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tllgrrl · 3 months

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7th Inning Stretch by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Sarah Wilson/James “Bucky” Barnes | 5K Words | Ch 1: SFW Fade to Black. Ch 2: NSFW Spicy.

Summary: Sarah and Bucky enjoy their day off, beating the heat at home on the sofa, watching the ballgame.

Summer + Baseball + Waltzing + Ice(?) = Shenanigans!

* * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1 - Take Me Out

Where: Southern Louisiana.

When: Summertime. Baseball Season.

Late afternoon at the Wilson-Barnes home. It’s not just hot and humid. It’s steamy, and rain is in the forecast. It hasn’t started yet, but it’s on its way.

Sam’s visiting for a few days, and to keep two bored tween boys from going stir crazy he offered to take his nephews to the movies, pizza, and then for a mini-shopping spree at Crescent City Comics in NOLA, so Sarah and Bucky, both in lightweight cotton shorts and tank tops, are lazing on the sofa, enjoying a quiet day off…and air conditioning.

Like in many older buildings and houses in Southern Louisiana, opening windows and/or doors and letting the air flow through was “air conditioning” in the generations-old Wilson house.

To make it more effective, some window units were installed in the living room and the bedrooms, including Bucky’s bedroom/office in the attic.

Having Stark Industries and WakandaTech available did have its perks. Low profile, high-efficiency and environmentally friendly A/C was one of them.

But sometimes, open windows and good screens were fine. Especially after sundown.

Bucky got the small ice chest out of the garage, filled it with ice, a couple of bottles of beer and 2 bottles of water. Sarah laid out some snacks, including a few of Bucky’s favorite granola bars, on the coffee table.

He’s watching the L.A. Dodgers (the “Brooklyn” Dodgers, as he sometimes calls them) play the New York Mets while he rubs her feet with his warm right hand.

She’s enjoying the hell out of the pampering, while reading the novelization of the Bridgerton spinoff, Queen Charlotte.

He knows about the popular TV series and enjoys the way she tries to keep a cool demeanor at what she and her friends call “the juicy parts” of the book.

He can hear her when she says under her breath, “Well, alright now…” or “Mmm-hmm…”

And he took particular note when she covered her mouth, whispered “Giiiiirl?! Yesss…” and her toes curled in his hand.

He planned to try and get her to read whatever that part was aloud to him later.

“It’s almost time,” he informs her, releasing her foot and rubbing his left hand, still cool from holding a cold beer, on her legs.

“Mmmm…that’s nice.” she sighs as she lightly kneads his thigh with her heels. “Time for what?”

“7th Inning Stretch…”

“…You know the song, right? Take me me out—“

“To the ball game? Everybody knows that song.”

“Yeah, the chorus part of it. Did you know there are verses?”

She laid the book down on the coffee table next to the bowl of roasted peanuts, snagged a little cube of ice and rubbed it on her wrists, her neck and her collarbone.

His eyes caught a drop of water from the ice making its way from the hollow at the base of her throat, down her chest, rolling into her cleavage.

For a second he considered going in after it. With his mouth and tongue. Instead, he gave her another piece of ice and popped one into his own mouth, crunched it, then taking her hand slowly kissed up her arm, from the pulse point of her wrist, watching her eyes slightly widen as she grins.

"Is that right..." she murmured, getting a little lost because it felt like every time his cold mouth landed on her warm skin, all of her attention, her focus, was drawn to that spot on her body.

And he saw her thighs press together just a little when he reached the inside of her elbow, kissed it and then rubbed his bearded cheek on it, making her hiss and pull away but just a little because the cold followed by the warmth made her want more.

“Verses? That song has verses? Lay it on me, Sinatra.”

“Okay, it goes something like,

Katie Casey was baseball mad,

had the fever and had it bad.

Just to root for the hometown crew,

Every sou—that’s a penny—Katie blew…”

“Really! That’s how it starts?”

“Yeah. Learned it from my Pa. There was another version later about a girl named Nellie Kelly.”

“Anyway," she ruffled his hair, and lightly raking her nails on his scalp, she watched his eyelids start to flutter. "I’ve never heard the intro before. My baseball knowledge isn’t very deep. Daddy’d sometimes watch depending on who was playing, and you know about Sam and his football. I’m into whatever the boys are into, but I don’t know a lot about baseball.”

“My Ma loved baseball. Prob’ly more’n Pa. She’d listen to games on the radio doin' housework, or makin’ dinner, and during the 7th Inning Stretch she’d grab me and Becca, turn the radio up, and we’d all three of us dance around in the living room. God, in the summertime it’d be so hot, but we didn’t care.

Sometimes if I had a little bit o’ money left from a job, when the ice wagon came around I’d run downstairs and get us snow cones.

Man, when that ice hit your mouth…it was like heaven. I’ll never forget…”

Sarah saw that soft smile and look of almost wonderment he sometimes gets when an old formerly-lost memory resurfaces.

‘Well, anyway,” he offered, rising from the couch, taking her hand and leading her to the middle of the room, “I’ll be more than happy to be your private baseball tutor.”

“Private tutor, huh?”

“Mmm-hmmm. May I?”

She nodded, he placed her right hand on his shoulder, took her left hand, and pulled her nearer.

“When you’re watching the boys’ team play, you want to be the parent who knows exactly what they’re yelling at the ump for.”

“Well, I thank you in advance, Professor Barnes.

So when do my lessons start?”

“Now. Do you waltz?”

“Waltz? A little. Not much occasion to, but I can waltz with a good partner.”

“You’re in good hands. Trust me. Okay…”

He raised the volume on the TV, tossed the remote onto the couch, and they began to dance as the announcer sings:

🎶Take me out to the ballgame,

Take me out to the crowd…🎶

“Say! Not bad, young whippersnapper!”

“Thank you!”

🎶Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack…🎶

“Who taught you?”

“Daddy. And mama taught Sam.”

“Sam? Your brother Sam? Sam Wilson can waltz?”

🎶Root, root, root for the home team,

If they don’t win it’s a shame…🎶

“Oh, yeah! Social Dancing was definitely part of our Home Training. But not Soul Train dancing. You learned popular dances from friends, and from the TV.

I mean Fox Trot, Swing, and Waltz. Like your Mama taught you, our Mama and Daddy taught us…just like you’re gonna teach Cass and AJ.”

“You want me to teach them.“

“Mmm-hmm. They're already learning baseball fundamentals from you. You can show them basic partner dancing steps, and they can practice leading with me.”

“I thought you wanted them to like me!”

“It’ll be fun! I promise.”

“Mind if I hold you to that?”

The song continues and the crowd on the TV sang as Sarah and Bucky find themselves slow dancing.

Whenever they dance past the AC unit, they linger, feeling the cool air as it hits the light veil of sweat that has settled on their skin.

It’s Southern Louisiana. In the Summer, it’s always there.

She grew up with it.

He’s gotten used to it and actually loves it because he’d had enough freezing in his life to never want to be cold again unless necessary.

She places her hand on the back of his neck and feels him inhale, rub his cheek on her temple, then he lightly kisses her there.

The back of his left hand slides down her shoulder, then his fingers slowly run from just behind her ear, down the side of her throat.

The sensors in that hand know her skin intimately now.

He remembers the first time she took his hand, the first time he touched her arm, her cheek, her bottom lip. Her...

He lightly kisses the side of her neck, her ear, while softly humming the song, pulling giggles from her.

Her hands roam up and down his back, gently kneading the muscles there, pulling another deep inhale and sigh from him.

🎶Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack…🎶

His mouth travels to her cheek, then to her mouth.

🎶I don’t care if I ever come back.🎶

They get lost in the kiss, and when they finally do come back…

“Well, now. Tell me, Professor Barnes, do they still call a kiss like that getting to First Base?”

“I believe they do, Ms. Wilson.”

“I wonder if you can make it to Home Plate.”

“Not if I can, sweetness, but how many times.”

“Oh, really now,” she huffs, pulling away before he can go in for another scorching kiss, and heading toward the stairs.

He watches her ascend and when she looks back at him over her shoulder, she sees that “got an idea” look he gets when he gets the kind of “ideas” that get her pulled into a hideaway someplace at least semi-private for some good old-fashioned grownup shenanigans.

“The truck windows are still down,” he grins. “I’ll be right up.“

As if on cue, the wind kicks up a bit, and then there’s the sound of rain beginning to fall.

{*ping*}

They both glance over at his phone on the end table, then at each other, and she starts to prepare herself for the words that’ll mean he has to get dressed, grab that ever-ready Backpack and board a QuinJet that’s miraculously showed up in the front yard.

(Dammit. Here it comes: “HQ called—blah blah blah. The boys and I are headed back home. Wheels up in 2 hours—blah blah blah. Sorry Buck.”)

Bucky picks the phone up, reads the message, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s from Sam. He says, raining cats and dogs up here...storm’s headed your way...boys are knocked out and so am I...crashing at safe house...see you guys in the morning. Don’t get distracted and forget to roll up windows on that old truck, White Panther? Distracted?!” Bucky says to his phone. “I don’t get distracted, Samuel!”

For a few seconds, Sarah watches with amusement as he fusses at the phone, then she turns and continues up the stairs.

“Don’t take too long rolling up those windows, Lover,” she teases. “It’s the top of the 7th.

Batter up.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 2: Rounding The Bases on AO3 (Rated E)

Originally published for the 2023 SarahBucky Summer event.

Thanks for reading! (Or re-reading!)

#bucky barnes #sarah wilson #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah/bucky #bucky/sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #fan fiction #fan art #by tllgrrl aka nefertiri jones #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve

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mewintheflesh-2 · 4 months

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I Didn’t Know.

Rating: Mature

Warning: Major Character Death (Suicide)

Fandom: Mandjtv, Pokemon

Relationships: Michael Groth & Grunty Boi

Characters: Michael Groth, Grunty Boi

Tags: Song: I Didn’t Know (Skinshape), Suicide, Suicide Notes, Nooses, Grunty Boi has Abandonment Issues, Separation Anxiety, separation via death, Emetiphobia, Grunty Boi has Separation Anxiety

Word Count: 992

Published Friday, May 17th, 2024

Also posted to AO3

Summary:

Michael had been very busy in the past month, and had been neglecting his best friend

When he finally looks for him, Michael finds something.

Along with his friends dead and hanging body, he finds a note below his feet.

Michael had had a particularly busy time in the past month, always working on editing and filming videos, never really having the time or place to take breaks and spend time with anybody he loved. And it showed. His girlfriend became clingier, and his best friend, Grunty Boi, had begun behaving differently as well.

He was smiling less, looking more bored than anything, all the time. Of course he was clingy as well in the beginning, but over time he just….. stopped. Stopped coming by at all. He’d still message him every once in a while asking and hoping that they could talk together, but again, Michael was always busy, always brushing him off with a “not right now”s, maybe later”s, and “I’m busy”s.

Grunty Boi was giving him the benefit of the doubt for so long, but eventually he just got tired.

Bought some rope.

Tied a noose.

Stood on a chair and kicked it.

Michael almost didn’t even notice he was gone he was so busy. It took him a week to notice he hadn’t talked to him in awhile.

Michael looked for him all over the house, not in his room, not in any of the bathrooms or showers, not in the attic, not in the kitchen, not in the living room. Eventually he checked every place in his house except one.

The basement.

Nobody was home with him, the basement didn’t really bother him usually, but for some reason he had this odd, stomach-sickening feeling as he opened the door to the dark, wooden staircase. The only light being the sun pouring in from the living room. He took one step down the creaky stairs, calling his best friend’s name for what felt like the hundredth time.

”If you’re hiding from me, this isn’t funny anymore!” He called out. He was getting borderline frustrated at this point. Usually the grunt came whenever he called for him…… or when there was a sponsor. Of course neither of those things happened anymore, or would ever again. But Michael didn’t know that yet.

Halfway down the stairs he noticed a shadowy figure. His eyebrows perked up as he rushed down the rest of the stairs.

”There you are! Jesus I thought you’d dissa……..peared……?” Michael’s voice trailed off as he noticed the shadow was….. floating?

Michaels hand reached for the light, missing it a few times before successfully pressing the large switch.

As light poured into the room, it illuminated the shadowed figure.

Michael’s stomach dropped.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

His best friends body

Hung from a noose in his own basement.

Michael felt the sudden urge to vomit as he dropped to his knees. “H-huh….?” He stared in disbelief.

No. He’d never.

He was a giant ray of sunshine and rainbows— he’d never—! He’d never fucking KILL HIMSELF!

Michael planted his palms on the dirty basement floors as he pushed himself to stand up, taking wobbly steps up to the dead and dangling body.

He reached a hand towards his best friends leg. Cold. Hard.

Michael’s head lurched to the side as he felt something build up in his throat. He fell to the floor once again, on his knees and hands. He felt like the world was spinning so hard he’d fall over and die. His whole body jutted forward and closer to the floor. A disgusting sound came from Michael’s mouth before bile began to spew, splattering into the floor.

Michael’s breath was heavy as he stared into his own vomit, then back up to the dead body in his basement. He near,y vomited once more. Tears had begun to spring their way into his eyes, partly from the vomit, but mostly from the situation at hand.

He let out a jittery and miserable sound as he sat up beside the puddle of bile, looking up at the grunts dead body. He planted his hands on the floor, and he felt something.

a paper.

Michael pried his eyes off of his best friend and picked it up curiously with shaky hands.

a note.

Michael began to read, his throat beginning to close up. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to see over his tears. But he read it.

Hey. If you’re reading this. I probably went through with it.

I Get it if you didn’t want to be friends anymore, Michael, but you really could’ve told me.

You didn’t have to keep ignoring me like that, but whatever. It’s too late anyways.

You know how I get with this kind of stuff. But I guess you were too busy to notice.

It’s not like you’re one of my only friends or anything. Or were one of my only friends.

Ive known you longer than anyone. I’ve talked to you more than I’ve probably talked to my girlfriend. That says something doesn’t it.

I want to say I hope you’re happy. But I also don’t. I don’t know what to feel right now.

I can’t feel anything.

— Your friend (?),

Grunty Boi.

Michael’s own tears fell onto the paper, soaking it in its saltiness. How could he have been so foolish? How could he have done this to his own best friend? How could he let it get to the point of him not thinking they were friends anymore? To the point of suicide??

The note was right. Michael knew how he got after long times of separation, he’d never leave him alone for weeks following even a two day break. To let this happen for over a month? Michael felt sick again.

A throbbing headache and bubbling stomach, Michael lurched once more, once again speeding more bile into the floor. He choked out a sob as he wiped his mouth and eyes.

Michael Lied on the cold, uncomfortable, concrete floor. And closed his eyes.

There he slept. For days to come. By his best friend.

They’re still together, aren’t they?

#Tw suicide #suicide #suicide mention #suicide tw #Cw suicide #Suicide cw #Tw sui #sui tw #Cw sui #Sui cw #sewer slide #tw sewerslide #sewerslide tw #Sewerslide cw #Cw sewerslide #Michael Groth #Mandjtv #Grunty Boi

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accesselevatordotnet · 2 years

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5 Reasons to Install Home Elevators in Springfield and Naperville, IL

One automatically thinks of a luxurious mansion or glam setting when contemplating an installation of an elevator. Ordering one of the best home elevators in Springfield and Naperville, IL is more of a necessity than a luxury today. One can use multiple types of such elevators to travel between floors as and when needed. The user may choose according to convenience without exceeding the budget at all. Sure, moving up and unrestricted access to the entire building are perks that have been quite unimaginable for mobility-challenged individuals earlier. A disabled or elderly resident does not have to be anxious about navigating the stairs when the need to ascend to the upper floors becomes imperative.

There are several other benefits of investing in a superior brand of home elevator too. Some of the following gains are well appreciated by the end-user making the expense justified:

1. Living Simplified- There is no challenge to living life as one wants or deserves, thanks to the installation of a home elevator. Accessing rooms located on the upper floors is considerably simplified for all residents, including seniors, disabled, and physically ill individuals. Moving between floors with heavy bags of groceries or other items is also easy, with the act of bringing down the Christmas decorations from the attic without hiring workers becoming possible again.

2. Safety assured- Using an elevator is as simple as entering a room. There is no struggle to climb up or bend involved either. The risks of slipping and falling are minimized to the extent that it is eliminated. Depressing the required switch and starting the elevator is exceedingly simple as the power buttons are marked. Sure, there may be power outages, but an alarm inside the cab helps one to call for emergency measures speedily if needed.

3. Space Saving- Admittedly, most modern apartments today are constructed on very little space. Sadly, the huge traditional elevators of yesteryear cannot be accommodated in such buildings. No worries! Modern home elevators can be installed in extremely small spaces without marring aesthetics. Conversely, homes with little space inside may find it practical to have the home elevator installed on the outside where it remains flush with the wall.

4. Aging in Place- A home that has been in the family for generations has memories associated with it. The elderly are eager to remain in their homes without moving into an assisted living facility. Well, the installation of an elevator allows them to age in place without affecting their mobility and accessibility in the least.

5. Increased property Value - A home with a residential elevator installed is a fully functional property that can be an asset that buyers in the area covet! The homeowner thus gets an opportunity to obtain a better ROI when it is time to move.

People with mobility issues find the mobility scooter in Green Bay and Milwaukee, WI to be effective for moving around the locality as and when required.

#home elevators in Springfield and Naperville IL mobility scooter in Green Bay and Milwaukee WI

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sarkisyanportfolio · 2 years

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Neighbors

Is it harder for women to write about themselves than it is for men? Tennessee Williams had no issue in composing essays about his own reflections on his work and the people that dropped by in his life; and yet I wonder if women write with that same volubility about themselves without focusing on a certain exterior message.

Even now, I write about women’s position to men and not about myself. How can I write about my positionality and exclude that from how that’s influenced by my gender? Even in writing essays, and in writing about yourself, there’s a lot we don’t say. Dostoevsky said, the more a person feels they cannot reveal to themselves, the better a person they are. You will learn more details about a person on their Wikipedia page than you will by reading their personal essays, but more details do not mean more truth. The latter gives you what Wikipedia does not, and that’s a built relationship with someone you’ve never met.

Recently, I stumbled upon some reminiscences from my childhood; something that is typically accepted as calming or comforting. I’m both drawn to that which reminds me of my childhood, albeit music or photos, maybe movies, but a part of me feels a lack that is only acknowledged when in the presence of something nostalgic. Schopenhauer said, the sadness we feel when recollecting is due to the expectations we had of the future when we were younger. We’re dissatisfied with how the future (our present) turned out.

The house I owe much of my development to was a red brick rowhouse stacked next to one another in the matchbox that is Queens with all Armenian-immigrant neighbors. Us included. My bedroom upstairs was the tiniest room in the house, some could call it a converted attic but looking back, the unfortunate sizing was good to humble my already bratty personality which I attribute to my problem with authority, then and now.

It was in this tiny magenta-carpeted room that I would fling my backpack off, and take 45 minutes to several hours at times dancing and singing by myself while changing out of my school uniform. I distinctly remember judging my day as being good or bad based on how much fun I had.

Mrs. Seta and her husband Mr. Hakop were a charming warm elderly couple that lived next door to us. Like all rowhomes in urban cities, our front porches were split by a thin white railing fence with little flowers in the centers. My grandma and Mrs. Seta would have mid-day coffee every day when the weather permitted, leaning their arms on the railing, watching passersby walking their dogs or commuting home from work. When my grandfather would come home from work, my grandma would make him food, and he would retire to the porch and meet with Mr. Hakop for some chitchat.

Both of my grandparents had shakey English, yet it never stopped either of them from socializing with people in the neighborhood no matter where we lived. We moved quite frequently, first from place to place within urban areas in New York, and then to the confines of south Florida--from which I don’t think I ever recovered.

The perks of knowing multiple languages as a result of living in a Soviet Republic, and by having to move around for work in a developing country like Armenia with low employment, gave my grandparents the people-skills I wish I had. I, as a person who was born and raised in this country, would still consider the people in my neighborhood to be strangers and would have no inclination towards sparking a conversation with them, but my grandparents saw no reason to not invite people inside for coffee. Years later, I was at a party at my neighbor’s home in south Florida and my grandma conveyed in her fragmented English that “in my country, neighbor is family.”

The loss of my neighbors was as hollowing as the loss of my childhood with my parents’ decision to move away from New York. Is it painful to look into the past? Some undoubtedly get lost in their recollections of the past, and to some extent, the past is never truly as we remembered it to be, but I do miss the people that shaped my past. Do I exist for them the way they exist for me? How’s that for writing about yourself?

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plumbingmaintenance-services · 7 months

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The Cold Truth About Burst Pipes: A Gold Coast Homeowner's Guide

Living on the sunny Gold Coast comes with its perks – beautiful beaches, warm weather, and a laid-back lifestyle. However, even in paradise, homeowners face challenges, and one of the most common and damaging issues is burst pipes. Burst pipes can wreak havoc on your home, causing water damage, mold growth, and expensive repairs. In this article, we'll delve into the causes of burst pipes, how to prevent them, and what to do if you find yourself dealing with this plumbing nightmare on the Gold Coast.

Understanding Burst Pipes

Burst pipes occur when water freezes inside the pipes, causing them to expand and crack. While freezing temperatures might not be as common on the Gold Coast as they are in colder climates, it's still possible for pipes to freeze during the occasional cold snap, especially if they're located in unheated areas like basements, crawl spaces, or attics. However, burst pipes can also result from other factors, such as corrosion, high water pressure, or physical damage.

Prevention is Key

Preventing burst pipes is far easier and cheaper than dealing with the aftermath. Here are some tips to keep your pipes in good shape:

Insulate exposed pipes: If you have pipes in unheated areas, insulate them with foam sleeves or wrapping to protect them from freezing temperatures.

Maintain a moderate temperature: Keep your home heated during cold weather to prevent pipes from freezing. If you're going away on vacation during the winter, consider leaving the heat on or draining your pipes to prevent freezing.

Monitor water pressure: High water pressure can put strain on your pipes, increasing the risk of bursts. Install a pressure regulator to keep your water pressure at a safe level.

Schedule regular inspections: Hire a professional plumber to inspect your plumbing system regularly for signs of corrosion, leaks, or other issues that could lead to burst pipes.

Dealing with Burst Pipes

Despite your best efforts, burst pipes can still occur. If you discover a burst pipe in your home, follow these steps:

Shut off the water supply: Locate your main water shut-off valve and turn it off to stop the flow of water to the burst pipe.

Drain the pipes: Open faucets to allow any remaining water in the pipes to drain out.

Call a plumber: Contact a licensed plumber to repair the burst pipe. Attempting to fix it yourself could lead to further damage and costly repairs.

Document the damage: Take photos of the burst pipe and any water damage to your home. This documentation will be useful when filing an insurance claim.

Clean up the water: Use towels, mops, and a wet/dry vacuum to clean up any standing water to prevent mold growth and further damage to your home.

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vi-does-stuff · 2 years

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Learning You

Obi-Wan Kenobi x f!reader

Tags smut, fluff, christmas, There Was Only One Bed (well i mean technically five but that doesn’t matter), unprotected piv sex, mutual pining, sleep intimacy, modern au, alcohol consumption but they’re not intoxicated during sex, no y/n

Word count 5.1k

You’ve been friends with Anakin Skywalker for years now, and one of the perks of that status is the annual invitation to his family Christmas get-together, one which you always take up. This year, it’s being held at Anakin’s cousin’s house; the cousin on whom you’ve had a secret crush for what feels like forever. Fitting everyone in proves to be quite a task, however, and the sleeping arrangements may just prove to resolve your long-held feelings believed to be unrequited.

ao3

“You’re coming for family Christmas this year, right?” Anakin says to you over the phone.

“Of course. I’ll come every year until I'm forcibly removed from the guest list.”

Every year, the extended Skywalker family gets together for four days over Christmas, staying at a different family member’s house each year to enjoy the festivities. You’ve been going for several years now; you and Anakin became fast friends in your third year of university, and upon realising that you didn’t have anyone back home with whom you could spend Christmas, Anakin invited you to spend it with his family instead. Luckily, they all seemed to like you, so you’ve received another invitation every year since, and it’s something you always look forward to.

“Great. It’s at Obi-Wan’s again, so sleeping arrangements are going to be fun, but you should be fine as long as Ahsoka isn’t bringing Barriss.”

You hum. As much as you love Obi-Wan’s townhouse which is actually deceptively large inside (thank goodness for attics and cellars), there will be at least seven people there and ‘only’ five bedrooms for everyone. That means there will be room space for Dooku, Shmi, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin, and there’s space for an air mattress in one of the rooms as well. Now, you definitely don’t mind sharing with Ahsoka — you’ve done it before, after all — but her relationship with Barriss is getting more serious and you’re aware that it’s at least a possibility that she’ll come too. So what would that mean for you?

“Hey, worst comes to worst I’ll just sleep on the sofa,” you say, although already, alternate ideas are running through your head for what you could do.

“I’m sure Obi-Wan won’t let it come to that. You’ll be fine.”

Fine. You sure hope you will be as the two of you end the phone call, but any time spent with Obi-Wan Kenobi always leaves you anything but fine. He’d been gorgeous the first Christmas you spent with the family — that one happening at Dooku’s Very Large Fancy house, wherein bed sharing was never going to be a worry — and he was still gorgeous last month when you saw him for Ahsoka’s birthday party. But it goes beyond just his pristine appearance; Obi-Wan is one of the first people outside of a purely academic setting with whom you could gush about your interests and have an animated conversation partner. He’s smart, and kind, and you find yourself sighing dreamily just thinking about him before you can stop yourself.

Okay, it would be kind of a guilty dream to share a bed with Obi-Wan. Your rational side knows that nothing would ever happen between the two of you — Obi-Wan would never see you in that way — but you can’t help but yearn for it all the same. And as much as you try to push the thought away in the days between the conversation with Anakin and actually arriving at Obi-Wan’s house, you don’t really succeed at getting it out of your head.

When you do get there, it turns out you’re the first to arrive out of everyone, even Dooku and Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan greets you cheerfully at the door, face lighting up at the sight of you before showing you into his very nicely decorated, recently renovated living room which you spend the first minute or so just looking at. He’s wearing a dark green shirt — presumably to get in the festive mood — with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his arms look so good that you have to tear your eyes away from the man so as not to stare at him.

“How have you been?” Obi-Wan asks, as you have a look at the tree ornaments.

“Good, thank you. Busy.” You pause. “Who painted this?”

Obi-Wan comes over to look at the ceramic bauble, painted haphazardly with splashes of green and red that gives off an altogether brown effect. “Oh, that was Ahsoka when she was younger. She did several, everyone in the family has one — I’m just the only one she hasn’t convinced to stop putting it up.”

You laugh. “Nice. How’s your life currently?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Very uneventful, I’m afraid, aside from the redecoration of the house. The students seem to have been very boring this past term, and there’s not exactly been any faculty gossip either.”

“That’s a shame,” you say, and it is; you do rather enjoy hearing from Obi-Wan about all of the drama going on with his students and fellow teachers. He teaches classical languages at some fancy private school, and some of the things the kids get up to are ridiculous. “So- I was just wondering what the sleeping arrangements are going to be,” you say. Your curiosity has only piqued recently, since hearing that Ahsoka will in fact be bringing Barriss along with her.

“Ah, yes,” Obi-Wan says, sounding somewhat sheepish. “I need to talk to you about that. We’re rather- full, and I don’t want to force you to sleep on the sofa for several nights, so… well. Would you be comfortable sharing with me?” You don’t immediately respond, mostly from the shock of your secret wish actually coming true, and Obi-Wan seems to take your silence as reluctance. “You don’t have to, of course, but sofas aren’t comfortable, and the only other double bed is for Anakin and Padmé, and mine’s king-size so there’ll be plenty of space-”

“It’s absolutely fine, Obi-Wan,” you say, sounding a lot calmer than you feel. “I’m not uncomfortable with it if you aren’t.”

Obi-Wan sighs, and he sounds almost relieved. “Great. That makes everything a lot easier. Do you want to bring your things up to my room?”

“Sure,” you say, and you’re led up a few flights of stairs to Obi-Wan’s bedroom. It’s in the attic of the house, with some nice skylights and an en-suite, and you quietly appreciate this glimpse into Obi-Wan’s private life. There’s a very small Christmas tree in the corner of the room, and a desk that looks mostly unused aside from for storage, and your eyes are drawn to a large map of the world on the wall, looking slightly stylistic. “Oh- I have that map in just the same style,” you comment, and Obi-Wan smiles. “No small silver Christmas tree, though.”

“What a shame that your decor is so lacking,” Obi-Wan says, making you laugh a little.

“My deepest apologies. Could I possibly use the bathroom and get changed, please?” You ask.

“Of course. I’ll leave you to it up here, just come back down whenever you’re ready.”

“Great, thank you,” you say, and watch as Obi-Wan leaves you in his bedroom. It’s nice, you think to yourself, that he trusts you enough to leave you alone in his room, and you decide not to spend too long there and get ready quite quickly.

By the time you get back downstairs, Dooku and Qui-Gon have arrived. They usually travel together, living quite close to one another, and they both greet you with a smile. A few years ago, this would have made you feel rather awkward, what with Anakin not being here — particularly given you used to be quite scared of Dooku — but all members of the family have, at one point, accepted you into their fold, and you manage to join the conversation quite easily, noticing the quiet orchestral music that Obi-Wan must have put on in the time you were getting changed.

Anakin and Padmé arrive half an hour after Dooku and Qui-Gon do, and the conversation splits off into smaller groups, as it tends to do when there are more of you present. You wind up talking to Obi-Wan again, who is sitting next to you on the sofa, and it isn’t long before you both find yourself returning to your favourite topic, that of languages.

When you first met Obi-Wan, he was just an intimidatingly handsome private school teacher around whom you were always very awkward. You wanted to talk to him, but you didn’t know how, and it wasn’t until partway through the second Christmas gathering — another one at Obi-Wan’s house, pre-renovation at that time — that Anakin pointed out your shared love for language, and the two of you clicked. Every time the two of you converse, it’s practically a given that at some point, discussion will circle back to languages, typically of the classical kind. And you’re never going to complain about it.

You’re eventually interrupted by the doorbell ringing, and Obi-Wan pauses the conversation to answer the door. Shmi, Ahsoka and Barriss have arrived, bags in tow, and Shmi apologises for them being later than expected.

“Ahsoka managed to lose four different things and refused to leave without them. She was adamant they weren’t packed, but when we finally convinced her to check, where were they?” Shmi sighs, but she doesn’t seem too annoyed. “Anyway. Barriss, this is my father, Dooku, and Qui-Gon, my brother.”

The two men say hello, and Barriss returns the greeting, smiling somewhat awkwardly. You empathise with feeling slightly out of place, but hopefully given Barriss has met the rest of you several times, she’ll get settled in quite quickly. Especially whenever Obi-Wan decides to bring out his selection of very nice wines that you spot in a cupboard, remembering them from last time.

Obi-Wan goes to the kitchen to prepare tea, and you’re caught up in Padmé’s conversation with Shmi and Dooku. They’re asking about her pregnancy; she’s a few months in, and now that more people know, they’re getting more excited.

“Well, Anakin and I haven’t told anyone this yet, but-” Padmé pauses a second, ducking her head a little and smiling. “I went for my first ultrasound last week, and we’re having twins!”

Shmi gapes. “Twins?”

Ahsoka, who had previously been having a completely separate conversation, also seems shocked. “You’re having twins?” she asks loudly.

There’s a rustling noise from the kitchen, and Obi-Wan emerges within seconds. “Twins!”

Ahsoka faux groans. “Oh no, not two little Anakins. The idea of one more was bad enough.”

You smile at Padmé, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe not two little Anakins, but two little Padmés wouldn’t be too bad. I’m happy for you.”

“As am I,” Obi-Wan says. “As long as it doesn’t mean I’m saddled with twice the babysitting duties during the holidays.”

“As if I’d trust you with my kids, Obi-Wan,” Anakin jokes, and everyone laughs. Personally, you would guess that Obi-Wan would be very good with younger children, even if he prefers to teach older ones, and the thought of him looking after them makes you die a little on the inside.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Either way,” he says, “This calls for celebration!” And he reaches into his alcohol cabinet, brandishing one of the bottles of wine. “And I’ve even got some alcohol-free for you, Padmé,” he adds. He pours everyone a glass before returning to his cooking, promising that it will be finished shortly.

When it is finished, everyone eats where they’re already sitting — you only really do the formal settings on Christmas Day, and it’s not even Christmas Eve yet — and the atmosphere is its usual cheerful self. Obi-Wan joins the pregnancy conversation, asking questions about where the kids will be sleeping, and decorations, promising to help decorate the nursery if Padmé wants.

“Most of the renovations were done by proper people, but I did learn to paint and build a cabinet or two,” he says. “Even if I managed to break a vase in the process.”

Padmé laughs. “Well. As long as you don’t wind up doing anything to break the babies, then I’ll appreciate your help.”

“When are you going to properly start shopping for things?” you ask.

“Well, we’ve bought a few odd things here and there in the excitement,” Padmé admits, “But nothing yet. Probably in a few weeks. You’re more than welcome to join, if you’d like.”

You smile. You really like Padmé. At first, you felt slightly awkward when Anakin got into a serious relationship. You’ve never had feelings for him yourself — you have, after all, spent a rather large portion of your friendship with a shameful crush on his older cousin — but people make comments, and you were worried that Anakin’s partner would be jealous of you and try to split you apart. But Padmé has never done that; she recognises that your bond is purely platonic, and the two of you have built up your own friendship over the course of their being together. “That sounds lovely.”

The glass of wine, which quickly turns into multiple, makes you rather tipsy. The same goes for everyone else aside from Padmé, and you find yourself and Obi-Wan getting more comfortable next to each other. His sofa isn’t exactly small, but Anakin and Padmé are sitting on it too so it’s a bit of a squeeze, meaning you and Obi-Wan don’t really have much of a choice in your proximity. But after a while, the two of you stop trying to keep up any pretence of space, and practically wind up leaning into one another.

Dooku and Shmi head off to bed first, freeing up some space on the other sofa which Anakin and Padmé go to take up. You and Obi-Wan take advantage of the extra space, yes, but you still wind up sitting very close to one another, deeply absorbed once more into your earlier conversation. Bit by bit everyone else leaves, until it’s only the two of you, Anakin, and Padmé, and you all start talking about the plans for the rest of the stay.

“I was thinking of keeping things relatively relaxed,” Obi-Wan says. “Try to avoid the typical Christmas stress. Maybe get a takeaway tomorrow.”

Anakin laughs. “You just don’t want to cook again, do you?”

“Am I really that transparent? I must admit, though I stocked up, I am rather worried about the possibility of not having quite enough food for everyone.”

“Well. As long as there’s enough wine!” you say, raising your recently refilled glass. The others do so too, and Obi-Wan clinks your glasses together. You both share a look that makes your heart jump in your chest, Obi-Wan’s gaze flicking down to your lips for just a second, and you have to tear your gaze away. Though he’s also rather intoxicated, Anakin narrows his eyes at you like he’s assessing you both, and you just raise your eyebrows. You’d shrug, but Obi-Wan’s arm is around your shoulders, and you don’t want him to think you’re trying to get him to move.

Anakin and Padmé leave relatively soon afterwards, and then it’s just you and Obi-Wan. Though there’s still music playing in the background, the room feels oddly quiet, with a strange sort of tension you haven’t felt in a long time. You try to think of things to say, but as easy as conversation has been for the rest of the evening, you’re suddenly stumped. You keep sharing more looks, and though you desperately want to believe that Obi-Wan could possibly be returning your feelings, you’re terrified of putting yourself out there.

“So- do you like the renovations?” Obi-Wan eventually asks, and you’re grateful for the new topic of conversation.

“Yeah, I do. The house feels so different from the last time I was here.”

“I did want a change. It was so dark before. And it was fun to be able to redecorate.”

“I bet. I love decorating.”

“Well. Perhaps you can join the nursery-decorating crew,” Obi-Wan suggests with a grin.

You smile back at him. “I’d love to. As long as I don’t have to operate a power drill.”

“Ah, they’re fine. I can teach you how to use one.”

You raise your eyebrows. “What, would I have to call you Mr Kenobi as well?”

He laughs. “Not unless you want to.” It takes you both a few seconds to realise the possible connotations of his words, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks at the suggestion. Obi-Wan ducks his head. “Oops.”

It’s your turn to laugh, which quickly turns into a yawn. “Okay, I think that’s my signal that I should go to bed. I don’t want to be too tired tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” he says.

You both stand, thankfully not stumbling as you make your way up the stairs to the attic bedroom. “Damn, I don’t know how you’d manage these stairs if you were more drunk than this.”

“I- don’t, really,” Obi-Wan admits. “There used to be a lovely plant pot right here, but it turns out it couldn’t take my body weight.”

You laugh, but try to do so quietly so as to not wake anyone up — several people are probably sleeping by now, and you don’t want anyone to be disturbed. You’re rather glad to be on the top floor, so there aren’t any doors you have to walk past before you reach the bedroom.

Obi-Wan lets you take the bathroom first, and once he goes to brush his teeth you get into bed. It’s very comfortable, and it is quite big, so you wouldn’t have to worry about space too much. Obi-Wan finishes in the bathroom quite quickly, and when he emerges he is no longer wearing a shirt. You try not to stare as he walks over to turn off the light, rather grateful for the darkness if it means staring isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Is it comfortable?” He asks, once he’s joined you in bed.

“Yeah, thank you. Very comfortable.”

You’re not quite sure what to say again, nor are you sure exactly how to position yourself. Obi-Wan settles on his back, so you lay down on your side, facing away from him. You try not to think too much about the warmth that you can feel from the other side of the bed, something that you haven’t felt in such a long time, and if it weren’t for the tired haze that comes from your remaining intoxication, it would have taken you much longer to fall asleep.

You awake slightly, only halfway to proper consciousness, a little while later. You can’t quite focus on anything, but there’s something very warm and inviting behind you, just across the mattress. You mindlessly shuffle back into the feeling, pressing against a warm body which seems to be oriented towards your back, and immediately feel more comfortable.

A few seconds later, and what must be arms wrap around your torso, pulling you even closer to the warmth. Your brain appreciates more contact, feeling safe in this embrace, and it isn’t long before you drift off to sleep again.

Another few hours pass, and you find yourself waking up while in the middle of moving. You must’ve been shifting into a different position while you slept, but when you continue to move as you wake up, you realise you’re being blocked by something. There are arms around you, arms which pull you closer even as you’re moving, and your heart begins to race as you realise that they are Obi-Wan Kenobi’s arms. They feel so nice around you — he really does feel as strong as he looks — and you’re about to settle down again when you feel something pressing against you.

You completely stiffen, and it seems as though that is what wakes up the man next to you. He, too, takes a few seconds to realise what’s happened as you turn over to look at him before he swallows. “Shit- sorry, let me-” He goes to move his arms, and their absence makes you feel oddly sad. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise what I was doing.”

“It- it’s fine.” You feel blood rush to your cheeks again, as you will yourself to be honest for the first time. “I actually quite liked it.”

“Are you sure? The last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable.” Obi-Wan sounds strange, saying such a coherent sentence while his voice is still deep and scratchy from sleep, and you smile at him.

“Obi-Wan, I never feel uncomfortable around you. I like you. A lot.”

“Oh,” is all he says, and for a second you think you’ve gone too far, and then he moves to turn on the lamp at his bedside table. “I like you a lot too, sweetheart.”

“That- is quite a relief.”

You’ve both turned to face each other now, taking in each other’s faces freely for the first time. You’re no longer intoxicated, and the sleepy haze is quickly lifting, and you’re realising just how much you really want to kiss Obi-Wan.

He seems to want the same thing too, because he leans forward to close the already small distance between you, capturing your lips with his. The initiation of touch seems to spark something between you, as you both reach for the other with your arms, and Obi-Wan moves his leg to pull your lower body against him too. In an act of bravery you’ve never quite displayed before, you grind against the hardness in his underwear, and he moans right into your mouth, his grip tightening on your waist.

He pauses, his face moving away from yours a little. “Is this- is this okay?”

“Obi-Wan, this is more than okay. I’m not uncomfortable if you aren’t,” you repeat with a smile.

“That’s good. I am quite possibly the opposite of uncomfortable right now,” he says, and kisses you again. Deciding to be brave once more, you deepen the kiss, licking into his open mouth, which elicits another moan from the man. He pulls away again. “Do you want to-?” he asks.

“I really want to, yeah,” you say, allowing the hands still at your waist to pull up at your t-shirt, moving so that Obi-Wan can pull it over your head. The covers move back from the motion, and just as Obi-Wan takes in your bared torso you grasp the opportunity to stare at him like you’d wanted to earlier. The lamplight isn’t the brightest thing, but you can still see the defined muscles of his upper body, not huge but still very much there, and you once again cannot believe that this man actually returns your feelings.

Next, his hands go to your hips, ready to pull your underwear down. He gives you a questioning look first though, checking that it’s okay, and you smile and nod, helping him take them off. He removes his own underwear next, finally revealing his long, hard cock to you and you can’t help but swallow at the sight of it. You’ve been with people before, but Obi-Wan has to be the most well-endowed of any of your partners.

He pulls you closer once more, the feeling of bare skin on skin making you feel warm despite the undeniable coolness of the room, and you grind yourself against his thigh. Obi-Wan moves, repositioning you both so he’s above you, caging you in, and he reaches his hand down to the juncture of your thighs and presses two fingers against your cunt. You just about catch the way his eyes widen, and he lets out a heavy breath. “You’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he says, and pushes a finger tentatively inside you. Another one is pushed in shortly after, and he curls them so they hit that sweet spot inside of you, watching your face to see your responses to his movements.

He cups his hand so the end of his palm presses slightly against your clit, and you thrust your hips into his large hand, appreciating the extra sensation with a moan. He guides you to sit up, so it’s easier for you to press against his palm. “Is this good for you?” he asks, moving his fingers again, and you nod eagerly.

“Very good,” you say, pushing into his hand again. “Thank you.”

“You just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it for you.”

“Just need- just need you, Obi-Wan,” you say, and you see him smile in response to your words. His fingers quickly guide you right to the edge, so long inside you — much longer than your own, reaching parts of you that you can’t — and your movement against his palms becomes almost frantic as he continues to curl his fingers against your walls.

His other hand comes to support you as you reach climax, your torso curling in towards him as your head goes to rest on his shoulder in relief. “Fuck, Obi-Wan,” you almost groan, and he laughs slightly, slowly removing his fingers from you. You go to kiss him again a few seconds later, trying to show him how much you appreciate what he was doing through your embrace.

Once you move apart, you smile at him again. “Do you want to fuck me now? I’m on the pill, and I got tested recently, so you can…”

Obi-Wan laughs again, but he sounds like he’s losing patience with himself. “I very much want to fuck you now, sweetheart. I’m clean too. Can you lay back down for me?”

You do as he asks, and he remains in his position settled between your legs, moving so he’s lying just above you once more. You spread your legs further, both eager and desperate, and Obi-Wan takes his cock in his hand, preparing to press into you.

You’re grateful that he’s already opened you up on his fingers when his cock first enters you; you knew it would when you saw it before but the stretch still somewhat surprises you. A few seconds later, he pushes further inside you, moving slowly until you feel his hips against yours.

“You feel- so good,” he gets out. “So tight — can I move?”

“Please move, Obi-Wan,” you say, and he pulls out slightly before pushing in up to the hilt again. The movement rips another moan from you, pleasure burning inside you as Obi-Wan begins to find a rhythm to his movements. “Fuck.”

“Wanted to do this for- for so long,” he pants above you. “You’re perfect.”

The admission sets your heart racing yet further, wondering how long so long could be — surely nowhere near as long as your so long? — but not caring nonetheless, still unable to get your head around Obi-Wan having been interested in you for a while. Then he hits a particularly good spot inside you and your mind goes blank for a second.

It feels like the only noises you know how to make anymore are soft moans and the sounds that make up Obi-Wan’s name. At one point, you unconsciously get louder, and Obi-Wan shushes you. “Darling, I love that you’re making these noises, but you can’t be too loud. What if someone hears?”

You try to quiet yourself, but it doesn’t entirely work with the increasing sensations that Obi-Wan is wringing from you, and you’re surprised by the feeling of something covering your mouth. You blink, realising that it’s Obi-Wan’s hand, cupped over your lower face to muffle the sounds you’re making. The realisation only makes you moan more, eyes closing for a second, opening once more to catch Obi-Wan’s expression as he realises that you like it.

Your hands — free until now — reach up to Obi-Wan’s shoulders, anchoring yourself by holding onto his body. You take the opportunity to trace his upper body with your hands, feeling his muscles as they move beneath your palms, before resting on his strong biceps. Obi-Wan somehow manages to push in deeper, and your fingers curl, holding tightly onto his arms.

He moves his hand away from your face, but fills the space immediately with a kiss that he presses desperately against your lips. It’s not as precise as others have been, but you don’t care, just appreciating the increased amount of contact between you. His chest is pressed against your own, and his body is practically covering yours now, making you feel so safe between his arms.

“Obi-Wan, I’m close,” you say once he pulls away. “Can you- inside me?”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You close your eyes, nodding. “I’m sure,” you say.

Obi-Wan’s hips lose their previous rhythm, clearly ready to finish. He finally does, thrusting in deeper than usual as he comes, the extra pressure pushing you over the edge too. You feel really good, like the tension you’ve been subconsciously feeling with Obi-Wan has finally been resolved, and your hips writhe slightly as you ride the wave of orgasm.

He kisses you again to smother the noises you’re making, and pulls out, before lying down on top of you without propping himself up. You laugh a little at the extra weight, but don’t try to push him off, just wrapping your arms around his back to hold him closer and pressing a light kiss by his ear. “That was really good, Obi-Wan,” you say, breathing heavily. “Fuck, I can’t believe we just did that. I bet it’s like four in the morning.”

It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to laugh. “I don’t care. As long as you enjoyed it.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you say, realising your throat is rather dry. “Do you have a glass? I’m quite thirsty.”

Obi-Wan moves from on top of you, reaching to his bedside table and handing you an empty glass. “Here. I hope this is alright.”

“Thank you.” You slip out of bed, going to get yourself some water and using the bathroom while you’re in there, before coming back to Obi-Wan’s side. He’s warm, unlike the room around you, and you snuggle back into his arms. “So… I have to ask; how long have you felt like this?”

Obi-Wan exhales, sounding almost like a scoff. “Ages. It’s quite embarrassing really. Probably since I first actually spoke to you. I was mortified at the prospect of asking you to sleep up here, the last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan. It’s like I said, you never make me feel uncomfortable. And- well- I must admit, I’ve been attracted to you since the first Christmas I spent with everyone. I didn’t know how to speak to you at first, I was so nervous.”

“So we could’ve been doing this for a while now?”

You laugh. “Guess we’ll have to make up for lost time,” you say, moving to kiss Obi-Wan again. It’s softer than the previous ones, but you still love the feeling of his lips against yours.

“I suppose we will. After some more sleep, perhaps.”

“Good idea,” you say, the suggestion reminding you of how tired you still are. You both move so you’re lying down again, Obi-Wan keeping his arms around you, holding you back against his chest. He presses a light kiss against the side of your neck before relaxing, ready to sleep, and you appreciate the comfort his embrace gives, allowing you to soon drift off to a calm sleep.

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed <3

part two is out to read here

my masterlist

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #star wars fic #obi wan smut #vi does writing

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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ayo!! congrats on 666 <33 I'm not sure if its much of a request but I love how you wrote the demon kids personalities! I was wondering what kids of personalities you would see the other brothers kids having? Hypothetically of course (unless 👀)

BRO- I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while! Fan kids are fun to think about, what can I say? Now, these kids aren’t canon to the Awfully Familiar series, the HOL is crowded enough as is… but I hope you enjoy anyways!

(I’m giving all the kids names just so no one gets confused with which kid is whose)

Levi’s Kid

Uh let’s use probability to figure out how rare children of our snek boy are. The Otaku left the house (unlikely), spoke to a human being (very unlikely), did the devil’s tango with them (impossible)

I’m kidding, but seriously what the fuck why did this human exchange student look so much like Levi? Was that a tail? Hehehe… what a weird practical joke…

(I’m calling this MC Percy. Three guesses as to why)

Okay, onto the kiddo’s personality. I’m picturing them being REALLY hyped and REALLY enthusiastic about their hobbies and isn’t afraid to yammer about them. They’re good at what they do and they’re damn proud of it! They turn their envy into *~inspiration~* and get better at the things they enjoy doing!

In all fairness to Levi, it’s a bit easier for his kid because Percy isn’t literally being eaten alive and consumed by this sin every waking moment of his life… perks of being half human! :D

Percy loves swimming, and the ocean, and fish, and they brought a shark back from the beach- wait hang on a second-

It’s not uncommon for Levi to be hardcore gaming while Percy swims around in the fish tank.

The pair of them have a very good relationship, Percy is kind of Levi’s hero with how eager they are to get better at the things they love doing and how they almost never self pity spiral. The one issue is… ugh… Percy is a 🤢…. Sorry. Percy’s a 🤢 🤢-

They’re A FUCKING NORMIE. THEY DON’T LIKE ANIME!

Other than that, the two get along swimmingly. (Ba dum tisssss)

Percy’s reaction to Levi’s cool military titles is basically “WOAH! YOU HAVE BOATS?! CAN I GO ON ONE?!” And Levi would be a monster to decline.

Percy wore a pirate hat despite Levi telling them numerous times that they were a part of the navy, they CATCH pirates. Which are apparently still a big problem in the Devildom…

Also, Percy and Lotan absolutely adore each other. It makes Levi very happy

Satan’s Kid

Satan’s a pretty charming guy, and it’s canon that he’s amazing at seductive speech craft so it’s no surprise that he was able to seduce a human.

You know what is a surprise? The fact that Satan, the smart one, didn’t think to use protection! Like- DUDE I EXPECTED BETTER FROM YOU.

Whatever, anyway, when this kid slammed onto the floor of the assembly hall no one had time to react when the kid suddenly grew horns… and fangs… and a tail… OH FUCK THE KID WAS GOING THROUGH THEIR FIRST TRANSFORMATION WHAT THE FUCK-

(For simplicity’s sake, I’m going to call this kid Lyssa, mainly because of the meaning of the name)

The first thing Lyssa did was launch themselves straight at the first person they saw, and I ask you to guess exactly who sits in the middle seat of the assembly hall. That’s right… Satan… yay…

This kid nearly clawed his face off in the span of two seconds and it took Lucifer and Beel working together to drag them off of him and then Asmo had to step in to use his powers to calm them down. Well. That was eventful.

So Lyssa has a volcanic temper and they’re honestly really bitter and upset at everything, which is something that’s supposed to come in adult life, not so early. So what’s up with this kid? Well, when you’re born with a burning rage deep inside you that can be set off at even the slightest inconvenience and because of that everyone around you immediately assumes you’re dangerous or crazy can really do some damage to a kid.

So who oh who is Lyssa going to blame for this…? Hmmm… who is responsible for the anger? *Side eyes Satan*

“Wow, this kid is blaming me for passing down my wrath even though I couldn’t control giving it to them and if I had the choice I would have made sure they wouldn’t have to live with it and they’re mad at me for subjecting them to existence itself… wow this feels so bad :( who would treat someone like this..?” “*Dad sigh*”

The two of them do eventually get along. It’s actually Satan who extends the olive branch and offers to help them control their anger. As the two spend time together, Lyssa’s intense hatred slowly subsides.

So… what’s Lyssa going to do now? They’ve spent so much of their life being defined by their anger… who the fuck are they????? U-uh… cats! Cats! Lyssa likes cats! Is liking cats a personality? No? Okay… um… Music! Music is relaxing! Lyssa likes music! Um… um… ooo- look at that! They like space! And stars!

You knew what they don’t like? School. Lyssa doesn’t like learning in a controlled environment where they’re being told what to learn. Leave them alone so they can go read about space.

Beelzebub’s kid(s)

*munch* *munch* *chew* *chomp* huh, *chomp* why does the takeout- I mean the human look so much like him…? They’re his kid..? *choke* *cough* *cough* …Huh. Want some chips?

Surprisingly chill first meeting. Well, Beel and the kid were chill, everyone else was freaking the fuck out.

I’m calling this kid Pepper. Why? Fucking guess.

Pepper themselves is just… chill. They’re sort of like a capybara, their vibes are just so immaculate that everyone wants to hang out around them.

Unlike Beel, Pepper’s penchant for food mainly comes from “food is good.” instead of “my body is literally eating itself alive every second of the day and I need to be eating something at almost all times in order to stave off a rampage.” Beel is very happy that his kid doesn’t have to live with food constantly on the brain.

All was well until three days into the exchange program when Pepper asked at the dinner table “so when are we bringing my twin down here?”

…twin genes man… twin genes…

Second kid, I’m calling them Cane. (CANE PEPPER, GET IT?! GET IT?!) this kid is less like a capybara and more like a honey badger. They don’t give a shit.

Here’s the thing though… they’re identical twins.

Cane is basically Beel but smaller. They follow Beel to the gym and usually get stopped at the door. “Kids aren’t allowed in the gym.” Ha, the rules don’t apply to Cane, they just cross their arms and raise their eyebrows and whoever is stopping them just steps aside. Don’t fuck with the honey badger kid.

Pepper and Cane are super close though, but don’t ask if they have a telepathic link or something, Cane will fuck you up and Pepper won’t be able to stop them. (I know a pair of identical twins, and the amount of times they’ve been asked if they can read each other’s minds is enough to make anyone homicidal)

Belphegor’s kid

*squints* how’d this happen..?

Whatever. When Belphie’s kid woke up on the floor of the assembly hall everyone took one look at this kid and collectively went “shitballs”

Belphie was in the attic and his kid was wandering around the house like they ran the place! What the fuuuuuuuuck was Lucifer supposed to do with this????

Anyway, meet Arien.

Arien, how does one describe this little hellspawn? Well, one would call them the brood of Lucifer or the spawn of Satan but that would be false because this manipulative evil devil-child that crawled straight out of a teacher’s nightmares is BELPHIE’S kid. And it fucking SHOWS.

This kid won the demon/human genetic lottery and they’re going to make it everyone’s problem. Basically, they’re sin is sloth, but unlike Belphie, Arien’s is more voluntary, if that makes sense. They sleep and slack off because they like not doing work, not because they’re always tired. They have this sort of lazy relaxed facade that vanishes the second it’s not needed, it’s honestly kind of terrifying.

They quickly learn that if they just pretend to be having troubles with being constantly tired, the rest of the house will go easy on them if they miss their chores and schoolwork.

Jeez Louise when this kid met Belphie…

They both just stared at each other for a solid five minutes before anyone said anything. Belphie somewhat nervously started up his “oh woe is me get me out of here :(“ charade, and the kid played along for a few weeks, until of course, they got suspicious.

You remember how Belphie guilt spiralled with L!MC? Yeah imagine that but 40 times worse, and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

But yeah, blah blah blah Arien breaks Belphie out, they don’t die, family’s back together, happily ever after. But not quite. Arien’s “oh no I’m sorry I’m sleepy…” charade was found out and boy howdy was everyone pissed.

Surprisingly, it was Belphie who gave Arien the wake up thwack, but Arien called Belphie out on his laziness so Belphie was forced to become a better example.

The way they fixed Ari’s behaviour? Extra chores, extra schoolwork, extra everything, and the boys did nothing to help. Basically, “this is how we felt! Deal with it!”

It worked… thankfully.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #Obey me fankids #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Headcanons #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me MC

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

Text

Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer!

There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

“So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

“Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

“Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

“Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

“Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

“Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

“Have you guys opened presents yet?”

You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

“No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

“I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

“Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

“I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

“I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

“Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

“Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

“Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

“I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

“No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

“What are you gonna name her?”

He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

“Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

“Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

“She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

“I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

And you still felt like you were missing something.

Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

Jean: You awake?

Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

“Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

“Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

“I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

“Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

“This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

“Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

“You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

“Y-yes, feels so good.”

His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

“You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

“Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

“Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

“Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

“D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

“Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

“Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

“Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

“I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

“I’m full of surprises, baby.”

You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

“Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

“God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what’s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

“I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

“Oh fuck. Good girl.”

His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

“Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

“Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

“So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

“Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

“I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

“Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

“Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

“Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

“Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

“What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

“It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

“I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

“You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

“I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #aot jean #aot jean kirstein #snk jean #snk jean kirstein #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot #jean aot #jean kirstein fanfic

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tllgrrl · 1 year

Text

Welcome Home: Ch 2 - Safe and Home: Special Delivery For Sarah

Relationship: Sarah Wilson / Bucky Barnes | Rating: M

Summary: Team Cap has been away on a mission for 3 months. They—he—will be back, safe and home, in 3 days. 3 more days…

* * * * * * * * * *

Sarah turned off the TV, calling it a night after attempting a 3-episode mini-binge of Great British Bake-off.

She’d started to doze off in the middle of the first episode because it had been a busy day at work, not only doing the day-to-day operational stuff, but also making sure everything was in place and set to run smoothly for the next week while she was going to be on call, working from her home office.

Having a brother who’s an Avenger definitely has perks.

His friend and predecessor, Steve Rogers, liked the Internet well enough. It helped him catch up to modern times. Sam Wilson, however, completely embraced modern technology and wanted to have access to everything at a moment’s notice, even when he was at Sarah’s for some R&R.

And to that end, she and the kids benefitted from having excellent, dedicated, encrypted WiFi in their home, through StarkTech.

Now she was relaxed from the shower she took before hunkering down on the couch for a little Netflix and the half glass of beer left over from dinner.

Noticing that there was only one note taken: “Nadiya – Iced Buns”, she stood up, put her notepad and pen on the coffee table, picked up the empty glass and took it to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light there.

She rinsed the glass, put it in the dish rack, closed her eyes in the dark, and…

…feels a solid warmth against her back, a scratchy stubble and soft lips on her neck, an arm on either side of her, and both of their hands resting on the edge of the sink.

One arm, warm flesh.

The other arm, being metal, would be a little bit cooler. Not quite the same temperature of his body. But not…cold.

She feels his arms encircle her waist, his mouth on the nape of her neck, as the shining dark metal hand inlayed with gold slides up, cups her breast and—

The soft clatter of cubes from the ice maker in the freezer jolts her out of her reverie.

She shakes her head and sighs.

“Dammit.”

(3 more days.)

The kids were at a birthday party weekend sleepover, so she was having some final Me Time before all her Men returned: the Little Men, her sons Cass and AJ, and also the Big Men, Sam (just wanting to take a break and go fishing with the kids), and Bucky (craving “properly seasoned food”, the kids…and her), who were due in 3 days, after being gone for 3 months.

(3. Whole. Months.)

Cass and AJ were practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation of when their uncles came back from the latest Captain America mission.

They were planning some kind of “special celebration” that involved the uncles’ favourite cookies—that she’d bake—and a special “Welcome Home” banner that they’d make.

But Cass and AJ weren’t the only ones.

She was starting to bounce off of the walls, too.

Yes, she was looking forward to having her brother here for a few days, but she was bouncing off of the walls in anticipation of the return of the man who she was going to—among other things—let put his hands—among other places—in her hair.

As soon as he’s safe and home…

She checked the downstairs doors and windows, turned off the living room lamp, headed upstairs to the bathroom to brush her teeth, etc., and was on her way up the smaller second set of steps to the attic when her phone rings.

(Right on time.)

“Hello, Gorgeous.”

There he was…the piercing, but soft, smiling, blue-grey eyes. The dark hair, looking a little long and kinda shaggy but in a good way. The beard, also a little on the scruffy side, but still fetching in that way.

(And…be still my heart…are those a few grey hairs??? Yummmm…)

He and Sam would most likely stop off at the barbershop before they come home, or hopefully wait a day or two because she’s gonna want her hands in that hair.

(He’s gonna want my hands in that hair, too.)

She couldn’t tell exactly where he was, but it seemed like he was en route to somewhere, who knows where in what part of the world.

It looked like he was in the back seat of a vehicle and it was dark outside.

She opens the door to his room, walks in and, closing the door behind her, heads straight for the bed.

“Hey there, Handsome! How you doin’?”

“Aside from missing you with my whole body and soul? Fine and dandy. You?”

“Aside from missing you with my whole body and soul? Swell.” She climbs onto his bed, lays there on her back, and inhales his scent while looking into his eyes there on the phone in her hand framed by the starry sky outside of the skylight.

Seeing him right now, she feels something she hadn’t felt since she first started seeing—and after she lost—her late husband, the father of her boys. Cassius.

It was a feeling she thought she’d closed the door on and would never feel for someone again.

She’d missed Mama and Daddy when they passed. She still misses them. She’d missed Sam after The Snap. And, yes, she still misses Cassius.

This wasn’t…isn’t…that.

Eventually, after Cassius passed, this feeling lessened because she had 2 babies here who needed her.

And in addition to raising these two children, she had a generations-old family business to keep afloat, bills and bill collectors to keep at bay, food to keep on the table, and a roof to keep over their heads.

She’d been on a couple of dates, even tried a “relationship” that didn’t last past a few months, and when it ended, she didn’t feel anything even near…this.

And now, here it is again. It sneaked up on her, all stealthy, and it grabbed her by the heart as she looked into those piercing, but soft, smiling, blue-grey eyes.

That…feeling:

Longing.

“Thought I’d give my baby a quick call before she turned in...”

He looks up, gets closer to his phone and whispers, “…an’ it looks like ya’exac’ly where I can’t wait ta see ya.”

(Old School Brooklyn accent’s sneaking in. He’s tired…or anxious. Or both. Just 3 more days, sweetheart.)

“I was missing you, sithandwa, and so here I am…in your bed…”

“In my…mmmmm…are ya now. Well…before I get distracted thinkin’ about all o’ that, I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“A heads-up…for what?” (Please, Lord, not a mission extension…)

She holds her breath, waiting to hear the exact number of days to be added to the 3 she’s already trying to get through before he’s home.

“I got a little something for ya. Had to call in some favors to have it delivered to the base and then brought directly to you…tonight. Hold on…”

He leans away from his phone, talking to someone in the front seat.

“Sorry about that. Team member talk. Map stuff. Anyways…”

“So…someone is delivering something here…tonight?”

“Yeah. Driver notified me that he should be there in about…5 minutes. Sorry for the last minute late night delivery, but I just wanted to get it there to ya sooner, rather than 3 days from now.”

“3 more days. I can’t wait to see you, James. How you been sleeping, baby?”

“Surprisingly well. Especially when I get ta talk to you before turning in. Just a second…ETA about…2 minutes.”

“Is this package big?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a huge, mischievous grin. “Well…um…I been told—“

She faintly hears it, a knock on the front door.

“That’s probably the driver.”

“You heard that…? Wait. Who am I talking to?! Of course you heard that! Super-hearing-ability, you!” They both laugh.

“You look beautiful, by the way. So help me, Sarah…I can’t wait to hold you.”

She’s wearing some men’s PJ bottoms and one of his t-shirts, over a lace bralette. Her hair is in 4 twists and covered with one of her her satin-lined bandanas.

She’s decent, but puts a silky robe on over the t-shirt because what some young recruit from the base doesn’t need is to see her in this t-shirt without a proper bra on underneath.

Especially when she’s just been talking to her lover, and it’s…obvious.

She goes downstairs to the living room, makes sure the baseball bat is behind the front door, and the doorstop is in place, looks through the peep and sees someone standing on the porch, holding…what the…?

(Is all…that…flowers?)

“Baby…did you—James. Hello? Did you send—Dammit. Wouldn’t you just…”

Her phone screen now reads CALL ENDED - LOST CONNECTION, and he’s no longer there.

“He’s probably trying to call back...”

She quickly goes to her speed dial contacts, pulls up the special In Case of Emergency Group, turns on the porch light, opens the door a crack…

“Hi, Sarah...”

And there’s that little 3-finger wave.

“Wh—?!? WHAT?!? “

(Welcome Home is on The AO3. All of it.)

#sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarahcentric #fanfiction #self repost #rated g to e #guest star #sam wilson #fleur de louve #tfatws

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lord-of-gender · 3 years

Text

A Small Problem - Part 1

My version of @deyageka’s Childinnit au. 3145 words

Dream revived Tommy, but there were unforeseen consequences

"Dweam! I hungy," Tommy complained, he had appeared in the cell after getting revived, with almost no memory of his life. And he looked to be only five or six years old.

"Look kid, all I have are potatoes," Dream snapped. He didn't know which was worse, teen Tommy that actively disregarded him and never listened, or toddler Tommy who was just annoying and never stopped complaining.

"No, no poo-tato," he grabbed the potato Dream had handed him and chucked it in the lava. Tommy had been talking with the same mocking tone all week.

"You have got to be kidding me," Dream glared at Tommy, resisting the urge to kill him again, knowing it would be better if he was alive, even in this state.

"La, la, la, I'm singing, I'm like Wilby," Tommy said, knowing perfectly well he was getting on Dream's nerves.

"Oh thank god," Dream said when he heard footsteps echoing over the lava. "Sam! Get this child out of here!"

"Hi Sam!" Tommy yelled, his high pitched voice hardly recognizable by Sam. "You have a funny name! I am looking for Wilbur!"

"T-Tommy?" Sam said, the disbelief clear in his voice. "Tommy go the the corner in the water!"

"Why?" Tommy asked, clearly not getting the urgency of the situation.

"Just do it you child," Dream demanded, pushing Tommy towards the corner of the cell.

"Okee," Tommy made his way over and stood in the water. Within seconds he was on the other side with Sam. "Hallo! Hehe, Techno always says that. Ooh! I'm big and scawy like Techno!"

"I'm so confused, how are you alive, and why are you, younger," Sam said, not expecting a response.

"I dunno," Tommy shrugged and with a huge smirk began running away from Sam. "Weeeee, freedom!"

"Tommy!" Sam ran after him, eventually cornering him as Tommy came up to the other lava. Noticing the kid's fearful and entranced expression as he started at the lava.

"No, lava bad," he muttered, backing away from it, he didn't know why, he just didn't like it. "Where's Wilbur?"

"I don't know, why don't you come with me and we'll find him," Sam reached his hand out for Tommy to take. Eventually he did. Looking between the lava and Tommy, Sam didn't feel right making him go through all the protocol, not like this. So he lead Tommy through the guards' secret passageways until they got to the main entrance of the prison.

"What is this place," Tommy asked, "why is Dweam in there?"

"This is a place where bad people go, and Dream is a very bad man," Sam said, leading him to the lockers. "Go into the chest and give me the card in there."

"Are you going to put Techno in there," Tommy asked, opening the ender chest and pulling out what Sam had told him.

"Not unless I have to," Sam said, the thought had crossed his mind, but if he did attempt to Phil would defend Techno. The two were powerful, but had stayed isolated in the mountains and didn't currently pose a threat.

"Is this all mine," Tommy looked at the contents in the regular chest in wonder.

"Yes, but we can leave it here or I can hold onto it until we figure this out," Sam said, talking about getting Tommy back to his normal age.

"But it's mine," Tommy said, he pulled out the axe and tried swinging it around, but the weight was made for someone bigger and stronger than him so he ended up falling to the ground. "Uh, you have it. Too heavy."

"I'll give it back as soon as you get back to normal," Sam said, ruffling Tommy's hair as he put the Axe of Peace back. "But first let's get out of here."

"Okay," Tommy said and Sam took him to the secondary exit he made just in case. They landed down in the water the prison had been built on and Sam helped Tommy swim to the shore.

"Tunnel!" Tommy said, pointing at the tunnel leading to Snowchester. "Let's go there!"

"Alright, I'll take you to Snowchester." Sam crafted a boat and got in, with Tommy getting in behind him, humming to himself as they headed towards the snowy biome.

"Who lives here," Tommy asked, taking in every bit of detail and rubbing his hands together to warm up.

"Tubbo does, I think Foolish and Ranboo do as well," Sam said, he knew he would have to go back to the prison to double check all the safety protocol and move Tommy's items.

"Tubbo," Tommy perked up, "let's see Tubbo!"

"I don't think he's here right now," Sam said, he would have to go back to the Dream SMP to see if Puffy or anyone else could watch Tommy, but then he'd have to explain what happened. "Come on Tommy."

"I'm cold," he said, trudging through the snow behind Sam to Tubbo's cabin.

"I know, but you need to stay here while I go do some things," Sam said, grabbing a cloak from a chest and wrapping it around Tommy. "I don't think Tubbo will mind if you look around."

"Who's up there," Tommy asked, hearing noises from the attic. He went over to the ladder and climbed up and opened the trapdoor to see Micheal entertaining himself. "Hallo! I'm Tommy."

"Oh, that's Micheal," Sam said, climbing up behind him. "Be careful. I have to go. Don't go outside, okay?"

"Okee," Tommy said, looking intently at Micheal as he snorted to himself. Tommy then made some piglike noises, making the young zombie piglin perk up and squeal in excitement.

"Wait, you know piglin," Sam asked, pausing as he started back down.

"Techno teached me, he's a pig-in," Tommy said, then made more noises and the two children continued to talk to each other. "Go away now."

"Well have fun, stay safe Tommy," Sam said, climbing down and closing the doors behind him.

Michael started to point at the photos of him, Ranboo, and Tubbo. Tommy looked at them and searched his memory, as far as he could remember Phil didn't have any pictures like that. Michael oinked as he offered Tommy a handful of cake. His stomach rumbled as he looked at the treat.

"Here I can give you a potato," Tommy said, offering one of the raw potatoes he had left over from the prison. "I don't like them." Michael lit up and took the potatoes, happily eating them.

"Hi Michael," Tubbo came up to see them, they hadn't even heard him open the door. "I'm back buddy."

"Michael wishes you and Ranboo were home more, and he's cold," Tommy said, pulling Tubbo's attention to him. "Hallo!"

"I- hello, who are you," Tubbo asked, he didn't think any other children were on the server, let alone human children.

"It's me, Tommy, remember me Tubbo," Tommy grinned, cake frosting covering his mouth. Tubbo froze. There was no way, it was impossible, he was seeing things. He had to be. Slowly Tubbo climbed back down the ladder.

"How is he," Ranboo asked, carrying a armful of red berry branches, he had slowly been working on clearing out all the berry bushes so Michael could safely walk around outside.

"I-I uh, he's cold," Tubbo stammered, still not fully processing what he found out.

"I can make him a coat, we do have the extra fabric," Ranboo said, he climbed up the ladder to see Tommy and Michael.

"You need this more than I do," Tommy pulled off the cloak and wrapped it around Michael. "I'll ask them to put a fireplace up here."

"Well hello there, who are you," Ranboo said, closing the trapdoor behind him. He sat down in front of the boys.

"Tommy," he said gleefully, "I was stuck with a bad man called Dweam, Sam took me here. He's looking for Wilbur."

"I- okay, do you remember anything before that," Ranboo asked, wondering if he knew everything that Tommy did. "Do you remember me?"

"Uh, no, but you're Ranboo right?" Tommy asked, "and why is Dweam in prison? What bad things did he do?"

"Well he killed multiple people, he blew up something that used to be Tubbo's, he stole some things of yours and did alot of bad things to you," Ranboo said, not mentioning how Dream had used him as well.

"Well I don't remember," Tommy said, he looked at Michael who had been jumping in the corner and snorted to him. "He wants to go outside."

"You understand him," Ranboo asked, he had been trying to find a book on piglin but now that he knew Tommy could speak it that would be a big help.

"Yeah, Techno taught me," Tommy said, making Ranboo feel stupid. Of course, he should have asked Techno to teach him, but then again he had no idea when he would wake up, and he might end up having to tell Techno about Michael.

"What do you remember," Ranboo asked, trying to get a better idea of what happened to Tommy, even if he wouldn't remember.

"Uh, Philza and Wilbur are my family, Techno is a friend of Dadza's, he was the ruler of some place," Tommy stifled a yawn, "the Antarctic Empire."

"Do you want to stay here until Sam comes back," Ranboo asked, Tommy nodded, leaning his head against him.

"Mhm," Tommy mumbled, the events of the past week finally catching up with him. Now that he was outside and could see the sun his lack of sleep started to take hold.

"I'll see if we have an extra blanket," Ranboo said as Michael looked at Tommy curiously. He went down the ladder to see Tubbo muttering to himself.

"Ranboo, please tell me I was just seeing things up there," Tubbo said, pacing around. "Cause I thought I saw Tommy, young Tommy."

"Oh he's there alright," Ranboo said, "I didn't believe it at first, but of course I've never seen young Tommy. So he couldn't have been an illusion."

"But how is he alive," Tubbo said, sitting down on one of the chests.

"Maybe Sam will know, cause Tommy doesn't remember why he was in there," Ranboo said, he grabbed their extra blanket. "But he is cute like this."

"Don't let him know that," Tubbo let out a small chuckle. When Ranboo went back up Tommy had fallen asleep in Michael's bed, Michael was lying down by him.

"Tubbo, get up here, you need to see this," Ranboo whisper yelled.

"What is it," Tubbo came up and 'aww'ed when he saw the two boys sleeping next to each other. "I forgot how peaceful he is when asleep."

"He sleeps like a baby," Ranboo said, "we're not letting this go when he gets back to normal, right?"

"Definitely not," Tubbo laughed, imagining the amount of teasing they could do with this.

"Ranboo, Tubbo, are you guys here," Sam called from downstairs.

"Shh, Tommy just fell asleep," Ranboo jumped down with Tubbo following behind. "So why is he like this?"

"Dream said he brought Tommy back," Sam said, "and he isn't happy this happened."

"Back, like back from the dead," Tubbo clarified.

"Yes, I'm going to try to look through my books and see if there's anyway to fix this," Sam said, "I just wanted to make sure Tommy was okay, are you guys good to watch him? If not I'm sure I could find Puffy or someone else."

"Well once he wakes up I could take Tommy with me, he's talked alot about Phil and Techno," Ranboo offered.

"I don't know, Phil hasn't been the best parent to Tommy in the past," Sam said, "I'd much rather have him stay here, where I know he's safe."

"Well we can't keep this a secret forever, the entire server knows he died," Tubbo said.

"But if the Eggpire knows he's alive they'll go after him," Sam said, "Sam Nook warned me that they were trying to kill him."

"I think alot more than just them were after him," Ranboo said, "If I remember correctly Niki said Jack had tried to kill him." He left out the part of Niki trying to as well, but she had changed, and she was part of the Syndicate.

"So we keep this between us right now, once we get Tommy aged back up he can decide what he wants to do," Sam said.

"I'll look through Phil's library for a solution," Ranboo pulled out his book to write down a reminder.

"We still have to tell someone, there's going to be times when we're all busy," Tubbo said, "and Tommy's not going to be as willing as Michael to stay here all day."

"I think we can trust Puffy, and possibly Quackity, that way he can be around different people," Sam said, he would have to check how close Tommy and Quackity were. Foolish was an option as well, and could protect Tommy if it came to it, but with the Eggpire attacking Foolish he wasn't so sure.

Later that day Ranboo had met up with Philza to help him work on his cabin. Phil was in the basement, trading with Techno's villagers.

"So Phil, can I ask you about something?" Ranboo said, coming down to help him.

"Of course mate, what's up," Phil said.

"What's the 'Antarctic Empire'," Ranboo asked, what Tommy said earlier stuck with him. And he knew it was safer to ask Phil before Techno.

"Do not ever bring that up with Techno," Phil said, his tone dark and warning. "Where the fuck did you hear that?"

"I- uh, Ghostbur mentioned something about it so I got curious," Ranboo lied, remembering that Sam had wanted to keep Tommy on the down-low for the time being.

"Alright, just don't tell Techno that I told you," Phil said, "the Antarctic Empire is a land far from here, it's where Techno lived before coming here. It's not quite an empire anymore and is the reason he hates government. He saw the state of everyone who lived there and hated himself for it. So he ended his reign and went into hiding, watching as the Empire tore themselves apart."

"That's crazy," Ranboo said, "but it does explain alot."

The next day Sam had run into Quackity while trying to find Puffy or Ranboo. He needed someone to watch Tommy, but Tuboo said he had other things to do.

"Oh thank god, Quackity can you do something for me," Sam said, stopping him.

"Uh, what is it," Quackity asked as Sam threw a book to him.

"Read that and go into the second floor suite of Tommy's hotel," Sam said, "you are to tell no one, if you have any questions find Tubbo or Ranboo."

"What the fuck, I have things I need to do myself," Quackity called as Sam ran off to finish repairing the prison, but with the mining fatigue he didn't know how long it would take him. Quackity sighed as he looked at the book, it wasn't titled and he decided to just pocket it. He walked to the hotel and when he confirmed Jack wasn't there, went up where Sam told him.

"Hallo!" Tommy waved, making Quackity jump. "Are you Big Q?"

"No, no, no," Quackity shook his head, it had to be some cruel joke.

"No?" Tommy said, "are you sad?"

"No! What's your name?" Quackity said, there was no way this was Tommy. He wasn't a kid, he was dead.

"Tommy, I'm five," he said, then walking back to what he was doing. He took a yellow paper he had cut out and put together, and put it on his head. It was a crown. "I'm like Techno!"

"Okay, but why are you a child," Quackity pulled out the book and began to read it. It explained to him the situation as far as they knew, that he was to keep Tommy hidden, and the added death threat if anything happened to Tommy.

"What's wrong with being a child," Tommy asked, everyone had been talking as if him being like this was wrong. This statement make Quackity burst out laughing, the older Tommy would have never said that.

"I don't know, I mean you're probably less of a handful at this age," Quackity said, ruffling Tommy's hair. He had to make the most of this, and he had the perfect idea of how. "How would you like to help me annoy an old grumpy ghost?"

"Sure," Tommy grabbed the moth toy he had spent all of last night begging Sam and Tubbo to make. "Ready."

"What's your moth's name," Quackity asked as he and Tommy left the hotel. Tommy waved by to Sam Nook as they passed him.

"His name is Clementine," Tommy said, Quackity tried not to laugh again as his British accent fully came out when he said the name. "And you have to say it just like me."

"Okay kid," Quackity spotted Jack in the distance, he was coming in their direction. "Listen to me, we're going to play superheroes right now. My name is Big Q, and yours, what's a name you like?"

"Bird man!" Tommy said, Quackity shook his head, there was no way Jack would buy that. "No, um, Sleepy Boi! It's what Wilbur would call us."

"That works. Now I need you to tell everyone you see that's your name, cause we're under cover and we can't let anyone know our real names," Quackity said, he just had to hope Jack would fall for it.

"Okee Big Q," Tommy said as they passed Jack. He originally walked right by, but did a double take when he saw Tommy.

"Wait is that- no that's impossible," Jack stopped, he said it to no one in particular, but Quackity had heard him.

"Who? This kid," Quackity asked, playing it off. "Why don't you tell Jack your name."

"I'm Sleepy Boi!" Tommy said, putting his fist in the air. There was a moment of confusion on Jack's face, but he seemed to buy it.

"Well if this little guy wants to have a room in my hotel, I might be willing to give it at a discount," Jack said, "well I have work to do, see you around Big Q."

"But that's my hotel," Tommy said as Jack went out of earshot, "Sam told me."

"Well right now you're not old enough to own the hotel," Quackity said, "and because Jack is the only employee he automatically got ownership when you were in the prison."

"I'm going to fire him as soon as I take it back," Tommy said, his head held high.

"Alright, you do that," Quackity chuckled, there was a small chance he would actually do that once they found a way to fix him.

#childinnit #tommyinnit #awsamdad #ranboo #micheal

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

KISMETS.

Harry Styles x fem!reader.

Slow burn, platonic love and jealousy clićhes.

Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!

Frenemies and dad!harry.

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST LETS TALK! PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor.

"Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them. Harry hates her hormones. Little bitches.

Y/N is carrying a baby for Harry and his girlfriend --- but something went downhill.

Twinkling droplets of crystal rain pelts against the bricked road subsiding harsh noises of surrounding but a nettled groan caught everyone's attention ‐‐‐ stares turning in direction. Have you ever wanted to just disappear under a warm invisible cloak and enjoy the drollery aspects of life without worrying? Because this is what Y/N wants at the moment as she stands under the bus stop shelter with few people beside her and the british showers starts pouring mocking at her for not carrying an umbrella with her.

Everyone leaves when the bus didn't arrive — who remains behind's Y/N huffing and pouting wishing for rain to stop. When it didn't she muttered a 'fuck it' before risking catching a cold and stepping under the pitter patter with her books atop her head for less damage.

Trying to punch in the passcode of society's gate with shivery fingers perhaps it opens before that startling her wet-y self. Similar car drives near her and a head pops in from inside with his big goofy smile and crinkles by his charming eyes, "Ni!" She exclaims pushing away the drippy hair sticking to her lips with her pinky.

"Pet you're gonna catch a cold. Want me to drop ya?" Niall kinda yells over the rain's loudness. She sighs fog whirling infront of her. Shoves her hand in her trench coat's pocket to seek for heat instead it's all icky and drenching.

"No it's just a tiny walk away. I'll manage — call me will tell ya how my class went." She waves him looking at him from her shoulder while rushing away towards the most elegant house in the block. Niall gives her a thumbs up from before getting out of sight and she tries to hop over the puddles of water to make it to doorsteps.

The water she brings from outside pooling at the dark timber floor - it trails behind her past the pink door as she rushes jumpy-ly where the most hot's in the house and apparently it's more than she expected, "ouch. ouch my eyes!!" She screams covering them at the sight of Harry butt naked pinning his girlfriend against the wall near fire place. Her face turning into a tomato at the horrendous raid but she seems pissed and well . . displeased that Y/N ruined a mind boggling orgasm for her.

Before, they could disattach from eachother to unravel their humiliation Y/N jogged up to attic into the guest room slamming her forehead against the door to knock away the embarrassment. She always barges in Harry's house without announcing but sometimes she forgets he isn't alone everytime his girlfriend comes to live by every two weeks (it's his fault too that he never locks the main door as anytime anyone's coming at his place). Changes into clothes she forgets at her visits, tries to dry her hair with a towel that no-more smells like Harry but expensive fabric softeners and has a pep talk for a minute to show herself down infront of them.

Instinctive voices coming from the Kitchen and she pads towards it. They act like nothing happened. Like Harry wasn't dick deep into Chessie moments ago. Harry ushers her to barstool and hands her a cuppa tea moving on with a kiss to her head. It still gives her butterflies even though how many sense awakening scoldings she gave to herself at 3 ams.

"'M sorry." She squeaks with a wavering smile wrapping her palms around the mug. Harry cackles softly brushing the underbelly of his nose as Chessie cordinated the cutlery drawer, "'s okay moppet. we finished our business when ye' left." Y/N almost choked on her hot beverage gulping it down when Chessie shocked gasp throwing little socksies that were laying ontop of the counter at Harry. Are those of toddler? Adam's out of town so there's no way it could be his daughter's socks. Maybe Chessies's one of friend's?

"Should've called me t' pick y'up. Niall was loafin' around too —- wear it you're turnin' blue, pet." He comes back with a swarmy chunky knitted sweater Anne gifted him at his birthday handing it to Y/N and sitting opposite of her pulling Chessie with her wrist into his lap clearing his throat to bring Y/N's attention back from eyeing the socks on the floor. Her eyes flicker between them chest tightening at the love and glow that radiates from Harry when he looks at her.

No. She's not jealous. Mightyyyy bit yeah –- cause she could never be this lucky to have someone as Harry. He's the most caring towards her since ten years been her compass to the home she wanted, her anchor saving her from sinking and the sixth sense of a blind to her. In fact she thinks he's her soulmate and not every soulmates needs to be romantically involved some could watch them growing beautiful in love. Y/N's doing it. Admiring the maturity of his life with the person that truly makes him enough---or she thinks so.

"How was ye'r meditation class?" Harry asks (she took a semester off as she was unable to haul the burden'; Harry convinced her how her health should be her first priority) breaking a cookie in two giving half of it to Chessie who thanks him with a kiss in return, "Was good been feelin' great!" She chirps pulling the sleeves of the sweater that's drenched in cinnamon vanilla-y smell with lingers of what comes of as Chessie's scent. She assumes they cuddled shit loads.

To subside the gnaw in her brain down she finally asks the question pointing at the sock that nobody gave a heed to pick up, they stop chewing looking at eachother to come up with something. Chessie's face distressed knowing Harry wouldn't hide it from Y/N. He tells her everything and sometimes it could be too personal to share.

"Erm. . I bought 'em — 'cos. . " Harry stammers and Y/N smacks her hand atop her mouth avoiding from giving a shocked reaction, "Oh my goodness ye' guys are pregnant!?" It was enough to make Chessie flinch and hike down Harry's lap.

"No! 'S not what ye'r thinkin'." He shakes his head making Y/N confused. "Then you bought it fo' your fingers? Cause that's the only body part it could fit." She teases him to break through the insight tension around and he chuckles shaking his head grabbing Chessie's hand rubbing her knuckles how he used to when Y/N's anxious and over the edge.

"We want to have a family." His words low as he looks at Chessie but she shrugs in return as 'in it is what it is'. Y/N stomach twisted at that. The thought that one day He's gonna have a family of his own and the little bubble that Y/N would be privy to made her throat dry. Because she has no-one despite Harry and he deserves the whole world not just baby keeping Y/N everytime.

"So . .? What's the problem?" She raises her brows looking between them noticing Harry's fingers fiddle with the flower tea mats, "There are complications from Chessie's side." Chessie sighs in disappointment and Y/N ponders over the idea, clocks working and spindling wildly in her mind.

"I could do that for you guys — since I took a semester off --–" She puts the offer nervously and both of their jaws went slack Harry with an adoring grin while Chessie in hitting shock. "--Erm we could go through a traditional surrogacy."

"Are you sure?" Chessie asks squeezing her shoulder and Y/N nodded taking both of their hands, "Anything for ye' guys!" Harry's eyes glossing over and he leaves his spot sprawling his arms calling for her, "Gimme a hug pet. Life saver ye're - we're gonna take care of ye." They group hug tightly and excitedly.

Sometimes actions could speak much more than words because the lies that words hold could ruin the great bondages.

. . .

They went through the medical procedure two days after Her, Harry and Chessie being guided by their acquired doc. She was nervous and sweaty but Harry's presence beside her soothed out any negativity that was building inside her brain. By womb the babies would be Harry's and Y/N but legally Chessie's and Harry. She's just wishing that everything goes alright cause that happiness of them is million worthy to her.

People might call her stupid and brainless for going through sickness, crankiness, back pains and the pain during labour just to give those babies to someone else (she's too afraid to call them her's cause she knows her emotional attachments could be very destructive) but she loves Harry and love makes you do those thingies.

At the moment she's on the toilet seat eyes bolted shut counting threes with the pregnancy test in her wavering fingers. "Please it better work." A squeal of surprise leaves her lungs when her eyes fell over the two positive lines quickly dragging her panties over she tumbled outside where everyone's waiting for her.

"You guys are pregnant!!" Sounds dumb right? She announces loudly. Harry's and Chessie's heads perked up while everyone cheered beers spilling from the rims. She flashed grins to each one of them splitting her gaze away from Harry giving Chessie a celebratory kiss.

"Thank you. Oh my god, love! Can't belive it." Harry held her from shoulders giving her a toothy smile and it puts her off that Chessie didn't say anything just a nod along Harry. "Me too." She breathes out as he leads her to sofa sitting her cautiously. "We'll visit the doctor tommorrow." He reassures popping his head from Sarah's neck as she hugged him tight.

"We're gonna have a little Y/N and Harry running and pooping it's nappies soon." Everyone went silent. A grimace on Y/N and Chessie's face. Niall doesn't know when to shut up does he? Y/N's gonna strangle him alive. Harry laughed out aloud not caring about the thick tension in room, "I'll rip ye'r hair if you'll turn me baby into a golf freak Niall." His baby.

Niall raises his hands in defence, "No guarantees Harold."

. . .

They had a check-up and Y/N indeed's pregnant. Harry's over the moon. Kissing her forehead. Thanking her for millionth time – to the point she told him to let her watch telly in peace and shut up. Chessie bringing her organic vegan dishes that Y/N isn't a fan of but eats nevertheless under Harry's stern gaze. "'S not about them only I want ye' to be healthy too, pet. Can't be selfish now can I?" He'd insist.

When she'd be sick he'd be at her side giving her back rubs while Chessie stood at the doorframe of washroom. Y/N thinks since she's pregnant her womanly instincts has gotten more sharp as she sensed something's off between the pair.

He'd be at her flat early morning waking her up to have a morning walk with him not giving in her grunts and whines. Who'd want to leave their crispy warm bed to just be out in the cold? A fool like Harry only. Making her brekkie afterwards as a reward giggling and massaging her shoulders when she'd gobble down food like a greedy squirrel, "Easy there love. 'S all yours."

Chessie's back at LA. They had a small argument because Harry wants her to be participating in all of this as much as he's. But, her priorities are not set for this. They never were.

Y/N was at Harry's place nibbling onto chocolate cupcakes Anne sent specifically for her with a note ("my grandchild shouldn't be privy to their Nana's bakin' skills all my love to Y/N." along a winky smiley) when she spilled cold milk all over her nooked tee-shirt. Harry gave her his clothes to change into and baby wipes but she warded him with a scoff that water exists. She has become more feisty with each passing day.

Was discarding the tee when her gaze fell over the sveltest of bump in the mirror taking her breath away. It makes her realize it's all real. She never touches her belly in fear if she'd she will never stop. Now, when the pads of her fingers skim alongs the skin it strips shivers down her spine. She always wanted this. Not in this scenario though. Shaking her head of the thoughts she slips Harry's hoodie over it climbing down the stairs and it causes Harry to snap his head in alert. He stops chopping the carrots spinning to see Y/N standing feet away from him.

"My baby bump's showing." Her voice almost a whisper and it widens Harry's pupils as his hands fell in air midway between them hesitant to reach her, "Can I see?" She bobs her head shyly cheeks blazing red while revealing the bump for Harry to see. It's not like he hasn't seen her before. He has. But, this's more intimate than all of that. It made him fall on his knees. He's a sensitive person in general. Pure from heart but during this period it seems like he's pregnant not Y/N which's quite amusing too.

"She's beautiful." His gaze full of adoration. "She?" Y/N furrows her brow with a smile. He bobbed his head with a grin, "Think so our baby's gonna be she." Now that's the problem cause Y/N doesn't know which ours he's talking about.

"My pregnancy instincts says it's he." He scoffs, "Bet!?" She rolls her eyes forwarding her fist to do the hand shake they do while betting, "If you loose your pink macbook gonna be mine." They solid the deal with their traditional shake.

"Can I touch it?" Harry's asks politely. When she gives him permission he spreads his warm palms flat against her tummy tongue tied with the affection boozing in his veins for the baby that's not out in the world yet. Y/N eyes flutters and her fingers twitches by her sides from carding them into his hair. This's wrong she scolds herself. Her hormones all over the place.

"You wanna send a picture to Chessie?" At this his lips thinned and he gave her a curt nod standing up to fetch his phone, "Sure. But she might be busy..." on the verge of spitting his words in vile.

. . .

Y/N was reading a crime mystery book. Stroking the side of her baby bump carelessly. Cosy in her blanket hoodie telly murmuring in the distance. "Your dad's taste in books is shit, innit?" She peers down with a smile. It's the first time she's talking to them. "We'll read loads of good books together so that when you'll grow up – I could know what to gift you on Christmas." She tries to grab more popcorns from the bowl but it's empty. "Wanna be best aunt out there!!"

"Will you miss me? As much as I'll when we'll be separated?" Tears well up at her waterline. She huffs through her nose running her hand down her belly several times. It's coming; the breakdown she was toiling for days. "I know it sucks I cant be your mommy." Her cravings kicking in and all she want's a strawberry oreo icecream.

"Oh no. Seriously? I'm sad and ye' lil bean want an ice? Let's call your daddy and see what he got." She rings him and he picks up on the third one. Voice groggy from the sleep. She wants to feel bad but she isn't when all her taste buds could think of is strawberry flavour.

"'M cravin' strawberry ice-cream bad. . . Is it possible for ya to bring one?" He's already throwing duvets off his body reaching for his phone and wallet, "No worries pet I'll be there in tick."

"What the fuck Harry? It's three in the mornin'." Chessie groaned from beside him throwing pillow at her face. "We already stored her fridge with alot of food — " She squints about to change the side.

"She's carrying a baby for us Chess. Ye should know better since ya didn't wanted to." She sits up like bullet folding her arms against her chest.

"Thank you for throwing it at my face, H." He doesn't even spare her a glance walking outside and Chessie wants to scream at the top of her lungs. Why did she even agreed to this?

. . .

When he bought her ice-cream she throws herself in his arms kissing his cheek and he giggled in return feeling good when her bump pressed against him. They ate ice-cream with a bantering mess discussing names of the babies, the one that Chessie and Harry decided, him telling her about the little onesies they bought hearing that Y/N stood up taking out a little bag from the chests of drawers.

"I hope you wouldn't mind." She mutters showing him the lil knitted gloves and Harry slid his palm above her's wrapping them snugly, "I don't want ye' to think ya can't love on 'em 'cos after all it's ye'r womb they belong too." Her lip wobbles at his words and she stuffs her face against his chest fisting the hem. It fred away butterflies inside Harry. He sucka his lip. He shouldn't be acting like this. He has a girlfriend that he's gonna have a baby with. They're happy or atleast he thinks so.

They've been bestfriend for years and those feelings never drowned him. Is it because now she's having his babies? Maybe? Harry tries to convince himself.

When he looks down Y/N's drooling onto his shirt deep into slumber. He pecks her hair slipping his arms under her to hold her firmly against his chest. Laying her on the bed tucking her under blankets.

. . .

It sounds like multiple thuds as doctor hovered the ultrasound device over her gelled cover belly. Her belly growing way faster than it should. Her gaze glued at the ceiling fingers crossed. Harry and Chessie holding hands tight gazes fixed at the screen both of them confused at the disoriented image. They all were on the edge of their seats waiting for their turns. Y/N wished that someone could give her a huge warm hug to soothe her nerves down. But, in the first place she shouldn't be worried about the gender as it's none of concern but theirs. It's getting hard day by day.

"It's twins!" Doctor announces chirply getting a wave of silence in return. But, soon the room filled with happy giggles and gasps of Harry as he went to hug Chessie who's expressionless from shock. Y/N pouts wishing it was her. Smiling at doctor when she squeezed her hand in consolation. She's frightened though. How could she deliver two babies? To deal with the roughness that comes along them? Gonna be pretty hectic.

"We hit a jackpot, innit?" He grins down at her kissing Chessie's cheek last time before leaning down to hug her. "Gonna be super carin' with ye' now." Y/N gives a pat to his back in return awkwardly eyeing as Chessie left the room hastily.

. . .

It rakes against the wood harshly as Chessie glided keys of Harry's house towards him without a word. He puts the baby guide book aside arching his brow, "I can't do this anymore. I want an out." Dread. Seeping down Harry's bones.

Guarding himself down he grits, "What do ya mean you want an out? We agreed with full consent of yours Chessie." She shakes her head furiously.

"I didn't sign up for two of 'em Harry I could barely be there for one!!" He puts his elbows on his knees head lowering, "But you wanted to have a family with me didn't ye'?" His eyes tearing and she throws her head back in annoyance finding it difficult to make him understand.

"No. No – No. You wanted a family! Because of your continuous protests I gave in. Told you I wasn't ready for all of this bullshit now we are here." She emphasises. Harry stands up from his seat towering her pointing a finger at her.

He's rageous. Could burn this house down. How could she be so mean? Cowarding back at the last moment.

"Don't call it bullshit." He spits full of venom for the woman he mighty love and she snaps her head other way, "Congrats she finally ruined us and couldn't be more happy – now that she's having your mother fuckin' babies." He stumbles back knocking the coffee table lungs congesting.

"Don't drag her in all of this she's innocent." She laughs ironically looking him square in eyes yelling like a maniac, "Gave her your sperms now you can't hold back from fucking her. I knew it. You were fucking her behind my back weren't you?" She thinks of him like that? A cheater? He loved her and she always thought he was cheating her.

"Don't yell. I don't want to see ye'r cruel face when I come back home." He tries not to croak mustering strength to walk away from her. Exposing himslef to freezing weather locking himself in his car and crying his heart out. Sky crying along him. He punches the steering wheel brutally shouting "why's?" Head falling atlast as he thought of all his dreams shattering at his feet.

She caged him instead of giving him shelter. Replaced the butterflies he used to get from her with a burning hell in his pit, should've been mother of his children now she's just an ex.

The excruciating part is how he's gonna tell Y/N about this? She'll be crushed.

. . .

"Oh my god . . ." It was the roar of thunder that startled her but something else took her attention away. That tinsy kick protruding the taught skin of her belly, ". . . which one of you?" She was extra happy today. It's swimming in her head. It's just a thought but sharing it with Harry wouldn't kill someone. She wanna ask him if she could've one of the babies. It's just she's too much into the moment that she forgot she still have a degree to complete. A career to pursue and a life she always wanted.

When there's a knock at door she tries to stand up with the support of armrest a hand on her back. A gasp falling from her mouth at the sight of Harry's clothes soaked and another when he looks up with bloodshot eyes. Tears dried cheeks and heaving chest seeming utterly devastated.

"Pet what happened!?" She grabs him from elbow pulling him inside and he falls onto his knees smashing his cheeks against her showing tummy -- a sob recking through him, "Harry you're scarin' me. Tell me what happened is everything okay?"

"Chessie don't want these babies - sh-she didn't wanna ruin her career but atlast agreed . . . n-n now she doesn't want 'em 'n wants an out." He stutters. White noise deafening Y/N's ears and she steps back with expressions as if she's scared. Horrified of the future.

"It means she never had complications? She just didn't wanted her body to go through all of this." When Harry didn't fill in to her inquiry she flopped onto sofa from the shock shoving her face into her palms giving out a cry of hurt at her stupidity.

"God. I'm such an idiot!" He shakes his head crawling towards her with sad eyes and lil hiccups, "No please don'tcha say that. We'll figure it out yeah? Never wanted this t'happen." God. How bad he wants her to assure him that it'll be alright.

"You'll figure out what, huh!? Leaving them just like she did!?" Swear Harry felt a dagger jabbing it's way into his heart more upsetting tears spilling down his throat. "I hate you guys. They're none of your babies from now on. . ."

"Leave." She orders him wiping her tears roughly with the sleeve of her jumper. Running out of breath with each sniffle. Raises her hand stopping him to step forward and protest, "I said leave before I make you!!" He nods inhaling breath of remorse looking at the ceiling for a second then to her.

"Before, that want ya t'know. I still want 'em. They're mine. How could I not? love 'em. Hope ya'll forgive me." Then it's just sobs of Y/N taking over the buzz of telly as the door ticks. He didn't leave though. He's too afraid to. His back sliding against her door knees closing against his chest letting it all dawn upon him. His green luscious orbs hooding with sadness and the fluff of his curls.

Dunno if Y/N would be able to forgive him.

. . .

He woke up to a boot nudging to his thigh squinting up to find Niall stating down at him with consoling eyes. Poor Harry slept in the hallway. His neck sore and limbs stoned.

"Heard it 'lad. Was suspicious with Chessie long way." He helps Harry stand up patting his shoulders, "Y/N called ye'?" He grogs rubbing his eye with knuckles. When Niall confirms he quips with pleading eyes in a low whisper knowing he'll get his hair ripped if that furious little mama bunny will find him outside.

"Ye' think she'll forgive meh?" Niall chuckles to light up the situation, "'course H. Do ya think our pet's that ruthel—" He bites his tongue. Harry's gaze following the snap of his neck when the door opened revealing Y/N in a lilac chunky sweater. Puffy eyes and swollen lips. Harry feeling like a dickhead at her condition. It's all his fault. Then their eyes fall at the piping hot cuppa of tea in her hand.

With a stoic face she hands it to Harry and pulls Niall inside slamming the door at curly boy's face. So, she knew he was there sharing a door with her the whole night.

. . .

"Isn't it a good thing thou, love?" Niall smiles. He's chill in all of this. Watching it unwrap. They were meant for eachother Niall thinks so, "You wanted one of 'em and ended up havin' a whole bean can." She groans throwing her peach plushie at his chest. A smile swirming up her lips at his silly statement now that she's more stable less sad.

"You're the absolute worst, Ni!" He holds her cold hands tugging her close to make her look, "Want ya to forgive H. He did nothin' wrong, pet." When she pouts ruffling the silk strands of her rug with her feet he grabs her chin.

"Remember how happy he was? Don't go mad on him yeah?" She bobs her head not meeting his gaze. Meanwhile, there's knock at the door and Niall takes it laughing to himself softly at the box of doughnuts with a note.

"What is it?" He's already flopping beside her hooking his nimble finger around the white doughnut with rainbow sprinkles, "If I'd have known pregnant ladies gets treated this way. Would be havin' one baby every year." She smacks him in belly and unlatches the note reading it with a sucked lip.

Ye'r antenatal class's tommorrow. Don't forget to take ye vitamins :)

How gentle, calm and optimistic Harry could be needles her some.

. . .

Harry's waiting for her in the car fiddling with the radio. He isn't gonna lie. He's been going through a heartbreak. To cope with it he wants to accompany Y/N in her parent craft classes. When she waddles towards his car cosied up in a yellow baggy sweater and a cardigan Harry remembers she stole from him ages ago he mighty scrunched his nose in adoration at her cuteness.

Her nose pink and cheeks flushing as she slips into her seat, "Can you stop bringin' me stuff. I know how to take care of myself." She nips at him when he forwards her a kale smoothie. He doesn't seem to mind. Both, of them knows very well she's trying to avoid drinking it. She finds it yucky!

"Wanna take care of ya'll is all." He mumbles putting it in her side's cup holder. Ya'll .She regrets it instantly. Damn his puppy eyes!

. . .

"Mr. Styles and . . . Miss Y/N." The instructor calls them and they both raises their hand awkwardly as if in elementary school. "You're the parents of twin right?" She asks. Y/N wanted to say that their supposed to be parent ran off from the fear. But, she couldn't. Could never. It'll be like rubbing salt to his wounds. Bestfriends don't do that shit even in their most anger.

"Yes." She confirms. When Harry didn't. Scared if he might say something wrong. "Ok then! Lay your mats n' have a seat." Harry guides her with the little of his hand on her back. Her shoulder nudging his taut chest, and goosebumps pimples at her skin when his fingers brushes the side of her belly as he helps her sit down.

She takes an all rounder of the room and none of the parents looks like they're here to prepare for war unlike them. She shyly waves at the two mothers beside her and Harry twinges his lip equally flustered as her.

They start with relaxation and breathing exercises. Telling Y/N to let herself loose in Harry's arms. She fumbles with the hem of her sweater when his fingers gingerly winked at her sides and the lull of his breath hit her earlobe.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor. "Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. He hates her hormones little bitches.

It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them.

. . .

"Are you hungry?" He asks turning the heat on knowing how cold her feet could get in the span of seconds. She huffs trying to buckle her belt and it squirms a fond smile out of him at her cute effort to be put in place due to her bump. If he'd coo. She'd rip him into tiny bits. It's better if he gazes away.

"Does it mean emptying your pocket?" She arches her brow sinking into her seat. "Bitso. . " He chuckles softly drumming at the steering wheel.

"Then I'd love to." She adds with a smirk. Clasping her hands atop her heart outta excitement. It makes him shake his poof of hickorey curls at her silliness.

They end up taking a takeout of onion loaded cheese burgers. Greasy fries. An iced-tea and a box of cookies from Babara's shop a block away from Harry's house.

"Wanna choose fo' ye'rself?" He asked her before going inside and she denied with a worried expression. Not knowing how she'll explain all of this to Babara who's her one of the good friends from UNI. Harry respects that. If she isn't ready to talk about it he isn't gonna pressurize her. They've been dodging the serious talk since she let him take to parental classes. Knows one day or another they've to decide how it's all gonna work.

. . .

Good food can make you more high than actual drugs. Licking their fingers off now they feel all sleepy and lazy sitting on the comfortable sofa watching telly with hooded eyes.

Harry's cheek smushed adorably against her baby bump ears tuned into what his babies are talking about.

"You know what? 'S not about winners or loosers. Bu' I won." She bubble hiccups slumping deeper with sugar rush hitting her. "Huh? Harry mumbles eyes drooping. The cotton balls of snowflakes glittering outside, collecting at the window and foging them up.

"I get to have babies of my bestfriend and this nice foodddd — 'n what did Chessie got? No babies and no happy feeling of being their mother." Harry shots up from his snooze blinking up at her and she quickly takes it back regret eating her alive, "'m sorry it slipped."

"No!!" He almost shouts cupping her cheeks making her look at him. His dimples deeps that someone could scoop them like an ice-cream. He gives her an eskimo kiss that makes her veins run with glittery blood.

"I wan' ye' to be the mother of me babies." No hesitation. No dithering. Just him asking for the tinsy bit of her heart. For her forgiveness. For the love they've kept blind eye for years. "We'll figure this out, yeah?" He murmurs their lips brushing and breaths kissing. Pulling back with a forehead kiss.

She lives for forehead kisses makes her shallow tin heart explode with glittery firecrackers.

She nods to give him the affirmation that she wants what he wants.

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jungc6ck · 3 years

Text

Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1

🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader

💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst

🔥 Rating: R (18+)

💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.

🔥Word count: 4k

💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)

“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”

Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.

“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.

Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.

“Get up!”

“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.

Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.

“Your parents let me in.”

The only response the boy had was a sigh

“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”

Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.

“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.

Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.

The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.

“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.

“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.

“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”

Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”

Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.

“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.

“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.

“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.

Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.

“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.

He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.

He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.

Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.

Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.

He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.

“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.

“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.

“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.

“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”

“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”

“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”

Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.

As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.

This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.

“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”

Jungkook turned the radio off.

It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.

There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.

He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.

Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.

Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.

In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.

He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.

He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.

His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.

“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.

“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.

He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.

He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.

“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”

He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.

The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.

Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.

“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.

He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.

“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.

A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.

He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.

It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.

Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.

Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.

There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.

Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.

He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.

He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.

His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”

“Who the hell are you?!”

The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.

Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.

Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.

From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.

And then there was silence.

Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.

Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.

Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.

Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.

“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.

Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.

Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.

“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.

“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”

She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.

“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”

He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.

A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.

“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.

“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.

He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.

“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”

Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.

“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.

“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.

“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.

“Tell them I helped.” he urged.

“But you didn’t.”

She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.

In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.

He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?

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barnesbabee · 3 years

Text

𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 - 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂

|| ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ⇜ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - 20 - ɴᴇxᴛ⟿

⟿ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: No sensible person would turn down their boss if they looked good as good as Seonghwa. But maybe they would wish they had…

⟿ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ: CEO!Seonghwa x reader, bestfriend!Yunho x reader || Social Media!AU || no gender specified for the reader

A/N: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: (send me a DM or an ask to be added) @ateezappreciation @shinyddeonghwa @lilithpooped @cloudyyeonnie@yeosangmystar @wooyoung-a @sanisms @mingismoon @lovelyvitamin @anawwyd @annasbannas @im-just-trying-to-survive-man @uglychildd @oddlittlefandomist @hwahomie @jin-neck-shaft @lovelyvitamin @yeosangmystar @skmoonchild @lovelymultiwrites @sunwooyoung

The day was long and silent, and although no one had gotten any sleep, no one could close their eyes for more than a minute. The haunting picture of Yunho's dead body and splattered blood clouding their minds. The only one who hadn't seen the body yet was Jongho, but he was too busy trying to make sure Mingi wouldn't freak out again.

The five of you eventually fell asleep, when your bodies finally calmed down and gave in to the temptation.

You were, however, suddenly awoken by a loud noise of something falling. All of you sat up straight in the living room and looked around. There were only four of you. Mingi.

All of you stood up immediately and began searching the house in a panicked state, calling out for Mingi as you did so.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Seonghwa yelled, after a couple of minutes of looking.

You all ran towards where he was. You found Seonghwa holding a crying Mingi by the arm, in the attic of the house.

"What happened?" You asked.

Seonghwa roughly pushed Mingi towards you all.

"I got here and this dumbass had opened the skylight and was trying to get onto the roof!"

San held Mingi's hand and moved the man to stand behind him, angrily looking at Seonghwa.

"Hey man, take it easy." San advised.

Seonghwa placed his hands on his hips and widened his eyes.

"Take it easy? Take. It. Easy!? There's already a dead body in my fucking house, from a situation that I had nothing to do with, mind you, and I was about to have a second body to bury because of this fool's bad choices. I am helping you idiots out a lot and you're pushing me to the limits, okay!? I have a lot to lose here. I have a company to run and a lot of people that are going to lose jobs if the CEO goes down as an accessory to murder."

There was only silence, as it dawned on the selfish group what they were asking of Seonghwa.

"I'm sorry." San said, not even able to lift up his head and look Seonghwa in the eye.

The latter shook his head and walked away.

"I'm leaving the house. Keep an eye on that douchebag."

The sound of the front door slamming echoed in the house, and all of you felt incredibly embarrassed. Once you got back to the living room, Jongho surprised all of you. He sat Mingi down on the couch and stared down at him.

"I'm tired, Mingi. I really am. You made those two go out into the woods to fetch a dead body, you made them scrub blood off of walls and off the floor, you made Seonghwa, who doesn't even like you by the way, he's doing this for Y/N, hide a body in his house, and you were going to kill yourself!? Are you that much of a fucking coward!? Mingi you're not 16. You're a grown man, you're almost 22, it's about time you start taking accountability for your actions, we can't baby you forever, 'cause it's getting tiring. We're all desperate here, and we have to worry about yourselves, about dead Yunho, and now about an unstable manchild. Focus on the fucking reality Mingi."

Jongho was straight-up yelling by the end of his rant, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets and face red, out of anger. He then stormed off, just like Seonghwa, leaving a very quiet and tense room.

San sighed and sat next to his friend.

"You know, he's right Mingi. Maybe should've worded it better, but you really can't do what you were about to do... You were about to screw us all over when we are risking our lives to help you. This isn't just about you anymore."

Mingi could only nod, and cry, as his aching throat wouldn't allow him to do anything else.

You sighed and stood up.

"I'm... I'm gonna go find Seonghwa, I need to apologize."

You picked up your coat from the coat hanger near the door.

"You know where he is?" San asked.

"I have an idea..."

You were sure he was back at the office. He felt comfortable there, it was a place where he could take his head off of all his worries. Also, he kept his best whiskey in his office... It wasn't very far from his house, but you were impatient, you needed some time alone with him desperately. You showed your pass to the security by the entrance and they let you through, as you hurriedly made your way to the CEO's office.

You could hear two voices chatting from the inside, you didn't quite recognize the other person, but you were pretty sure it was Hongjoong. You knocked on the door softly, ignoring the big 'do not disturb' sign.

"I- Hongjoong what the fuck didn't I ask you to put the sign outside!?" You could hear Seonghwa ask.

You heard his heavy footsteps walk closer to the door and for a second you were afraid, maybe you shouldn't have come...

The door opened slowly before you, however, interrupting your thoughts.

"My apologies but I'm currently- oh it's you baby." Seonghwa pulled you in a big bear hug as soon as he realized who you were.

You hugged him back, a little hesitant with Hongjoong seeing you two acting romantically. Seonghwa realized you were a little stiff and pulled away, then realizing what the discomfort was about once he saw you looking at Hongjoong.

"Oh, I told him... I hope it's fine. He's kind of known from the beginning."

You closed the door behind you and followed Seonghwa into his office, as you looked at Hongjoong with an 'oh really?' look, making him chuckle.

"Well I did try to call dibs on you when you got hired but he got salty about it, and then every time I made a comment about you he'd get mad. I still did it though, I knew something was going on and I wanted him to tell me." Hongjoong explained as he smiled brightly.

"Yeah yeah good times, why don't you tell them about 'wanting to bend them over your desk and making them beg'?"

Hongjoong's head perked up and his eyes widened, as his ears turned bright red.

"Seonghwa what the fuck-" He whispered, feeling a little uncomfortable in the room.

You were a little embarrassed, but also proud.

"It's fine, plus," Seonghwa got up from his chair and stood behind you, grabbing your hips in the process "they like it. They love to hear how they want to get fucked, isn't that right, Y/N?"

You pressed your thighs together and kept your gaze focused on the ground. Seonghwa gripped your jaw and forced you to look at Hongjoong.

"I- I do like to hear that..."

Hongjoong chuckled and got closer to you, inspecting your body from head to toe.

"You're one lucky son of a bitch, Seonghwa..."

Seonghwa rolled his hips against your ass, so you could feel his boner.

"Hmm, I am aren't I..."

You chuckled and decided to take the opportunity. You knew Seonghwa liked to relieve his stress with sex, and you owed him at least this much for helping you out.

"What's so funny, doll?" Seonghwa asked, curious about your chuckle.

"I was just thinking about all the times you called me a filthy whore, when you're the one practically begging to have a threesome with me and your best friend... Who's the whore now?" You teased, knowing you were pushing all the right buttons.

"Ooh, are you gonna let them talk to you like that."

Seonghwa chuckled as he gripped your throat.

"No, I'm not."

He turned you around and pushed your body against a wall, keeping you trapped by his own body.

"You know which buttons to push doll, maybe I'll reward you for that later. But now, you're going to take this cock in that pretty little hole of yours, and then you'll suck off Hongjoong. Wouldn't want him to feel left out, would we?" Seonghwa asked, with a devilish smirk.

"No sir, we would not." You replied, wearing the same smirk.

Seonghwa felt as if he was falling in love with you right there and then, he felt like he finally found the perfect match, but he could leave the sappy shit for later.

The man placed a short, but intense kiss to your lips before gripping your hair and guiding you to kneel in front of Hongjoong.

"Come on baby, show him what you can do, make me proud."

You smirked and looked up at Hongjoong, as you worked in taking off his suit pants. You slipped them off, along with his boxers, and his hard dick nearly slapped you in the face. It wasn't huge but damn was it pretty. You teased him a little, licking a long stripe, from the base to the tip, teasing the head with your tongue, causing him to groan.

"They always like this?"

"Yeah, they like to see me suffer, but it doesn't last long 'cause..." Seonghwa paused and knelt right beside you, pushing your head so Hongjoong's cock would be fully in your mouth "I'm impatient. But they like it rough."

Seonghwa sat on his desk, as he watched his best friend fuck your mouth, slowly. He pumped his cock to the same pace your head moved, and you'd soon start hearing small groans from both men.

"Shit, Y/N, on all fours."

You complied, pulling out of Hongjoong. He groaned at the cold air hitting his member, as he missed your mouth already. Seonghwa knelt behind you, and entered you very slowly. Hongjoong was about to put his dick back in your mouth, but your partner stopped him.

"Y/N, colour?"

"Green, very green."

Seonghwa smiled and slapped your ass lightly, then giving Hongjoong the green light to continue.

You had to hold off your orgasm a couple of times, as the feeling of both men filling you up and the sound of their needy moans was too much to handle.

"Do you wanna cum?" Seonghwa asked, figuring it out from how much you were clenching.

"I'm almost there baby, you can cum, cum for us."

A couple more thrusts and a spank from Seonghwa were all it took to take you over the edge. It didn't take both men much to 'cross the line' either, Hongjoong painting your face with his cum, and Seonghwa your ass. Their moans combined was something you secretly wanted to hear again.

Seonghwa picked you up, bridal style, and looked at you.

"Come on man, I wanted to kiss her." Seonghwa complained, as your lips were stained by Hongjoong's cum.

Hongjoong felt embarrassed, after coming down from the high he wasn't as confident as Seonghwa.

"Are you okay darling?" Your partner asked, brushing your hair away from your face.

You just nodded.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong helped clean you up and both got dressed.

"I guess you should go deal with the... situation."

You looked at Hongjoong with a confused face, as you zipped up your trousers.

"Situation?" You asked.

"Remember when I said I told him everything? I meant everything."

You widened your eyes once you realized what he meant.

"Seonghwa are you insane!?"

"Calm down Y/N, he's not snitching on anyone! Plus I needed to tell someone who was on my side. I was going insane with your friends constantly baying Mingi."

You sighed. You really couldn't be mad at him for it. You hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"You're right... I'm sorry I got you involved at all and thank you."

Seonghwa kissed the top of your head.

"It's fine, let's just get this over with so I can be with you."

Your bid goodbye to a (still) very embarrassed Hongjoong and left, so you could go back home and deal with the drama. You wished you could just take the car and run away, and live by yourselves until it all washed away, but it wasn't that simple. And it was about to get even more complicated.

When you got to the house and opened the door, a weeping Jongho stood over San's limp body.

"What!? What the fuck happened!?" Seonghwa asked as you and him rushed to check on San.

"I- I don't know! I left after you did" He said, hinting at Seonghwa "and when I came back Mingi wasn't here and San was on the ground. He's still breathing but I don't know what happened."

"What!? Why did you leave?" Seonghwa asked.

"Everyone was upset at Mingi for constantly behaving like a child and Jongho yelled at him and told him to stop expecting us to baby him and that he had to take responsibility for his actions, it got too much and Jongho had to leave for some air..." You explained.

"Responsibility for his actions?..." Seonghwa repeated to himself, trying to figure out what happened, and suddenly a sad idea popped into his head.

He ran into the garage, leaving you and Jongho confused, and holding San.

The man came back just as quickly, looking preoccupied and horrified.

"The body is gone."

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