm, all over the floor. 

Your eyebrows pushed together. "You know how to knock first? And you asked permission? Where's Kid?" 

"Shut up. I can be a gentleman." Kid lowered himself on the other side of the tub. He pointed between the two of you. "So which one of ya is gonna wash me?"

You patted the water in front of you. "Come sit. I like to be sandwiched between my two favorite boys." 

Kid moved to sit in front of you. "Which one is yer favorite favorite?" 

"Well his name starts with K-I." You washed Kid's back, appreciating its broadness. 

"Ha! I knew it was me!" Kid paused. "Wait. Damn it." 

You laughed. There was no way you would choose. Killer irritated you way less, but Kid was devastatingly charming when he wanted to be. 

Killer caught your wrist when you strayed too close to Kid's stump. "Let me get that."

You were a little embarrassed that you didn't think anything of it, but obviously Kid might be sensitive about his injury. "Sorry." You wondered if you could give him his arm back, if he would like it back. You moved to sit next to Killer, watching him methodically wash around the missing limb.

It brought a smile to your face watching the two of them, who very obviously knew each other inside and out, trusted each other completely. You leaned against Killer, still very tired, not opposed to being sandwiched between them again in Kid's bed. You slept better that way. If Kid had noticed your remodeling project, he didn't say. You were a bit disappointed, eager to see his reaction. 

Killer turned his head to you. "Sing that again." 

"Huh?" You had been sining under your breath without being completely conscious of it, waiting for them to be done. "It's just the Bink's brew song." 

Kid groaned. "Killer, don't make her sing it. She's bad at it and that song is annoying." You could always count on Kid to be brutally honest.

Killer looked at you insistently. It made you self-conscious, especially now that he was staring, so you ran through the words quickly:

Gather up all of the crew, it's time to steal all Binks' brew. We will go, to where, who knows? The loot will be our guide. Robbed behind the tavern's side. Thieves and bandits far and wide. Whores they sing, of lustful things to pirates passing by.

"Wow, that was even worse than the first time. Nice." Kid snickered.

"The first time? Kid, you've heard her sing it before?"

"Yeah it was fucking awful. Opposite of a siren. Made me want to jump overboard." 

"Maybe you should have. Damn." You were regretting extending him an olive branch. 

Killer gave you a sympathetic look. "Where did you hear that version?"

"What do you mean? Everyone knows every island's got a spin on it." You were puzzled about where this was going. "It's the one from my island. My hometown." 

"KID!? You didn't recognize it?!"

"Fuck are ya talking about? Ya know I always hated that song. Sounds the same as when Heat used to sing it to get on my nerves." Kid seemed to think about it. "Hang on. That's why it sounded kinda familiar I guess." Kid went on. "Ha! That's funny. Yer island and our island had the same version."

You and Killer had shared a glance immediately when you both realized the connection. Kid was working on it, almost there. 

"No!" Kid snapped his head to face you. "Yer not...?!

"From an island that hasn't got a name because the leadership changes with the gangs? From an island built on crime? Yeah I am."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" 

"Come on. Let's talk about it in Kid's room. The water is getting cold." Killer suggested. 

"Why my room?"

"Because this one made a mess of my sheets," Killer wrapped a towel around your shoulders. 

You felt your face burn with blood rushing to your cheeks. "That's your fault," you mumbled. 

Kid refused to have you wear one of Killer's old shirts that you had become accustomed to. You were in his room, so you had to wear his shirt. Well, first he insisted that you didn't need to put anything at all on, but you had fought him on that. Kid didn't even try to mask his desire for you, eyes glued to your tits, and you really couldn't begin to fathom going another round with him. Killer and Wire wore you out. You had started to lay back down on Killer when he was settled. Kid stopped you and demanded that he get a turn because Killer had you all day and in the tub. It gave you a warm feeling to know that you were wanted. 

Kid went on and on about the adventures of the two of them and the trouble they would get into as kids. He explained that the four of them used to lead gangs themselves before they became pirates. Then he talked about how bad the food was there, when you could even get your hands on it, and how shitty it was to live in the environment as a kid. It made you jealous to hear of their time together. Maybe if you had something like that, you could have survived there. Eventually something would have happened to force your hand though, you were sure of it. 

"So what made ya leave? Other than all the shitty things I already mentioned." 

You took a deep breath. "You already know most of it. It was chaos, as you said." You continued. "Once all my friends were gone, I had no where left to go except to find another gang to join. And by then I was sick of that life. They weren't even friends really. We all just stuck together out of necessity." 

"What happened to them?" Kid asked.

"The same thing that always happens: they died, or they left, or they were stolen." You sighed. "Maybe it would have been different if I had met one of you." 

"No," Killer said. "You had to go your own way to be who you are now."

You snorted. "Would have preferred to skip the torture bit of 'going my own way'." You went on. "I was a sitting duck without a group. I finally decided to leave for good when I saw a girl a little younger than me get murdered in cold-blood. It could have easily been me there instead of her."

"What did the girl look like?" Kid's voice was melancholy. He had a hard time coming to the conclusion you were from the same island, but he already knew the answer before you replied in this case.

"Petite. Short hair. Freckles maybe. I don't know. She was far away."

"Victoria." Kid said, even more sadness in his voice.

"Her name was Victoria," Killer clarified. He was surprised to know that you were even closer to them than you realized, yet somehow never crossed paths. 

Kid moved from behind you to retrieve the picture he had of her. He handed it to you.

"Yeah... That's her." You had thought she looked similar to the girl from your past, but memories were fuzzy and you thought there was no way you could be from the same island. You were wrong. You gave it back to him. "I'm... sorry."

"So it wouldn't have been different if ya had met one of us. We couldn't even protect Victoria." 

You looked to Killer, who was equally sad. There was nothing you could say to make either of them feel better. It was clear that this was a deep wound that you couldn't heal. You felt like you were intruding on their private emotions. "I can leave," you said softly. You felt sorry for bringing it up unknowingly. 

"Please stay," Kid's voice was scratchy. 

Killer explained the whole story so you could put the pieces together. You had switched places with Kid so that his head was resting on your chest. You couldn't see his face, but you could feel the fabric against your chest become damp. He was crying. The only comforting gesture you could think of was to run your hand through his hair. Killer was sad, but he was always better at controlling his emotions. Kid wore his heart on his sleeve. Eventually, you could feel his breathing become slower and deeper and could hear snores coming from Kid.

"Is he okay?" You asked Killer, who was still awake next to you. 

"Yeah. Victoria was our first crush. Kid was head over heels for her. He was devastated, we both were, when she was killed. If he thinks about her for too long, he gets like this." Killer wanted to change the subject before he ended up like that too. "I can't believe all this time we were from the same island."

"Me neither."

"Wire and Heat are going to be beside themselves." 

Your eyes rested on Kid. A few months ago, this would have been insane to you. 

"Don't worry. He'll be the same Kid you know and love tomorrow." 

"Love is a strong word." You narrowed your eyes at Killer, suspicious that he was insinuating something.

"It is." You thought he had fallen asleep the pause was so long, but he continued, "Kid has grown very attached to the idea of you staying on the crew." And more softly, as if not to wake him, "Very attached to you." 

"Funny. He said a very similar thing about you."

Killer's eyebrows went up, a blush spreading across his face. "He did?"

"Well, his exact words were 'Killer really likes his little kitchen whore'." You laughed quietly, trying not to let your chest shake.

Killer huffed. "It's called a sous chef."

"That's what I fucking said!" Your voice was louder than intended. Actually, why were you two even whispering? A sea train could run over Kid and he would still be asleep. You noted that Killer made no other corrections to your statement. 

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