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katsuhera · 4 years

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paranoia

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader tw/warnings: nsfw (18+), dumbification, alcohol, some choking, some degradation, some cockwarming, canon au but not relevant to story, aged up characters (18) wc: 4k

“paranoia, anyone?” kaminari asked, wriggling his eyebrows at the group. tonight was a chill drinking night, celebrating the start to summer vacation.

“ooh! i’m down,” mina exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. you sat in the corner, just blissfully happy and quiet. you hadn’t drunk too much yet, but you could undoubtedly feel a light buzzing coursing throughout your veins, enough to make you just want to sit and recalibrate as everyone else moved animatedly around you.

“what’s that again?” kirishima asked, sipping his drink. “i forgot how to play, i think.”

“okay, okay, wait, let’s all sit in a circle,” kaminari started, waving his hands around. “it’ll be easier that way.”

“tch,” bakugou scoffed, a surly look on his face as kirishima forced him to scoot closer to the rest of the group. “do we have to? this is probably a shitty game.”

“relax, it’s fun, i swear,” mina assured him, her gentle hand on your shoulder encouraging you to scoot in closer as well. “one of my favorite drunk games! i promise.”

“okay, so here’s how we play,” kaminari said. “we go in a circle, like clockwise or counter-clockwise, whatever, and each person whispers a question to whoever’s next to them, and the answer has to be the name of someone in this room.”

“it sounds kind of complicated but you’ll understand once we play,” mina said. “so, for example, i’m sitting next to kirishima – i will ask him a question that only he can hear, like, ‘who has the coolest quirk?’ and he’ll say like ‘todoroki,’ or something, out loud for everyone to hear. and if todoroki wants to know what the question was, he has to take a shot, and then kirishima will expose the question.”

kaminari nodded, adding on: “it goes like that, but usually the questions get… spicy.” he smiled toothily, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint to them. “all questions are fair game! let’s not be mean, though.”

“let me grab some drinks, but you guys can get started!” mina said, getting up and heading off to the kitchen.

you glanced around the circle, giggling inwardly at how dazed iida and some of your other classmates seemed. iida in particular never really got around to drinking much, but when he did, he was predictably a lightweight.

everyone else seemed to be fine and vibing, and you curled your knees into your chest as you got comfortable, waiting for the game to start. drinking games were always fun with your class, especially when mina and the rest of their squad took control.

“who wants to go first?” kaminari asked, looking around.

“i can,” todoroki volunteered quietly, surprising everyone else.

“oh? bet, then go ahead and ask bakugo a question. we’ll go counter-clockwise, then,” kaminari piped up, getting up a little to help mina set the bottles of alcohol and plastic shot glasses down in the middle.

a hushed silence fell over the group as todoroki sat pensively, thinking of a question, before leaning in to bakugou’s grimacing face.

“what a stupid question,” bakugou snickered, and answered without missing a beat. “deku.”

everyone nearly snapped their necks to turn around and look at midoriya.

“do you want to know what the question was?” mina asked.

midoriya shook his head violently. “i think i’m good.”

bakugou sneered before cracking his neck and pausing to think of a question for kirishima.

“hurry up, bro,” kirishima teased, earning a scowl from bakugou.

“shut the fuck up,” he growled, leaning in to whisper his question.

you loved watching their best friend dynamic. bakugou was normally on everyone’s bad side, his antagonizing manner turning most people who met him off from interacting with him ever again. but with the way he interacted with kirishima, you knew that he probably had a softer side that he was either too embarrassed of or insecure to let on.

you felt your cheeks flush as you lost yourself in thought, staring at the redhead and the blonde – well, mostly the blonde, and the way his triceps flexed smoothly as bakugou leaned on his arm to get closer to kirishima.

“what are you staring at?” mina whispered excitedly in your ear. startled, you snapped your head to the side to look at her.

“nothing, nothing,” you murmured, embarrassed. if mina knew, you’d never hear the end of it.

“um...,” kirishima started, his pale cheeks flushed crimson as he prefaced his response to bakugou’s question. his eyes darted worriedly around the circle, lingering for a bit on jirou. “jirou… i think.”

jirou’s head immediately shot up from its cozy spot on kaminari’s shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she looked at kirishima. “shot,” she demanded, eliciting laughs from the group. mina poured one out for her and handed it over, giggling as jirou downed it easily, not even a hint of a wince on her face.

“what was the question?” she asked, looking straight at kirishima, making him blush even further.

“who here is…” his voice trailed off meekly.

“who here’s most likely to have a daddy kink,” bakugou grinned, his vermillion eyes glinting with amusement. “interesting… jirou, hah? i can see it.”

you smiled as you watched their interaction spiral – you’d never seen jirou more embarrassed in her life. kaminari watched on in mild amusement, though you could tell that the tips of his ears were also red.

interesting, maybe it is true, you mused to yourself. can’t blame her, though.

“my turn! ask me a question, kiri,” mina said, clapping her hands and sipping her drink.

kirishima paused in thought before covering his lips and her ear with his hand.

“stop!” mina laughed, gently slapping his shoulder. “you really asked me this knowing who i’d say?”

“yeah,” kirishima chuckled. “go on, say it.”

“mr. bakugou katsuki,” mina said, rolling her eyes. “you want a shot, right?”

“tch,” he responded, grabbing the bottle. “tell me the damn question.”

mina waited for the alcohol to make its way down his throat before she exposed herself.

“‘who here do i think will get married last?’”

“and you said me?” he asked, indignant. “oi, raccoon eyes–”

“oh my god, relax,” she replied offhandedly. “clearly it’s because you’re going to be the number one hero or whatever and you won’t have time for marriage. anyway, i get to ask y/n next!”

bakugou growled, but left it alone, choosing to sit and glower at her instead.

“i’ve got a good one,” mina smirked, and immediately you knew that you were in for a tricky question.

“who here would you fuck?” she whispered, giggling as she pulled away and watched for your reaction.

you knew it was coming. not necessarily to you, but you knew that question was coming. it’s always asked. you sighed, regretting not sitting next to deku or momo who probably would have gone easy on you with the questions.

good lord mina, you thought frustratedly, putting your palm to your forehead.

“i hate you,” you said, monotoned, much to mina’s glee. “i need a shot before i answer.”

“here you go, bestie!” she replied, immediately pouring one out for you.

everyone else looked on eagerly, murmuring as you downed the shot, making a face as the alcohol burned its way down your throat.

“damn, what kind of question needs a shot before getting answered?” kaminari asked aloud, watching you with wide eyes.

you took a deep breath, looking around the group and trying to decide on who to choose. but your actions were futile; for you, there was only one answer – and there had only ever been one answer, really.

“... bakugou,” you said finally, hesitating to make eye contact with him.

“oh?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “shot, raccoon eyes.”

“i already poured one for you!” she said happily, handing it to him. within a second, his cup was empty.

“so? spit it out, y/n,” he grinned.

“who here… would i fuck,” you said the last word with finality, anticipating the hoots and chuckles you’d get from the group.

“this is such a lewd conversation,” iida interjected abruptly, waving his hands towards the middle of the circle. “we shouldn’t–”

“you’d fuck bakugou?” kaminari asked you, his eyes wide with shock. “why?”

“what do you mean?” you felt blood rush to your face, engulfing you in slight embarrassment as you actively tried to avoid the gleaming crimson eyes that were boring holes into the side of your skull.

“i can see it, i think,” momo said, smiling at you. you were sure that what she said was meant to be reassuring, but you weren’t so sure of how helpful it was at the moment.

“so, bakugou, got anything to say?” kirishima asked with a wink, slapping his friend’s shoulder.

he was uncharacteristically silent as the rest of your peers held their breath, waiting for his response.

“tch,” he started, eyes darting to yours. “just that i’m not surprised.”

you held his gaze somewhat defiantly, thanks to the alcohol. sober you would have cast your eyes down immediately, praying for the moment to be over.

“okay, okay! next, next – gotta keep the game moving,” mina said, not wanting you to have to stay in the spotlight for too long. “y/n, ask kaminari something.”

your mind was undeniably foggy with the way you could feel bakugou’s eyes burning into your head, and you weren’t even sure how you were able to come up with a question on the spot. you muttered something stupid about who would be most likely to get robbed, and thankfully, his answer and the following questions kept the game moving along smoothly.

as the night progressed, everyone found themselves drunker and more comfortable with each other, though the questions had definitely gotten spicier. as uraraka rested her head on midoriya’s lap and jirou found herself leaning into kaminari’s arm, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute they looked. your class had come a long way since your first year together.

“i’m going to pee,” you announced, getting up and wobbling as the alcohol rushed to your head.

“oh shit, are you good?” mina asked, getting up to try and stabilize you, despite not being too stable herself.

“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” you said, waving her off. “bathroom’s right there, i’ll be good.”

you stumbled your way over, stepping delicately over kirishima’s legs as you cut through the circle.

you used your time in the bathroom alone to try and sober yourself up. the sensation of the running cold water on your skin seemed to wake you up, and you examined yourself in the mirror.

fuck… i’m drunk, you thought after a couple of moments, giggling at the realization. disheveled strands of hair framed your face, and your eyes stayed unfocused no matter how hard you tried to get them to focus. you sighed, thinking that that was the best it was going to get, accepting your probable future hangover.

you opened the door, wringing your hands dry when an unfamiliar hand grabbed at your wrist, swallowing it in its large palm.

“bakugou?” you gasped, startled. “what…? is something wrong?”

he continued to stare at you, his large figure slowly backing you up into the wall, his body encaging you.

“did you mean it?” he asked lowly.

“what?”

“don’t be stupid,” he said impatiently. “your answer to raccoon eyes’ question.”

oh.

“i…,” you spoke hesitantly. how the fuck were you even supposed to answer that? “yeah, i guess.”

“you ‘guess’? is that a yes or a no?” he stepped in closer, backing you impossibly closer into the wall. you cowered from his stare, his body suddenly seeming much larger than you’d ever noticed before.

“i mean, yeah, i would,” your voice came out small, despite all of the mock defiance you held in your stare just an hour prior. “happy?”

he paused, holding his breath and searching your face intently. his expression was unreadable; normally, his lips were pulled into a grimace – but now, they sat in a neutral position. his eyes were the only elements of his face that gave away some semblance of emotion.

“... yeah,” he replied finally. “you could say that.”

“huh?” you asked, confused.

“come,” bakugou replied simply, tugging at your wrist and heading for the bedrooms upstairs.

“what? where are we going?” you could barely keep up with his strides. “bakugou, they’ll notice if we’re gone–”

“let them,” he sneered. “everyone’s pretty much knocked out, anyway.”

your heart throbbed in your chest as you followed him up the stairs, still slightly shell-shocked by his actions.

there’s no way this is happening right now, you thought incredulously, the only thing grounding you being the feeling of his hand on your wrist. well, i guess i didn’t lie – i would fuck him, you thought, observing the way his back muscles rippled through his black tank top. you weren’t lying – you just never thought he’d take you up on it.

you rounded the corner, realizing suddenly that he was taking you to his room – his private, secluded room that no one in the class had so far had the privilege of seeing.

“your room, bakugou? what an honor,” you giggled teasingly.

“shut it,” he growled, but you knew that he was all bark and no bite at this point.

his pace was fast and before you knew it, you were already in his room, pushed up against his door with your wrists pinned against it as he towered over you.

“you should have said something earlier, princess, maybe this would have happened a long time ago,” he said, his breath hot on your neck.

you opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by his lips on yours, urgent and passionate.

his tongue danced with yours as your teeth gnashed slightly; the both of you were drunk and sloppy, falling into each other as you let your thoughts swirl into nothingness.

he pressed his hips forward into yours, and you gasped slightly at the feeling of his cock stiffening behind his sweats. automatically, you rolled your hips into his, eliciting a low groan from him.

“not gonna last very long if you keep doing that, princess,” he murmured against your lips.

“huh? aiming to be a pro hero and you can’t handle that?” you teased, but were swiftly cut off as his right hand circled your neck, his left finding purchase against the small of your back as he swiveled you around to toss you on his bed.

“oi, don’t test me,” bakugou said, immediately hovering over you, supporting himself with both hands on each side of you and his knee in between your thighs.

he leaned in to suck at your neck, his hand sliding under your shirt to grasp at your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers.

a dull ache started to pulse in your core, and you could feel yourself getting wetter, soaking the thin panties you wore. it didn’t help that with his ministrations, bakugou pressed his knee harder into you, as if knowing that you were desperate for some friction.

you arched your back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to bring him closer to you.

“desperate slut,” he chuckled darkly, nipping at your neck. “you’re lucky i wanted this, too.”

“oh? is that a confession, bakugou?” you asked smugly.

“you wish,” he replied snarkily, fisting your shirt and tugging it up, exposing your breasts. he moved his head down, planting wet kisses across your chest while pulling your bra down, the soft flesh spilling out of the restraining fabric.

a light buzzing filled your body – anticipation mixed with alcohol, and your mind was blurry, unable to focus on a single thought at a time. you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging softly at the blonde locks as his tongue lapped gentle circles over your nipple.

he brought his other hand down to pull at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you lifted your hips, making it easier for him. as his fingers met your clothed cunt, he laughed darkly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“this wet for me, princess?”

you inadvertently tried to close your thighs, an attempt to hide the unmistakable dark spot that had formed at the crotch of your panties.

“no no, don’t hide,” he crooned, dipping his finger below the waistband of the lace cloth. “where’s all the brattiness from earlier, hmm?”

“tch,” you scoffed, tugging harder at his hair as you were at a loss of words.

smoothly, he pulled the fabric down, a low moan falling from his throat as he watched the string of slick that connected you to your panties.

slowly, he glided a finger up your entrance, gathering your arousal on it before shoving it into your mouth, forcing you to clean it off. he watched each and every one of your movements – like a hawk watching its prey.

not wanting to be the only one exposed, you moved your hand down to tug gently at his sweats, silently asking him to take them off. he listened, removing them easily and throwing his sweats and boxers across the room.

“you look so fucking pretty under me, you know that?” he asked, enamored by the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked his finger clean. “wish we could have done this earlier.”

he slapped his cock on your cunt teasingly before sliding the swollen head up and down your entrance, eliciting small whines from you. you’d never felt more needy in your life – just the mere feeling of his cock near your pussy drove you nearly insane with want, the desire to be filled up.

without warning, he pushed the head in, grinning at the gasp you emitted.

“fuck!” you breathed, eyebrows furrowed as you felt yourself already having to stretch to accommodate him.

“i’ve barely even done anything,” he responded, his grin growing even cockier. slowly, he pushed further inside you, holding back his own moans as he felt your fleshy walls clench around him. “fuck, you’re fucking tight though, princess.”

it burned for a second before the pain dissipated, and you found yourself craving more. you rolled your hips into his again, needing movement.

“tch,” he said, feeling your hips grind into his. “so needy.”

he pulled out slowly before thrusting into you again, hard and fast, ignoring the mewls and whines that had started to bubble up your throat.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, so preoccupied were you with the sensation of being so, so full that you couldn’t form coherent thoughts.

with each thrust of his hips, your breasts bounced enticingly, causing bakugou to chew the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from showing any sign of vulnerability. but it was too difficult – you were just so pretty, a fucked-out mess underneath him.

the sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, to the point where you were sure that if any of your friends on the floor below listened closely enough, they could figure out what was happening.

“baku-gou, too l-loud,” you gasped, trying to choke out the words despite the pace at which he was going.

“so? they’re just extras, let them hear,” he growled, pounding into you particularly hard for good measure.

you couldn’t hold back your moans any longer, all of them spilling out at once, falling upon his ears like music.

“god- fuck, bakugou,” you panted, your nails leaving angry red marks on his back.

wordlessly, he moved a finger to your clit, rubbing small circles into it, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your legs spasmed around him, and you wrapped them tightly around his hips, slowing his movements but unable to fully stop them. you were dangerously approaching your orgasm, and you could feel your vision start to glaze over – the only thing you could make out was the image of his eyes, red and shining, staring at you, as if willing you to cum.

your nails dug crescent-shaped marks into his flesh as you approached the edge. “‘m gonna c-cum,” you managed, creasing your forehead in concentration.

he pressed his finger harder into your puffy clit, his strokes becoming longer and more deliberate.

“yeah? then go ahead and cum, princess.”

waves of hot ecstasy rolled over you, pure bliss washing your mind blank of any thoughts. bakugou’s own hips stuttered as you clenched around him, convulsing as you rode out your orgasm.

“christ, y/n, feels so fucking good,” he muttered, letting you ride it out for a bit longer before he flipped you onto your stomach, fisting your hair.

“ah!” you cried out, your walls still fluttering around him despite the pain you felt from your scalp.

he pressed a palm into your lower back, forcing you into a deeper arch as he started to pound into you again, his head lolling back in pleasure.

bakugou couldn’t get enough of the way your ass bounced with each thrust, and he grabbed onto your left hip for support, starting to quicken his pace.

“mmnh–, more, bakugou,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling back as your tongue peeked through your parted lips. you gave up on trying to think – you gave in entirely to him.

“more? fucking slut,” he said, but in truth, your mewls and moans went straight to his dick, forcing him closer and closer to his own threatening climax.

you’d started to back your ass into him, too, matching his pace, and it was nearly too much for him to bear.

“shit,” he hissed. “‘m gonna cum, princess.”

“inside, please–!” you gasped, desperate to feel yourself filled to the brim with his cum.

that was enough for him, and he let go, shooting white hot spurts of cum into you, painting your walls white with his seed.

he cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as it softened, despite the way you continued to clench around him, sucking up all of his cum and refusing to let go.

you whined as he pulled out, the sensation of cool air suddenly surrounding your pussy making you sensitive. bakugou watched, entranced, as trickles of cum oozed out from your entrance before he stuffed some back in with his finger.

gently, he helped you onto your back and flopped to your side, quiet, pensive. you lay catching your breath, but suddenly felt the urge to cover yourself up.

as if he could read your mind, he got up and got dressed, leaving the room.

is that… it? you thought, suddenly apprehensive. you, too, wanted to get dressed, but the trickle of cum making its way down your legs was too uncomfortable.

within seconds, bakugou re-entered the room, a wet rag in hand.

“you’re back?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“what? yeah, i left to get this,” he responded, confused and holding up the rag. “did you think i’d leave you like this?”

“... dunno,” you responded, a little taken aback.

he knelt by the bed, cleaning you up gently and sliding your panties back up your legs.

you’d started to become more clearheaded, despite the alcohol still buzzing throughout your system.

“i didn’t know you wanted this, too,” you said quietly, after a few pauses of silence. briefly, you wondered if you would have had the courage to be so honest if not for the alcohol.

“... i always did,” he responded, averting his gaze and instead shifting his attention to finding your shorts.

your heart beat wildly in your chest as you watched his face, pale with a rosy tint to his cheeks, his handsome features illuminated by the moonlight that peeked through his curtains.

“really?”

“yes, shitty woman,” he grunted, evoking a little giggle from you as he finally seemed back to his usual, grumpy self. “‘cause i fucking like you, y/n. got it?”

he what?

did you hear him correctly? you blinked rapidly, your breath hitching in your throat as he made eye contact with you, his stare intense and piercing.

when you didn’t respond, he looked down, embarrassed.

“you don’t have t–”

“i like you, too,” you responded quickly, hoping that he’d look at you again. “for a while, actually.”

bakugou hesitated before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. he reached his hand out, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leaning in to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“sleep here tonight?”

you smiled, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

“of course.”

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talesofstyles · 4 years

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Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain.

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder.

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment.

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car.

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.”

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later.

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald.

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.”

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later.

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks.

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off.

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.”

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve.

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING.

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head.

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her.

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals.

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom.

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife.

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process.

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop.

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache.

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink.

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers.

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest.

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room.

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward.

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket.

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages.

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side.

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door.

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.”

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going.

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him.

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear.

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat.

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes.

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down.

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.”

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching.

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #husband!harry #doctor!harry #surgeon!harry

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miekasa · 3 years

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okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

#anonymous #yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am #aot x reader #levi x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #armin x reader #erwin x reader #porco x reader #aot headcanons

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

Waking Up Next to Him

Masterlist

Set platonically and within the adventure. It’s long so it goes under the cut!

Time

The bright sunlight winked just beyond your eyelids at an blinding angle. Your back was against warm though and was surprisingly comfortable despite the growing ache in your neck. There’s a weight over your shoulder, pinning you in place but doesn’t dig in. A thrown blanket is covering your body and the secret weight, even if half of it has ended up on the forest floor. You’re too tired to think of what the weight can be. All you know is that it’s comfortable and you don’t feel like moving. A heartbeat passes and the solid form on which you lay shifts.

A groan.

More shifting.

Heat flushes your face slightly as you resign to get up, trying to play the whole cool, once you realize what, or rather who you passed out against.

“Mornin’ Time.”

Your pillow takes a minute to assess the situation.

It’s early, none of the others are up yet. Too tired from the journey the day prior, but the resident chef wakes up the earliest to cook breakfast on time. He’s asleep now but won’t be for long. You thank the stars and your luck that you woke up before him. No pictures for him to take this time.

Time grins, seemingly unbothered by the events and sighs good naturedly. “Good morning.”

Twilight

It was a cold night. They told you it would be. Both your traveling companions and the breeze as you settled with the day’s end.

But you couldn’t have guessed how cold it turned out to be.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Discomfort and shivers kept you awake. Your blankets were warm but not warm enough. At some point, in the middle of the night, you gain the warmth your tired brain was waiting for before drifting off to sleep.

When you wake, you can’t breath.

Hairs tickle your mouth and nose and there’s a large and heavy being on top of you. At first you think it’s Wind because the shape is much to large to be four but smaller than some of your other companions.

Further analysis and you realize that it’s not hair but fur, that’s threating to enter your lungs and the color of the material seems awfully familiar.

“...Wolfie, I love you but you’re killing me. Get off.” You weakly push the beast away, not coherent enough to move your limbs and piece together how to be a functioning human yet.

The creatures blinks up at you, having just woken up as well and notices your open eyes. A yawn and crushed ribbed where he stepped to get off later and your freedom has been duel earned.

You take a breath of relief and grin, only now noticing the cold with the rising sun to be a little more barrable than the previous night.

“Thanks buddy, you’re a walking heater. I probably would have been a popsicle if it hadn’t been for you.” He nods in acknowledgment and swiftly turns away before you can reach behind his ears to thank him properly.

You look up and see Wild and Time already awake, not talking. Warrior looks to just have woken like you today. Not unusual but welcoming nonetheless. Wind and Sky probably won’t wake up for another hour or two and Hyrule and Four always wake up a little after them. No one knows for sure when Legend will get up because its never consistent and Twilight seems to be missing as well.

The ranch hand emerges from the tree line seconds after you realize he was gone to begin with. He smiles at you and waves in greeting.

You wave back and try to dust the wolf hairs off of your clothes.

You missed Twilight’s subtle smirk.

Warrior

It was a hard fight and not a safe place to stay put but the dungeon left you with little option. Separated from the group and low on provisions and healing items, you and Warrior realize that your both running low on fumes. Taking refuge in a secluded corner, hopefully far away from any potential monsters and threats, you rest.

Waking up is hell.

Sleeping back to back was probably not the best idea but neither of you wanted to risk an ambush. Shifts were supposed to be taken but given that you both fell asleep says something about your energy levels and the previous fights.

Your neck hurts, your legs are sore, your butt and hips are not thanking you for the treatment and everything ache will familiar but expected battle wounds. None major but each one takes its toll.

“You up?” Warrior stands up as if he wasn’t bleeding from the shoulder yesterday and he also didn’t sleep sitting for who knows how many hours.

“I am clearly sitting Captain.” You mutter. “I am not up. I refuse to be up.”

“You know as well as I do that we have to get to the others. What if they need help?”

“I’d argue we need the help. Everything hurts. We have no fairies and there’s more dungeon ahead of us with obviously more enemies and traps and puzzles...” The puzzles... were the worst. “Just five more minutes....Please?”

Warrior says your name in a way a tired mother tries to get her stubborn child to listen to reason. His face twists at the idea and when he attempts to look over his shoulder to check your surroundings, it instead contorts in a pained grimace.

So his shoulder pain was still there after all.

“Fine. Five minutes.”

Sky

As expected, Sky goes down for the count within the first few minutes of the mandated lunch break. Unfortunately after a rumble or two and strange smoke coming from the distance that decidedly wasn’t there when you first arrived, the group decided to investigate.

Legend goes to shake Sky’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him but it’s all in vain.

Sticks are drawn after a long and loud argument about what to do and yours in the shortest.

Everyone else goes to check out the commotion and you are stuck with babysitting duty. It’s not bad all things considered- he’s asleep- no actual babysitting happening. But part of you can help but grumble about missing the action so you sit non too gently next to him and decidedly not pout.

Your stomach is full and the sun light begins to feel heavy and warm and nice.

Your eyes close before you can fight it.

Some time later, you’re shaken awake. Adrenaline fills your system instantly but upon seeing the laughing face of Sky himself, you remember yourself and only marginally resist the urge punch him.

“Feel better?” You ask instead.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He chuckles and points to his chin.

You wipe across the area and your hands comes back wet, cold and covered in drool.

“You saw nothing.”

“Oh sure, but Wind did.”

Great.

Now it’s on his pictobox. That’s blackmail material in his favor, you suppose and refuse to acknowledge it further.

Wild

When you wake up, it’s still dark. Not even close to sunrise.

The fire burns bright and warm throughout the area but it’s not the fire that’s keeping you warm.

You also find out you can’t move.

You crane your head slightly to find long hair draped over your shoulder and a familiar scarred ear belonging to the resident champion.

He wrapped around you completely, hugging you tightly and pining you down with a leg to boot.

You attempt to shimmy out but his grip tightens instead.

You sighed and watch as Twilight comes into view. He crouches closer and squats on Wild’s side, whispering to you. “Do you need help getting out? I can wake him to take over Hyrule’s shift for the night.”

You take a minute to rethink about your position. It’s not painful. The opposite actually. It feel nice. You’ve seen Wild cling to who ever he can get his hands on when he sleeps so you’re not surprise.

You don’t need to pee or leave anytime soon anyway.

“No, I think I’m good actually.” You reply, whispering as well. “Let him sleep, it’s been a day for everyone.”

Twilight nods and leaves, but not without looking back once or twice in case you changed your mind.

You shimmy back in place and allow yourself to be held by your friend.

Sleep comes easier this time.

Hyrule

Gentle fingers card through your hair. Warmth, magic and the unusual feeling of safety plague your mind. Confusion hits you but the alarm that typically follows never comes.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake.” A voice fills your ears. It’s muffled and must have been quiet to begin with because you can’t make out who said it yet.

Organizing your thoughts feels like traveling through knee high mud.

Your eyes blink open and the light comes through.

The Traveler is leaning over you, thankfully blocking out most of the sun from immediately assaulting you.

“Hyrule?”

“You had us worried for a minute.” He visually sags with relief, a tired smile on his face and leans back. “You took quite a hit.”

Your head feels swollen but as Hyrule continues to push your hair back it dissipates as time passes. Your thoughts clear and with his help, you sit up.

A hand places itself by your temple. It takes a half second before you realize it’s yours.

It comes back covered in dried blood.

Sky runs over after tending to Four with what looks like a bloodied wet cloth. He sits down slowly and begins to clean your head in a familiar fashion.

“Thank you. Both of you.” You tired voice comes through and a worn out smile follows soon after.

“Anytime.”

Wind

It’s nice day.

According to some people.

Dark clouds cover the sky, the sun nowhere to be seen. It pours cats and dogs and the only cover for miles is a lone cave where your group currently takes up residence. Everyone’s wet and your clothes feel heavy and cold. No one is happy.

Wild, Twilight and Legend dive deeper, intending to check out if any monsters reside in the cave.

Hyrule insisted on traveling with them but Warrior’s concussion and Time’s bleeding leg call for further attention and Legend claims to have more magic restorative potions than healing potions.

He stays behind.

Four and Sky take over the food while he’s distracted, trying to make a half decent meal before he intervenes.

Wind is groaning, sore and bored but otherwise unharmed.

You don’t make any comments at your own pain, biting your tongue and taking a deep breath. As you lean against the stone wall, Wind stomps up next to you and sits down with purpose.

“I could’ve gone with them.” He slams his fist into his cheek with his elbow on his knee.

“But you didn’t. It’s not so bad.” You said.

“They didn’t want me to go.”

“You’ll live.”

“I’m just as good as them you know.”

“I know and you make a better pillow.” You says, throwing yourself sideways with your head landing on his lap. He squawks indignantly and attempts to push you off but you hold on. “Sorry, you make the best pillow.”

“NOOOO!”

“YEEEESSS!”

“Nooooo.” Wind keeps his hands on your back but you’ve misjudged your exhaustion. You’re out in seconds.

A moment passes.

“Hey, hey, hey.... wake up. You have to eat.” A small hand shakes your shoulder.

“Hm?” You blinked tiredly. There’s a bowl if front of your face and you don’t hesitate to grab it. “Thanks.”

“You’re heavy.” A voice calls from behind. The owner lets you take the bowl and begins to gently push you off into a sitting position. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“It was supposed to be a joke but thanks for letting me sleep.” You admit and smile at the pirate.

“You trapped me.” He pokes your side, trying to look annoyed but falling flat. There’s a joke in there somewhere. You’re missing something.

The others have come back while you were out of it, all either have hidden smiles or failing to hide their shaking shoulders and snickers.

Curious and a little self conscious you looks into the provided meal, your reflection greeting you as always.

A lightbulb goes off over your head.

“DID YOU DRAW ON MY FACE?!”

Four

There’s a force dragging you down but there’s two arms under you.

It’s very concerning for a moment but then....the size of them catches up to you.

Your head snaps up and comes face to face with a very surprised Four.

“Hello.”

“...Hi.”

“Lovely weather we’re having, don’t you think?””

“You’re leading with that?” Four snorts and continues walking, unbothered by your weight in his arms.

“How...?” You trail off trying to find the right words to explain what happening to you. You don’t feel any pain and nothing feels injured....but the lack of memories is a little concerning.

“How am I holding you?” Four smirks as he guesses incorrectly. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“I was going to ask how did I fall unconscious. I don’t remember anything. I’m more surprised by that than the fact that you’re holding me despite being half my size.” You blinked and try to keeping searching through your memory.

Nothing comes up.

“Wizrobe.” Four answers causally with a shrug. “It caused some chaos, fought another wizrobe and you got caught in the cross fire between the two of them before we could intervene. Their attacks canceled each other out well enough that you weren’t actually injured but uhh..... Well I suppose you’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

“Four.” You glare in warning.

“Maybe don’t look at your reflection for a while. Legend, Twilight and Hyrule all agree that it’ll fade with time but...”

“What are you talking about? What happened to me?” You sit up a little in his grip, Your arm reach over his shoulders and something wrong catches your eyes.

Your skin is green.

Your shocked silence stills your entire body. Four winces once he follows your eye line and stops to place you on your own feet.

“It could be worse?”

You stare a little while longer and look back to Four with hopeful eyes. “Think you can knock me out again?

He’s not amused.

Legend

You blissfully wake up for the first time in a week.

It’s been an easy week in terms of travel and attacks so the boys take it upon themselves to cause trouble and it hasn’t been merciful to your sleep schedule.

They are the very incarnation of that thing your hometown friend used to say. How did it go again? If there’s no trouble then I’ll create it? Something along those lines.

But this is different and you don’t plan on wasting it.

You close your eyes and attempt to go back to sleep while you can but hushed voices reached your ears, keeping you awake before you can tune them out.

“Should we wake them?”

“You know how Legend is. He can be as bad as Sky and he had a rough night to boot.”

“But he’s right on top of them and they promised to show me how to fight in hand to hand combat.”

“You have all day for that and they didn’t say it was going to be today.”

“But I‘m excited! I want to start as soon as possible.”

“Will you idiots keep it down?” A voice by your shoulder speaks up. It lacks the usual snark it posses but the intention for venom is there. “Some people took double shifts last night. Shut up.”

You breath a small sigh of relief as the voices abruptly cut off and don’t return for a long minute.

The body next to you stills.

Three heartbeats pass and the unnoticed weight gets off of you.

You pretend to be asleep still, not wanting him to push you away so early in your relationship. He’s just started to get used to you.

You’re determined to be his friend before everything ends.

He’s determined to avoid that.

It’s been a battle of wills.

An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object.

But this could tip the scales in his favor if you fail to play it off correctly.

“No one say anything.” Legend hisses. “Not. One. Word.”

You make the mistake of stretching.

“You’re up! You’re up! You’re up!” Wind practically pounces on you, knocking his name sake out of your lungs and demolishing any chances for a peaceful morning. “We can start now!”

“Can I eat first at least?” You groan out, not bothering to fight him off.

“Wind. Off.” Time calls out and the boy follows the command without question. He quickly kneels by your side though, practically vibrating on the spot.

You sit up and look around.

Looks like you were the last one up.

“Morning everybody.” You smile. You glance at Legend who unluckily has the tips of his ears tinted red. His arms are crossed and he’s avoiding looking at you, even greeting you as the rest of the group return your call.

You smirk. “Good morning Legend. Did you sleep well?”

He huffs and turns away completely, taking a few steps to leave.

You get to your feet, shadowed by Wind and head to take your share of the food from Wild.

A beat passes without any words exchanged and you tilted your head innocently at the Veteran. You refuse to let it be awkward between you so you pretend you know nothing.

The blush travels down his ears to his face and neck. “I did. Thanks for asking.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #this one is a long one #but they're all going to be like this #when I started this I thought I would be biased #and it would easy to tell who were my favoites #but I was pleasantly surprised. by the end

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lgg5989 · 2 years

Text

MavDad: Little League

A/N: Here is the next installment of MavDad. As always, please leave any ideas for more chapters in the comments, I would love to try and bring them to life!

ps. tomorrow’s is a Father’s day special

1. He Knew | 2. Superhero | 3. Career Day

Also on Ao3!

-----

Mav couldn’t help but think about how hot this July was as he sat with Carole in the stands of the Pee Wee Reese little league baseball field.

It was the last day of the little league finals and they had been here since before breakfast, it was now well past dinner but excitement filled the air. Brad’s team had made it through the elimination rounds and were in the sixth, and final, inning of the championship game.

The stands were rowdy, with parents chanting and cheering for their respective teams. The kids were exhausted, finding their energy only from the excitement of the crowd and each other.

As Brad walked up to the plate to bat, Mav and Carole both stood up in the stands.

“You got this bud!” Mav shouted over the crowd, catching his eye, “don’t think, just do!”

Brad gave him a small nod, and a smug smile. Mav watched as he got up to the plate, took his stance, cocked the bat back, and swung.

“Its…ITS OUTTA HERE!” the baseball announcer shouted as the ball flew over the fence and ran along the ground.

Brad dropped his bat and leisurely jogged the bases, giving the crowd a show. His team was waiting for him at home plate, the score now 2 to 1 with Brad’s team up. Brad shot Mav and Carole a smile before returning to the dugout.

As the crowd settled and waited for the next at bat Mav couldn't help but think back to a few months ago when all Brad wanted was to learn how to play baseball.

******

Mav couldn’t wait to get off this damn plane, it was one thing flying Mach-Jesus to outrun the enemy, it was an entirely different thing to be beaten to death by turbulence. He hated flying if he wasn’t the pilot in the cockpit and the pilot of the C130 he was riding in was giving them a bumpy ride home.

As they came in on final approach all he could think about was seeing Carole and Brad again. He had talked to them a few weeks prior. Carole told him about her promotion at work and that the dryer had broken, again. Brad told him about his friends at school and how they were learning to play baseball.

“Uncle Mav, when you come home can you teach me too??” his excited voice crackled through the line.

Mav couldn’t have kept the smile off his face if he had wanted to, “of course bud, I will teach you as soon as I get back!”

Landing was just as rough as the ride, but the doors were open and everyone was rushing to get off the plane and reach their families. As Mav stepped off the plane and searched the crowd he immediately spotted Carole’s bright dress, and next to her a jumping Brad. As soon as Brad saw him he started running towards him. Mav crouched down and caught him in a hug.

‘Damn, I don’t remember you being so heavy,’ Mav muttered to himself as he picked Brad up and walked back to Carole.

Carole shared a smile with him and a kiss on the cheek. He knew that she missed Goose every day, and he tried to make their lives easier however he could. She was his best friend. While he knew he couldn’t take the place in her heart for her husband, he could see that he held another special spot, as the brother she never had but needed.

The trio made their way to the car, smiles on their faces, their little family was back together again.

As soon as they got home Brad was showing Mav all of the things he had done since Mav had been gone - drawings of them he had made at school, A+ spelling tests, and the new trick he could do on his bike.

After dinner, Mav headed out to the garage to get tools to fix the dryer. ‘Man you really need to get Carole a new dryer BEFORE the next deployment,’ he thought to himself. Just as he had turned the corner at the back of the house he saw Brad rushing towards him.

“Uncle Mav! Can you teach me baseball now??”

Mav gave a small chuckle, “well bud, I have to fix the dryer for your mom. But, I guess that can wait for tomorrow, huh?”

With an excited cheer Brad went to get the glove that Carole bought him a few days earlier. An hour or so later, after getting dinner cleaned up and realizing Mav hadn’t started fixing the dryer, Carole found them in the backyard playing catch. Before either of them could notice her, she grabbed her camera and snapped a picture. Mav had his back to her and was about to throw the ball to Brad, who had the biggest smile she had ever seen on his face.

The next day, Carole filled out the paperwork signing Brad up for the local little league team.

*******

As the final inning came to a close with Brad’s run being the final one of the day, Mav and Carole rushed down to the dugout with the other parents to celebrate. Everyone was cheering and excited about the win.

“Uncle Mav! Mom! Did you see me hit it out of the park?!” Brad shouted as Mav and Carole scooped him up in a hug.

Carole gave him a big smile, “we certainly did, and I believe that deserves a special treat. What do you think Uncle Mav?” she said as she turned to Maverick.

“I’m buying,” he said with a grin.

On their way home they stopped at their favorite ice cream shop where Brad got to choose whatever he wanted. As they pulled into the driveway, Mav looked back at his nephew to find him passed out in the back seat, with his home run ball in his lap.

Mav smiled to himself, even though he was gone a lot and he felt like he was failing Goose, today made him feel like maybe he was doing an okay job after all.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #carole bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw

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jungshookz · 4 years

Text

🧦 stocking stuffers: yoongi’s being annoying as per usual

stocking stuffers are basically the holiday equivalent of teeny tidbits :D i just wanted to give you guys a little something to tide you over while you’re waiting for the second drabble! also yes that is a sock emoji there was no stocking emoji sUE ME

this started off at five hundred words and quickly spiralled into two thousand words but it’s not good enough to stand alone as a proper drabble so i’m counting it as a puny stocking stuffer drabble

pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

genre; sfw for the most part but there are some suggestive themes because this is demon!yoongi after all <3

what to expect; “ooh, i love it when you get mouthy with me... it turns me on.”

wordcount; 2.3k

»»————-　🎄 ————-««

“i don’t even know why we’re decorating this stupid thing. we’re going to be throwing it out by the end of the month.” yoongi grumbles, tossing a handful of fake snow onto the tree a little too aggressively before shoving his hand back into the bag

this sucks

when he woke up this morning you told him that you guys would be spending the entire day decorating the apartment for christmas and his morning wood immediately deflated

in fact he’s pretty sure his penis might’ve shrivelled up and died at your words

it doesn’t make any sense

you’re like.,., 25% demon!

you’re supposed to hate christmas because it’s literally the day of christ, but here you are, wearing what has to be the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen in his entire life (it lights up. what kind of a sweater lights up?!) while happily hanging baubles on this poor tree that should be out in nature and definitely not in this apartment

“oh, cut it out, you grouch.” you scowl playfully, already fully aware as to why yoongi’s so grumpy today, “decorating is fun! and our presents are going to look so pretty under the tree-”

“y/n?” jungkook pokes his head out from the kitchen and you turn to look at him, “i’m gonna need you to help out with the gingerbread house. construction isn’t going great. there’s frosting everywhere and i ate most of the m&ms. and one of the gingerbread men is missing a head because i got hungry.”

“are you seri- i asked you to do one thing, kook-” you frown, jungkook smiling sheepishly before not so subtly popping an m&m into his mouth, “get back in the kitchen! i’ll join you in a second.”

jungkook pops back into the kitchen and you let out a hopeless little sigh before slowly turning to look at yoongi

he pauses right as he’s about to sprinkle some more snow onto the branches and narrows his eyes at you, “…why are you looking at me like that?”

“will you finish decorating the tree while i help jungkook?” you turn to look at yoongi before pushing your bottom lip out in a pleading little pout, “please?”

“what?? no way!” yoongi scowls, immediately dropping the bag of fake snow onto the floor with a thump, “the only reason why i agreed to do this was because it’s more bearable when we do it together- i’m not decorating this tree alone, that’s just pathetic-”

“aw, c’mon-”

“i’ll just wait for you to finish with the gingerbread house and then we’ll continue with the tree-”

“but we have to follow my schedule!” you whine, grabbing your notepad off the couch before pointing at the next thing on your list, “see? 1:00 to 2:00 - decorate the tree. 2:00 to 2:30 - hang the lights out on the balcony- and it’s already 1:30, yoon-”

“for the love of-” yoongi huffs, “okay, fine! fine, i’ll- i’ll decorate the damn tree alone.” yoongi snatches the box of baubles from you but the faintest of smiles twitches at his mouth when you lean in to squish an appreciative kiss to his cheek

the thought of completely burning the tree down while you’re gone briefly flits through his mind but he squashes that thought quickly

he’ll be good for you

he can behave!

»»————-　🎄 ————-««

“don’t eat the gum drops, i’ll be right-” you step out of the kitchen and your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see yoongi floating in mid-air, carefully wrapping the christmas lights around the tree, “yoongi!” you hiss quietly, hurrying over to him before reaching up and wrapping your fingers around his ankle, “yoongi, what the hell are you doing-?!”

“i’m wrapping the damn tree in these lights and we don’t have a ladder-” yoongi wobbles a little when you give him another harsh yank and he glances down to see you looking warily at the kitchen door

heh

you’re... anxious.

he can feel wafting it in the air and it smells so good

maybe he can have a little bit of fun with this…

“so use a chair or something! yoongi, i thought we agreed that if jungkook was here that you wouldn’t do anything non-humany-!” you jump when yoongi suddenly drops the pile of lights into your arms before lying back and folding his arms behind his head

oh god

he’s not going to get down anytime soon

also the only reason why you haven’t told jungkook about the fact that yoongi is most definitely not from this world is because he would pass out from complete and utter petrification

you don’t know how he’s going to be able to handle a spawn of satan when the man is scared of fruit flies!!!!

you’re planning to keep everything a secret until the day you die

(you’re also hoping that the day you pop one of yoongi’s babies out that it doesn’t come out with tiny red horns on its head because you feel like jungkook wouldn’t take that very lightly)

“down. now!” you snap, bending down to set the lights down on the ground so you can go and follow yoongi, “i’m serious, yoongi!”

“oh, relax.” yoongi sighs, “he’s in the kitchen, we’re in the living room…” you frown disapprovingly when he tilts his head back so that his face is right in front of yours before flashing you a grin, “now, why don’t you wipe that frown off your face and give me a kiss?” he purses his lips obnoxiously and squawks when you shovE your face into his hand

hey!

rude!!

“i’m not going to give you anything until you get down-”

“aw, but decorating the apartment would be so much easier if you just let me do my thing!” yoongi pushes himself all the way up so that he’s next to the ceiling fan, “i can even do some much needed dusting while i’m up here!”

“min yoongi, if you don’t get down right now-” you hop up onto the couch and reach up to grab his foot onLY for yoongi to pull his legs up and cross them, “you know exactly what you’re doing, you sadistic freak-”

“ooh, i love it when you get mouthy with me,” yoongi wiggles his eyebrows, chuckling to himself when you start hopping up and down to try to get closer to him, “it turns me on.”

“that means nothing to me because you get turned on by everything-” you grumble, your fingers barely brushing over his ankle as you keep trying to grab him, “like that one time you were watching me eat ice cream-”

“uhhhh, excuse me-” yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “there was white cream dripping down your chin. obviously i got turned on-”

“hey, if you come down now, i promise to do that thing that you said you wanted to do…” you offer, looking up at yoongi with wide eyes before clasping your hands together, “c’mon… isn’t that a good deal?”

yoongi shakes his head and sticks his tongue out at you, “nice try, you scammer. i’m not falling for that again-”

your shoulders immediately drop and you watch helplessly as he floats over so that he’s near the kitchen door

you really wished that inheriting some of yoongi’s aura gave you the power to float as well

all it gave you was the ability to sometimes make your eyes go black

suRE your stamina in bed has improved significantly and you can keep your engine running from sunset to sunrise but that’s not as cool as FLOATING in mid-air

“do not.” you shoot yoongi a glare when he makes a motion to open the kitchen door

“what if i…” yoongi grins, pretending to knock against the door, “oh, look at your face! you don’t like that, do you? you poor, helpless little thing...” he coos, rolling over onto his back with a laugh

oh god

you haTE THIS

“you know i-” your heart practically drops out of your ass when the door suddenly swinGs open and jungkook steps out with frosting all over his hands

“okay, i know you said not to touch anything, but one of the walls were starting to droop so i thought i’d reinforce it with a little more frosting, buT i squeezed too hard and the bag exploded-”

you swallow thickly when yoongi lowers himself a little all while maintaining strong eye contact with you, propping his chin up on his palm before the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin

you ball your hands into tight fists when yoongi blinks and his pupils turn into thin red slits

great! now his creepy demon eyes are out!

okay

you know what?

it’s fine

relax!

you know he’s taunting you on purpose but it’s not like he’s actually going to do anything-

“DON’T-!” you jump off the couch when yoongi wiggles his fingers directly above jungkook’s head, a couple tendrils of his hair starting to float upwards

“okay, jeez!” jungkook raises both hands in defence before scoffing lightly, “i said i’d offer to help clean up but since you obviously don’t want my help then maybe you can get yoongi to help-“ jungkook pauses, glancing over by the tree, “hey, where’d he go? i heard his voice like a second before i came out-”

“he’s dead!” you blurt out, jungkook’s eyes widening immediately

(improvisation has never been one of your strong suits)

yoongi lies down on his back before crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes, all while floating mere inches above jungkook’s head

“i mean… he’s… dead-finitely in the washroom.” you correct yourself, trying to hide the complete and utter angeR on your face when yoongi peels open one eye before turning his head and blowing a silent kiss at you, “because he… had to pee. like any other normal human being does when their bladder is full.”

“that was a very... non-human being way to answer a question.” jungkook snorts, “what’s wrong with you?”

“i just... don’t want you to get your grubby frosting hands anywhere!” you clear your throat, letting out a sheepish chuckle before rushing over to jungkook, “why don’t you start cleaning up and i’ll join you in a sec?”

“but my hands are still covered in frosting-”

“uh-huh, sounds good!” you slap your hands down on jungkook’s shoulders before spinning him around and practically shoVing him back into the kitchen

you close the door before looking up so you can grab yoongi by the collar and pull him-

yoongi is… no longer there.

the christmas lights on the tree flicker before buzzing out

okay

so he wants to play games, does he?

“yoongi?” you spin around quickly before walking forwards cautiously, carefully inspecting every inch of the room for any sign of your nightmare of a boyfriend

you jump in surprise when a bauble suddenly falls off the tree and bounces on the floor before rolling over to your feet

“you think you’re so funny, don’t you?” you mumble, bending down to pick it up before gently placing it down on the coffee table

i’m fucking hilarious, baby. i like to think that’s part of the reason as to why you love me so much.

“what the-!” you jolt at the sound of yoongi’s voice suddenly echoing in your head

the last time he was in your head like this was when you summoned him for the first time which was definitely a while ago

you forgot how weird it was to hear his voice inside your head

“i certainly don’t love you right now, i can say that for sure.” you grumble, “it’s safe to say that i actually hate you right now-”

you look really sexy when you’re mad at me. why don’t you meet me in the bathroom for a quickie? jungkook will never know. i’ll even cover your mouth with my hand so he won’t hear anything.

you look over quickly when the door to the guest bathroom suddenly creaks open

ahA

“yeah, i’ll meet you in the bathroom... to kick your ass-” you storm over, kicking the door open only to see that there’s no one in there, “and then when i’m done kicking your ass, i’m gonna kick your ass again-”

ooh, are we finally experimenting with pain now? i can definitely get into that. i can use your bobby pins as makeshift nipple clamps.

“you are infuriating!” you snap, placing your hands on your hips and looking up at the ceiling

you know that being playful is just part of yoongi’s nature but good GOD

sometimes you just want to strangle him

and not in the kinky way

at this point it looks like you’re going to have to pull out what might be the most predictable trick in your book but you’re desperate here

you need to sort this out before jungkook comes out to see you talking to yourself like a crazy person

yeah, that’s right. keep thinking about how annoying i am and how much that pisses you off. angry sex is super hot.

“oh yeah?” you stroll towards the middle of the living room, taking your time to do so, “you think so?”

hell yeah. i want you to be on top, too. i love the view.

“i’ll do... whatever you want me to do...” you trail off, eyes flickering around the room for any sign of movement, “but if you don’t come out in the next five seconds, it’s just going to be you and your hand for the next five days- oh-!”

it’s only a second later that you’re suddenly being pummelled into from behind

you definitely would’ve fallen face first onto the floor if it wasn’t for yoongi wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “finally! there you are-”

“depriving me of sex during the holidays??” yoongi whines, digging his fingers into your waist, “now look who’s being the asshole-”

see??

oldest trick in the book but it still works like a charm :’)

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

699 notes · View notes

imaginewarehouse · 4 years

Text

Marcus White x Jonah’sSister!Reader || Oneshot

Plot:

You find out that you are pregnant... with Marcus' miracle baby.

Warnings: Pregnancy, panic attack

🔆 🔆 🔆

Carefully, I pick out one of the pregnancy tests from the shelf. Then grab another... 2 more... and another. Just to be sure.

As I go up to the pharmacy desk, I thank god that Tate isn't working here anymore; I never would've gotten away with this. He would've snitched to Jonah or something, for his own sociopathic enjoyment. Instead, the new guy thankfully rings up and bags my items casually, not really caring what he flings into the white plastic bag- then hands it to me with a soulless customer service smile. If I had to describe it, I'd say its if the man had been working here for years before finally letting the job kill him on the inside- just in time for the wind to change and stick his face like that. Honestly, I never see the guy without this smile. Not even in the breakroom. Its unnerving.

Still, I take the bag and smile back even though I know he for sure doesn't really mean it and turn around so I can walk (The long way around the store, so I don't pass the doors to the warehouse) towards the employee bathrooms... but stop short, jolting into panic mode immediately. Freeze, freeze, freeze!

There's Isaac, standing as tall as a bear in my path behind the aisles, with a scanner in his hand and a surprised look on his face. Or at least as surprised as he would ever convey.

Clearly, though, he saw the tests. And I'm screwed. He is absolutely the well, second last person I wanted to catch me doing this; Buying these.

A nervous smile flickers onto my face and I walk the short ways over to him, hugging the bag to my front. He's still just staring; Mouth half open and eyes a little less dead, then usual. "Oh, hey Isaac! How's is going? You got sent to pharmacy today? That s-sucks... " Honestly I didn't think he was allowed to be assigned pharmacy...

Completely by-passing the option to forget what he just saw and exchange polite chit-chat with me, he instead closes his mouth and his eyes, shakes his head and then opens his eyes again. Then inhales. "Are those what I think those are?"

"Wh-what?"

"Pregnancy tes-"

Shit- Giving him a desperate expression, revealing my true feelings today - being complete and utter panic, - I cut him off. "SHHH! Isaac! No- uh. Yes. Um... Would you believe these aren't for me?"

"Mmm... " His face twists slightly into one of thought, tightening his lips together and sizing me up. "No, I don't think so."

"Well!- " I'm totally ready to make up an excuse... but peter out as soon I try. I could do it. I could string together some kind of half-believable bullshit like 'They're for Amy', but he would still go and tell Marcus and he would find me and... I would still have to have the conversation earlier then I want to. So instead I drop the façade, and my shoulders, and show just how tired I am. "I want to find out myself before breaking the news to Marcus. Okay? He might be unhappy about the idea and then we do the test and it turns out I'm not pregnant and then I just stressed us both out, for no reason! And, on the other hand, what if he wants it and it turns out I'm wrong about this? Please, Isaac, just don't tell him yet. Please, please." I feel like no matter how many pleases I use they may still not change anything. But I'm desperate.

He stands still for a few minutes... so long in fact I think he may be in shock himself, or having some kind of drug induced anxiety attack, and am about to wave my hand up in his face or say his name again, when he finally breathes a little more obviously and I relax back down to earth. "... Well, lets go find out then, right?"

"What- You- you want to come?" Something in me relaxes at the thought- I don't really want to do this alone. I want someone there, like in the movies, to hold the box and just read me the instructions. But I imagined it would be someone I'm actually close friends with, who can hold my hand and wouldn't care that it recently touched a pee-stick. I did not expect that person to be Isaac - Isaac, who likes to watch homeless people kill each other with shopping trollies and sticks and trash can shields like in a horrible, pitiful, modern-day coliseum, - in a million years.

But he nods.

"Yeah, sure." He puts his scanner on the shelf, and we set off the way I was going. He seems to silently understand why we have to go the long way around- to avoid passing the doors to the warehouse. Or he just doesn't care. Either way, I'm thankful he doesn't try to re-rout my course. Or even mention it. "Good excuse to slack off work... besides I should probably get out of this section, anyway. Hey, it is Marcus- right?"

I sigh- I suppose the companionable silence was too much to ask for. "Yes Isaac. If its a thing, in the first place."

"Yeah, right."

___TIME SKIP___

"You're having a miracle baby, you know? He's not supposed to be able to do that- isn't that kinda... good?"

I only whimper in response from |my new home| the cubicle I've been taking the tests in, holding my head. How am I going to do this? I have college, I have this job, I have my studio apartment to continue paying rent for! Marcus and I don't even... there isn't even... we haven't labelled it yet, and... Oh god, I'm shaking.

Isaac heaves a sigh outside, his chair creaking as he shifts. "Well, that's... three positives, so far." Isaac's memorable, slow drawl seeps through the cracks in my cubicle and takes away my thoughts for a moment. And my breath.

3 positives.

Not one, not two... three.

... Then he goes on, a whiny tone in his voice. "Do we really need to do another one?"

I breathe in deep. I don't know what else to do. The next logical step would be telling Marcus or Jonah, but I'm ready for neither of those. So procrastination through pregnancy test, it has to be. "Uh, yes. We do. Um... can you, please?- "

"Ughhh. Yeah, yeah. I'll get you more water. Stay here." Then Isaac, who has surprisingly been very helpful, even getting me tape so I can stick the finished tests up to the door in front of me so that I can compare them easier, disappears out of the women's bathroom, leaving me with my thoughts.

I peak back up at the tests, feeling panic fill up my chest cavity like its anxiety gas and my rib cage is the gas chamber- and my heart's the poor organ at deaths row. I'm... pregnant.

Oh my god. I'm pregnant. There is a human being growing inside me, right now. A human being who will require time that I definitely don't have, money that its parents certainly could not scavenge if we scavenged for used soda cans like Myrtle and sold them in our spare time, effort that I'm terrified might not even be in me at this point... A baby that needs some semblance of a comfortable, stable home, which I do not have for it.

I'm just burrowing my face into my arms and knees atop the toilet seat when the bathroom door opens again. Looking up, I immediately ask for Isaac- because that was really freaken quick, for him.

And get a familiar, confused sounding voice call back "... No, its Amy... Sorry, I just need to pee. Are you going to be long?".

"Oh!" Oops. Immediately, head going empty with panic, I unlock the door and and jump out to let her in. "No! I just finished. Um- go ahead. I'll just wash- wash my hands."

Now seeing each other, I see Amy's forehead crease and her eyebrows furrow in confusion and concern at my pink cheeked/pale faced appearance and the panicky way I'm talking. She reaches out toward me. "... Y/N, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" I laugh, the most nervous sounding laugh ever. "Don't worry."

Amy's nose screws up. "... why were you waiting for Isaac?"

"We-we're just having an affair."

... what??

Her eyebrows furrow even deeper. "Okay... I'm just gonna go... pee... now... " She says slowly, gradually disappearing into the cubicle; Not quite sure what to say back to that.

I sigh in relief when her eyes aren't on me anymore and the door locks, thinking flushing some water onto my face might calm me down, when a loud GASP comes from Amy and I i m m e d i a t e l y remember the tests stuck to the wall. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!

Amy comes right out of there, looking at me with completely new eyes now- understanding truly why I'm pale, I'm sure, and definitely why I was acting the way I was. "Y/N! You're... pregnant??!" I open my mouth to respond. Maybe say 'yes' seeing as that's the truth and the only proper answer, but I choke on my words and instead say, "Isaacs getting more water so I can take another test."

"I think 3 is a pretty conclusive number!"

"I-" She is not wrong, but I don't want to do anything else but take another easy test, and get defensive instead. "I bought four, I'm doing four!"

"Wh- Is Isaac the father!?"

"God, no." Isaac and I both spit back in offense.

I whip my head around when i realise he wasn't supposed to be there yet at all, and- there he is in the doorway.

... Jonah right behind him looking sicker then me. My jaw drops. "You brought Jonah??!"

"Uh, no, I was just waiting outside for, um," He gestures to Amy and my stomach drops. So he heard the whole thing. Could this get any worse??! Well I mean of course it could, Marcus could be here. Stupid question. Don't ask questions like that; It always summons the worst, in movies. "You're pregnant!? Who- you know what, unimportant right now. Do you wanna sit down??"

I shake my head, taking a deep breath and holding my hand out to Isaac. "No, I'm fine. I have a test to do. Water, Isaac?"

"Here." He hands me the bottle, and I go to disappear back into the cubicle before jumping back away again, remembering that Amy still needs to go and gesturing for her to go, ridiculously enough. She shakes her head and gestures back, like I'm crazy, to take it instead.

I do so and lock myself in, starting to chug the whole bottle.

A blessed silent moment passes... before Jonah speaks. "Is the 4th test really necessary?- "

"For the love of god- Let me take the fourth goddamn test for fucks sake!"

___TIME SKIP___

"... so what is it?" Amy asks 10 minutes later, breaking the deafening silence, as I sit back down on the toilet seat and hold my face in my hands again.

"... Positive... "

Isaac sighs. "Who would have guessed, really?"

No one tells him to shut up. He's right. But also no one agrees, because I'm a fucking 23 year old pregnant girl and I will kill them.

"So... what now?" Amy asks, speaking to the room, but expecting me to answer.

"Well, I'd like less people to be here, honestly." I pipe up, removing my hands from my mouth to speak clearer.

"Done. Isaac, Jonah, get out."

"What? I was here before you... lady." Isaac exclaims, offended, but a moment later I hear the door close, anyway. I assume it had something to do with Amy's signature resting bitch face- cranked up to eleven. "We'll just wait out here, then! Yell if you need us."

"Yep... " Amy responds to him, sounding exhausted and I can totally imagine her rolling her eyes right now. She takes a deep breath, and sighs it out. I hear her rest carefully down into the chair Isaac vacated. For a moment she thankfully says nothing, and I do wonder whether I should... but I don't know what to so say. So I just stay hidden in the cubicle, silent until Amy takes another deep breath and asks the question. "Who is it?"

I take a deep breath, knowing that once I say it I cant take it back, while on the other hand... its done, anyway. He's already the father and I cant change that (Would I if I could, though?) but telling Amy may either make or break my confidence in having him as the dad of my kid. Not that I have a choice... I just know that Amy's going to be worried about it and I don't know if I can handle the criticism right this moment.

Finally I spit it out though. Marcus.

...

"Oh- wow."

Uncomfortable, I shift on the closed toilet seat. "Yeah."

Her voice gets higher, clearly fake and trying to sound like this is better then she really feels it is. My heart plummets into my stomach like a terrible roller coaster. "Well, that's... " She pauses, searching for a safe word to use, assumedly. "Great!"

"... 'great?" For some reason that word, and Amy's tone... hits something wrong, in me. Panic flickers deep in my chest and my stare on the wall gets colder, harder. "... you think this is 'great'? Really? You? No, you don't. Do you hear yourself? 'Great'. Puh! This is Marcus. 'Been to jail' Marcus. 'Ex Con' Marcus. 'Creator and CEO of BOOB CHEESE', Marcus. Marcus who shits in the shower and thinks breastfeeding is akin to whipping your dick out in public, Marcus who has a tattoo of his mother on his back for Valentines day- "

Okay so maybe I'm just picking on him because I'm inadequate, because I don't have the time for a baby, because if I'm trusted with this perfect thing then I will ruin it... I'll pick work, instead of love, and they'll grow up with less of it then they should have and I'll be to blame...

But I don't want to address that yet. I cant.

"Y/N."

"Neither of us even have the money for this." I'm panicking again. "He lives with his mother! And- what if he gets mad... " I suddenly get worried, my eyes go round and I cover my mouth. "I really like him Amy. I cant have him mad at me. Not for this. Not him. Please don't let him hate m- "

"Y/N! Calm the fuck down, okay, right now. Don't speak. Just... take some deep breathes okay? First of all, Marcus is not going to be 'mad' at you. He's sure as hell is not going to hate you. You're spiralling, just take some long breaths." Amy makes it sound like a ridiculous idea with her tone, that he might be mad or he might hate me. I do as she says as she talks; take deeeeeep breaths. Slowly, I start to clam down. "He might be shocked, yeah, but he's- he's not like that. He's an idiot, not a total asshole. Take it from me, I know what I'm talking about here. I promise you. Whether he'll be good at being a parent, is... debatable." Everything she says makes sense. And she would know- you've met Adam. "But he'll be there, at the very least.

And... and you'll be a great mum, anyway."

I feel my heartbeat start to slow down again as I breath. I close my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest and rest back against the wall, carefully.

I really hope she's right on that second part.

"... thank you."

___OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM___

Jonah rubs his neck in nervousness at his sister in the bathroom dealing with something like this, pacing around the small hallway area before turning to Isaac. He raises his dark eyebrows. "So, do you know... wh-who?? I mean... the guy, that- I mean, does he work here, or... ???"

"Its Marcus." Isaac pulls out a bag of trail mix from his vest pocket and starts picking through, standing by the bathroom calmly. The brother to whom he just broke such detrimental news - that his sister, has Marcus White of BOOB CHEESEs baby inside her, - widens his eyes until they're more like dinner plates. "Yeah, they've been talking for a while, man. You didn't know?"

"I- I just thought she wasn't interested in... guys... " All her time must be busy with balancing both school and work, plus her friends... how can she possible have had time to... But on the other hand, he realises that its a bit naïve to think that his younger sister still isn't interested in 'boys'. Part of it might have been wishful thinking.

Isaac barks out a laugh. Its a stale, dry sound that makes Jonah really uncomfortable. "She also went out with Tate. Had a bit of a thing for Sayid for a while, too... "

"What!?- "

"Jonah!" At Amy's exit from the bathroom, he calms down immediately and straightens up. She raises her brows at him. She nods into the bathroom. "She wants you."

Yep- it takes him about 2 seconds to fly into the bathroom... to find his sister still hidden in the cubicle. He sighs, pressing his hand against the door. "Y/N? Amy said you wanted me. Do you want me to get you something to eat? Its just, I'm the only one who knows your snack preferences... and maybe we shouldn't eat in here, cuz its kinda gross... but if you want to, that's cool too!"

She doesn't respond for a minute, silent apart from the careful peeling of tape from the cubicle door.

Then the peeling sounds stop. A moment later her voice, sounding small and tentative as if just saying this would open Pandora's box, slips out. "... how're mum and dad gonna react?"

Its a rhetorical question. They both know it'll be bad - and they'll like Marcus even less, - , but its said so he knows what she's worried about. He sighs and leans back on the door. "Well very, very badly. But that doesn't matter right now. I'll take care of them."

"How valiant." Her voice is still small, quiet. But she sounds less scared; She always believes her big brother. Even when she knows logically that he cant protect her from them. Not their parents.

"Well, I try."

"... hm."

___TIME SKIP, BACK OUTSIDE OF THE BATHROOM___

"She is not leaving that bathroom," Isaac shakes his head. Its been an hour, and they've all been in there with her a couple times but she has not left the cubicle. Not even peaked her head out. She hasn't even e a t e n anything while she's been in there. Its starting to worry them. "Maybe we should go get Marcus."

Immediately Jonah looks up from his phone - having been reading up on pregnancy. What is going to start happening to his sister, now?? - and shakes his head, firmly. "No, she'll tell him when she feels comfortable with it. We aren't doing that."

"Yeah, it isn't up to us." Amy agrees, while still looking like on a deep, unsympathetic level that is tired of standing here... she definitely wants to drag Marcus here. But she also knows that Jonah is, unfortunately, a n n o y i n g l y, right.

Isaac heaves a deep, frustrated huff and gets comfortable on the floor.

___TIME SKIP: 3 HOURS LATER___

Finally, Jonah breathes in a deep, exhausted breath and puts his phone away. That's enough of that. He's sufficiently disgusted. He looks down the hallway, out to the store. Then to Amy playing solitaire on her phone and Isaac drawing slowly on the ground. "... Well, I mean, it's Marcus's baby too, right? He should know... right?"

"Mhm,"

"Yep, that's right."

"And... besides, Y/N might need him, right? Maybe he could get her out."

"You make some good points."

"I just wish they weren't points we already mentioned." Amy looks up from her phone and turns it off, flashing an sarcastic, displeased kind of smile. "Earlier."

"Yeah well... " He rolls his shoulders, looking away from Amy's piercing gaze- god, her face is like a loaded gun with no safety. And he's totally into it. He coughs, then whispers. "So, who wants to go get him??"

"Not it."

"I would, but ah... nah. I'm down for the count, down here."

"So... me."

Amy nods, making a 'shoo'-ing gesture with her hand. "Yep, you, Jiminy Cricket. You made us stay here for hours- you go get Marcus."

Looking to Isaac for help, Jonah is just met with the deadest eye's he has ever come upon, so he eventually sighs deeply, wiping sweaty hands on his jeans. "Fff-fine. Wait here."

___IN THE WAREHOUSE___

"Uh, hello? Hi- have you seen Marcus anywhere? Wh- No? Well if you see him can you tell him I'm looking for him? Its about Y/N."

The warehouse worker with the nametag reading 'Nigel' that Jonah's never spoken to before in his life and who prior to his words, had the new deadest eyes that Jonah has ever seen, suddenly beams- a twinkle of evil mischief in his eyes. "Oooooh, cats outta the bag, huh?"

Jonah blinks. "What?"

"You found out about Marcus and your sister, and now you're gonna beat him up? I was waiting for this moment." Nigel clarifies, actively looking around the room for Marcus now as Jonah rushes to explain that no, that is not what he's here for. Please don't say that so loudly- "HEY RICO! You seen Marcus around?? Y/N's brother's here to deliver an ass beating." Half a second passes while Jonah's ears ring from Nigel's screeching before something new apparently occurs to the warehouse worker as his eyes widen and he turns again to who must be Rico. "And you owe me 20 bucks!! Told ya he'd come!"

How often is Y/N in this place? Just seems weird, these guy's saying her name so casually... Jonah's forehead crinkles in thought as Rico rolls his eyes and groans, walking off to assumedly find Marcus. I'm learning a lot about my sister, today... Not sure how I feel about it...

Jesus Christ, has she eaten the cheese, too??!

Jonah doesn't get a moment to panic about that particular bit of nightmare material before he realises Nigel is still standing, awkwardly now, arms straight at his sides and eyebrows raised expectantly, right by him. Watching him, instead of returning to his job. Jonah raises his own eyebrows back; Shrugging. Like, what?? What do you want?

Nigel just just shrugs and shakes his head back passive aggressively, crossing his arms. Like, he doesn't know. Fine, we'll just stand in silence, then...

"Jonah! What's up, buddy? Visiting me in the warehouse- this is so nice! Want me to take my break now, cuz we totally can. Just let me wrap one last thing up and then we'll be back in my car, together. Listening to tunes; Ya know. Guy buddy stuff." T h a n k f u l l y, Marcus seems to rush from wherever he was in the depths of shelf-land when Rico apparently found him and cuts off the awkward stand off between the two men, dropping a hand on Jonah's shoulder and beaming. "What up, man?"

Quick to turn away from Nigel and get to what his mission really is at the moment, Jonah graciously ignores the touchy greeting... despite the awkwardness on his end and the fact that Nigel is still there, watching. "Actually, I wanted to talk about, uh, Y/N."

Marcus' eyes immediately widen and his eyebrows raise, taking his hand off Jonah in favour of ringing his hands and stepping back nervously himself. "Oh, man... you found out, didn't you? Did she tell you? Cuz like, I know the bro code says its not cool to bone your friend's sister but- "

"Ah, ah, ah!" No, no, no, Jonah does not want to hear those words. No. "No, um. That's fine, whatever. Y/N's sexuality is her own. But- "

"Its a ruse, Marcus. He's here to kick your ass." Nigel insists, still very much there despite everything about this situation having nothing to do with him and instead just freaks Marcus out more as the warehouse head's eyes go even wider and he takes another step back- raising his hands in surrender.

"No, no! Nigel!- That's... no. I'm not here to kick anyone's ass! The asses here are all perfectly safe, I promise. Okay?" When Nigel's expression doesn't change a lick, Jonah gives up and just gestures off in a random direction. "Nigel, could you give us a minute, here?"

"What, so you can jump my boy here alone?"

"Alone?? Who's alone?" Jonah is getting increasingly irritated. "We're literally surrounded by other warehouse workers!! Ones who are actually doing their jobs, by the way. Maybe you should- "

Marcus finally intercepts and pats Nigel's shoulder, getting his attention from looking confrontationally at Jonah and smiles relatively softly at him. "Its okay, Nigel. If Jonah wants to kick me in my junk once- he's kinda entitled to it. Bro code and everything. Why don't you get back to work? I got this. Thanks, though." Nigel leaves, with that, but certainly not without giving Jonah one last greasy look over his shoulder and an 'Okay, Marcus. But call me, if... you know... '. Along with an extra evil squinty look at Jonah. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks bud. I know I can count on you." When Nigel is finally out of the picture, Jonah feels fatigued and just wants to get back to Y/N. At least its just him and Marcus now, though, so they should be doing that very soon. "So! What'd you want? If you really do wanna hurt me, then, can we go outside? By my car ideally, so I can drive the emergency room right after? Or you, cuz I mean... you're small, man. And I'll have to defend myself. Even if its fair. Its instinct, you know? You get it."

"I'm not gonna hurt you?? Why does everyone think- " What is wrong with people here? Do I give off a confrontational aura right now, or something??? "Ugh, whatever. Y/N needs you- she's been in the bathroom for 4 hours. We did try to get her out ourselves, but our attempts have been... l-lacklustre." Lacklustre? Okay, even he is surprised to hear that one come out of him.

"She needs... me? Like, she said that?" All of a sudden Marcus' expression changes. Worry wells in his eyes and his forehead creases, and he glances at the door out to the floor before returning to Jonah, looking restless now as his body fights with him to go, immediately. "Oh, what's wrong with her? Is she sick??"

"Uhh... in a manner of speaking... Look, I just think she needs to see you right now."

That makes the taller man move towards the door, clipboard dropped on a box on his way. "Of course; Right away man. Come on, lets go see her. So you really don't know what's wrong?? Should we pick up some root beer on the way?" Jonah follows behind, hand on his chin as he answers Marcus' questions. Wow... He did not expect such a response from him... He... kinda respects it, in a way. Its a pleasant surprise, at least.

___BACK TO YOU AND YOUR POV. God I hate third person. Its so hard, I want to cry___

"Y/N? You in here??" As soon as that voice registers in my mind, my heart beat skips in the worst way and I almost start to full on panic all over again, but thankfully instead just freeze and only widen my eyes. What the hell? The door to the employee bathroom closes as Marcus shuts himself in and you watch his boots appear under the door to your stall. "What's going on? Jonah couldn't tell me what's wrong with you," Jonah. I glare at the stall door. I'm going to kill him. "But I brought you some root beer for you- a total cure all. I promise. And some (Enter your favourite snack) cuz I know you like them. Here," He stretches up and holds the items over the stall door, and, feeling genuinely touched that Marcus was sweet enough to bring these, I get up off the toilet seat and accept them from him.

"Thank you, that's really nice. I'm... not sure, that the root beer will fix this, though." I speak carefully, sitting down and holding the items in my lap close to my stomach.

"Course it will! I poured some in Mateo's ear once when he had an infection... I think it worked?"

Probably not. "This is a lot bigger then an ear infection... Kinda permanent, too?"

"Oh god, is it cancer?" He pauses for a moment but before I can put that particular worry at rest... or remind him that cancer is not always permanent... he makes it worse, and I fight not to facepalm. "The plague??! Its still a thing, you know. Jesus, its not that is it? Please tell me its not that! That would be the worst!" I mean... yeah, it would.

"Oh- no no! No, nothing like that!! I'm just pregnant!"

... wait.

Immediately I want to take back my words and say them differently- because is that really the way I just broke it to him?? Oh my god. My hand slaps over my mouth- then pulls back an inch to speak again, but is definitely on guard to slap again and prohibit anymore stupid to come out. "I mean! ... N-no big deal?" My voice gets tiny. "At least its not the plague, right?" I'm just making this worse, so I cover my mouth again.

Marcus does not respond, and I can imagine his face crystal clear, without having to look. He would have his mouth hanging open like a cartoon character, his shoulders have dropped, eyes are blank, and he's pale as hell. Oh god... oh god oh go oh god... I cover my whole face now and just try to breath evenly, and not talk anymore. I was right! He's not going to even like me anymore, this is going to ruin how he looks at me- I cant have Marcus look at me coldly. I really cant.

Finally, a few minutes later the door to the bathroom creaks open again and I know it's not Marcus escaping because I can still see his boots under the door and they haven't shifted in a while. Amy's voice rings out, too loudly in the stock silent bathroom. "... everything okay in here? We haven't heard anything in a while- Marcus?"

He doesn't respond.

I hear Amy walk in now, her heels click-click-clicking on the tiled floor. "Marcus? Marcus, are you okay?" She snaps her fingers, assumedly near his unresponsive face. I slip my fingers down to just cover my mouth, straining my ears to hear any movement from him. "Wake up!" Another snap. "Marcus wake up."

All of a sudden I hear shifting and his boots shift slightly and I squeeze my eyes slowly shut- now he speaks. Now's the part where he speaks. Now's the worst part! He either leaves, or stays. "Uhh... I'm awake, okay?"

...

Amy and I are both startled by the seriousness in Marcus' voice- Amy evidently in the way she responds, backing out of the room. "... Okay! Um, well talk. To Y/N. I'm... just gonna... wait outside... "

Marcus just grunts in response, turning back to my stall door. Then he wraps his knuckles against the surface and I flinch- unsure whether to unlock it and be a grown up or stay hidden away like I really, really want to. Its not like I'm afraid he'll hurt me or anything, not at all! Its just... I don't like to disappoint people and I'm terrified at seeing his face. "Y/N? Can you come out, now?"

"Ummm... no... " I wince, keeping my eyes closed to the world. As if that'll hide me from it.

"No???" He asks, bewildered.

"No... "

Marcus' voice isn't at all as cold-serious as it was when he spoke to Amy, but still. There is still definitely an unfamiliar focused quality about it, and its making me nervous. "What? Come on. What do you think's gonna happen? I'll yell at you? Come on, that's not gonna happen; Come out. "

"I'd really rather stay in here... " I fire back.

"Don't be scared of me." He really does sound trustworthy... but that fear, man; She's one unrelenting bitch.

My voice goes high pitched when I answer, too vehement to be the truth. "I-I'm not! Silly! Why would I be scared of you??" My eyes open up again and I just wince. Such a liar.

"Aghh... " I just listen to him shifting around out there looking for something for a bit, or thinking of what to say next, while I myself sit and think comfortable that there is nothing that will make this worse, seeing as I'm safe and sound in this toilet stall... before his boots disappear from my vision under the door and I hear him disappear out of the bathroom then return again almost immediately, going into the stall beside me and putting something down on the toilet seat in there.

Oh my god- he wouldn't dare! He would not-

Then all of a sudden he's climbing over the wall and I have to jump off the toilet seat and press closely to the stall door, root beer and snack still hugged in my arms like teddy bears. Marcus eases himself over the wall and onto the toilet seat before my eyes, then jumps off it to the tiles again in front of me, while I gape wide at him. "I- what- Marcus!"

"Well you weren't coming out! It was my only option!" He exclaims, and now that I see him I do relax a bit. There's no coldness in his face now, and there is certainly no unfamiliar, unfriendly seriousness, either, seeing as the man just climbed into a toilet stall to get to me. Very Marcus-y. I slowly let out a relieved breath, which is still also a 'calm down' breath as the pressure is certainly still on. I can see him, but he can also see me.

Eager to avoid the issue at hand, I snap. "You might've kicked me!"

"No, I wouldn't have." He makes a defensive 'pshhh' sound immaturely, waving me off with a hand before resting them both on his hips and looking right at me. I give him my own dubious look right back- What makes him so sure??? He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, anyway." Suddenly, a beautiful big smile spreads across his face; the kind that still makes me a little bit weak and almost forces me to smile back. Even now, in this situation. "This is great."

And then I'm speechless, mouth closed and eyebrows furrowed together. ... Great? What? Quickly he moves to clarify, before grinning that goofy grin of his. "The pregnancy! Man, I've seen enough girlfriends get pregnant over the years... its nice to see one having my baby." A moment passes and my system is just registering this reaction - not even relieved, yet. Just in shock and a little less anxiety, - before he drops his smile, raises an eyebrow, and adds: "It is mine, right?"

Still shocked, I answer as if the question was more on the lines of 'That was my cupcake that I just ate, right?'. Meaning, probably too casually. "Oh- oh, yeah! Abs- absolutely." He doesn't seem to mind.

He beams again. "Great! We'll be awesome parents- that is assuming you wanna keep the baby, right?"

"Uh... " All I want to say is yes, right now. Even as the complications of raising a baby right now linger in the forefront of my mind. But at the same time I'm looking at Marcus and I just want to. I want to have the baby, and I want to do it with him... in the moment, he's the absolute perfect person to do it with. I choke out, "Yeah."

He fist pumps the air at that response, and finally the relief starts to settle in my stomach and my heart... a smile grows on my own face. My eyes even get a little watery with the powerful relief. "YES! That's right, I'm gonna be a Dad. Whoo! We gotta tell everyone. But how, do you think? Should we get a cake or something that says it in icing?? Or should we just go out there and announce it over the speakers? Or should we just not tell anyone? Cuz on the one hand, I wanna tell everyone- but on the other... I don't really want Carol to know you're pregnant. That could be bad."

"Um... " I don't even know what to say. I just want to hug him, so I do. I step forward and wrap my arms around his middle, burying my face in his coveralls and the body I've become so familiar with over the past months that smells so uniquely - and not always so pleasantly, but definitely comforting, - like Marcus and squeeze tight, closing my eyes. He smells like that 'new furniture' smell that's really just 'warehouse', and an unfamiliar home, and a little bit of B.O.

Thank god.

Amy was right. Of course she was. Even when I was stressing, I knew the image I had of Marcus getting mad about this didn't feel quite right, but... you have to prepare yourself for the worst, you know? I'm just so glad he's the way he is though, as he wraps his arms around my shoulders in return and bends his neck to press his cheek to my head. "I'm really happy about this. And I know we haven't figure anything out. With us, with money, with anything actually, but... we will, okay? I'll do my best, I promise."

"... Thank fuck." I chuckle, although its muffled and get a similar sound from him in return. "I'm really happy, too." He rubs my back in that rough, comforting way that guys do and I might as well melt; He's too wonderful. I bite my bottom lip, thinking my next move through before taking a deep breath and deciding to take the plunge and ask. "... hey... um... b-boyfriend?"

Marcus immediately pulls me back and holds me at arms length, a crazy-big grin splitting his face. "Oh, yes! This day just keeps getting better and better; Come on, we definitely have to tell everyone this, lets go." Excitedly, he slips past me and unlocks the stall door finally, but pauses and turns back to me before its pushed open at all. I tilt my head in curiosity- what's up? "Unless... congrats sex?"

...

Oh my god- a snort, transforming into a laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. I pull him closer by the front of his coveralls, grinning at both the idea and how silly he is and gently tug him down closer to my level. I close my lips and knit my eyebrows together understandingly. "... How about you come over after work? First we should probably deal with the others? You know, the ones hanging outside right now?"

"Oh, yeah, probably. Oh man- I'll be basically related to Jonah now!" Oh- well- not exactly but... okay fine. If it makes the guy happy. "Ha ha, look forward to seeing this face every Christmas, bro." Oh boy.

I just grin at that - Goodluck Jonah, - before leaning up the rest of the way and pressing a careful kiss to Marcus' lips which he immediately returns with enthusiasm, hands abandoning the stall lock and collecting my waist instead.

This is going to be okay.

It will work out. I hope.

BONUS:

Later in the breakroom while Marcus is busy with talking to some of the other Cloud 9 employees about the news, Jonah takes the seat next to me and I raise my eyebrows at him- he's obviously dying to say something. I know my brother at least that much. He sighs.

"So... you... haven't eaten the cheese, right? I mean, I have but I'm hoping you haven't been put through such, uh, cruel and unusual torture... "

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. I managed to convince him it was cannibalism for women." I grin, returning immediately to my Cloud 9 Caesar salad as Jonah sighs long and hard in relief, relaxing back into his chair.

#Superstore #Superstore Oneshot #Oneshot #Superstore x Reader #Superstore Marcus #Marcus White #Marcus White x Reader #Amy Sosa #Jonah Simms #Superstore Isaac #Superstore Jonah #Superstore Amy #TW: Pregnancy #TW: Panic attack #TW: Stress #TW: Anxiety

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azc3nsion · 3 years

Text

a helping hand

Rating: E (Explicit, 18+ only)

Warnings: Explicit, PwP, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, lots of swearing, Modern AU

Summary: washing up takes time, which is awfully inconvenient for your flatmate, who would really like to use the bathroom, and would like to use it now. but when you call him in, he brings along an idea - and soon you no longer have to worry about anything - except, maybe, enjoying it ...a little too much...?

It knocked, again, for probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

"Can you, like, hurry up? I need to-" "Can you shut up!" You interrupted him, before Childe could repeat himself for the nth time. Another thud, likely stemming from his fist having hit the door. With a sigh, you dropped your hand in defeat.

"Listen," Came the voice of your flatmate. "I-"

"It's open." You huffed out.

"Sheesh, finally. What are you ev-" He broke off immediately. You lifted your head and made eye-contact. Childe stood in the door, hand on the handle, frozen. You lowered yourself until you sat on the side of the tub, completely naked as you were.

"Uh-"

Amusement bubbled in your chest at watching his perplexed expression.

He blinked, and turned his eyes to the ceiling.

"Uh, you could've- Why… The fuck." His other hand came up to rub over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. "The fuck?"

You raked a hand through your hair. Childe's ears started to glow.

"Slept with a guy who didn't use a condom and I'm not gonna walk around getting cum all over my underwear." You sighed and shut the water off.

"And… now?"

"Been trying to get it all out."

He came into the room, shutting the door fully. The stream of cold air that had flooded the room, coming in from the hallway, got blocked. Legs a little stiff, he made his way towards the toilet and sat down there to pee. You watched him, and had trouble hiding the grin that his attempts at not-staring and keeping himself covered evoked.

"What's taking so long then?" He asked at the ceiling. His fingers pulled the wad of toilet paper in his hands apart piece by piece. His ears were strawberry red by now.

"I feel like I can't really- You know vaginas are self-cleaning, right, but I don't wanna wait around, but also I feel like I can't quite get up in there."

He nodded. His brows creased, and it looked like he was mentally going over your words once more. You sighed again. He finished and got up, flushed, then went to wash his hands.

"Right. So…" He met your eyes through the mirror, and you could see his gaze slipping down before he focused on drying his hands.

"So, I'm sorry for occupying the bathroom so long, Childe. Don't really know how long it's gonna take me."

If you'd have one of your dildo's here, you could've used that. But the one that was the most natural one you had had been lost, for weeks now, and your hopes at finding it just today were slim. If only you had a proper one here, their heads were shaped in a way that would so easily clean you out…

Childe was still hovering by the sink, wringing the towel between his palms. An idea took root in your head.

"Hey Childe?"

He looked at you, and then away, after clearing his throat.

"Yeah? What."

You shifted a little in your spot.

"When's the last time you fucked someone?"

It didn't matter, but it seemed smartest to not outright ask, to not overwhelm him completely.

"Uh… Dunno. Been a while. Why?" One of his hands had been buried in his pocket already, and after rubbing his neck with the other, he put that one into his sweats, too. They held the front of his pants suspiciously convenient away from his crotch.

"You know, you could… You could really help me out here. If you use your dick, the cum would be out of me in moments. Wouldn't take long at all."

This time his eyes shot up to meet yours and stayed there. "Wh-What."

You stayed silent.

He swallowed.

"You want me to- To fuck you, to get the…?"

You nodded. "Doesn't have to be long, either, just a couple of thrusts. Just to get it out."

The silence weighed heavy in the air between you. Childe's ears were an alarming shade of cherry by now.

He swallowed again.

"Like, right here or…?" His hands slipped out of his pockets and the soft, stretchy fabric slid back into its place, revealing a sizeable bulge at his groin.

You got up and out of the tub, leaving wet footprints on the tiled floor on your way to him by the sink.

"We could go to bed, too. Would probably be more comfortable, if you want?"

You ran one of your hands over his left pectoral, down to his side.

"Yeah," His voice was a little raspy. "Yeah, okay."

"Thank you!" You smiled at him, feeling relief but also anticipation spread through your stomach. Fucking your flatmate had never really crossed your mind - mainly because his primary function was to be able to afford rent and not live in a total pigsty - but now that you thought about it… "Your bed or mine?" Had your voice been this breathy before...?

"Mine." Childe mumbled, gaze alternating between your eyes and lips.

Against better judgement you leaned forward, stopped just shy of his lips. He was still staring at yours. The tip of his tongue pushed his bottom lip down.

"Can I kiss you?" Even though it had been you leaning in, it was him asking now.

"Yeah-" You whispered, and then his hand was on your neck already, pulled you in and against him.

He was careful, with his lips and his teeth and his tongue. The first kiss was just soft lips on lips, testing the waters, getting a feel for the other. Then he broke away, for only a moment. He came back, with teeth nibbling at your bottom lip, and then there was his tongue sliding between your lips, easing into your mouth like it had always belonged there.

"-ngh!" You hissed out as he tugged your hips closer and pressed his erection against you. You raised one of your legs without a second thought, to be closer to him, and he jumped at the chance of slipping a hand around your thigh, down to your butt. You rolled your hips against his hard-on, and smiled into the kiss as he let out a soft grunt at the contact.

"You know, I never thought about kissing you, but you're… really good at this."

He rolled his eyes, hands continuing to fondle you while he was momentarily distracted. "That was probably the best kiss I've had in-" "Mhm okay, bed, now." He cut you off with another kiss, mumbling the words against your mouth.

And yet his hands did the opposite, only pulling you closer, softly pushing at your hips until you rolled them against him one more time. Two more slow, deep kisses, and then he straightened his shoulders and took a hold of your hand, pulling you along and out of the bathroom.

The air was chillier outside, and you hurried after him, not wanting to catch a cold.

His room was warm against the hallway, had a pleasant shiver run over your back. You dove into his bed, were surprised at the softness of his sheets as you slipped between them while Childe was rummaging around on one of his shelves. He turned back around, a box of condoms in hand, and lifted one with a questioning look.

You rolled on your back and shook your head.

"Don't worry about that. I just need you to get the other stuff out, it's not like we're actually gonna fuck."

"Right." He winked, grinned, and put it back. You had to smile at him winning his cool back.

His usual, wry smirk was in its usual place on his face, and his posture carried more of the confidence you'd mistaken for cockiness upon first meeting him. Knew to be self-assurance by now.

"So, how do you want it?"

He shrugged out of his hoodie and tugged his shirt back down over his abs, before shimmying out of his sweats. Your eyes went straight to his groin. A dark spot had bloomed over the light grey of his boxer tights, towards the left leg. One of his hands pushed on his junk before he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged them down.

His dick sprang free of its constraint.

It was a decent size, with a nice girth. His hand came back and gently massaged his balls.

You shuffled backwards, fully onto the bed. Turned around and spread your legs, giving him full view.

"Just… push in and out a couple times. Just a few should be enough."

"Okay."

You felt the bed dip where he climbed on it. His palm was warm when he ran it down the length of your spine.

"You sure about this?" You asked, looking back over your shoulder.

"Huh?" He met your eyes, one hand rubbing your hips and sides, the other enclosing his dick and giving it a slow pump. "Helping me out, I mean?"

"Oh yeah, no it's alright. Probably annoying getting your underwear all sticky, I get that. Don't worry about it."

You let out a sigh of relief. "Okay."

He continued to smooth his fingers over your back - your shoulders, sides, thighs. Even used both to round your torso and cup your breasts. It felt nice, but it wasn't really what you'd agreed to.

"What are you waiting for?" You laughed lightly.

Childe's chest, still covered with his shirt, brushed your back as he leaned forward.

"If you're wet, it'll be easier for me to go in. Plus it'd basically help flush you out even more, right?"

You hadn't thought about it like that.

"Huh… Yeah… Guess you're right?"

He pressed a kiss to your neck. His lips felt really nice.

His logic was sound, and so you allowed yourself to fully feel after each of his touches. When he eventually kissed his way down your spine, you wiggled a little.

"Think I'm ready." You let him know, even feeling a little hot and bothered despite your best intentions.

"Alright." He pulled back, and you could feel his thighs touching yours. "Okay, going in. You ready?"

Already the blunt tip of his dick kissed your entrance, not daring to slip in just yet.

"U-huh..." You mumbled.

The tip pushed between your slick folds. Parted them with ease, and slid inside you almost by itself. You felt yourself opening around it, with barely any resistance.

"Oh fuck... Childe-" You pressed out, eyes closed.

His dick fit inside you like it had been created to just fulfill this singular purpose.

"Ah- Hold on, not in completely just ye- Ah…" His pelvis met yours. Both of you moaned out. You almost felt a little light-headed. "Fuck you feel good."

"You too…" Oh, and how good he felt. Filling you completely, having you writhe and itch on the spot, longing to feel him move...

"Okay," You pressed your eyes close and then opened them again, hoping to clear your head a little. "Try… Try pulling out, see if any of the cum…?"

You trailed off as he already moved.

"Mhm, shit..." He breathed out. Only the tip was left inside you. "Yeah, there's some white stuff. Looks like it's working?"

"Can you push in again?"

He obliged, even before you'd finished your sentence. Again his dick entered, pushed until his balls nudged up against you.

"Fuuck…"

You had to close your eyes, he felt too good.

The premise of Childe's dick was presenting a temptation you hadn't considered, and weren't in the slightest prepared for. If you didn't focus on the initial reason you'd asked him, if you- He thrusted in, groaning as you accidentally clenched around him.

The pure lust in his voice had you forcing your eyes open, staring at the headboard of his bed. Childe's hands on your sides held your hips securely as he pushed in and out again, almost having a sort of rhythm already.

"Hey…" You swallowed a moan.

"Huh?" He said.

You had to remember the words before speaking them out one after the other.

"Is there still cum getting out? Did you clean me out already?"

"Oh… Hang on." He pulled out completely. You dropped your head on your hands, willing yourself to not think too much about how utterly empty you were right now. "Yeah, there's still… There's still some stuff there. See?"

You lifted your head and he held out his fingers for you, a thin string of cum dangling from it.

"Shit. That dude must've come deeper in me than expected…"

"I can try going a little deeper?" He offered, and you heard him drop the tissue he'd used to wipe his fingers with on the floor.

You bit down on your lip. He'd pushed in balls deep already, but kept the thrusts relatively light. If he were to actually put some force behind them-

"Yeah, please." Came the words out of your mouth while you were still trying to argue with yourself about how him going in like that, just a few times, wouldn't hurt. Wouldn't be worse than how the rest had been already. Worse, as if him fucking- No, helping you was bad in any way, or-

And then his hands were back on your hips, he lined his dick up with your hole again and filled you once more and any and all thoughts were gone from your mind at once.

He felt so good.

So good.

He went balls deep, went back for the fraction of a second, and then pushed in as deep as he could again.

"-Fuck!" It escaped you. "Ah, shit, Childe… You think the cum is in that deep?"

"You don't want me to make sure?" He huffed out, before grinding his hips against yours. Instead of an answer, you moaned, shamefully loud as he thrusted in, rutting against you. And then one more time.

"Ugh…"

He pulled back, agonizingly slow.

"Hnng, Childe-" It was at the tip of your tongue, that plea, and still you recalled this wasn't meant to be a fuck, this was supposed to help you get the other cum out, this wasn't supposed to- "Childe, please, harder."

He groaned and his fingers dug into your sides.

His skin smacked yours as he sped up and forced his dick as deep down as he could on every thrust now.

"Is this helping?" He asked through clenched teeth, with his dick pounding into you.

"Oh- Oh- Fuck, Childe- I- Fuck-... Deeper, Childe, please gimme- oh- Fuck…!"

He was breathing heavily now, pushing into and against you wildly. Leaned forward and pushed you down into the mattress, one arm around your middle to keep your hips slightly elevated.

"Ah, ah, ah- Ah fuck, fuck fuck…" He grunted, hips smacking into yours.

You realized you'd lost then; whatever petty little mental resistance that remained after that first thrust. He was fucking you so hard and so thoroughly that you could almost feel the strain on your ass and legs already, knew it'd be a pain to sit or even walk tomorrow. And it only had you moaning more.

"Fuck, Childe… Cleaning me so good, fucking me so good, ah-" You moaned out, pushed into the mattress by his weight on your back.

"Giving you only the best I have, baby..." He brought out, spreading his legs a little further. Your own felt like jelly, being fucked apart like that

Smack smack smack.

He let out a moan, directly into your ear.

There was a lot that came over your lips, mindless blabber, mostly; sweet nothings about how good he was, how great he was fucking you, how good it felt.

"Hnng- Cum inside me, Childe-!" You were bordering on light-headedness, didn't have full control over your words anymore, being pounded into oblivion by him. Let slip what had started to fill your head over the last minutes. "Fucking- Give it to me, Childe-! Fill me up!"

"Shit you serious?" He groaned, hips pistoning into yours. "Fuck-"

"Yeah," Now that it had come out, now that you had admitted it to both him and you, it felt wrong to pretend you hadn't said it. Didn't want the chance to be properly stuffed full, by someone you liked, no less, to pass you by. Were hungering to feel him lose himself.

"Yeah, yeah- Just cream me, okay? I want you to- Oh fuck, fuck- I want- I want you- Your-"

"Shit- Ahh, shit- Fuck- Fuck-!" He buried his head by your shoulder. His hips came to a stuttering halt. "Gonna cum if you don't tell me to stop-!" He brought out, but if it had meant to sound like a warning, he was terrible at delivering it like that. Made it sound more like a promise, if all.

"Childe, please-" Your hands clenched into his pillow. "Don't you dare stop now or so-"

He fucked into you hard, bringing your sentence to a stop before you had to come up with some bullshit.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-" His voice jumped an octave as he flattened himself to you, helplessly rutting into you, and then he was groaning out long and loudly, pushed in to the hilt, and didn't pull out anymore. Rolled his hips against yours to thrust in as deep as he could. "Ohhh… Ohh, shit..."

You clenched around him, tickled another groan out of him as his dick throbbed, filling you with his sperm.

He kept grinding against you with every spurt of cum, slow, lazy rolls of his body as he rode out the last of his body's high, until he finally stilled for good.

Sighed and hugged his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You felt comfortably cushioned, and good, like this, with his dick deep inside, in his arms. There was a pleasant warmth between your bodies.

"Shit. Yeah, there's no way there's any of the shit of that other dude left now…" He ran a hand over the side of your thigh. Pressed another soft kiss to the shell of your ear. "You're full of my sperm, now."

You moaned at his words; at the affectionate and yet almost possessive tone.

"Can you make me cum, too?" You asked, half muffled by the pillow.

"Yeah, sure. Come on, lift your hips a little- There you go."

He refused to pull out, and so his fingers caressed your clit, pushed and prodded and circled relentlessly. Egged you on further and further, having you chase after your own orgasm - until you lost ground and came, overwhelmingly. Still impaled by his dick.

You didn't want to feel for your legs, were content just lying here for forever now. Maybe getting fucked once or twice would be nice, but even if not- This was your spot now. Your motivation to move was below zero.

Instead of making a move to have him shift off of you, you softly ground back against Childe, still deep inside you.

"Fuck this was good... Didn't know you could fuck this good."

"Didn't know you were so fuckable." He answered your unasked question and laced his fingers through yours as you extended a hand next to your face. "Sorry I made you even more sticky now…"

You huffed and shrugged. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade.

"This doesn't change anything between us though, right?" You asked, head turned, watching the redhead from the corner of your eyes.

"Hm? What? -No, of course not." He rolled his hips against yours once, pushing as close as possible.

"Okay, good." You laid your head back down, closed your eyes and sighed at the feeling of Childe everywhere around you.

"Can I still kiss you, though?" He asked, and you squinted your eyes at him. "Like, right now?"

It had you laughing.

"Yeah, sure. C'mere."

And he eased out of you, let you prop yourself up on an elbow, and then brought your lips together softly. And as his tongue darted out, swiftly sliding back into your mouth, you felt his cum slowly start to leak out.

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aries-writingblog · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Summary: When Sam gets injured on a mission, YN will do anything to fix her mistakes. While she worries about fixing Sam, Bucky picks up on her guilt. Picking up the pieces of herself she dropped in her frantic efforts.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2322

Warnings: panic/ anxiety, mentions of blood and character injury

AN: This was one requested by the lovely and wonderful @cherry-season who gave me so much inspiration to write! I hope I did it justice. Happy reading!! GIF is not my own, credit to original creator.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to break free of its skeletal cage. Anxious adrenaline flowed in her veins as she paced. Hand rubbing across the back of her neck, impatiently waiting for answers.

It had been an hour since she and Sam returned from their mission. The mission that went completely and horrendously wrong. It started off fine- it started normal. Then it got twisted in a way YN couldn’t even comprehend.

She had been watching his back. She always watched her partner’s back. So what went wrong? What went so off rails- what did she do? How could she have let this happen?

“Miss LN?” YN’s head snapped to the source of the noise. A doctor- still in their surgery gear. She took a shaky inhale, her nerves were decimated. “Why don’t you take a seat- just… try to relax a bit.”

“How- how, where is Sam? Is he okay?” She demanded, moving a step toward the doctor. The woman eased her backwards, gently settling her into a chair. Latex covered fingers pried in between her own glove covered hands. Unclenching the tightly wound fists she had created.

The doctor gave a small, apologetic smile. It quickly fell, giving way to a pressed line of condolence. YN’s stomach plummeted, nausea crawling across her organs. Turning her stomach. Bile rising in her throat. She knew that look. It was the one she had to give to victims when they weren’t going to make it.

“There’s been a slight complication.” She reported quietly, her gaze soft as she studied the agent before her. She was unraveling and quickly. Hands shaking, goosebumps raising on her arms.

“I don’t understand,” YN swallowed, throat aching as her nose burned. Eyes watering from unshed tears. Blurring her eyesight. She blinked them back roughly. “You said you would fix him- what complication?”

“Both kidneys were compromised during the mission- he made it here just in time for us to stabilize him but he is going to need a rapid organ donation to survive.” The doctor informed steadily, keeping her voice even and low. YN’s fingers curled again, trapping her hands between her own. The doctor didn’t blink, unfazed by the strength in her grip. “It’s a difficult task but we have everyone we can working on finding at least one quickly. It’s more complicated due to his blood type- we haven’t been able to find anything available nearby.”

YN sniffled, her nose stuffing up as water slipped down her cheeks. She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste coating her tongue.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It had been an easy mission- what did she screw up? Why did it have to be Sam? It should’ve been her, she should’ve-

Her eyes snapped up, meeting the doctor’s concerned features. She could still do something. It wasn’t too late. YN released her hold, wiping across her face. Erasing the remnants of her distress. Her bottom lip trembled but she forced the sentence out anyway.

“What’s the type?”

“He’s O positive.” The doctor didn’t hesitate in a response.

A heavy weight began to lift from her chest, she swallowed back the rough, scratchy feeling in her throat.

“I’m O negative- does that work, can that match? I’ll give whatever he needs.” Her words tripped over themselves, rushing out. Any way to compensate. She was the one who got Sam hurt, she was responsible. She should clean it up.

The doctor’s face brightened almost instantaneously, her eyebrows lifting. Eyes wide.

“It can-“ She cut herself off, pulling YN to her feet. “We need to run a tissue sample test to make sure that you’re compatible. While it’s running, fill out the paperwork just in case.”

YN rushed after the woman, hurrying through the hallways. She could save Sam. The guilt burned in her chest, sinking to meet the rising anxiety in her stomach. Creating a turbulent, vile mixture of self loathing. It had to match… this has to work. Otherwise… she would forever be known as the person who killed Sam Wilson.

~~~~~~

The first thing she became conscious of was a tense pressure on her hand. Then came a muted, muffled noise. It was familiar, albeit distorted and distant. A small groan fell from her lips. In response, the pressure became more intense. A firmer hold. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her head felt light, as if it was floating a thousand feet above her body.

“There she is.” YN turned her head as far as possible, which wasn’t much distance, eyes cutting the rest of the way. She tried to clear her vision, blinking to wear the groggy remnants of sleep away. “How you feelin’?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, throat scratchy and dry. Bucky released his hold, standing to pour a glass of water for her.

“Well, it’s to be expected.” He sighed, stepping closer to her bedside. He grasped her chin gently, angling the lip of the cup to her mouth. Tilting the glass slowly, allowing her time to swallow the water down greedily. “Unlike a major surgery cause, there’s no need to tell the people you love you’re having surgery. Especially not if it’s emergent.”

YN’s lips quirked at the corners. She hadn’t really been thinking of anyone but Sam in the moment. It all happened so fast, the whole day seemed to have been but a blur in her memory. She couldn’t recall details, her thoughts crashed against a hazy wall as she glimpsed back.

“Sorry… didn’t really know what was happening until it did.” She spoke slowly, words felt like molasses on her tongue. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, gently brushing her hair back before returning to his previous seat at her bedside. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“I understand…” He told her, a soft smile playing on his features. There was a melancholy glimmer in his irises. They betrayed him, as usual. “I was just scared that you… left.”

All Bucky had received was a phone call from the medical wing. Just that he was written down as YN LN’s emergency medical contact and that she had been in surgery. Granted, it had mainly been his fault- he didn’t listen any further for more details. The phone dropped from his hand and he bolted from their shared apartment. Rushing frantically toward her. Panic sloshing, ripping into his chest. Shredding his last hopes of sanity as his thoughts raced.

YN moved her fingers up to his wrist, the bass of his heartbeat thumped prominently into her own body. In response, Bucky’s fingers curled over her wrist, searching for the same feeling. It was slightly weakened, her heartbeat, but it was there. She was alive. A gentle, sleepy smile appeared on her lips. Eyes almost closed again.

“I’m never leaving.” She promised, applying pressure to his wrist. Bucky returned the smile and the gesture, the knot of emotion in his throat unraveling in steady increments. Allowing him to breathe easier.

He reached over, tugging her blankets back up with his free hand. Over her torso in an attempt to contain some of the heat the flimsy hospital sheets provided. He sniffed, clearing his throat. Turning his face away from her view.

“Get some rest, daredevil.” Bucky instructed, sliding his chair closer. Head resting beside their entwined hands. His blue eyes twinkled with tears he had kept bottled away. All YN wanted was to reach over and brush them away but she felt unconsciousness creeping up from behind. Waiting to drag her back into the darkness. Her mouth wouldn’t open, tongue wouldn’t move. Her eyes drifted closed; her last picture was Bucky’s beautiful face resting beside her.

~~~~~~

Bucky sighed gently, curling closer into the warmth she provided. They couldn’t sleep like they used to. He was accustomed to wrapping around her like a vine, keeping her body close to him. The weight, the pressure and warmth, kept him present. Kept him calm. Even if he awoke in a panic, which had eased in the past few months, the feeling of YN’s figure pressed to his always seemed to relieve his frazzled, frayed nerves.

But now, after the surgery, he couldn’t hold her the way he wanted. He couldn’t provide the comfort he craved to give her. And she needed it. He wasn’t blind. Bucky knew exactly why she had rushed into that surgery. The blame that she had placed on herself was too vast. Much too heavy for her to bear alone.

So he tried to convey the comfort in other ways. Helping her to the bathroom and to the shower. Making her meals and sitting with her while she ate. Reading to her, going through as many pages as it took for her to fall asleep. Keeping her distracted from her bed rest. Bringing her presents, mostly just notes that Sam had written and asked Bucky to deliver.

Sam didn’t blame her. Especially not after she saved his life like she did. Bucky had visited when he woke up, explained the situation. How she felt, how it was eating away at her. And he couldn’t get out of bed yet- he was still being heavily monitored by the medical staff. So, for the past few weeks he had resorted to video calls and notes to her. An attempt to cheer her up. Bucky was relieved to see it was working.

“Buck?” YN’s voice was muffled by their shared comforter. He hummed in response, not fully committed to the idea of waking up. His senses were still slightly dull, lulled into submission by the warm body at his side. “Your arm is really heavy and I really have to pee.”

Bucky grunted, shuffling to slide his arm away from her hips where it had lain. YN shimmied over to the edge of the bed, groaning as she pushed her weight over the side. She stumbled, her hand pressed to the gauze padding on her abdomen. Bucky scrambled out of the bed, sheets tangling around his ankles.

“You’re not suppose to do it on your own.” He grumbled, his tone was sleep- laden. His eyes weren’t even fully open yet. YN scoffed, accepting his arm anyway. Together, they crept toward the bathroom slowly, most of her weight against his side. “You coulda asked, doll.”

“I can handle going to the bathroom by myself, Bucky.” YN insisted, her side glare was fatal. Eyes narrowed and full of frustrated fury. “You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”

“But I want to.” He replied simply, leaning against the doorframe, gazing into the bedroom to give her privacy. He didn’t need to, he had already been witness to every inch of her skin. Every mark on her skin, every freckle and scar. But he figured she would appreciate it none the less. Give her a controllable amount of autonomy. “I like doing it.”

It was the honest truth. Bucky reveled in the fact that every ounce of his attention was placed on her and her alone. He liked to care for her. He liked making her coffee and meals, helping her up and down. It was something he knew the old Bucky did often. The old Bucky took care of Steve when he was sick, and Steve’s mother when he could help. When his sisters were under the weather. It was something engraved in his bones: caring for those he loved. Providing comfort.

“It’s rotten work.” YN’s voice was quiet, the running water almost drowned the words out. But Bucky heard them. He turned slowly, giving her a hand towel to dry her hands. Her eyes were down, staring at the fabric between her fingers. Taking her time, hoping he would move past her sentence.

“Not to me,” Bucky responded. His fingertip brushed against her cheekbone, wisps of her hair passing through his fingers. He tucked them gently behind her ear before tilting her chin up. Persuading her watery eyes to meet his. He smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes portraying the overflowing kindness he couldn’t vocalize. “Not if it’s you.”

YN chuckled, a weak smile on her lips. Shaking her head, she carefully shuffled forward. Wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Bucky’s response was instant. Instinctively holding her delicately to his body. Molded against the other. He inhaled deeply, the smell of her shampoo overwhelming his senses. YN pressed closer, the swell of his chest was achingly comforting. His t- shirt soft against her cheek.

“What do you say, I steal a wheelchair and we go up to Tony’s floor. We can bribe his chef to make some of those pancakes with the…” Bucky’s nose scrunched, brows furrowing. His fingertips that had been tracing shapes on her back stilled as he wracked his brain. Mouth twisting with frustration when he came up blank. “What’s the… those color things, again?”

“Sprinkles?” She suggested, pressing her chin to his chest. He glanced down, their noses almost pressed together. Bucky grinned, leaning forward to smack a kiss to her nose.

“Those. How bout we get some of those and we can meet Sam for breakfast?” He asked, squeezing her hips lightly. She nodded, successfully distracted from her thoughts that had been rampant in her head.

“Can he eat those yet? Isn’t he on, like, a hospital diet or something?” YN inquired, wrapping her arm around his waist.

Bucky hummed, helping her hobble out of the bathroom. He had tried carrying her places but she vehemently disagreed. Claiming she would never get better if she didn’t exercise. Eventually, as always, she would get tired and most of her weight would be on him anyways. He didn’t mind it.

“That sounds like a Sam problem.”

“You’re ridiculous, James Barnes.” He grinned at her laughter. His fingertips digging into her side teasingly.

“It’s all for you, sugar. All for you.”

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Note

harry and y/n are famous and dated privately for a while but it didn't work. they meet again at this event and she's with a date, and he gets super jealous. they fuck in the bathroom and he's super rough?

BETTER NOW

SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I’VE BEEN WRITING OTHER STUFF!!!!! BUT I LOVE THIS SO I KEPT IT!!!! 4k of BIG ANGSTY HARRY WARNING!!!!!

It was one of those benefit parties, one of the many Harry had been to in his career. Most of the ones he was invited to he couldn’t make--or didn’t want to attend, but made donations anyways. But this one...this one he accepted, despite the fact that his reason for going was completely selfish.

He was going because Y/N was going to be there.

It was a cause she cared deeply about, having had family who were unhoused, and always made a point to attend if she could. So when he got the invitation and saw the organization and its work, he knew she would be there. She was between movies, a rare period of time off, information he was only privy to because of their mutual friends, the same ones who set them up two years ago.

So on a warm April evening, he was walking into fancy house of a star in the hills, people in suits and long dresses all around him, black cars circling the drive as people were dropped off. Harry smoothed he lapels of his tan suit, straightened the light blue shirt he wore underneath, and sucked in a breath.

It wasn’t even like he was trying to find her. He just...immediately found her in the crowd, a pale pink dress floating down her body, her dark hair swept up into an up-do he knew she loved. She had a glass of an amber liquid in her hand, because he knew she hated wine. She had always been a go hard or go home kind of girl, no half-assing anything in her life.

Which perhaps was why the two of them had fallen apart--they were both workaholics in every definition of the word. There would be whole weeks where they’d play phone chase, and when they finally talked they would both be so exhausted it wouldn’t even fill the holes in their hearts. But when they were back together, it was like fucking fireworks, every moment Harry was around her he wanted to be touching her skin, hearing her voice, consumed in her. And despite as hard as he tried, he couldn’t shake that desire, even six months after they had broken up. It was “mutual” but he knew she wanted it more than him, and he loved her too much to force her to stay.

She’d been filming right after the breakup, a new film that was going to be the highlight of her career so far, and Harry had gone into the studio, pouring his heartache into a microphone and recording booth. He hadn’t seen her face in six months, heard her voice, watched her laugh at someone who wasn’t him. So seeing her in the flesh for the first time since the breakup threw his mind into overdrive.

What ripped his heart out, though, was the fact that a man had his hand on her lower back. A place that used to be his, a place he had treasured, a place he missed for every second of the day. For some reason, he hadn’t thought she would have brought a date. Perhaps that was because the prospect of Harry even putting his hands on someone else made him want to vomit, but as he watched her turn and say something to her date, it was obvious she didn’t feel the same. She was dating someone.

Fuck, Harry thought as he grabbed a flute of champagne from a tray to his left. Usually champagne wasn’t his thing, the headaches after making it not worth it, but he needed something. He wanted to rip his eyes away from her, but he just couldn’t. Because she looked magnificent.

Color in her cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes, the rise of her breasts visible from the scoop neck of the dress, dainty straps that sat on her shoulders that he used to pepper kisses across, the neck he used to leave love bites on visible because of her hairstyle. He couldn’t hear her voice, but he knew what it would sound like if he did, because he still heard it in his dreams. When he told Mitch that in the studio, he had been given the most pitiful look, but it was true. It was why he slept so much lately.

Harry leaned against a wall, eyes on her, ignoring everyone else in the room. He was sure people were trying to get his attention, but he didn’t care--he wasn’t there for them. He had come for her, and he was going to absorb every second of being in the same room as her, even though it made him want to sob.

After about five minutes of watching her, of being an utter and complete creep, her eyes finally swept over to his. Their gazes locked and it was as if the room fell away, as cheesy as that was, because the feeling of her eyes on him made Harry’s mind go haywire. Then he saw her step away from her date, just enough to wear his hand dropped from her back, and he couldn’t help but smile smugly.

He could feel her eyes trace up and down his body, just as his had been doing for the past few minutes. It felt good to have her eyes on him, like a drug being pumped into his system after being without it for so long. A relapse back into loving her.

As if he had ever stopped.

Harry once told her he was built to love her, and he still felt that way. Even though it was hard, even though their relationship was far from perfect, it was still the happiest he had ever been. As she looked at him, her brown eyes swirling over him, he wondered if she felt the same way.

But then she turned her head, her eyes focusing back on the people she was talking to. So Harry went to the bar and got a glass of straight tequila, because he was going to put himself through his own personal torture, he was going to at least have a drink.

An hour and a half later, Harry desperately had to pee. He found his way to an bathroom, almost running into a potted plant he didn’t see.

“Be careful.”

His head snapped up, knowing the owner of that voice immediately. She was leaning against the wall opposite him, a glass perched between her fingers. “What--what are you--”

“Escaping my date,” she replied, and his breath caught in his throat. Escaping her date? This had to be a dream.

“Why is that?” He was trying to keep his cool, but he knew it was slipping fast.

She took a sip of her drink and Harry couldn’t help but watch her lips around the rim of the glass. “He’s had too much to drink and is being obnoxious.”

That immediately made Harry nervous, although he knew he no longer had any right to be. “Are you okay?” He asked anyways, wanting to make sure she wasn’t uncomfortable or felt unsafe.

But she just nodded, eyes focusing on his. “I’m fine. Thank you though.” She twirled the glass in her hand, and Harry had forgotten all about his need to go to the bathroom. “So, how are you?”

“Um,” Harry mumbled, trying to figure out how to both make it clear he wasn’t great but also wasn’t the disaster he actually was. “Okay, I guess. You?”

“Same,” she replied and Harry suddenly found himself analyzing that single word. Did that mean she was still as broken up about their breakup as he was? Or was she actually okay? Because he certainly wasn’t. It was just a better word than “mess” or “disaster” or any of the proper words to describe how he was doing. “Are you seeing anyone?”

The question threw Harry for a loop, making his palms sweat. How could she just throw that out there so flippantly? “No,” he said, watching her face for a reaction, which he didn’t get. “You--oh, I guess your date--”

She shook her head though. “No, he’s not...we’re not together. Just a friend of sorts.”

“Oh.” Now Harry was wondering if they were fucking. Which was something he had been actively trying not to think about. “Well, that’s...good.”

Her eyebrows raised at his words and Harry could’ve kicked himself. “Why is that?”

Because it means you could date me. “I--no reason. Fuck, sorry, didn’t mean that.”

Her lips pursed as her thoughts rolled over in her head, an action Harry knew well. “We’re just...seeing each other? We’re not like hooking up or anything.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.” She stood up straight from the wall and turned away from him. “I--I’ll go, I assume you were here for the bathroom--”

“Y/N,” he said, her name a prayer on his lips, a memory of something he clung to in his moments of need, a name on his phone screen that he barely restrained himself from calling. Then he took two steps towards her, her back facing away from him where she was frozen in place, and against his better judgement, fastened his fingers around her wrist. “Wait.”

He could hear her shaky breath, the drag of air in her lungs when he touched her skin and he wondered if she could hear his heartbeat quicken.

“I--I know I have no right to say this, that we’ve been broken up for months, that you’ve probably moved on.” It was easier somehow to say these things to her back, easier than see her face as he poured his vulnerable heart out to her. “I still love you.”

She exhaled sharply at his words. “You don’t get to do this,” she replied, turning to face him. “Not like this, not right now, not here. You can’t just...do this.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, voice breaking. “I know, I just can’t pretend anymore.”

Finally, her eyes fastened on his properly, and that same feeling that had captured him when their eyes met across the room ran through his body. That tension. “Pretend?”

Harry threw abandon to the wind, knowing this might be his last chance. “Pretend like I don’t think about you every second of the day. Pretend like I’m not jealous of your date. Pretend like I don’t want to kiss you right now. Pretend like I don’t want you.”

Before Harry even knew what was happening, she was surging towards him, crossing the distance, her lips slotting against his and her hands curled around the lapels of his jacket. Harry barely paused before his hands were in her hair, her hair that he was messing up, but he didn’t care because he could taste her on his tongue and feel her body against his, and he could touch her. God, touching her was euphoria like he had never felt before.

Kissing Y/N had always been an experience like nothing else, but after not having it for months it was even better. Their kisses had always consumed him, and this was no different--her hands were all over him, fingers gripping his body through his clothes, breathy moans in her mouth when he pulled on her lip and tugged her closer to him. He was going to take every advantage of this moment, he decided, and not think of what would happen after or how much harder it would be to get over her after this.

So he turned her against the wall, and pressed a hand next to her head for leverage. The angle had her arching into him, chasing his lips with her own, and when her hands tugged on his hair he groaned, low and deep and unabandoned. Then, she slipped her heeled foot up the back of his leg, her dress sliding up, and pressed the back of his thighs. The action had Harry’s pelvis moving closer to her, and they both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Y/N,” he rasped against her lips, his hands moving to try and cover every inch of her exposed skin. His mind wasn’t even operating anymore, overwhelmed with the smell of her perfume and the feeling of her skin under his palms.

“Bathroom,” she muttered, a hand to the nape of his neck. “We--we can’t do this here.”

He didn’t know what this was other than a steamy makeout in a hallway, but he knew she was right. He pushed open the door of the bathroom and flicked on the light. Suddenly, he remembered his need to pee the second he saw a toilet. Her lips were searching for his, but he pulled away, taking a shallow breath. “I like really need to pee.”

Y/N laughed into his neck, before nodding. “Go.”

He didn’t move though, not an inch from where she was leaning against the closed door.

“I won’t leave,” she said, softer this time.

Harry nodded, and with that he stepped away, turning to the toilet in the corner. Perhaps with someone else the sound of him pissing in the same room would’ve been uncomfortable, but he was comfortable with her, even after the breakup and she seemed to be as well. When he was done, he moved to the sink, washing his hands, his eyes flickering to her heaving chest. “C’mere,” he said when his hands were dried, still standing next to the bathroom counter. There was a double wide bathroom counter and only one sink, which meant an open counter.

Without pausing, she was moving towards him, hooking her arms around his neck and leaning in. But Harry had other ideas. He grabbed her hips and turned her against the counter, and then pulled her legs up, scooting her up and onto the top of the counter. He looked up at her to see if it was okay and all he found was puffy lips and blown out irises staring back at him, a tongue darting across her lips to moisten them.

Her dress was pushed up on her thighs, exposing the length of her legs and Harry’s fingers dug into the exposed skin, pulling them apart to slot himself between. Then, he pulled her waist towards him and the minute his covered cock pressed against her center they both moaned, deep and wantonly. Her head fell back and Harry took the opportunity to pull and suck on her neck, no one place too hard to leave a mark, but enough to have her scrambling at his chest to push his jacket and shirt open, searching for exposed skin.

The strap of her dress was slipping down her shoulder, and Harry ran his tongue over the skin, a hushed gasp leaving her that made him smile. He had missed her sounds, the reactions to his touch that had been his anchor to the world. “God, you feel so good,” he mumbled, words escaping his mouth before he could stop them.

But she just scratched at his chest, thumb pushing against the butterfly tattooed on his abdommen. “Harry,” she rasped, and the sound had him thrusting against her, the sound of his name on her tongue making him need her like ever before.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, hand crawling up her body to hook his fingers around the back of her neck. He lifted his head from her skin and found her face, her lipstick a mess. “I want you so bad, Y/N.”

“Then have me,” she replied, and Harry thought he had died and gone to heaven.

He wasted no time pushing the other strap of her dress off her shoulders, letting them slip down and expose her heaving breasts, a bra nowhere in sight. “Beautiful,” he mumbled to no one in particular. Then her fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants and his focus was sharpened. When she popped the button and pushed down the zipper, his hands moved under her skirt, pushing it up around her waist so he could see her underwear.

Which were pink and lacy and practically see through. “If you rip them I will never forgive you,” she told him. “Harry--”

It was too late though, he was too desperate, the material too flimsy, that he pulled on them too hard and the material came apart in his hands. “Shit,” he said, looking from her panties to her. “I didn’t mean--”

She wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled his head to hers, whispering in his ear, “Just shut up and fuck me.”

This was one of the many reasons Harry had fallen in love with her. One of the many, many, many reasons why she lived in his mind rent-free. He pushed down his pants and his briefs, leaving them in a pool around his knees, and tugged the remnants of her pants away. His shirt and jacket were still on but he didn’t care, he just wanted her, wanted to be inside of her finally.

“I--I don’t have a condom,” he told her, mind swirling. He hadn’t needed one in forever, had stopped carrying one in his wallet for whenever things like this would happen with her, but also they had stopped using one a year into their relationship.

She shook her head. “I’m on an IUD. And I--I haven’t...”

His eyes widened. “Not you and...”

“No.”

The information didn’t really properly sink in, but it had settled enough for him to process the basics. That she hadn’t been with anyone since him, that maybe she was as ripped apart by their break up as he was. Maybe he wasn’t the only one suffering. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, fingers flexing across his skin. “Please, H, I--”

He didn’t wait any longer, he needed her as much as she did, if not more. He swipe a finger across her slit, seeing how wet she was, and he groaned when he felt her slickness. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he mumbled in awe. “All for me?”

“Yes,” she rasped, pushing her hips towards his fingers, “all for you.”

He could still read her body like a book he had memorized, a song he wrote himself. She was ready, even though they’d done barely any foreplay, and he was too--he had been ready for her since the moment she kissed him. He nudged his tip to her slit and she gasped at the feeling, his eyes darting to hers to make sure she was okay. But then she hooked her ankles around his waist and pushed his waist, making him slide into her, and he nearly screamed from the feeling. She was wet and hot and tight--fuck she was too tight--and his mind couldn’t focus on any one thing. His hand was clenched against the countertop, barely holding himself together.

“More,” she said, pulling his hair. “Please.”

So he gripped her waist and pushed all the way in, her broken moans filling his ears. She was so tight he could barely breathe and she felt so good, like coming home and finally being able to think again. “Fuck, Y/N, holy fuck.”

“Move, please--”

He didn’t make her wait to finish the sentence. He had a feeling neither of them were going to be able to wait. So he gripped her waist in his hands, his rings sitting heavily against her skin, and drove into her fast and hard. Their skin slapped as his hips moved into hers, and he knew she would probably have bruises on her inner thighs, but she didn’t stop him, simply egged him on with moans and begs for more, his name leaving her tongue every time he pushed into her.

“Like that?” He asked, his voice rough with desire. “Hmm, baby, like the feeling of me inside of you? Bet he couldn’t make you feel this good. Doesn’t know you like I do, doesn’t know how to fuck you right.”

He was babbling, he knew that, but that didn’t seem to bother her because she clenched around him when he spoke, dug her fingernails into his scalp. She had always loved it when he spoke like this to her, told her what she did to him, how good she felt. That didn’t seem to have changed.

“Fuck you so good you didn’t want anyone else,” he said, dropping his head to her shoulder as he thrusted in and out. The sound of their skin hitting filled his ears and he loved it, loved fucking her, loved how she held onto him for dear life.

“Best I’ve ever had.” Her words rang in his ears and he growled into her skin, nipping at the flesh at her shoulder, his former care for her skin gone the moment she said that. “God, H, please, I need--”

“Need more, baby?” He grunted, his hand falling to her clit, sensitive and delicate for him. He rubbed at it in a circle and she gasped, bucking up into him. “Like that? That good?”

She couldn’t even reply, just moved her head up and down, her eyes screwed shut as pleasure wracked through her. He could feel her tightening on him, her high coming fast. His own was barely over the edge, holding back because he needed her to come, needed to feel her spasm around him, needed to feel her hold him inside of her.

“Close, baby?” He mumbled, pulling at her hair, the updo long gone. It was falling around her shoulders in pieces, some still clipped up, but most of it falling.

He gripped the pieces into a fist, pulling her head back so he could suck onto her neck. When he did, her hands scrambled across his chest, finding purchase anywhere they could, red scratches across his skin that he knew would be there in the morning.

His teeth grazed across tender flesh and she shook in his arms. “Come for me, baby. Want to feel you come around me.” He doubled the pace on her clit and drove into her deep, knowing the combination sent her into overdrive.

He wasn’t disappointed. She gasped, her breath leaving her body as she shook and squirmed in his arms, her high crashing over her immediately. “Harry, Harry, Harry,” she chanted, his name the only thing on her lips.

When he pulled her into him, their lips refastening, she tugged on his hair, knowing he loved it, and then broke away to murmur, “Come for me, baby, please, I need it.”

It was as if his pleasure was connected to hers, because the moment she said the words, he had to pull out of her, coming in long spurts across her lower stomach and her pussy, strings of come decorating her like a masterpiece. His breath heaved in his chest and Y/N scratched down his chest, knowing it made his orgasm prolong slightly.

When he was done, he slid his head into the crook of her neck, struggling to find air to breath. He sucked in air, focusing only on the sound of her breathing and the feeling of her fingers pulling through his hair softly, tenderly. “You okay?” She finally asked him, voice dry.

He lifted his head and looked down at where his come marked her skin. “Better now.” He grabbed a kleenex, not daring to see her eyes, and brushed his come away, stealing just one taste that made him moan.

“Harry.” He looked up at her, her dress still around her waist, rest of her body exposed. “I--”

“I love you,” he said, cutting her off. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so in love with you. Never stopped.”

“You interrupted me,” she said, an admonishment that made him smile despite himself. “Was going to tell you the same thing.”

His eyes widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When he kissed her, the sound of her giggle made his heart soar, as if he was being sewn back together on the spot. “Will you come home?” He asked against her lips, sucking and pulling on the flesh. “Need you to come home and never leave.”

It didn’t faze her when he called his house home, because it was their home for a while. What he didn’t know yet was that their home had always been hers, because he was her home. She dusted a kiss across his eyebrow, tenderness seeping from her. “Take me home, H.”

somehow this became a fucking 4K ONE SHOT help me please this took me an hoUR ANd a HalF! i had THINGS I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO!!!! whoopsieeeee

masterlist | concepts/requests always open!!!!

#concept night #good FUCK #i need hELP #anon #answered

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

Hey it’s the same comfort anon! I really loved what did with the prompt!

If you don’t mind I have another rq 👉👈

RQ: You help them out during an embarrassing situation.

Masterlist

Comfort Anon! My first requester! I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I’m glad you think I did it justice!

I absolutely do not mind that you have another request!

I think I’m going to keep all of them in the same post this time around.

Set platonically and within the group since there wasn’t any specification.

You know the drill! Scenario under the cut!

Twilight

“Wolfie...” You try to fight the grin on your face and fail. “What are you doing?”

Said wolf pauses and stares at you thus beginning an impromptu staring contest.

You had been walking away from the camp to relieve yourself when you spotted familiar looking fur running around. It had sparked your interest so you ventured closer as quietly as you could.

When you reach your furry friend, you feel your face split into a large grin.

Wolfie was running in circles and rolling around the dirt trying to catch his tail.

It naturally amuses you greatly and you decided to watch for a little moment longer before Wolfie had actually managed to catch his tail and had begun chewing on it with fervor.

Realistically, you knew it probably itched and the poor thing was just trying to scratch it in the best way he could.

But it was still so adorably cute!

You ask your question, breaking the moment and try to hide your amusement for the sake of the creatures pride.

You can see the moment when Wolfie sees you. His whole body goes still and he stops chewing himself completely. Wolfie slowly lets his tail out of his mouth, making a small thump against the ground, while never breaking eye contact and waits.

You’re not sure for what but the way he’s staring at you makes you think you weren’t supposed to see what you saw. He looks the equivalent of getting your hand caught in the cookie jar and is trying to see how much trouble he’s going to get in.

It’s makes the whole thing infinitely funnier.

Your giggles escape and the animal begins to lower his head to the ground, ears back and flattened.

You’d dare say he looks embarrassed.

It softens your heart to see Wolfie in such a state so you try to rein in one final snort, fail, and begin to leave. “I’ll... leave you to it, Wolfie. I gotta pee. Have fun with what you’re over there.”

With your back turned, Wolfie gives out a pitiful whine that leaves you snickering until you find a more private spot.

Apparently, this one’s taken.

Wild

“Wild...” You say, looking upward until your neck hurts. “How do you manage these things? I swear it’s only you who gets into this kind of stuff.”

“I just want to make eggs for breakfast!” He cries in defense. “I’m sorry for trying to do something nice for all of you!”

“Oh no, I get that. It’s this that worries me.” You sigh and try to get step back and assess the situation. Looking up is a little easier with and you’re able to see a better plan of action.

In theory anyway.

Wild, as mentioned, was about to make breakfast and had thus spotted eggs in a nearby tree. Naturally he wanted to go collect them and feed his friends but there’s one thing he didn’t account on. The mother returned.

That being said, he freaked out enough that he dropped the sheikah slate, nearly fell out of the tree and in the ruckus had also scared away the mother.

He kept the eggs though.

However, when the word nearly is mentioned it’s meant to bring point that he didn’t actually fall out of tree. ...But he still might.

Why?

Because the only reason he didn’t hit the ground head first is because his foot got caught in one of the branches.

So he’s hanging upside down by his ankle and can’t access his tools to even attempt to get out.

This is where you, dear reader, come in.

Wild was actually far enough away and covered by enough foliage that the others haven’t noticed him in this precarious situation. You though, were heading to the creak nearby to wash your face and begin your morning routine.

Wild then yelled just loud enough to catch your attention and had asked for your assistance.

“Are you sure I can’t just get Twilight? Or Time?” You ask him. “I’m sure that one of them can just shake the tree and you’ll be free.”

“NO! Do not! Just-!” He flails around a bit, the branch creaking in protest but doesn’t budge from the spot. “I get into a lot of stuff but neither of them will ever let me live this down.”

“What about Warrior then? Or Legend? He might have a tool of something to get you out-”

“No one else can know! Why can’t you just help me?” Wild begs.

“I have to say I’m little over my head here.” You admit. “Or rather, you’re a little over my head.”

“Very funny.”

“I think I have an idea but you have to catch yourself.” You grin and begin to move away.

“Just make it quick. All the blood is flowing to my head.”

You jog back to camp and take out your sword. A few more familiar faces are awake now and waiting for their food.

“Hey,” Wind greets you with a tired smile and a yawn. “Where’s Wild?”

“He’s a little hung up at the moment.” You smile. “I just gotta go help him for a second and he’ll be back.”

Wind takes the answer for what it is, too tired to read too much into it and nods.

You sprint back and grin wildly. “Try to stay out of my way ok?”

“You couldn’t think of any other solution?” Wild nearly whines.

“This is the quickest way. You said make it quick.” You take a breath and run forward. With your momentum to run what you can up the tree and jump. With the added height to turn to where Wild is and swing in his foot’s direction.

With speed and accuracy on your part, you slice the branch that’s been holding him back and the two of you fall to the ground.

Wild dips into a roll and somehow manages to expertly swipe the slate off of the ground as he passes it. You do a similar motion but angle yourself to not come into contact with your blade.

Together you spot each other and grin, small laughs exiting your mouths as you get up.

“Thanks for that.” Wild pats himself off and turns on his heel. “I gotta get breakfast started but I’ll come get you when it’s done, ok?”

You nod and begin to head toward the creek once more, willing to play as if this never happened.

You decide on the way to not tell Wild that the branch is still stuck on his boot though.

Time

Everyone was in Wild’s house for the day, chilling while they could, since there was little to no activity.

Time had actually retired momentarily to take a nap on Wild’s bed for the afternoon.

It was quiet.

Because the group was afraid to wake up the grumpiest member of the group.

So naturally you wanted to take advantage of the peace and brought your book and sat on the stairs while the boys took over the table and floor.

After a hot minute, you looked up to see that half of the group was gone, haven’t left to do something more chaotic and grinned to yourself.

Behind you the wood of the house creaked under applied pressure. You turned around to look at the cause and saw that Time had woken up from his nap. His eyes were closed and he was mid-yawn as he traveled down the stairs.

You got up from your spot and traveled a few steps to let him pass, but that didn’t happen.

Time hadn’t opened his eye yet and had mis-stepped.

His mistake cost him his pride as he fell down the stairs all the way down to the floor.

“Don’t break a hip old man!” Warrior called out in a laughing voice.

You threw your book onto the table and went to help Time up. “Are you ok?”

“Ow.” He deadpanned and grabbed the railing for good measure. “On top of that, I think I left my shoes up by the bed.”

“I’ll get them” You squeaked around him and dashed up the stairs. In your enthusiasm you over stepped one of the steps and fell up the stairs.

You paused in shame and shock while Warrior lost his battle and started laughing hysterically.

Swallowing the last of your dignity, you dash up the remaining steps and help your friend.

You came back down with an attempt to hold your head up high and held out Time’s shoes out to him. “I think these are yours.”

There was a small smile on his tired face. “Thank you. Are you ok?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. No one saw anything.”

Time snorted and took them from you. “Of course.”

Warrior

It’s was absolutely pouring.

Everyone was wet and there was no shelter in sight. It was dark and loud and everyone still had to continue forward.

No one was happy and everyone was silently fuming at the unideal circumstances.

You were walking next to Warrior, not making eye contact with anyone and you had to stop from commenting that he looked like a drowned rat.

His scarf has no doubt doubled in weight with all the water its absorbed and Warrior kept having to adjust it. It was sagging off of his shoulders and he kept having to adjust it or else it risked falling into the muddied ground.

As time passed Warrior had to continually fix it, and adjust it and he was growing exponentially frustrated with the prospect and was getting fed up with it.

You watched in growing amusement and restrained from offering your help because you were certain that he would snap at you.

In one final moment of baled up frustrations, he threw the scarf in one more lap around his neck and... well... he overjudged the strength needed and it swung all the way around just to smack him right back in his face.

Oh but it didn’t end there.

In his moment of blindness, he mis-stepped and tripped.

He hit the ground on his knees first but kept going, twisting to his side, just missing slamming his face into the mud as well.

You just stop in your tracks and tried your hardest to not laugh.

With hesitant steps, you walked over to Warrior who slowly started to get up.

His entire side was just brown. And Warrior... didn’t bother with showing the emotion on his face.

Just a neutral face of displeasure.

You quickly, helped him to his feet and and began cupping your hands to throw the collected rain water onto him and wipe off the mud.

It’s not helping.

“Not. One. Word.” Warrior takes a deep breath and begins to help you clean himself off.

“Yes, Captain.” You grin and take his hand. “You want me to take the blame? Say I pushed you down or something.”

“It’s fine.” Warrior bites the words as he says them.

You pass a creek.

With the idea in your head, you shove Warrior hard and he goes right into the water like you wanted him to.

“Excuse me!” He screeches as his head bobs above the water.

The mud is washed off as least.

“You’re clean again! No one will know!”

Warrior is not amused.

You grin. “It’s not like you got any wetter.”

“...Why are you like this?”

“I’ll take my thanks in monetary compensation.”

Hyrule

“Hyrule.” You gasp. “Oh no. Oh boy. Don’t go back yet. Hold on. Don’t leave. Stay here.”

He pauses and does what you say, although confusedly. “Ok? Why?”

“There’s a rip in your pants. Huge. I can see your whole-”

“WHAT?” Hyrule grips the fabric and finally catches wind of the tear. It’s long and goes down the side of his leg but it’s... pretty revealing.

“I’ve got some sewing stuff in my pack.” You say dropping your equipment and dashing as quickly as you could. “I can sew it up. No one will know the difference.”

“...I can never show my face again.”

You roll your eyes and make the quick trip. There’s a small part in the reptilian part of your brain that calls to make it a quick mission. Stealth, silence and shadows are your friends and you make it back to camp, grab your supplies and make a break for it without tripping anyone else’s hand.

When you return to Hyrule, he’s sat down a nearby rock and inspecting what he can of the rip.

“I have no idea how you managed this,” you say when you get close to him again. “But I’ve managed to get there and back with no one knowing. I will, however, need you to take off your pants.”

Hyrule flushes bright red instantly.

“...Do I have to?”

“Unless you’re ok with my face being right next to your-”

“No, no, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Hyrule gulps and strips.

“I’m glad you agreed because I, for one, was not ok with that.” You hold your hand out and take the pants from him. “At least your tunic is long.”

“This is humiliating.” Hyrule mutters and sit down on the ground instead of the rock and hugs his legs close.

“Why on earth do you think I stopped you? Someone had to save you from the the ridicule of the others. Like don’t get me wrong, we all like you but there’s no survivors, no mercy, and no alliances when it comes to roasts.” You sat down in front of him and began to sew up the tear. “Any idea how this happened?”

“I think it got caught on a bush?” He rests his head on his knees and avoids eye contact. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“A bush?” You put it down and and stare at him. “A bush?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Hyrule if your clothes are weak enough to rip this badly on a bush then we need to get you knew clothes.” You finish and return to your task of fixing his pants. “We can get Legend and Wild and figure something out. Wild has enough clothes to spare and Legend knows good quality when he sees it. I’ll pay for your new clothes next town we invade, ok?”

“I can’t believe this happened.” He says instead.

“Give me ten minutes and you can at least put your pants back on.”

Legend

They were having a race.

The boys were so bored that they were having a race.

It was between Legend, Wild, Wind, Hyrule and Twilight.

Sky refused to run, Time was content with just watching and Warrior had a bet going so he had money on who the winner would be.

You were the judge and had placed yourself at the end of the strip with a small cloth for a flag and got in position. It was anything goes. Items, sabotage, dirty plays- anything.

Twilight was actually competing on Epona.

“Ready?” You call with a grin. “Get set! GO!”

You hear them take off but there’s a blast of wind next to you.

It’s so close to you that it takes you by surprise so you scream in shock but it ends in a thunk against the tree behind you.

There’s a groan and you turn to see the winner.

Twilight is next and he stops before he could run you over. “Are you kidding me? What the heck did he do? How did he do that?”

Legend is sitting in front of the tree and rubbing his head.

He wins at least.

The others make it within the next minute and they groan and whine but they leave without looking at the winner.

You grin and skip over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder when you get there. “Congrats, Mr. Hero. It looks like you were the- oh my god.”

You kneel next to him and tilts his face towards yours.

He’s bleeding from the face, a cut on his eye and a bloody nose.

“Hey, so you see this tree here?” He spits and it’s more blood.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t.” He hisses and goes to wipe with his sleeve but you stop him.

“Oh boy. Hold on.” You gently take the cloth flag that you have and wipe his face, getting him to pinch his nose as you wipe his cut.

It’s thankfully not deep and not bleeding profusely. With a little inspiration, you take out your bag, your magically enchanted pocket and pull out a potion.

Legend is quick to refuse but you shake your head and splash a little on his face. The magic hits the cuts and is absorbed in his skin.

“Hey!” He splutters.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to explain to Warrior why your face is bleeding?” You smirk and begin cleaning the rest of the blood of him.

Legend pouts and looks away, letting you work.

“I guess not.”

“I thought so.”

Sky

“Oh... that is... not ideal...” You hear Sky say.

With your interest piqued, you turned your head to look at him and what was bothering him.

��Sky, what did you do?”

It... was interesting. Somehow Sky had managed to get his whip stuck in a tree. Not just caught between two branches, no that would have been too easy to pull out. It had somehow wrapped around the branch, at least three times and was too tall for anyone in the group to get out unless they had somehow managed to climb the tree.

The tree itself was also inclined to be easy to climb. You were quick to see that only The Champion could probably scale it but he wasn’t here at the moment.

Twilight kidnapped him to go fishing.

“...How?” You ask and make your way over to him. “How did you do this?”

He glances at you with wide eyes and a bit lip. ”Help?”

“Ho boy...” You take a breath and get up. “This.... I have one solution.”

“Ok?”

“How good is your aim?” You glance up at the problem again. “Scratch that, how good is your throwing arm?”

“Pretty good I like to think.” He admits.

“Ok, throw it over the branch but in the opposite direction. We have to undo the loops first.”

“We? Sounds like it’s just me.” Sky steps closer to the tree and prepares to throw the handle over the branch.

“Well there’s not exactly place for me to step in now, is there?” You put your hands on your hips and smirk.

It goes over one loop just fine.

It still doesn’t budge.

Sky throws it again, misses, tries again and makes it.

It’s only one loop over the branch but it still won’t move.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sky growls and throws it into the air in frustration.

“Ok, hold on, if it just need one more throw-”

He made it loose in the process but neither of you were paying attention. It had sung for a minute, budged and had swung all the way back to to you both coming off of the branch in the process. The inertia was still in motion and it had managed to hit Sky directly in the face while you were talking.

Luckily, it wasn’t that strong of a hit.

“Oh hey!” You grin and try not to laugh. “It’s out!”

“Let’s never speak of this.”

“Come on, it’s funny.”

“Ever.”

Four

“Wild, do you have any towels I can dry my hands off with?” Four asks from behind you.

You were all in Wild’s house once more and currently getting ready for dinner.

“Yeah, top shelf.” Wild replies without looking up from the pot.

You glance back as well to see where Wild would have been thinking about.

Yup, you think, that’s the top shelf alright.

Four is stuck staring at the height and begins to slowly look around.

You get an idea of where he’s going with this and power walk to his side. Your intuition is proven correct when he then attempts to climb Wild’s house and furniture just to get it.

His hands are also still wet, mind you.

You can see his white knuckled grip as he tries to fight the lack of traction and decide to help him out.

“I got it!” He says, when you nudge him aside.

“You don’t.” You reply and copy his movements to reach a singular towel. You’re back down in a split second but the bounty in within your grasp.

“It’s not like you can reach it either!”

“Still took me less time and significantly less climbing to get it.” You toss the towel in his face with a grin. “I doubt you even had good grip either. I thought you were going to fall and crack your head open on the floor.”

“Please don’t fall in my house and crack your head on the floor.” Wild speaks up. “Blood is so hard to clean up.”

“Know from experience?”

“Don’t tell Twilight.”

“Get lower shelves Wild Child.” Four dries his hands and tosses the troublesome cloth to Wild.

He catches it with blinking and shoves it into his apron. “I’ll take your criticism to the manager and see what we can do.”

“Manager? This is your house! You’re the manager!”

“So? I said what I said!”

“You boys done play fighting or are we going to have to wait to eat?” You ask.

...

“I’d like to eat now please.”

“On it.”

Wind

It was your turn on watch and there was nothing to do.

Not that you were asking for trouble but it would have been nice to at least be able to do patrol or something.

But nooooo... For safety reasons, i.e. the storm just beyond your coverings, everyone was supposed to stay within the camp at all times.

You didn’t disagree with it so to speak. It was more of a mild inconvenience.

That was until Wind got up with whispered...but still loud, curses.

You stood up and tip toed your away around the half hazardly tossed limbs of your comrades. “Everything ok Wind?”

He jumps and grabs the blankets around himself, folding them, bunching them together and curling ever so slightly over himself.

“Everything’s fine!”

“Shh..” You put a finger to your lips and look around the group.

No one woke up.

“What’s got your jimmies in a twist kid?” You squat down and place your hand on the blankets. They’re wet and the smell....

Oh you know what happened.

You stand up again and give him the curtesy of not saying it out loud. “I have a plan but you have to do as I say, no questions asked. We can make it so no one will know what happened. Ever. And this stays between only you and me, ok?”

You wipe your hand on your pants and hold out the opposite one to the boy. He stares at you with a red face and contemplates the choice. After only two seconds of deliberation, he takes your hand and gets up.

You suppose that to have an out, verses having to explain to everyone that he’s been looking up to sounds very appealing in the end. Better for only one person to know than ten.

“You’re lucky it’s still pouring buckets.” you say and grab all the blankets from his bed roll that you can. Chancing a glance at him, you see that his clothes are wet as well, pretty much from the waist down. With another thing to fix, you notice that his very bedroll is right by a huge puddle that had been forming and no one knew.

The hand in the glass water trick, then.

Your friends have seen and done that a few times to a few poor unsuspecting soul.

“Ok, here’s what you’re going to do.” You turn to Wind. “You’re going to change out of your clothes and into some clean ones. And then you’re going back to bed in my bed roll.”

“But where will you sleep?” He asks with a hand gripping his shirt

“I’ll steal it from the next guy.” You lie...kinda... That actually sounds appealing but you don’t think on it too much. “I’ll take the next shift to buy time and I’m going to throw your blankets and bed roll out into the rain, ok?”

“You were too close to the borders of the tarp anyway.” You continue with your plan, throwing them out for a second before turning on your heel and getting some of your clothes for Wind.

You think you might have something that’ll fit him but if not, it’s only to sleep in.

He changes into the clothes while you back out to the blankets.

In your search for the clothes, you dug out your powered soap and tossed some of it on the blankets and bed roll. After rubbing the fabric together to get it sudsy and deep into the material, you set it up against the tree and branches, letting the falling rain drops hit it and filter through.

It’s rudimentary and it took you longer than you wanted because now you’re also soaked to the bone and only halfway through but you think back to being a thirteen year old and how embarrassed you would have been and plow on to save Wind from the same fate.

You step back into the tarp and guide Wind, taking his clothes away to where you were sleeping prior. You’re clothes are way too big on him and it’s honestly more endearing than you would have thought.

“Thanks.” Wind says in a small voice. He’s humiliated, you know but you don’t focus on it.

“Your hand got wet and you pissed yourself in your sleep.” You say and shrug. “My friends and I were... are brats and it’s not the first we’ve played that prank. Put the poor saps in a glass of warm water and watch them pee their pants. It’s funny when it’s planned and well... not you. I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” He sits down in your bed roll and begins to get comfortable. “It’s smells nice.”

“I try.” You grin.

“Do I owe you?” He looks up with big eyes and you think that it makes him look younger than he is.

“It’s on the house.” You wave him off and dash back in the rain to clean the rest of his clothes.

On the way back to cover, you kick the support that was closest to Wind’s spot, sending a torrent of rain upon yourself in the process but the spot where the pirate was is considered useless now.

Wind tilts his head from his spot and you grin. “Cover story.”

The rest of night is spent watching the time, watching the others and taking turns with Wind’s clothes and blankets by the fire so that all three of you can dry off before the sun comes up and the other inevitably ask questions.

By morning you’re dead on your feet, but consider it a job well done.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #i know there was no helping out in Twilight's one #My mind registered it as caught instead #but i can't bring myself to change it #this is was actually haarder than i thought it would be #not so proud of it as a whole #my apologies if it shows

291 notes · View notes

whumperooni · 4 years

Text

Pit Stop

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Sister!Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Tags/Warnings: incest, watersports, forced piss swallowing, exhibitionism, blowjobs, cum swallowing, humiliation, crying/crybaby!reader, noncon/dubcon, nonconsensual video taking, mean mean mean big brother Touya

A/N: it’s gross. i’m not sorry.

“Touya-nii...Touya-nii, can we please stop somewhere? I need to- I need to go.”

You regret the words as soon as they come out of your mouth. You’ve been avoiding asking your big brother to pull in somewhere so you can use the bathroom for the past hour and a half- you know it would annoy him and you know he would mock you for not being able to hold it in until you two get to the concert venue.

You hate when he mocks you. You hate annoying him.

But you really need to go.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Didn’t I tell you to go before we left?”

The words come out irritated- sharp and mean. Touya’s always sharp and mean with you, though. You’d think you’d have developed a thicker skin by now, but that’s far from true- even just that whip of annoyance your eyes are threatening to water.

You’ve always been such a crybaby- something that Touya never fails to mock you over.

“I- I did,” you protest, trying hard not to whine and bother him more. “But I...”

You don’t have an excuse to curb his irritation. Touya huffs from the driver’s seat and he doesn’t even bother to look your way whenever you squirm in desperation. Nothing is helping at this point and you’re close to whimpering- tears popping in your eyes as your bladder throbs with need.

“We’re almost there,” Touya grumbles. “You can wait.”

No, you really can’t.

Shame stains your cheeks red and your lips wobble with upset.

You’re such a stupid little baby- you should be able to hold it. Why are you so pathetic?

You sniffle, thighs squeezing together, and there’s another huff from Touya- sharp eyes cutting over to you and his tongue clicking whenever he sees your face scrunched up in both desperation and humiliation. There’s no sympathy in expression; he doesn’t care that you’re close to peeing all over yourself and you know that he thinks that you deserve it for not being able to hold it in like a big girl.

(Maybe you do deserve it, but you really don’t want it to happen.)

You sniffle again and your voices trembles as you beg your older brother, “Pl- please, Touya-nii. I’m sorry. I really- I really need to go! Please!”

Touya rolls his eyes and you hang your head in shame.

You’re such an annoyance to your older brother- why can’t you be a good girl?

“Fine,” Touya huffs. “But only because I don’t want you to piss all over my fuckin’ seat.”

You wince at the thought and open your mouth to thank Touya, but get thrown off track whenever he pulls off the side of the road and turns the car off. Confusion makes your brow knit together, but dawning horror at understanding makes your eyes widen in shock.

“T-Touya-nii, I can’t- not here. Someone will see!”

Turquoise eyes level you with a cool stare and you whimper whenever Touya scoffs.

“And whose fault is that?” he snaps. “You’re the stupid little baby that can’t hold it.”

“But- but-”

“It’s either here or the venue,” Touya tells you with nothing but ice and scorn in the words. “Take your pick.”

He leans over to you, lips flickering with a leer, and you flinch whenever he adds on, “But just know that if you can’t make it and piss in the car, then I’m gonna leave your dumb ass at the venue and you’ll have to find your own way home.”

It’s so cruel, so mean. But you know that he’s telling the truth- Touya’s threats are always serious and you’ve been dealt enough of his punishments to know he has no qualms with leaving his little sister all alone and covered in pee in a city that’s three hours from home.

Tears blur your vision and you bite your lip to stifle a sob, fumble to undo the seat-belt with shaking fingers.

The road isn’t busy, at least- Touya had diverted to a back road to avoid traffic a while back and he’s pulled over by a rice field. There’s not a house in sight and no cars passing by right now so that’s...that makes it easier.

You gulp and leave the car- legs shaking and bladder screaming with each little movement. There’s the sound of a car door closing and you turn your head to find Touya getting out too- arms stretching over his head as he makes his way over to your side of the car and a cigarette finding its way into his mouth.

“C’mon,” he grumbles, lighting up. “Hurry it up.”

Embarrassment flushes all over you when you realize that he’s going to watch, but you know better than to protest- Touya would only punish you and you really don’t want more on top of this.

You bite your lip as you reach under your skirt to pull your panties and fishnets down- eyes averted from your big brother and the way he watches you through lowered lashes.

It’s only when your tights and panties are tugged down to your mid-thighs that you realize that you’ll have to take off your shoes and pull them off fully if you want to avoid peeing on your fishnets and underwear.

A frustrated whine almost leaves you, but you’re able to hold it back- teeth digger deeper into your bottom lip as you bend down to undo the laces of your shoes.

A noise of impatience has you looking up at Touya- fear rippling through you when you catch the irritation on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing? Just go already.”

You swallow, nervous under his stare, and wrap a shoelace tight around your finger as you stutter out an explanation of, “I- I don’t want to- I don’t want to pee on my tights.”

Your voice dips with your embarrassment and Touya rolls his eyes at your nervousness, your shame. The annoyance on his face grows so you quickly tack on a hasty, “And I don’t want it to get on your car seat!” in hope that it’ll pacify him at least a little bit.

Touya scoffs, but he seems to soften just the tiniest bit. He takes a draw of his cigarette and then tosses it to the side, grinds it under his heavy booty while running his eyes over you.

“Turn around,” he orders. “Bend over the front end and spread your legs. Reach down and pull your panties and tights forward and piss like that.”

Getting instructed by your big brother on how to pee has your cheeks flushing in embarrassment, but your body moves on instinct to follow before you can even think to question him.

You’ve learned to follow Touya’s commands without hesitation- your big brother has taught you to be obedient for him.

Still, though, it’s humiliating to bend over the front end of the car and flip your skirt up and out of the way. Still, though, it makes you want to whine when a car passes by and the passenger gives you a shocked look. Still, though, it’s nerve-wracking to spread your legs and pull your tights and panties out of the way when you know that someone else could pass by and see.

You can feel Touya’s eyes on you as you squirm to get more comfortable and you squeeze your own shut as shame floods through you and your bladder tenses painfully.

A whimper escapes from you as piss starts to dribble out of you and onto the grass. You burrow your face into the crook of your free arm and sniffle as your strained bladder starts to release more and more pee.

It would be such a relief if it weren’t for the indignity of it all.

You sniffle more and you gasp whenever a hand falls on your ass- body seizing up in surprise and halting the stream as you look back at your older brother with teary eyes. Touya just tilts his head at your shame- lips twitching with a cruel smile- and you sob when you notice the phone in his hand, how it’s pointed right at you.

“Tell me, little sister, why are you pissin’ on the side of the road like some kind of dipshit?”

Tears drip down your cheeks as pee starts to trickle out of you again and you cry pathetically whenever Touya smacks your ass in warning.

“Because- because I’m a- I’m a st- stupid baby that- that couldn’t wait,” you hiccup out, shoulders shaking.

Touya snickers and you whimper, bury your face back into your arm in shame whenever he moves behind you and squats down, points his camera at your pissing pussy.

“Look at that cunt- you’re getting it all dirty. You can’t even wipe it when you’re done. You’re going to be so fuckin’ nasty at the concert covered in your dried piss.”

Mortification burns through you at his words and that realization. You cry harder and beg for Touya to get napkins from the car. He only snorts in response and you whine pitifully whenever you feel some pee hit against your thighs.

“Pl- please, Touya-nii,” you beg through your tears. “I don’t wanna be dirty! Please!”

“Well maybe you should have fuckin’ thought of that before making me pull over,” Touya says, cruel and full of scorn. “It’s not my fault you’re an idiot.”

The mocking makes even more tears flow and you hiccup through them like an upset child- shoulders shaking and mascara starting to smear.

“I- I’m sorry, Touya-nii. I’m sorry! Please- please-”

A sudden grip to your thigh cuts off your pleading and you whimper as your stream stutters and stops, gasp whenever Touya pulls you and turns you around, shoves you back against the car. A spurt of piss trickles down your thighs and you look up at Touya through tears and confusion.

“You’re lucky I’m such a good older brother,” he sneers. “You better fuckin’ thank me after this.”

You open your mouth to say something- you don’t know what- but you choke on the words whenever Touya kneels on the grass and forces your legs to spread wide, whenever he shoves your skirt up into your trembling hands and hooks a thigh over his shoulder. You eyes widen when his tongue laves up and over the piss streaks on your thighs. It’s dirty, filthy and you squirm as Touya cleans you with his tongue, whimper whenever he bites the soft flesh of your thigh in warning. He ignores your mortified, stuttered “T- Touya-nii, please, no- it’s- it’s gross- I’m dirty- please-” and a cry rips from you whenever he latches his mouth onto your sopping pussy and runs his tongue over it, reaches a hand up to press on your bladder.

Your bladder flattens under the pressure and you sob as you pee into your big brother’s mouth.

Touya doesn’t let you pull away- he grips you hard and keeps your hips still, keeps his mouth tight against your pissing pussy. You can’t look at him- can’t look at anything through the tears blurring your vision- and you whine pathetically as you empty out your bladder, cry as you grip Touya’s hair in search of something to ground you.

When you’re done, Touya stands and keeps you caged against the car- one hand yanking your head back by the hair and the other squeezing your jaw until your mouth pops open. He forces his lips against yours and you panic, wide eyed, whenever something warm trickles into your mouth from his, choke as Touya forces your pee from his mouth into yours. He pulls back when he’s done and immediately smacks a big hand over your mouth to keep you from spitting it out, grins darkly at your wide eyes and all the mortification painted across your tear streaked face.

“Swallow it.”

You have no choice but to obey. You choke down your piss and shake in disgust from the taste, the humiliation that’s flooded through you so thoroughly. Touya only grins at you- cruel and horrible and so, so mean.

You whimper whenever you feel him hard against your leg, but you open your mouth obediently when he pulls his hand away, show him that you swallowed it all down. He lets out a satisfied noise, but there’s something expectant still on his face and you drop your head in shame as you sniffle out a, “Th- Thank you, Touya-nii.”

“Yeah?” Touya jeers. “You think that’s good enough for what I just did? I’m gonna need more than that, little sister.”

Hot tears trickle down your cheeks and you sniffle again as you nod, swipe at your eyes.

You know what he wants from you.

“I-I’m sorry, Touya-nii,” you mumble out meekly. “Please let me- let me thank you prop- properly.”

Touya grunts and backs away so you can kneel on the ground. You pretend like your knees aren’t getting wet with your piss as you reach up with shaking fingers to undo his belt and jeans, pretend like you can’t hear the honk that sounds as someone zooms past and down the road.

You pull your big brother’s dick out from his pants and then you swallow him down- lips smoothing to his pelvis and back up to head as you force yourself to look up at him with still teary eyes.

He’s got his phone out again- recording you while you suck him off- and you whine in embarrassment over it, pray that he’s not going to send it off to Tomura.

You’re still not over the humiliation of the last time he did that.

Mortification prickles at you over the memory and you try to concentrate instead on pleasing your big brother, getting him off. You bob your head faster, reach a hand to play with his balls, and feel a little bit of relief whenever he grunts and his hips buck forward ever so slightly. When he slides his boot forward, you move to straddle it and you grind against it without hesitation- whimpering at the sensation and choking when Touya grips the back of your head and fucks into your mouth roughly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Touya snarls. “Fuckin’ take it. Stupid little slut- fuckin’ whore. Only thing you’re good for is suckin’ me off, isn’t it?”

He yanks your head back and you splutter, whine as spit drips from your lips. A smack of his cock to your cheek has you sniffling and you nod despite the way it pulls your hair, press your lips against his dick as you mumble that what he wants to hear.

“I’m just- I’m just a dumb- a dumb little baby. A stupid slut,” you mumble. “I’m only good for- I’m only good for sucking onii-chan’s dick.”

A growl leaves Touya and you flush as your cunny flutters from the noise, open your mouth wide to take Touya’s dick again. He fucks into your mouth roughly, piercings scraping the roof of your mouth and along your throat, and you whimper whenever he holds you tight against his pelvis, grinds deep into you.

He comes with a one-two-three pistoning of his hips and you choke as his cum floods your throat, swallow it down as quickly as you can. You pant whenever he cants his hips back and forces your head to look up at him, open your mouth wide to show him that you swallowed his cum down- just like you did with the piss.

Touya smirks and he smacks your cheek roughly, lets you go and pushes you back so you fall on your ass.

“Did you learn your lesson?” Touya asks- voice mocking as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

You flush and you nod- cheeks stiff with dried tears, makeup a mess, hair ruined, cunny wet from humping Touya’s boot, and mouth tasting of your big brother’s cum, your own piss.

“Y-yes, Touya-nii,” you mumble meekly. “I’m sorry.”

A snort leaves him and your lips tremble with a pout whenever he grumbles out a, “yeah, you are.” You don’t say anything, though, and just stand up on trembling legs, pull your fishnets and panties up and try to fix your outfit.

“C’mon,” Touya huffs, walking around the car without a look back at you. “If we’re late for this, I’m gonna beat your ass when we get home.”

Panic buzzes in you at the threat and you hurry into the car, buckle yourself in as quickly as you can. Touya’s phone buzzes in the console and your eyes can’t help but to dart over to it, your cheeks flush in shame when you see a text from Tomura.

what a disgusting slut

Your lips wobble and you sniffle as Touya pulls back onto the road and starts continuing toward the concert.

At least you don’t have to pee anymore.

#touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #dabi x reader #bnha #rooni's shit #tw incest #tw noncon #todoroki degens #don't look at me i'm having me time #touya is a NASTY older brother and has just been waiting for the excuse to do this

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