#he can see the future which is how he knows something will happen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

folkloure · 13 hours ago

Text

⭑.ᐟ when johnny falls in love (pt.2)

johnny storm x reader

notes: thank you so much for the love on the first part of this fic! it really, really means the world to me, thank you! <3

warnings: no spoilers for f4 first steps – this fic is set on my pb&jj universe, but so far it’s been much more centered around the f4 family and it can be read as it's own series too. fem!reader. english is not my first language. please don't copy or repost anywhere.

Truth be told, Johnny is a little ashamed to realise that he’s not above begging when it comes to getting to see you again.

“Sue, please!” He kneels by the couch where Sue sits, little Franklin sitting on her knees and curiously looking at his Uncle’s odd behaviour. “I’ll do anything you want! I- I’ll make you a roast for next dinner!”

Ben’s sitting on the other end of the couch, laying back and enjoying seeing Johnny trying to break his sister's morals. “Don’t give in, Susan. We can get a bigger bid from him.”

“I’m not giving in at all!” Sue exclaims, handing Franklin to Ben and walking to the kitchen. She starts opening different cabinets, looking for something. “Johnny, you know I’d love to help you, you know I thought she was lovely even before Sunday dinner. But I just hired the girl. What is she gonna think of me?”

Johnny gets up to follow her in the cabinet hunt, offering her a forced smile, “Maybe she’ll think you like her so much you want her to be in the family?” Sue snorts, gently pushing his face away. “What are we looking for anyway?”

“Popcorn. You’ll make it.”

He sighs. “I’ll stop asking you to pick up my clothes from the laundry?”

“Hey! I’m the one who’s always picking up your clothes!” Ben shouts from the couch.

“I’m babysitting Franklin next time you want to go on a date night with Reed?”

“Sorry to break it to you, buddy, but you’re babysitting whether you want it or not.” Reed says as he walks in, briefly kissing Sue’s cheeks and walking to the couch, sitting next to Ben. “What are we watching tonight?”

“Johnny’s misery, apparently.” Ben whispers, holding back a laugh. Sue looks at them in a grim manner and Reed immediately clears his throat, focusing on doting on his son instead.

She finds the kettle popcorn bag and pushes it to Johnny’s chest. “Sorry, darling. I’m not giving you her number.”

—

Johnny finds himself taking turns between complaining about his sister’s refusal to collaborate on his true love conquest and planning on how to see you again in a way that doesn’t make him look like a psychopath. All he needs is a plan, an excuse, a built-in meet cute, something.

Something turns out to be quite a big thing – getting Ben into helping him.

“Johnny, you understand you’re asking me to go against your sister’s wishes?” He says on the phone, and Johnny cuts in.

“Well, technically, all she said was that she wouldn’t give me her number. Nothing about me actually going there.”

Ben hates technicalities, he knows Johnny is just using it as an excuse to get him to help. But he's a big softie, despite his rough edges, and even though he sighs deeply before saying anything, he agrees on asking Sue to meet him for lunch on Friday.

Ben says they need to discuss the press for a new tech product they’ve been working on — which isn’t a complete lie. It’s just that the press isn’t supposed to happen for the next couple months. Of course, by happenstance, Ben will forget the project papers, and have to ask Johnny to bring the papers in — to the Future Foundation floor, where you work.

Does that mean Johnny will have to pull a few overnights to get the project done in time? Yes, it does. But that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to take.

By Friday afternoon, he shows up on your floor, paperbag in hand containing the documents and 500ml of energy drink flowing in his blood.

The sight of you behind the reception desk is making him giddy, and he’s sure his heart might give out anytime soon. He takes a second to recompose himself before walking to you, fully aware that he has to be in his best behaviour if he wants this to work.

You look up from the appointment book in your hands, a grinning smile splashed on your face, “Johnny Storm.”

“That’d be me.” He mirrors your lazy grin, as if he’s not actually feeling his heart beating on his throat.

“And to what do we, common people of Future Foundation, own the honour of your visit?”

Johnny thinks there’s a little, tiny flirtatious tone in your voice, and god, how he wants to throw these papers at the closest bin and just flirt back. But he’s playing safe rather than sorry, so he swallows his charm and restores back to his professional attitude.

“Uh, I- I’m here to see my sister.”

“Susan doesn’t have any scheduled meetings with you today.”, you say as he watches your eyes scam his face, up and down.

“No, not with me.” He holds the paperbag up so you can see it too. “Ben forgot those papers. He asked me to bring it to them.”

Your eyes squint, like you’re looking for a hint of malice in his words. He just gives you his best, well-rehearsed polite smile, and you slowly grab the phone, still glancing suspiciously at him. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

He gives you some space as you call Sue’s office. It’s all hushed tones and whispered questions until you call his name. “You can go in now. They’re waiting for you.” Johnny just nods at you, and immediately starts walking to Sue’s office.

She opens the door before he can even knock, the wind blowing her blonde hair, “You are unbelievable!”

“I think what you’re trying to say is “Thank you, my darling brother, for bringing me these urgent papers”, no?” He holds the paperbag to her face, and Sue harshly tugs it out of his hands.

“Urgent papers, yeah, okay.” She murmurs in a sarcastic tone, handing the papers to Ben, who’s sitting in an orange chair right before Susan’s desk. He sneakily gives Johnny a thumbs up, to which he just beams. “You’re lucky you could pull this off. Did you even check these documents?”

“Yes, ma’am. Asked Reed to check them too, just to be sure.” He says, leaning closer to her and adding in a smaller voice. “They were all correct, though.”

Sue’s face softens at the little smile Johnny’s showing. It’s hard for her to be annoyed at him, she thinks. Even when he’s acting so stupid, he still finds a way to show how smart he really is. The thought alone makes her feel nothing but the pride of an older sister, who’s watched him grow into such a sharp-willed, warm young man.

“You really are something, you know?” Her mouth tugs up in a smile and she squeezes his shoulder, immediately pushing him towards the door, “Go talk to her and get out of my floor, now.”

Johnny sprints out of the room before Sue can change her mind.

As he walks back to the reception, hands running through his hair and clothes, he watches you talking on the office phone. He waits until you hang up before approaching.

“Hi again, thank you for letting me in.” He leans on the counter, deliberately casual, holding his distance from you. “How’s New York treating you?”

You give him a tight lipped smile, “So good, so far. Mary has been lovely. And Susan, oh, I can’t thank her enough for offering me this job.”

Johnny smiles tenderly at you, this time with no act involved – just a true, gentle smile at the mention of his family. “Aunt Mary says wonders about you. And Sue, she really likes you. Said so since that time you were over for dinner.”

Your eyes twinkle at that. “Your family has been really nice to me.”

“Eh, you know us Storms.” He does an exaggerated shrug, “Got a reputation to take care of.”

“And yet…” your face opens into a big cheshire cat smile at him, a teasing tone taunting your voice, “Yours still precede you.”

Johnny feels his face flushing, all the way up from his neck to his hairline.

He feels a little stupid now, a new blow to his already harmed ego. How could he think he’d just show up and swoon you, when his reputation is something so fresh in your eyes. How could you feel at least a little charmed by him without the conviction that he’s not just playing with your feelings?

The idea of asking you out again feels silly. Instead, Johnny just wants you to know he can be a good man too. That he can be loving like his older sister, or kind like his Aunt Mary. Wants you to know that he was raised by both these women and maybe, surely, something good must have rubbed off on him too.

“Um, about that…” He clears his throat, unsure how to go from here. “I was sort of hoping we could maybe start things over?”

You, to your credit, immediately notice the lack of tease in his voice and your smile falters, “What do you mean?”

What does he mean, really?

He wants you to like him, of course he does. But more than that, he wants you to know him first. To completely break the pre-conceived idea you have of him down and build it all over again — a better one this time. He thinks honesty might be a good way to start.

“I’m just not sure I like the image you have of me.”

Your shoulders drop, “Johnny, I told you already, I really think you’re a nice guy–”

“Yeah, well, that’s not enough.” You widen your eyes, and he does too, at his sudden boldness. “I mean, I just think… I think you think you know me, but you don’t.”

You shift in your chair, clearly caught off guard.

“And I’d like to have the opportunity to change that.”

Your eyes drop down to your own hands, fidgeting with your nails, “Johnny…”

Before you can say anything, he clarifies. “I’m not asking you on a date. I mean, I did ask you out that Sunday at Sue’s”, he chuckles softly, and you do too, which fills him with a newfound confidence that he’s doing something right, at last.

“I just want to get to know you, and I want you to know me too. That 's all.” He smiles at you, his ever so hopeful side taking over his features.

You look up at him like you’re in disbelief, the shadow of a smile lingering. “You… you really are something else, Johnny.”

“I’m hoping that’s a good thing?”

“It’s… something.” He gives you a lopsided smile, your teasing tone back, except this time much tender.

Johnny thinks you’re looking at him like you’re pondering how to match his honesty without throwing in the towel that maybe you’re gonna say yes. Before you can say anything, the phone on your desk starts ringing.

You look at the ID Reader and sigh. “I- I have to get this.” When you look back at him, there’s a small apologetic grin decorating your face, “I’ll see you around, Johnny.”

You pick up the phone and give him a tiny, final nod. He nods back and turns around, walking towards the revolving door.

Johnny tries to keep his composure and just walk – not look back, not look at you again.

But it’s stronger than him, really – a tale as old as time, seen before in all kinds of stories, from Orpheus in the Underworld to Johnny Storm in the Future Foundation floor.

He looks back at you.

You’ve turned back to his direction, phone in your ear, eyes on his face now. He recognises on your expression something he often sees in himself: a wonder in the face of possibility. A burning for what might be yet to come.

As he walks out, he does a 180º on the revolving door so he can face you again and offers you a wave, like you did that very first night. A smile goes from ear to ear on your distant face, and you wave back.

Johnny’s on his way home when a text from an unknown number pops up in his phone. He finds that, like the effect of an instant potion, there’s fire in his heart again.

notes: there will be more parts to this — at least 2 more, i think. thank you for reading <3

taglist: @lunarislector @sourmooonlight @leslieelaine @overthebriarpatch @elfypineapple @nngkay @nina357 @simonella-time @pursuedbyamemoryy @inkedeye2345 @spideywebsss, @jawhrrockss - thank you! let me know if i missed your @ or if you're interested in joining the taglist! <3

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm fanfic #johnny storm #fantastic four first steps #fantastic four #fantastic 4 #f4 #fantastic four fanfiction #fantastic four fanfic #johnny storm x you #johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm blurb #pb&jj #pbjj

201 notes · View notes

seitmai · 3 days ago

Text

Many thoughts

You stared up at the ceiling as you soaked in the tub. It felt like you were screaming in your head, but the volume was turned down to the point where you couldn’t even hear yourself. You weren’t sure if you were still angry from Bucky breaking ties with your parents or if you were resolute in what would happen going forward. Or maybe you were still tired from everything.

Probably both tbh

Natasha’s face shimmered in your mind since you now had some unexpected time off. “Self defense lessons later this week? Please and thanks. I hope you’re doing okay.”

She's a gem 🫰🏻

You wondered if you should tell her about your plans to help other women. Bucky gave you the green light and wanted to help how he could, but she would have insight and perspective that he didn’t. Would he be jealous if you sought out her opinion? Too bad if he did. This project would be yours with your rules.

Period 👏🏻

You felt his penetrating gaze. He wanted to see you, touch you. “Bucky, what if I never sleep with you? Would you still want me in your life?” you asked curiously. His obsession ran deep and he said he would never force you, but what if you never gave in? What then? A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Yes, I would.”

Oh 👀

He nodded slowly. “I haven't made it a secret that I want you physically. I dream of all the ways I’ll make you say my name and I think of how perfect you'll feel when I'm inside you. The thought of having you haunts my every waking moment in the best way,” he answered, your breath hitching when he crossed the distance to you. “But I want your heart and love. That’s what I want the most.”

That is actually really sweet

Because love wasn't easy or a passive feeling. It was a choice. Love was about choosing someone over and over, even when it was difficult. As he chose you, didn't he realize you had to choose him in return?

I guess we will see what will happen in the future

Your hands shook when you selected the undergarments. You had to admit they were sexy and would look good on you, which was exactly what you wanted. He’d be on his knees begging for a glimpse while you’d be lost in the world of friendship and letting loose.

🙂‍↕️👏🏻

“You said you’d never make me give up work,” you reminded him, and you wouldn’t. “I only asked because if your new passion project takes off it may take a lot of your time and energy,” he said softly. “You’re worried that doing both will take my time away from you,” you guessed. He’d want your attention too much and wouldn’t want to share with everyone else.

She instantly clocked it

He chuckled. “We’ll make time for each other. Meals together, dates, talking to each other in bed before we go to sleep,” he said. He made it sound like a dream. “Time isn't the issue. I don’t want you spread too thin.”

Of course he puts it in a sweet and caring way

“Will you really let me dance with you if I behave?” he asked, sounding strained. He wanted your love and heart, but it had to be pure agony having you just out of his reach.

Someone has to put him in his place sometimes 🤷🏻‍♀️

You met his eyes in the mirror when he came up behind you and slipped the necklace on. Elegant, expensive. “Yes, I am,” you said. The second she saw you at the club, even when you’d smile, she’d sense something was off. She was your best friend and knew you too well. You owed it to her and yourself to give her at least a part of the truth of your life. “There’s already enough secrets and I don’t need to carry one more.” Even then, you couldn’t tell her what happened to your attacker since you still didn’t know.

She is so realy for that! Also not telling your bestie? Yeah right, he can kiss her goodbye right then and there

His lips parted, but he didn’t look too surprised. “I imagine she’ll want to speak with me,” he said, his fingers moving along your skin. That gave you a reason to pause. How would Bucky react when faced with her? “She will,” you agreed. She wouldn’t just want to, she’d insist. “Because she cares about me.” If the roles were reversed, you’d demand to speak to Brady and make sure Addison was safe and cared for.

That's just the true best friends actually, seems like Bucky doesnt know a lot about that 👀

There was a crack in his expression. “It isn’t a contest, but I still feel like I’ve won because I have you.” He didn’t say it like you were a prize, but you felt like a shiny trophy anyway. “You won because you rigged the system in your favor,” you said.

“I would’ve given it to you and would’ve looked forward to hearing from you,” you told him, his head lifting to gaze at you. “But that’s not what happened,” you whispered. As much as you wish things would’ve worked out that way, that wasn’t your reality.

One hit after the other, she's on fire lol👏🏻

“Your friends arrived,” Bucky said, chuckling at his phone as you checked yours. Bucky had wanted you to arrive minutes after them, maybe so he could have a bit more time with you to himself. “And apparently Dana asked if Hal could be their personal bartender.” You didn’t mean to laugh, but it came out anyway. You had a feeling Hal would eat that up. Not to mention Dana was harmless since she’d never cheat. She just appreciated a good looking man when she saw one. “Since I’m in charge tonight, I’d love for Hal to be our personal bartender.”

Hahah what a start to the evening

You tugged the strands and received a pleased groan in response. “You will not dock his pay,” you said. Bucky said he gave Hal a raise after the John incident, but you weren’t sure what his paycheck was and you understood the struggle of budgeting and being careful with your funds.

She's so right for this 👏🏻 I have a feeling Buclys employees might like her a lot more than Bucky real soon, because his temper is a liability as a boss in a workspace lol

Curtis didn’t flinch, but something passed over his eyes. You felt the need to defend him because Bucky’s hands were far from clean and it wasn’t his story to tell. “My blood isn’t on his hands and that’s what matters, so leave him alone.” The silence that followed cut like a knife. Curtis’s exhale was audible, shaky, but he gave you a single nod. One of respect and thanks.

“Curtis? You’ll stay close, right?” you called out when the partition rolled down. You put a hand on Bucky’s thigh when he growled and tried not to feel worried that he may fire him. Did Bucky fire people or did he make them disappear?

Valid question

Love her bond and alliance with Curtis!

Hold You Tight - Part 29

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 28 | Series Masterlist | Part 30

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4k

Chapter Summary: You have a heart-to-heart with Bucky before going to the club, and you hope he keeps his word.

Chapter Warnings: Kissing, jealousy, tension, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It didn’t make sense. You should’ve been happy since tonight was going to be a night to take back control, something you desperately wanted. So why weren’t you smiling? Why weren’t you holding yourself high since Bucky agreed to your terms? Was the apprehension from the fact that the night was young and he hadn’t proven anything yet? The only thing he continued to prove was that he wasn’t letting you go, and he would hurt or destroy anyone who disrespected you… except for himself.

You dragged yourself from the tub after a while and checked your phone. A smile crossed your face when you saw how excited the girls were to go to the club. This night wasn’t just about you, but them, too. “The family I chose,” you whispered. The family you’d do anything to protect.

You frowned when you saw a message from Mrs. Crandle. “I know you're going through some things, so I arranged for you to have the week off. Don't worry about pay or your schedule. I have it sorted. You just let me know if you need anything.”

Your heart sank. A whole week off? You had the money, thankfully, but you wanted to do your job. You appreciated that she was looking out for you the way a good boss should. “Thank you so much. I’ll reach out if I need anything.”

Natasha’s face shimmered in your mind since you now had some unexpected time off. “Self defense lessons later this week? Please and thanks. I hope you’re doing okay.”

“Barnes said you’d be reaching out. Send me your schedule and we’ll set up a time. And don’t worry about my well-being. I’m more concerned about you. Take care of yourself.”

You sighed, not wanting her to worry about you either. You had enough to think about. Lois, arranging the flowers for Bucky’s mom, Thor's party, the double date with Steve, the wedding, and-

“Enjoy your bath?”

You were lucky you didn't drop your phone or fall when you spun around to face Bucky. He had a smug smirk on his face as he leaned against the door. “Jesus,” you whispered, tugging the robe tighter around yourself. How long had he been standing there? “I swear you enjoy scaring me.”

“I wasn't trying to scare you. I was just watching you.”

You shivered. Bucky was always watching you in some capacity. “And you were tired of watching and wanted my attention… while I’m naked.”

His eyes flashed with lust. “You're not completely naked since you're wearing a robe.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Yes, I would.”

You didn't blink. “Really?” That wasn't the answer you were expecting.

He looked at your mouth only for a moment before looking into your eyes. You didn't move. Didn't speak. No matter the question, no matter the path, the man was going to choose you every time.

“Will you really keep your distance tonight?” you asked.

You held your breath when his hand went to the tie of your robe, but made no move to undo it. “It’ll be very difficult, but I’m determined to prove my worth to you and that I’m a man of my word,” he replied.

Was that his intention, or was he playing the game of luring you into a false sense of comfort? You hated it. You hated how his manipulations, his gaslighting, made you continue to question every single thing. It wasn't a way to live.

“We both need help,” you whispered.

“What?” he asked, but you shook your head and pulled away. The weight of everything felt heavy once again and you didn't want to face it tonight.

“Nothing. I should get dressed,” you said. Tonight was for fun and reclaiming a part of yourself. Tomorrow you could continue to pick up the pieces of the wreckage.

“Let me help, please,” he said, taking your hand before you could leave. “At the very least, let me put your necklace and shoes on while we talk.”

If he helped you get dressed, there was a chance he may try something. It could be another way to prove his worth and word if he behaved. “You can help with the necklace and shoes.”

He smiled and kissed the top of your hand. “You’ll be the envy of everyone at the club.”

“That’s not the point,” you said, following him to the bedroom. You wondered how far away Curtis and Ray were. “I don’t want people to envy me.” Especially when there was nothing to envy.

He paused to gaze at you. “But they will.”

“Because I’m ‘your girl’,” you said. That made sense if people there knew you were with him.

“Because you’re you and you're beautiful,” he corrected you, staying back while you went into the closet. “I’m not looking.”

“But I know you want to,” you muttered, going through the dresses. You chose a sleek black dress, your heart weeping. A black dress was what you wore the night Bucky first spotted you in his club and led him to carving his twisted path.

“You sure you want to be out late tonight? You have work tomorrow,” Bucky said from outside of the door.

“Mrs. Crandle gave me the week off,” you replied.

“That was kind of her,” he said casually, respectfully. If he had a hand in it, he covered it up well. “Would you ever consider quitting the shop?”

“I only asked because if your new passion project takes off it may take a lot of your time and energy,” he said softly.

“You’re worried that doing both will take my time away from you,” you guessed. He’d want your attention too much and wouldn’t want to share with everyone else.

You almost smiled at his genuine concern. “I’ll be okay. I know my limits,” you said, stepping out once you were dressed.

Bucky blocked your path before you could walk to the vanity. “Fuck,” he whispered, giving you a thorough look. It was the look you predicted he’d have, except hungrier when he attempted to close the difference. You felt powerful and untouchable when you held a hand up to stop him. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“That word,” you whispered. He had you back on the pedestal. He never brought you down from it. “But thank you.”

“Will you really let me dance with you if I behave?” he asked, sounding strained. He wanted your love and heart, but it had to be pure agony having you just out of his reach.

You shrugged and walked around him. “Maybe,” you replied, running a finger along one of the expensive bottles as you sat down. “Depends on how much fun I’m having with my friends.”

How many of Bucky’s men would watch you tonight? At that moment you didn’t care. Let them look. Let them see that you weren’t broken.

He groaned and went to pick out a necklace for you. “You’re going to tell Addison, aren’t you?”

“Tell her what exactly?” you asked, taking a moment to look at your reflection. At least you didn’t look as exhausted as you previously felt.

“About your attack and the fact that you’re living with me now,” he replied.

His lips parted, but he didn’t look too surprised. “I imagine she’ll want to speak with me,” he said, his fingers moving along your skin.

That gave you a reason to pause. How would Bucky react when faced with her? “She will,” you agreed. She wouldn’t just want to, she’d insist. “Because she cares about me.” If the roles were reversed, you’d demand to speak to Brady and make sure Addison was safe and cared for.

“She does care about you.” He maintained eye contact when he leaned down and kissed your neck. “But no one cares about you more than I do,” he said. Sharp. Protective.

“It isn’t a contest,” you whispered.

There was a crack in his expression. “It isn’t a contest, but I still feel like I’ve won because I have you.”

He didn’t say it like you were a prize, but you felt like a shiny trophy anyway. “You won because you rigged the system in your favor,” you said.

His jaw tightened, but his eyes remained soft. “I guess I did,” he said, turning your chair so you were no longer looking in the mirror and dropping to his knees. You remembered the reverse in your old apartment, him on his knees taking your shoes off. It seemed like so long ago. “But I haven’t really won yet since the race isn’t over.”

“What race?”

“To win your heart,” he whispered, grasping your ankle to help put your shoe on. He did so carefully like you were a work of art he was carving with his own hands. “Bookstore.”

You refused to melt under his touch. “Bookstore?” you repeated, confused.

“In another life, I imagine us meeting in a bookstore instead of me doing what I did. I’d walk in, probably having an off day and needing something familiar and comforting, and I’d see you- smiling, beautiful, enough to make my heart stop before it started beating again,” he explained, bringing your foot up to kiss it. You shivered involuntarily. “I’d offer to buy you a book and maybe a treat to go with it. You’d say I didn’t have to do that for you, but I’d insist and you’d thank me before asking me to join you in the cafe area.”

“Us sitting and talking about our favorite books.” You didn’t want to picture it, but you could see it clearly in your mind. Bucky would’ve been dressed down instead of wearing a suit, a blue shirt to go with his eyes. His hair would’ve been a bit of a mess and he’d offer a soft smile when he bought the book. You wouldn’t have been able to resist.

“Yeah,” he smiled sadly, setting your foot down to grab the other. “I wouldn’t have left without getting your number and would’ve tried to wait a reasonable amount of time before reaching out.”

“Our story is… different. Unique. Messy. Because I’m a monster disguised as a king,” he said, kissing your inner ankle. “You said so yourself that I’m a monster.”

You inhaled sharply. “Bucky, I…” How could you argue with that when you had called him that?

“A monster who has you trapped in an expensive tower, refusing to ever let you go, but hoping you’ll still flourish by my side,” he continued, kissing higher and breathing against your skin. You clenched, you ached, you couldn’t help yourself. “Maybe I can never be completely redeemed, but I can be… rewritten. Reshaped.”

You looked down at him, your eyes raw. The silence was tense as he placed another kiss on your skin, this time on your inner thigh. He touched you like he had the right, breathed your name like he owned it. “And what if you can’t?” you asked.

There wasn’t doubt in your tone, but Bucky was surrounded by people who fed the monster within and encouraged him to be the worst version of himself. Curtis and Natasha weren’t as bad as the others as they only gave him scraps and Ray did what he could, but you were the only one who seemed to soothe the beast. Was that power or just an unhealthy reliance?

His mouth didn’t move any higher, but you put your foot to his chest anyway to push him back. “If anyone has the capacity to love a monster, it’s you.”

“You think too much of me,” you said. He asked too much of you, too. “I’m trying to heal,” you added. From Clark, from Bucky, too. All of it.

He didn’t appear deterred. “Thinking too much of you doesn’t mean you won’t love me. And you heal as loudly or quietly as you need to. No one can tell you how to process it, especially me.”

Something in your chest twisted when he got to his feet. “I just wish you didn’t have to crawl into the cracks of my life to bring us here,” you told him. He shouldn’t have had to rearrange your world to get you.

His breath caught when he opened his mouth. “But you crawled into the cracks of my life and made me whole. How can I go back to who I was before that?”

He left, leaving something hollow in his absence. The necklace and dress suddenly felt too tight. You felt like you’d burst out of your skin. You refused because you wouldn’t let yourself shatter. He wouldn’t have control over you.

Not tonight.

The drive to the club passed in quiet solitude. Ray and Curtis hardly spoke a word to you once you left the bedroom, but you felt their focus on you just the same. Bucky didn’t say much either, but he didn’t need to. His presence would linger long after he let you be.

He had given you an olive branch on the way out the door- He set up a visit for you and Lois tomorrow. You hadn’t expected him to arrange it, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew how much you wanted to see with your own eyes what condition she was in. You also wanted to assure her that Clark would never harm her again. Could you do that without revealing Bucky’s hand in it?

You didn’t mean to laugh, but it came out anyway. You had a feeling Hal would eat that up. Not to mention Dana was harmless since she’d never cheat. She just appreciated a good looking man when she saw one. “Since I’m in charge tonight, I’d love for Hal to be our personal bartender.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, but that stopped the moment you ran your fingers through his hair. “Kotyonok, that’s not fair. I know the bastard will flirt with you.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” you teased, watching him close his eyes and breathe deeply. “Hal won’t flirt,” you said, not believing your own lie. “Plus I trust him to take care of my friends and me.”

Hal had defended you when John snapped at you at the bar and took his job seriously. He seemed decent. Well, as decent as anyone working for Bucky could be.

“Fine, but I’m docking his pay if he throws his shirt at you,” he said, a small smirk on his face.

“Fine,” he said again. You were relieved at that. “Only because you said so.”

The bass thrummed through the car when it stopped in front of the club, a living and breathing entity. It was a bit ironic that you were willingly going there to take back control when you wanted nothing to do with the place the first time he brought you there. You had wanted to be invisible, to not be noticed. This time you painted the target on yourself for the man beside you.

Curtis looked behind him and paid Bucky no mind. “I’ll keep handsy guys away if that’s what you’re asking for.”

“Jax and Ari can handle that,” Bucky said, his voice icy.

“And so can Curtis,” you said. What was he jealous of? You were fond of Ray and the reactions were nothing like this. “He’s my bodyguard. Don’t forget that.”

Bucky forced a smile, cruel and bitter. “He may be your bodyguard and I may have been the one to suggest it, but I know he has blood on his hands that won't ever go away.”

The silence that followed cut like a knife. Curtis’s exhale was audible, shaky, but he gave you a single nod. One of respect and thanks.

Bucky’s breath out was shaky, too, but he gazed at you with respect, too, when he turned your face away from your bodyguard. “You’re right,” he whispered, kissing you softly. Not forceful, but certain. Gentle and assured. “I’m sorry I let jealousy get the better of me.”

So he admitted that he's jealous of Curtis. “It’s easier said than done, but there’s nothing to be jealous of,” you said in the space between you. It wasn’t like Curtis wanted you. Even if he did, nothing would come about with him or any other man for that matter. “Trust me.”

His mouth was on yours again, deeper but slow. “I do trust you,” he said once he pulled away. “I just… hate that he gets to be close to you tonight while I’m out of reach.”

Reverence and desire showed in Bucky’s eyes. He wanted so desperately to be in your orbit and he’d be tested once you walked through the doors. “You’ll only be out of reach until I offer my hand,” you said.

He sighed, but nodded. “And I’ll be waiting to take it,” he said, helping you out.

As Bucky led you inside with Curtis not too far behind, the vibrant chaos of the lights, laughter, and sin washed over you. Bucky kept a hand on your lower back, his grip a bit looser than usual. It was almost respectful. Almost.

Jax spotted you immediately and winked. You winked back and walked with purpose, carrying your invisible wounds and previous insecurities like badges of honor. Bucky held himself like a man who had everything. And he did, didn’t he?

“I still can’t meet her yet?” you asked when Bucky swept you past the coat check. Or maybe Steve’s girl had the night off.

“Double date,” he reminded you.

“That’s right,” you muttered. Another piece in the jagged price of his love.

Bucky nodded and smiled at a few people, keeping you tucked in at his side. “Go to your friends,” he encouraged, his lips grazing yours when you faced him. “If they ask why I haven’t stopped by, you can tell them I have business to attend to first.”

You craned your head toward the VIP section and smiled when the girls spotted you and waved excitedly. “And you’ll only join when I say so?” You met Bucky's gaze and a silent challenge passed between you before he smiled.

“You said ‘when’ and not ‘if’,” he said.

You faltered. Did you mean to say that? “Don’t get cocky just yet,” you warned. Depending on how the night went, he may not have a chance. “Keep your word and watch.”

There was reluctant submission from the man who never bowed to anyone. But he nodded, a king ceding his crown and part of his kingdom for the night. “I'll be watching and waiting, Kotyonok,” he promised, his gaze and aura still overwhelming even as he reluctantly released you. “But if anyone touches you, I’ll ruin them. I swear to fucking God, I’ll-”

You cut him off with a tender kiss, like he had done to you in the car earlier that day. His hands found your hips and he moved closer like the pull of gravity, but you turned your head before it could become too heated. Your rules tonight, not his. “If someone tries to touch me, someone will stop it,” you soothed him, pulling out of his grasp.

His fingers twitched, but he didn't reach out to touch you again. “Go,” he breathed, a warning to walk away so he could keep his promise.

There was a sway in your hips as you went to join your friends. You weren’t worried. He'd be your watchful shadow while you reigned.

But shadows had ways of wrapping around the light, and you'd be in his arms before the night was over.

I don't want to spoil things, lovelies, but things may heat up a bit in the next chapter. What do you think will happen? And the blood on Curtis's hands, what is that story? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

399 notes · View notes

towasdandelion · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! Weird request, but I was curious what would happen with each ghoul if you text them that you missed your period, would they freak out, would they be super sweet about it? I love whichever ghoul I'm currently reading about but really love Yuri, jiro, Lyca, towa, Ren, and Subaru if I had to choose!

Okaaaay that's an interesting one for sure (⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠) I wasn't sure how I did with this to be honest as I don't think potential pregnancy is not something to be taken lightly. But I tried my best! I hope you like it (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎

𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

For the purpose of this prompt, let's say this situation takes place a few years into the future.

Like every morning, you and your beloved were having breakfast together. "This time I'll tell him" you think to yourself as you finish your coffee. You clear your throat to gain his attention, saying there's something you'd like to talk about. But just when you're about to elaborate, his phone rings, urging him to come to work immediately. With a small smile you reassure him it's okay, saying you'll talk later. But it looks like his curiosity got the best of him - he texts you during his lunch break. Well, now's your chance!

Yuri is a mix of panic with some professionalism on the side. As he's on his way home to you he's starting to analyze. How could something like that escape his attention? He is your personal doctor after all. Do remind him you're not just one of his patients but also a life partner and he'll snap out of it. So how does he actually feel about the potential pregnancy? Excited, but also very nervous and won't be able to keep his cool until he knows the result. Even if you weren't planning it he would actually be happy if you're actually pregnant.

Nothing escapes Jiro's keen eyes! He had his suspicions already but didn't want to alarm you right away so he decided to just observe. That was until you brought it up yourself. If you do ask him how exactly he knew then be ready for an elaborte answer. He'll speak bluntly about how he had a feeling this might happen the last time he was filling you up and - oh, you're embarassed now? How cute. You can see a hint of smirk on his lips which then melts into a small smile once you leave his side to take the tests. He hopes they come out positive.

Ren should have expected this after last time you two nearly broke the bed... but later on he managed to forget about that "incident", causing for blood to drain from his face when you inform him your period didn't come. Shit, what is he supposed to do? Of course he's going to rush back home to you, but what then? Shit shit shit. He really needs to calm down. The last thing he needs is making you think he's too scared or unwilling to face it. And that is not the truth. He'll get a whole bunch of tests, asking you to do them once you feel ready. Only when you disappear into the bathroom will he pace around nervously. Secretly proud of himself if it does turn out you're pregnant.

Towa is so 100% ready for this. He's giddy and excited the moment you "announce" the absence of your period. You two are having a cute little Dandelion? He can't help but let his imagination run wild as he makes his way back to you. He might get a bit ahead of himself but that's just because he's excited! Quick Dandelion, take the tests already! If you're nervous, you can expect him to tell you all kinds of sweet love stories from outside the bathroom. He's impatient, but he understands how you might be feeling right now. Your well being matters the most.

Subaru is so overwhelmed after your announcement that he could faint! And he actually does... I guess he got a little too excited by the possibility of him becoming a father. Will scold Haku for not covering for him while apologizing to you for his "embarrassing reaction" and making you worry. Very calm once he collects himself but admitting that having a baby is something he yearns for won't come easy to him. It's almost funny really, how he's still all polite and trying not to be imposing even though you've been together for a few years now. Reassures you that no matter what happens, he's never been happier in his life than right now, living his life with you by his side.

Lyca is so taken aback his brain has a hard time processing it. What do you mean your period is gone? He's scared just for a moment, ready to take full "blame" for it! (poor baby) His fear then turns into a wholesome panic. He needs to be by your side right this instant! Is there anything you need, are you alright? He wants to make sure you're okay. Do make sure to call him down a little when he almost breaks the door upon entering your house and urging you to take the tests. He'll wait impatiently and whatever happens, he will be by your side to support you.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker fics #yuri isami x reader #yuri isami #jiro kirisaki x reader #jiro kirisaki #towa otonashi x reader #towa otonashi #ren shiranami x reader #ren shiranami #subaru kagami #subaru kagami x reader #lyca colt x reader #lyca colt

89 notes · View notes

johnconstantinesdick · 1 day ago

Text

I love AUs that make lies or misunderstandings true, so pray consider with me an AU where Laurence IS Emily’s bio dad. Maybe he met Jane after they were both involved in some action and then he finds himself tripping into some good old premarital sex and he can’t even REGRET it because she’s fierce and hard and when she tells him what to do it’s really much easier to just do what she says. (We all know Sub Will is true I trust)

And they keep up a correspondence even while they can’t see eachother often and before Will knows it he’s organizing his plans to court her and introduce her to his mother and—

Jane mentions the pregnancy offhandedly, with a complaint about the back pain this kid is already giving her and it had better be a girl, so help her.

Laurence’s brain fully crashes. Riley has to come check on him after a while and finds him having a nervous breakdown over course charting because now he has to find a way to get to Jane’s covert before she has the baby (“I don’t even know how far along she is, Tom,” he despairs, as if that’s the main point and not the fact that he’s like three seconds away from either commandeering the whole ship or deserting his post.). If he just gets there before the baby comes he can convince her to get married (he has no illusions that he will have to convince her, but he was expecting to be able to have a long and amicable courtship to do so!!!)

Riley manages to convince him to talk to their commanding officer. Everyone is very understanding about needing to make sure the kid that comes is legitimate. Arrangements are made while Laurence is vibrating in the corner. He does manage to have the sense to send word ahead to Jane so he’s not just bursting up to the covert doors and embarrassing her.

Convincing her to marry him is grueling. Jane genuinely doesn’t see the need to, but when he desperately points out that this way the baby will be able to visit his family openly and he’ll be able to provide for her if something should happen to either of them, she does agree—on the condition that he’s not to be Weird About It and try to turn her into a Proper Wife and all that or make her move in with his family or something. And of course if the baby is a girl he’s NOT going to interfere with her becoming Excidium’s captain in the future. Will is like yes okay I will come stay with you at the covert when I’m not on the sea just PLEASE marry me. My mother is already going to be upset that I couldn’t follow the thirty step courting plan we came up with I MUST give her the satisfaction of our at least being married before the babe comes. And Jane is like well thank god I don’t have to deal with a THIRTY STEP COURTING PLAN THEN.

They’re married in short order and Lady Allendale doesn’t chew Will out too much about getting a woman pregnant before they’re married. Excidium is still a bit iffy about this whole marriage thing but he supposes that it at least makes more children more likely.

And Emily is born and Will immediately falls in love. That’s his daughter!! His baby girl!! He goes back to his ship delirious with love.

And now come the complications such as: Will now knows information about the corps that a lot of people would really prefer he not know! They keep the Longwing captains secret for a reason, and here’s this duty bound Navy guy (derogatory) who could very well decide to get overprotective and block Emily’s future inheritance.

So Jane maybe. Doesn’t really tell anyone that it was a Navy man? And Will just kind of. Presents her as employed by the corps, so people assume she’s a maid or a cook on a covert. This is fine. Everything is fine! Whenever Will’s ship docks he gets to visit his impressive wife and wonderful daughter and uh. Their dragon. Um. He’s still getting used to that part.

After the initial panic and Surge of Love passes Will does have to grapple with his own feelings about not only women serving in the army (which tbf he’s been fairly chill about outwardly), but his daughter specifically serving. He compensates for this by teaching her as much about ships as he can. Look he’s getting such a good grade in Treating His Daughter as An Officer, Jane!!

Jane: :\ Will are you trying to poach our daughter for the Navy

Will, who now has the thought in his head of getting to serve beside his kid: …nnnno?

It’s all good natured though, and they continue in that holding pattern for years as Will moves up the ranks and then, well. The Amitie still happens. Will’s name isn’t put in the lots due to his marriage, but the lots never really mattered in the first place. He still harnesses Temeraire. There’s a good deal less initial fear involved, and Will is able to help mock up a better harness from the start, and he knows a little of how deep the bond between a dragon and their captain is. And he does tell Temeraire, quietly, that his wife is a captain to a dragon herself, and his daughter will be glad to meet him. (Emily is, delighted to have not just one aviator parent but two. Temeraire is glad to have her on his crew because he can at least trust that there’s someone else that values Laurence like he does. Also she is very good at washing his scales and curls up on his back while Laurence reads to them, so. He approves of this tiny child.)

Will, king of keeping his mouth shut for propriety’s sake, could mention these facts at any point to anyone else to smooth things over. He does not do this. Why would he. He’s pretty openly treating Emily as his daughter but like. He’s also doing the same with the other runners assigned to him. Probably the first anyone hears about it is because Harcourt is obviously wary of him giving her the proper respect, and so he quietly tries to reassure her.

“My wife serves in the corps, and I would be a dreadful husband if I hadn’t learned to cope with her profession, especially considering my daughter will one day take her spot.”

Harcourt connects several dots and says, a little too loud, “You’re married to a Longwing Captain???”

And everyone is like dude what the fuck why didn’t you mention this WHO are you married to

And Emily, who is present because I’ve decided she’s being a very Underfoot Child to her dad since she hasn’t seen him in a while, just kind of goes, “Uh???” And gestures between them. There is, the other aviators note with alarm, a semblance.

“JANE ROLAND?” Someone says incredulously. “SHE MARRIED A NAVY MAN??”

#I could go on. I really could. and I could make up like thirty different scenarios of the Marriage Secret getting out. but I have already #put quite a lot down here when this was supposed to be a short post!#temeraire #will laurence #jane roland #Emily Roland #Eli rambles

83 notes · View notes

sweetbunpura · 1 day ago

Text

By Proxy... Ch. 2

The end of the school year is upon NRC. With all the overblots taken care of, the last remaining months should go by without much problems… Right?

WC: 928

Ch. 1

Spoilers for the end of book 7 ahead

"Outside of her stress levels, I'm not seeing anything magical based in her body."

Currently, the dorm leaders and their vices along with Crowley at in the infirmary as Chestnut gave Yuu a check up. Yuu was quiet, seemingly trying to grapple with the fact that she had magic.

"No magical injuries? Something that wasn't there before?" Lilia asked.

Chestnut shook his head and took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "How did you learn that she had magic?"

"The Dark Mirror."

"So this is undeniable."

"But, she has no showings that she HAS it." Crowley argued. "Perhaps it was reading Mr. Kingscholar's magic."

"Forgive me for speaking so bluntly, Headmaster." Rook smiled, although Yuu could see that the hunter was anything but happy. "You're quite adamant about Madam Trickster not having magic. Why is that, hm?"

"N-No reason!" Crowley defended himself. "Nothing like this has ever happened! We HAVE to be sure."

"More like if Yuu-rin has magic then you can't take advantage of her anymore." Idia muttered.

"I wish I could tell you more." Chestnut gained everyone's attention. "But you forget, my glasses scan for health." He put his glasses back on. "Although… Ms. Homura, please take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves for me."

"May I ask why you're asking her to disrobe?" Rollo crosses his arms.

"Do you speak for her, Mr. Flamme?" Chestnut stared at him. "I did not take you as a white knight."

"I'm not this supposed 'White Knight'-"

"Rolls, stop it." Yuu took off her jacket and tossed it to Leona, who caught it. "He's checking the overblot scars."

"Excuse me, your what?" Rollo blinked in surprise.

"…Did I not tell you?"

"No, of course you didn't. I knew of the overblots but not the scars that they had left."

"Oops." She rolled up her sleeves. "My bad."

"How can you just brush that off-"

"Oh… there are NO scars."

Chestnut's voice caused everyone's heads to snap towards Yuu, who was staring down at her arms with wide eyes. The usual ink like scars that normally decorated her dark skin, which where tales of what she had survived, were gone and had returned her skin to its usual unmarked form.

"By the sevens…" Trey muttered.

"Did… did the blot absorb into her skin?" Vil spoke. "Is that why she has magic now?"

"We need to know the output of her magic." Chestnut got up and began looking through his desk. "I need to know how severe this is."

"Hold on." Idia said. "I'll get Ortho here, he can do a scan of her."

"Do it. Until then," He pulled out a magical pen and handed it to Yuu while Idia pulled out his phone "I need to see where her levels are at now."

Yuu mindlessly took it, everyone watched as the colorless gem in the pen flashed to orange and stayed there.

"No blot build up. At least that's something good."

"Are you alright, Child of Man?"

"Just…in shock, Mal." She tossed the pen around in her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"So what happens now?" Trey asked. "It's too late in the school year to enroll her into NRC."

"If she did enroll, she'd have to repeat the year." Jamil added as he places his hand on his chin. "And that's not accounting for Grim."

"Would they be counted separate now?" Kalim pondered.

"Now, now." Crowley tried to gain their attention. "They'll stay as one student and continue the school you as thus!"

Vil crossed his arms. "And for her second year?"

"Uh…" Crowley looks off to the side. "She won't be here for her second year. She'll be safety returned home, remember?"

"Why do I feel like you're lying?"

As the arguments and conversations about Yuu's potential future began to rise in volume, the young woman gritted her teeth.

"Enough!" She shouted, causing various things within the room to get picked up into the air via her wind magic. "Can we worry about this shit later?"

"Uh, Yuu-rin?"

"What?"

"Your shoulder is on fire."

Yuu blinked out of her anger, causing the items to drop to the floor, and looked at her shoulder. Indeed, it was on fire which she hasted to put out with wide eyes. Once it was out, Yuu slowly glanced over to where Rollo was looking at her with a pale look on his face.

"R-Rolls-"

"I-I need to leave." He clutched his chest as his breath started coming out in shaky pants. "E-Excuse me."

"Rol-"

Rollo quickly left the infirmary, slamming the door behind him and leaving the NRC students standing there stunned.

"What was-"

"Someone go check on him, please." Yuu's voice was soft."Please."

"I shall do it." Rook bow and tipped his hat before leaving the room.

"Why did he have that reaction?" Leona looked at her.

"…." She looked off to the side before sighing. "You already know Rolls doesn't like magic."

"Yeah."

"…he doesn't like it because he had a little brother… a little brother who died to his own magic because he couldn't control it. He burst into flames in front of Rollo's eyes and begged him to help him, but Rollo was unable to."

The room was silent, save for the ticking coming from the clock.

"And he believes…" Lilia spoke. "That the same thing will or could happen to you?"

"No doubt."

"Then that shall never come to pass." Malleus vowed. "We'll teach you how to control magic."

Yuu gave a soft smile. "Thanks, Tsunotaro…"

#twisted wonderland #twst fic #yuu homura #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #rollo flamme #twst oc #leona kingscholar #rook hunt #howard chestnut #dire crowley #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #trey clover #jamil viper #kalim al asim

61 notes · View notes

syonesims · 18 hours ago

Text

In high school, Dina was that kind of theatre kid who memorized entire Shakespeare monologues for fun and stayed up all night writing plays no one asked for. Today she spends most of her time working as an assistant on set, watching directors call the shots and hoping one day she’ll get there too. Finally, she has a peaceful life. A dream house, job and a clear future. No more chaos. No trouble. No Roy. Because back then, Roy and Steve were best friends. Steve was the one trying to keep Roy in check and Dina from walking away. But eventually, she did walk away - to him. He doesn't read poetry or understand her love for obscure movies, but he supports that. When her little brother became a teen dad, he stepped up. He’s everything Roy wasn’t, which is why she fell for him in the first place. Mature, calm, dependable. And never made her cry. Yeah, not even when he proposed. Xavier knows how much they've done for him, but he’s tired of being treated like a dumb kid. He can do it on his own and he'll prove it, because Danny Bell just got him a job. Though he doesn’t know his new friend doesn’t give out favors for free. And if Dina finds out? There will be hell to pay.

▸ BACKSTORIES AND CONNECTIONS:

STEVE / DINA / XAVIER

▸ DOWNLOAD HOUSEHOLD

▸ DOWNLOAD SEPARATELY:

STEVE / DINA / XAVIER

▸ SEE OTHER HOUSEHOLDS

we're halfway there guyss i already said that but i want things to happen when you load a family like it was in older games. obviously i cant script events buuut i managed to do something similar. keep reading if you're interested (or not if you want to discover it yourself in the save) i just thought it would be a fun addition and i want to do this for every household.

Dina and Steve are gettting married in 4 weeks (set in the calendar), so she can still change her mind. Right now, her preferences are set so she's a little incompatible with Steve, but is very attracted to him and very unsatisfied in their relationship. He has to fix it and maybe learn some of her interests to increase their compatibility. With Roy it's harder, because she still has A LOT of negative sentiments towards him and his entire lifestyle is a turn off for her. As far as I playtested, he can change that by gaining romantic and writing skills and getting a good job. They have amazing compatibility, so that way he should get a second chance. I also gave him streetfighter aspiration, so he has to win 50 more fights in order to pay his debt (and if Dina witnesses a fight it definitely wont help their relationship lmao). There's also a possibility she will break up with Steve and end up with neither of them if he won't fix their satisfaction. I didn't really want random story progression and that way things can still happen without playing the household. Took hours to figure out the attraction system and I playtested a few scenarios but I probably skipped something so I will be looking for playtesters and feedback!!

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 savefile #ts4 savefile #simblr #show us your sims #sims download #sims community #save file progress #households: oasis springs #households #syone 90s save file

40 notes · View notes

hanahleah · 2 days ago

Text

Gifted Kid Burnout

Chapter 6: Game Changer

chapter 5 | fic masterlist | ao3 summary: After weeks of working overtime, between looming deadlines and a dreaded annual performance review something just had to give. The AC gave out first. You weren’t far behind. Can the repairman fix it? Will you let him? (you’re an overachiever burning out in a corporate job and he’s just a guy who’s fixing your AC—until he’s not) pairing: Joel Miller x Reader warnings/tags: 18+, no outbreak AU, reader is a neurotic corporate girlie, corporate jargon and corporate burnout, age gap but nothing crazy (29 and 42), soft!Joel, slow burn-ish, smut, soft dom!Joel in later chapters. chapter warnings: 18+, fingering, oral sex

a/n: Well that was a struggle but it's finally here - enjoy! And let me know what you think!

You woke up with a pulsing headache, sprawled across Anya’s bed. She was already up, indicated by a chirpy tune and the clinking of cutlery coming from the kitchen.

Your feet hit the fluffy carpet and the room spun around you.

"Oh, look who’s up!” Anya squealed, suddenly standing in the bedroom’s doorway. "Miss-future-director and a part-time pornstar!”

You shot her a confused look.

"Well, you’re getting this promotion, eventually. Might as well start using the title,” she said, baring her teeth in a playful smile.

"Pornstar?” You asked.

"Well, sooner or later, you are going to fuck the maintenance guy,” she said, "which until yesterday I thought only happened in porn.”

You grabbed the pillow from under your head and threw it across the room. Missed.

"Are you gonna see him today?”

You shrugged.

"I don’t know. Do you think I should?”

"I haven’t seen you excited over a guy in ages. Maybe ever.”

"Yeah, I know and it feels fucking weird,” you said. "Like I’m fucking dumb.”

"It’s not dumb.”

"It was never like this with James.”

"Yeah, and look where it got you.”

"Yeah, fair.”

"I say go get him. Worst case scenario, you have some mediocre sex. Best case scenario, you marry a man who can fix shit himself.”

You rolled your eyes at her. "Stop it.”

***

It was late afternoon when you finally decided to head back home. You flopped down on your coach and pulled out your phone. You stared at your last conversation and remembered how the phone call ended. What did you want to say to him, before he stopped you? You weren’t sure now.

Hey.

Texting Joel became more comfortable once you noticed how quick he was to respond, how he never left you on read. The first time you did it you approached it like sending a proposal to a prospective client—careful, calculated, anticipating rejection. It was easier now. He made it easy.

As if on cue, your phone vibrated with his response.

Joel: Hello

Can we talk?

Joel: Sure.

Three dots again.

Joel: Want me to call?

You didn’t. It would just be the same—same playful banter, leading nowhere.

Come over?

Risky.

Joel: After 8 ok?

You smiled at the screen. There was something so reassuring in how available he made himself to you. You weren’t used to that. You were this person at work—always available, ready to respond to the client’s e-mail at 2 a.m. on a Sunday. People didn’t do that for you.

Yes.

***

Two hours later the realization hit—it was happening. He was coming over and there was no pretense this time. No broken AC, no leaking pipes—nothing he’d need his toolbox for. The only thing in your apartment that needed his attention was you.

You stayed under the hot spray of the shower for way too long, ticking tasks off the never ending mental checklist. You scrubbed your skin raw, exfoliated twice and shaved every inch of your body. Exfoliated again for good measure.

The bathroom was clouded with steam as you meticulously moisturized every bit of your skin, until your body was sticky and glazed like a donut. A perfect, clean, smooth, slick donut.

You wiped down the mirror with edge of the towel and glanced at your reflection, catching your own gaze. Your raised your eyebrows, shooting yourself a look that was almost condescending.

The whole thing was, after all, a little bit embarrassing. Here you were, ambitious and focused, on your best path to become the youngest person in your firm to be promoted to director. But also—here you were, shaved and glazed, on your best way to fuck the guy who fixed your AC.

***

By 7.50 p.m. you were ready for anything the evening held for you. You didn’t dress up, not exactly, thinking a simple cotton t-shirt dress was casual enough to wear at home and cute enough for… whatever this was.

Then suddenly he was there, no buzzing this time, just a gentle knock on your door.

"Hello.”

It was yet another version of him, you noticed. Not the on-the-job look, with the cap and the toolbox but also not the straight out-of-bed morning edition one you saw last week. You first noticed the shirt—an actual button-up, flannel, but still—and then the hair—combed back neatly. Was this a going-out Joel? A date Joel? Was this for you?

He stepped into your apartment, for the first time looking unsure of where to go. He didn’t have his toolbox. He wasn’t here to fix anything. It looked like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

You noticed his hesitation and tried to lead him further inside, stopping in the kitchen.

"Want something to drink?”

"Sure, whatever you got.”

You scanned the contents of your fridge. Water. Half empty bottle of wine. Almond milk. Two lonely cans—a beer and a Diet Coke. You turned away from the fridge, with a can in each hand. He smirked at the choice of drinks and reached for the beer.

The apartment felt awfully quiet, except for the soft hum of the now functional AC, when he opened the can with a loud pop.

You leaned against the counter, your arms almost automatically landing crossed on your chest.

"Why am I here?” He finally asked, his voice genuine, without any hint of annoyance.

"You told me you’d come,” you replied, your voice unsteady, "if I wanted to.”

"If you told me what you wanted.” He corrected you.

You hesitated for a second then got up and stepped closer to him, reaching for the can he was holding. He didn’t move, barely breathed, only observed you carefully when you took the can from his hand and put it aside on the counter.

He still stood perfectly still when you moved even closer, looking up into his dark eyes. Standing so close to him you noticed how much bigger he was than you. You were surprised at how much this thought excited you.

You stayed like this for a moment, close, almost touching. You breathed shallowly now, afraid you’d spoil this moment if you moved or made a sound, but even though these short breaths you caught his warm, musky scent.

"I want this,” you whispered.

He finally moved his hand to carefully cup your face. You leaned into his touch, your heartbeat pounding in your chest.

Another quick beat of hesitation and finally he tilted his face, moving it close to yours. His parted lips found yours and he gave you the gentlest, softest, shortest kiss. A kiss so chaste you couldn’t help but lean forward to chase another.

Your lips met his again, but this he froze still. Before you could react, he grabbed both your wrists, holding you in place, causing a shudder to ripple through your body.

“This what you want?” He murmured, his eyes locked with yours.

You nodded.

"You sure?”

"Yeah,” you uttered, out of breath.

His lips finally crashed into yours, making you gasp in surprise with how forceful and aggressive it was compared to the first kiss. Your wrists were tightly held in place in his hands, when his mouth devoured yours and his body pressed you into the counter edge. You were cornered by him, pinned against the kitchen island, but instead of panic, you only felt waves of arousal hit you.

You licked into his mouth, earning a low and quiet groan from him, when he let go of your wrists and grabbed your hips instead. Suddenly, he was lifting you—actually lifting you off the ground like you weighed nothing—and seating you on the counter. You whined into his mouth and opened your thighs to let him closer, to let him slot his hips between your bare legs.

He didn’t stop kissing you when he ground into you, letting you feel his very obvious erection. You were panting into his mouth now, all inhibitions gone now. His large hands were on your bare thighs now and his jeans rubbed against you, only separated by a thin layer of your panties.

You’d barely even been touched, but your legs already trembled where he held them and every rub of denim shot another spark through your body.

"Joel,” you uttered between short breaths.

His grip on your thighs loosened and he backed off slightly—a reaction that was definitely not your intention.

"Want to stop?” He asked softly.

"No—no,” you quickly murmured, your hands shooting too his arms, pulling him closer. "Want you.”

"Good,” he replied, his body relaxing against yours again.

He kissed you passionately again while his hands traveled further between your thighs, kneading your flesh. Finally, his fingers reached the rim of your underwear, where they stilled.

He broke the kiss to look into your eyes again, questioningly, followed by you eager nod. He held your gaze as his fingers moved towards your slit, touching you through the layer of fabric. A quiet moan escaped your lips when his finger finally slid beneath the lacy rim and dipped into your wet core.

"So wet already” he panted into your mouth, "want more?”

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words anymore. He traced your slit so gently, barely applying any pressure, sending sparks through your body. You felt charged, like electricity was running through your veins. It was almost embarrassing they way you unfolded for him.

Before you could slip into overthinking the situation and possibly ruining the moment, you felt him circling your clit in the way that made your back arch and your head fall back.

A soft moan escaped your lips again and you caught his expression—the earlier restraint and quiet intensity now undeniably replaced by a self-congratulatory smirk.

"What?” You breathed out, suddenly slightly irritated with the change of tone.

"Nothin’. You just look so pretty on my fingers,” he said, his hand not slowing down, the other one gripping your inner thigh, keeping you spread open

You tensed up, an irrational irritation replacing your arousal. Who was he to smirk at you like that when you were the one letting him do that in the first place? Why was an AC repairman smug enough to fucking smirk at you when it was you taking your pleasure from him? You tried to close your legs but his grip on your thigh didn’t falter.

"Such a good girl.” he drawled. "Letting me touch you like that.”

The words hit you like a truck. The momentary annoyance was gone, replaced by arousal so sharp it was electric. Your head fell forward into his shoulder with a moan and your hands flew to his arms again, bracing yourself on him like you were afraid you’d fall. Each stroke of his finger was bringing you closer towards completion and you were a goner, unable to move or say anything.

One, two, three more circles of his fingers on your clit and you came with a long whine, your entire body clenching and pulsing, your forehead pressed into his shoulder.

You slumped against him, breathing hard, still trembling with aftershocks. He kept his fingers still, pressed against your slit, until it stopped fluttering. He finally withdrew his hand and placed both his palms on your waist underneath your dress, soothingly caressing you.

"Okay?” He whispered into your ear.

You nodded against his collarbone, unable to speak yet.

You stayed like this for a while, his hands stroking your sides while your breath slowed down. Your mind felt completely still, like it was completely empty, devoid of any complex thought or worry. You huffed an absentminded laugh against his shirt.

"What?” He asked with a warm smile.

You shrugged. You wouldn’t be able to explain. You didn’t understand it yourself.

Finally, your heartbeat was back to normal and you regained control over your limbs. You raised your head to meet his eyes and god, his eyes—deep, dark, staring straight into you, seeing you like you’d never let anyone see you before. It terrified you. You wanted more.

Before you could change your mind, you peeled yourself off of him and slid down from the counter, back to your feet. He let you move away on your own, looking at you with anticipation.

Before he could react, in one swift motion you sank to your knees and reached for his belt.

"Hey, hey,” he uttered, "you don’t have to—”

"I want to.” You replied, looking up, face flushed, eyes glassy.

His breath hitched and his hand reached for your head, tucking a loose strand of your hair gently behind your ear.

He didn’t stop you when you pushed his jeans and his boxers down enough to take him out in your hand. He was hard and hot against your hand, and you almost flinched when you realized how big he was. You licked his swollen tip first, tentatively, earning a stuttered breath from him.

His hand was loosely resting against your head when you took him deeper—slowly, carefully, figuring out how much you could take without choking. He noticed your careful movement and tried to withdraw his hand, when you caught it mid-air, holding it in place.

"You want it?” He asked in a low drawl.

You weren’t sure what he was asking. You were sure you wanted it anyway. You nodded and hummed around his cock, sending vibrations through his body.

"Yeah, you want it,” he continued, his hand tangled in your hair now, now pushing yet, but steading your head, "good girl.”

The pet name sent electric jolt through your body, making you whine on his shaft.

"You want to be good for me?”

You nodded as much as the grip on your head let you.

"Want to me to tell you what to do?”

You let out a muffled whine.

"Then take it.” He said and gently pushed your head forward.

The thrill of the way he talked to you made you press your thighs together again, when you bobbed your head back and forth, guided by his hand.

Your mind was cloudy with arousal when you felt hints of creeping shame. Where was all this coming from? You wouldn’t let anyone else talk to you like this. You wouldn’t let anyone push your head on their cock. Hell, you’d never sunk to your knees on the kitchen floor for anyone ever before. This was as out of character for you as it ever got and he seemed to pick up on that, to notice how startled you were by your own reactions.

"Good, you look so good like this,” he drawled, looking you in the eyes. "You like this.”

You weren’t sure if his words were a statement or a question but they shot through you, making you take him deeper into your mouth, his tip almost reaching the back of your throat.

"Yeah, good, take all of it,” he said, his hand guiding your head to take him deeper.

Your eyes welled with tears but you were determined to keep sucking him, to take him as deep as he wanted. You yearned for the filthy praise he was uttering to you.

"Good, you take it so well,” he continued, "such a perfect mouth, taking me so deep.”

He must have noticed the effect of his words on you. You looked positively undone—your hair messy in his hand, your eyes glassy, your lips stretched with spit leaking around his girth—but still yearning for more.

"Knew you’d be good for me,” he murmured, "you’d let me fuck your mouth, wouldn’t you?”

You whined again, cheeks hollowing around him and finally, his hand stilled your head entirely, holding it in place while he sent short, stilted thrusts into your mouth.

He wasn’t rough, didn’t press any deeper than before—yet he was undeniably in control. The feeling of him using your mouth like this was electric, sending your mind into some hazy, floaty place. The slight discomfort of having you mouth opened so wide and dripping with spit was nothing next to the euphoria of being praised like this by him.

"Fuck, that’s good. Good girl, just a little more,” he said, picking up his pace.

You let him thrust into your mouth a few times more and then he was coming, shooting hot and wet at the back of your throat with a low groan, immediately loosening the grip on your head. You withdrew a bit, giving him a final suck and swallowing around him, then letting him out of your mouth and looking up at him with your lips still slightly open.

He bent down and picked you up, urging you to stand up. Steadied by his hands on your sides, you stood up, a little too fast, your legs wobbly, part from kneeling, part from the intensity of what just happened.

"Okay?” He asked, looking into your eyes, trying to read your expression.

A nod was all you could muster, your mind still pleasantly blank.

He kissed you again, gentle, almost careful, his hands caressing your body underneath the loose dress. Only then you realized your arousal was dripping down your thighs now. His hands roamed over your lower half, when he felt it too—his fingers digging into your slick inner thighs.

"Fuck,” he muttered, "so wet again just from sucking me.”

Your face flushed with shame. You wanted to protest, to tell him not to get too ahead of himself. You might have enjoyed—just a little bit—sucking his cock and getting called a good girl, but this didn’t give him permission to talk to you like that.

You almost talked back, when suddenly he grabbed your sides and turned you around, then, before you even knew, you were bent over the countertop, your hipbones digging into the cold stone, his hand forcing your legs apart.

"Stay still for me.”

A shudder shot through your body at his command and you stilled yourself without second thought.

You were back in the hazy state of arousal, your previous irritation gone as soon as it had appeared. Would he fuck you now, bent over your kitchen island countertop? Would you let him? You were astounded to discover that yes, you probably would.

His hand reached for your soaked panties and lowered them, just enough to slip his hand between your folds again and tease your entrance with his finger. He slipped one finger inside, while another rubbed your clit in circles while holding your hip down with his left hand.

"Come on sweetheart,” he said, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers.

It didn’t take long until you were clenching again, your walls squeezing his finger when you let out a soft groan again the cold marble.

As soon as you came down from your climax, he gently turned you around to face him and wrapped his arms around you, his eyes catching yours, silently checking in with you. You let a moment pass in complete silence when you slowly steadied your breath.

"Hey,” he said, fixing your dress with one hand, "Was I too rough?”

"No—no, it was good,” you replied, trying not to sound too shaken.

You weren’t rough enough.

He pulled you in closer and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his hands running up and down your sides again, grounding you.

"Let’s go sit down, okay?” He asked, between pressing lips to your face again.

The comfort of his voice, the steady touch of his hands and the slightly worried look he gave you were suddenly a reminder of what you just did—of what you let him do—and you felt your stomach sink a little.

It was one thing to come apart like this under his touch and another to let him do whatever he was doing now, all gentle, worried, treating you like you were made of glass. That’s were you could draw the line.

"I have an early morning tomorrow,” you said, trying for a casual tone, while you leaned back from his touch.

He pulled back slightly, not letting go of you completely, but loosening his grip on you.

"Okay. Should I—?” He glanced towards the door.

"I mean—” you uttered, taking a step back to free yourself from his arms, "I have to be up early. So I better—”

"Yeah, sure, okay,” he interrupted you, "I’ll get going then.”

He stepped away from you, reaching to zip up his jeans and straighten his shirt. You tried to look away not to meet his eyes, when he took a step towards you again.

"Hey, you sure you’re okay?” He asked softly, "I got a little too intense there.”

"No, no, it was fine. It was good,” you said, your voice steady now, casual as ever. "It was good."

You leaned back against the counter again, your arms crossed in front of your chest. Steady.

"Okay. That’s good.” He replied, his pained expression giving away how unconvinced he was. You didn’t move.

He looked at you and hesitated, like he debated whether to touch you again. Your guarded pose deterred him.

He only turned back towards you when he was halfway out of the door, his dark eyes searching for you.

"Goodnight."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel x you #soft joel miller #soft dom joel

26 notes · View notes

beannoss · 2 days ago

Text

WIP Word Meme!

Rules: share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of the word you've been given!

I got tagged on my main but this was such a fun writing meme, I wanted to bring it over here as well! So stealing the word I gave over there, that word was THYME

In this case, I'm bouncing around WIPS 😁

T - From the next chapter of the soft animal of your body, a fic for @briefhottubcoffee, a character study of Twilight and his relationship with touch and affection.

Twilight opened his arm to her and Anya stepped forward, leaning into his side. Her arm came up over his uninjured shoulder, the soft flannel of her pyjamas transferring warmth all along his side. Strange, he thought absently, I feel calmer. Tousling her hair, he said quietly, "I have a small injury. Yor's helping me tend to it." "Did Papa almost die?" "No, I didn't," Twilight said, at the same time Yor told her fiercely, "Don't worry, Anya! I wouldn't let that happen!" He experienced the strangest sensation, as though the world tilted on its axis, as Yor's palm pressed into his back, as Anya's weight relaxed into his side more fully. He shook it off, clearing his throat. "I just made a silly mistake."

H - from a future chapter of common love (formerly it’s only me, what have you got to lose?) A reveals fic, that explores intimacy, growing pains, fumbling through learning how to love and choosing to stay. ... None of which are represented in this snippet lmao

Handler greeted him, coding to him that things were so far as anticipated, before she turned to Yor. "And you must be Thorn Princess," Handler's voice turned notably warm, to Twilight's surprise. "I look forward to witnessing your skill in person." "Oh! Um, thank you?" Yor glanced first at Twilight and then at the Garden representative before returning her attention to Handler. "I'll do my best." Handler smiled. "You may refer to me as Handler. WISE aren't quite as creative with our code names as Garden appears to be." Yor bowed. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Handler." "And you are the illustrious Agent Twilight," the man standing beside Handler said. Twilight turned to him and bowed in the Ostanian custom of greeting. The man laughed. "What perfect manners. Though that's to be expected from you, I suppose." His tones were also warm, his amusement seemed unforced, not malicious. Almost as though he were inviting Twilight to join him in the joke. Interesting. "I go by Shopkeeper. It is indeed an honour to meet you, Agent Twilight. I'll extend the same sentiment as my WISE colleague did to Thorn Princess. It will be a pleasure to see you work."

Y - from chapter 2 of heartlines, a canon divergence soulmark fic. As ch 1 started with Twilight as a child, so too does ch 2 start with Yor as a child:

Yor nibbled her lip. Mamma gently poked her chin, "Stop worrying your lip, little bear!" She laughed and Yor giggled. "Worry me instead," Mamma said, opening her arms wide. Yor went warm and cosy all over and crawled into Mamma’s lap. "Mamma said Yor’s soulmate maybe isn’t from Osta," Yor whispered, like it was a secret, even though Mamma had used her normal voice for the story. Yor shared her worry, "What if Yor’s soulmate is from West'ros?" "Westalis," Mamma corrected, running her fingers through Yor’s hair. Humming, Mamma started to plait, even though Yor's hair was short and plaits mostly just stuck out to the sides. "There are worse things to be," Mamma said quietly, in the way Yor always felt like she was going to learn something very important, "Than being from Westalis."

M - also from a future chapter of common love

"Mhm! See if you can catch me," Yor said, smiling. Then tipped her head and raised her fingers to cover her mouth as she laughed behind closed lips. "Do your best!"

E - lastly, also from a future chapter of common love! To my surprise, E was actually the most difficult!

Especially when — I know my work is going to kill me one day — It was a relief to learn that Yor was immune to something which was a substantial threat in their line of work. On the other hand. "I thought learning to function through alcohol was unpleasant," Twilight said slowly. "What must poison tolerance training be like?" Yor held his gaze, her eyes wide, blood draining from her face. Finally she whispered, "Horrible. It was horrible. And I couldn't tell Yuri. When I came home, feeling… feeling sort of like I was inside out? I, I had to pretend I was all right. B-because of that training, most medicines don't really work for me either. Anaesthetics, general or local," she shook her head. "And so for recovery, I was mostly on my…" Own. Alone.

No pressure tagging: @briefhottubcoffee @smolhours @countrymint @cantareincminor @tare-anime @teenycabb @mortallyfoulnight @macaroni-cannoli and really anyone else who wants to play! Tag me with your answers, I wanna see 👀 Your word is BOATY 🚢

#spy x family #writing meme #twiyor #boaty isn't a word except in the british sense* but it does get all forger names in should you wish to use 'em!#also skimming these snippets i was far more indulgent here than when i answered on my main gdjsklga #i'm wary to post now since the last meme glitched 🧐#*for those unfamiliar there was once a poll in the uk for what to name a new research vessel #the winning name was boaty mcboatface #suffice to say they tried to not honour the results of the poll which became a furore unto itself 💁🏻‍♀️

25 notes · View notes

cosmicjoke · 16 hours ago

Text

A Dream of the Future and a Dream of the Past

Some people want to say that Armin wasn't a deciding factor in Levi's choice, or downplay Armin's role in that choice, and I know I've gone over this a million times, but rewatching episode 51 just throws into sharper relief how important and pivotal Armin was in the choice Levi made. I think the above sequence demonstrates without any doubt the truth of that.

Levi is remembering in this moment Armin's conversation with Eren and Mikasa from the night before, and then, following, he remembers his conversation with Erwin. In the former, he remembers Armin saying "Lets start by seeing the sea! You'll see, it does exist!", and in the latter, when Levi questions him about what he'll do if his dream comes true, Erwin admits "I don't know. I won't know until it happens."

This exchanges demonstrates a key difference between Erwin and Armin, and is a major factor in why Levi made the choice he did.

Because while Erwin can't see past the realization of his dream, and has no vision for the future beyond that, Armin can and does. He tells Eren and Mikasa that they'll start by seeing the sea, expressing a genuine and optimistic belief in a future beyond all the fighting and bloodshed and loss. Armin's dream of the sea isn't a literal dream of seeing the ocean. It's rather symbolic of Armin's dream of a better future for all of them.

Levi straight up references this quality in Armin that Erwin, nor anyone else, has, in episode 56:

He's telling Armin that he's seen something in him that makes him special. So while he's not a replacement for Erwin, he still believes Armin is able to contribute something just as valuable, maybe more so, to humanity's salvation. He believes in Armin, and his ability to take them beyond where they are, to something better. Armin being the other choice, and that strength Levi glimpsed in him was, undeniably, a major factor in Levi making the choice he did. He felt safe making that choice, felt it was possible to let Erwin go and still give humanity a fighting chance, because of Armin and his unique strength. As I've said over and over, this wasn't some absurd romantic cliche of Levi sacrificing humanity for Erwin's sake. It was Levi making a reasoned and thoughtful decision based on all known factors, and concluding that it was okay to let Erwin rest because humanity had a future in Armin's hands.

Later, right before Levi changes his mind, he recalls all of this:

Erwin was a slave to his dream, a dream rooted in and trapped in the past. For that reason, he was never been able to conceive of a future beyond the achievement of it. Levi recalls Kenny's words about needing a dream to be drunk on to keep pushing forward, and he realizes that, if Erwin finally realizes his dream of discovering the truth about the world, he'll no longer have that dream to push him forward. He'll have no future worth living for. He'll become a husk of himself, tormented by guilt. Erwin even admits, earlier, that he'd thought many times before that it would be easier to die, but his dream kept him alive.

Again, without that dream, Erwin has nothing. That dream defines his existence, but is also what led to a crushing sense of self-loathing in him. It's why he thanks Levi for releasing him from that dream by making the choice for him, to give it up and die for humanity. Erwin's dream was a chain around his neck, pulling him into darkness, and saddling him with the weight of hundreds of lives staining his conscience. But it's also what kept him going. It's the only thing that defined his future.

Armin's dream, on the other hand, is just a starting point. It doesn't encapsulate what Armin is living for. Eren even tries to remind Levi of that in a last ditch effort to change his mind, and that's juxataposed against Floch's argument for saving Erwin:

This demonstrates one of AoT's most key themes, which is that getting wrapped up in goals of revenge, or anger or hate, like Eren is, and like Erwin is, in turn, will only lead us astray, will, in fact, ultimately doom humanity. Floch argues that they need a "devil" to claim victory over the Titans, but Eren argues that they need the opposite. That Armin is the hope of humanity precisely because he isn't driven by any of those things. Rather, he's driven by the purity of hope. He believes life is worth living, and his dream of seeing the sea is only a manifestation of that belief. It's something to look forward to through the course of his life's journey, not the be all and end all of his life's existence.

The above shows us that contrast, again, between Erwin and Armin.

Erwin admits that everything he's done up to that point was because he believed he would someday get to see if he was "right". He was driven by a dream rooted in guilt and anger. But, again, Armin's dream was one rooted in hope and a belief in a better future. Remember, what Armin says to Eren and Mikasa comes on the heels of them admitting that things will never be like they once were as children, innocent and carefree. But Armin rejects the idea that things can never be good again by talking about the sea, by talking about how, even if they can never get those childhood days back, there's still something to look forward to, still something to live for ahead of them. The difference between him and Erwin is even highlighted in the scenes lighting and color palette, with Erwin's confession colored in dull, depressing, cold tones, while Levi's memory of Armin is colored in bright, warm colors.

Yes, Levi made the choice he did to spare Erwin the cruelty of forcing him back into the role which had brought him to the brink of self-destruction, to save him from the cruelty of people like Floch, who wanted Erwin to continue suffering for them. But Levi also made the choice he did because he realized that Armin had something Erwin didn't, which was a vision of something better, beyond the ugly brutality of their situation and beyond the confines of a bloodstained dream.

#Levi Ackerman #Erwin Smith #Armin Arlert #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #Midnight Sun #meta #commentary #analysis

20 notes · View notes

m34tthews · 2 days ago

Text

CHAPTER NINE

“in another life, i know we could ride out, boy”

pairing — auston matthews x vet!reader

summary — after another playoff loss, auston disappears from the spotlight and unexpectedly crosses paths with y/n—someone from a past life who feels both distant and familiar. they only have the summer, two people from different worlds colliding at the wrong time, reigniting something they never saw coming.

word count — 6.5k

warnings — minors dni. sexual themes (future chapters)

an — a shorter chapter because the next ones are going to be ginormous

masterlist

the kitchen smelled like coffee and toasted bagels, sunlight streaming through the blinds in thin stripes across the counter. y/n sat perched on a stool in one of auston’s hoodies, scrolling through her phone as he leaned against the island, arms crossed over his chest.

“so,” he said casually, “what’s the plan for the weekend? pool? movies? stay in bed for 48 hours and see who taps out first?”

she rolled her eyes, dropping her phone face down on the counter. “tempting, you fiend. but i can’t.”

his brows pulled together. “what do you mean you can’t? we’ve been seeing each other every day for almost two months, and now you’re just—bailing on me?”

“not bailing,” she said, smirking as she took a sip of her coffee. “i’m coaching.”

that made him blink. “coaching… what?”

“soccer.”

he stared. “soccer?”

she nodded, biting back a grin at his expression.

“you?” his voice pitched up. “you’re literally the least athletic person i know.”

“excuse me,” she said, sitting up straighter, “who beat you at golf on our first date?”

his laugh cracked out loud. “that was top golf. for amateurs. the only skill involved was making sure you didn’t throw the club.”

“still counts,” she said sweetly.

“barely,” he shot back, shaking his head. “so what, you just woke up and decided to become ted lasso?”

“please,” she scoffed. “my dad’s been reffing since my sister’s little league days with nat. now all the nieces and nephews are playing, and we take turns helping out. it’s my turn.”

auston took that in, his lips twitching. “how many kids are we talking?”

“a whole team,” she said, shrugging. “under six. which basically means i’m herding cats for an hour.”

he smirked. “and you signed up for this?”

“volunteered, actually.” she raised her brows pointedly. “some of us believe in giving back.”

he ignored that dig, moving to grab his mug. “so what, i just… sit at home while you’re out being coach y/n?”

“yeah,” she said breezily, already reaching for the cream cheese.

except that did something to him—because the thought of a saturday without her when he’d had her to himself almost every day for weeks? nope. not happening.

“nah,” he said finally, leaning on the counter. “i’m coming.”

she blinked. “you’re what?”

“coming,” he repeated, grin tugging slow across his mouth. “cheering section. water boy. moral support. whatever.”

her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. “you… want to come to a kids’ soccer game?”

“want to? no. need to? yeah.” he smirked. “you’ve had me holed up with you all summer, and now you’re trying to ditch me for kids? not a chance.”

her cheeks hurt from smiling. “never thought you would stoop that low to being jealous of kids taking my attention from you ridiculous.”

“what can i say? when it comes to you—i am selfish” he said, smug as hell.

and the truth is, she was just as selfish, if not more, when it came to him.

the field looked like pure, unfiltered chaos—bright pinnies darting everywhere, mismatched cleats kicking more air than soccer balls, and parents scattered across folding chairs like it was a sunday ritual.

auston wasn’t used to this. he was used to structured arenas, sharp-edged ice, controlled chaos. not… this—kids running the wrong way, laughter louder than whistles, and y/n right in the center of it all like a professional.

she had the whistle between her lips and that focused glint in her eye that made his stomach twist in the best way. crouched down at the sideline, hair tied back, sneakers dug into the grass—she looked like summer personified, sunlight painting her skin warm. and the way those little kids orbited around her? he was done for.

“let’s go, leo!” she called, clapping her hands as the boy sprinted (well, more like stumbled) toward the ball. “eyes up, buddy!”

auston grinned, sliding his hands into his hoodie pocket as he walked up, already catching a few curious looks from parents. a couple moms whispered—he clocked it but ignored it. his eyes were on her.

she spotted him halfway through giving instructions, and that grin split her face—wide, radiant, like it was just for him.

“look who decided to show up,” she teased, jogging over during a water break. the whistle dangled from her fingers. “mr. hockey himself on a soccer field.”

“hey, don’t act like this isn’t big for me,” he said, smirking as his gaze swept the grass. “you’re out here looking like coach carter, commanding your players.”

“yeah, okay,” she snorted, tossing him a grin. “six-year-olds with the attention span of a goldfish. totally intimidating.”

before he could shoot back, another voice piped up.

"auston, glad my baby sister got you invested in the superior sport”

he turned to find nat strolling over, a ball tucked under her arm, smirk sharp enough to cut. nat, former d1 soccer star had been waiting for this moment as a previous athete.

“i wouldn't go that far,” he said, easy grin sliding on. “it's nice to see you again, nat"

“same,” she replied, eyes flicking to y/n before back to him. “you should know we are a soccer or football family. if you marry my baby sister, you have to be ready to trade your skates for cleats."

he turns to y/n like it's the most outrageous thing he's heard, "our kid will be a multi-sport athlete. the athleticism will have to come from me though. y/n is hopeless"

y/n momentarily took her eyes of the kids to nail him in the gut, just enough to combat his teasing, "i'll have you know i am naturally athletic. right, nat?" she turned to her sister for help

"sure, sweetheart" nat, tapped her cheek lightly like she always did when she placated her younger sister, "anyways the kids are warming up for their next game. they are begging for you to join.” she turned back to auston.

“oh, i don’t think—” he started, but then a swarm of tiny voices cut in.

“auston! come play!” “we need more goals!” “you’re super tall, you’ll be good!”

y/n nudged him forward and he shot y/n a look that screamed betrayal.

she was barely holding in her laughter.

“don’t look at me,” she said, lips curving wicked. “you are one of them now. good luck saying no.”

and just like that, he was standing in the middle of the field, surrounded by six-year-olds who thought his six-foot-three frame was some kind of secret weapon.

nat blew the whistle. “alright, let’s see what hockey boy’s got!”

turns out? not much.

the second the ball rolled toward him, auston froze—like his brain short-circuited. a tiny kid zipped past and stole it right off his foot.

“bro, you didn’t even kick it!” one kid yelled. “my grandma moves faster than you!” another added.

auston gaped. “you guys are ruthless.”

from the sideline, laughter rang out. y/n was doubled over, hands on her knees, her whole body shaking. her mom and aunts weren’t far behind, phones out, filming everything like it was comedy gold.

“get low! use your legs!” nat hollered, cackling. “oh wait—you don’t know how to function without skates, huh?”

“i feel attacked,” he called back, trying to maneuver as three kids swarmed him for the ball.

he finally managed to kick it—only for it to ricochet straight into his own shin.

“ow, what the fu—”

“penalty! he swore” one of the kids screamed, gleeful.

“i did not! that's a terrible call,” auston muttered automatically, making y/n nearly choke on her laughter.

by the time nat blew the whistle again, the kids were buzzing from roasting him, and auston was red-faced—not from embarrassment (okay, maybe a little) but from how hard y/n was laughing.

“you good?” she teased, walking over as he dragged himself off the field, dramatic as hell.

“define good,” he grumbled, but the corner of his mouth tugged up when she pressed a cold water bottle to his arm.

“honestly?” she said, voice low as her family chatted behind them. “that was… adorable.”

“adorable?” he repeated, brows lifting. “baby, i’m a professional athlete.”

“yeah,” she said, smirking. “in hockey. not soccer. seeing you get schooled by six-year-olds was the highlight of the season.”

he gave her a flat look, then glanced toward the bleachers—where, yup, a few of those dads were still lingering, eyes flicking between her and him.

“looks like someone has a fanclub here” he motioned towards them vying for y/n's attention. his voice too casual to be nonchalant.

she followed his gaze, lips twitching. “maybe.”

“maybe?” he echoed, jaw ticking. “how long’s that been happening?”

“a few weeks,” she said, sweet as honey. “luke told me they think ‘coach y/n’ is cute.”

auston’s stare darkened. “cute?”

she grinned, stepping closer. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“jealous?” he snorted, leaning in so only she could hear. “nah. just thinking about which one i would be able to check into the boards first.”

her laugh bubbled out, bright and unguarded, and before she could answer, leo barreled over yelling, “coach! coach, we scored!”

“see?” she said, grinning at auston as the kids swarmed them. “maybe you were good luck after all.”

“oh yeah,” he muttered, pulling her into his side anyway, arm snug around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “definitely all me.”

the families around caught that—of course they did—and the teasing started immediately.

“aww, they look so cute,” a mother cooed.

“looks like another wedding is in the cards for you,” another spoke, directed toward y/n’s mom.

he just smirked, letting it all roll off as he looked down at her, hair messy from the wind, cheeks flushed from laughing.

yeah. he’d trade a getting attacked by a bunch of kids on a soccer field over an arena packed to the brim with fans shouting his name if it meant he could see her smile like that.

the second game had barely started when nat waved them off with a sharp flick of her wrist.

“go be gross somewhere else!” she yelled, laughing as another kid tripped over the ball.

“don’t come back unless you’re bringing snacks!” one of y/n’s cousins added.

“think they hate us,” y/n murmured, tugging auston toward the ice cream truck parked at the edge of the lot. the air smelled like sugar and waffle cones, kids squealing around them, parents chatting in lazy circles.

“nah,” auston said, hand sliding into hers, warm and big and grounding. “they’re just jealous.”

“jealous?” she shot him a look as they joined the short line. “yeah,” he said, grin curling slow. “because i’ve stolen their coach.”

her laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “you’re ridiculous.”

when it was their turn, she ordered a soft serve—vanilla dipped in chocolate, her usual—and auston went for something just as classic: cookies and cream in a cone. the vendor passed them over, and they wandered toward a patch of grass away from the chaos, settling on the edge of the field under a scraggly tree.

she sat first, cross-legged, and for a second he thought she’d leave space between them considering the proximity of their famillies. she didn’t. she tucked herself right against his side, thigh brushing his, like it was second nature now.

he raised a brow, smirking. “you’re not gonna sit across from me?” “and make you miss out on this view?” she teased, gesturing to herself with her free hand. “you mean my view every day?” he shot back, but his voice dropped as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her in closer. his hanf skimming up and down her bare thigh, dangerously close to her bottom.

“auston,” she whispered, laughing low, glancing toward the kids in the distance. “there are children.”

“and?” he murmured, thumb brushing under the hem of her shorts, fingers splayed on the warm skin of her behind. “i’m being appropriate.”

“this is your definition of appropriate?”

“mhmm,” he hummed, leaning down so his breath skimmed her temple.

“you don’t even wanna know what my other definition is.”

her cheeks burned, but she ignored it, taking another lick of her ice cream, pretending his words weren’t melting her faster than the sun.

then, of course, the inevitable happened—a slow drip of chocolate shell down the curve of her fingers. “shit,” she hissed softly, trying to catch it with her napkin.

auston caught her wrist instead. “don’t move,” he said, voice all low gravel as he brought her hand up—and yeah, he licked the drip away, tongue slow over her knuckle like it was the most normal thing in the world.

her breath caught, the heat under her skin boiling alive. “auston,” she hissed, glancing around, but his eyes—god, his eyes—were locked on her like they were alone.

“what?” he asked, smirk ghosting across his mouth as he let her hand go, casual as anything. “waste not, want not.”

she shook her head, flustered, taking a shaky bite of her cone as he leaned back on his elbows, long legs stretched out in front of him. his gaze didn’t move though—not from her lips, not from the way the sunlight hit her shoulders.

he didn’t let up for the rest of the afternoon, teasing her between licks of ice cream, stealing looks that made her pulse skip. by the time they piled back into his car, he sun was dipping low, painting the edges of the city in honey.

the drive home was quiet in that way that felt like a secret—windows down, his fingers brushing hers on the console, music humming low between them. it ended with a soft kiss at her door, lingering and slow, the kind that promised tomorrow.

and tomorrow came—bright and warm, carrying the smell of vanilla and sugar instead of sunscreen and summer air.

the hallway leading to her apartment smelled like vanilla and brown sugar, warm and rich, seeping into the walls like a hug. sunlight spilled through her kitchen windows, casting soft shadows over the floor, catching the faint sways of y/n’s hips as she stood barefoot by the counter, hair tied back messily, a pair of oversized sweats hanging off her frame and her headphones snug over her ears.

flour dusted the length of her forearm and the tip of her nose, and she was softly humming to herself—completely unaware. the tray of freshly baked cookies cooled on a wire rack behind her.

the front door creaked open slowly, quietly, and auston slipped inside. he’d texted, like always—on my way, be there in 10, i’m downstairs, the last one practically a warning. but she hadn’t replied. so when he turned the knob and found it unlocked, he rolled his eyes.

dangerous habit. he made a mental note to scold her.

he stepped forward without her noticing, long strides silent as he neared. then—his arms wrapped tight around her waist from behind, lifting her slightly off her feet.

“auston!” she shrieked, whipping around, headphones flung askew as she slapped his chest. “you idiot!”

he laughed into her neck, letting her feet touch the ground again, arms still secure around her as he dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“you left your door unlocked,” he murmured against her skin. “dangerous. could’ve been anyone.”

“i knew it was you,” she huffed, breathless but smiling. “you text me every five seconds. i knew when you were finishing your workout. i knew when you left the gym. i knew when you got in the car. you’re worse than a location tracker.”

“i’m just thorough,” he teased, his nose brushing the curve of her jaw.

she turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, tugging him in for a slow hug.

“hi.”

his grip tightened, hands spreading wide across her back like he was trying to imprint her into his memory.

“hi,” he murmured. “how was your day?”

“busy. one emergency surgery on a kitten, two new puppy vaccines, and a bengal that refused to get out of its carrier. yours?”

“sweaty. loud. long. made better now.”

her smile widened as she leaned up, brushing her nose against his.

“cookies are cooling. put on love island.”

he groaned dramatically, letting her go as she turned back to the counter.

“again?”

“you love it,” she called over her shoulder, smirking. “you say you don’t but then you have an opinion about every single couple.”

“because they’re all disasters.”

“you say that like you’re not obsessed with the chaos.”

he flopped onto her couch anyway, scrolling through her TV apps while his phone buzzed in his lap. his thumb instinctively went to instagram, scrolling through his feed—photos of friends he hadn’t seen in months, old teammates on vacation, birthday dinners he missed. there was a dull ache in his chest, a familiar weight of distance.

until she walked over, a plate in one hand, warm cookies piled high, a playful look in her eyes. she crawled between his legs without warning, settling herself on her knees as she held one up to his lips.

“taste test.”

he took a bite and groaned around it, grabbing her wrist and holding it there like he might actually need another immediately or he’d die.

“oh my god,” he mumbled, crumbs still in his mouth. “i need five more.”

“i know,” she said smugly, feeding him another. “i added more cinnamon. secret ingredient.”

after a few bites, she leaned forward, brushing his jaw with her thumb, and kissed him gently on the lips. he tasted like sugar and her.

when she pulled back, he let out a dramatic sigh and rubbed his stomach.

“you’re going to make me huge before i even get back to training camp.”

she laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“you’ll survive. we’ll go on walks with felix.”

“we always go on walks with felix.”

“exactly.”

he glanced down at her, brushing a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“my fitness trainers will kill me because of you.”

“because i fill you up sweets?”

“yup but i don't care because you make me feel like this,” he murmured, low, voice brushing against her ear. “soft. happy. lazy.”

she smiled against his neck. “you’re allowed to be soft here.”

and that made him pull her closer, one hand cupping the back of her head like he was holding something precious.

“good,” he whispered, “because i don’t want to be anywhere else.”

outside, the day melted into gold. inside, it was warm and slow and real.

“i need to start working out more.”

her head lifted from his shoulder, brows pulling together.

“what?”

“took me longer to get back on the ice this summer than i wanted,” he said, eyes still on the screen like it was nothing. “felt… off.”

guilt flickered in her chest, sharp and sudden. “auston,” she started softly, “is that… because of me? because you've been spending all your time with me?”

his gaze snapped to hers, steady and sure.

“nope. none of that,” he said firmly. “i play 82 games a season and have a killer training camp that snaps us all back in shape. most guys enjoy their summer with their loved ones.”

the way he said loved ones made her chest tighten.

and then—he moved, leaned over just enough to pull herbetween gis legs, settling her sideways across his thighs. his arm draped around her back, his other hand toying lazily with the hem of her sweatshirt.

“and i loved spending time with you,” he added simply.

she swallowed, something fragile catching in her throat.

“i just want you to be ready,” she murmured, fingers brushing his jaw.

“do i look unfit to you, baby?” he teased, grin curling slow as he flexed his arm just slightly, bicep tightening under her touch.

she rolled her eyes, but he caught the flicker in them—the way they dropped to his chest and lingered.

“thought so,” he said, smug now, leaning in close so his breath skimmed her lips. “you’ve been checking me out since i walked in.”

“you're not cute when you fish for compliments.”

“don't be ridiculous. i am always cute”

he kissed her then—slow, lazy, sweet, with the faintest taste of cinnamon lingering on his tongue.

after the cookies cooled, they moved to the couch shortly after, they were halfway through the newest episode when he finally said it—casual, almost too casual, his voice quiet beneath the sound of the villa girls screaming over a stolen kiss on tv.

"i'm going back to mexico. end of the month beginning of the next. just for two weeks."

she blinked, her cheek still pressed against his chest, where his heartbeat was slow and steady under her ear.

“oh,” she said, simple and soft.

it settled over her slowly, like a haze—the realization that the clock was ticking. every laugh, every lazy morning tangled in sheets, every impulsive trip for ice cream—they were all numbered now. a silent countdown had been running beneath her skin this whole time, and she’d been ignoring it.

because soon, he wouldn’t be here. no late-night texts when he couldn’t sleep, no casual drop-ins at the clinic with that crooked smile, no arms winding around her from behind while she baked, pressing soft kisses to her neck. no quiet walks with felix as the sun bled out over the horizon, his hand brushing hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

no auston.

the thought cut sharp. he had become part of her every day without asking—woven into her routines, her space, her thoughts—like muscle memory. and now that she noticed, now that she really let herself feel it, the idea of losing that made her chest ache in a way she wasn’t ready for.

and what scared her most wasn’t just the distance. it was how much she hated the thought of a life without him in it this way.

his arm tensed slightly under her, like he’d felt the shift in her body, that pull away without her moving an inch. his fingers slid along her jaw, steady and sure, tilting her face toward him—like he could anchor her before she floated too far from him. he prepared himself to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since they finalized their trip details.

"i want you to come with me," he said.

her brows pulled together. “what?”

"we all do. but especially me."

she opened her mouth, then closed it again, lips pressing into a thin line. “auston—maybe we’re moving too fast.”

his thumb brushed the side of her face, his expression steady.

“are we?”

she hesitated. “i don’t know. and i have work—i can’t just leave. two weeks is a long time, i—”

“i spoke to the receptionists about your upcoming schedule”

her eyes narrowed. “you what?”

“i am sorry if i overstepped. i had to make sure it was even possible before i brought it up,” he shrugged, a little smug. “they said you haven’t taken a single vacation day this year. not one. and that you deserve the time. your boss even chimed in and said he said you should go.”

her lips parted in shock. “they actually said that?”

“yeah,” he said, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “he said, and i quote, take her. she won’t do it for herself.”

she leaned back slightly, not out of protest, just needing a little space to process.

he watched her quietly, giving her time.

“what if your family thinks it’s weird that you're bringing a girl you've been seeing just this summer?”

“they won’t,” he said. “they’ll love you.”

her throat tightened. “you’re sure?”

“they already asked if i was bringing you. my mom literally texted me today to remind me to get you to come.”

“that’s insane.”

“is it?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “we’re doing this, aren’t we? you and me?” he motioned between their bodies.

she looked up at him. his eyes were soft. no pressure. just a question wrapped in hope.

and she realized she already knew her answer. because somewhere along the way, wanting him had become as natural as breathing—and the thought of stepping back now felt impossible. even if she tried, even if she told herself she should, she knew she couldn’t stay away from him. he was in her chest, in her pulse, stitched into the quiet spaces of her day.

so she nodded. slow, certain and let out a breath. “okay.”

his face lit up, something quiet and pleased behind his eyes.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “i’ll come.”

her lips were still parted from the word okay when he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over the corner of her mouth—not quite a celebration, more like gratitude. something warm. reverent.

she didn’t pull back this time. just stayed there, curled between his legs on the couch, her hands fisted lightly in the hem of his hoodie, her cheek pressed to his chest again. the screen played on in front of them, but neither of them were watching.

his thumb stroked up and down the bare skin of her arm, slow and steady. anchoring.

“you’re gonna love it,” he whispered. “i can’t wait to show you my roots"

“you don’t think we’re moving too fast?” she asked again, quietly, almost to herself.

his hand stilled for a beat, then settled flat against her skin.

“no,” he said simply.

she tilted her head to look up at him, her brow pinched in a soft, uncertain line.

“auston…”

he met her gaze, calm and unwavering. “we’re not teenagers anymore.”

she blinked. “okay, well, we’re barely—”

“we’re not kids anymore,” he corrected gently, his palm warming the curve of her arm. “we’ve lived some life. we’ve seen what works, what doesn’t. you know who you are now. i know who i am.”

she swallowed thickly.

“and i know that when i wake up, i want you there. when something good happens, i want to tell you. when something bad happens, i want to hear your voice.”

her lips parted, her heart thudding hard against her ribs.

“that’s not 'fast',” he continued, voice quiet. “that’s clarity.”

she went still, her fingers tightening against his chest.

“i’ve never had this before,” he added, slower now. “not like this. not with someone who makes the rest of my life feel… easier.”

her throat felt tight in the best kind of way.

he dipped his head, brushing their noses together. “i think we’re moving at the exact pace we’re supposed to. and if it ever feels like too much, we talk about it. because we’re grown now. we can do that.”

her breath caught. “you’ve… really thought about this.”

“you make it impossible not to,” he said with a lopsided smile.

she looked down for a moment, overwhelmed in the quietest way. then she leaned up, kissing him once—soft and slow, her hands threading into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“when do we leave?” she whispered, pulling back only enough to murmur against his lips.

his smile deepened. “two weeks from friday.”

“okay,” she whispered again.

“and you get to meet everyone,” he said, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “my aunts, uncles, cousins, all of my mom's side and let me preface by saying there are a lot of us”

“god, how am going to remember all their names.”

“you'll do it like you do everything with grace. they’ll love you anyway.”

“i’m going to bring a notebook.”

he laughed, chest vibrating beneath her palms. “you’re such a nerd.”

“you like it,” she challenged.

he dipped his head again, lips ghosting over hers. “you have no idea how much.”

and she melted back into him again, letting herself believe—for the first time in a long time—that maybe this wasn’t just a temporary good thing.

maybe this was the start of something solid. something that could last.

auston had been sprawled on her bed since he’d walked in from hsi work out the next day, freshly showered but still flushed from the second round of off-ice workouts they were making him do ahead of his two-week trip. his hair was still damp, the edges curling faintly against his forehead as he laid there in gray sweatshorts, that didn't leave much to her imagination, his usual a white tank, a bottle of water resting on his chest like he couldn’t even be bothered to hold it up anymore.

he looked like a man recovering from war. or at least the gym. same thing, in his mind.

“you’re dramatic,” y/n said over her shoulder, kneeling beside the open luggage on the floor, folding her fourth sundress.

“i’m dying,” he groaned in response.

“you just have to get in shape to eat nonstop in mexico.”

“don’t joke about something that serious.” his voice was muffled, head tilted to the side, watching her in the sunlight pouring through the window. her hair was tied up messily, a pen lodged in it from earlier, and she was still in an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, sliding around the room with practiced ease.

he’d never seen anyone make packing look so attractive.

“what should i wear to meet your family again?” she asked, holding up two different tank tops, looking between the mirror and her reflection. “like…what’s the vibe? do they hate revealing clothes? no crop tops?”

he barely moved, just lifted his arm and propped it behind his head, a smirk tugging lazily at the edge of his lips. “preferably nothing.”

she turned, unimpressed, and chucked a pair of shorts directly at his chest. they bounced off and landed in a heap on the bed next to him.

he grinned wider, grabbed them, and sat up with effort. “i like these.”

“you like anything that gives you ideas.”

“guilty.” he stood and stretched, yawning before sauntering over to where she was still crouched beside the suitcase. she didn’t flinch as he came behind her, just kept folding. he leaned over her slightly, nosy as ever, eyes skimming the already packed items. “this is what you’re bringing?”

“yes.”

“it’s gonna be a billion degrees, you know.”

“i know.”

“you won’t need half of this,” he said, tugging on a pair of linen pants with a teasing scoff. “you’re packing pants?”

“a girl has options, auston. besides,” she shot him a look over her shoulder, “we’re staying with your family. i can’t exactly have my ass out.”

“i mean…” he lifted a brow suggestively. “i wouldn’t complain.”

“you wouldn’t,” she said, shoving a pair of sandals into the bag before zipping up one of the pouches. “but your grandma might.”

he made a face. “okay, fine. bring the pants. but also…” he wandered toward her dresser, opening the top drawer like he had every right to. “what’s this?”

“hey!” she turned, face flushing slightly. “what are you doing?”

“looking for more acceptable packing options,” he said innocently.

but his expression changed when he found it—delicate black lace folded neatly beneath a few plain bralettes. he plucked the piece up, holding it between two fingers, his grin turning downright wolfish. “and what’s this?”

“nothing for you to see. perv,” she deadpanned.

“no,” he corrected, walking back toward her slowly, still dangling it in front of her. “this is destiny.”

“auston,” she warned, biting back a smile, “put it down.”

“pack it,” he countered.

“no.”

“please.”

“absolutely not.”

he dropped to sit beside her on the bed, still holding the lace, brushing it gently across her bare knee. “if you think i’m spending two weeks sleeping beside you, knowing this is buried in some drawer back home, you are crueler than i thought.”

“if you think you’re getting any action under your parents’ roof, you’re crazier than i thought.”

“no,” he groaned, falling backward onto the bed with his arms thrown out dramatically, the lingerie tossed to the side. “you’re gonna kill me.”

she leaned over him, placing her hands on either side of his chest, watching his eyes trail from her face to the sway of her shirt. “then stop snooping.”

he reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “only if you pack it.”

“we’ll see.”

“that’s not a no.”

“it’s also not a yes,” she whispered, dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her lips barely grazing his skin.

his hands came up, palms skating under the hem of her shirt, resting on the warm skin of her hips. “you’re so sexy.”

“you’re insatiable.”

they laughed into the kiss that followed, the kind that started teasing and turned breathless, her fingers gripping the collar of his tank as she sank further into his space. by the time he rolled them, pinning her back gently into the mattress, both of them were smiling and flushed, surrounded by half-packed clothes and forgotten jokes.

he kissed down her neck, tugging her shirt up inch by inch, murmuring against her skin, “you better pack that lingerie.”

she smiled up at him, fingers dragging down his spine. “fine. but only if you’re good.”

“i'm always good for you.” he grinned earnestly.

“i’ll let you know,” she whispered, pulling him back down into her, laughter and heat tangled up like everything else between them.

they didn’t leave the bed for hours.

the suitcase stayed half-zipped at the foot, clothes folded and rumpled now, a shirt kicked off the side, her shorts somewhere near the pillows. his laughter echoed faintly beneath the breathier sounds — skin meeting skin, the hitch of a gasp when he trailed kisses lower, and the rasp of her voice calling his name like it belonged only to her.

and maybe it did.

because no matter how far he went — on the road, on the ice, across the country or two time zones away — something about this, about her, always pulled him back like gravity.

the room was quiet now. just the hum of the fan above them and the soft rhythm of their breathing, tangled in the sheets as the afternoon sun began to dip into gold through the curtains. auston had one arm behind his head again, and the other curved around her bare shoulder, her fingers drawing light circles on his chest, slow and thoughtless.

“i should finish packing,” she murmured, voice soft and thick with post-laughter haze.

“you should stay right here.” he turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “you’ve got time.”

“you’re distracting.”

“that’s literally the point.”

she laughed under her breath and turned into him slightly, the curve of her body fitting perfectly against his side. “you always win.”

he looked down at her, lips brushing her temple again. “no,” he said quietly, “you do.”

she didn’t answer right away, just curled tighter into him, letting her hand trail lower across his ribs, then flattening over his heart like she was memorizing the beat of it. he caught her hand and held it there, eyes falling closed again for a second.

“hey,” he said after a moment, voice a little rough, “when you come with me, you’re not gonna be nervous, right?”

“nervous?”

“about meeting the rest of my family. being somewhere new. i don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

“i'll try,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers. “i’ve already met your mom and sisters. if anything, i’m worried they’re gonna like me more than you.”

“please,” he scoffed, rolling slightly to pin her under his arm. “they already do.”

she giggled, squirming under him playfully as he kissed along her shoulder, then to her jaw, then finally catching her mouth again. it was slower this time, the heat softened by the intimacy, his hands smoothing down her sides as he kissed her like he had all the time in the world.

and maybe he didn’t. maybe the season would start and take him away again. but here, now, with her smiling under him and his name on her lips, the world had never felt more still.

outside smelled like sun-warmed grass and fresh rain, the kind that lingered after a late-morning drizzle. felix padded happily ahead, his paws kicking up bits of dirt as the leash trailed from y/n’s hand. her other arm was looped with auston’s, their steps slow and unhurried along the winding trail that curved through the park.

she’d packed for the day—tossed snacks into a canvas tote, filled two water bottles, even slipped in a ratty old tennis ball for felix—and now here they were, the three of them: him in a faded cap and grey hoodie, her in cutoffs and a soft crewneck that looked suspiciously like one of his.

they’d been like this for two months—wrapped up in each other so completely that the world outside barely touched them. and still, it felt new. still, it hit him sometimes, sharp and sudden, how much he liked her. how much he wanted to keep liking her.

“you packed your bag like we’re camping. not walking felix on a trail,” he teased, glancing down at the bulging tote swinging from her shoulder.

“snacks are essential,” she shot back, tossing him a look. “you get hangry every two hours. i’ve learned.”

“hangry?” he repeated, feigning offense.

“oh, please,” she laughed. “you sulk like maria, when you’re hungry. it’s annoying.”

he grinned, teeth flashing as he gave her hip a little nudge with his.

“bold words for someone wearing my clothes in public,” he murmured, low enough that it brushed against her ear like heat.

her cheeks warmed instantly, and he caught it—the way she tried to bite back a smile, eyes darting away for half a second.

“you noticed,” she said lightly, tugging at the hem.

“noticed?” he echoed, mock incredulous. “baby, i always notice. keep it coming—i like people knowing you have a man."

she rolled her eyes but the flush crept down her neck, and he felt that stupid swell of pride in his chest—the one that always came when he caught her in something of his, like it marked her in a way no one else got to see.

felix trotted ahead, tail wagging, nose to the grass, and auston squeezed her arm gently, steering her around a muddy patch before dropping his hand to lace their fingers together instead. her palm was warm, small against his, and he rubbed his thumb over the dip of her knuckles like he couldn’t stop himself.

“you okay?” she asked after a beat, voice softer now.

“perfect,” he said simply, and it was the truth.

they walked a little longer before the trail opened into a clearing dotted with wildflowers and a few scattered benches. she slowed, eyes sweeping the open space, then dropped the tote on the grass with a quiet thud.

“snack break?” he guessed.

“you read my mind,” she grinned, sinking onto the blanket she’d pulled from the bag. felix immediately plopped down beside her, tongue lolling, while auston stretched out behind her, propping himself on one elbow.

it was quiet for a while—just the sound of birds overhead, the rustle of leaves, her laugh when felix tried to nose his way into the snack bag. and then—he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at the curve of her jaw.

“you know,” he said, eyes catching hers, “you’ve gotten… bold.”

she blinked. “bold?”

“mhmm,” he hummed, dragging the pad of his thumb slowly across her cheekbone. “pda was, like, your personal nightmare when we met.”

she scoffed, grabbing a piece of fruit from the container between them. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“is it?” he teased, leaning in just enough for his breath to fan across her lips. “first time i tried to kiss you in public, you looked like you were about to file a restraining order.”

she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “i did not.”

“you flinched.”

“i was surprised!”

he smirked, eyes dropping briefly to her mouth before finding hers again. “and now?”

she hesitated, then shrugged, casual—except her pulse was jumping against his fingers where they rested on her neck.

“now,” she murmured, “i kind of like it.”

that did something to him—sharp and deep. because kind of like it didn’t even begin to cover the way she leaned into him now, the way her knees brushed his thighs like muscle memory, the way she looked at him like the sun couldn’t compete.

“yeah?” his voice was low, rough around the edges.

“yeah,” she whispered back, and then—she kissed him.

slow at first, like the world was still holding its breath. then deeper, warmer, until he was pulling between his legs and the blanket was sliding, forgotten, into the grass. felix huffed beside them, offended by the lack of attention.

her hands curled into his hoodie, and he smiled against her mouth, smug and stupidly happy.

when she pulled back, breath shaky, he pressed his forehead to hers and murmured, “so… holding hands in public doesn’t make you wanna sprint anymore?”

“maybe not,” she admitted, cheeks pink, lips swollen.

“good,” he said, brushing his nose against hers. “because i like showing you off.”

her laugh was soft, caught in the space between them.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“and you’re mine,” he said without thinking—and then froze, because this time he said it, it felt dangerously close to something bigger. heavier.

but she didn’t pull away. didn’t tease. just smiled, quiet and sure, before kissing him again like it was the only answer he needed.

and if his chest felt like it was about to split open, well—he’d deal with that later.

for now, he lay back on the blanket with her sprawled across him, felix snoring at their feet, and thought. i could live in this moment forever.

taglist — @celestixldarling @steph1106 @siennaluvshcky @macka

49 notes · View notes

williceunleashed · 3 days ago

Note

I have some questions about Sybil, more specific about their future sight ability :)

Like how precise is it far away does it go, and how close to the present can it be ?

Could Sybil be able to see a future in which he isn't a part of anymore ?

Is it only a future that they will directly be a witness too, since you mentioned they can sense smells, or physical touch, but can it be a vision more board of the future, that they will not experience, Or can they only see the future that relates to them ?

How exactly does the future sight manifest ? Is it something sudden that they realize immediatly, or is it something that they need someone else to realize, since you mentionned they can mix up different futures, would they need someone to tell them that they had a future vision, or can they realize it by themselves ?

WOAH I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH !!! I'M GOING TO YAP SO MUCH I'M SO SORRY

Here is basically a TLDR :

I summoned my inner-N to create this sheet

The closer to present the futures are, the clearer they appear to Sibyl and the better they can interpret the probabilities (Example : Ghetsis snapping at Zinzolin)

An event appears blurry and hard to interpret if it's far ahead in the future and/or depends of many moving variables. (Example : Ghetsis' decision of attending Anthea's birthday depends on many factors, making him change his mind too much to have a clear answer)

If an event has extremely high chances of happening, Sibyl will be able to perceive it clearly, despite how far in the futures it can be. (Example : Ghetsis has planned to do a speech on a specific day in a specific place and he will do that speech no matter what)

A bit of a special case, the chances of an event happening can get higher the larger the time windows for the event to happen it. (Example : Sibyl knows that N will practice skateboard for around a week before changing his current hyperfocus, and the more he practices, the more he risks to fall and hurt himself)

Very very big yap under the cut cndicnsioc

About how clear things appear to be : The future sight functions using probabilities (Which N finds really enjoyable to calculate). The more likely a scenario is to happen and the clearer it will become for Sibyl. The further an event happens in the time, the less likely it is to be clear, except if it has a very high chance of happening !

Because more parameters impact an event that is more distant in the future, said event is more likely to be blurry and unclear, until it becomes closer in time and/or has less moving variables.

As an example, Sibyl meeting Ghetsis' children was such a high probability that Sibyl had extremely vivid sights of them two years before actually meeting them. This means that in almost every future, Ghetsis discovers Sibyl's power and decides to have them go down the Castle.

Another example, Sibyl was also very much aware that by the time N would turn 20, something really big would shake all of Unova, and that Ghetsis and N would be the epicenter of it, as there was a 100% chance of Plasma coming out publicly at this specific date following Ghetsis' planning !

Sibyl can perceive things that are just about to happen, but it makes the sight much more "real". If we talk about unplanned, sudden changes about to happen, Sibyl will often be disturbed by how vivid the new information is, often mistakenly thinking that the stimuli is unfolding in the present. In one fiction, they hear a mirror fall a few minutes before it does so, the stimuli being so real that they believe it has happened in the present ! This happens for what are considered freak accidents, car crashes, plates breaking on accident... These type of things were so unlikely to happen that when they become likely, it's very close to the present usually minutes beforehand, and the information is extremely vivid.

Point of view : Sibyl perceives the futures as a first person point of view ! Sibyl can see a future in which he doesn't exist anymore only if the events are extremely likely to happen.

As an example, this is the case with the eventual explosion of the sun. Because this event happens extremely far away in time, Sibyl can only perceive the sense of doom that comes from it, and not feel anything "sense-wise", not even see it. They just know something devastating will happen. Sibyl was therefore canonically scared of the sun's explosion as a kid

Sibyl can't perceive things that are either too far away in space (Example : What will happen in Galar or Paldea), or too far in time if the probabilities of happening are too low and/or have too many moving variables (Example : Will they eat a pizza the 22th of november 2025)

Prediction for events at a bigger scale : I think that the end of BW1 illustrates a bit more easily how Sibyl perceive things ? The moment N suggests to the player that they will have a last fight in the Castle if the player can awaken Reshiram, Sibyl knows that the futures have changed. They still perceive the futures in which N wins, but they can now also see a destroyed Castle, the grunts lost without their King. They can see themselves having to go to a Children's Home because Ghetsis won't be there to care for them anymore.

This means that, despite not being present when N has this specific dialogue, Sibyl is aware that something has happened, because the future where N goes missing is becoming much much clearer !

In the same way, Sibyl was aware that they'd meet the three Harmonia children way before Ghetsis even knew that Sibyl had powers, simply because in almost every future, Ghetsis discovers Sibyl's powers and leads them down the Castle.

All of this means that, to a certain extent, if Sibyl really tries to narrow what is causing the futures to change, they can pinpoint who will do what, as long as they can feel the ripples of their decisions in the future. This would make Sibyl an extraordinaire foe if they actually used the full potential of their power, and is why Ghetsis is so adamant in keeping them nearby, considering Sibyl an extremely useful and powerful weapon if wielded properly.

How the sights manifest : The sight is something that is quasi-permanent ! It doesn't appear to Sibyl like sudden visions. The futures and the present usually create some sort of confusing overlap, and the more likely a future is to happen, the clearer it will appear to Sibyl.

Sibyl's future sight actually impacts people and places ! Because Opelucid appears as either very old or very futuristic depending of the game version, Sibyl perceives a weird overlap and hates that place. Same for White Forest / Black City ! For people, if someone came close to dying, Sibyl sometimes perceives their body and face as blurry, and sometimes as decomposing or partially inexistant. This is usually due to how the death of this person had a much higher percentage of becoming real than their survival. It's notably the case for Ghetsis, N (Post BW2), Dar (Post BW2) and Melony (Post BW2).

About their ability to interpret sights and how they decipher them from present : As Sibyl grows up, they become able to decipher what is "sight" from what is present or memories ! As a young child, they confuse the sights with the present and memories almost constantly, leading to their speech seeming completely nonsensical. This leads to a 3 years old Sibyl talking about having witnessed the funeral of their grandfather before their grandfather was burried.

It takes actual years of actual training for Sibyl to learn how to decipher what are futures and what is the present or memories. Recording future events and their probabilities of happening in journals actually helped a lot, as it enabled Sibyl to physically write down the futures and separate them from the present more easily in their mind. These journals were then read by the Sages and Ghetsis to prepare their next move to come to the desired future. The Sages and Ghetsis would usually have conversations with Sibyl about the futures they perceive, and help them understand that sometimes, what they thought to be memories where parts of the future sights, and had to be added to the journals too.

As an adult, Sibyl can live a relatively normal life despite the sight. They are able to tell what are futures, what is the present and what are memories !

The hardest part is usually to pinpoint when in the futures the events happen. Sibyl usually has a vague knowledge of the timing, but the more moving variables exist, the harder it is to pinpoint the event in time.

I hope this answer your questions ! I'm sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my native language cndicqndoc

#ask #pokemon oc #oc: sibyl #oc lore #lore dump #willice's art #willice rambles

24 notes · View notes

horsechestnut · 2 years ago

Text

Thinking about my Batfamily Umbrella Academy Au again and just...

Dick who has the world's worst case of imposter syndrome, because is he really a fantastic acrobat, or is he just manipulating the gravity around himself? Without his powers would he even be able to walk along a balance beam? He'll never truly know.

Cass who can live in a moment for as long as she wants, who can take the time to analyze every single detail and judge her next move. Who can't do anything without analyzing, who freezes time on instinct before every action. She moves through time differently from everyone else, every day lasts five times longer.

Jason who can hit a bullseye from any distance, but knows it will never be enough to actually impress Bruce. With his power set, it's not impressive, it's just expected. It doesn't matter that he didn't use his powers, all that does is make his powers, and by extension himself, seem less useful.

Duke who doesn't trust his own eyes. He only believes in things he can physically touch, because what's to say he's not just making himself see what he wants to? If he can manipulate others perceptions on a whim, how easy must it be to manipulate his own?

Damian who's power is function-less in a fight, and so spent his life constantly training to try and compensate. Who spent so long training and honing his ability that now he struggles to talk with other people. And despite that sacrifice, still can't rise higher than Number Five because of the one thing outside of his control.

Tim who hesitates before he touches anything for the first time because he never knows what he might see. Who had to learn to keep his face natural no matter what he learns, better that than having to explain what he saw to someone who won't understand.

Stephanie who discovers she has powers, that maybe she's not actually the weak link and she can finally help her siblings, just to find out they think she's a villain. That even when they're all the same, she's still the outsider. They still don't believe in her.

149 notes · View notes

godsfavoritescientist · 1 year ago

Text

So there's this webserial called 'worm' about a world where superpowers started suddenly showing up in the 70's, and I'm trying so hard to think of a way to merge it with the stans-and-fidds 70s-and-80s plot events. The thing is, powers are caused by going through a traumatic event, and the powers are tied to both that event and to the person's various issues in ways that sometimes seems cruelly ironic. So you see my dilemma here, with there being so many options for events that could've given these guys powers

#godsrambles #fidds is easy: within worm's power classification system he'd be a tinker #which is where you get a superpowered understanding of how to create things that would otherwise be impossible #e.g. making killer robots far more advanced than current science is capable of #if working on the portal was what gave him powers though...... he could either get tinker powers specifically related to making portals #or if it was the greloblin then somethjng related to memory erasing #for stan. idk what would be the most upsetting. shapeshifting restricted to looking like other humans probably.#great for evading the law and for pretending to be ford for 30 years though #oh maybe ford would get precognition. ability to see hundreds of potential futures #maybe in combination with no longer needing to sleep. able to trap himself in literally endless rumination as he tries to figure out-#-how to stop bill #none of these are the Fun Flashy kind of powers though. stan would have fun with fire powers #oh wait. even worse for stan: powers that evoke leeches. able to temporarily steal or drain powers from others or something #or able to copy others' powers permanently in a weaker form than the original power. and he can have multiple weak powers at a time #in this world the mob would have powered folks in it of course so maybe a situation involving them could cause that power #OR. if his powers happened in the aftermath of the portal incident.#ability to teleport anything and anyone within his line of sight directly to him.#he'd be mad for 30 years straight about not getting that power before ford fell through the portal #that or the ability to summon common tools out of nowhere. such as a long rope #idk the powers are always very specific. pretty sure no one following me knows what worm is.#but you can at least appreciate the exercise of thinking up what powers would deal the most psychic damage to these guys

9 notes · View notes

snail-day · 4 months ago

Text

Okay. Breathe, Satoru. You can do this. It's just a sleepover. Just your girlfriend. Just the person you're absolutely, irrevocably obsessed with. Who you're trying really, really hard not to scare off.

Standing in your apartment, hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep from touching everything. You’re flitting around, casual, relaxed, while he’s trying to memorize the shape of your furniture, the smell of your space, the way you hum when you walk into the kitchen.

Satoru's baby-blues locking onto the bathroom door. “I’ll, uh... shower first, if that’s okay?” like it’s the most neutral, chill request ever. It’s not. He’s sweating. His ears are pink. You nod like it’s no big deal - of course it’s no big deal - but to him? It’s a very big deal.

He gently closes the bathroom door behind him. Worries if he makes too much of a sound, he will be banned from your fine establishment. Your things are everywhere. Shampoo bottles, conditioner, your razor, a little candle half-burned on the sink, your loofah hanging from the shower knob, the loofah. He stares at it for too long.

Are we at the loofah-sharing stage? Satoru wonders, frozen in place. It’s pink. Fluffy. It looks soft, and it’s yours, and he’s fighting every stupid urge in his body. “Don’t be weird,” muttering aloud, as if he can command himself into normalcy. Still, his fingers twitch. He holds it. Briefly. Gently. Just for a second. Just to say he did.

Then comes the body wash. He squirts out the tiniest amount and rubs it between his hands like it’s precious perfume. The scent hits him and he nearly slides down the wall. You smell like this. You smell like this all the time. How is he supposed to survive? Because now he smells like you.

Pressing his face into the steam and pretends it’s your neck. He’s sick. Maybe a little pathetic. He knows it. But he’s also just so in love. What can a guy do?

When he steps out, face flushed and hair damp, he feels like a teenage boy at his crush’s house for the first time - which, in his mind, he kinda is. You’re waiting for him in pajamas, makeup wiped off, looking soft and sleepy and so perfectly you. He thinks he might pass out.

And then… brushing teeth together. Should be simple. Should be normal. But nothing is normal around you. He’s beside you at the sink, trying to play it cool while your shoulder brushes his. You hum to yourself while brushing, glancing at him through the mirror, and he nearly foams at the mouth. Or maybe that’s the toothpaste. He’s not sure.

Then he sees it.

A little blob of foam at the corner of your lips.

Something happens to him. Something dark and unspeakable. He wants to kiss it away. He wants to lick it off your mouth like a psychopath. He stares. Blinks. Shakes his head like a wet dog. Absolutely not. No. Stop it.

What’s wrong with you, scolding himself. She’s just brushing her teeth. Like a person. A very pretty, perfect person.

He spits. Rinses. Avoids eye contact. Looks at the drain. Looks at your spit down the drain. Another weird thought. One that must be suppressed.

And then it’s time. Bedtime. Final boss.

Your bed is small. Cozy. Absolutely infested with plushies. He pretends to be annoyed but he secretly loves them. Even if they are plotting to kick him off the edge of the mattress. He climbs in carefully, unsure which plush is your favorite. Unsure what you'd do if he accidentally knocked one little guy off the floor. The blanket smells like your laundry. Like home. Like the future he wants with you.

You’re already under the covers, blinking at him sleepily, smile soft and content. Wearing his shirt and not much else. The fabric rides up your thighs and he has to look away before his brain fully melts. He deserves a prize for not making a move. Deciding to lay on his back, stiff, hands folded like he’s in a coffin. He doesn’t touch you. Not even a pinky. Be good, chanting to himself. Be good. You like her. You love her. You’re not a perv, you’re not a perv.

You shift closer.

A leg brushes his. A sigh escapes your lips. Your hand settles gently on his stomach like it belongs there.

He almost cries, something between a half whimper and a wheeze leaves his throat.

Slowly, carefully, he slides his arm around your waist. You don’t flinch. Don’t pull away. You lean into him.

He swears he hears wedding bells.

You fall asleep just like that, face nestled against his shoulder, breath even and slow. And he lies there, heart racing, brain fried, blinking up at the ceiling, Satoru would be getting no sleep tonight.

His thoughts are a mess: She’s so pretty. Is she really mine? What if I kissed her forehead? No, too soon. Maybe not. God, her skin is soft. I should move in. Tomorrow. Today. Right now. No, bad. Calm down. Be cool. Be a good boyfriend. Don’t get a boner. You’re cuddling. It’s fine. Just breathe. You’re okay. This is okay. Everything is okay.

He wants to. Touch you, that is. Just your waist. Just a hand on your back. Just to pull you closer and feel your heartbeat against his chest. But he doesn’t. He stays perfectly still. He doesn’t want to push anything. You haven’t done that yet, and he’d rather die than make you uncomfortable.

Except nothing’s okay. Because he’s so in love it physically hurts. Because you’re sleeping peacefully and trusting him with this little moment, and all he wants is to stay like this forever.

How are you sleeping so peacefully while he’s over here thinking about nothing but how perfect yoh are?

#Wednesday fluff #I just know Satoru would be weird the first night sleeping over #Definitely sniffs a few things #And touches all your things #Satoru #Gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #Satoru x reader #Gojo satoru x reader #Gojo fluff #Satoru fluff #satoru gojo x reader

10K notes · View notes

telephoniii · 7 months ago

Text

REALLY…HIM?

☆彡 in which professor trein judges your relationship with the NRC boys

NRC boys x Reader (minus Ortho)

Word Counter: 3K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, Trein is your father figure, established relationship, possible OOC

A/N: life’s getting pretty hectic so i’m sorry if my upload schedule slows down. i hope you enjoy :>

ace trappola

Can’t say he’s surprised, just disappointed. It makes sense; he was one of your first friends. However, that doesn’t make him any less troublesome. Despite being a first-year, Ace is one of the biggest slackers and troublemakers on campus— much to Trein’s dismay. His main worry is that Ace will poorly influence you. He’s already seeing it with the two of you getting a crazy amount of detentions and scoldings for unthinkable reasons. You’ve got it rough already being from another world, you don’t need a devil on your shoulder convincing you to get into all kinds of trouble. It’s a real shame said devil is your boyfriend. He’ll allow the relationship and all will seem swell. Little do you know that he pulled Ace aside and had a long chat.

deuce spade

A fine pick; Trein is neither severely impressed nor disappointed. He doesn’t think Deuce is too bad, but he believes you could do better. Deuce will need to somehow prove himself to Trein. On the outside, Trein looks like he absolutely hates his guts. His eyes are always staring at Deuce with this sharp look and it gets the card soldier real nervous real fast. In reality, it’s just Trein keeping a closer eye on him + his RBF. He’s relatively neutral on the first year, yet Deuce is fully convinced that his professor wants to set him on fire.

cater diamond

Trein is very annoyed with your choice. He doesn’t like Cater’s social media addiction and would much rather have you hit the books than scrolling through Magicam. Not to mention, he feels as though something about Cater’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a facade, and doesn’t trust him around you. Cater finds Trein scary, but he’s not as intimidated as Deuce. As he does with Ace, Trein takes Cater to have a talk, and—surprisingly— his opinions on the third year improve. He doesn’t fully like him, but he’ll tolerate Cater more so than beforehand. Cater also offers to help Trein make a social media account; it’s cute yet chaotic all the same watching them bond.

trey clover

Before Trein can form a solid thought on Trey, the vice housewarden is subtly trying to win his favor. Trey knows how about his father-like connection to you and immediately shapes up. He gifts Trein different pastries and learns which ones he’s partial to. What really wins the professor over is when Trey starts volunteering to help clean his classroom after class. Trein won’t even know the two of you are already together and he’ll make comments around you like, “That Clover boy is real nice…” Needless to say, Trein approves of Trey long before he finds out you both are in a relationship.

riddle rosehearts

Trein immediately scowls when he hears the news of your relationship. You’d think he’d approve due to Riddle’s intellect and dutiful behavior. Admittedly, Trein does like that about Riddle. But he despises the boy’s bursts of anger, finding them childish and unfitting for a future mage. He’s seen the housewarden go berserk on one too many students and doesn’t trust he won’t do the same to you. Trein doesn’t want you walking on eggshells around your own partner. This is another one who’ll have to prove themselves to Trein. Riddle will be upset when he hears of Trein’s low opinion of him, but gets a surge of motivation to convince him otherwise. You’ll find Riddle working even harder on his studies than before you didn’t even think that was possible in hopes of gaining Trein’s favor. He’ll eventually get it. I imagine that Riddle does some small, heroic deed for you that really shows his love, and Trein just so happens to be passing by and sees it. Once your unofficial official father in Twisted Wonderland gets along with Riddle, expect to be nagged about missing assignments and homework a WHOLE LOT.

jack howl

Similar to Trey, he immediately knows about your bond with Trein. Instead of trying to win over the professor, Jack takes a more blunt approach. He goes straight to his desk after class and tells him about your relationship, being upfront about his feelings towards you. Trein respects it. He thinks that Jack has more guts than most on campus and trusts him to protect you. He’s quite supportive of the relationship, acting as a mentor for the both of you. You can catch him watching the two of you with a tiny smile, murmuring something along the lines of, “Young love.” The two of you remind him of his own marriage with his late wife. It makes him sentimental in a way.

ruggie bucchi

A BIG 180 FROM JACK. Trein thinks this guy is sleazy. Ruggie couldn’t care less in the beginning, finding it funny to practically hang off your shoulder while Trein stared daggers into him. Then it started to seep in that it may or may not be important to get Trein’s approval for a long-term relationship with you. That’s when he gets his act together and completely starts sucking up to Trein. He’ll help out with paperwork, errands, cleaning up, etc! All for free! much to his dismay All Ruggie asks for in return is Trein’s support for your relationship. He catches Trein by surprise with how well his work ethic is. The lengths the hyena goes to for you ends up leaving the professor impressed.

leona kingscholar

Professor Trein is both surprised and disappointed. Now how did this happen? He didn't think Kingscholar was capable of being nice to anyone, let alone get into a whole relationship. Well, he bugs you to tell your boyfriend to start showing up to class. He’s not exactly happy with you dating a huge slacker like him, but Trein knows that Leona is a smart boy. Brash and not his first pick, sure, but he wouldn’t play with your heart or rope you into anything stupid. He trusts Kingscholar to protect you. But if he starts seeing you begin to skip class— which is going to happen, Leona’s going to make you do it at least once— he’ll pull YOU aside and give you an earful. Tough love, unfortunately.

floyd leech

Hell no. All the red blaring flags. Now why would you go and do that? Really? Out of EVERYONE? You bet your bottoms Trein is actively speaking out against your relationship every single time he sees you. He doesn't even want to try to talk to Floyd. Trein is convinced you are addicted to getting in trouble and lets out the biggest old man sigh. Is there any way Floyd can win the professor’s favor? Probably not. And if there was a way, would Floyd even do it? Big fat no. Floyd thinks it is hilarious that Professor Trein disapproves, upping his affections around him with that toothy grin of his. And if you guys have a class together that Trein teaches? Chaos. Expect a lot of paper balls to be thrown at you.

jade leech

“Are you okay??” Is the first thing Trein asks when you tell him you and Jade are in a relationship. Doesn't exactly trust the boy, but Jade tends to behave around him. The professor has always seen him being picture-perfect whenever he’s around which is 100% suspicious, but Trein doesn't have any solid reasons to disapprove. Jade, like his brother, finds the whole situation very amusing. He’s always figuring out new ways to appear like the ‘ideal boyfriend’ to Trein. If he ever talks to the professor he’ll slip in a comment like, “I never disappoint, trust me” and it makes Trein distrust him even more.

azul ashengrotto

Now what bet did you lose for this to have happened? At least Ashengrotto is a star student, you need to hang out around more of those in his opinion. After confirming that, “No, no bet was lost,” and “No, he’s not paying for my love,” Trein was pretty alright with it. The Monstro Lounge is a student-ran organization, it's clear from that the young boy is capable and responsible. He just keeps a very, very close eye on you two. The last thing Trein wants is for Azul to take advantage of you since— knowing him— he seems like the type to do so. Expect frequent questions of “How’s your relationship going?” and “He’s treating you right, right?” Azul is going to get asked to stay after class to talk. Trein then proceeds to threaten lecture him on how to properly treat your lover. He just wants to make sure you don't get wrapped up in one of those contracts he’s heard about. Azul has quite the track record.

kalim al asim

Automatically assumes you’re dating him for the money and begins to ramble about how you should marry for love. Tells you about his late wife and how much he loved her— it is so sweet I'm actually crying. That's the kind of love he wants you to have. You’ve got to reassure him that, “Yes, my certified father figure, I do love him very much and I’m not just in it for the money.” After that talk, he finds the relationship sweet but kind of concerning. Kalim is a nice boy but severely naive and, frankly, incompetent. Trein starts to go a little harder on Kalim in class, not that he was going easy anyway. He scrutinizes the essays he turns in and chastises him for missing an assignment. As he watches you kiss Kalim on the cheek after getting an A, Trein can only sigh and think, “He’s lucky he’s rich.”

jamil viper

Trein’s pretty okay with him. He’s a level-headed guy with passable grades and the title of a vice housewarden. However, the professor did hear about his Overblot and does think that there's more beneath the surface. He doesn't judge him for his Overblot, no. But Trein does keep a closer eye on him to make sure he isn't scheming anything involving you. The professor also tries to push him to do better academically. He’s heard from you about how smart Jamil truly is and can see his potential, so he tries to get him to stop holding back. Jamil is a little appreciative of it and respects Trein as your father figure, but still isn't a fan of sticking out. Nor does he plan on giving into Trein’s attempts.

epel felmier

Is fine with the relationship at first. He was polite, soft-spoken, and a part of Pomfiore. Most students belonging to that dorm are pompous, but respectful nonetheless. Then Epel’s true nature comes out and Trein is constantly reprimanding him for horseplay. It's kinda funny how surprised Trein is by Epel’s country toughness. The professor definitely had his suspicions— nobody at NRC is innocent, he’s learned every student here has some sort of dark side— but he definitely wouldn't have expected this. A part of Trein actually prefers him like this. You are dating someone with a backbone who will defend you. He encourages Epel to be himself around him, promising a judgment-free area. They get along pretty well surprisingly, with Trein being a sort of mentor to him. Overall, very sweet and Trein approves.

rook hunt

In the most blunt way possible, Trein tells you, “Your boyfriend weirds me out.” He thinks Rook is an oddball for sure. No way around it. Is half convinced Rook is stalking him. Because he is. When you explained to your boyfriend about the bond you had with Professor Trein, he got way too intrigued and ended up ‘watching’ Trein like he does to Leona. It's not until the professor makes a passing comment about being paranoid that he’s being watched that you realized, “Oh shit my boyfriends stalking you.” You don't say that to him— you don't want Rook getting in trouble. So you settle on having a really long talk with Rook about it who reassures you he’d never disturb your father figure or the absolutely beautiful bond between the two of you. He still worries you sometimes when he goes missing and randomly reappears by walking out of Trein’s classroom.

vil schoenheit

Trein worries that Vil won’t make the time for you. He’s aware that Schoenheit is a busy boy as he’s missed his class plentiful in the past. He’ll make Vil stay after class for a little to talk to him about it, giving him a fatherly warning about being ready to fully commit to a relationship and the time it takes to manage one. Vil is, admittedly, insulted that Trein doubts his ability to wholeheartedly love you but takes it in stride. He sees this as a sign to up his game in the romance department and properly does so, dedicating more time to pampering you. The professor expresses his concerns to his coworker, Crewel, who talks his ear off about how much of a “good pup” Vil is and that he won't disappoint. Trein can’t help but agree when he spots you walking into class looking more freshened with slight makeup on and a new hair-do that Vil definitely did for you.

idia shroud

Once you break the news to Trein, he immediately asks to meet with Idia one-on-one. The blue-haired student rarely shows up to class! And that iPad isn't going to cut it forever! He needs to be able to size him up in person. Idia, naturally, is scared to death. At first, he immediately declines, insisting that they don't really need to meet up, the whole idea is stupid, and it’ll be fine if he stays right there in his room. Then you sit down with him and tell him how important Trein is to you and… sigh You landed a natural 20 on the dice of persuasion. Idia can’t believe he's doing this. You’re beside him the whole time as he stutters in front of Trein. Is Trein impressed? No, not at all. Yet your confidence in the Shroud and constant praise is reassuring. The professor’s going to make you force Idia into showing up in person in class. His attendance rivals Leona's.

sebek zigvolt

Doesn't really care for Sebek despite the first year's desperate attempts at trying to impress him. Sebek lost him after he started talking about Malleus when Trein asked about you. Ever since then, it’s just been him trying to win him back to no prevail. Kinda sad to watch. He’ll be the biggest gentleman ever: rushing to doors to open them for Trein, scrubbing his whole classroom for him from top to bottom, and yelling at other students to be quiet— though he was pretty much doing that before you two even got together. But every time Sebek gets close to winning the professor’s favor, he ends up going on a tangent about how amazing his liege is, and we're back at square one. You’ve got to rub him on the back and kiss him on the cheek while telling him, “Trein will come around one day!” Even if that day never comes.

silver

Not a fan. He’s witnessed Silver fall asleep in his class one too many times and thinks it's disrespectful. Once you tell Silver, he’s upset as it's not exactly something he can change, but will put in extra effort not only in Trein’s class but in all his classes. He studies with you beside him so you can prevent him from falling asleep when you see him get all drowsy-eyed. Trein immediately takes note of Silver’s hard work and grit as the boy passes his class with flying colors while asking if there’s anything he could do to help him after hours. It's only when he hears from his fellow teachers that Silver has been doing exceptionally well is he actually impressed. Afterwards, Trein will start being more understanding of Silver’s constant sleeping. He won't be any less strict, but he won’t lay into him for it as hard as before since learning it's out of Silver’s control. Trein thinks rather positively of your relationship, comparing it to the ones in the fairytales.

lilia vanrouge

A bit disturbed, to say the least. Lilia is older than him after all. Trein tried to keep a close eye on the two of you, but Lilia always caught him and pursued a staring match. Trein was always the first to look away. Lilia finds it entertaining. He tries to play tiny tricks on the professor, but you stop him at the very last minute. You sit down and try to explain that you deeply care about Trein and, by extension, what Trein thinks of him. Lilia proceeded to suggest that he brings Trein some cookies to win him over to which you immediately say no. Honestly, I don’t see Trein really ever warming up to Lilia. He just pretends the old bat doesn't exist and isn't your boyfriend. Lilia finds that incredibly funny while you're dying inside.

malleus draconia

The fact you were able to get close to the Draconia is an impressive feat to Trein. However, future ruler of Briar Valley or not, he intends to make sure that Malleus treats you right. Right when you tell Malleus that Trein is basically your father, the fae goes straight to the professor, confesses to him about your relationship, and swears to take good care of you with this ominous tone. Trein isn’t very fond of Malleus at first, struggling to decipher whether or not that introduction was genuine. It isn't until you go to him after class, gushing about the late-night walk you went on with Malleus yesterday and shoving cute little polaroid photos in his face does Trein begin to trust the fae. He makes sure to scold you for not being asleep at that time, yes, but he stares at one of the photographs for way too long, imagining you and Malleus as him and his late wife for a moment. A small smile appears on his face. However, he can’t help but think that the two of you are down a similar path; the happiest marriage ever, kids, and one lover outliving the other. A tragedy, but he’ll let you enjoy it while it lasts just like he did. As long as you’re happy.

9K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 6 days ago

Text

✶ — DON'T WORRY, BABY !

summary: you and johnny are tasked with babysitting franklin for the evening, and it comes with a lot more revelations than either of you expected. (6.8k words)

pairing: johnny storm / f!reader

contents: established relationship, domestic bliss, lots of fluff, cw for swearing, mentions of having children, smut 18+ ft. fem receiving oral, dirty talk, slightly dom!johnny but also sub!johnny because obviously, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mdni!!

Johnny Storm best describes himself in tenses: previous most eligible bachelor on earth, current protector of the universe, future father to your children. He makes the stubborn argument that it can’t be arrogant if it’s a statement of fact, which he’d made abundantly clear the day you met.

“Future husband, huh?” you echoed beneath the pulsing bass of the discotheque. The Doors blared overhead, making it virtually impossible to hear anything that wasn’t shouted directly into your ear. You used that as an excuse to stay close to the pretty stranger, who’d only just introduced himself to you — “Hi, I’m Johnny Storm,” he grinned and shook your hand. “I’m the man you’re gonna marry.”

Smoke billowed from your mouth as you smiled up at the blonde boy, bathed in flickering neon hues. “And what makes you so sure, Johnny Storm?”

“I can see the future,” he quipped and plucked the cigarette from your fingertips.

“Oh, yeah?” you lilted. The boy nodded wordlessly in response, cheeks hollow around the stick as he took a brief hit from it. He fought back a cough, and your smokey eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Alright, then, Johnny Storm… What happens next?”

“I follow you into that crowd,” he answered, pink mouth curled into a shy, lopsided smile. “And I actually start to believe in love at first sight.”

Your fingers brushed when he passed back the cigarette. His hands were made of softer stuff than most men his age, smoother than silk and warmer than velvet. A primal part of your brain instinctively concocted a plan to touch him again.

“And what about me?” you asked and took a lengthy drag.

“You let me take a taxi with you back to your place at the end of the night… You don’t let me in, but you do tell me to meet you for coffee the next morning.”

“Did future me happen to mention Dolly’s Diner?”

“She did, actually,” Johnny nodded with wide ocean eyes, rainbow lights shining in his flaxen locks like a neon halo. He crossed his strong arms over his chest, and his biceps strained against the jacket sleeves. “She specifically mentioned Dolly’s Diner at 8 a.m.—”

“Nine,” you corrected with a knowing half-smile.

“Nine.”

“Well, then, Johnny Storm… I guess we’ll see.”

You handed the stranger the dwindling cig as you walked past him. He didn’t try to stop you when you headed towards the light-up dance floor, where all your friends waited for you on the other side. You made it to the very edge of the flashing neon squares before you turned to look at him over your shoulder. He lingered in place with the half-gone cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, pretty features twisted in a puppy-like pout.

“Well, future-boy?” you called to him. “You comin’ or what?”

Johnny Storm, you soon realized, was a lot of things. Confident, chaotic, and occasionally hotheaded — but a liar wasn’t one of them. His brazen introduction as your future husband wasn’t just a clumsy way of flirting with you, but a promise. And, somewhere down the line, you became Mrs. Storm; and Johnny was the smug sonofabitch who accidentally told the future.

Sometimes, he worries that he may possess certain powers beyond the pyrogenesis kind. That something deep in his brain can actually predict the future, and did somehow manipulate you into falling in love with him that night. As far as he’s concerned, it’s the only plausible reason for your being here.

How else could he have gotten you to wear his ring on your finger? Or sleep in the noisy headquarters of Manhattan that he also shares with the rest of his superpowered family? Or be excited about spending the night babysitting his nephew, over the billion other (arguably more interesting) things you could be doing?

Johnny met you as a party girl in a small dress and go-go boots, full of smiles and wit and cunning. You’re all of those things still, but also his wife. So, yeah, either he is far more powerful than he realizes, or he’s just too lucky for his own damn good.

As Sue and Reed exit their shared bedroom, having finally traded their baggy, milk-stained sweats for fancier dinnerwear, Johnny looks down and realizes you’re wearing those same boots from that night. The white vinyl of them zips up to your mid-calf; the platform heel is slightly worn from constant use. You’ve paired them this time with a patent matching skirt and a black turtleneck — still the same girl from all those years ago, just a little more mature and a lot more loved by him.

Reed’s voice knocks Johnny out of his own head. He shrugs on a pin-striped suit jacket and rambles, “The number to the restaurant and the hotel is on the fridge. Call there if you need anything, alright? I mean it. Anything—”

“Anything,” Johnny echoes with a nod from where he sits between you and Franklin at the dining table.

He digs a pale fist into the box of Lucky Charms in his lap and shoves a handful of dry cereal into his mouth. He exhibits the same sort of gracelessness Franklin does in his high chair, mashing at the chopped banana before him rather than actually eating it.

“Not unless there’s an emergency, obviously,” Sue corrects, half-distracted, with her hands beneath her platinum locks to clasp her necklace. She pairs her mid-length, boatneck dress with the silver F pendant she wears in honor of her baby boy. “If he gets really fussy and nothing can calm him down, just try playing the Beach Boys— He loves that.”

“You know where we keep the breast milk, right?” Reed wonders aloud, anxious hands struggling with his cufflinks. Johnny nods, but the man answers himself anyway. “They’re in packets in the freezer, so just heat ‘em up if he gets hungry. They’re in the exact right amounts, okay? I made sure of that, so make sure you only use one—”

Sue sweeps in then, fastening his silver cuffs for him with steadier hands. “We already fed and changed him, so he should be good to go until tonight.”

Reed flashes a pair of pleading brown eyes over his wife’s shoulder, brows pinched in a pained sort of look. “I’d prefer if you’d just call, though. Every hour on the hour, ideally. Just so I know he’s okay.”

Sue’s icy gaze hardens playfully over her shoulder at the two of you. “Absolutely do not do that,” she instructs with an amused smile.

Johnny blinks like an owl, ocean eyes darting between his older sister and her husband, who he’s only just starting to care for. “I… Don’t know who I’m supposed to listen to.”

“Me,” Sue and Reed respond simultaneously.

“It’s Sue,” Ben answers as he stomps across the kitchen, in a pair of khakis he’s paired with a navy sweater vest and a matching baseball cap. (Ms. Rozman complimented the outfit once, and he never quite let it go.) “It’s always Sue.”

He chuckles at the half-hearted glare he gets from Reed and presses the button for the elevator with a large, calloused finger. The doors ding, and he steps inside — broad shoulders taking up the majority of the narrow space.

“Dinner’s on the stove, kids,” Ben tells you and Johnny as he hits the switch for the bottom floor.

“Thanks, Benny!” you call to him when the doors of the lift start to shut.

He shouts back, “Don’t forget!”

Reed and Sue share a quiet look then. “Ready?” he murmurs quietly to her. The older woman takes a deep breath in and nods wordlessly. They’ve saved the world together a thousand times over, yet you don’t think you’ve seen them look as worried as they are right now.

“We’ll call if there’s an emergency. I promise,” you assure them. “But there won’t be because Franklin is, quite literally, the perfect baby.”

The boy babbles in his high chair next to Johnny, utterly enraptured in his smushed bananas. He reaches across his uncle and out towards you with a tiny arm, offering you the piece of fruit enclosed in his chubby fist.

“For me?” you lilt in a small voice. “Thank you, Frankie…”

You lean down towards him and pretend to eat it. You make a quiet num, num, num sound that makes Franklin grin with all of his two bottom teeth.

Johnny’s pink lips curl into an absentminded smile as he watches you with his nephew, always so effortless in the way you care for him, like you were made to do it.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure between the two of us and the Beach Boys, we can handle it,” Johnny shrugs, then flashes you a blue, button-eyed look. “Right?”

You nod once with a tight-lipped smile. “Right.”

Reed and Sue leave with a smacking kiss pressed to their son’s chubby cheeks. They enter the elevator side by side and press the button for the main floor. “Try not to burn the place down while we’re gone,” Reed begs, only partly joking.

Sue smiles with an arched brow. “Literally.”

The double doors of the lift close before them.

Only when the parents are out of sight do you and Johnny exhale the pair of wavering breaths you didn’t even know you were holding. Franklin continues his babbling, playing with the mashed bananas on his high-chair table, while the two of you share semi-anxious looks.

“We can handle this, right?” Johnny wonders aloud, itching for an ounce of reassurance.

The two of you have looked after Franklin a thousand times before, during bathroom breaks and grocery trips and ninety-minute children’s movies, but never for a whole night. And never without Ben Grimm, the usual designated babysitter, more than one story away.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “We’ve done it before, kind of… What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, you soon realize, is everything.

And it happens far sooner than you expect.

You and Johnny lay Baby Franklin down for tummy time and get immediately enraptured in watching the boy experience the world on his stomach. So much so that you completely disregard the pasta Ben left simmering for you on the stove, which he blatantly told you not to forget.

The blonde boy sniffs once. “Do you smell smoke?” he asks.

“I think that’s just you, fire-boy,” you scoff.

Then the smoke alarm blares. The beep, beep, beeping is faint and faraway, but it startles Franklin nonetheless. The boy screams — a loud, teary, and grating scream — that’s a whole lot louder than the siren that had scared him to begin with.

While you rush to the kitchen to remove the smoking pan from the hot stove, Johnny scoops up his disgruntled nephew and brings him to his chest. He tries to soothe Franklin with one hand and start the record player with the other. With careful work, the Beach Boys crackle suddenly to life.

“—For I have the warmth of the sun…” the speaker croons. “Within me at night…”

It does little to quell Franklin’s screaming, despite his sister’s past assurance that it would. It’s entirely likely that he can’t hear the music over his pained shrieking, which pierces Johnny like a knife to the chest just now.

The blonde boy paces the length of the living room, bouncing the crying kid in his arms. Tears stream down his round, red cheeks in fat droplets that leave a dark stain on Johnny’s white t-shirt.

“Why isn’t it working?” Johnny strains through gritted teeth, hardly audible over the music and the subsequent screaming.

“It’s probably not the right song,” you answer, running past him in a flash and ducking for Ben’s record player. The record scratches faintly when you lift the needle from the vinyl.

“Not the right song?” he echoes incredulously, blinking at you with a pair of wide cerulean eyes. “He’s five months old, babe— He’s barely sentient. He can’t have a favorite song—”

You shift the arm slightly before setting it back in place. The needle hits the grooves of the record with a faint hiss. The music resumes again. “—Something’s bound to go wrong… But she looks in my eyes… And makes me realize…”

Franklin’s cries quieten instantly at the familiar music. He seems to forget, in that instance, what he’d been crying about in the first place. His pink mouth juts in a dramatic pout as he blinks up at his uncle with a pair of big, wet eyes.

Johnny grins down at him.

“Oh… Is that it? Huh?” the blonde boy coos, swaying the baby in his strong arms. He runs a wide palm up the length of his small back, and Franklin lets out a quiet hum of contentment. “You have a favorite song after all, don’t ya?”

The baby lets out a series of unintelligible babbles as you migrate to Johnny’s side. You rest your head on the boy’s broad shoulder, chest pressed to the outside of his bicep, while you run a gentle hand over the back of Franklin’s head. His still-growing tuft of dark chocolate curls is softer than cotton against your palm.

Franklin grins wide despite the tears still clinging to his round cheeks. Two tiny teeth poke from his bottom gums while his mouth opens and closes in unpracticed motions. He hums faint gibberish that you can’t quite understand, though it’s strangely in time with the crooning from the record player behind him.

“—Everything will turn out alright… Don’t worry, baby…”

It makes you laugh. “Are you singing, silly boy?”

Franklin’s babbling grows in volume at the acknowledgment.

He jerks in his uncle’s hold, tiny limbs failing with an excitement too big for his body. He reaches towards Johnny’s face, for the short flaxen strands just behind his ear. He wrenches the hair there into a tiny, unforgiving fist, and Johnny lets him. This raucous excitement is a lot easier on his heart than the screaming from before.

“Screw superpowers,” Johnny laughs, grimacing slightly when Franklin gives the strands a particularly hard tug. “We’ve got the next Beach Boy on our hands.”

His blue eyes glint with mirth when he turns his head to face you. The tip of his nose nearly grazes yours at the dwindling proximity between you. He kisses you instinctively then, pressing his smiling lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

Johnny’s eyes flutter shut. His long lashes dance over the tops of his flushed cheeks. In that fleeting moment, he feels a strange jerking at his chest.

The stars just beginning to speckle outside the floor-to-ceiling windows seem to align in that very instance. With you pressed so ardently to his side, and with Franklin still squirming in his hold, he feels a strange sense of nostalgia that he knows he shouldn’t. It’s strikingly familiar to him, but foreign all the same.

He gets a faint glimpse of his future then — of you and him and a baby, his baby — that he grieves when you pull suddenly away from him.

“You okay?” you murmur at the pinched look on the boy’s pretty face.

Johnny nods, still swaying softly with Franklin against his chest. “I think I just saw the future…” he tells you, playfully solemn as his brows raise to his hairline.

“Oh, yeah?” you hum, caging your bottom lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to hide your smile.

“Mhm… And if I’m right, which let’s be real, I am right,” the blonde boy quips, only halfway joking. “Then… I’m gonna give you a baby.”

You meet his knowing grin with a deadpanned look. “Like, you’re gonna steal one off the street, or…?’

“I was thinking maybe we just kidnap Franklin or something,” he shrugs.

“Oh. Totally,” you hum with a slow nod. “I’m sure that won’t have any repercussions at all.”

Your gaze glitters with amusement despite the faux-serious look on your face. You couldn’t hide the way you feel for Johnny if you tried. You seem to carry all your love for him in your eyes. You think you always have. And Johnny sees it, too.

“I mean it, though,” he tells you. “I can see the future you, you know?”

“Oh, trust me,” you scoff. “I know.”

“So just… Prepare to have a baby soon.”

“How soon?”

When Johnny’s pink lips curl into a cheeky half-smile, you know he’s up to no good. He cradles Franklin’s bottom with one palm and smooths the other over the baby’s profile, cupping one ear and pinning the other to his chest.

“Tonight, if I’m lucky,” he quips in a low whisper.

Your face screws, and he laughs.

“You’re incorrigible.”

Franklin, now perfectly content, squirms like a wild little thing in your lap. With his chubby fist in his gummy mouth, he gapes incredulously at the black-and-white television across the room. As his aunt, you felt it was your duty to start him on chick-flicks while he’s still young. Tonight’s choice being Roman Holiday. He’s as enthralled by the moving picture as any baby would be, so you consider it a job well done.

You hold him carefully by the waist while he bounces up and down on your thighs. “Can you say Gregory Peck?” you coo in the baby’s ear, who responds with his own sort of gibberish. You repeat, slower this time, “Greg-ory… Peck…?”

Johnny laughs from where he stands in the kitchen.

The apartment has gone slowly dim with the late evening, lit only by rogue lamplight and the flickering television. He can just barely see your profiles from here, across the expansive apartment, where you and Frankie cuddle in the conversation pit.

“You are aware the kid’s basically a future genius, right?” Johnny laughs with a frozen pack of breast milk in hand. His palm glows a faint red color as the milk turns slowly into liquid. He pours the freshly warmed drink into a glass bottle and continues, “So if his first words turn out to be my sister’s first ever crush, Reed’ll have an actual aneurysm.”

“Sue and I are colluding to get Franklin to say ‘momma’ first, actually. And he’s almost got it, don’t ya, Frankie?” You grunt quietly as you spin the heavy baby in your hold. You grin instinctively when he faces you. “Can you say momma?” you coo to him. “Mom-ma?”

Franklin just babbles to himself, ‘cause he can’t seem to make the m sound quite yet. He just drools onto his onesie instead. You’re wiping the dribble from his chin with his bib when Johnny returns with the bottle.

“Here ya go,” the boy lilts.

“Thank you, honey—” you say, huffing as you shift Franklin in your arms once more. You cradle him in your lap and contort your limbs to check the temperature of the milk on your wrist.

Johnny’s face contorts in offense. He props his hands on his slim waist and frowns. “I tested it already, babe. It’s not hot.”

You look at the boy over your shoulder, eyes narrowed in a challenging squint. “You tested it on your skin?” you deadpan.

The blonde boy nods in response.

“Which has been known to be actively set on fire from time to time?”

Johnny thinks to himself for a moment, lips jutted and blue eyes flitted towards the ceiling.

“Exactly,” you giggle and turn away with the roll of your eyes.

Franklin grabs the bottle in a pair of strangely aggressive hands but still struggles to hold it on his own. You keep it propped up for him while he scarfs down his dinner. Johnny, meanwhile, descends the steps of the conversation pit and plops onto the plush sofa beside you. He sits with his legs spread and his arm thrown along the back of it. You melt instantly into his warmth.

While Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck slow dance to an unfamiliar song on the small, staticky screen across the way, Johnny feels a strange tugging at his chest.

“You know…” he starts with a sigh, cheek squished into your hair. “I think I could do this every day.”

“Watch Franklin?” you respond, half-distracted.

“Well, yeah, but… I mean, if we had our own kid, you know? I think we could do it.”

You turn your head slowly, half-expecting to find him wearing a cheeky sort of grin. Instead, you see something strangely sincere swimming in his round, ocean eyes as they flit back and forth between yours.

A laugh sputters from your lips before you can help it. “You haven’t even changed any diapers yet, Johnny—”

“I have!” he argues, wearing a pout that resembles his nephew’s.

“Or lost out on sleep for days because of sleep regression. Or because the baby’s gassy. Or colic—”

“I’m just saying we could handle it. That’s all,” Johnny shrugs with a shy smile. “There’s no one else I’d rather lose sleep with. Or change diapers with… Or clean up baby puke with.”

You falter for a moment.

It’s a more mature admission of love than you think you were expecting.

When Johnny approached you that sacred night in the smoky, neon dance hall — with the bold assurance that he would some day marry you — you figured you were just the prettiest, glittering thing that caught his eye. And you were okay with that, even more so when he started to love you for real. Far more than either of you was expecting.

Then you got married, and life got a little bigger. The laundry day, joint taxes, and choosing whose TV show gets watched on Wednesday nights, kind of bigger. Somewhere therein, you started to realize what it truly meant to love someone.

Love wasn’t always the prettiest glittering thing. Sometimes love was ugly. And that’s when it was best.

“How romantic…” you deadpan in response, lest you give away the warmth surging in your chest. But then you lean in to kiss him, chaste but lingering still, and Johnny feels all of it anyway.

He takes the empty bottle from Franklin’s tiny hands a moment later. You bring the boy to your chest, patting softly at his back for a few minutes more until his body jerks with a small hiccup. Johnny then laughs at the screwed look of concentration on his tiny features.

“What’s that face for, huh?” the blonde boy chuckles.

He inhales once and answers his own question.

The two of you wear similar looks of vague disgust at the baby’s obviously full diaper. You pass the full-bellied boy off to his uncle. “Here you go…” you mutter, half-strained as you hold your breath.

“Oh, god…” Johnny huffs in response, keeping Franklin at arm’s length as he rushes down the hall and towards the nursery. He hears your pretty laughter following him as he goes.

“I owe you one!”

Franklin’s nursery overlooks the Manhattan city skyline. The floor-to-ceiling window makes stars out of the yellow-lit buildings sparkling outside, like a personal nightlight for the sleeping baby.

You lean against the door frame while Johnny rocks his nephew in his arms. Your eyes follow his towering shadow as he paces the length of the dim, lamplight room. Franklin whines, trying hopelessly to fight his much-needed slumber. His attempts prove to be fruitless, though, when his uncle starts to sing.

“She told me, ‘Baby, when you race today, just take along my love with you…’” Johnny croons quietly, voice low and only slightly off-key. “‘And if you knew how much I love you, baby, nothing could go wrong with you…’”

Franklin doesn’t last long like that — not pressed to his uncle’s warm chest, swaying gently in his strong arms, listening to his most favorite song. Sleep lulls finally over him no more than a few minutes later, and Johnny makes the transfer into his crib with ease.

Franklin doesn’t move an inch when you slink out of the room with the baby monitor in tow. Johnny shuts the creaking door behind him, leaving it slightly ajar and exhaling a relieved breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You stand facing each other in the dim hallway, lit only by the kitchen light down the way. Half of your face is softened with dark shadows as you smile up at the boy. “You’re a real natural, you know that?”

“You are, too…” Johnny grins, pulling you closer by the belt loops of your skirt. Even in the dark, you can see the amused glimmer in his light eyes. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” he murmurs quietly.

The bridge of your nose scrunches in response. “That it’s really late, and we should probably eat something before we starve to death?”

The non-answer only makes him smile wider.

“Yeah, I think I could go for something to eat…” His voice trails as he ducks down for your neck. He presses a warm, wet kiss just over your pulse. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you when his tongue darts out to taste the skin there.

“Johnny?” you sigh, eyes fluttered shut.

“Mhm?” he hums into your skin.

“You… are incorrigible—”

You push him away with a pair of half-hearted hands against his chest. Johnny wraps his fingers around your wrists to pull you gently back into him, anyway. His pink lips are noticeably rosier and slick with his spit when he asks, “How about we compromise, hm? I make you something to eat— without burning it this time, hopefully— and then you give me something to eat, too.”

You meet his smug grin with squinted eyes. “We’re supposed to be watching your nephew, Johnny—”

“He’s your nephew, too, you know? And he’s passed out until morning… The others won’t be back ’til then anyway, so…” He trails off with his brows raised in a playful look. “You owe me one, remember?”

You give in far quicker than Johnny expects.

“Well, then you better get to cookin’, fire-boy,” you monotone, poking him hard in the chest. “’Cause I’m not doing anything on an empty stomach.”

Johnny abides without question. It’s in his nature to obey you, and to keep you full — all in more ways than one.

So it’s only right that you keep your promise, too.

You christen the guest room on the Richards’ hall. Johnny tells you that Sue and Reed wouldn’t mind — that they’d much rather prefer it if you stayed on the same floor as Franklin, rather than a story above where your bedroom sits. You lie in the center of the foreign king-sized bed, as half-naked as the boy above you, while Johnny kisses down your body.

“I think they’d prefer it if we kept our hands to ourselves, actually,” you correct with a pretty laugh, staring down your body at the boy disappearing beneath the covers.

You run your fingers through his short, blonde locks when he presses a searing, wet kiss to your bare stomach. His warm fingers curl under the hem of your panties, sliding them slowly to the side.

“I mean, you are capable of that, aren’t you?”

Johnny’s mouth drools at the sight of your similarly weeping cunt, made of silk and honey. He looks at you from beneath his long lashes, blue eyes dark and dilated with lust. “Do you want me to be?” he murmurs lowly.

The warm breath of his whisper fans across your pussy. It clenches around nothing accordingly, waiting and pleading for his mouth.

You roll your eyes at him despite all that. “Get to work, fire-boy—”

His mouth latches immediately to your cunt. Your quip dissolves into a pitiful whimper when his tongue lolls over your clit. You keep one hand curled in his hair and the other gripping desperately at the silk sheets, trying fruitlessly to keep yourself tethered while Johnny sucks the sin from your body.

He kisses your pussy the way he would your mouth, tongue sloppy and languid against you. He makes a total mess of your thighs and his mouth and the bed sheets below you. His fingertips dig bruises into the plush skin as he laps at you, savoring the honey you leak for him.

He works until his jaw aches, until his neck burns from the harsh angle, until he feels your thighs trembling on either side of his face.

“I’m gonna cum” you squeak suddenly above him. Beneath his low grunts, which send gentle vibrations to your swollen clit, he hears you exhale pretty little whimpers for him. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna cum—”

Johnny makes no mention of how quickly your orgasm finds you. There is no snide remark or smug brag from the silver-tongued boy. His lips just curl into a proud smile against the velvety lips of your cunt, right before his mouth wraps around your sensitive button. He sucks mercilessly there until your hips buck off the bed — until your pulsing hole drools for him and a choked-back scream rises and dies in your throat.

He kisses away the remains of your orgasm until you’re pushing him away. Then he rises to his knees above you — cheeks flushed, lips rosy, chin shining with your cum. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans down over you, blue eyes lidded and glazed over.

“God, baby, I need to fuck you,” he slurs in a low murmur.

You smile deliriously at the ceiling when his mouth locks on your pulse point. His teeth graze over the skin there while you curl your arms around his neck. “Watching me with a baby got you this worked up, huh?” you tease — though judging by the swiftness of your previous orgasm, you’re hardly in a position to talk.

“You get me worked up all the time,” Johnny mumbles into your skin, before dragging his tongue over the bite mark blooming on your neck. “You’re gonna be the death of me at this rate—”

You hardly get a breath in before Johnny’s kissing the air from your lungs, licking fervently into your parted mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, a foreign sort of salty-sweetness stained on his lips. With his elbows propped on either side of your head, he cages you beneath the weight of his hungry mouth and golden body. Your nails dig into his freckled shoulders to pull him impossibly closer.

He grumbles a dramatic groan of disappointment against you a second later. Your swollen, spit-slick mouths part with a quiet smack.

“Shit…” Johnny huffs. “I left my wallet in the living room—”

Your legs wrap around his slim waist when he threatens to roll off of you. His pinched look of confusion is met with your devilish grin.

“I— I gotta get a condom, babe…” he stammers.

“You can’t exactly fuck a baby into me with a condom on, can you, Johnny?” you lilt with an air of feigned innocence, fingers twirling at the blonde curls at the nape of his neck.

Johnny huffs, like your words have physically knocked the breath out of him. He exhales hard through his nose as his lips quirk into a love-drunk smile. “See what I mean? You’re gonna kill me, baby—”

He’s kissing you again before he can properly get the words out, fueled with a primal sort of hunger that makes not touching your borderline unbearable.

It’s all tongue and teeth. Sloppy and nothing short of ravenous. He bothers not to drag his underwear down his legs, lest he have to part from you for more than a moment. Instead, he tucks the hem of them under his balls before jerking his stiff cock in his fist.

“Want this?” Johnny pants against your mouth. “Want me to fuck you?”

You nod wordlessly, throwing your head back when he drags the weeping, strawberry tip of his cock over your glimmering pussy.

He smiles crookedly down at you as he presses, “Need to hear you say it, baby, c’mon.”

“Fuck me, Johnny,” you plead in a breathless whisper, head back and eyes shut. “Fuck me, Johnny, please—”

And Johnny does what he always does. He obeys you without question, sliding within the velvety walls of your shuddering cunt with a practiced sort of precision.

You share sharply inhaled breaths when he’s sheathed fully inside of you — balls pressed to your ass, coarse thatch of hair above his cock grating your soft clit. His thrusts are painfully languid, and measured in a way that drives you wild.

“Please, go faster,” you beg against the shell of his ear. “Please. I need it…”

He shushes you gently. “Just let me make you feel good, baby…” he slurs into your neck. “Let me hit that spot…”

He rocks his hips, tilting them slowly forward until he hits somewhere deep inside of you. Only when you make a pretty noise for him does he creep back out again. He never pulls all the way out of you, just keeps your hips caged beneath his own until the pressure on your clit makes you keen.

You wrap your legs around his hips with a choked-back whimper, heels crossed and digging into the base of his spine. Your cunt suckles him further inside as the angle shifts. Johnny grumbles a moan into your neck.

“Oh, yeah— There you go…” Johnny praises, tucking his fingers into the curve of your waist as he sits back on his haunches.

His golden wedding band presses against your burning skin and glitters in the low lamplight. Yours does the same, small diamond glinting where you fist at the silk sheets.

The measured, unhurried rocking of his hips never ceases. A feeble whine sounds in your throat. His praise makes you as dizzy as his cock, and he knows it. “Yeah? You like that?” Johnny grins.

You nod, hair wild on the pillow.

“What happened to all that mouth you had before, huh?” Johnny pants, smiling deliriously at your fucked-out face. “You don’t have anything else to say? Huh?”

You only moan in response. He knows you don’t have the words to answer him. He knows he’s fucking you far too stupid for any of that.

“No…. You just wanna cum, don’t you? Want me to fuck a baby into you?” Johnny continues to tease despite his own breathlessness. You nod again, pussy fluttering around his twitching cock. He has to remind himself to breathe. “Then cum for me.”

The thread at the pit of your stomach snaps at his permission. Your body tenses underneath him — legs trembling around his hips, nails digging crescent shapes in his shoulders. There’s a fleeting moment of numbness when your cunt clenches tightly around him. It ebbs into a more blinding, white-hot pleasure a second later when you cum for him, leaking around his cock and onto the bed sheets below you.

Johnny’s not far behind.

You watch his orgasm roll over him through fluttering lashes. His jaw clenches, his neck tenses, his flushed chest heaves with heavy breaths.

He always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He likes to play dominant from time to time, likes the rare moments when he gets to tear you apart. But when his own orgasm crawls up his spine, he loses all of that bawdy confidence from before and leans back over you again.

Johnny cages you beneath his warm weight and the mattress while his thrusts go messy and erratic. He buries each of his pathetic whines and whimpers into your sweat-slick shoulder, babbling a string of nothingness in your ear.

“Fuck, honey. Oh, fuck— I’m gonna cum— Gonna fuck a baby into you— Shit—”

He punches into you once, hard, and then stills suddenly over your body. His cock jerks within your pulsing confines, spitting three ropes of warm cum inside you. Johnny trembles through every single one of them, slow to relax on top of you.

His golden body, radiating with heat and hunger, softens over yours in time with his sensitive cock. You lay like that for several long moments — sweaty bodies twisted in the sheets, pressed and melting together. The quiet bedroom fills with the sound of your heavy breaths.

“We’re gonna have to wake up early to wash the sheets before they get back,” you whisper to him, breaking the honeyed silence.

Johnny nods against your shoulder until the words catch up to him. “I know…” he sighs.

He rolls off of your body and dissolves onto the mattress below. You waste little time leaving it, mourning his warmth as you squirm out from under the sheets and out of bed. You disappear into the adjoining bathroom, careful to keep your thighs together on the way there to prevent making a bigger mess than you already have.

You spend a few minutes cleaning yourself up, then return to the dim bedroom to toss Johnny a fresh rag for himself.

He wipe your slick away from his stomach, thighs, and still-sensitive cock, while you drag your panties up your legs. He flashes you a shy smirk across the bedroom and pulls his own underwear back over his hips. “Think it took?”

You shrug and pluck his t-shirt from the floor to drape it over your bare body. It just barely covers your ass. “I don’t know… Maybe.”

Johnny props his weight on his arms, sheets still twisted around his waist. His blonde locks are wild from your fingers as he blinks the remnants of bleary pleasure from his glassy ocean eyes.

“We can always keep trying if it doesn’t. We aren’t in a rush… Right?”

“Yeah…” you hum with a quiet grin, eyes glinting with mischief as you take slow steps his way. Johnny throws his legs over the edge of the bed, and you stand between his scruffy thighs. You drag your palms over his burning chest and hum, “The trying part’s pretty fun, actually…”

“You’re telling me,” he scoffs, obediently lifting his chin when you lean down to kiss him.

Your lips lock in something much more chaste and innocuous than before. Until a cry crackles from the baby monitor on the nightstand, anyway. It’s a garbled sort of whine at first, like Franklin’s just annoyed at having woken himself up. Then it turns into a full-blown wail the second he realizes he’s alone.

Neither of you says a word as you part from each other, leaving the sanctuary of the golden-lit bedroom to tend to the crying baby.

You head straight for the nursery while Johnny migrates to the kitchen. He retrieves another packet of milk from the freezer and heats it in his palm, all in practiced motions. He returns to you and his nephew with a fresh bottle in tow and finds you rocking the fussing boy in your arms.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s looking at his future in the flesh.

Franklin takes to the bottle immediately when you give it to him, suckling at the milk like it’s the first and last time he’ll ever get to do it. You keep it angled for him with one arm and cradle him in the other. Johnny stands at your side and wraps his strong, golden ones around you. He keeps you pressed to his warmth as he sways you gently back and forth.

“I hope my sister knows she’s never getting this baby back,” he quips with his cheek pressed to your hair. Your giggling fills the dimly lit nursery, and he grins. “I mean it, babe. He’s ours now.”

You turn your head to flash him an amused look, eyes laced with a quiet sort of exhaustion. “You’re crazy, Johnny Storm, you know that?”

“Crazy for you…” he croons before pressing a smacking kiss to your flushed cheek.

Your subsequent laughter paints the lamplit room in flaxen shades of gold. Something about it pierces him deep in the chest. He loves you so much it hurts.

“How am I supposed to ever give this up, huh?”

“Well, we’ll have our own one day, right?” you ask him, smiling reminiscently at a memory that hasn’t yet happened. “We’ll give Franklin a cousin to run around with… And another baby to annoy Ben all the time.”

Johnny laughs at the thought of your baby climbing over the towering man like a jungle gym, the same way Franklin does. You feel the vibration of his chuckling against your arm. “The big softie,” he scoffs.

You cage your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at the blonde boy behind you. Your eyes go all squishy around the edges as they scan over his features, almost like you’re trying to memorize them.

“I hope our baby looks like you…” you confess in a honeyed whisper.

Johnny warms at the sincerity but hisses through his teeth all the same. “Well, now we’re in a dilemma, honey— ‘Cause I want a baby that looks like you. So… Now what?”

You shrug with a sardonic smile. “Guess that means we just have to keep trying until we get one of each, then, huh?” you lilt, all sarcastic and knowing in a way that makes him grin.

“Dammit, you read my mind.”

if you made it this far: thank you, i love you, and i'm giving you the biggest virtual kiss on the forehead right now!!! (▰˘◡˘▰)

4K notes · View notes