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ckret2 · 13 hours

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Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.

It goes so great.

As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.

"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.

"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."

"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"

"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"

Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?

Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."

"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."

Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?

####

When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.

"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."

Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."

"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."

"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."

They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—

—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.

"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"

"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"

"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"

Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."

But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."

"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.

Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"

"Yep!"

"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"

"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."

"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.

"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"

"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."

"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."

"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.

Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.

"All of them!"

Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"

"Yep! Every last one!"

"Is the design changing that much?"

"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"

"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"

"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"

"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."

"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."

Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.

He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.

On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?

After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"

"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.

"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?

But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"

"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.

This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.

Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"

"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"

"Loud and clear," Ford said.

"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."

Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"

"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."

Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"

"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."

"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...

He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"

"Is it working?"

"It was! Don't let us distract you."

Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—

"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"

"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"

Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."

"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"

"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."

Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...

Then something went wrong.

There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.

"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."

Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.

"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.

"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.

The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond.

They screamed.

"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"

They screamed again.

"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"

Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"

"Ow. What the heck, man."

Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it.

Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.

Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"

"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"

"How?!"

Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—

"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"

"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.

The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.

He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"

"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.

"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."

There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—

Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"

"What—!"

Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.

Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"

He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.

Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.

Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"

Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"

"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"

"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"

"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"

Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.

Ford said, "You're never doing that again."

"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.

"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"

"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.

"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.

Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.

"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.

For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.

Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.

"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"

Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."

####

"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"

Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.

Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"

Teeth waved his hands emphatically.

"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"

Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.

"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"

"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."

8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.

8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."

Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.

8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."

"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.

"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."

Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.

"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.

"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."

"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"

"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."

"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."

8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"

"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."

"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"

"I'm in."

"Teeth?"

Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."

"Big Z?"

Zanthar gave a thumbs up.

Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"

Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."

She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."

"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.

Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."

"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."

Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.

Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."

####

Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.

And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.

As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."

"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."

"So, we're doing the right thing?"

Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."

####

(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)

#dipper pines #stanford pines #grunkle ford #fiddleford mcgucket #henchmaniacs #(for the art & chapter)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(who doesn't make an appearance in this chapter but the whole fic's about him and nobody can shut up about him so he's getting tagged)#(is this the first chapter bill hasn't appeared in?? might be)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 days

Note

oo as a request can we please get a little more of dad!miguel. I love the little family reader & Miguel have in the Christmas/valentines stories and would love to see how a calm, happy day would be like in the O’Hara household.

AHHH so glad you love those ones! Always happy to write about you and Miguel and your happy family. 🫶🏽

Mom and Dad are Having a Family Movie Night

Miguel O'Hara x Fem Wife!Reader

CW: SUGGESTIVE, MINORS DNI, PREGNANCY, FLUFF. Gabi is Miguel's, Marcus is yours, you had Anthony together. No description of physical appearance for your children except Marcus looks like you and Gabi and Anthony both take after Miguel.

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

Word Count: 1.1k

Previous stories:

Mom and Dad are Fighting on Christmas

Mom and Dad are Fighting on Valentine's Day

Mom and Dad are Getting along

----

The bittersweet of late summertime meant you and Miguel were drinking in every last adventure you could, final summer as a family of five before the chubby baby girl in your belly joined the family in late fall.

On an August Saturday like this one when the rain made landmark all day outside signifying the commencement of the wet season, you and Miguel spent it building forts, making pizza, going on treasure hunts, and having little cozy snugglefests as a family in between.

For the grand finale, it was play pretend movie theater with Gabi in charge. Your belly protruding a little further out, skimming against the granite countertop as you popped the homemade popcorn.

With a large blanket hanging from the ceiling as the make believe curtain, Gabi graciously welcomed the patrons of the evening to their nighttime film.

"Step right up! Get your tickets here!" Gabi sat behind a makeshift booth in the kitchen with a sign tapped in front:

------

TICKETZ

NOW SHOWING

FROZEN 2 FINDING DORY TOY STORY 4

------

"Hello, Mayor Marcus."

Marcus stood in front of her with a name tag stuck to his shirt dubbing him as Mayor of the town at his preference.

"Good evening madam." Marcus stands up tall. "One ticket to Toy Story 4."

"Ah, well you see Mister Mayor, the only movie that is playing tonight is Finding Dory."

Marcus furrows his brow, poking the sign. "How come it says Toy Story 4? That's false advertising."

Gabi folds her arms. "Now Mister Mayor, do you want to see the movie or not?"

"MOM!" Marcus whines. "Sissy isn't letting me choose the movie!"

You look over your shoulder from your place at the stove,

"Marcus, honey, remember it's Sissy's turn to be in charge of movie night."

Marcus grumbles but is a little reassured when you remind him he gets to pick next time, reluctantly handing Gabi his American Express.

"Thank you for your patronage! Enjoy the movie. Next!"

Miguel walks up, bending down to Gabi's level.

"Hello, Ms. Gabi. One ticket to Finding Dory, please."

"We don't accept MasterCard."

Miguel raises his eyebrows but reaches in his wallet for another one. "Rules must have changed since I've been here."

Gabi gives him a suspicious look as she takes the new credit card, running it through her Barbie cash register, waiting for a few moments as she drummed her fingers.

"Sir, your card declined."

Miguel raises an eyebrow. "I can assure you I have plenty of money. Try it again."

"I don't make the rules, I just work here." Gabi folds her arms with a look of sass.

"Is that so? "Miguel mirrors the sass, crossing his arms playfully. "I'm going to need to speak to your manager."

"Anthony!"

Your adorable, pudgy three year old with his applesauce cup waddles up to the pretend register.

He looks at Miguel then at Gabi, "What am I 'posed to say Sissy?"

Gabi sighs and bends down, whispering in his ear before he turns to Miguel.

"Sir, imma gonna have to ask you to leave the 'stablishment!"

"Really, says who?"

"Me, the owner of this house!" Anthony says putting on his best war face. "You're banished for forever."

"Banish my fists of fury!" Miguel attacks Anthony in a fit of tickles and giggles, with Gabi screaming and running away. "Not so fast!" Miguel grabs her around the torso as she squeals in delight.

Marcus laughs at all the action, joining in by doing a windup and a cannonball into the chaos, but all three kids are no match for Miguel as they all wrestle in the kitchen while you watch with a smile on your face.

Soon, all three kids have their goodies that they "bought" at the concessions booth.

"That'll be $20." Gabi told Miguel as he ordered his popcorn.

"These prices are ridiculous!"

"At least she's being realistic. Makes the experience more believable." You wink at Miguel as you hand him his popcorn from across the counter.

He smirks at you. "Got any plans after this, Miss?"

Gabi chastises you both. "No flirting with the employees!"

---

Soon the whole family was curled under blankets on the floor in the pillow fort Marcus and Gabi built for the movie. Popcorn for Miguel, Gabi, and Marcus, and Goldfish crackers for Anthony so he didn't feel left out. Along with M&Ms, gummy worms, Swedish Fish, Milk Duds and other candies traditional to movie theaters, and little juice boxes to wash it all down.

At one point you just looked up at your husband, completely absorbed in the movie, and then at your children giggling and laughing at all the funny parts despite seeing it a million times, before they all soon passed out. The late hour and abrupt crash from the temporary sugar fix causing them to go down without much resistance.

Miguel scoops up Gabi and Marcus while you handle little Anthony, depositing the sleeping littles in their beds, tucking them in tight and kisses goodnight.

You and Miguel spoon side by side in your bed, relishing the warm comfort of each other's presence after a long day, the one you'd be left with when all is said and done, his hand on your belly and both breaking into big smiles when he feels a shallow kick from the unborn baby girl inside.

You drown in the comforting scent of your husband and his strength and warm mouth enveloping you, thumb drawing circles on your belly as his lips and tongue lovingly mingled with yours, the soft groans from his throat gradually coaxing you to a slightly hotter state, but he smiles against your lips.

"Don't push yourself baby...I'm okay just enjoying you like this..." As he leaves one more lasting peck to your lips, before he travels to both cheeks, your eyelids, and finally your forehead.

"Hard to not want it when you kiss me like that..." You softly groan.

He gives a low chuckle, eyes raking over your face for the millionth time yet somehow found something new to love about you in each time he did.

"You might get lucky in the morning, Mrs. O'Hara. For now, relax and enjoy the moment...."

Your breath hitches when his lips start moving down your jaw, past your neck, sneaking lower.

"Okay, I'm definitely not tired anymore."

Miguel smiles against your skin. "Me neither..."

You close your eyes and lend yourself to the feeling of his lips blazing a hot trail down your body.

"Don't stop..."

"Wasn't planning to..."

"My God, Miguel..."

"Patience, baby..."

"I just..."

"What?"

"I love you so much..."

Miguel pauses his work, leaning that angelic face of his on your belly as you take small shuddered breaths.

"I love you more..." He smiles as he answers, slowly beginning to resume, gradually breaking all promises before to keep things chaste, breathy giggles as you keep it down so the kids don't hear.

----

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

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kaszuma · 19 hours

Text

Second Guesses | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 4 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: you and Soshiro have never once addressed your relationship. But that all changes when he sees a man hand you a drink.

warnings: mentions of alcohol. Adult drinking. Afterparty drinking. Hint of Jealousy, Nothing too serious.

wc: 2,836

---

note: Not proofread. Not really good at writing jealousy for Soshiro. I assumed he'd be more subtle in his advances. I've already planned out the next part. Might be getting an NSFW scene soon. So stay tuned.

---

It's been a few days since you've established this strange relationship with the Vice Captain of the Third Division.

All those admiring glances and careful touches have now been pried open to reveal lasting kisses in the hallways of the early mornings when no one was watching. Even in the heat of the afternoons, he made it very clear to you that he was handsy. Desperate to be close to you. And his palms, which had often been restrained to make innocent touches on your shoulder. Would evolve into a hasty fit of grabbing. Slotting themselves around your waist, subtly spelling his name on the small of your back. All a ploy to pull you much closer when you kiss.

And you reciprocated all the same by running your hands through the smooth roots of his hair. Scratching the gradual taper down to the base of his neck. Where you'd feel him shudder from your touch. Desperate enough so that he stops you from your movements to reply back with an even larger gesture.

Like you had deserved the world and back.

But despite the risky kisses you two would share in the middle of work. Soshiro had made sure that no one was watching. Keeping his loving glances to the privacy of your eyes. Letting not a single person witness his affection for you.

Not letting anyone get any dirt on him. And surprisingly, he was pretty good at keeping this situation between you two a secret.

From pulling away the moment you'd hear voices. Or looking around to see if cameras and voice recordings were within reach.

And luckily since he had access to most of it, he'd easily be able to remove the evidence before Captain Ashiro can check herself.

And should they be discovered? Soshiro was a master of evasive manipulation. Likely with his words alone, he'd be able to wriggle his way out of the situation and make up an excuse for the both of you so that you won't be caught in the awkwardness of it all. Both a boon and a bane to be dealt with.

Though, you highly doubt it would ever come to that situation.

Because for as long as you remember. Despite the guise of his easy-going persona. He was still the respected Vice Captain everyone knew him as. And like his responsibilities. He remained disciplined, loyal to Kaiju slaying. His meticulousness shows in the way he practices his swordsmanship to the privacy he has with you. He keeps his cards close and you even closer.

He holds you as if you were a treasure he found and was unable to share, lest you be taken away from his safekeeping.

And God forbid, if something happened to you.

There would be hell to pay.

And like all his bad habits. He had been able to keep up this persona. Even with you, it seems he still isn't used to that newfound feeling that he's come across. He wasn't used to the ever growing importance you had on his life.

Unable to comprehend the feelings that bloomed within him when you managed to crawl your way into his hardened heart. And now that you're there, he doesn't know whether to hold you tighter or not.

And for whatever reason. You understood that sentiment exactly. Even when those words never left his mouth.

Although it wasn't ideal, you had decided not to confront his aversion to public intimacy. If he had not decided what you are to him. Then so be it. You would be nothing and everything to him, if that helped ease his mind.

Soshiro was a busy man. He was often the last person to shut off all the lights in the training room. And the first person to grab a cup of coffee in the mess hall. And to ruin that routine now, and ask for his confirmation of exclusivity? You’d rather not overwork the poor man who already has enough on his plate. The task was still far too early a concept for the both of you to grasp.

So, you let the man be.

As much as it did sting to see him ignore your presence entirely instead of greeting you in the crowded mess hall. You had not moved from your spot. Letting Soshiro take the lead. Only hearing the trace of his faint laughter ring out as he answered vaguely from the few questions he'd get from some of the officers.

And you smile knowing fully well that he had not alluded to you at all when someone asked if he was seeing anyone.

That is until that persona of his cracked unexpectedly..

It was the evening after a successful mission. The third division had just gotten back from exterminating an army of Yoju in the area. And just like its repertoire, no casualties were sustained during the attack. Not even a broken combat suit that needed fixing. Which made your job a little easier no doubt.

And now, the entirety of the Third Division had been invited out to drink. Renting a large bar down the street, nearest the base.

It hadn't been a few minutes since you sat down. Recognizing a few operators like Okonogi who invited you to sit down next to her. She had excused herself momentarily, likely a trip to the restrooms. When suddenly a martini slid towards you. It had the color of liquid poison, and it reminds you that you haven't had a single drink that night. Unlike the few rambunctious folks who had cheered when a glass of beer was poured to their glasses.

The moment you turn your head you see the telltale signs of an Officer staring right back at you. His grin was one you hadn't recognized, languidly pushing the pretty glass towards you where it was within reach. His cheeks aflame from the steady intake of alcohol.

He was likely a new officer. A recruit from this year's batch. Otherwise, you'd have recognized him from the plenty of times officers would come by to the lab to have their weapons upgraded or repaired.

“Drink up! It's a successful night after all.” He moved uncomfortably closer. And you could smell the stench of his breath that made you want to cringe away. But you didn't really want to seem rude, so you gently nudged him back. To leave enough room between the two of you. Luckily he had seemed to have gotten the hint and poured another glass for himself.

“Want another one?”

The encouragement makes you smile. He had likely not realized that he had been talking to the wrong person. Too drunk to notice that you weren't an officer like the rest of the people in the bar.

“No thank you. I'm good.” you said. “Though, you might consider drinking some water? Maybe it'll help you sober up.” You gestured to the bartender. Though the martini is handed to your palms before you could raise your hand. And you caught yourself before the liquid could make a mess and spill all over the place.

“The night's still young and it's rare that the Captains are treating us to a drink.” He convinced you. And you find yourself second guessing, staring at your drink in thought.

It did look like a very expensive martini. And from the looks of the officer that had offered it to you, he'd been chugging down his own set that he had ordered himself. Already moving on to give you some of his glasses that he had planned to drink.

It wouldn't hurt to taste it, right?

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.” You had interjected, already moving the petite glass to your lips.

What you hadn't realized however, was the intense stare you'd get from the back of your head. Red eyes line your figure from across the room. And the bottle of Sake he had ordered was long forgotten at his table with Captain Ashiro.

Before you knew it, the glass rim had been blocked by a hand. And you could see the appearance of an arm obscure the right side of your vision. Blocking both the drink and the drunken gaze from the officer in question.

“Don't ya know you shouldn't accept drinks from strangers, sweetheart?”

Soshiro's husky voice quivered from behind. And you could hear the way his chest rumbled as it pressed against your back. Hand already putting the martini back on the table, away from your lips.

“Vice Captain..?” You hear the officer exclaim in slow syllables. And suddenly the man shot up in a salute. Though dazed from the drinks he clearly had, the rest of the officers behind him had laughed. Clearly amused that the Vice Captain had made an appearance, with an audience no less.

And that was enough to turn your head around to meet his eyes.

And his smile. The smile that had always been difficult to read, had not faded at all the moment you faced him. At least not entirely, as it looked a little irritated. More forced than usual. It seems you're starting to get better at reading his grins. At least, to some extent.

“At ease, we're just about to leave.” He spoke nonchalantly. His gaze not once leaving yours. Which makes your breath hitch slightly.

Your eyes had darted around, first seeing the perplexed faces of the officers. And then seeing the calm expression of both Okonogi and Captain Ashiro just eating some karaage from the sidelines. With the bespectacled girl in particular, clearly enjoying the attention both you and Soshiro had received. She had probably returned long ago and saw the commotion happening.

Likely alluding to the fact that they had already been made aware of their strange relationship. Which makes you a little calmer, knowing that this hadn't been an official work setting. Celebrations at the bar is one thing, but plenty of the Third had still been present, making this seem all the more exposed than ever.

Shit.

Why was he here?

Wasn't he afraid of letting people know about them? or whatever situation their relationship was at the moment. He had made it very clear that he wasn't keen on his admission. Not a single word from his lips that they were more than friends. Let alone lovers. What's changed?

“We were?” You had whispered to him.

“We are. So let's go, yeah?” He simply gestures for you to stand up, hand on the small of your back whilst pointing his chin to the direction of the door. Though before he could gently lead you away the same officer had squinted his eyes. As if a strange idea had popped into his head, but had doubted the premise for it to be factual.

“Where are ya’ going, Vice Captain? You can't just pick girls up like that..” You had seen the small twitch on the corner of Soshiro's lips. It quivers in that irritation you knew well. And it was just their luck that this drunken officer had spoken his thoughts out loud.

Shit. You decide to intervene. “No need to worry, I was just about to grab an uber back to base anyway-”

“What?” Soshiro had looked at you. “No yer’ not, do you know how late it is?”

You had flinched upon hearing Soshiro's firm voice. A first in which he spoke to you with a slightly raised tone. And you could feel the curious stares in your direction.

“Yes, I am.” You said. “And the Vice Captain here is only going to escort me out until my ride is here.” You say between gritted teeth. The sorry excuse of a reasoning was sloppy at best, but you had at least hoped some people had just gotten the picture and left the topic alone.

But Soshiro couldn't help but sigh, remorseful of the way he had raised your voice at you like that. He was only concerned for your safety. And added to the irritation of prying eyes, he didn't mean to reveal so much just from one sentence of his.

“No, Just-” He starts, “Listen, I'll take ya home myself. I don't want ya out this late. Now come on.”

He had grabbed your wrist. Already pulling you along to the exit. Of course, this had garnered stares from their audience. And although some had been wise enough not to ask further questions.In fear of insubordination, it seems not everyone had been sober enough to read the room.

“Woah..Am I missing something here? It's like you two are dating.” The officer had taken a sip of his martini. Curiously glancing around and back at the two of you.

And Soshiro looks back at the crowd who now had incredulous looks on their faces.

“Got a problem with that, soldier?” He spoke with his eyes open. Deep crimson staring at the soldier who could barely stand from the Alcohol he consumed. And you could feel the way Soshiro had nudged you past the door before you could meet any of their prying eyes.

“N-no sir.” He had gulped, turning around to pour himself a shot. Likely already knowing that he might've done himself in by the look at Soshiro's face. His expression, though laid-back as usual, had spoken everything it needed to tell him.

And he was definitely going to run laps, or clean bathrooms the morning after.

“You there. Remind him tomorrow morning to meet me in my office.” He pointed towards the Officer that was nearest the drunken man. Who had proceeded to drink another glass. And before he could hear the response. He walks out the bar's entrance, with you in tow.

Immediately you turned towards him. Brows furrowed in response to his strange behavior. Jealousy was one thing, but now you had an even bigger question. A more sincere one, that you didn't think would be a possibility until now.

“Did you really mean that?” You spoke hesitantly. Watching him walk past you, fishing out the keys for his car.

“Mean what, sugar plum?” and you had half a mind to roll your eyes. Suddenly baffled that his demeanor changed so quickly.

“Don't change the subject. Do you or do you not mean it?” She had stopped walking. And halfway on his step Soshiro had turned towards her. A hint of shock on his expression, but it was so miniscule that you were second guessing if it was truly there.

And his grin had been all the same.

…

Silence would engulf the two for a moment. The type that had been sickening if it went on for too long. But Soshiro hadn't let it get that far. And he spoke.

“I mean it.”

He had turned to avoid your gaze. His hand fidgets to fish out the keys in his pockets, despite having already found it long ago. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a while..I just..didn't know how.”

“So you shamelessly announce it to the entire Third Division?” You couldn't help but smile. Reaching out for his hand until she held him firmly. And his touch had all but devoured her warmth.

“Do ya’ have to remind me?”

“Yeah. You dug your own grave on that one.” A chuckle escaped your lips. And he turns to you. With unusually pink cheeks that had reddened up to his ears. A rare sight to behold it seems.

“So?” He started. “Do you want to? Be with me, I mean.”

“Hmm…let me think..” You had walked much closer to him. Until you were practically chest to chest with his solid form. And before you knew it, you were leaning up to capture his lips for a momentary kiss. Taking his breath away like all the times he had done the same to you.

Though, you hadn't expected his immediate reply when he slid his free hand to your jaw. Replying back with purposeful kisses. This time, slow and drawn out. Not at all the rush you were used to from all the kisses prior. The haste was likely a result from not wanting to get caught.

And the moment you pull away, you could see the familiar cheeky grin he has on that face of his. Thumb running across the underside of your jaw. “I assume that's a yes?”

“What do you think, genius?”

You feel yourself be pulled into a tight embrace. And you could smell the fresh laundry of his uniform invade your senses. His scent had been all but intoxicating. Relaxing you to the bone. Helping you feel safe within his arms that not even a single Kaiju would dare threaten.

“Yer’ really keepin me second guessing huh? I suppose I deserve that.” He spoke, burying his face against the crown of your hair. Relishing in the feeling of your steady form.

And he supposes he'll have to ask a thousand times more if he was allowed to.

So that no more second guesses are made.

#anime #hoshina soshiro x reader #kn8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #Situationship Soshiro Hoshina #Jealousy arc with Soshiro Hoshina

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mulderscully · 3 days

Text

hey, everyone.

this is the longest break i've taken from tumblr and it's been nice to clear my head. i'm gonna try to stay away a few more days but i don't want anyone to think i'm ignoring their asks or gifsets i was tagged in.

the reason i decided to take a break is because there is one specific rwr/b person who has been borderline harassing me. a few weeks ago this person sent me an anon abt how nick hates the movie etc, whatever, then sent me another ask immediately after sent me a message with anon off by accident. the blog was completely empty, and to me, obviously someone from twitter trying to start drama.

i blocked the anon and the blank account.

then a few nights ago nick's team archived around 70 posts from his instagram including some rw/rb related posts. an anon sent me a message about how nick deleted "almost everything" related to the film and that they thought the sequel was gonna be cancelled bc of that, completely leaving out that he/his team deleted a shitton of posts about other past projects as well, and that this clearly is not specific to anything.

i was pretty fed up at this point but not actively freaked out until the same anon sent me another message with anon off, from an empty blog, with the same url as the last one that i blocked with an added letter at the end. this means they remade their empty blog with a new email address to do this. that shit is weird and why i need to take a break.

i'm already really stressed. i work two jobs, i've been sick for a week and a half, and i'm just working through living with roomates for the first time after living in an abusive household half my life. fandom is meant to be fun, and i am not going to let weirdos ruin that for me.

i'm logging off again for a bit now, love you guys 💖

#personal

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drdemonprince · 2 days

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I went to visit my friend from high school for spring break in college one year. I'd had a crush on him in hs, it was not reciprocated but we remained close. I was also a late bloomer sexuality wise so it wasn't until college that I even would have been up for anything physical. ANYWAY. Decided to visit, figured this was my shot to try and act on that crush again. On the drive from the airport he came out to me as gay so, I figured, that's that. Explains why he wasn't into me in hs and why he didnt really have a reason back then.

I'm determined to hook up w someone on this trip though, so that's always simmering. We hang out with his local friend who is having a will-they-wont-they thing with a guy in their grad program. She is desperate to hook up but he's hot and cold.

We concot a plan to bait him with a possible threesome, spend an evening texting and sending him pics of us making out in a pool. (It's Miami, it just seemed like the thing to do lol) This guy is into it but he's busy that night and nothing comes of it.

A few days pass then it's my last day in Miami, my flight leaves at 6 am the next morning. She calls my friend after dinner like, holy shit it worked, he's coming over now, can you guys get here?

I'm like, fuck it, let's go. I'll bring my luggage and you can just drop me at the airport at 4 am or whatever. Forgot to mention, my friend from hs also has a crush on this other guy, so he's been down to help however he can haha

We arrive, the other guy isn't there yet, the three of us are drinking that whipped cream vodka that was popular at the time while we wait. Dude finally shows up AND HE BROUGHT A FRIEND. Unclear if he warned her ahead of time. Friend is... less cute but whatever, they brought weed. We smoke and dance some bachata and flirt etc...

Tbh my memory gets a little hazy here but somehow she ended up taking grad school guy and his buddy up to her bedroom, and I'm alone w my hs friend, we are smasheddd. I ask him, hey I know you're into guys but do you wanna fool around anyway? And we ended up making out in the bathroom, I tried going down on him but he was too drunk to keep it up so we petered off, then decided to go check on the others bc we realized we left this girl alone w two dude we barely knew.

Well they we having a merry little threesome upstairs and when we came to the door they invited us to join in!

That is how I ended up with my ass in the air getting railed by two strangers while I ate this girl out like a starving person. Grad school guy actually did us a solid w his friend bc that guys cock was huge. My only regret is I didn't get a chance to suck that guy off ;(

Eventually, they headed home and my hs friend and his friend stayed up w me until 3 am when I called a cab to the airport (idk why I ever thought we'd be sober enough to drive). Again, this was Miami but I'm fairly sure I won skankiest person in the supershuttle, which the exhibitionist in me loved. Slept it off on the plane home!

No regrets, best spring break of my life, opened my eyes to group sex and I still got to hook up w my hs crush :) and we stayed great friends!

ANON this is the most late 2000's story fucking ever. pinnacle whipped cream vodka. messily negotiated threesomes. people showing up to the sex party with surprise extra guests. gay guys fucking women. everybody being notionally bi but also not really. near drunk driving. i've been at parties exactly like these. my first apartment in college in 2007 had a pool and we were skanking it up in there miami style all the time. cheers dude

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miguel-ohara-wifey · 16 hours

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Oooh! Request idea for Miguel that I've been dying to see: What about a Lighthouse Au with Miguel as a sailor, and reader is a lighthouse keeper (could be fem or gender neutral, up to you!)

And we are stuck inside the lighthouse one stormy night and don't particularly like each other/are strangers but the forced proximity makes us warm up to one another 😏🤭 could be smut or fluff, whatever your preference! TY LOVE 🖤🖤🖤

Don’t chu you worry, imma make em fuck-

But also went kinda crazy with it (sorry this took so long)

Here I am

LightKeeper!Reader x Sailor!Miguel

Rating: 18+

Warnings: afab masturbation, voyeurism, PiV sex, biting, missionary, cowgirl, fingering, friends to lovers, established relationship, unprotected sex, time periods all over the place cause shut up

You turned on the mechanism which crowns the tower you called your home. A rotating pillar of white spins about the stormy evening. Breaking the seamlessly sewed together black sky and black waters into two. It’s gentle heat rushing through your back as you watched the Neuva York Sea.

Every day this bright bulb hung above your bedroom. The jewel of the 2099 coast, planted on the crawl of rocks on the north most point of the beach. Every evening; cold, hot, dry, moist, clear, or thundering. At exactly sunfall; no matter the holiday, tradition, time, or traffic. Your fingers would strangle the grip of the large switch connected to the light. By suns dip into the live dividing the sky and sea. The red tip of the pole would face down.

So the pillar of light would shift around the sky; it’s certainly a lonely job. Only ever leaving on the one bumpy road out of your home for food and water. Unable to leave for longer than two to three hours. Living in a light house loses its charm when your work is literally your entire life.

Everybody must come to you now. Your schedule rotates around when the sun goes down. Sure it’s a pretty view, but it’s all a mural of monotony after a few years. Expect once every 3 months of every year.

A certain muscular, olive skinned sailor with a big heart and grimacing bravado comes back from a shipment voyage. To spend a couple days with you, the pair of you met when he came to your door two years ago. Having nobody on the main land to visit or spend time with. He brought you pizza and asked to have dinner. Ever since he’d come with food to visit and catch up. What became a necessary encompaniment; was a beloved friend…sometimes you wished more. A lot of times you wished more.

Once the beam has flashed onto the ocean at the right angle. Unveiling for a flash USSS Neuva York, on an incoming ship right on time. You knew you had a couple hours to get ready.

A thorough shower with peony scented body wash and shampoo. Blow dry your hair and let the wind swept curls set in. As you apply natural look make up to your face. Meanwhile getting yourself in cool yet casual clothes. To put worth effort while still making it look effortless.

Even unconsciously you knew this would be more effort than it’s worth. He’s staying a few hours until he goes back to his hotel room at most. You’re his only friend that he doesn’t sail with for months on end. You’re certain it’s just the machinations of a waning crush. But after an anxious hour passes, of dutifully cleaning up your dining room and kitchen. The doorbell lets free the butterflies in your stomach. You swallow your eager awkwardness and open the door knowingly.

You see Miguel before you; his 6,1 brown gaze looking down into your eyes. As he held pizza and bread sticks in one hand. And the wings he knows you like in the other “hey stranger…” he flirts playfully.

You grin, taking the pizza and Breadsticks out for his hands as he walks inside after you.

~~two hours later~~

An empty pizza box splayed itself between you two in your dining room table. The breadsticks already gone, while your third and his second drink of whiskey you’d only bring out for these occasions dressed beside it. The gentle drumming of rain pours alongside the walls of your home. As the stone on in the inside hears the music of your laughter and chatter.

“-THEN the seagull flew away with her sunglasses!”

He almost choked with his mouth full of bacon and pepperoni pizza. Punctuating the conclusion of your story of being a witness to Seagull terrorizing a family of five. And when the bird was successfully shooed away it stole the family moms sunglasses.

As you cackled with him; your eyes shut by the strain of recalling the story. He steals a glance to take in your beautiful visage. Your smile lines gleaming towards him, half eaten pizza in hand. As your gorgeous sea wind bent locks fell down your head. These sensations he has; seeing and listening to you. Is what the beauties of the sea can never provide.

Once he managed to breath again and consume his food. Miguel retorted “oh my god..if all this pizza wasn’t killing my stomach laughing at that story just did..” you chuckled and played with your hair. Biting your lip to boot, he grinned back at you in silence for a single heartbeat.

But then you sadly fold your lips back into place, and drop both your hands to your thighs. “Guess it’s time to go now huh?…” you sighed out, the air between you grew cold as Miguel’s eyes dropped to the floor. The first breath of a question still held back by his tongue.

He squirmed to ask you something, a fact you picked up on “something on your mind?” He finished his whiskey in a split second after you prompted a response. His brain swimming in liquid courage he could finally ask.

“I was hoping to stay here tonight…if that’s okay.” You were shocked; but friends let each other crash on there couch all the time. Why would this be weird, unless your crush on him makes it weird. You’re just helping out a friend stop making it weird.

“Oh yeah! Of course you will-CAN can do that yup-“ your uneasiness doesn’t buy his confidence “if it doesn’t put you out of course.” You shook your head “No no, please it’ll be easier anyway.” He mumbled “alright alright cool, thank you…” the silence was strong enough to crack the stone walls of the tower. You stood up more suddenly than intended, announcing like a news caster “I’ll clean up and get you a blanket to sleep on the couch-“ he nodded in a wordless thank you.

The ending was always the worst of it, not just that you’d never see him for three months. Or the strong possibility one day he’d never come back at all. However the confirmation every time he’d let the light pass into your door once more. That he wouldn’t stay for you. The ocean is his love, and you envied her.

~~30 minutes later~~

Mince the dining table was cleaned, everything below Miguel’s ankle hanging off the side of the couch as he slept on it. You were perched on the last step of the stair case leading to your bed room. Peaking out to ensure your surprise guest is asleep, once you’ve confirmed he is.

You lightly tap your toes against the tops of the steps. Carefully avoiding the squeaky bored on the third one from the top. Once you shut the door behind you into your room. Sparsely decorated and on an aging mattress. You pull out your vibrator from a box underneath your bed frame. Double checking that you don’t hear a sound from downstairs.

You shut on the device, it violently wiggles in your arm making a soft vrrrrrrr.

In just your nicest bra and panties, you slip the the device right past your underwear. With the cover pulled over your chest. With every feeling, sensation, and probing of your most sensitive area that follows.

Your mind drifts to Miguel, your very skin clinging the daydream of him caressing you. Of his teeth sinking past the surface of your flesh to bite you. As his cock seathes itself inside and outside of you. Gently, and with passion.

Your fingernails tear at the seams of your bedsheets as your imagination becomes wilder. The thought of him not even using protection. Wanting all of you so much so he’d happily risk getting you pregnant to make you his. Wrestling against your tongue is the thought of his own mixing into your spit. Sweat above his brown rubbing onto your head as he begins to thrust harder into you. While cradling you close as possible, both of you equally wanting to become one.

Your curling toes collect some of your sheets as this nightly fantasy persists. And Miguel’s visage darkens your door. He himself has completely forgotten how long he’s been standing there. Looking at you masturbating under the veil of your bedcovers. Your eyes glued closed, and his movements non existent. Neither sight nor sound would give him away. His underwear grew tighter as the hottest porno he’s ever seen plays out right in front of him.

He’s brought back to reality when you moan “Miguel…please AH Miguel-“the drunken toned ramblings of the most beautiful woman he knows in heat. Partially draped by her bed covers in the lantern lit room.

A silent debate raged behind his eyes, he should go back to bed and pretend he didn’t see this. He has to be on the next ship tomorrow at five am or there goes his job. To spend another three months away from the only person who truly knows him. Who wants him as much as he wants her…but would she even want this? Like this?

“MMHF-AH AAAH-“ His erection now grew painful in between his thighs. He’d have to make a decision fast as you’ve now orgsamed with the vibrator you pretended was his dick. As you sighed with sweat gliding down your face, and your fingers likely sore from holding the device for so long. He could do so much better, he wants to be the one to make you feel good.

He wants your insides hugging his manhood, while he holds you hand and warms your body with his muscles. For those sensations; it’s better than his own bed, his own room. Worth more than any paycheck, more than a sky and ocean surface of stars.

After a few moments of letting you steady your breath. Still unaware he was standing in your doorway. He lightly knocks, with his decision made.You jolt your eyes open, leer up and hide the vibrator you know he already saw under your sheets.

“MIGUEL-um uh, how long were you standing there?” He swallows and says “Long enough, I’m in love with you….” Individually those statements would send a shockwave inside your ribcage. But together, a terrifying numbness sets in.

You can’t feel the chilly ocean air, the slippery silk of your sheets. Or the heat pooling in the middle of your hips. Everything’s still and silent, as if time has stopped everywhere. Until you know what to say.

“What?” You breathe out, he walks further into the center of your bedroom “I’m in love with you, and I will never go on any ship again if you feel the same….” Your face bends up in an infectious grin “Yes I love you, take me miguel…” he throws his shirt over his head. Brushing his hair into a mess before it collapses into the floor.

He sinks into the wooden bed frame with a loud creak as his mouth devours your own. Your tongue playfully resisting him. Moments later all clothes litter the floor, including your own bedsheets.

As he’s bottomed out inside of you, it’s the largest thing you’ve ever had in your vagina. But it’s a lovely stretch, and a squeeze you look forward to getting used to. As his hips are sliding against your own his thrusts are gentle. Room for your walls to get used to him.

His ears propped right beside your mouth, capturing every moan and pleading for more. Feeling the rush of pants on the side of his face as he continues. His muscles tenderly crush you into the mattress. Meanwhile your nails get just as close with the surface of his skin. Scratching him in ways that make him growl in ecstasy.

His left hand is in yours as well, while you sing into his ear “oh god…yes Miguel yes…don’t stop. Make me yours please…” the cock drunken melody made him go wild. But he resisted the urge to ram himself into you. Even when he knew this was the time to make love and be patient. He’s a man starved; not just for any woman. But for you, he can’t decipher how long he pleases himself with just his own hand. Desperate to mimick what you might feel around him.

With the need for imagination gone, he can’t be satiated with just a lick. He needs a mouthful, immediately he sinks his teeth into your neck. Not enough to draw blood, but surely to mark you. You cry out and before he can even apologize for his presumption. You whine out “AAH…do that again…” you’re his dream come true.

As the chemical receptors of pain in your brain are washed out by the pleasure of his mouth. You scratch your nails deeper enough to mark. Might as well make it even “Gah, naughty girl…” your noses touch your eyes study each other. He doesn’t stop thrusting yet makes the activity all the more intimate.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You tease him, he cackles as he wraps his fingers around your throat. Letting go of your hand, while placing his second one as a harness onto the headboard “Keep talking like that to me and find out bebita…”

#Miguel O’Hara x reader #Miguel x reader #18+#spiderverse #spiderverse Drabble #requested writings #requested writings from a cutie 💜#miguel ohara x reader

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afro-hispwriter · 2 days

Text

The Last Door(Comic!Wanda)

Comic!Wanda Maximoff x f!mutant!reader

Summary- You come through "The Last Door" in search of help but find the one woman you wouldn’t think you would see

Warnings- Mentions of m day, mentions of imprisonment and harassment, bi!reader, you slept with Magneto 🤷🏾‍♀️, lesbian!wanda, slightly jealous wanda

*Reader is a powerful telepath and telekinetic* I'm a slut for those powers

It had been a slow day in the Emporium. A customer here and there came in, but nobody has come through the door in the past week since Viv(Vision's daughter). It made Wanda nervous. Did something happen with the door and she hadn't been alerted? Is something stopping people from coming in? Too deep in her thoughts, the curly brown-headed woman didn't hear said door burst open.

"Uh, Wanda." Darcy tapped the witch's shoulder and pointed towards the door. Wanda spun around and trained her green eyes on the open door.

"Is someone there?" She asked but received no response. "We're not going to hurt you, you come for help. You will receive it." Still nothing. Now nobody who was a threat has come through. Yet. But that can change. Wanda swirled her hand and she was changed into the Scarlet Witch. "Darcy, stay back." She looked back at her friend and the girl could only nod.

Wanda took a few steps towards the door and that's when she heard staggered breathing.

"Hello-." She was cut off by a woman falling face-first into the ground in front of her feet. "Oh dear." Wanda crouched down and pushed the hair out of the girl's face. And just by a little glimpse, Wanda gasped. "Y/n!?"

Wanda sat by her former friend's bedside. Her body was beaten up after most likely being in a fight.

But her mind was another issue. It was as if it had been fried and now it's working overtime to heal.

"You find out what happened yet?" Darcy peeked around the corner. Wanda sighed and shook her head.

"No, but Y/n has always had one of the best telepathic blockers I've encountered, even in her weakened state." Wanda squeezes the towel of water and wipes away the dirt and blood.

"How do you guys know each other?"

"She was in the Brotherhood briefly, more a plaything for my father."

"Your friend slept with your dad? What a bitch." Wanda's face twisted and her fans clenched the rag.

"It was my fault. She confessed her feelings for me but I was falling for Vision." She dumbed the rag into the bowl and set it to the side.

"Well, now you're a super cool lesbian because men suck, even the robots." Darcy giggled at her own words and Wanda just shook her head. "What do you think happened to her?"

"I'm not sure, I just hope she wakes up soon."

She didn't wake up for 3 days straight. During that time Pietro was informed his friend was with his sister.

"How long has it been since you spoke to her Pietro," Wanda asks her brother as they share a tea.

"Not for a while. You?” Pietro asks.

"My death." Pietro hummed in acknowledgment.

"What did you think happened to her?"

"I think she got into a fight with Orchis, it seems like they almost succeeded in killing her." Pietro shook his head and stood up.

“I'm going after them.”

"No, we may not be mutants but that doesn’t mean it's safe ." Wanna tried to reason with her brother but he wouldn't listen.

"Pietro?” A tired soft voice alerted both twins. Their green eyes searched for the source just to see their friend leaning against the stair railing, eyes shut and face twisted.

"Y/n!" Pietro zoomed towards you and had you in his arms immediately, he brought you to the couch and laid you down.

"You shouldn't be up my friend.” Pietro gets down on one knee.

"My favorite speedster, my hero." You smiled tiredly.

“What happened?”

“Orchis, they are becoming stronger. They know our weaknesses.” A blaring headache made you press your fingers into your temple. “This device, t-they managed to put it on my forehead and it's like nothing worked. They fried me, I ran away and then I was here.” You opened your eyes and looked around.

“Where am I?”

“My shop.”

You had forgotten how delicate her voice was. You looked over to the woman in her purple dress. It brought out her and her honey skin was shining and the curls in her brown were more defined than the last time you saw her.

“Wanda. Hello darling.” She simply waved. “It's great to see you.” You winced and started to sit up.

“You as well.” Pietro looked between the two women and stood up.

“I'm going to get you some water and good Y/n.” You nodded and he sped off leaving you and Wanda alone.

“So this is what you’ve been doing?”

“I'm sorry.” She says and looks down at her feet.

“Why?”

“I wasn’t there to help everyone during the fall.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be silly Wanda, that was not your responsibility. You have done enough for us.”

“But I could have done more, now so many mutants are dead.” You shakily put your hand out for her to grab. Wanda took it and allowed you to pull her to sit next to you.

“You already have so much blame, don’t let this put you down.” She smiled but her eyes glossed.

“Why are you so nice to me now? Not that I'm complaining.” You sighed and started trying to lean back against the pillows

“I will never forget what you did that day, you ruined me. Ruined almost all the mutants. The things we went through.” Wanda bit her lip and her heart started racing. “But I'm forgiving you.” She let out a small breath of relief. “Your death hit me hard, even after you explained why. It hurt that thought I wouldn’t be able to mend things with you. After you were back, I just left it be.”

“Why?” She grabbed your hands.

“It’s selfish really.”

“Don’t make me get in your head.” She giggled.

“As if you could.” You smirked but it dropped. “Well since you and Vison were having issues, I just thought that it was finally my chance.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Wanda's stomach fluttered suddenly and she squeezed your hands.

“Well, we divorced you know.”

“Yes?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I even realized some things about myself. And maybe if I had realized it sooner, me and you could’ve been together when you confessed.” You seemed to have caught on to what she meant.

“I'm glad you found yourself, Wanda.”

“I appreciate that.” You nodded, and then another swoosh came and Pietro stood there with food and a drink carrier.

“I got the good stuff.”

“Thank you, Pietro, you are too kind.” You say.

“I'm the best.” He winked and you giggled. Wanda rolled her eyes and frowned.

“Thank you, brother, can you please leave it there? Me and Y/n are still talking.” Pietro frowned but shrugged took his drink and plate and dashed away.

“Hmm was there something else you wanted to say?” Your drink was floating in front of you and you grabbed a straw and took it out of the paper. Already indicting your strength returning.

“Oh yes. I-I just.” She started and watched you take a sip. “After you are healed, would you like to go for a tea or coffee?” She was nervous, her eyes darted around and she tapped her fingers against her thighs.

“Of course.”

A/n- I honestly want to keep writing for Comic Wanda 🙂lmk what you think

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #comic wanda maximoff #marvel comics #pietro maximoff #darcy lewis #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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phoebe-delia · 2 days

Note

Friend!! For the writing prompts… let’s see. How about……. good luck babe by chappell roan. Or if you don’t want a song prompt, how about: pool day / cookout / bank holiday weekend etc

✨💛✨💛✨💛✨💛✨ to you dear friend!

Oh, oh Elaine, @oknowkiss you know the way to my little writer's heart!! Thank you for the prompt options, my lovely friend. What a great selection! I do love a good angsty song prompt, especially one with these themes. This is Drarry gold; I'm not sure why I didn't think of it sooner, to be honest.

Based on "Good Luck Babe" by Chappell Roan. Big big thank you to my darling @basicallyahedgehog for looking this over. cw: angst, unhappy ending, implied infidelity (not really between Harry and Draco)

"I don't think this is working."

Draco's fingers freeze in their task of buttoning up his shirt. He blinks at himself in the mirror once. Twice. "I'm sorry?"

His eyes shift to Harry in the reflection. Draco feels a bit disgusted with himself at the immediate rush of affection for him; for this man with his cotton shirt and boxers, now nervously running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

"I've had a great time with you these past few months," Harry says. "But I don't think this will work out. I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but you deserve the truth."

Draco’s speechless for a long moment before he asks, “And what is the truth, Harry?”

Harry looks away, and Draco nearly snaps at him to at least have the decency to make eye contact while breaking his heart—but he doesn’t.

“The truth is that I don’t think this will work out,” Harry says carefully. “There are certain…responsibilities and considerations I have to make—”

Draco scoffs. “Bullshit. It’s because of her, isn’t it? You’re leaving for her.”

Harry flinches. “N-no. I just…”

“You’re a lot of things, Potter,” Draco says coldly, fingers moving quickly to finish buttoning his shirt, “but a coward hasn’t been one of them. Until now.”

“Draco, please—”

"Fuck off." Draco grabs his wand and strides out of the bedroom.

He heads for the door, but Harry beats him to it, blocking his exit. “Just wait—”

“Get out of my way.”

“No, Draco, not until we talk about this.”

“What's there to talk about? You already said this isn't working. Why try to fix what you purposefully broke?” Draco spits the last word like poison, relishing the way Potter winces.

"I just want to explain."

“No! You said I deserve the truth, but the truth is, I pity Ginevra," Draco sneers. "She’ll get your name and your ring. But she’s got no idea she’ll be marrying a man who closes his eyes and fucks her while thinking of men,” Draco's sneer twists into a cruel smirk. “Of me.”

“But....I love her,” Harry whispers.

“You love her like a sister, Potter.” Draco reaches forward, using a finger to lift Harry’s chin until their eyes meet. “But she could never make you feel the way I do. No one can.”

Draco surges forward, capturing Harry’s lips in a heated kiss. Harry gives in immediately, and he barely seems to notice when Draco flips them around and presses himself against the door.

He pulls away, panting against Harry’s lips, and reaches one hand behind himself to grasp the door handle. “Have a good life, Potter. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

With that, Draco opens the door behind himself and steps backward. He slams it shut, but the last thing he sees as the door closes is Harry, staying silent, but with one hand outstretched, reaching for him.

Send me a prompt! See the guidelines here.

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umbran-scribe · 6 hours

Note

haha. i’ve got a funny request. how do u feel about dentists and nanami.😕

Overtime Smiles (Nanami Kento x Gn Reader)

Heyy ♡ ︎ It took me a little while to get back to posting again because of life but I should be posting more soon. I know you wanted NSFW girlie so I've tried and this is the best I could do. I hope you enjoy❦︎

Summary: After waking up in Nanami's bed from a night of drinking, you plan on avoiding him until you find out you have an appointment with your dentist.. Who happens to be Nanami.

Tags: Dentist!Nanami Kento x Gn! Reader, Mentions of drinking, One night stand, Smut, PWP, Deepthroating, Cum Swallowing, Not proofread, WC: 4.5k

I’d been studying his sleeping face for about an hour. More and more sunlight was creeping through the window and my opportunity to make a clean escape was getting smaller and smaller. Fuck, why did I drink so much? Clubbing with Gojo never ends well, why did I think this time would be any different? And out of all people to hook up with, it was fucking Nanami Kento. An old highschool acquaintance that in recent years had become a shoulder for me to cry on, someone I hung out with nearly daily.

From the corner of my eye I spot the hoodie I left here a few days ago. Damn, I either take it now, or leave it forever, cus there's no way I'm gonna be able to double back for that. Not when Kento wakes up and finds me gone. Fuck. Would he even remember last night? Again, how the fuck did last night even happen.

...Fuckkkkkk I really liked that hoodie…

He groaned as he adjusted his sleeping position, oblivious to the dilemma I was facing. Son of a bitch, what do you do when the friend you usually call to get you out of shit is the reason you're in deep shit to begin with?

I’d been in his room so many times before, I've been in this bed countless times, I knew what made the bed springs squeal and what kept them quiet.

I slowly remove the blanket and awkwardly shuffle to the edge of the bed, which still creaked despite my most careful efforts. No sound from the slumbering hunk 3 feet away, so I figured I was probably safe.

I spotted my clothes thrown about near the door of the room, escaping so tantalisingly away, but I had to overcome the hardest part of this whole situation. Getting off the actual bed without the goddamn mattress announcing it to the whole apartment.

I grip the edges of the mattress.

I breathe in..

I tense my body as I press my feet to the floor.

And breathe out..

Despite my best efforts, I only managed to avoid the worst of it, the springs still wailed as I stood and I cursed Kento’s sleeping face for not getting memory foam like I suggested months ago.

But his expression didn’t change. He laid there asleep and without any concern. What day was it, again? Did he have work or something? Maybe I should wake him up.

No, focus, if luck is on my side he won't remember anything and I can worry myself with all that as soon as I get the hell out of here.

I tiptoed around his room, scooping what I could of last night’s outfit off the cold floor. I also find my phone with a now cracked screen, fortunately still charged and notifications cluttering the display. Worried texts and clustered missed calls from Gojo, while Shoko had only sent a few messages and called once. I’ll take care of that when I get at least halfway decent.

Shimmying out of the bedroom is an exercise in patience and caution, after which I nearly close the door behind me, leaving a small crack to stop the door from totally closing shut and making any more noise.

I made a mental note to Shoko for suggesting I wear flats instead of heels yesterday. Who knows what I’d do with myself if I had to walk with heels on Kento’s hard tile floor.

I got dressed and felt my heart jump into my throat when I closed the main door of the house too roughly behind me. Fuck it It’s far enough away from his room, I doubt he’d hear it.

Was this elevator always so cold? Ugh.

Ring ring…

Ring ring… You snow dusted ass, pick up I know you've got nothing else going on

Ring ri- “Hellooo~?” “How does it feel letting the phone ring so you feel a little less sad?”

I hear the choked chortle before he can mute himself, “You whore, you can’t talk to me like that! I’m not the one that disappeared from the club last night.”

I scoff and laugh a little before letting out a huge sigh, “Asshole, I’m not surprised you lost track of me, but where was Shokooo.. She usually gives me a talking to before I do something I regret.”

Gojo makes a low whistle, clearly enjoying himself, “Got yourself some fun huh? And you can’t just ask Shoko to keep you on a leash, last night was for her anyway.”

“She doesn't keep me on a leash- ugh you know what it’s fine, do you know if she’s free? I need you guys' help.” I run my hand through my messy hair.

“Mm, I’ll have to check my schedule..”

“Don’t lie to me, you've got nothing going on. Can you guys pick me up?”

He laughs aloud, and I can hear him kicking his feet over the phone, “Ohh a one night stand gone wrong?”

I huff and can't stop the weak smile that comes to the surface. “Pick me up and you’ll get all the details~"

“I’ll be there in 15, send your location. Want me to stay on the phone?”

I send the location and wait for the fallout.

“I'm walking to my car now, and- oh, okay, just got the notification..”

“How are you already on your way? It’s practically the ass crack of dawn, are you even dres-”

“IS THAT NANAMI’S BUILDING?” He was so loud the mic peaked, I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

“I’m waiting!” And abruptly cut the line.

True to his word, a quarter hour passed and his familiar black car pulled up in front of the building, Gojo’s window already rolled down and he yelled out the window, “HOP IN! Now!”

I didn’t keep him waiting.

I hopped into the passenger seat and kept my eyes on the road ahead, not giving Gojo the satisfaction of acknowledging his grin, “Just drive, I don't care where, just anywhere other than here.”

“You're not even gonna tell us why you're in such a rush?”

I slump in my seat, leaning my head on the window and whine a little before answering Shoko, “Please, at least get me breakfast before you make me talk.”

Gojo whined and complained the entire way, but I wouldn’t let up, and Shoko got tired before long and managed to shut him up.

It hadn’t even been a minute after ordering a coffee to go that the pestering started up again.

“You disappear halfway through the night, we don’t hear from you for over twelve hours, and when you do call you're asking to be picked up from one Nanami Kento’s apartment building..”

“Just because I was at Kento’s building doesn't mean that I was with him.. It could've been anyone from any of those apartments.”

Sitting beside Gojo directly opposite to me, Shoko looks me in the eye and I turn away before she grabs my chin and forces me to meet her gaze. The way she saw straight through me.. I deflate with a sigh and bury my head in my hands as Gojo hollers.

“I don’t know how it happened.. I don’t remember anything that happened after Gojo started crying.”

That cut him off real quick as he scrambled to defend himself, “That was only for, like, five minutes! At least I didn’t end up in my best friend’s bed.”

“You're a bit too loud for someone that wants exactly that to happen to him.. Are you sure you aren’t just jealous?”

“I don’t know what youre talking about.”

“Hey Shoko, mind taking a peep at his call log for me?”

She didn’t even get the chance to raise her hand before his phone was off the table, powered off and slipped into his pocket, all with a straight and stony face.

Now it was my turn to snicker at him, at least that was before my phone started to ring. An unknown number?

“Hello..?”

“Hi, I’m calling to confirm your appointment with us at 4 pm?” Excuse me.

“I’m sorry, appointment? Who is this?” I don’t remember having anything planned today.. I put the call on speaker and opened the calendar on my phone. Nothing. Gojo and even Shoko were now listening in.

“Oh, it seems like there's a note here.. Seems like this appointment is complimentary, arranged by one of our dentists.” Gojo’s eyes light up with pure mischievous joy. Who the fuck do I know thats a denti-

Nanami.

Fucking.

Kento.

The realisation hit me later than it did Gojo, who had his chin set on his intertwined hands as he quietly smiled at me.

“Ah.. okay, um- yeah I’ll be there. Is there any possibility I can change dentists..?”

“I apologise, but this was a free of charge appointment offered by one of our dentists of their own choice, no other dentists would be willing to do something like this.”

How thoughtfully inconvenient..

“Alright, I’ll be there at 4 then.”

The call ends shortly after that.

That blue eyed grinch was nearly giggling at this point, the shit eating jackass.

“Shut up.”

“I-”

“No, no, shut up, now please, no.”

“I’m just-”

“Shoko, please..”

She sighed and put out her cigarette before lightly knocking Gojo on the back of the head, and that seemed to get him to knock it off. “What're you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know.. How do I even face him? After last night? What do you guys think?”

Shoko only shrugged, a clear ‘it’s up to you’. Gojo didn’t hesitate to voice his opinion though.

“I mean, you've already said yes to the appointment, so youre gonna have to figure it out.”

“Wow, thanks. Helpful.”

He only half heartedly shrugged, “Nanami’s a good guy. And whatever happens you can give us a call, anyways.”

A nonchalant way of showing support, because he can’t seem too soft. I can't help laughing a little before getting up and paying for my drink. “Thanks, man. I’ll see you guys later today, probably.”

Shoko tapped her second cigarette against an ashtray before looking up at me, “Going already? You don’t have to be there until 4.”

“Yeah, but I seriously need a shower. Sorry for troubling you guys so much.”

“Hey, no worries! You gave me a fun start to the day. Keep us updated, okay?”

I waved back at him as I walked away to find a cab back home.

A shower, a nap and a few hours later, I was sitting in the waiting room, the pit in my stomach growing with every minute that passes, along with the temptation to get up and make a run for it while I still could.

“You can head in now, second door on the right.”

I flash her a nervous, albeit thankful smile and get on with it, hesitating at the door, hand unsteady on the handle.

The choice is taken out of my hands when the kind man himself, Nanami Kento, opens the door from the other side.

It’s not an unfamiliar face, I know him well, but the recent context made the image of him in my mind slightly blurred, undefined and unclear. But still, I knew that smile, and that was reassuring enough to get me into the patient chair.

He was acting completely normally. He stood the same, walked the same, sat in silence with me just like he did before.

“So, I know I mentioned this to you before, but this’ll be a perfectly normal check up. You said you had a bit of tenderness on the bottom right?”

“Oh, yeah. Uh, thanks for this, I could have just paid you know.”

He looked away from whatever was on his computer’s screen and to me with furrowed brows, “Is something wrong?”

It's a little embarrassing how that put me on edge. Was that weird to say? People pay their dentists, but that isn’t all he is. “Mm? Nothings wrong. What makes you ask?”

He swivels on his chair to face me completely and gets closer, eyes boring into me, “We've been friends for years, this isn't the first time I've offered to check a random tooth ache of yours and suddenly you're trying to pay?”

“I mean, that’s different, this is in the actual chair this time, I don't know. It just felt like maybe I should pay for your time.”

“Just last week you called me three separate times in the early hours of the morning just to talk. We're way past conventional boundaries at this point. What aren’t you telling me?”

I picked at the skin on my thumbs as he kept on talking, because what do I say? He clearly doesn't remember what happened, so do I ignore it? Is it worth mentioning at that point?

“Are you acting like this because of what happened yesterday?”

“Huh? Yesterday?”

“When I ran into you at the nightclub last night.”

Son of a bitch, that rings a bell. “When do you even go to clubs?”

“Ino suggested I try something out of my comfort zone.”

“Oh. And that's when we..?”

“Do you not remember?”

“I mean.. Do you?”

“Admittedly, not much, but bits and pieces.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

The air was tense, and eye contact was nonexistent, on his part at least. It was equal parts funny and endearing, watching him be so uncharacteristically nervous.

“Hey, listen about last night, just forget about it.”

His head snapped to me, his gaze finally meeting mine after such an intense exercise in avoiding it.

“Forget about it?”

I wave him off, “Yeah, no worries, we’ll just forget it ever happened, y’know? Don’t stress about it. It’s just whatever.”

Not a word came from him for a long while as he studied my expression, though what he was looking for was a mystery to me. Did he think I was kidding..?

“What if I said I don’t want to forget last night?”

Heat rushed to my face as I struggled to find something to say, the words on my tongue hiding from my grasp. “I’m- um. Huh?”

He takes a deep breath and sighs lightly before he reaches forward and brings his hand closer to my own, fingers nearly making contact before shying away at the last possible centimeter.

“I speak for myself, but I do not regret it. Even though I do wish that it was in a more- uh, ideal circumstance.”

The rush of emotions choke me, my words barely making it out of my throat.

“Sounds like you put some thought into it.”

He averts his gaze to the floor, a mild flush gracing his complexion. Kento’s never been one to shy away from anything, and I couldn’t help but smile a little. He was being too adorable, and I was feeling a little emboldened.

“How would you have wanted it to happen then?”

His gaze flits back to me and I get to see his usual little non-frown, the expression between a glare and annoyed grimace. “You're being cruel.”

“No! No, no Kento, really. Come on man, talk to me.” I try not to laugh as I sit up to face him properly.

He huffs and his expression shifts into something more alive. “I don’t know how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought of possibly taking you for a nice dinner, but that seemed too formal, but you deserve more than just lounging about and watching shows together.” His eyes are alright, and I don’t remember when it was that our hands intertwined, but I don’t think I mind at all. “...But I do know that I would have wanted to be able to at least remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Our, ah… first time. Us. You.”

“You make it sound like you're some kind of virgin. Ha, you haven’t been saving yourself for me, have you Kento?” I can’t suppress the small grin or the faint tingle I felt in my gut with every exchanged word, with every letter that makes it to the open air.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He huffs before showing me his own little smile, bringing our intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand and sending cascading fire down every nerve from my hand to every part of me. “But everything is different with you. Everything has meaning with you.”

I feel clouds form in my lungs and rising to my eyes, a raindrop of a tear or two slipping past before I attempt and fail to discreetly wipe them away with my free hand. Kento freezes, his hand stiffening around my own.

His grip loosens slightly, my own grip strengthening in turn.

“I’m sorry, I overdid it. I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s not that, fuck, Kento that might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told me.”

His frown eases and he pressed more kisses to the back of my hand, his smile felt even when I can’t see it clearly.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t come on too strongly, then.”

I sigh and he looks up at me, our gazes locked for seconds that felt like they dragged on for infinitely longer.

“How come you never mentioned any of that?”

He closes his eyes and ponders for an answer that did not need any thinking on his part.

“It never felt like the right time.”

“Really? Come on, I haven’t had a serious relationship in ages. Sounds like you've gotten in the habit of making excuses for yourself.” I playfully scoff.

“You know me better than that.”

I do, don’t I?

I take both his hands into my own and bring them to my waist. He gives me a look I can’t read, so many different feelings in his eyes, a maelstrom of emotion.

“Nothing’s stopping us from having another first time. One that we can actually remember this time.”

His face remained unreadable, but his hands were now shaking under my own.

“But- last night..?”

“I won’t count it if you don’t?”

His expression breaks as he laughs, laughter and noises of joy spilling from him even as he kisses me again, for the first time.

I wrap my arms around his neck, relishing in the sensation of his lips on my own.

His arms hold me close to him, our bodies pressed together, a level of closeness in regards to one another that had never before experienced by our sober minds.

He pulled away from me, my lips following him in a daze before he brought a hand to my face, caressing with his thumb.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” The words tumble out of me in a near-incoherent mess.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. Absolutely nothing.” He whispers before coming back to me, lips to lips, in each other's arms.

The feeling of his tongue sliding against mine, of his hands on my hips and bringing me closer to him, our bodies nearly flush together. All the sensations had me flushed and in a daze, heat in the bottom of my stomach, every inch of contact sending waves upon waves of jolts that traveled up my spine.

A hand comes from behind and pulls my head back by the hair, the surprise and pain mellow into sweet sensitivity as he kisses and nips against my neck, taking his time to make sure there wasn't a single spot of skin he hadn’t left untainted.

“You know that’s gonna leave more than a few marks, right?”

His response is muffled, what with his continuing abuse of my neck, but the sentiment is clear when I suck in a sharp gasp, weakly restraining myself from making any noise as his sneaky fingers continue pinching at my chest.

After too long spent grinding against the other, I pulled away from him, a hand on his chest as my mind came down from the heights of euphoria.

After a moment, I came to enough sense to form words again.

“Hey, hey maybe we should go a bit slower. This is still your workplace, you know.”

Kento looked at me like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying before he completely pulled away.

“Right. Yes, you're right.” He went to stand and walk away before I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, his look of mild bewilderment entertaining enough to make the time without him on me or vice versa almost worth it.

“I said slower, not slow. I can't let you go through the rest of the business day after putting you through that.” I smile up at him as my hand trails down to his belt.

His hands stop my own, a weak grip keeping them in place. “As much as I appreciate that, you don’t have to feel obligated to do that for me. It’s near the end of the work day anyways-” His concern was clear and it was so incredibly sweet, but I needed him so bad right now I was getting dizzy.

“Kento, I appreciate that, and you're such a sweetheart but if I don’t have you in my mouth in the next minute I might lose my mind.” The bluntness of my words struck true, the concern exchanged for a wild blush as his hands let go of mine and instead found a place at his side, hanging lazily.

The belt was easy to get out of the way, and the pants zipper and button were even easier, the air seemed to get heavier with every breath as everything seemed so surreal, a little smidge of lightheadedness painting the world away as my eyes tunnel visioned on Kento Nanami and absolutely nothing else.

With a breath to steady myself, I pull down his pants, the grey boxers now in view. The impressive tent was breathtaking, a slight dampness at the tip from the leaking pre.

I ran a hand over his clothed cock, peppering it in little kisses and enjoying the little groans that came from Kento, a hand in my hair but went out of his way to be more gentle, only tugging slightly when I lingered for too long on one spot.

My hands brought down the boxers slowly, enjoying the gradual reveal of his cock before it sprung out.

I wrap my hand around his warm cock, taking a moment to caress the tip with my thumb, pre-cum gradually lubing up my hand as I stroked from tip to base, taking my time and going at what must have been to him a grueling pace, considering the way he groaned almost in pain, impatience clear in his voice, but he was polite, and he never sounded a single complaint.

I planted a kiss on the tip, at which Kento grabbed a fistful of my hair, but still refrained from tugging, like the gentleman he is.

I ran my tongue across the length, from the base along the shaft and right to the tip before taking it whole in my mouth, nearly startled at the overly loud and sudden moan from Kento that he quickly muffled, hopefully fast enough for no one to step in.

I swirl my tongue around the tip, the salty taste of the pre cum filling my mouth as I took more and more of his cock into my mouth, making sure to breathe and not suffocate on the utter mouthful that was Kento, working my tongue as I went while my hands wander along Kento’s body, with one hand caressing his thighs as the other goes under his scrubs and feeling along his chest, pinching his nipple to hear a strangled noise from him.

I bobbed my head up and down, taking my time with the pace, spit running down his cock as I went, lubricating it thoroughly. The feeling of him in my mouth, the way his breath shuddered under my touch, it was almost euphoric.

He abruptly pulls me off of his cock roughly by my hair, throwing me into a spinning state of confusion at the sudden change, my mind grappling at the surroundings.

Leaning down, he gave me a kiss before grabbing me by the arms and laying me on the patient chair, reclining it completely to be flat and standing behind me, his cock right above my face.

“I hope you don’t mind me changing plans?”

“Straying from vanilla so soon, Kento? I’m not boring you am I?”

“You could never. Hit my leg twice if you need me to stop.”

It gave me whiplash, how we would go from being sickeningly sweet to instructing me on how to not get myself killed by his cock.

He took a step, his cock getting closer and my mouth opening in eager reception. That did not save me from the shock of having it slammed down my throat with the force of Kento’s own body weight before staying still.

In my attempt to breathe, I noticed his muskiness, almost unable to pinpoint what it was with the constant airway blocker.

He seemed to have had enough of torturing me, instead alternating between withdrawing his cock and choking me with it rapidly, the assault a constant over stimulating rush of white and force, of taste and smell and warmth.

His hands wrap around my throat to steady me, his pace constant as he fucks my throat raw, and I don’t even have the awareness necessary t pray that noone walked in on us, especially in such a compromising situation.

Groans grew louder and more frequent, the grip on my throat was getting stronger, and by now i was starting to lose consciousness, the lack of airflow making it difficult to even stay aware for long before I felt the stutter in his thrusts growing more and more frequent until he rammed as much as he could of his cock into my throat, and I could faintly register the pulsing of his cock or the warmth of his cum before he pulls out and I can catch a genuine breath.

I sat up, supported by Kento, who had already tucked himself away back into the boxers and managed to make himself look presentable as ever, once again, while I looked like an absolute mess.

I hear him clear his throat before looking at me sheepishly.

“Thank you. That was definitely more memorable than I could have imagined.”

I smile at him as I try to manage my messy hair, “Positively, I hope.”

“Of course.” He looked serious, as though any other possibility did not even register to him. “Now, about dinner tonight…”

I was already on my feet, giving him a kiss and on my way out the door before he even finished the sentence, “I’ll leave it up to you, Kento, I have some updates to give. See you at home!”

He calls out my name, but I was already dialing that snow dusted twink’s number.

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wrightingdungeon · 1 day

Text

Dear Diary

Evelyn and George, I love them so much.

ANGST! GET YOUR ANGST HERE!

POV Evelyn’s Diary - shes 19/20 RN - WILL HAVE TIME SKIPS - None of this is cannon beside pop pop blowing up - BTW George still blows himself up oop - Imagine getting snips of her Diary not the whole book - Im not sorry for how I end this - fight me

Today is Spring, 8, 1965.

While working in the clinic today, a miner came in, but he wasn't like the other miners. He almost dropped his cap taking it off while trying to introduce himself. His name is George, and he came in for an injury on his hand. The rope he was holding had slipped from his grip, causing a severe rope burn across his palm.

He apologized for tracking coal dust into the clinic, which no miner has ever apologized for before. I don't think their mothers explained how hard it is to get coal dust out of the bed sheets, but it's my job, so I shouldn't complain much. I just hope George will be okay. I told him he should inform his foreman that it's doctor's orders he not work until his hand heals completely.

Today is Spring, 12, 1965

The doctor was out of town today, having a call outside of town. The clinic ran as usual, although I had to tell some people to return tomorrow to see the doctor. Despite a few cases, today was a good day. Mr. George came back, and his hand has healed phenomenally. It still has a bit more healing to do, but it doesn't look like it will leave a bad scar.

I must admit, when I was holding his hand and inspecting his burn, I couldn't help but feel light-headed. George is not a bad-looking man, and his smile is so kind, His miner's cap always tosses his brown hair, and his eyes always have a twinkle in them. I’m afraid I’m a horrid nurse, feeling these things for someone in my care.

Today is Spring, 20, 1965.

George came by the clinic today. His hand looked better, but that wasn't the reason he came. He brought me a bundle of tulips, thanking me for all the care I had given him. I'm looking at them in my window right now, and I can't help but smile. He is such a kind man. I can't quite figure out how he knew what flowers I fancy, but does that matter? They are so beautiful.

I am sad, though, because George's hand has healed fully, and now he has no reason to come to the clinic. I should be happy—he's healed, and I did my job—but my heart aches knowing I won't see his smile or his twinkling eyes again. Like I said, I must be a horrid nurse.

Today is Summer, 4, 1965

I saw George again today. I was at the market shopping for dinner when I reached for a leek, and my hand touched his. His laughter is much more boisterous than his voice, which was a pleasant surprise. It's nice discovering things about him—he is like a book I don't want to put down.

He offered to cook me dinner as a proper thank you for helping him. I should have said no, but I said yes. Now, I'm sitting here, terrified to go to his home. I've never had anyone other than my mother cook for me. My heart is fluttering.

Today is Summer, 13, 1965

I have heard the number thirteen is unlucky, but I believe it to be lucky. This evening, I heard a knock at my door. It was George, dressed nicely with his hair neatly fixed. He handed me flowers and asked me out to a gridball game.

What do I wear? I want to impress George. I haven't been on a date before.

The date went so well! George's team won, and he was so happy. We got sorbet afterward to celebrate, and George took my hand in his as we walked. I really do believe the number thirteen is lucky.

Today is Summer, 28, 1965

It has been two weeks of me and George going steady, and it feels like a dream. When George finishes his shift in the mines, he comes to the clinic and walks me home. He is such a gentleman, nothing like the other miners I have met. Tonight was just magical. As George walked me to the door, I could tell something was off. His hands sweat when he is nervous, and I swear they were dripping.

He looked at me, his face as red as a beet, and asked if he could kiss me. His lips are soft and warm. It's embarrassing to admit, but his mouth does taste like cigarettes. Oh, I think I am in love, and I don't know what to do.

Today is Winter, 20, 1965

I can't believe it… George asked me out again today. He took me to the cliff to watch the sunset. He was sweating again and refused to look at me. When I asked him what was wrong, he just caged up further. I thought he was breaking up with me, but then he grabbed me as I got up to leave. His words fumbled over each other, and he almost fell over as he rushed to his knee.

George proposed to me. He told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and that he couldn't stop thinking about me since he burned his hand with that rope. I'm so excited—I'm going to be George's wife soon. I just wish Mother was still with me so she could see this.

Today is Fall, 14, 1970

I can't sleep. George had an accident today at the mines. It was terrible; they had to rush him to the city. The doctor sent me home, saying I was a wreck. I can't stop crying, picturing him covered in blood and bruises on the operating table. Someone said he dropped dynamite. Please, Yoba, don't take my George. After losing my parents, he's all I have. I can't bear to be alone again. He's my everything—the love of my life. The house feels empty without him. Every corner holds memories of him, and I can't imagine life without him. Yoba, you've always answered my prayers. Please, I was so alone after Mother and Father passed, please don't take him from me as well.

Today is Spring, 2, 1971

They finally allowed George to come home from the hospital, albeit in a wheelchair. But that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that he's home and on the mend. It's a new chapter for both of us, one filled with challenges and uncertainties. Sometimes, George can be a bit rude, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

I made a promise to stand by him no matter what: for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. And I intend to keep that promise. I'll be there for George, caring for him and cherishing our time together, no matter what lies ahead.

Today is Winter, 2, 1976

This is a happy day! Me and George weren't sure I could become pregnant, but I am! We are so excited to see our child. George has been working in the nursery non-stop, making sure he can care for our baby, not allowing that wheelchair to stop him. I have decided on two names: Clara for a daughter and Coy for a son. I don't care what we have; I know they will be perfect.

Today is Summer, 10, 1977

Clara is perfect. With George's rich brown hair and my green eyes, she's a sight to behold. Despite her small stature, her eyes hold the same glimmer of curiosity as her father's. I know she will cause all kinds of trouble as she grows up just like her father.

As I watch George cradle her with such gentleness, his protective gaze never leaving her, and the tears of love that well up in his eyes as he whispers soothing words to her, I'm reminded once again of how blessed I am to have him by my side. In moments like these, it's crystal clear that I've married the most wonderful man.

Today is Summer, 13, 2000

I knew the number thirteen was lucky. Today, our grandson Alex was born. As I held him in my arms, I couldn't help but notice how much he resembled his mother, right down to the tiny button nose that mirrored hers when she was born. George was worried about Clara, complaining that everyone was here to see just Alex and not his baby girl. He has always been such a good father; he will be the best grandfather as well.

Looking at my family as it has grown, I’ve gone from an empty home after my parents passed, to a husband, a daughter, and now a son-in-law and a beautiful grandson. I love my family dearly and can't wait for the years ahead of us.

Fall, 16, 2004 This page is heavily tear stained

We took Alex for the day taking him to the fair as Clara wanted him to experience it. I can't believe we got lucky enough to have Alex… George's scream echoes in my mind… Did he scream with that pain when he was blown up?

We thought the phone call was Clara telling us that they would be late picking up Alex. The phone call shattered our hopes—it was the Zuzu Highway Patrol delivering the tragic news. Clara and her husband are gone… Victims of a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road. They didn't survive.

But we have Alex…. We have to tell our four-year-old grandson he can't go home anymore… He can't see his Mother or Father ever again

Yoba, why didn't you shield them?

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