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#^ lie he's on record as swearing almost as many times as people said he never ever swore.
jasmineiros · 10 months
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Taylor Swift is being way to much overhyped that's the problem. They show her down on everyone's throat. She's not legendary just because she is popular and she has many fans.
Seriously, I can imagine NFL fans being tired of seing her face. I for the love of god can't imagine Football fans being fans of her music. She doesn't appeal to every generation and her music doesn't have long lasting impact. No matter how hard they try. It just isn't working.
The damn comparsions like Beatles, Madonna, Michael Jackson. Mostly Michael Jackson. And it's not even fans ( sometimes I wonder if they are her haters who set her up like this). It's also these trashy tabloids. " Oh she's like Michael Jackson." And then they fucking lie to make it seem like she broke one of his records to make it seem impressive. Like once they claimed that she broke the record of the highest crossing concert tour film. Which was previous hold by Michael with This is it. This is it wasn't even a concert tour. He died before he could do any show it was just a documentary. Or that she broke his record of selling the most in the 21 century in a year. This isn't impressive. He didn't even live like 9 years in this century. And he has only released one album during that time while he was still alive. How is that even? I swear...
And of course if you do comparsions like that. People have Standards. And when they see that she can't dance and is a mediocre performer they start dragging her. Well then of course these Swifties come in and say: " Well she is a singer not a dancer. " " She doesn't need to know how to dance. She's just having fun." Well newsflash if Michael Jackson (sometimes for no reason) is constantly being brought up to her name. Of course people are going to expect someone who can perform. As he literally was said to be the greatest entertainer of all time.
"She doesn't appeal to every generation and her music doesn't have long lasting impact. No matter how hard they try. It just isn't working."
This is absolutely true, anon, you are a pinnacle of wisdom.
I might not be the greatest fan of all of these artists you mentioned but they were/are legendary performers. It's almost blasphemous to compare Michael Jackson with her, because if you remove the numbers of tickets sold, people in concerts and the hype of the moment, what do you actually have?
A pop performer who can't perform because as you said, she can't dance and all instruments she holds just seem like adornments. She is basically supposed to be a doll on stage and she actually is, because the impact she causes on me is basically the same as an inanimate object.
Everyone is expecting a pop singer to be not only a singer, but a dancer, an actual entertainer. You can see even Blue Ivy, Beyoncé's daughter, puts a great effort in her dancing and her improvement is actually pretty visible. I find it insane that someone that has that amount of money can't do the bare minimum to actually perform her job decently.
"No, but she has been through stuff"
My sister in Christ, Michael Jackson had to deal with the fact he had to deal with traumas he would never get rid of due to his abusive father and being a black minority in a deeply racist country. Having to deal with break ups is not "being through stuff", it's just what a very average person has to deal with.
But I don't know, maybe we're just all wrong. At this point she can just take a big shit on stage and they will cry their eyes out for being disruptive.
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breathplayed · 1 year
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4, 6 & 8 💜
below cut to save dashboards!!
(4) what is the plot bunny you've been carrying the longest? ooouuuuhhh..... so many............ So many............ i have full fic outlines from 2017 LOL but the most viable one is a jikook au where they're both vampire hunters + jimin is Turned + jungkook swears to hunt him and be the one to kill him bc it's "what he would have wanted" some good ole lovers to enemies bullshit Once Again. every year since 2018 i've thought it'd be a fun three-part fic i could post for halloween and have never gotten around to it. lately i keep thinking it'd be good for an original novel (hello lesbians <3) but then i would have to actually worldbuild and write well which is daunting......... so back to the drawing board every time...... Maybe Some Day
(6) do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best? 💀 i always tell myself i will try to write a little bit every day, and there's been periods where that worked well enough for me, but tbh i write the best and most when i am daydreaming about a fic idea and get batshit possessed and fuel a Fixation. in those moments i am seized by insanity and sit down to write for about 4-6 hours straight in the dead of the night and manage several thousand words in one sitting. the record is 10k for DSD pt1 in like a day, and when i wrote the 90k fic that is WBIO in like 3 weeks off the high of not having any responsibilities in early lockdown (incl almost 20k in one sitting)
So kind of a mix.... When I have more free periods of the year i tell myself *trying* to stick to a schedule is good, like "ok i should go TRY to write at least a little every day, and if it doesn't work and im not feeling it today that's fine" but I can't lie, most of what I put out is the product of a feverish manic haze. Where i daydreamed too hard about a fic idea and accidentally came up with the whole plot and exact dialogue lines and need to bullet point it immediately before I forget it all. I am tormented by visions
(8) what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it? Constructive criticism: not exactly a fan unless I ask for it lol, just bc I think it's kinda rude to offer constructive criticism unless it's asked for? So I already automatically feel a lil cornered. I spent a year as an art major bringing paintings in for concrit sessions, I can take it, but that feels like a facilitated environment where I knew I was opening myself up to hear things so I could improve..... however, I'm not super interested in 'improving' writing beyond naturally improving by doing it.... bc it's just a hobby if that makes sense? I'm also usually super aware of how/where one of my fics is weak (example: i Know my worldbuilding and side characters and settings are not the most fleshed out, that I usually only focus on the main pairing/conflict and let everything else be a cardboard cutout, RIP) and just didn't put the work in to improve it bc I want to have Fun doing this hobby and struggling with fixing weaknesses is not super fun. Yes i am very lazy but it's ok it's fanfiction posted for free not something I'm trying to publish ukno. I'm a perfectionist in other ways! It balances out
Important to note I define constructive criticism as like "it would have been better if you did x instead" and a lot of times in fanfiction that's just people's personal tastes. I do consider everything readers say to me! Like someone said they didn't think the side characters served any point in "folie à trois" and it's just me inserting my faves, I Considered that opinion. There's been times I consider feedback and changed how I continued in a story, like in TLG people said they wanted more Jimin pov/motives and I said hmmm yeah that's valid I'll do more of that. In the aforementioned case for Folie, I considered it and decided (1) no, they're there for jk to see that Everyone is a lil fucked up and (2) it's my fic i can put my kpop girlies in it if i want lol. So sometimes 'concrit' is really just someone saying 'what you wrote wasn't to my personal taste' and not actually anything to do with the quality of the story/plot/style whatever itself.
Feedback overall tho, I do always want to hear from readers!!??! How a story made them feel especially. Tbh , TLDR, I think it really depends on the tone.... My relationship to it is on a case by case basis..... like I'm fine hearing that a character/plot frustrated someone, that they disagree with a character's actions, etc.... because that's Conflict in the story and I think good writing makes the reader Feel something..... it really just depends on what is being offered? if something is obviously mean spirited (which I have gotten) or offering concrit without asking like telling me "btw this would have read better if you didn't write like a possessed failed poet" i'm like ok well i have no plans on improving that. I am down to clarify any points of confusion on a scene/character/etc but I will not be improving. Lol
I hope that makes sense sorry I rambled as always. I took one of my adhd meds for the first time in weeks and now I am tachycardic and overexplaining myself worse than usual. Thank u for the ask <3
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into-thev0id · 2 years
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I just need to vent and let this one out. I’m not ready to tell my friends or family. Or maybe I’m too fucking nice and don’t want to bash my ex even though he’s a piece of shit person.
I spent the past 5, nearly 6 years of my life with someone who ultimately showed me the “love” I don’t want nor deserve. I basically begged this man to love me for almost 4 years. Sad isn’t it? The last year is the only time I truly felt loved by this person.
There has been so much back and forth, breaking up and making up, and every single time when we get back together- we’d be swearing that things would be different.
Just two months ago, almost three- I had made the call to break up due to things he cannot refrain himself from doing (I.e dm-ing women behind my back, following random women and women he claims to not be attracted to.) And immediately after he does all the things that knows hurt me. Whether it’s to hurt me or not, who knows- but it’s still being done. You don’t do things like this to someone you claim to love.
After every dispute I usually get sent his profile from tinder or bumble. It honestly would never surprise me if he was already up there.
I do not and will never understand someone who has lost your trust so many times, and can try to convince you that they love you, and at the sign of any disagreement tries to rip you to shreds. (I.e. “the only reason I stay with you is bc my dog loves you”, “you’re not very smart,” “you can’t do anything,” “you don’t bring value,” etc.) To believe that they are baffled at your distrust is absolutely insane.
He came over to my apartment one night after the last breakup to give me the remaining things I had. He was sad as fuck, apologetic as fuck. Promising me my wildest romance dreams. Telling me I was all he needed and wanted and that social media validation didn’t matter to him. He even made his own decision to delete his Instagram, unwarranted. I gave him all the reasons to keep it but he really made me believe that he was here for me and told me he knew he was the one for me. It’s honestly sad and laughable looking back now. I really bought it and thought, finally- the moment is finally here. Maybe he is the one for me. So I gave it another shot, but I told myself at the next slight lie I can spot- call it off. I really hoped that moment never came.
Flash forward two months later, the moment comes. He downloads Instagram and reactivates the account he swore he deleted and told me. Now I don’t know about you but it’s pretty clear to see the difference between deactivating and deleting… but besides that, he did that and had the nerve to tell me, that he “wasn’t thinking”, he “didn’t want it” and that he’d delete it as soon as he could. Only for me to find out that wasn’t true.
Because I’m me, I noticed something he did in our last breakup. The first three people he went to find to follow again were three women I have accused him of being attracted to. Why? Well for one he can’t miss a post, he always somehow looks for these women first after every dispute, and I’ve seen him flirt with these women online whether it’s be on twitter or a dm on Instagram trying realllly hard to talk to them. I brought this up to him and suddenly I become the bad guy.
Honestly I just know now this man does not know how to healthily discuss important things. That could’ve been an opportunity to strengthen our relationship. Instead he chose to shit on me. Made me feel less of a person for even feeling any type of way though I thought this was someone that loved me and would console me.
You’d think huh? I’m obviously wrong.
Anyways- I broke up with him on Friday due to the lie of him telling me he’d delete his Instagram. If he was going to do it, he would’ve did it then or at least said something to me. He kept instigating me and my feelings.
A weekend goes by- he stays idle. Monday comes and here we go. The follow train. Honestly this was a world record for him because normally it takes him less than 24 hours.
And surprise, surprise it’s all the women I have ever accused him of. Funny how it’s usually always the same ones that he goes to look for. The ones he could somehow never talk to in front of me.
And it’s crazy that he really made me feel seen and understood the night we made up for the last time, i felt loved and finally understood.
Point now is he doesn’t care. He put me in a shitty position, and now I have to handle a medical procedure on my own. I had many plans for the rest of our lives together bc that’s what I really saw with this person, or at least tried to. It sucks to have that being ripped away from you in a matter of a second.
It just really fucking hurts when you spend such a long time trying to trust someone who has mishandled your heart so many times. I really wanted this to be different but it obviously never will be and I forced myself to make a decision I didn’t want for the better of our lives. I don’t have to train someone on how to treat me. How to be a thoughtful partner. How to have empathy.
It just sucks man. I will never understand how someone who has ever claimed to love me could do shit like this to me and my heart back to back to back for damn near 6 years straight.
Im always left embarrassed. Shattered. Sad.
I know I’ll eventually be okay, but fuck him for this and fuck me for giving 6 years of my life to someone who obviously never deserved me or my time or my money.
I gave him everything I had to offer.
My last ex beat me physically, this one abused me mentally and verbally. I’m hoping and wishing for someone specially different who will never dream of hurting me in the future. I see it possible in my friends’ relationships and my parents relationship. I know it’s somewhere there for me too. I hope I meet you soon. For now, it’s just me and my healing.
I’m better off. I’ll be happier. He will too.
I just know that the difference between us is that he’ll be trying to fill a void, and I’ll be the one actually fixing myself. The next person I meet I hope to be the love of my life. The one who will make it make sense on why it never worked out with anyone else.
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sugar-petals · 3 years
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can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;
i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.
myg at home headcanon
🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points
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The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.
Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.
He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.
Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.
Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.
Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.
Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.
What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.
He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.
Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 
Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.
Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 
Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.
There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.
His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.
Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.
Owns lord knows how many comic collections.
Favorite holiday destination: New York.
Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.
Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.
Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.
No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.
Chronically addicted to making out.
Matching black outfits and glasses.
Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.
Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.
It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.
He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 
If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.
If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.
If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.
He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.
But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.
He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.
If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.
In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.
Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.
Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.
Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.
He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.
Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 
This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.
Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.
Yoongi shaves his legs.
All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.
He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.
Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.
Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 
Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.
Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.
Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.
Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.
He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.
Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.
He collects pajamas and earrings.
Swears on the phone.
Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.
Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 
He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.
Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 
Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.
Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.
Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.
Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.
Scrubs the bathroom religiously.
The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.
Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.
Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 
Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.
He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.
Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.
Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.
Couple sunrise watching. 
© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.
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shotorozu · 4 years
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hellooo,, i saw another tiktok video(and since ur like the elite on writing this type of reqs im requesting to you aha) https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJYsk4CY/ for shoto, kaminari and monoma (if u write for him) ty 💕
‘bae lol’
(the greenscreen heart, then kiss tiktok trend)
character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, monoma neito (bnha)
legend : [Y/N = your name] for monoma reader’s a part of class 1-A, they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific
headcanon type : fluff (x reader)
note(s) : oh, i absolutely love AND hate this trend, it’s mostly bc im single though :,) not like i can get a partner in the pandemic. anyways! i love your thinking, anon <3 also no proofread bc its like,, 2am here </3 will edit later!
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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todoroki shouto
he’s very aware of your tiktok antics, but out of all of the ones you’ve pulled on him, and asked him to do
he loves this one the most.
because shouto doesn’t have to get the lights scared out of him, and it doesn’t have a chance in ending terribly.
you brisk towards your room, knowing that shouto rests inside— “shou!” you call out to him, and he tilts his head up
“Y/N, tell me it’s not—”
“no, i swear!” you drop next to him on the bed, and you play the video. “this would be fun to do, right?”
he doesn’t say anything at first, but he definitely wants to do it, judging by the fact that he’s replaying the tiktok over and over again.
abruptly standing up, he tugs at your wrist “let’s do it.” he says with determination hinted in his voice
you’d think that he’d get the hang of doing tiktoks because of you but LMAO NO— the greenscreen failed you both multiple times in a span of 40 minutes.
the first take, the heart was blurry, the second take, the kiss was captured seconds before the kiss, and the third take— your phone fell 💀
plus, his movements were a little stiff the first few times, but after the third try— he definitely got the hang of it.
and,, he doesn’t understand tiktok effects, not even the slightest.
on the brighter note, he has more excuses to kiss you so,, it’s a win for him! he won’t get sick of doing any retakes :))
you knew the moment he focused on making the perfect heart, as he firmly pulled you close to kiss you
that, would be the perfect shot there. he almost forgot that there was a camera recording
shouto is seen replaying the filmed tiktok over and over again— and it might’ve looked odd to anyone else
but not to you, definitely. for you, it’s the norm to see him like that.
“do more trends where i could kiss you more.” he pecks you on the lips, before he leaves you be temporarily only to edit the tiktok, ofc
the tiktok itself blows up by a ton, gathering 2M likes, and 5M views, in a surprising amount of time, and you didn’t even notice how he placed his hand on your hip
until the comments pointed it out to him. which shouto replies with “i always do that. you just didn’t seem to notice.” it’s fine bc you do now
the comments consisted of “where can i find a guy like this 💔” “haha that’s so cool *blocks*” “okay but we sEE THOSE HANDS 👀”
nonetheless— please do more trends like that with him. don’t be afraid!
shouto rates the entire ordeal a ♾/10. can and will do it again. oh— and he saves his home and lockscreen as the final outcome from the tiktok. he did a screenshot it, and decides to keep it like that for a very long time
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kaminari denki
again— this man is ALWAYS on tiktok, so he’s aware of most of the trends there. but that doesn’t make them any less scarier
but oh wow, he loves this trend. denki was just praying that you’d see it— and ask him to do it with you.
he was grateful that luck was on his side, since he was ecstatic when you skipped over to him— asking him to do a tiktok trend
“oh, what tiktok trend? wait— please tell me it doesn’t involve me breaking up with you for a week so you could listen to drivers licenses—”
“what? no— let me show you” and when you showed him the tiktok, he showed you this cheeky little smirk
“let’s do it! the sooner the better!” he says, and he seems more excited that you 💀
denki’s so enthusiastic, to the point that the first few takes are a total fail— as he makes you fall over your feet, as the result of quickly pulling you onto him for a kiss.
“denki— one of these days, you’re going to shatter my face”
“sorry, sorry!” he grins sheepishly. and it’s a miracle that he didn’t accidentally short circuit!
you guys try again, still persistent in getting at least a decent video, and this time— when he yanked you, causing you almost slip
he tightened his hold on you, a hand pressed against the small of your back and another hand dangerously close to your bank
the kiss is eager, passionate— and he holds you like you’re on the verge of death
and this flusters you because MAMDKWDK what happened to the goofiness 💀 i suppose that’s what happens when you have an eager denki kaminari.
you upload the video, thinking it would only get 5 likes at the very most— but it exceeds your expectations
though most people couldn’t get a clear view of your relationship dynamic with him, denki’s enthusiasm did attract the attention of 2.8M people
and in a good way, because the video did get 800k likes
the comments consisted of “when he caught you when you almost fell :,)” “damn he was EXCITED” “hey, have you told us where you got your boyfriend? i need the link to find someone like him NOW‼️‼️”
the bakusquad fawned over the video weirdly, but it quickly gets overplayed by denki— since that’s all he watched for a week or so 💀
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monoma neito
bruh </3 as much as he loves you, you’re going to kill him with pranks one of these days.
he’s totally in on it if HE’S not the one being targeted, but most of the time,, neito’s the subject of your pranks
so he thinks it’s another silly prank, where you make him pick a number between 1-5 and ghost him for that many hours.
but when you show him the video one day, when you guys were chilling in your room— as per usual, he declined :,)
“sorry dear Y/N! but no. that’s my answer”
“but whyyy?? it’s so harmless!”
“the class is going to tease me for being a part with a silly tiktok like that.” and besides,, he’d be a hypocrite for participating in that kind of tiktok with someone from class 1-A.
in reality, he did want to do it. he wasn’t so sure on why he said no— but he does want to show that something so easy isn’t really a bother to him.
“oh- don’t be so sad about it! you know what?” he gently pulls you up, “let’s do it. i don’t care what those silly class 1-A kids will say anymore.”
“what? i thought you said you didn’t want to.”
“have you ever heard of a lie?” he clicks his tongue, but he’s glad that you’re feeling much better than you did 10 seconds ago.
when it comes to it, he’s actually really shy about it. not like a ‘i don’t want to be seen with you!’ more like ‘gosh, how many takes is this going to take? will i be able to kiss them properly?’
“what if i end up accidentally copying their quirk? neito— focus, damnit.” he thinks to himself, brushing the anxious feeling away.
he’s determined enough to stay focused— but man struggled a bit with cooperating with the heart shape.
“neito— not that heart!” “well, you said to make a heart, so i did!”
it takes a few tries for the greenscreen to cooperate, and for you guys to get in sync
and when he finally has to kiss you, he grins at you— a very obvious blush adorning his cheeks, as he smashes his lips with yours
then he remembers that he actually has to break free from you— and forces you guys apart, still trying to play it cool
“wow! i look awesome. only i could kiss you like that, right? i don’t need an answer, because i know it’s true!” he says with that proud laugh of his, but it immediately dissipates after the second replay
neito leaves you be, not only for you to upload the tiktok— but also because he needs to THINK WHAT JUST HAPPENED he’s running laps in his mind rn
you upload the tiktok, not worrying too much about it— as you wanted to let it sit for a while, before checking up on it
however— when you open your phone again, you get bombarded with multiple text messages from kendou, and the other class 1-b students.
“you and monoma went viral!” is what you can sum up about most of the messages, and you have to see for youself— wanting to know if the tiktok really did get 800k likes and 1.9M views in a short amount of time.
spoilers ‼️ — it did
the comments were mostly like “why can i smell the dynamic from a mile away 💔 i want that.” “he’s definitely annoying to everyone but you” “sHEESH the way he smirked before he kissed you 😩✋‼️‼️😔”
monoma flexes on a daily that he did that to your class— but he HATES how class 1-b wrecks havoc on him, by teasing him
in short— he does prefer this more than being scared. and! he didn’t have to verbally ask you for kisses 💀
»»————- ♡ ————-««
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission
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gingeraleluke · 3 years
Text
𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀
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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: tom holland x fem!reader
𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: your boyfriend got home just in time to watch his most recent interview on tv with you.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, nothing just fluff! :)
𝗔/𝗡: this is my first time writing for tom so i hope you guys like it!! <3
this is based on the spider-man: far from home interview with jimmy kimmel!
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
the young girls heart was silent for the first nineteen years of her life. nothing but a faint heartbeat and some clouded thoughts of little to nothing inconsistencies. from the moment she first opened her eyes as a baby, separating her fingers and spreading her toes while her newly polished eyes tried making sense of her surroundings, to the ripe summer when her mother insisted she become a camp counselor to succumb enough money to buy her very own long-overdue car. the girl felt nothing.
the teens she longed to be alike were a mere hourglass, y/n a shadow. portraying their success and growth without mirroring any of her own, she felt like a weak duckling surrounded by marvelous swans. she would spend her youth watching blondes fall for brunettes on television, plopping popcorn into her mouth while pressing rewind on her favorite romantics, watching the way they would look at eachother and move with one another. she never thought she could be able to experience that. everything inside her was too quiet, too plain.
and then she met tom. it became loud, too loud, and she loved it. everything she thought she could never achieve, she achieved with him. her colorless days no longer existed and she fell deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.
switching the tv from some medical soap opera, y/n sat on her couch. she wore nothing but a plain bra and a pair of baby blue satin shorts. normally, she’d cover up more, especially if she had company over, but tom was a different kind of company and a comfortable one at that.
“THOMAS HURRY UP!” she could hear her boyfriend yell a faint, “i’m coming,” through the noise of the water running. shortly after, the shower stopped as y/n scrolled mindlessly through her phone, impatient.
she expected to see her boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, a trail of steam behind him, but instead she heard the loud roar of a hairdryer.
“for fucks sake-“ her mouth was lacking the salty and buttery flavor she craved so she took the opportunity to use her time by putting some popcorn in the microwave while her boyfriend blowed out his hair.
as she watched the minutes on the timer go down, the machine dinged as she grabbed a bowl and poured the snack inside it. she made her way back to the bench sofa and extended her legs out on the grey island cushions. the lace on the trim of her shorts tickled her feet as she folded her legs. “TOM HURRY THE FUCK UP, ITS ALMOST STARTING!”
the girls mouth was full as she yelled, losing patience with the boy. “IM SORRY, IM COMING!”
minutes later, a shirtless tom holland, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, appeared in their shared living room. the girls eyes grew big, his doing the same as he took in her taboo and exposed form.
“what- tom! you haven’t even gotten dressed yet?!”
“well, neither have you, apparently! plus, this is pretty comfortable, is it not?”
“tom-“ she warned.
“i got it, i got it..” his bare feet slapped against the hardwood floors as he quickly ran into their bedroom and retrieved his clothes. he came back out wearing a black t shirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants.
“KIMMEL IS STARTING!” she pointed at the tv and looked over to see tom bounce down onto the couch next to her, sprawling his legs out like she had done earlier.
“baby, that’s just the intro, i’m not there yet.” she peered over at him.
“who said i’m watching this for you?” he turned his head and made a sarcastic face.
“yeah, sure..” he mocked.
“WAIT, i need my blanket! go, get it, i don’t want to miss this!”
“y/n, it hasn’t even started yet-“
“now tom!”
“but what if i miss it!”
“you were there, you already know what happens-“ you lightly shoved his clothed knee and he sprung to his feet, so fast that tessa jolted up and ran after him.
“tessa! calm down!” the dog didn’t listen and continued following her dad, panting the whole way back.
once they were settled, jimmy announced his upcoming guests before a quick commercial break.
“quick, my ass..” she muttered.
tom stifled a chuckle. “why are you so bent up about this? you’ve seen my interviews before!”
“yeah, but i’ve never been able to actually watch one with you! it’s like… an entirely different experience!”
he didn’t believe her. “are you sure that’s the real reason? or is it because you just want me to give you secret info on the film, because love, you know i can’t do that, not after last time.”
she placed a hand on her chest playfully, “tom! i would never, how could you think of me like that?! as if i would ever do such a thing!”
“mmhmm..”
the commercials came to an end and y/n looked up to see jimmy start announcing the cast.
“shit, oh my god, it’s happening.”
“shhh, calm down!” tom laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, his other arm sprawled out behind the frame of the sofa.
“how can i keep calm!? my fucking BOYFRIEND is about to be on tv! you know how many people can say that they are dating spider-man? like, no one!” her knee was bouncing and she couldn’t contain the excitement. watching someone on television while sitting in the same room with them was a rush she had never felt before.
she was loud as hell inside.
“please welcome, tom hol-“
“WHOOOOO, YEAH!!” she started clapping dramatically and stood up for a quick second, her eyes glued to the tv as she watched her boyfriend appear, while her actual boyfriend sat there laughing at her excitement.
they did a stupid elevator bit, before him and everyone else walked up to their chairs.
“really, tom?” his dark eyes flickered to hers. “what?! i thought you would like it, it’s funny!” she rolled her eyes and smiled, thinking to herself: my boyfriend is a dork, even on national television.
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“oh my god, you all look so good.”
“i know, right?”
“look at jake!”
“yeah-“
“look at zendaya!”
“i know-“
“OH MY GOD LOOK A-“
“OKAY Y/N, i get it, everyone but me is attractive, thanks. you’ve made it pretty clear.” he frowned as you gushed over how good his coworkers looked.
“yes, tom! i think you look awful, that’s why i’ve been dating you for the past four years, because i think you are ugly.”
he looked at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his eyes.
“oh, come on, i’m joking! you’re beautiful, come here.” she grabbed the side of his head and pulled him over so his head was laying on her chest. she began to play with his hair while watching.
“so the trailer came out, the trailer got like 135 million views within the first hour-“
“yeah it did!” she exclaimed, her fingers busy in his hair.
“see, i didn’t know that then.” he muttered, his brows furrowing together as tessa looked up at him from y/n’s lap.
“well it’s no secret, i’m not very good at instagram.”
y/n bursted out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but all of her emotions where heightened in this moment.
“oh god, i know where this is going.. this is the zendaya story isn’t it?” you smirk down at him and he lifts his head to nod at you.
“i knew it..”
“i basically.. forgot to post the trailer.”
“that’s bad.”
“yes jimmy, yes it is.” she couldn’t contain the snickers leaving her mouth and tom protested against it.
“listen, it’s difficult for some people, okay!”
“mmhmm, whatever you say baby.” she remembers distinctly, waking up and asking her boyfriend why he never posted the trailer, which caused him to wind up into a frenzy and immediately contact zendaya for assistance.
“well, you wouldn’t tell me how to!”
“tom, you’re a grown man! you should be able to figure that out yourself, peter parker.” she leaned over and kissed his cheek, his arm wrapped around her.
“so you’re IT for the team?”
“yeah, y/n, making poor zendaya the it for the team-“
“oh, shush, it was funny as fuck. but not as funny as the time you spoi-“
he placed his finger on her lips to quiet her, “oh, stop it!” she giggled in response.
she watched as zendaya recalled the moment she had to screen record how to delete an instagram story for him, which was another thing y/n refused to help him with. sure, she loves him and all, but watching the panic on his face as he realizes that he messed up, always cracked her up. especially since he brags about how ‘tech savvy’ he is for his age.
“it’s not my fault you’re a grampa!”
“yeah, we’ll, you’re dating a grampa!”
“true, i am.”
her hands reached towards her blanket as she put her popcorn bowl down and laid the covering over her and her boyfriend. the grey weighted blanket matching the couch perfectly.
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“okay, wait…why are you guys still in highschool?!” y/n had paused the program to engage in a very serious and heated discussion about the aftermath of endgame which led up to the beginning of his new movie, far from home, which had yet to come out.
“i mean.. it’s five years! i’m so confused.” tom sighed, placing his hands on his knees, he sat up straight. “like i said in the interview, y/n, i don’t know.”
“well… ask the russo brothers! i mean, jacob is right, that’s a huge plothole!”
toms eyes sparkled as he looked at his lover trying to make sense of the whole thing.
“i… i don’t even know what to say right now. my whole life is a lie!”
“okay, let’s not get too dramatic here-“
“NO, tom! as an avengers fanatic, i need to know!” she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, his body jolting forwards.
“tell me!” she shook him as he laughed and tessa barked.
“i don’t know, baby!” she frowned slightly and looked at her boyfriends amused face.
“i’m dating spider-man, you’d think i’d get the inside scoop.” she rolled her eyes and placed her legs back up on the cushions. tom leaned over and looked her up and down, flickering from her bare chest and her eyes. he leaned into her neck and started planting kisses. “i’m sorry, i will be sure to ask someone at marvel for you.” she smiled sweetly before thanking him.
“has everyone seen avengers: endgame?”
the girl rose to her feet, the blanket stuck to her bare legs. “yes, jimmy, i have! i saw my boyfriend get dusted right before my fucking eyes!”
tom remembered the first time he watched the film with her. it was hard for him to keep it under wraps and while he did end up telling her some spoilers, he kept out the whole ‘death by thanos’ part.
“okay, calm down little one.” he reached his arm out to pull her down, back to the couch.
“tom, baby, i know you like.. could get in trouble for it but-“
“y/n… not this conversation again.” he put his hand up to his forehead, two fingers on the bridge of his nose. she knew that if she prodded and poked in all the right spots, that her boyfriend would give in. that it just took a little push for him to confess all the dirty details of his new blockbuster.
“come on! i am begging, tom- i have so many questions, can you blame me? i mean… mysterio, like.. what’s that guy all about?! he’s a villian right?”
“well…”
“a hero?”
“definitely not.”
“antihero?”
“not exactly-“
“UGH, tom! you are killing me here.” she whined, putting her hands on his chest as the paused tv shined upon his features. “please give me something… anything.” she trailed her fingers down his chest, tauntingly.
“anything?” he smirked at her.
“yup. like… maybe just exactly what jakes character is? i mean, i remember him telling us at dinner that time, but that was barely enough, i mean.. there’s gotta be more right?”
“go on.”
“and mj, i mean.. is peter finally going to ask her out? baby, so many questions, i just have so many.”
“well… i guess i could tell you one thing..” he tempted her. her lips twitched upwards as she pressed her forehead against his.
“mmhmm?”
“i could tell you that… the ending of the movie?”
“yeah..”
“is fucking fantastic. really, it’s brilliant babes.”
“because?”
“you will just have to see-“ he was cut off by his girlfriend hitting him in the face with a pillow.
“FOR FUCKS SAKE TOM-“
“quiet down! you are going to get tessa all going..”
“sorry…”
a moment of silence passed as tom squealed, “for fucks sake tom!” in his best high pitched, y/n impression possible.
“shut up!”
the two laughed before she clicked play.
“you look so good here, tom. it’s so weird like- i’m sitting next to you-“ she pointed at tom, “but, there you are on tv!”
“you are just realizing this?”
“well, it’s like inception!”
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“i was told, it was a wedding!”
her chest boiled with anger as she quickly hit pause. “NO BECAUSE, fuck you for that! i remember being all excited, thinking tony and pepper were gonna have a beautiful wedding, only to see hes fucking DEAD.”
tom couldn’t hold in his laughs. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know!”
“well it’s pretty obvious, tom! everyone’s sad and in black, baby, you really are an airhead.”
“hey-“ she cut him off with a kiss to his lips.
the two cuddled up while watching the interview, small laughs leaving their bodies.
“like, zendaya! when did you find out how endgame ended?”
“oh, i remember. me, jacob, and zendaya were all in a facetime call freaking the fuck out, while my boyfriend over here, was chilling like nothing was wrong.”
“you guys were in a facetime call?” he questioned.
“yes! i was heartbroken and i had gotten a call from z who was clearly also upset!”
“well, he’s fine clearly! i mean, i wouldn’t be in far from home if peter was dead, right?”
she looked up at him, his heartbeat still lingering on her skin. “so you can tell me that you are still alive, but you can’t tell me about jake gyllenhaals character?”
“well, it’s a given! obviously peter is alive!”
y/n groaned, her head now resting on his chest.
“dating a superhero is difficult.”
“aww, poor darling, i’m sure it is.” he peppered kisses along her forehead.
“hey! you ate all of the popcorn?!” tom was flabbergasted, his voice heightening a few octaves.
“yep, and what about it?” her tone dripping in sass.
“i wanted some, for one!”
“too bad, maybe if you would spill the deets on far from home, you’d get some of my popcorn. hell, tom, if you confess right now, i’ll make you a whole bowl!”
“no.”
“well it was worth a try!”
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“i can’t believe it’s over.” the house was completely silent, the only thing audible being tessa’s light snores.
“i’m gonna miss that guy..”
“baby, i’m right here.” he placed his hand at the small of her back, looking at her lovingly.
“i’m talking about mysterio.”
“oh, yeah, great!” she giggled at his response. “he’s just so hot, tom! way hotter than peter-“
“yeah, maybe if you think manipulation is hot!”
her mouth fell agape at his words.
“what?” he said, oblivious to the screw up he just made. she smiled widely at him as he slowly was hit with realization.
“oh, fucking damn it!”
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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years
Text
Internet Friends
@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 4: Internet Friends
~~~~~~~~~~
You know the internet is a magical place. You can connect with people all over the world in a matter of seconds. You know what isn’t magical, your best friend enrolling you in a ‘coffee seminar’. Like seriously Adrien I love you like a brother so what the hell. I’m busy enough as it is without giving up my Saturday morning on the only day I have free for months.
Sure my school and social life is a flaming pile of garbage thanks to a little liar manipulating almost everyone who was my friend. So why, but if anything this little online seminar may just be the thing I need.
Okay not what I needed. The coffee seminar was apparently a coffee intervention workshop. Big surprise there, what was a welcome surprise was I wasn’t the youngest person there. Through out the entirety of the web seminar they sent private messages back and forth completely ignoring the speaker, only adding in when asked. Buy the end they decided to share emails, and that was how Marinette found herself a, hopefully, friend and at the very least a partner in caffeinated crimes.
She would mainly email Tim rants about school and the akuma. He at first tried to see how open she was to help, from the JLA, to come in and help the Parisian heroes. But she shut that down quickly by explaining how the villains powers work and how many of the heroes tend to be emotional when they fight even if they don’t show it.
He in turn ranted about his brothers and how they tried to hide his coffee and the stress of his work. Which sparked the conversation of what he did. Sure she was surprised when she found out her new friend was Tim Drake-Wayne so she decided to let him into her being MDC after he couldn’t find the designer and that he wanted a commission for a gala in a few months.
They ended up, either video chatting or messaging often to rant or brainstorm for their respective projects. Or just send each other dumb photos or memes to brighten the others’ day.
---
Mari doesn't know how this came to be but it did. She was walking along the second floor railing. She was going to meet Tim face-to-face as he was going to pick her up from school to do a fitting before sending out his suit.
He had messaged her that he was in front of the school. So she said to meet her in the court yard. To her dismay her classmates formed a half circle pinning her back to the railing.
"Seriously Mari, why would you do that?!" Alya screamed at her the eyes of the entire school and of a black haired blue eyed boy, now on their group.
"Do what exactly?" she questioned adjusting the straps of her backpack.
"I can't *sniff* believe you don't *sniff* remember, Mari. It was so mean *sniff*." Lila choked out burrowing her face into Kim's sweater, who looked disgusted with her.
"One, I still don't know what I supposedly did. And two, only my friends call me, Mari, and you aren't on that list." she turned to leave but they closed in on her. Unfortunately, Adrien and Kagami left earlier for a tournament. Luka was out of the country as was Chloe, so she didn't have anyone to break her out.
"You two aren't, but we are!" Alya shouted motioning to herself and the others In the class.
"We haven't been friends for years," she thought, unfortunately she said it out loud.
"What?!?" was chorused by the entire class.
So she took a breath. "There are only two people I consider friends within our class, both of which are not here. Why are you all surprised?" A tilt of her head and a perfect look of innocence crossed her features. "You all claim I'm a bully, why be friends with bullies. I'm just ripping off the band aid you are all to scared to touch."
"You're lying they are still your friends can't you see that!" Lila stopped sniffling and came to the class' defense.
"Really. I want them to think and think hard of the last time any of them sought me out to talk or hangout. Not tell me or accuse me of something, or demand clothes or sweets." They were all silent dead in thought. "The reason you can't is because it hasn't happened since Lycee."
"That's not true Mari, we are your friends," Rose piped in softly.
"DC we've been friends forever, this isn’t like you." Kim pleaded.
"Ya we were friends for a long time, so you should know I hate liars and I never lie." Everyone seemed to register her words.
"Oh get over yourself!" Lila snapped pushing her backwards.
The bad part, she was already on the edge so she was falling from the second floor. Fortunately for her, her time as ladybug along with being a gymnast since she could stand, her body reacted, her mind catching up a moment later. She grabbed a sprinkler pipe and turned a few times, held herself upside down and then swung again. Letting the bar go twisting in the air and shifting her backpack. Everyone on the first floor scattered to the edges of the courtyard to give her space to land without obstacles. As she finishes in a rollout to protect herself and her backpack now clutched to her chest.
"What was that!?" Lila screamed gripping the balcony railing, her facade completely dropped. Everyone else stood shocked silent, frozen in place, until one black haired blue eyed boy stormed up to the bluenette.
"Mari I swear the first time we meet up and you do that. God I am never going to leave you with Dick." Tim stormed up to her. "You are going to give me a heart attack."
"Hey Tim," she chuckled in response.
"That said I am sending this to him."
"Go ahead. Coffee?"
"You know me too well," he grinned as they began to leave the still frozen, still silent school yard. "So what are you going to do about them?" he jabbed a finger behind them.
"Dunno how much did you record?" she pointed to the phone clearly in his hand still.
"Since the first scream, but audio is kinda off from that far."
"I got that part covered," she took out her phone from her jacket pocket. Now her class started to move so both coffee addicted teens started to record again in case of anything.
"Who is this Mari?" Nino genuinely asked.
"He is a friend, and he can use that name unlike any of you."
"Best friend actually."
"You will have to fight Adrien for that title." she teased.
"I got Gami's approval. I can take Sunshine on."
"That was an acknowledgment and we all know it."
"Why haven't we ever seen him before then?" Alya snipped.
"I'm not from Paris, much less from France, if the accent didn't give it away. I'm visiting on a trip with my father and wanted to stop by." The two just walked away after that.
Who would have guessed that being forced into a coffee intervention seminar would result in gaining one friend and loosing a class worth of dead weight. And oh did it feel good to walk away from that toxicity. Unfortunately she still has to finish this last year of school before University. At least she has people she knows will stand beside her. All thanks to the magic of the internet.
~~~~~~~~~~
Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @miraculouspenta @adrestar @vixen-uchiha
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britishassistant · 3 years
Note
Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.
Thank you for the ask, dear anon!
“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”
Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.
“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.
“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”
“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.
The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.
One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.
Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.
Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.
Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.
Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.
“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”
“...”
“Deuce.”
Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.
“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”
A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”
“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”
“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”
“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”
Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.
All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.
They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.
The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.
Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!
“What is the best type of tea?”
Huh?
“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”
The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”
The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.
“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.
The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.
“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”
Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”
“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”
“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.
“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”
Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.
Blinks again.
“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”
Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.
The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.
There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.
The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”
The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.
One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.
“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”
Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”
There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.
“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.
The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”
The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.
“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”
“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.
“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.
“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.
“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.
Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”
The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.
“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”
“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”
“Why you little—“
“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”
There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.
Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”
“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”
“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”
“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”
“Sh-shut up!”
“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”
“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”
Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?
“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.
“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.
“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”
The disembodied hand punches him in the face.
Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.
A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”
There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”
“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?
The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.
And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.
They’re surrounded.
“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.
“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”
“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.
His grin grows unsettlingly wider.
“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”
Wait, what—
The hero’s body vanishes.
Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.
Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!
“NO!!”
There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.
Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.
“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”
The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?
Yuu looks up.
Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.
They stare at each other for a moment.
Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.
The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.
Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...
The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.
Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.
Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.
He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.
The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.
Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?
Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?
But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?
Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.
Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?
Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.
Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?
...
This is a terrible idea.
But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?
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fundy-simp · 4 years
Text
Fundy/GN!Reader - Two Days [11,010 words]
Fluff! For this anon! You were lucky enough to join your European friends on their trip to England and in the process you got to meet your wonderful boyfriend Fundy. Oh, you also got to get the wrath of TommyInnit witnessing his friends in a relationship. (/lh I love Tommy) I have so much fluff for this idea guys, I’m going to write some really cheesy bits for this and I’m going to love it >:] Also there’s a very intimate scene in this, not spicy or heated but idk I felt like I should mention it just incase. Ignore the botched plane stuff, lines that are off from the vlog, and the slightly rushed ending, I was getting a little frustrated with how long this was taking <//3 I promise tho I still love the request and I’m very happy I could fill it in a way that I’m at least mostly happy with. Anyways as always please feel free to scroll past if anything about this makes you uncomfortable :)
Your fingers tapped on the arm rest, leg bouncing as you grumbled, how long does it take a plane to land? Immediately you laugh at yourself, it takes a while. You need to calm down, it’s not like your one plane landing away from your closest friends and the man you quite honestly see as the love of your life! Of course not. It’s just a normal first ever trip to England. This is absolutely fine.
...
You’re entirely lying to yourself, your heart feels like it's going to explode as it beats in your ears. Fundy’s going to be there, the man who’s brought you endless hours of joy and smiles. The man who’s pulled you out of countless panic attacks. The man who you’ve had to lovingly bully into making sure he eats and drinks enough. The man who you’ve fallen asleep in call with countless times. The man who all you’ve ever wanted to do to is yank into a kiss and never let go.
Fidgeting with your seatbelt for a second, you groan and you pull your hands up to your face, resting the heel of your palms on your eyes. You all have known each other for months and logically you know it’ll go fine. But your brain isn’t known for listening to logic, or you for the matter, so when anxiety starts to boil in your stomach you’re not surprised. So many things could go wrong you couldn’t even begin to list them.
It took the plane actually touching the ground to land for you to pull your hands off your face and realize you didn’t hear a single thing the pilot just said. Quietly you waited for them to say your good to go as you readjusted your mask. Good god, your fidgeting is starting to annoy you, what are all of your friends going to think? You sigh as you feel the plane finally stop, waiting till you see other people standing up before standing up yourself.
Slowly the passengers started to leave the plane and carefully you followed behind, trying not to get too close per social distancing and all. Nervously you pat your hands on your thighs, waiting patiently while the flight attendant checked your temperature. Once you got the okay you shuffled off the plane, your eyes scanned over everyone in the airport, looking for any of your friends.
After a few scans you finally spotted Wilbur, how it took multiple tries to spot a man who towered over everyone is beyond you, but aside the point. As you started to jog towards him you see Tommy pop up next to him, "Ayyyee y/n!!" he basically yelled and Niki shushed him, whispering something to Tommy before you see him huff. The scene made you smile, he was definitely just as loud as you expected him to be.
“Hey Tommy!” you replied, you’re still anxious but actually seeing your friends in its own way has calmed you down. Once you get over there Niki pulls you into a quick but tight hug before Wilbur flung an arm around your shoulder.
You couldn’t see his smile, thanks to his mask, but you could recognize the way his eyes were crinkled. “Hey, y/n! How was the flight?” he asked as he started walking, pulling you along with him.
“Oh it wasn’t-” You looked around for Fundy, frowning slightly when you didn't find him, “It was okay. Where- Where’s Fundy?” You asked, unconsciously rubbing your knuckles together, you know he wouldn’t lie to you but a lot of previous relationships made an uncomfortable pit grow in your stomach.
Tommy from the other side of Wilbur let out a bark of a laugh, “That dumbass overslept and missed his flight!” he shrugged, “Don’t know why he still bothered getting another flight but he should be here soon.”
“Yeah, he’ll be here. We’re gonna go get your luggage then we’re heading to his terminal.” Will said as he gave your shoulder a couple of pats, “Don’t worry your lover boy will be here soon!” he couldn’t help but laugh at his own lighthearted teasing while you turned red.
You could hear Tommy gasp as Will said the second part, oh god. You guys never told Tommy you were dating, you both managed to keep it under wraps for an upwards of five months. “You and Fundy are dating?!?!” He yelled, earning himself another glare from Niki that he ignored, too lost in his own laugher, “Oh my god, this is gonna be so great! I’m going to make this so awkward.”
Groaning at the sound of Tommy’s ‘I’m definitely causing mayhem and you can’t stop me’ voice, you sigh and pull Wilbur off of you before looping around to Tommy. He was definitely taller than you but that didn’t stop you from hooking your arm around his neck and pulling him down to your level “Tommy. My main man. My good friend. My best bud, if you will... I swear if you ruin anything within the first thirty minutes, I will personally assure we leave you in an alley after 9 pm.” You gave him a stern squint as he just stared at you. After a few seconds and Niki and Wilbur giggling, you give him a noogie before letting him go, “I’m joking, I’m joking! But, seriously, at least thirty minutes.”
Tommy huffed as he ran his hand through his hair a few times, “Bro what the fuck?” He stopped for a moment, seemingly remembering you asked something of him “... Fine. But you owe me one!” He insisted, you just rolled your eyes and agreed.
By now you had all made it to the baggage claim and you carefully looked for your backpack to make sure you didn’t grab someone else’s by mistake. Once you spotted it you quickly ran to grab it before returning to the group who had moved and sat on one of the rows of benches in the middle of the room. You could see Niki mumble something to Wilbur before he nodded, “You guys whispering gossip without me?? God, my own best friends would really hurt me like this huh?” you say dramatically as you pulled your backpack on.
The two immediately shook their heads, “No, no! Of course not, how could we live with ourselves if we did?” Niki replied, her voice sounding just as dramatic as yours. You both cracked into giggles, them falling into her words as she spoke “But anyway, Fundy might be a little longer so we’re just gonna wait here.” she patted the seat next to her and you happily plopped down.
The next ten minutes were filled with Tommy talking about basically anything he could get away with, future video ideas, Dream SMP plot, at one point you're pretty sure he started talking about SMP Earth, but you couldn’t be sure. It was a nice filler conversation, sometimes one of the others would jump in and say something but you just stayed quiet for the most part, stuck in between the weird middle ground of anxious and very, very tired from your trip.
When you accidently started to doze off you felt someone carefully wrap their arms around your shoulders. “Oh, Fundy...” You say quietly, leaning into the touch for a second before almost jumping out of your skin, “Holy shit, hey Fundy.” You said pulling yourself out of his arms before jumping over the bench to tackle him in a hug. “You’re actually here. Oh my god.” you are trying your damnedest not to cry as you finally learn just how comfortable his hugs really are.
Fundy holds onto you a little tighter when he hears little hics come from you, changing his stance just enough to be sure you both don’t fall, “I'm here, y/n. I really, really am.” he said quietly, burying his face in your hair. “I love you so much.” he pulled you away from him, pulled down his mask so he could place down light kisses everywhere on the exposed skin of your face, making you giggle.
“I love you too, dork.” You reply before pulling your own down and tugging him into a kiss, it was a slow one, full of unfamiliarity and so much love. It made your heart flutter more than he already did and you honestly didn’t think that was possible.
When you both pulled apart you were forcibly reminded by Tommy making very exaggerated gagging noises that you two were, in fact, not alone. “My eyes! Wilbur my eyes!! It’s so gross it's blinding me!” The teen jokes, still fake gagging. You and Fundy just rolled your eyes while you pulled your masks back up, neither you expected anything different from him.
Wilbur just sighed and lightly shoved Tommy, “Great job, you lasted almost five minutes, that’s a record I’d say.” Tommy just replied by flipping Wilbur off which sent the whole group into hysterics. He tried to defend himself but all his sentences just devolved into laughs so he gave up. All you can think about is how this is home, laughing so hard with your friends that you cry while you lean on your boyfriend.
Once everyone calmed down Fundy made sure his backpack was on fully before stepping over the bench. Niki let out a laugh as she jokingly scolded him, "The bench really isn’t that long, you could have just walked around, you know?"
Fundy just shrugged, "I mean, y/n just did it! I'm just following their lead!" he said, a shit eating grin on his face that made Niki sigh.
You chuckled as you walked around and the rest of the group got up, "Well, who's hungry? I know y/n hasn't eaten in at least five hours so why don't we go get pizza or something?" Wilbur suggested, fishing his keys outta his pocket.
“Fuck yeah, pizza!!!” Tommy yelled excitedly, quickly stealing Wilbur's keys and sprinting away.
Will stuttered for a second before running off after Tommy, "Motherfucker, not again! Get back here, you aren't even old enough to drive!!"
You, Fundy, and Niki followed after the two, laughing at their antics. Fundy softly entangled your guy's fingers, placing his forehead on the top of your head for a second in place of a kiss. "Oh my God, you guys are already attached at the hip-" Niki said, laughing more, you know it's lighthearted teasing but it still makes you blush.
"Aw, come on Niki! I thought you'd be the one to not tease us!" you said in a joke whiny tone, hiding your face in Fundy's shoulder.
Niki started to laugh harder, "Oh- Oh hell no, this is just the beginning!" she said, you couldn't see her face but you could absolutely hear the devilish grin. You lightly bonk your head on Fundy's shoulder a few times out of embarrassment which caused him to giggle. Oh. That's so much cuter in person, holy shit.
Sighing, you hear Tommy scream making you snap your head in his direction, Wilbur had him by the wrist, wiggling his keys out of his fingers. Tommy let out a loud laugh as he basically sprinted away from Wilbur to the doors of the airport. “Oh, we got outta here faster than I expected....” you mumbled mostly to yourself, watching Tommy fling the door open at full force and quickly close behind him.
“It was probably longer than you think, you were just too distracted by a certain Dutch to realize it.” Wilbur said while he pushed the door open with his shoulder, lingering long enough for the rest of you to walk though.
"Shut your dirty crime mouth, Soot." you say through a groan, you weren't actually mad, of course, but if they were going to be like this this entire trip your pretty sure your just going to stop existing.
Fundy let out a quiet laugh at your behavior before responding to Wilbur, "I don't know, I feel like this is a win for me! I get all of y/n's attention and you called me 'a certain Dutch' instead of other things." he smirked, still laughing a little.
Wilbur snapped his fingers, "Oh yeah! Of course my bad, a certain furry was distracting you y/n!" he said happily, as he directed the group towards his car and Tommy who was basically already there.
"Noooooo!!!" Fundy grumbled as he brought his free hand up to his face.
Tommy stood at the car now, trying to open the front seat door “Shut up furry boy, I want pizza!” he shouted, trying the door again.
A mischievous grin crossed your face as you lifted his hand up near your face, "It's okay babe, I love you even though you're a furry!" you teased him, which made him groan.
"No no no no no! Stop it!!" he pulled his hand out of yours, causing you to frown, before he crossed his arms and stopped in the middle of the parking lot "I'm not a furry and you know it y/n!! My own partner for fucks sake." You could tell from his high pitched voice that he was joking but you still felt a twinge of guilt in your stomach
Carefully you grabbed his wrists and tried to pull his hands from his face but he pulled against you, “Noooo, sweetheart I’m sorry.” You say in a soft voice, now trying to pull his hands away with a good portion of your body weight. “Baaaaabe, please...” you pleaded, you could feel him tense and shuffle his feet to better support your weight, his hands still not moving. “Oh, this is just unfair now!” you say exasperated.
Fundy tried to keep his pouting bit up but quickly broke into a laugh, it was the fox esque laugh he normally did, it still makes your heart flutter “Unfair!? You’re the one supporting, like, all your body weight on me!” You giggle as you start to lean down towards the ground more, making him wobble for a second before steadying out.
“Holy SHIT, I was supposed to make it awkward but you guys are doing a fine job on your own! What the fuck guys?!” Tommy complained. You turned his way to see him grumpily crawling into the back seat of Wilbur’s car, “Now stop being in love, it’s gross and I want pizza!” He shouted as he slammed his door.
You immediately let go of Fundy, almost stumbling to the ground out of embarrassment, “Listen! In my defense this is the first time I’m meeting my boyfriend! I feel like this is warranted.” you said as you got up and made your way over to the car.
“Y/n you’re gonna have to sit in the middle seat, I’m pretty sure the other two tall bastards would die if they sat there.” Wilbur said as he checked everything up at the front.
You shuffled into the middle seat, trying your best to not get into Tommy's bubble too much as Fundy sat down next to you. The drive was relatively short, only about ten minutes, and he felt even shorter when you absentmindedly cuddled into Fundy. He happily wrapped an arm around you as he rested his head on yours.
Tommy tried to complain about being stuck in the back with you two but Wilbur derailed him and got him to go on about their trip to an arcade yesterday. If you’re honest you weren’t paying attention at all but he seemed very excited about his vlog guns and you were glad he was having fun. Sighing, you lean into Fundy just a little more and he hummed quietly, if the car ride was any longer you’re pretty sure you both would have fallen asleep like that.
When Wilbur pulled the car to a stop you both begrudgingly leaned up from each other and everyone filed out of the car. Quickly you guys made your way into the restaurant, you and Fundy ordered your pizza first, just a simple medium where it was half his favorite and half yours. After they handed you your table marker you went and sat down, you and Fundy had your own both while Niki and Wilbur had one near and Tommy sat at a table by himself.
Fundy looked at the table marker in disbelief, “OH- Y/n, y/n. Holy shit, look at what table number we have.” he looks at you, quite literally making the pog face at you, which makes you giggle.
“What is it?” you ask, trying to push your giggles down as he showed you the table marker, it was bright yellow and had 69 written on it, “YOOOOOOOOO!” you said much louder than you meant to, making him break out laughing.
“Guys- Guys, you need to see this.” Fundy insisted as he turned towards the rest of the group, presenting the 69 table marker. Everyone fell into a heavy giggle fit, laughing more at another’s laugh causing a laughing feedback loop.
You bang a fist on the table a few times, struggling to breath, why were you laughing so hard? You had no idea, but man, the serotonin it gave you was wonderful. Eventually you all calmed down, the other three going back to their conversation while you and Fundy finally calm down. Silence grew between you two, it was comfortable but you’d be lying if you didn’t want an excuse to hear your boyfriend’s voice. You dig into your mind, looking for a conversation topic for a few moments before finally finding one. "So how was the plane?" you ask him, absentmindedly putting your hand on the table to tap some random tune.
His eyes flicked to your hand, smiling a little as he recognized the tune, one of Wilbur's songs, "Terrible if I'm honest, I'm unbelievably exhausted but it's okay. I'm here with you so it doesn't bother me at all." he said softly, his eyes full of love.
Blush creeped onto your face, something about him prioritizing you always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Before you could reply Tommy spoke up from his table, "That is the worst and cheesiest shit you could have said, you fuckin’ Simp." he was deadpanned for about two seconds before he cracked up in his bark of a laugh.
"And what about it Child Innit? You couldn't talk to someone you were interested in if you tried." Fundy retorted but his words lacked any bite to them, still it made you giggle as you heard Tommy sputter. Your friends bickering has always been the funniest and oddly coziest things.
You stop tapping the table and lean over it to lightly smack his shoulder, "Come on that was just uncalled for!" you say though a laugh, which makes him laugh.
Finally your food gets there and you both dig in, it wasn't until you took the first bite that you realized just how hungry you were. Thanks to that, the pizza didn't last long and soon the space was filled with your friend talking again. Wilbur was asking what to do next, since he really didn't have a plan, Niki suggested they go walk around town to find something to do while Tommy suggested that you all go to Wilbur's and watch Hamilton since he hadn't seen it yet.
A little to your surprise, Wilbur agreed with Tommy, mentioning how Fundy looked like he was ready to drop like a bag of cinder blocks and you had to agree with him. So once you all were fully done, Fundy paid for your pizza, Niki insisted on covering all of them but he wouldn't let her. As you all packed up to get back into the car you watched Fundy slip the table marker into his pocket, putting a finger to his lips while you both giggled. Finally, you all piled back into the car and headed to Wilbur's, which was a much shorter drive than you expected, you were much too used to America's commute times for this.
Once you were they're you all followed Wilbur up to his apartment, carefully you pulled your shoes and mask off before flopping down on his couch and getting comfortable. Fundy followed after you like a lost puppy, a little tell tale of when he got tired is that he got clingy, it was undeniably really cute. Once you sat down he sat down next to you and cuddled into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and craning his neck slightly to rest on your shoulder.
You pulled an arm up to ruffle his hair before turning and placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. He just hummed, stifling a yawn. Pulling your arm down, you turn to Niki who sat on the other end of the couch, "So how have you been Niki?" you ask, it's been a while since your last one on one conversation with her.
"Oh I've been okay!" she said happily, her eyes vaguely watching Tommy and Wilbur fight over the TV remote, "Been thinking about getting into art again, I'm not really sure yet though." she continued, trying not to laugh when she saw Wilbur basically sitting on top of Tommy, remote in hand.
A smile spread across your lips as you also tired not to laugh, mostly not to disturb your almost sleeping lover, "Oh really? That's great to hear!" you say as Tommy curses Wilbur out, insisting that he should have just let him pull Hamilton up, "I think you should go for it, especially if it makes you happy! I bet your fans, especially fanartist, would love it." you encourage her, you didn't interact with the Minecraft Youtuber fan community often, but a hunch told you that you were right.
"Maybe, maybe..." she nodded, it was hard to explain but you could tell she seemed at least a little more sure of herself now. By now Wilbur had let Tommy off of the ground as he pressed play on Hamilton. You've never seen the actual musical but you've heard all the songs enough to know them by heart, whether that was a good thing or not you couldn't tell.
Once the musical started playing the Wilbur and Tommy scrambled to the two recliners on either side of Wilbur's couch, getting comfortable for the long show. You frankly didn't watch it all that much, mostly just listening as you closed your eyes and rested your head on Fundy's. All your movements were deliberate, you were being very careful and highly aware just to make sure you didn't jolt him awake. Not that you were sure he was asleep, but you'd rather be safe than sorry.
You basically spoke it into existence because within the next five minutes you notice his breathing even out and the hand on your hip becomes loose, limp even. You silently curse to yourself as you realize just how badly this is going to hurt his neck. After debating with yourself for what you would call way to long you decide to catch Niki's attention, "Psst, Niki, Nikiiiiii," you say quietly, dragging out the second 'i' till she looks over at you, "would you mind if Fundy rested his feet, well legs- he’s fuckin’ tall- his feet would be more on the arm rest- on you? I don't want him to hurt his neck." you say gesturing to him.
She gives you a quick nod and you lightly shake Fundy's shoulder, "Hey baby, lay your head down in my lap, I don't want you hurting your neck." you whisper, he grumbles some but listens to you. Once his head is in your lap he pulls his legs to his chest and seemingly falls back asleep. Noticing this you look up at Niki and shrug, she shrugs back with a soft smile before turning back to the musical.
Carefully you run your hands through his hair and he unconsciously leans into the touch making you smile. He's a lot more fox-like than he'll ever admit but that's okay, he doesn't need to admit it for it to be cute. With your boyfriend much more comfortable you happily turn your attention to the screen, absentmindedly messing with his hair as you sing along to the songs under your breath.
When the musical ended Tommy let out a loud cheer, which caught everyone off guard and definitely made you jump which in turn made Fundy jump awake. “Oh shit- What happening?” he asked as he sat up and straightened his legs while rubbing his face.
“You passed out during one of the best musicals ever, dickhead.” Tommy replied deadpan and all Fundy replied with was a very confused and tired face. Tommy scoffed and looked away, making you laugh, how and why that boy was always so dramatic you don’t know but it was undoubtedly entertaining.
Shrugging, Fundy leaned over and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, “Hey, babe.” he said, lingering just long enough for you to place a kiss on his cheek back before leaning away again. “So what’s the plan now?” he asked, yawning.
“Well, Niki did suggest we walk around and just look for stuff to do, so why don’t we do that?” Wilbur asked, “Especially since now Fundy’s had a nap and all.” he stood up and stretched, groaning quietly.
Fundy followed after him, much to your surprise, and as he stood up he looped his arm in yours and pulled you up with him. You halfheartedly groan but don't stop him, "I'll be honest I've barely seen the ocean, let alone literally any other country." you mostly mumble, processing just how embarrassing that is to say to a bunch of Europeans.
Tommy shot up from his seat, "You've never seen the ocean??" he basically screams, getting a lighthearted smack from Wilbur, "Guys. Guys. We gotta go to the boardwalk, y/n would love it, it's considered-" he faked gagged, "-romantic."
You roll your eyes but don't argue, slightly leaning on Fundy for a few seconds before you lean up and gently place a kiss on his lips. There was a slight second of surprise on his face before it melted into a lovestruck look as he looked down at you. Your heartbeat was in your throat, that is a look you'll never get used to, a look that says you're the only person in his world, or at least the only one right now.
Before you could kiss him again Niki lightly shoulder checked you, oh shit, when did she get up? "Get your shoes on lovebirds." she said, you looked around to see the other three were basically already to go and scramble away from Fundy, your face going bright red.
You quickly make your way to your shoes, pull them on and put your mask on, and open the door for the others. The other three filed out, Wilbur waiting by the door frame and once you shut the door he locked it. “Aye, y/n, do you mind if I vlog? I’m a vlogger now!” Tommy asked as you all made your way to the street, he dramatically dragged out how he said ‘vlogger’ making you laugh a little harder than you meant to.
“Go for it big man, I don’t care if Fundy doesn’t.” You reply, threading your fingers in Fundy’s while the group starts walking, Tommy and Wilbur leading the group.
Fundy shrugged, “Since y/n’s okay with it, go crazy.” he agreed, Tommy let out a cheer and shoulder checked Wilbur just to mess with him. You can’t help but chuckle, “What’s so funny?” Fundy asks.
Waving your free hand you laugh a little more, “Oh, just seeing Will and Tommy in person reminded me how I thought they were actually brothers before we all got close.”
He looked at the two in question, squinting his eyes for a couple of seconds before he nodded, “Yeah! I see it, they definitely act like it.” he said as they burst out into a Hamilton song, Niki laughing as she joined in. Before you knew it Tommy had pulled out his phone, recording their shenanigans with a bright smile on his face.
It was all really loud and energetic so you and Fundy just quietly watched as the chaos unfolded. Tommy picked random times to start vlogging, catching half conversations and shots of the town. It all felt familiar even though you were the only one who didn’t really stream or do youtube, but it reminds you of when you just chill in their streams, mostly in the background to vibe. After a bit of wandering around you all ended up at a little food stand, getting a small snack before you went onto the boardwalk.
Once you all finished your snacks, Tommy started recording again, “I never know what I should record with these things.” he said, turning to look at Wilbur who just shrugged.
“The trick to making a good vlog is to just record everything, like just go up to people and ask ‘Hey, can I vlog?’“ Wilbur said, talking slightly with his hands.
Tommy groaned, “But then I look like a dickhead-!”
“Not if you ask!” Wilbur insisted, interrupting the teen. “Record your feet as you walk and go up to people and ask them random questions.” he continued, you watched the look on Tommy’s face turn mischievous as he turned the camera to Fundy and you.
“Hey! Fundy! What do you think of women?” Tommy asked, the phone all too close to Fundy. He stumbled for a slight second before pulling up the 69 table marker, barely holding a straight face as he tried to not laugh. “Oh- Oh my god! That is so incredibly offensive. Is that- Is that all women are to you Fundy?” Tommy asked while he cackled, causing everyone else to laugh with him. “Sexist Fundy!! Sexist Fundy and his sexist by association partner!” He joked.
That made you lose your mind, something about being sexist by association was the funniest goddamn thing you’d heard all day. You leaned onto Fundy as you struggled to breathe, instinctively you repeated the joke under your breath as you laughed which somehow sent the group into another laughing fit as Tommy tired to move on with the bit.
Eventually you all dropped the bit and happily spent the next two hours just wandering around the boardwalk and talking about whatever came to mind. Around the hour mark NIki had to leave, giving you all light hugs before she left on her own. The other hour was basically Tommy’s podcast, not that you were complaining, it was nice to listen too as the topics naturally jumped between each other and you did make sure to add your input when you felt like it was needed. It wasn’t until Tommy had gone on a long ramble about the youtube algorithm that you actually started to tune out. You swung your hand that held Fundy’s with a little bit of force, a smile in your eyes as you looked out at the ocean. “Really pretty, huh?” Fundy asked, knocking you out of your thoughts.
“Oh yeah, I’m so used to fields I never thought oceans would look this pretty...” You say quietly before you turn to Fundy and squeeze his hand in yours, “But I’d say you're still the prettiest thing I’ve seen by a long shot!” You whisper to him, your voice soft with adoration as you watch his face go red under his mask.
He quickly looked away from you, ducking his head a little, “Then you should really start investing in mirrors if you think I’m the prettiest thing.” he replied just as quietly, his voice a little unsteady. It was cute to watch him flirt, how he tended to tiptoe the line of stuttering, rarely looking you in the eyes when he said it.
Your face heats up as you tilt your head, “Oh, really?” You ask, “I feel like I nee-” you go to continue before Tommy screams, making you jump and everyone to stop in their tracks. Your head snaps in his direction as his phone starts to ring, which true to his brand his ringtone was able sisters.
The rest of you stayed mostly quiet, absentmindedly you teetered from leg to leg while you tried your best to not eavesdrop on Tommy's conversation. Which was a much harder task than you’d expect, whether Tommy had his call volume all the way up or his dad is where he gets his loud persona from and you could hear his dad say he’d be at Wilbur’s to pick him up in a little under an hour. Tommy said okay and quickly hung up, probably to avoid his dad saying anything that embarrassed him which made you chuckle. He swiped at his phone a few times before holding his phone up near his face, “Okay, we gotta finish this vlog up! Wilbur, it was nice hanging out with you and-” He turned the camera to Fundy, laughing at his annoyed look, “-and sad Fundy.” He turned to the sky in front of you guys.
Quickly, Tommy and Wilbur devolved into banter as they ended the vlog and Fundy drags you to a bench on the side of the boardwalk. “Tommy was right though,” he says quietly and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to rest on his shoulder. “the boardwalk is pretty romantic.”
You giggle as you lean into him more, “And you’re pretty cheesy.”
“Oh, so you get to call me the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, but I don’t get to say that walking on a boardwalk with the love of my life is romantic?” Fundy grumbles but there’s no bite to it.
“Well yeah! That- Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait.” You interrupted yourself, finally processing the words he just said, you bring your hands up to his face and cup it lightly, “Fundy- Fundy did you just call me the,” you swallow thickly, it’s not a problem if did, it’s just. You weren’t expecting him to care as much as you did already, multiple past relationships had taught you that you fall too hard and too fast for others to keep up, even if they wanted to. “The love of your life?” your voice drops to a whisper, like you hadn’t been dating for five months already and he could reject you right here, right now.
Fundy couldn’t help the light chuckle that left him and he brought his free hand to rest on one you had on his face, “Of course,” his eyes soften as he watches shock and blush spread across your face, “I had fallen in love with you the first time I heard your voice and I only fall more everyday.” He rubbed his thumb on your hand, you thought you’d pass out with how your heart soared at the lovestruck look he gave you, “Hell, y/n I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love with you more every second of this trip.” he moved to kiss the top of your head before remembering the masks and just resting his face in your hair.
Any and all words had completely dropped out of your head, “I… I don’t know how to respond to that…'' You mumbled, moving your hands from his face to wrap your arms around his waist as you bury your face into his body.
He hummed quietly, rubbing your shoulder, “And that’s fine, I already know you love me, don’t worry.” he yawned at the end of his sentence, snuggling into you more as he closed his eyes.
“How are you still tired?” You ask in a mumbe, surprised.
Shrugging, Fundy holds in another yawn, “Maybe you should just stop feeling as comfortable as home does, then maybe I won't be so tired.” He replies, while his words held weight his voice was soft.
Lazily, your gaze fell to the horizon, then to an arguing Wilbur and Tommy, you couldn’t hear them but you could assume they were arguing over something trivial. “Never,” you reply quietly, “if feeling like home to you means I get to hold you in my arms, then I never want to change that. I can deal with a clingy sleepy Funs for the rest of my life, frankly I think it’s cute.” you can feel him tense from embarrassment under you.
He quickly relaxes and grumbles and hides his face in your hair more, “I’m going to never be tired again out of spite now.” he said, mumbled by your hair.
You can help but laugh, your entire body bouncing with it as you replied, “Yeah, sure love. Whatever you say.” As hard as he tried he can’t keep a straight face and he quickly falls into giggling with you. After a bit you both calm down, simply enjoying each other's company while you don’t have any of your friends to, albeit lovingly, bully you. Neither of you are really sure how long you sat there, but before you knew it Wilbur was shaking your shoulder.
“Get up lovebirds or the offer to my guest bedroom is void.” He said in a dead tone, if you couldn’t see him you possibly would have believed him but his eyes said the opposite.
Sighing, you wiggled your way out of Fundy’s arms and tugged him up with you, intertwining your fingers. “Oh nooo! Whatever should we do! Fundy, my love, he’s going to make us sleep outside on this cold Brighton night!” You dramatically lean on him, bringing your hand to your forehead, suppressing a smile as you watched him try not to laugh.
Wilbur smirked as he puffed out his chest and touched it with just his finger tips, “It is all going to plan! Thy shall perish by sunrise!” his voice sounded like a rich british person making it impossible for any of you to keep a straight face, Fundy was the first to double over in laughter, you and Wilbur followed close behind.
Slowly the wheezing calmed down and you all came back to your senses, wide smiles plastered onto your faces, “Wait, did Tommy leave?” You ask, frowning some.
Stretching his arms above his head, Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, his dad picked him up while you and Fundy were having your moment on the bench. He didn’t wanna interrupt you guys.” he shrugs.
You can’t help but grumble, “Damn, I at least wanted to say goodbye to him!”
Reaching over, Wilbur lightly pats your shoulder, “Ey, don’t take it personally. You know he’s a busy guy, plus you know he cares for you.”
Nodding, you lean into Fundy again as you all silently come to the decision to start walking home. It was nice to listen to Fundy and Wilbur ramble on about things together, going from DreamSMP lore, to Wilbur's new album, to Fundy's new plugins, before looping back to music as Wilbur opened his front door. You didn’t really pay attention to what they were saying, just enjoying the noise of their voices.
As you all step in you pull off your shoes and masks, moving into the living room, “You can play my keyboard if you want Fundy.” You hear Wilbur say, visibly perking up at the idea, which Wilbur noticed, snickering as moved further into his house, “Seems like y/n very interested in the idea of you serenading them with your piano skills.”
Now they’re both laughing and you’re pretty sure this is where you sign your will and accept your fate. Quietly grumbling, you bury your face in your free hand, “Both of you shut your ups, I swear to god, I’ll go sleep in the airport.” you threaten, even though you’re all aware that’s an empty threat.
Fundy just laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap an arm around you “All you had to do is ask, you know.” you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke which only made you blush more. Stupid cute boyfriend and his cute laugh and smiles and kind touches and- You pull your other hand up to your face and drag them down before pull them back up and through your hair.
You looked at Fundy with a loving but exhausted face, “You’re going to be the end of me, you know that right?” You say, only a little exasperated, you can still feel the heat on your face.
He smiled at you, it's warn, genuine, as he replied, “That’s okay, you’ll be the end to me too” he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Smiling, you snaked your arms around him and pulled him into a kiss as he moved so that his hands so that they rested on your hips. Before you pulled apart you both could hear Wilbur yell something from his bedroom, office? Broffice. Chuckling as you finally did pull apart, Fundy pulled you to the broffice, Wilbur sat in front of his keyboard before noticing you guys and getting up.
He dragged you over with him and sat down, patting the seat for you to sit with him and you did, leaning on him lightly as he played a few short things to get used to the keyboard. It was nice to listen to, the small mistakes made you smile as you watched his hands, “Will, you should tell me where you got this, my keyboard is all wobbly. Makes playing certain songs hell.” he said, starting to play C418 Sweden.
Sighing, you close your eyes, sinking into the music and the warmth of Fundy pressed against you. Fundy switched through songs he knew carefully playing to be sure not to jostle you too much, you’re not sure when it happened but at some point you could hear Wilbur’s guitar. Quietly you hummed along while the two played, in the back of your mind all you could think about was doing this more often. Weekly would be nice, just a bunch of your friends get together and you listen to your boyfriend and best friends play.
Before you knew it Fundy was lightly shaking you awake, “Babe, come on, come with me to our room.” He says quietly. You let out a hum, letting him pull you up and along to your shared room. You hear some shuffling and zipping of bags as you halfheartedly try to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Here, go change out of your jeans, sleeping in those isn’t exactly comfortable.” he said softly, shoving a pair of sweats and a t-shirt into your arms. You move over to the bed and set them down before stripping to change, which immediately makes Fundy squeak, “WOAH- Woah- I- Hold on!” Fundy stuttered out as he turned around.
You can’t help but giggle as you pull off your shirt, “Why are you so embarrassed? You’re my boyfriend, you know?” you tease him as you slide on the shirt he gave you, the first thing you notice is how big it is, had to be one of his shirts.
You watch him bring his hands to his face, you could see how red his ears were from here, “Well, I mean, yeah but I’m being polite.” He mumbled, ducking his head as he moved his hands to the back of his head.
Pulling off the jeans quickly before slipping on the sweats, you walk over to Fundy and loop your arms around his waist, resting your face on his back. “Okay, Mr. I’m Very Polite and Nice, I’m all changed. It’s time for bed.” You say, tugging him slightly towards the bed. He nodded and pulled himself out of your grasp, headed to the bed as he dragged you along. He flopped down and you soon followed, quickly he shuffled the blanket over you both and pulled you into his chest.
The two of you sat there quietly, relishing in each other's touch as you listened to the other’s heartbeat. It was almost overwhelming how much Fundy felt like home, how his touches brought a sense of calm you didn’t you could get to. It was weird, new, exciting even, in its own way.
Then the fact you were leaving tomorrow hit you like a ton of bricks. Your brain starts to spiral, unconsciously your grip tightens on the front of Fundy’s shirt. You feel like you can’t breathe. Your eyes blur as you feel Fundy grab your hand, steadying it- wait when did you start shaking? He rubbed soft circles on it, his other hand felt grounding on your back as you curled into him just ever so slightly more. Two days wasn't enough. One night wasn't enough. You don't know how you're going to breathe now that you've learned what it feels like to actually have him by your side. "It's not fair." you quietly grumble, the words barely comprehensible.
His grip on your shirt tightens as he places a kiss on the top of your head, "I know, I know babe..." his voice was soft as he spoke, "Let's just enjoy it while we have it."
All you can do is nod, your brain too busy trying to memorize what it felt like to have your head tucked under his chin and your arms around his waist. After a couple of cozy silent minutes Fundy started to hum a tune, you couldn't recognize it but you know he's sung it to you before. You could feel the hums in his chest, the scene felt surreal, like every other part of this day. You didn’t bother stopping the tears that pricked your eyes.
You fell asleep like that, him humming quietly and rubbing calming circles on your back. Trying your best you committed every touch to memory as you slowly faded into sleep, just barely catching Fundy whispering "I love you, y/n." as you feel into one of the most comfortable rests of your life.
When you woke up your arms and legs were entangled with Fundy’s gangly ones, his face softly tucked into the crook of your neck. You didn’t want to move and unless someone had a real good reason you weren’t going to. You’re pretty sure this is what heaven feels like, holding the love of your life close as the sun poked through the half drawn curtains making the whole situation feel all the more unreal. That moment was cut short as Fundy started to wake up, instinctively pulling away from you as he did so. You whine quietly and weakly try to pull him back, after a few seconds he listens and reburies his face in your neck.
The two of you laid there like that for a while, probably around an hour, before you begrudgingly tell him you both should get up. Fundy let out a loud groan as you slipped out of his grasp, you sat up and stretched your arms over your head, looking over at him who now laid with his arms stretched out from his body.
Wait. When did he take his shirt off? Of course you've seen him shirtless before but something about seeing it in person is fundamentally different. It felt so much more, intimate, than before. You hadn't even realized you were staring till Fundy spoke up, a laugh in his words "If your gonna stare might as well touch." his voice was low, still laced with sleep.
"Wh- I- Uh. Well. I mean-" you stutter out, looking away making him laugh more. After a few seconds you look back at him, he didn't move at all, which didn't surprise you. Silently you turn towards him, you glance up at him holding his sleepy gaze as your hand hovered over his waist. He gave you a small encouraging nod and you lightly touched him, his muscles involuntarily tense at your touch, shit your hands were cold weren’t they? You internally cringe at yourself but just as quickly as he tensed, he relaxed, letting out a quiet hum as your hand started to warm.
You felt so dumb, looking at Fundy like you were a child seeing fireworks for the first time holding the same hesitation, even as if you could burn yourself or worse, you could hurt him. Of course, you knew you wouldn’t hurt him but unfamiliarity and anxiety boiled in your stomach no matter how many times you tried to tell yourself it was okay. Looking up at Fundy you can see his face soften, a smile on his lips as he leaves you to your own devices, not wanting to interrupt whatever process you were creating.
Silently grumbling at the lack of direction and you go to place your other hand on him, only to realize just how weirdly you were positioned. You pulled away from him, earning yourself an eyebrow raise from your boyfriend which you just wave your hand at. Carefully you straddle his hips, earning a soft grunt from him but he doesn't stop you, somehow you manage to just completely blank just how close you are as you continue to run your hands over his chest.
Despite how inherently not innocent the scene looked out of context, in context it was the exact opposite. Your movements were filled with both boundless curiosity as you tried to commit the feeling of his soft, pale skin under your hands and endless hesitation as you tried not to do something wrong. "You know, you are really, really handsome..." you say quietly, it's still hard to believe you're actually able to touch him if you're honest.
Softly you cup his face, leaning down and placing soft kisses all over it, making him quietly giggle. Pecking softly at his lips before you moved on to his jaw, then his neck. It was odd, to get to this point of intimacy without there being some sort of sexual motive threw you off, but it was a much welcomed change of pace. Something about leaving light kisses on the neck and collarbone felt different when it was just reassurances of love.
As you sit up away from him he hums quietly, finally awake enough to really process what's happening. After another minute or so he sat up quickly, knocking you off balance and sending you back towards his legs. Before you hit his legs he grabbed your waist, pulling you close, the situation happened so fast that by the time you realized he was fully awake you were already in his arms, both of you giggling messes. Fundy rested his nose in the crook of your neck, you could feel the smile he wore pressed against your skin.
It was a calm and serene scene, one you hope to have again and again and again when you guys can be together more. While you were lost in thought he smirked as he blew a raspberry on your neck, making you let out a loud laugh, "WH- Wait- Hold on! I! Fu-Fundy, what the f-uck??" you struggled to ask through your laughter as he continued to assault your neck with raspberries, moving in between each one.
You pushed against him, trying and failing to get away from his attack. After multiple failed sentences, giggles, and barks of laughter he finally let you go, his face plastered in a smug but still genuinely happy grin. You wanted to ask him what that was all about but air was not being your friend so you just rested your head in his shoulder, struggling to catch your breath.
"I'm sorry, but after I let you pamper me while I was half asleep I thought I'd just keep the train rolling." he said as if he read your mind, his hands resting comfortably on your hips as he placed a kiss on your cheek. "I couldn't resist your laughter, I love it too much!" he said happily.
You let out a quiet defeated sigh, moving so now your cheek rested on his shoulder, your nose nestled in the crook of his neck. "Did Wilbur have plans for us today?" you ask quietly, part of you wished he did but another part of you is completely okay with laying in bed with Fundy till you needed to go to the airport.
Fundy thought for a moment, fingers tapping lightly on your hips, "No idea, honestly." he finally said, shrugging ever so slightly. "I should probably text him." he pulled one of his hands off of you and leaned to grab his phone off the bedside table. He moved his hand to your lower back and he leaned over you to see his phone. Melting into his touch you let out a quiet hum as you placed a hand over his heart, feeling his heartbeat through your fingertips as he typed away on his phone. You two sat like that for a few minutes before he spoke up, “Wilbur said he was gonna go get drinks with Niki, Phil, and Tristin later today, around four pm. We’re free to join but he also understands if you don’t wanna drink before your flight.”
Silently you thought, tapping your fingers lightly on his chest. On one hand it would be nice to chill out with Phil, especially since neither you or Fundy had met with him in person yet. On the other you know you, and if you were hanging around a bunch of people who were drinking you’re going to end up drinking as well. “As much as I hate to say it, I really don’t wanna drink before my flight.” You say sighing, Fundy just nods as he shoots a message back to Wilbur.
“Well since we’re gonna lay in bed all day…” Fundy started as he turned his body and flopped you both down onto your sides, both of you giggling messes. Carefully you moved your hands from his chest to his face, cupping his cheeks softly. “... You know you’re really, really pretty?” he whispered, grabbing one of your hands and placing a soft kiss on your palm.
You sputter and duck your head, trying to hide the blush on your face. “You may have told me one or two times…” You say quietly, mostly as a joke.
His head perks up, “Only once or twice?” He asked, you chuckle and continue the bit nodding. He gasped as he softly makes you look at him, he holds your face as he gives you a serious look, “You’re pretty, you are so goddamn pretty, y/n. I every fucking day think about how you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Any time my mind wonders it finds its way to you because- because, you just- y/n you feel like home. Whenever I’m with you, whether that’s in person or in some form of call, I feel like I should pinch myself and remind myself that I’m actually awake.” He stops for a second, taking a few breaths as your face gets redder making him chuckle slightly. “God- I am so in love with you. I- To quote you from last night: You’re going to be the end of me, you know that right?” he finishes his spiel.
You’re on cloud nine. Point blank. “Damn it, how the hell do you always know what to say?” you mumble before you snaked your arms around his neck and connect your lips. It wasn’t heated but it was passionate, full of emotions that didn’t have proper words but still needed to be communicated. Pulling apart you both were panting, only a few microseconds before you started laughing, “We are so cheesy, oh my god.” you say quietly through laughter, he joined you with a large smile on his face.
“Maybe we are cheesy, but we’re cheesy together so who cares.” he replied, placing a soft kiss on your nose.
You laughed harder, fingers messing with his hair by the nape of his neck, “You’re proving my point you fuckin’ nerd!” You basically cackled out, when you looked up the in love look in his eyes almost knocked the breath out of you. You tucked yourself under his chin, hiding your face as a hand still carded through his hair.
You two sat in bed for a few hours, scrolling through different platforms and showing each other funny or cute things. It was nice, cozy even as you fell into a simple routine, every once and a while you’d switch positions and continue with your scrolling. All too soon five pm rolled around and Fundy reluctantly brought it to your attention, “Hey love, your flight’s at eight right?” he asked quietly, you two were spooning, you as the little spoon as his chin was tucked over your shoulder.
Groaning, you nodded, “Yeah it is.” you say quietly, sinking into his touch more.
It was quiet for a few seconds before he continued, “We need to get up..” he slowly pulled away from you, making you whine but inevitably listen. Groggily, you make your way to your bag, pulling out a simple t-shirt and jeans. You stripped and Fundy did the same thing as last night, making you chuckle but you don’t say anything this time.
Once changed you walk over to him and lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek, “How mad do you think Wilbur would be if I made us some breakfast? Well, ‘breakfast’.” You asked, making air quotes around the second breakfast.
He hummed, thinking for a second before shrugging, “Probably not at all, but if he does it was my idea.” he said as he turned around and placed a kiss on your forehead, “I’m gonna shower real fast so just come knock on the door when it’s done.”
You nodded and peeled yourself off of him, making your way to the kitchen. You make some simple eggs and toast, not wanting to use too much food from your friends kitchen and when you finished fifteen minutes later Fundy was walking into the kitchen, “Aw man, you put a shirt on.” you say in faux disappointment.
He sputtered for a second before shaking his head, “We are literally about to leave and go out in public.” he said, grabbing one of the plates from the counter as he looked through the drawers for a fork.
Rolling your eyes, you lightly bump his hip with yours when he finally finds the forks, dropping the subject in favor of some comfortable silence while you both ate. Or at least partially comfortable, the fact of the plane ride still hung in the air, uncommented on but there. Fundy finished before you, placing his plate in the sink and giving you a kiss on the top of your head before heading into the guest bedroom. A few minutes later you finished your own food and you washed the dishes that you guys used, eyes falling to the stove clock: 6:30 pm. Sighing, you placed the dishes into the strainer and made your way to the guest room, “Fuuuns,” you whine more than really say, “we probably should go soon, since I wanna still say bye to Wilbur.”
He jumps at the sound of your voice, zipping up the bag in his hands on instinct, “Oh- Hey y/n!” he said quickly.
You walk over and lean on him as you look at your bag in his hands, “Whatcha up to, big man?” you asked, grabbing the bag from him.
“Oh I just, I wanted to give you something but I thought it’d be better for you to find it when you got home…” he said as you opened your bag up, smiling as you see one of his hoodies folded on the top, “I was just gonna give you one of my hoodies but it didn’t feel special enough, sooo…” he dragged out his words as you pulled out his iconic hoodie, “I gave you the hoodie.” he finished with a large smile.
Your face goes bright red as you pull it on, it smelled like him, like home, you’re too lost in the gesture to notice when Fundy pulled you close and kissed the top of your head. “You’re… You’re.” You didn’t know what words you were trying to find, you knew he loved this hoodie, he wore it all the time even, it felt weird, both very wrong and very right for you to take it, “Are you sure?” you asked quietly.
“Of course,” He hummed, “what better thing to remind you that I love you and that I’m here for you than my favorite hoodie?” you just stuttered in response and nodded, “Plus you look very cute in my clothes.” he said as he leaned away from you before he pulled you into a kiss, it took you a few seconds to kiss him back, the cogs in your brain fighting between stopping entirely and going twice the speed.
When he pulled away from you, you were breathless, “Man. I’m going to die without your kisses, what the hell…” You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest.
“Nooo, don’t die,” he replied dramatically, “if you die then how am I gonna kiss you when you come back?” he jokingly held you tightly, but a small part of you knew it wasn’t a joke, that he fully processed just how much he’s going to miss holding you.
You let out a sigh muffled by his chest, “Well, guess I’ll just live forever.” you said quietly, which made him chuckle slightly. You know it’s a joke but if you could find a way, you would. Just for Fundy. After a few seconds you reluctantly pulled yourself out of his grasp, zipping up the large hoodie before putting the backpack on.
Fundy let out a sigh as he patted his pockets, “Wilbur’s letting me drive you to the airport using his car.” He said as he pulled out Wilbur’s keys, showing them to you.
You nodded before you cupped his face and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you so, so, so goddamn much, Fundy.” you whispered, placing your forehead on his.
“I love you too, y/n. And the distance between us doesn’t change that in the slightest.” he whispered back, his voice slightly shook as he spoke which made your heart hurt. Slowly he pulled away from you, grabbing your hand with his as he dragged you to the door, you both slipped on your shoes and masks before heading out to the car.
The car ride to the pub Wilbur was at with Phil and Kristin was quiet, not a bad quiet but quiet nonetheless. The radio played soft classical music as Fundy carefully drove the car through the town, you can’t tell if you’re surprised by that being Wilbur’s default station or not. Once you guys got there you quickly got out of the car, telling Fundy you’ll be back soon as you ran in and told Wilbur goodbye. It wasn’t all that much, you gave him a hug and promised to text him once your plane landed to let him know you were safe. You quickly said hi to Phil and Kristin, apologizing that you couldn’t stay longer, which they brushed off, saying that there’ll always be another time.
By the time you and Fundy were finally on your way to the airport it was a quarter past seven, the drive there was viscerally different than the drive to say bye to Wilbur. He drove with one hand, his free one resting carefully in your’s as he rubbed the back of it with his thumb. The silence was almost oppressive as you sat there but neither of you knew what to say, so you both stayed quiet. The silence stretched on into the airport, it was odd but somehow fitting. It was the first time neither of you could really bring yourself to break the silence.
Fundy eventually did, though. After you had made it through security, you two sat down on the benches waiting for them to call your flight number. It started with a laugh, a sad one, followed by a quiet apology, “I’m sorry I haven’t said anything y/n…” He basically said to himself, you’re pretty sure if you had even an ounce less of self control you’d start crying right then.
Carefully, you cupped his face, a sad smile in your eyes, “Don’t worry love. Trust me, I understand.” you replied as you rubbed your thumbs over his cheek bones. He silently nodded, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you close. You moved your hands from his face and wrapped your arms around his neck, “It’ll be fine, just like Phil said to me in the pub today, ‘there’ll always be another time.’ I’ll visit again when this is all over, next time for longer.” You promise him, voice hushed so that only you two can hear it.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course, next time.” he said, it was so soft, as if he said it too loud something would curse against it. The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, enjoying the last time you’d hold each other for at least a long while. All too soon they called for your plane and reluctantly you pulled away from him. Quickly he pulled down his mask, looking at you for a long second before you do the same, softly he connected your lips, it was a slow and desperate kiss. One that knew you had to leave but so strongly wish you didn’t that you could have mistaken it for tangible.
When you pull apart, you smile at him, pressing a light kiss on his cheek before standing up, “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” you ask, fixing your mask.
He nodded, probably much more aggressively than he meant to, “Yeah, definitely.”
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sorcererinthestars · 3 years
Text
You’ve Got a Fast Car...
I’m back, bitches~~ But seriously, felt great to write again for the @rtwritingcommunity​‘s secret sunshine event! I will tag my recipient if/when I get their a-ok!
Summary: (FAHC) Michael doesn't expect a man to throw himself in front of his car and beg him to stop. This is Los Santos. Picking up hitchhikers is generally frowned upon. But this man has a pretty face and hell - he's got a fast car. What's he got to lose?
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32969470
-
Michael knew something was seriously wrong when a man throws himself out in front of his car.
Now, his car was nothing nice, but he still doesn't want to spend the next few hours getting some fucking asshole's blood off of his front bumper. So naturally he slams on the brakes as the man - a skinny, dirty thing with wild hair - does a legitimate fucking slide across the hood of his shit Honda Civic and nearly collapses on the other side. "Oi!"
"Get out of the damn road, idiot!" Michael yells out the window in a reply, flicking him off to boot. It was late, almost 2am at this point, and he really had anything better to do than scream at some (probably high) dickbag who decided to do calisthenics in the goddamn street. But the man doesn't run away ashamed, as Michael had expected. Instead, he frantically pokes at his phone - still in the middle of the street - and Michael sits there, a bit flabbergasted.
He doesn't move.
He still doesn't move when Michael lays his entire weight on the horn, sending a blast of sound into the Los Santos night. It's not as loud or annoying as he may have wanted - LS is always loud as fuck on a Saturday evening - but it does have the intended effect of nearly making the idiot in front of his car in the middle of the street jump half out of his skin.
"SHHH!" the man gasps, comically putting his finger over his lip like he was in a cartoon and making an over-exaggerated shushing motion. Michael has to blink. He's shushing him? While standing in front of his car? Before he can say anything or shake off the disbelief that this shit had to happen to him tonight - he had to get home and clean off before his next shift at the pizza place he had reluctantly taken a job at - the man (still crazy-eyed and wild-haired) runs up to his window. At this moment, Michael really wishes he had invested in a knife, or a Tazer, or something. People had warned him about LS, but he didn't listen. He should probably learn to do that, someday.
"Listen, man," the guy says (see?) and leans forward, a massive grin on his face. He has some pretty high cheekbones. Michael blinks. "Dude, can you please just move or I'm gonna run you the fuck down."
"No, no, no, listen," the man says again, waving his hands about. "Do me a favor, will ya? If you drive me to this address -" he holds his phone up and shows an address on the outskirts of the city - "I'll give you $1,000. Right here, right now, no questions." Michael blinks and then snorts. Yeah fucking right. "I'm not an Uber."
The man shifts on both his feet, looking agitated, and glances over his shoulder. There sounds like there's some sort of commotion coming down the street and he really has to move. So Michael leans on the horn again, blasting another honk into the LS skyline.
This has the unintended effect of making the man lean further over the hood of his car, as if he could hide. Remember. This was in the middle of the goddamn street.
"Dude!"
"I'm not kidding!" the wild-eyed man says frantically. "$1500. Deposited directly into your account. I'm serious, kill me and my crew if I lie."
That was no turn of phrase Michael had ever heard, but the money does make him pause. He's... short on funds right now. Well, he's always short on funds, but this time moreso than usual. $1,500 extra would be a huge boost to the amount he currently has in the bank. He'd pay rent. He wouldn't have to borrow any more from anyone else and avoid that loan shark fucker he found online.
Before he could really think about what he was saying, he finds himself tapping the passenger seat. "Fine. Get in. I swear to god, I better see that money."
And if he dies... well. Then he still wouldn't have to worry about rent, so win-win in his mind.
With a triumphant holler, the man leaps into the car and yanks up a GPS on his phone, pointing them to drive down the street. "Thanks man! I'm Gavin." -
They're not going more than five minutes when sirens start blaring behind them. The man tenses and looks backwards out the window with a frown. "Oh shit."
Michael immediately - immediately - realizes just how much he fucked up. "What do you mean, oh shit?"
"I - uh..." The unhinged man - Gavin - stutters. "Did... Did I mention that uh... the LSPD may want to arrest me?"
"May want to what?!" Michael's voice climbs so many octaves in that last word that it makes Gavin slump down in his seat, suitably chagrined. "I ... seriously, man, I - I needed a car, a way out, I promise I'll give you the money, just please for the love of god, drive the damn car."
"Pull Over," the cop car unhelpfully calls from behind them, making Michael's bowels turn to water. Gavin's even more frantically slamming keys on his phone as they approach a major intersection. Michael keeps looking behind him, unable to slow down as the cops continue to chase them. "Gavin, seriously..."
"You're with me now, man," he replies a bit frantically. "You're in it. So either we avoid them, or you're going to jail too. Sorry."
The words fall like bricks on Michael's shoulders as he realizes that what Gavin just said was true. No cop in their right mind would believe that he - a man with a few blotches on his permanent record already - would have just accepted to pick up a hitchhiker and drive him across town at 2am for $1,500 without assuming he was a criminal. No. Any sane cop would assume he was in on it.
Because the alternative was that he was a fucking lunatic, but here we are.
Gritting his teeth, a conscious shift happens somewhere in his gut. He's a survivor. He'd get the fuck out of this, one way or the other. So, without Gavin's input and in a split second decision, he takes a sharp left and rips around the corner, sending Gavin flying against the door with a shout of surprise. "HEY!"
"Gotta avoid the cops, don't we?" Michael says with a maniacal burst of laughter, the insanity that can only be best described as hysteria. "You're the navigator, idiot, get us to where we need to be!"
The nervousness - which had appeared on Gavin's face after Michael had blown up at him - evaporated as Gavin bursts into a big smile. "Hell yeah," he hums. "Let's do this."
-
After fifteen minutes, Michael had lost all his nerves. Instead, he felt like an overinflated balloon, filled with a giddy sort of lunacy that he had never felt before as they flew down abandoned Los Santos streets. He shrieked with laughter as they slipped down the runway illuminated by neon lights and flashing red and blues, which whipped around them like a rave of their own design.
The freedom was intoxicating. Michael had taken drugs before back in New Jersey, who hadn't(?), but this was a whole different sort of high. And as soon as Gavin realized that Michael was in it with him, he had turned into an erratic demon of death, urging Michael onward with the same fire that was reflected in Michael's soul.
They flew down the streets like hedonists, shrieking with laughter and happiness as Gavin shoves his head out the sunroof to flick off the cops and shout insults.
When the first gunshot cracks through the night, Michael is sobered only for a moment. In for a penny, in for a pound. He's already here, dodging the cops, so this shit may as well happen. It's like he's in a godforsaken video game but he's not. This is real life, this is his life, and maybe he's ruining it. Maybe. But what had he not ruined in his life already? For a few moments, he could feel like he was disconnected from reality, driving so fast he could swear he could fly, a - undeniably pretty - man urging him to new, foolish lengths from the seat next to them.
And so they flew. As they approached intersections and traffic lights, Michael could see - more like sense - Gavin's own particular talents. He admits he has no abilities behind the wheel, hence begging Michael to help him, but he's able to make every traffic light change from here to the safehouse, giggling like a school kid all the while, knowing he was being naughty but that just sends them into a more frenzied set of hysterics.
It tastes like the best drug, the most collective high, the freedom that comes from knowing you're one step away from death or worse but that dangle is intoxicating. Maybe ten minutes ago he hated what was happening, but all that was gone now.
It's just the car, him, and Gavin's frantic - musical - laugh.
-
Eventually - with Gavin's GPS and eventually warm hand over his - they lose the cops. Michael has no sense of time, no concept of how long they were on the roads causing havoc, fleeing and laughing and shrieking like demons.
All he knows is that he's out in the North now and the beginning shards of sun were peeking over the horizon. He's able to slow to a manageable speed and catch his breath.
Gavin's phone rings and the man answers it. Michael can't hear what he's saying past the ringing in his ears, the result of wind whipping past his face and hours of excitement. His face is red when he meets Gavin's eyes. He closes the phone and the excitement shines bright in his eyes.
For a moment, Michael's breath is taken away. Then Gavin just points. "Top of Chilliad. Get me there." His voice is hoarse from yelling, deeper than it was, and it stirs something that Michael can't explain.
"Yes, sir," he hums teasingly. In for a penny, in for a pound, like he had said before. They start the climb up the dirt road. Once or twice, Michael doesn't think his car can make it, but the tenacious Civic crawls forward as if it knows what it had done too and felt on top of the world.
They make it to the top as the sun finally breaks over the horizon completely, blanketing the world in orange and red. When Michael finally - finally- throws the car in park and looks over at him, Gavin's grinning the biggest grin Michael has ever seen.
Before he can do anything, fuelled by adrenaline and fire and the same pure joy on Gavin's face, Michael leans over and kisses him deeply, half dragging him over the stick shift.
They kiss feverishly for a few moments, the adrenaline fading, before breaking apart and chuckling sheepishly. "I - sorry, I ..."
Gavin just winks. It's knowing. "No problem, luv," he purrs. "Does it to you, doesn't it? The chase? Makes the fire in your blood run hot." He leans forward conspiratorially. "Men weren't made to walk on their knees," he hums. "Think about it." He digs in his pocket and drops a card on the passenger seat before climbing out of the door, even as Michael tries to grab his arm and yank him back. "Gav--"
"Later, beautiful," Gavin grins, seemingly more suave and sophisticated than the man he was when he first climbed into the car. Like he was grifting and Michael was his poor, unsuspecting mark. "I'll call you. You're a great driver. Check your account." He salutes and it's then when Michael can hear the thud-thud of roters. A helicopter?
Before he can say anything, climbing frantically out of the car to watch, Gavin grabs a rope ladder hanging off the bottom of a fucking cargobob and is lifted into the air, disappearing quickly out of sight like something out of a fairy tale.
And Michael is left in the remains of the sun-drenched LS morning, with a car almost empty of gas and mysteriously $1,500 richer.
Whatever had happened to him that night in Los Santos, he knows his life will never, ever be the same.
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ringmyheart · 4 years
Note
Heyy, hope I'm not being annoying with so many asks, but could I please get ice feet of death characters of your choice? Thank you so much 😘😍😘🤩😘😍😘
Eli Jang
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Eli Jang wasn’t going to push people important to him away anymore - or ever again.
In his past, he’d seen what that had done for him, and it ended disastrous. He wouldn’t keep people at an arms length away anymore, especially people precious to him, and especially not you.
Such an earnest and well meant swear to himself was extremely hard to keep up with, however, when you were besides him and your feet happened to brush against his calf. Feet as cold as fucking ice.
His hand was planted in the middle of your chest, keeping you ironically enough an arms length away from him. When you’d crawled into bed that night, before you could even go under the covers, his hand had shot out and kept you suspended exactly where you were - and you swore you saw a flash of fear in his eyes.
“...”
“...”
You both looked at each other, you perplexed and him worried - of what, you couldn’t say. Cocking a brow, you asked, “is something wrong? Eli?”
He swallowed down a lump in his throat, before removing his hand and returning it to his side. Internally, he hoped you wouldn’t come too much closer. Or at the least, that you’d sleep with your legs bent so he wouldn’t be subjected to the cold with you. He wondered if you were even aware of this…
“No, nothing’s wrong!” He forced a laughed, though no joy reached his eyes; rather, a pained emotion swirled in them.
‘I can’t take another night like this!’
And when you shrugged off his odd behavior and continued settling under the covers, he acted quick. Maybe he could somehow cure this.
“H-hey, it’s winter, and it’s cold.” He lifted himself up with his elbows from the bed and grabbed you by the shoulders spontaneously, steering you to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a bath?! Since it’s so cold!”
You let him lead you the way there and push you along, confused. “Uh-?”
Sending a skeptical look over your shoulder to Eli, he felt somewhat guilty for suddenly forcing you away. But when he recalled the icy horror he’d be introduced to if he didn’t try and fix it instead, he pushed on - for his well-being as well as yours.
He sent you a smile. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold!”
“...” Silence engulfed the two of you before you smiled back. “Aww, that’s sweet. Okay. Don’t worry, I won’t use all the hot water.”
“Please do.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He smiled stupidly, waving you bye while you walked into the bathroom. “Also, make sure your feet are in there.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
When he heard the bath water begin to run, a wave of relief washed over him. Even if the water didn’t permanently cure your case of cold-feet, it’d at least take care of it for a while, right? And then he could sleep comfortably with you tonight, right?
When you were eventually done with the bath and had put clothes back on, you began to crawl back onto bed, getting comfortable as soon as you pulled the sheets over you. He wondered if it’d worked. He could feel heat radiate off of you from his side, and when you shuffled, the side of your heel brushed against his ankle briefly before it was gone in a second.
In that second, it felt like he’d tasted death - and it was freezing.
‘That didn’t work?!’ The top row of his teeth crushed against the bottom row in a quick act of brain storming. He shot up where he sat, catching your attention from how abruptly he’d pulled himself up, and he looked at you. His eyes darted back and forth in thought, before an imaginary lightbulb seemed to light over his head.
“Man, it’s cold tonight, huh?” He said causally, with a fake shiver. You shifted your gaze upwards, thinking for a moment.
“... I’m not that cold, to be hone-“
“You know when people get a really bad cold they actually feel warm?!”
You stared up at him with wide, doe eyes, and he continued passionately. “I don’t want you to be cold! Here, I’ll get you another blanket!”
He sprinted out of the room temporarily, and you stared at him with an indecipherable expression, a few dark lines falling down the top of your face. You just wanted to sleep…
He came back with a wide smile spread across his lips, a blanket in his hands. Holding one corner in each of his hands, he gestured it to you like a car dealer trying to sell a client a car they didn’t really want. “Here!”
He lifted the overs you already had on you, the one the both of you shared, and began to lay the other blanket over you. You remained still, but your features hardened.
“Uhh… why not just put the blanket over the top of the blanket I already have…?”
“Hm?”
His face blanched. If you squinted hard enough, you could almost see a question make appear on the side of his head, and he still smiled - like he was suddenly frozen in that position, and his ability to express other emotions came to a halt. This masked whatever was going on inside his head, and you looked at him with scrutinizing eyes.
“Because I wanted to tuck you in!” His smile widened, and you sighed when he suddenly began tucking the corners of the blanket underneath you. He spent half of the time he spent doing this around your feet, you noticed.
When he was done, he brushed his hands together, like he was admiring his own handiwork. If your feet were covered by a blanket, you could sleep together and he wouldn’t feel the glaciers at the ends of your legs, right?
The plan felt foolproof this time, and the bed dipped underneath his weight until he laid down and got into a position he could remain in. You examined him before shrugging this weird interaction off - again.
“Okay, well… I’m gonna go to sleep.”
He nodded. “Okay, babe. Good night.”
“...” Waiting to see if he was gonna interrupt your trip to dreamland again with some weird request or offer, you curled into his side after an appropriate amount of time passed. Enough time for you to decide he probably was done with his odd behavior.
You miscalculated.
And so did he.
His teeth gritted together, and it felt like he’d come to a horrible realization, a clap of thunder and lightning striking behind him at his moment of mental clarity and terror. ‘Even when under another blanket, their feet are below zero degrees?!’
The already cold weather certainly wasn’t helping, and he was prepared to research webMD to see if cold feet were ever fatal enough to kill you, when another thought rang in his head.
‘Why not just tell them?’
He quickly shook it out of his head. He wouldn’t push you away. He wouldn’t hurt your feelings.
Even at his own expense.
You were shaken awake violently when Eli suddenly suggested the amazing idea of putting heat packs on your feet to keep you safe for the winter night, and you internally groaned for a world-record amount of time. When he’d put the packs on your feet, it was another failed attempt; rather than heating you up, you’d chilled them down. It was like carrying two packs of ice when he went to put them away.
He’d even turned up the AC to see if maybe that would unthaw your feet, but it was fruitless; and it felt like he saw the light when your feet touched his again, and they were like a visit to the Arctic.
Now, not only did he have freezing feet planted on him, but he was also extremely and uncomfortably hot everywhere else with the AC cranked up.
A head of sweat rolled down the side of his head while he glared at the wall, wondering where he went wrong, when he felt you tap his shoulder.
“Hey, Eli?”
“Yeah?” His brow was crinkled in thought as he searched internally for another solution, but your next few words threw him off guard.
“Are you mad at me?”
“What? Why would I be mad at you?” Shock laced the tone of his voice. You paused, skin between your eyes creasing.
“... today, you kept pushing me away from you. I was just wondering if I did something…”
The look on your face was forlorn, and it felt like a dumbbell was dropped on top of his head. In his act of trying to not push you away… it seemed he’d pushed you away worse than what would’ve happened initially. A black hole of guilt consumed his heart, and his lips formed a shaky, remorseful line.
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. You didn’t do anything. I was just… I don’t know.”
You glanced at him tiredly, before closing your eyes, chuckling with a half smile and nuzzling further into your pillow. “Oh, okay… I was worried, but I guess it’s fine then.”
“Yeah, it is.” He watched your peaceful sleeping expression, and a genuine smile graced his lips. With a soft countenance, he blinked at you a couple of times, before summoning some courage and taking a deep breath.
“Hey, (y/n)?”
“Yeah?”
“Your feet are really cold.”
Your eyes shot open. “For real?”
“Yeah. Like, really cold.”
You averted your eyes from him. “Is that a problem?”
His eyes carried the brunt of his smile for his lips, and they glimmered happily. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “No, it’s no big deal. None at all.”
The small smile on your face you got from hearing those words made Eli come to another conclusion that day.
He wouldn’t push you away - and he would never lie to you again. The temperature of your feet made him nearly faint, but he’d rather die in a blizzard than see that downcast expression on you again.
Vin Jin
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“Get your cold feet the fuck off of me.”
“And if I don’t, what will you do? Be mad?”
“I’ll kill you.”
Before the both of you had gone to sleep, Vin Jin had made it very clear to you; do not touch him with your feet. Your arm was okay - but on thin ice, considering your fingers could get pretty chilly, but not your feet. He’d pronounced every syllable in the sentence, even doing little gestures with his hands to paint you a picture. Do. Not. Touch. Him. With. Your. Feet.
He’d fallen sleep before you, and was out like a light an hour after the conversation you’d had. Feeling cold and evil, you decided to go for it anyways, and threw your leg over his. He awakened instantly, and the very first words to you were him telling you to get your cold feet the fuck off of him.
“Is that a promise or a warning?”
“It’s a threat.”
You chuckled, “You don’t have it in you. Y’know, you’d try to kill me, but you’d probably get cold feet. Do you get it? Haha!”
A vein burst in the side of his head, and he kicked your leg away with his grumpily. “I’m not kidding. I’m fast. I’m really fast.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, you won’t even see it coming.”
You grinned. “Well then, evade this, fast guy.” You kicked your leg back to his. He went rigid.
“That’s it-!” Grabbing his pillow and leaping up in one swift motion, any remnants of sleepiness in him were expelled, and he jumped onto you; smothering you with the pillow. “Choke out!
Your muffled laughter came from behind the pillow, and you lifted your leg to the part of his which wasn’t covered, and laid the flat of your foot on it. He screamed like he’d been shot.
Falling back onto his side of the bed, he clutched where your foot met his leg. “You cheap tricked bastard! That’s it, come here!”
Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, he pulled you out of bed, and you stumbled over your own feet as you followed wherever he was taking you with no qualms; smile of a winner, eyes of a sinner.
He let go of you in the living room and made a motion for you to sit, and you did - patiently, at that. The sound of running water hit your ears and it didn’t stop for a good few minutes, and then a dripping noise - like something spilling over something - reached you. Vin Jin came stumbling back into the room with a pale of water, and your chest moved as you chuckled.
“Hah, what’s that for - hey, what the hell are you doing?!” When he lifted your foot into the bucket of water, you weren’t too reluctant; warmed after was warm water, and it usually felt good. But this water wasn’t warm; it was burning.
“Ack, get my foot out of there!” You tried to retract it, but he kept a grip around your ankle.
“This is for your own good. And mine!”
“Stop talking like this is some intervention! That waters scorching hot!”
“Your feet are scorching cold!” He sneered.
“That’s not the comeback you think it is. I don’t think you can use that correctly in a sentence, dumbass!”
Eventually you pulled your foot out of the water, and it was burning red. You hissed lowly in pain, and Vin tossed the bucket of water aside, kicking your foot with his lazily to see if there was a change.
He was down immediately, and if he didn’t have sunglasses on, you would’ve seen tears build in his eyes. “What the fuck - how are they still cold?! Go to a doctor!”
You puffed your chest out defensively. “Leave me alone.”
“Whatever,” he said, scratching the back of his head angrily. “I’m going to bed.”
When you didn’t copy him in doing so, he sent you a quizzical look. “What? Don’t tell me you’re butt-hurt. I just called it as it is. You have cold as fuck feet.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sleeping right here, on the couch tonight, since I’m apparently that much of a pain to sleep with.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“All- al frown-y and shit!”
You sent him a sharp glare before turning on your side and laying down. “Im not. I’m just staying here.”
“Cmon.”
“Come on what?”
“If I leave you here, you’ll just stay and at me and won’t talk to me in the morning.” He ran his hand across the top of his head.
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“Okay, fine! You can sleep with me. Geez, you’re so high maintenance… just put socks on at least.”
You jumped up from the couch, nothing left of your soured expression. “Yay! Thanks.”
He glanced at you, before turning his head away swiftly with an annoyed blow of air out of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah.” If he’d been facing you, you might’ve caught the tint of pink he was turning. “I’m just a really good boyfriend, that’s all.”
“Yeah you are.” You flattered artificially, and he just clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in faux irritation.
That night, when your feet would drift to his, despite the violent chill running down his spine, he didn’t say a word.
The following morning, you and him awoke to a driveway full of snow. You’d went back to sleep, telling him to take care of it. And to his chagrin, he did end up having to do it, and when he came back inside he came to a realization.
His feet were as cold as yours now.
A snake-like smile curved the edges of his lips into a V-shape, malice hiding behind his eyes. Delighted with the realization, he crept back to your room. He couldn’t wait to get into the bed, and subject you to the same horror you’d don’t to him - to turn the tables. And to see you have to suck it up despite hating the frigid feeling crawling up your calf, because he’d done the same for you, and who were you to refuse?
“Hehehehehe.” A childlike laugh fell off his lips, and when he crawled back into bed, he immediately shuffled his legs to touch yours. You slowly, gradually began to tense, and he saw your shoulders uncomfortably rise. He would’ve cackled had you not been besides him.
He finally gave you a taste of your own medicine, a-
“What the hell?” You mumbled, half-asleep. You jerked your foot away from his, and his mouth opened and closed in a state of a shock. “Your feet are freezing… stay over there.”
“Wha-but I—“ His mouth opened and closed.
“Hmmm. But you what?”
Like a fish, he gaped at you, wide eyed and body language expressing his utter shock, and betrayal, both of which mutating into absolute anger. After everything he did for you?! “Wha- Wha- Wha- you fucking-!”
Goo Kim
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“You know I love you, right?” Those were the words you were shaken awake to that cold night, and you’d blinked a few times, clearing the blurriness infiltrating your vision.
Groggily, you replied. “...Yeah?” Even the tiredness befuddling your train of thought, you’d known him well on enough that useless flattery always comes before a request. One usually to your inconvenience.
“And you know I’d do anything for you, right?”
“Hm. Yes.”
“And would you do anything for me?”
“... Yeah.”
“Then can you do me this one thing?”
“What?”
His eyes, which previously had glinted with an artificial, saccharine light, lidded. “Keep your feet one million miles away from me.”
There was a soft thud made audible from the lack of any noise in the room when he hit his ankle against yours, the momentum sliding your leg back to your side. As soon as he’d said that he turned back onto the side he was previously facing, sending you the cold shoulder. You groaned at his back.
“But then I’ll be cold.”
Your feet naturally gravitated to the warm side of the bed - his, and he curled into himself, leaving you stranded.
“I only ask of you one thing.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” you scoffed, walking the line between sleep and unconsciousness. “You’ve literally killed people before.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Oh?” If he’d seen you, he’d see your brow curve curiously. “Elaborate.”
“It’s already cold out. You’ll sleep by me, and you’ll drop the temperature around me because you’re so cold, and then I’ll die, and then you’ll go to jail for homicide and then you’ll be sorry.”
“How would being a little cold kill you?”
“Hypothermia.” He answered without missing a beat.
“Huh…” you hummed at how quickly that was thought out, and consequently how poorly. “Maybe my cell mates will hold me.”
“Your heart’s as cold as your feet…”
Your mouth fell open, and you pressed your feet against him again, this time with bad intent. “They are not that cold!”
The moment the bottom side of your foot touched him, he lost out a shrill shriek, and jumped out of the covers like a startled cat.
“I can’t take this anymore!” He yelled, standing to full height and walking over to the foot of the bed. He made a gesture with his hands for you to get up too, and begrudgingly you lifted the covers off of you and got up, rolling your eyes.
“What?”
With his hands, he made a slicing motion over the bed, as if he’d cut it in half. He placed the tips of his fingers on the bed itself and slid them back and forth, like a pizza slicer.
“This,” he was referring to the left side of the imaginary cut he’d made in the bed, “is my side of the bed.” He then slammed his hands on the right side. “And thiiiiis, is yours. Do not cross my side. Capiche?” He titled his head in your face obnoxiously, hands still swinging back and forth as though he was parting the sea.
“One more time. This-“
“I got it the first time! Geez.”
He folded his arms over his chest in an ‘X’. “Do not cross my side! Got it?!”
You narrowed an eye. “So we’re just gonna sleep like this forever?”
“Maybe not in the summer.”
“But then it’ll already be hot and I’ll want my side to myself!” You threw your hands on your hips. “‘Kay, you know what? Fine. Fine! I’ll sleep on my side.” You out your hands up in mock defeat. “You’ll never know the touch of a significant other again.”
“At least I’ll be warm.” He’d nearly hissed it out bitterly, and without sharing another word, you’d huffed and stepped into your side of the bed - sticking close sky to the edge.
All night, you’d slept somewhat soundly - aside from the few times you’d feel a burning, gaping hole in the back of your head. Why he kept looking at you all night, you couldn’t tell. After a while of feeling the pair of eyes from behind on you, you came to the conclusion he was monitoring to make sure you stayed on your side, and your lips fell into a brooding flat line. The bastard…
Eventually you knocked out and didn’t wake back up again - at least, not so easily, and when your eyes finally opened again, it was daylight. Waking up with a yawn, you stretched, the lack of presence by your side not going unnoticed.
At first, you’d tilted your nose skyward frustratedly. Just leaving without saying goodbye - were you seriously that cold? You’d probably continue to anguish over the fact, when you noticed a piece of paper with a letter on the wall that usually wasn’t present, hung atop the dresser.
‘WEAR THESE SO WE CAN SLEEP TOGETHER AGAIN ->’ written in writing so bad you had to squint and analyze it for minutes to decipher it, you unknowingly nodded before following the line of the arrow, seeing it pointed to a pair of socks hung on the dresser. They looked like they were so heavy and thick, they’d drag the entirety of your leg down and indent the floor you walked on with every step, not to mention the ugly, multiple colors - but disregarding that, you smiled at the sentiment. Thanks to the note afterwards, you were able to discern the series of glances to you that night weren’t of skepticism, but regret - or maybe guilt.
Despite the seemingly angry ‘that fucking bastard’ ringing in in your inner thoughts, there was a humorous smile resting on your face.
Taehoon Seong
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“Like hell yer sharing a room with that fuckin’ bastard Hobin.”
When he slammed his hand on the register’s desk, both you and her jumped. In spite of his firm tone indicating he’d already made his mind up about this, it was purposeful on his part that his bangs swept across his eyes, and he noticeably flushed red.
You gasped, facial features contorting, aghast. “That’s cold… you can be mad at him, but you don’t have to bring him not having a father into this. We’re only sharing one to save money!”
He threw his hand down back to his sides irately, and the angry expression he held would’ve intimidated you had he not seemed so flustered. You recoiled a little regardless.
“That’s not what I meant, you air-head!” He yelled through gritted teeth. Throughout his thought process, he’d figured if he’d covered up his indignance at you and Hobin sharing a room with an annoyed front and changed it quickly, he’d be able to avoid having to face your confrontation on why he was so concerned. And he’d figured by doing this, he’d be able to avoid confronting his feelings for you himself as well.
However, as reckless and spontaneous as he acted, hiding his true intentions, his embarrassment was thinly veiled.
He sent the lady behind the check-in register a glare. “Change it.”
She began to type something, and you could visibly see a layer of sweat beam on her forehead nervously. “Uh, s-so I’m switching you two to be in the same room, right?” She stammered out, hurriedly complying, and you scoffed.
“Wha-?! Do I just not get a say in this?!”
Your objection was shut down swiftly by a glower being sent your way, triggering your flight or fight response. “What?” He seethed, head tilting back threateningly, “are you saying you want to share a room with that loser?” The dark aura surrounding him seeped into the atmosphere, and you shuddered.
Rubbing the back of your neck, you gave in. “Ah - uh, well, I don’t mind either, I guess… heh…”
Hitting one last letter on her keyboard, the lady behind the register spoke up, grabbing your synchronized attention. “Alright, so,” she squinted at her screen, “Hobin is now in a room alone, and you two are sharing one. Is that right?”
Wanting the entire ordeal over with, he nodded furiously, before grabbing your wrist and leading you along behind him. You’d protest and inquiry further, but truthfully, it felt nice to be wanted, even if the reason why wasn’t made clear to you.
-
“Oh, man.” You chided casually, hand sliding off the strap of your backpack to rest at your side. “Only one bed… how cliche.”
You made sure to implicate a sense of normalcy to your words, trying to make this feel like no big deal at all. By your side, he just stood still, like a frozen statue. His eyes were wide, and you couldn’t tell if it was shock or agitation.
Engulfed in silence, you waited to see if he’d say anything, but were met with no response. “Well… looks like one of us is gonna have to sleep on the floor.” Secretly, you hoped he would be ‘one of us’. However, he provided an alternative.
Dropping his bag on the floor with an extra amount of force so it’d slam onto the ground, he stormed to the bed, leaving you standing idly at the door. Curling into the farthest possible left corner of the mattress, he shrunk into himself somewhat, blowing out of his nostrils.
“Whatever,” he shrugged, “it’s no big deal. I don’t give a damn.” His gaze made sure to avoid yours like the plague before this, but now he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, patiently; awaiting your reaction somewhat… worriedly. Concerned to what you’d say, and wether it would be an indirect rejection against him, or a more pleasant answer.
Secretly, you’d wished this unforeseen circumstance would’ve elicited more of a reaction. If he liked you, he probably would’ve refused instantly, right?
It felt like you were being friend zoned, the way he want about it so mundanely, and your face was blank as your thoughts grew more and more forlorn and disappointed. You’d gotten lost in them after a while, like a-
“Are you gonna fuckin’ say anything?”
Snapping you out od your thoughts, you redirected your focus to the moment at hand, and quickly made a decision.
“Hmf…” you stared at him with wide eyes briefly, before humming. “Alright.” You slung your backpack off of your shoulder. “If you don’t care, neither do I.”
He went slack at your words, releasing a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. When your weight dipped under the bed as you climbed on, his eyes were faced forwards; but he was acutely aware of every shift and creak of the bed.
“...” Glaring at the wall, his face felt hot again. So close…
“Well,” you smiled. “Good night, then.”
Strands of hair fell over his face when he sent you a look over his shoulder scrutinizingly, before he fixed his vision forwards again, resting his head on his hands. “Yeah, yeah… ‘night or whatever. Just stay on your side.”
You’d fallen asleep much quicker than he had, his heart skittering too loudly in his skull for him to catch any rest, until your even and serene breaths lulled him asleep as well.
Normally, he was a fairly heavy sleeper. However that night, he was instantly pulled from his dreams, and his eyes abruptly snapped open when he felt a glacial cold on the lower extremity of his leg.
He awoke to a piercing cold.
You were woken when you went flying off the bed, sent by a kick to the middle of your stomach. Any sleepiness remaining in you was expelled the moment you collided with the floor, rolling a bit from the momentum.
With a pained groan, you lifted yourself on your elbow. “Hey, what the hell?!” You griped, looking up to see he’d rolled onto your side of the bed - or at least, what was your side of the bed, eyes narrowed at you from above.
Rubbing the part of your head which had hit the floor, you scowled. “What’s your problem? Don’t tell me you’re a sleep kicker…”
Remnants of exhaustion were still evident under the crevices of his eyes, however that didn’t impede the lour he directed to you. “Yer sleep in’ on the floor tonight.”
You looked oddly sad at that, shoulders boxing into a square. “Wha- what did I do?!”
The blades of his shoulders stiffened up to his jaw, and he squawked. “Don’t tell me you don’t know! Your feet are fuckin’ freezing!”
You seemed to ponder for a moment, internally wondering if they really were that cold - it’s not like you’d ever slept with anyone before in the same bed. Eyeing your unnecessarily intense expression, he stubbornly scoffed, before retreating back to his side of the bed. Not that he it was needed, as he’d claimed the entire thing for his own.
And you’d been banished from your own bed. The one in the room he argued you’d stay in!
Furiously, you picked yourself up to your feet, and stormed back to the bed. You didn’t even have to listen to him, he didn’t own the room, right?
Your rampage was cut short when he noticed you approaching, and swung his legs off the corner of the bed you were headed towards defensively. With your means of getting up now hindered, you wondered if you could just walk around to the other side and hop on, but realized he’d probably make it there before you. And then you’d be faced with the same situation, so it’d be easier to just handle it here and now.
Leaning down and summoning the most menacing stare you could to match his own, you started speaking. “Let me on.”
“No way.”
Frowning deeply, you tried to attempt overreaching past him and somehow mauevering yourself onto the bed from then. You weren’t gonna sleep on the floor; not in a room you were told to be in by the very guy kicking you off the mattress. Your hand flashed past the arch of his neck to reach the bed behind him, but mid-way a blur of pasty skin was quicker than your motion; and you found your hand blocked by the side of his palm. You scowled lowly, and tried again on the other side of his head, but met the same outcome.
Intimidatingly, he stood, but you stared him down, trying to be as unpredictable as possible. With a small groan of exertion, you tried to fly your hand past him, but this time it was kicked away by the head of his foot; and you let out an “ouch”.
“Yikes, that stings, asshole!” You growled, before going at it again, and being kicked again - this time stumbling aback from the force. This kept going for a prolonged amount of time, you reaching and him deflecting your attacks.
“Damnit!” You reached - he kicked. “Let me-“ this time you tried to glide besides him and jump into the bed with your entire body wholly. He kicked your shoulder back, and you heard it pop. “-get on-“ you went for the other side. He blocked. “-the fucking bed!” With a sudden surge of confidence spurred from your fatigue, you just jumped with no prior plan or idea and mind. His foot crashed into your stomach, and you lost your breath when you were propelled back, and hit the floor.
Now on the floor again, you somewhat subsided to your fate, and a few minutes passed as he’d gotten back into the bed to your upmost chagrin, and you were stuck on the cold hard floor. Drawing senseless doodles into the floor with your finger, you grumbled to yourself angrily.
“-fucking inviting ME to HIS room ‘nd then kicking ME off the bed… little asshole… one of these days…”
You considered how things would’ve turned out had he not interfered with the rooming plan for whatever reason he did. “Yoo Hobin would never treat me like this…”
You could hear the sheets beneath him shuffle as his upper body went taut, and it creaked when he sat up and glared at you again. “What did you just say?” Despite his harsh and cold tone, he looked somewhat guilt-ridden.
Feeling especially spiteful, you averted your gaze to the floor again and continued your nonsensical tracing of the floorboards. “Oh, nothing, I just said that YOO HOBIN WOULD NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THIS.” Your tone was casual, but near the end you amplified your voice as loud as possible to draw out the guilt in him. It was deserved, that’s what he gets for kicking you off.
You picked yourself up, headed towards the door. “Maybe I’ll just go sleep with him…” you knew deep down you wouldn’t. You didn’t want to wake him up if he was asleep, but you hoped he would somehow stop you before you reached the door. If not, to save your pride, you’d continue to storm out the door and then just wander the halls ‘till daylight.
“... Fine. You can sleep here… just stay the hell away from me.”
You beamed, mood doing a complete 180. “Really?!” You clasped your hands together gratefully. “Thanks so much! Don’t worry, I’ll stay on my side.”
You jumped onto the bed, now appreciating it much more than before, and when you’d finally settled comfortably your eyes fluttered to a close. It would’ve been extremely peaceful, had you not felt a sudden pressure against your chest.
Eyes blinking open, you arched a brow when you saw him posed to kick you, keeping his leg besides your upper body.
“... And what’s this for?” You asked, unnerved. He lidded his eyes at you.
“To make sure you keep your cold feet on your fucking side… if you cross over, I’ll freaking kill you.”
“Aren’t you technically on my side now and infringing upon the rules you set yourself?”
The look of hatred he sent you made you chuckle nervously, a drop of sweat sliding down your forehead. “Heh… okay…” with a sigh, you just gave in. “Well, it certainly beats sleeping on the floor.”
He glared at you broodingly, in spite of the red color painting his face. You closed your eyes and smiled, content.
“Goodnight.”
“If I feel yer feet come on my side, you won’t live to see daylight.”
That was good enough for you. Signing tiredly through an exhale, you fell asleep, him watching your peaceful expression until he drifted off too.
(Unedited)
Ur not annoying me w ur requests at all!!!! I love writing them, u could never annoy me by requesting lol DONT worry!! I hope this was what u wanted w ur ask, it ended up rlly long and unexpectedly sweet? and I’m not certain if u have read how to fight, but if u haven’t, based on ur last few requests I think u would like taehoon, wangguk and thus one other guy who’s name I don’t remember but his hair is in a bun LOL. It’s by the same author if lookism so if u haven’t read it I definitely recommend it!!!!! Ty for requesting ❤️❤️❤️
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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years
Text
oh, captain, my captain
pairing: professor!steve rogers x reader
word count: 2,090
summary: Steve Rogers got bored in his retirement, so he picked up the hobby of teaching art. But he still feels restless until his missing piece comes along.
warnings: swearing, little bit of smutty smut, dub-con, drinking, manipulation, steve is a little dark but reader is into it in the end
a/n: This is... a little darker than what most people expect from me. But I wrote this for a dear friend, so I really, really hope you all enjoy it!! Also, please read the warnings. I'm not responsible for your media consumption <3
Life after the Avengers was mundane.
Not that Steve didn’t like the quiet days, where he knew he wasn’t going to be running off and risking his life at any moment, mind you. In fact, he was finding that retirement rather suited him.
Except for the fact that he was bored.
Bucky and Sam were always busy on some kind of mission together, saving the world and splitting their time between Brooklyn, Washington D.C., and New Orleans. Or NOLA, as Buck liked to call it now.
Perhaps the boredom was why he took up art again. He did go to art school, after all, and had even graduated. It was after his first official professional art show that the university contacted him.
They wanted him to teach young minds how to make art.
It was the perfect solution to his boredom problem.
Of course, he should’ve realized that getting a new job wouldn’t make him feel complete. No, unfortunately, he hasn’t found the missing piece in his hundred years.
At least until you walked into his classroom on the first day.
Steve’s eyes focused on you immediately, enamored by the curve of your legs and the Cupid’s bow of your upper lip. “Hello, you,” he mumbled softly under his breath as he watched you sit down to what appeared to be a friend of yours. He scrolled through his attendance on the school supplied computer in front of him, raising his brows as he found the name next to your university ID picture.
A perfect name for a perfect girl.
Suddenly he felt the need to have a few figure drawing classes. Privately. With you. With your clothes off.
And maybe his clothes would be off, too.
He stood up as the clock finally hit one in the afternoon, holding his laptop. “Alright, please let me know if you’re here as I call your names,” he said, before going through the roster quickly.
When he called your name, and you responded with a soft, “Here!” he almost fucking came in his pants.
“Alright. In this class, as with many art classes, we’re going to get very… personal,” he said as he started to walk through the easels and those sitting in front of them. “So on the first day, rather than reading through the syllabus that’s readily available on your phone, I like to do some ice breakers.” He couldn’t help but grin at the collective groan that rang through the class. “I know, I know. But like I said, this class is going to get very personal. So come on, let’s all get in a little closer.”
“Do you mind?” You asked quietly as you scooted her stool in between two others that he couldn’t remember the names of. You gave them a blinding smile as they made room, perching in your seat like a little angel.
His little angel.
Everything seemed to be a blur as he led them in a series of questions, but he barely retained any information from anyone except you. At least he had his phone secretly recording in his pocket so he could go back and relisten later (even if it was mostly just to hear your voice.)
Favorite color?
“Green.”
Favorite holiday?
“New Year’s Eve.”
Favorite artist?
“Marilyn Minter.”
That was interesting to him. That showed that you had a naughty side.
A side he so desperately wanted to get to know.
The only issue was that he needed to find a way to get you alone, and that was going to take trust built up over time.
He was truthfully, absolutely amazed that it only took a few weeks before you were coming to him with wonder-filled eyes, asking him if you could please schedule some time during his office hours to go over some of your portfolio.
Abso-fucking-lutely.
“Hey, you made it,” he said when you walked in after a light knock on the door, your portfolio in hand. Steve stood and immediately pulled out the chair for you like a proper gentleman. Subtly, he took in a deep breath as the cloud of your perfume enveloped him like a warm hug.
It was something classy. Something you had clearly splurged on.
Perhaps Gucci or Valentino or something.
“I’m sorry for being late,” you said as Steve glanced at the clock.
You were maybe three minutes late at the most.
“The subway was delayed, and unfortunately, I can’t control when the subway stops and goes,” you continued, letting out a nervous laugh as you opened up your portfolio. “Did you get my email with my previous pieces?”
“Yes, I did!” He said as he sat back down at his desk. “And honestly, I haven’t been this impressed in a long, long time. I would love to possibly mentor you? Of course, that means a lot more hours spent with an old man like me.” Eyes crinkling, he couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed.
He was sure that he almost had you right where he wanted you. The corner you were backing yourself into was almost too perfect.
You seemed… amazed. Absolutely flabbergasted by his offer. “Really?” You breathed out, leaning closer, elbows resting on your knees. “You’d really do that? That would be… I… Thank you.” Shaking your head, you scooted your chair a little closer. “How much should I pay you? I’ve never had a personal mentor before.”
And there it was. The corner he wanted you in.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry about money,” he insisted as he looked deep into your eyes. It would be so easy to just get lost in them… “But, I do need assistance with something.”
“Of course!” You were like a doe-eyed little fawn, chasing him—the magnificent stag—through a field of wildflowers. “Whatever you want!”
Steve put on the most bashful, boy next door look he could muster. “Well… I’ve been trying to get back into figure drawing, but you’d be surprised at how hard it is finding a class to take that won’t freak out that I’m… you know. Steve Rogers.”
The look on you face let him know immediately there was no way you were going to say no. Hell, you were looking at him like he was the last puppy on the side of the road in a box that had ‘FREE’ written on the side.
In the rain.
“When do we start?”
Steve got everything set up in his home studio that night, only to sit until Friday night, when he’d planned for you to come over. Admittedly, he may have gone a little overboard with the mood lighting and the bottle of red wine that he’d left open on the counter to breathe, two crystal wine glasses resting next to it.
The good crystal.
He practically ran to the door when he heard the doorbell. “Hey, I was a little worried you would have trouble finding it,” he said as he guided you inside, a large hand coming to rest on the small of your back.
“Oh, I just Ubered,” you said, ducking your head as you let him lead you into his large home. “I don’t have a car. It’s too expensive and there’s no point when I live in the city. Though, the drive out here was absolutely gorgeous. I can see why you got a place a little bit upstate.”
Steve grinned, fighting the urge to say that it could also be your place. But that was for the future. “Yeah, the views and the quiet is worth the forty-five minutes or so I commute everyday.” He opened up the door to his home studio, all the windows wide open.
You wandered around the room, looking at the various art supplies and canvases scattered haphazardly around the room. In the very center was a chaise lounge with a blanket draped across it. “This is amazing… God, if I had my own art studio at home, I don’t think I’d ever leave.”
He poured out two glasses of wine, gently pressing one into your hands. “Well, you can always use this one. I have more space than I could probably ever use.” He sipped at his own wine, watching the way the glass pressed to your lips, watching the way you swallowed down the sweet liquid.
He couldn’t get drunk, but you certainly could.
It was around your third glass that he finally got to the point of why you were there. “So, I really want to paint you lying on this chaise,” he said as he guided you back. “But… Would it be possible for you to pose in the nude? You have just… the most natural beauty. I want to be able to only focus on that.”
“Oh my god, yeah!” You said as you set your glass of wine on the little table. With your inhibitions lowered, there was no hesitation as you stripped out of your clothing, tossing it all to the side. “You just move me how you want me.”
Oh, he would.
His own wine glass was set to the side before he moved closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Yeah?” He guided you to lie down on the bed, letting his fingers drift over your soft skin. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous… Could just look at you forever…” His thumb brushed over one of your hard nipples, teasing the little peak as his cock ached inside his sweats. “I could never paint anything else except for you… and I’d die the happiest man in the world.” Carefully, gently, he moved your legs so one of your knees was bent, your legs spread wide for him.
Your eyes fluttered shut, your skin feeling flushed from the wine and the excitement of this god-like man touching you. “Mmm… Professor…”
Steve’s eyes were locked in on the prize, that blooming flower between your thighs, glistening with sweet nectar. “I always love a hands on approach,” he cooed as he ran a single finger through your folds, gathering up your slick.
The taste was exquisite.
Pretty moans fell from your lips, your back arching as your legs instinctively spread wider for him. “Please…”
He knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. It was fate, you walking into his class.
“Do you want me to touch you, baby girl?” He asked, loving the purr that rumbled in your chest as he found your swollen clit. “So needy… When’s the last time your pretty little kitty got so much attention, angel? You’ve been neglecting her, haven’t you?”
At your nod, you tried sitting up a bit, lip caught between your teeth. “Y-Yes. Please… Please.”
Steve quickly realized you didn’t even know what you were asking for.
“So innocent. So sweet,” he said as he wrapped his hands around your waist to pull you to the edge of the chaise. He leaned in and took in a deep breath, groaning. “I wanna be able to smell you for days.” At the first lick of his tongue, he knew he had you wrapped around his fingers.
And when you finally orgasmed, soaking his beard with your juices? Fuck. He was even more of a goner than he was before.
Steve loved the way that you laid limbless on the chaise, foot lazily bouncing as you dozed. It was easily a sight that he could get very, very used to very quickly. This was going to be so much easier than he thought it was going to be.
While he knew he was the right one for you, being able to know that you weren’t going to fight him gave him an amazing sense of relief.
The next week, he stood at his desk, making notes on his laptop. At five minutes to one, the door opened as the first student to arrive entered.
Immediately looking up, his heart sank. It wasn’t you.
Did you panic after you left his place the next morning? Nothing more had happened that night. Surely getting an orgasm wouldn’t freak you out, right?
His hands were starting to tremble when the door opened again, and he felt someone standing right next to him.
“Professor Rogers?”
His head snapped up, relief flooding him when he saw you. “H-Hello. How can I help you?”
A mischievous smile spread across your face, even though you were clearly trying to contain it. “Is there any possible way you have some free time during your office hours for me to swing by? I’d love to schedule our next figure painting session.”
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dovenymph · 3 years
Text
little lune
authors note: inspired by @soulmemesarc birthday prompts!🥳🎂 also this is unedited sorry for any typos
" no no no! breakfast in bed for the birthday girl/boy/angel! lie down, let me take care of this... "
" so there's this tradition. a law, really. i have to kiss you as many times as your age. so prepare yourself, babe. "
find my masterlist here
word count: 1.9k
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you and harrison really didn’t have much in common.
this, you discovered, on your first date. he’d seen you at his neighborhood coffee shop on multiple occasions and prayed each day that you couldn’t see the infatuation building in his eyes, hoping one day soon, he’d’ve built up the courage to finally talk to you.
and you both thank god that that day had come and you spent nearly the entire day tucked away in the corner of the cafe talking about everything and anything.
he loved dogs, liked to consider himself a dog dad, even though the blue-grey staffy he showed you just over one million pictures of, technically belonged to his best friend. you on the other hand, grew up with cats curled up at your feet.
harrison could stay out all night, and did most weekends! very used to having to scrub last nights remnants off his body in the mornings and piecing together the events through blurry instagram stories. whereas, you were much more lowkey. always down for a good time, but couldn’t really stand the feeling of other people’s sweat on you while packed in a crowded club
despite this, the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces. like he was the sun, and you were the moon.
when harrison first brought up the comparison, you laughed and teased him for being such a cliche but when he smiled down and replied with “just for you, my little lune”
your face burned under his palms as he spoke the pet name so adoringly and with so much kindness in his eyes. and in that moment, you both knew that your differences in opinion were trivial and the only thing that mattered was you both bonded over your growing affection.
your face burned under his palms as he spoke the pet name so adoringly and with so much kindness in his eyes. and in that moment, you both knew that your differences in opinion were trivial and the only thing that mattered was you both bonded over your growing affection.
there was one thing you both had in common though and that was sleep.
there was one thing you both had in common though and that was sleep.
you could sleep for hours each, harrison very proudly bragging that his record was 18 hours straight.
whenever you went over to his house, he immediately locked the two of you in his room, receiving many suggestive comments from his roommates about the nature of your activities, but in reality he just locked his arms around you and took you to dreamland with him as the two of you slept the day away.
so it was no surprise that that was the position you both were in right now, the morning of your birthday slipping away like a handful of sand through open fingertips.
soon enough though, the ring of your phone had gone off too many times for you to ignore and you had to wake up and face the multitude of happy birthday calls you were receiving, without a doubt waking your boyfriend in the process.
“mmm, tell them to fuck off” he muttered as your cousin wished you a happy birthday, the phone being passed around to all your relatives.
“can’t babe, m’family’s callin’”
“b-but… we haven’t had a birthday snuggle yet”
the softness in his tone (his teddy bear persona being reserved for your eyes only) practically melted you “almost over, m’love”
five minutes later, the last of your cousins and aunts and uncles had wished you a happy birthday and you hung up, the multiple conversations taking away any last shreds of slumber.
you looked over at haz who had his face smushed into the pillow, his soft, blond hair swept into his face, looking as delicate as ever. his hands involuntarily twitching at the comforter as they called out for yours to intertwine with.
with a smile you cautiously slipped off the bed, but he still awoke anyways, poking his head up like a child. “where ya going?”
“to start the kettle, go back to sleep.”
“no no no!” he whined “breakfast in bed for the birthday girl. lie down, let me take care of this.” he dragged himself out of bed, placed a tender and loving kiss to your forehead before shoving you to the mattress and throwing the covers over your entire body, leaving you nothing but a giggling white sheet.
his heart soared in his chest at the sound as he made his way to your kitchen. he’d only been over your place a few times, your relationship still relatively new. so he tried his best to quietly turn on the kettle and then locate your pots and pans to get started on a birthday breakfast for you.
as he was flipping the pancakes, he started thinking about making a little smile with the strawberries and that brought a little smile to his face.
he barely recognized himself when he was around you. he was so lovesick, so head over heels for you. unlike he’d ever been with any of his previous girlfriends.
your relationship wasn’t in the early stages per-say, he openly called you his girlfriend, and you your boyfriend, but he still felt the need to impress you, he still felt nerves creep in his stomach before every date. the honeymoon stage, as some liked to call it. the comfortability was just around the corner, he was sure of it. but until then, he liked to keep you on your toes.
placing the meal on a tray and walking back to your bedroom, he thought to later tonight and bit his lip. he had planned something for you, something grand. it was a little much for your first birthday spent together, but he only realized that after everything was payed for; but you deserved it. you deserved all the magnificent things life had to offer, and he would fall to his knees in order to be the one to give them to you. so he hoped you would like it.
“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my darling, happy birthday to you” he sung as you looked up at him from under the covers.
“thank you, lovie. it looks great.” you smiled and he carefully placed the tray on your lap, crawling up next to you.
“anything for you, lune.” he spoke with a kiss to your lips.
that was how the morning progressed, bites of pancake shared here and there, syrup flavored kisses peppered in between.
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
haz’s wet chest was pressed against your back in the bath. the room scented vanilla and filled to the brim with bubbles and candlelight.
“what do you want to do later today, haz?”
“anything you like sweetness, you’re the birthday girl.”
“hmm, nothing planned big guy?” you teased, and he splashed a little water on your exposed torso.
“of course i do… but, it’s still your day, you can do whatever you want.” he replied, pressing kisses to your neck.
“whatever i want?”
“mmhmm, have whatever, do whatever… have me do whatever you want… to you” he spoke, voice deep and kisses hard.
your heart rate picked up, sure he could sense it as he pressed his tongue to your pressure point, gasping you consented with “i like the sound of that”
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
“haz… can you at least slow down???”
“sorry! sorry! it’s not my fault i swear!” he retorted, swerving in and out of his lane.
“yeah well i can’t exactly tell now can i?” you snapped, feeling around the blindfold he insisted you wore
“hey! don’t mess with it! we’re almost there!” harrison looked over at you and worried his bottom lip in nervousness. the location was only down the road and every possibility was running through his head. did he invite enough of your friends? sure you got along with his housemates and coworkers, but he didn’t want you to feel awkward at your own party. was it too much, would you feel too pressured?
he turned into the parking lot and took a deep breath, you were here now, so it was now or never. “can i take it off now?”
“yes, sweetness.”
you yanked it off and immediately looked around, face contorting in confusion.
“cmon, it’s around the corner.” he grabbed your hand and started to make his way.
“i- i hope you like it. if you don’t that’s fine, we can do something else. i swear! no pressure really, this, this is really just an idea. but i thought it seemed fun, so i, yeah, again, i just hope you like it.” he rambled, about to add on another reassurance that you could leave whenever you wanted when your gasp interrupted him.
“woah…” you took in the field before you. fair games, food trucks, rides and even a ferris wheel covered the entire ground. your friends already enjoying the festivities.
“haz this… this is amazing…” your head snapped towards his as you thew yourself into his arms. “th-thank you so much, oh my god!”
harrison knew that if you weren’t anchoring him in that moment, he would’ve floated to heaven. you were so sweet and happy, he was more than elated.
“it’s all for you, babe. let’s go enjoy, yeah?” he said, pride running through his veins at the good job he did.
you found your friends, all giving you bear hugs and dragging you away from harrison to go on rides. he didn’t mind, he got to spend all day with you, and you were too good not to share.
he sat at one of the picnic benches as tom brought over two slices of pizza. “mate, i gotta say, this is fucking awesome”
harrison beamed at him at the compliment. “yeah i know!”
tom laughed and shook his head, “wanna call you a smug div, but honestly, y’should be proud of yourself.”
harrison felt his cheeks warm at his friends words. “thanks mate, i- i’m just glad she likes it.”
tom let out a *whapush* noise, “so whipped.” and harrison just rolled his eyes, but bit back any denials. he was whipped for you. not only did the thousands in pounds he spent for tonight prove it, but the way his heart danced in his chest at the mere though of you, did too.
“yeah, i guess i am” he smirked, meeting tom in a fist bump and beelined towards you.
you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind as you spoke to your friend, her eyes lighting up at the scene.
“mind if i steal her for a moment?” he asked, giving your friend his best puppy eyes, to which she giggled and shook her head, sending you a wink on her way.
“y’alright, birthday girl?” he muttered, head buried in your neck.
“more than alright. thank you again haz, i really, i really don’t know how i can make this up to you.”
he spun you around in his arms and gave you a passionate kiss, trying to convey all his love through it, hopefully telling you that you didn’t have to make anything up to him, that he’d buy you the earth if it’d make you smile.”
when he pulled away, you stared up at him like he was a figure from your dreams and he thinks you understood him.
“cmon, let’s go on the ferris wheel!”
“lead the way, lune.”
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
the night sky surrounded you both as you at at the top of the ferris wheel, looking down at the city.
“so…,” harrison began. you hummed in response and he squeezed your clasped hands together.
“so there's this tradition. a law, really. i have to kiss you as many times as your age. so prepare yourself, babe.”
you laughed and scooted impossibly closer to him, “oh yeah?”
“mmhmm! now remember, i don’t make the laws, only enforce them.”
he began to count upwards from one and kiss your lips. some soft and light, others held out and leaving you a little breathless.
“so many kisses tonight, i love it”
“well there’s more where that came from.” he said, “now where was i? oh right, 16…”
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ayybtch · 4 years
Text
You’re Worth A Perjury Charge
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Bucky Barnes x Reader
Part of A Mutual Weirdness
Summary: Bucky finds a kitten outside of your apartment and brings him inside. You make him be a responsible adult and take the cat to the vet to find out if it's microchipped, but Bucky is so head over heels for his newfound furbaby he’s willing to risk legal repercussions. 
Word Count: 2,422
Warnings: None! Bucky being absolutely adorable with a cat
A/N: So I didn’t previously have a tag list for this series, but I started one for my Wanda fic and a couple people asked about it for this so I’m starting one! Let me know if you’d like a tag! Additionally, you don’t have to have read the part before this but it’s a little funnier if you have given that the script is flipped between them. 
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“Uh, Bucky, what the hell is that?” you ask, eyes wide at the wet ball of fur poking out of Bucky’s leather jacket. 
Bucky looked down at the little white cat, smiling as it meowed softly. “I found this little guy by the trash cans downstairs. It was raining so I couldn’t just leave him there.” 
You stared at him in disbelief.  “If that’s where you found him, how do you know he isn’t one of my neighbors’ cats? I get wanting to get him out of the rain, but the heart eyes you’re giving him makes me think you want to keep him.”
Bucky frowned at you, “Of course I’m keeping him. Look at him, he’s soaking wet and looks half starved! Clearly, he’s not being taken care of if he does belong to someone, so really I’m just doing everyone here a favor by taking him in.” He glared at you as you started to laugh.
“Oh, I can just see the headline now: ‘Former Winter Soldier Locked in Cat Custody Battle’. Some little old lady who just adopted this cat - ” you laughed too hard to speak for a moment, “- is going to go berserk and sue you for everything you’re worth just because you like her cat.” 
Bucky huffed and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the cat meowing. The smile on his face as he stared down at the little bundle of fur made you melt, though you did your best to hide that fact from Bucky.  
Bucky nodded along attentively as the kitten continued to meow. “I know, she’s being so inconsiderate of your well-being, isn’t she? She’s worried about some little old lady suing me over you. Well, guess what? She can sue me all she wants, I’m not letting you go. Even if I have to lie to a judge and say ‘I plead not guilty in case of the missing cat. Please ignore the gentle meows coming from inside my jacket - ” He paused again as the cat continued to meow. “Mhm, you are absolutely right. You’re worth a perjury charge.” 
What on Earth was happening here? You are the animal crazy one, not Bucky. Yet here you are, being the reasonable and responsible adult in a situation involving an animal. The irony of the situation hit you and you couldn't help but chuckle. 
Your laughter eventually died as you noticed the heart eye expression on Bucky’s face. He was already completely enamored with the kitten. Sighing, you knew you needed to find a middle ground and fast. 
“Bucky, baby, would you at least be willing to take him to go see a vet? We owe it to whoever might own the cat to see if there’s a microchip. If there’s not one, we can get a check up on the little guy while we’re there and make sure he’s good to go.” 
Bucky stared at you suspiciously for a moment before responding. “What do you mean ‘good to go’? You don’t mean to get rid of him, do you?” 
You shook your head. “No baby, I just want to make sure he’s okay so you have a happy, healthy kitty in your life.” You almost didn’t get your sentence out before he was squishing you into a hug. A small gasp escaped his lips and he pulled away abruptly.
“I could’ve squished the baby! Are you okay?” Bucky pulled out the cat and examined him anxiously. A small squeak left the cat, confirming he was okay. 
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While he agreed that a vet visit was in order, the new challenge was figuring out when to take the cat. Bucky refused to take him back into the rain, claiming it was going to make him sick. You conceded and agreed to let the kitten stay until the weather broke. That was all Bucky needed to start trying his hardest to convince you that he should keep the cat regardless of what the vet said. Every time the cat did anything cute, Bucky was gasping and pointing out how cute he was. He almost started crying when the cat pounced on a random sock laying next to the coffee table, swearing up and down he had never seen a more precious sight in his life. 
The number of pictures Bucky was taking of the kitten as he explored the apartment was hysterical. Any time he took an exceptionally cute picture, he immediately sent it to you. You currently had 18 unopened messages from Bucky, each one a different picture of the cat. You finally had to put an end to it once the kitten curled up on a pillow in the living room, settling down for a nap.
You tugged on Bucky’s hand and led him over to a barstool and gestured for him to sit. You made two sandwiches, handing one to him once it was done. The two of you ate in silence. It wasn’t until you were almost done eating that you spoke.
“You know, it’s kind of refreshing having you be the one that’s animal crazy for a change.”
Bucky smiled at you sheepishly. “What can I say, you’ve rubbed off on me.” His voice was teasing as he spoke, but the slight blush on his face suggested this was all just as unexpected to him as it was to you. A second silence fell over you, but this time he was the one who broke it.
“So what should we name him?” he asked, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the new pictures on his camera roll. 
You sighed and put your head in your hands. “Baby, I know you’re excited but remember what we talked about. We don’t know if he belongs to anyone yet. Let’s not go getting ahead of ourselves.”
Bucky sighed and nodded slightly.
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Four days later, the two of you walked into the vet’s office hand in hand. It was the earliest appointment you were able to make without it being an emergency and you were worried that the extra few days did nothing but increase Bucky’s attachment. The kitten was adorable, you couldn’t deny it. There were times you thought about how nice it would be to finally have a little furry companion but you refused to keep an animal that could belong to someone else. 
Once the three of you arrived, you were checked in promptly by the receptionist and were led into the exam room by an overly peppy vet-tech a few minutes later. Once inside, she gently grabbed him out of Bucky’s arms and made kissy noises at him as she began her portion of the exam. 
Watching the kitten refuse to hold still during the weighing process was amusing to say the least. He kept moving around and trying to jump off the scale. It took several attempts, but she was finally able to record his weight. She fared a little better while taking his temperature given she was holding him, but the kitten still wiggled trying to escape her hold. 
“I wonder why he’s being such a spaz right now. He had no issues with me holding him yesterday. At least, none that I noticed.” Bucky paused and turned to face you, confusion written on his face, “Did he give you a hard time when you held him?” 
The vet-tech chimed in before you had the chance to respond, “He’s probably just decided you’re his person. Cats are a lot like people in that they pick their person and trust them to do things they don’t trust anyone else with. He doesn’t know me, so it makes sense he’s being a little fussy.” She set the kitten back on the exam table and he jumped into Bucky’s lap.
Bucky stared down at the little bundle of fur that was now purring as he rubbed his face against Bucky’s stomach. His expression was a mixture of shock, joy, and love. 
For the first time since Bucky had walked in with the cat, you truly contemplated helping Bucky keeping him even if he was microchipped. He was going to be crushed if this cat belonged to someone else. Your stomach twisted at the thought. If we can’t take him home, we’re immediately going to the animal shelter and Bucky can pick out as many cats as he likes, you thought. 
A knock at the door pulled your thoughts back to the room. A new woman in a white lab coat walked in with a smile on her face. “Good morning everyone, I’m Dr. Brown. I hear you guys were lucky enough to find a cat, is that right?”
Bucky nodded and looked down again at the cat with a smile, “Yes ma’am. I found him in the alley next to our apartment.” He carefully picked up the kitten still laying on his lap and handed him out to her. 
Dr. Brown smiled again as she reached out to grab him. “Why hello there handsome, how are you doing today? I’m gonna check to see if you’ve got a microchip which won’t be too bad, but I may have to give you a couple of shots -” her sentence was cut off by loud meowing from the kitten, almost as if he understood what she was saying. 
She chuckled before continuing, “I know, I know. Shots aren’t fun for anyone. But let’s find out about your microchip and finish the rest of the exam and see if they’re needed before we start complaining too much.” 
Bucky reached out and gripped your hand tightly as she set him down on top of the exam table. She held a small rectangular device just above his shoulder blades for a few moments before setting it down and continuing with the exam. She spent the entire time talking to the cat as she went about the exam. She checked both of his ears and his mouth before moving on to checking on the various limbs in his body. Once the exam was complete, she turned to face the two of you.
“Well, good news on all accounts. Mister Man here is a perfectly healthy kitten. He looks to be about 16 weeks and is in great shape all things considered. He does not have a microchip though, so that leaves us with some options moving forward.”
You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Bucky remained silent, though his grip on your hand grew slightly tighter. Dr. Brown didn’t wait for a response before continuing. 
“If you want to keep him, we’ll microchip him and start giving him his first round of shots today since we don’t know if he’s had any so far. We’ll also send you home with a little goodie bag with some treats, a small toy, and a packet with some basic information about caring for a new pet. If you don’t want to keep him, you guys are free to go and we can take him to a shelter from here. Fostering is another option if you’re not interested in keeping him but also don’t want him to go to a shelter.”
Bucky, who almost seemed to be in a daze after hearing there was no microchip, was suddenly brought back to life. “We’re keeping him,” he said firmly. The smile on his face was contagious and soon everyone in the room was smiling just as wide.
“Very well then, let me go get what I need so we can finish up here. I’ll be right back,” she said. You waited for her to leave the room before turning to face Bucky. 
“Well, since he’s officially yours now, I think it’s finally time for you to start thinking of names.”
Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, about that... I kind of already named him. I decided on a name after you went to bed the first night he was in the apartment with us.”
You faltered for a moment, unable to hide your shock. “O-okay. What are we calling him?”
“Alpine. It seems like a good name for a cat.”
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Twenty minutes later, you and Bucky were walking out of the vet's office feeling lighter than you did when you first walked in. Bucky was beaming as he looked down at Alpine, who was now officially his according to the paperwork stuffed inside his jacket. His joy was contagious and you were starting to feel the same sort of excitement Bucky had been feeling ever since he came across the poor thing in the alley. 
“So what do we do now?” you asked, moving closer to Bucky. He wrapped his free arm around your waist and thought for a moment. 
“Well, now that there are no foreseeable perjury charges over a cat in my future, I think it’s probably time to focus on my newfound fatherhood.” 
You groaned as he spoke, “Does this mean I’m going to have to put up with Dad jokes from now on?” 
The shit-eating grin on Bucky’s face answered for him. 
The walk back to the apartment was quick. The two of you spoke occasionally, but mostly enjoyed the quiet comfort of just being close to the other. Once you arrived at your apartment building, the doorman greeted you. You were ready to wave and keep walking, but Bucky held you back.
“Hey man, could you get a picture of the three of us? We just adopted this little guy and I’d like a picture to commemorate it,” Bucky asked, letting go of you to pull out his phone. The doorman nodded and took the phone.
Once he was done, Bucky thanked him and the three of you finally made your way back to the apartment. As soon as he was inside, Alpine jumped out of Bucky’s arm and made his way to the couch. He curled up in what was now officially his spot, making your heart swell. You turned to see if Bucky noticed, but he was too focused on his phone. 
“Already sending pictures of Alpine to Steve and Sam to brag about your newfound fatherhood?” you teased, arms wrapping around his middle as you spoke. He shook his head no and remained focused on the phone. Just as you were about to ask what he was doing instead, Bucky turned his phone around so you could see his screen. 
You were stunned, completely unsure of how to respond to what you were seeing. Slowly, you opened your mouth and tried to find the words, “Bucky, please explain to me how our cat already has a verified Instagram account?”
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therenlover · 4 years
Text
In Sickness And In Health (An 18+ James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)
This is 18+ content! If you are a minor, this work is not for you !!!
This fic is a sequel to my oneshot Heartsick, but it can be read as a standalone oneshot!
Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.
Tags: Smut with Plot, Weddings, Fluff, Ghost Smut, Cunnilingus, Sick!Reader, Obnoxious Titanic Knowledge
Rating: E, 18+
Warnings: Swearing, Major Character Death, Romanticization of Death, Murder, Unsafe Sex (it’s with a ghost, but just to be safe...), Mentions Of The Reader Having A Long Term Debilitating Illness
Word Count: 5500~
This fic has been crossposted to my AO3 under the same title
-------
“How are you feeling, my darling?”
James’s voice was soft as he entered your suite, slipping off his shoes before joining you on the bed. He smelled like antiseptic, hair and hands still damp from a recent wash. Underneath, though, was the sharp, coppery tang of blood.
You stretched as you answered, weak muscles shuddering with effort. “It’s a good day. Not great, I still feel like absolute shit, but I don’t feel like I’m actively dying anymore,”
“Well, that’s certainly an improvement,”
Your fiancé offered you a rare, genuine grin. Seeing him smile made the lie worth it.
In truth, you still felt truly terrible.
It had been almost three weeks since Mr. March had proposed, and true to his word he had been glued to your side helping you recover ever since. He helped you bathe, fed you meals, gave you medication, kept you entertained; days with him were filled with small, simple pleasures. You had never experienced anything like that attention before. Unfortunately, though, the time spent with James only seemed to help your mind, and not your body.
After close to two months of bed rest, your muscles were weak. It still took significant effort to do simple tasks like walking to the bathroom or using cutlery. Some days were better than others, but everything generally tended to end up as part of the indistinguishable haze of pain that clouded your memories lately. If nothing else, at least the fevers were less extreme.
The only light at the end of the tunnel was your wedding. It was still two weeks away, (“That’s plenty of time for you to recover fully, my dearest,” James had insisted) but once you were married that meant you could die. Oh, what a happy day that would be. There would be no more sickness, no more achy muscles, not another day of forced bed rest, just peace and quiet and plenty of sex. God, how you missed the sex…
Every day was another day closer to your peaceful end, and yet they seemed to stretch endlessly. Deep down, you worried that you might not even make it long enough to walk down the aisle alive. You shuddered at the thought. If James ended up having to carry you down the aisle you might just die of embarrassment before he had the chance to kill you.
“I can’t believe you killed someone without me,” You huffed, reaching out your shaking arms and inviting James to lay with you. He happily obliged.
“Would you have preferred me to let him live?” James pulled your torso gently onto his chest, letting you rest against him.
“No, but you could have at least let me watch. I’ve been stuck in here for weeks, James. I get bored,”
He ran a hand through your hair. “Perhaps next time darling, but hopefully, you will be well enough to join me before our next victim walks through the door,”
“Who was it this time?”
“A florist. Liz invited him to bring over a few samples before hiring him to do arrangements for the wedding, but they were atrocious. You should have seen them, my love, they were simply grotesque, not to mention that the color schemes didn’t even slightly match the carpets in the entrance hall. Who puts pink and yellow tulips in a wedding arrangement at a hall filled with reds and oranges?”
You gave a soft hum. “Were they all really that bad?”
“Well… perhaps I was a bit harsh, but can you truly blame me? I want our wedding day to be perfect. There shouldn’t be a single flower or ribbon out of place,” He emphasized his question by gently squeezing you to his chest.
“Is it really that important?”
James went still. “What do you mean by that, dearest?”
A sigh pushed through your lips, your chest aching from the effort. “I just don’t understand why we have to wait for this perfect wedding when we could just get married now. I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy a big ceremony, I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I’m just so tired James. Why does it matter if we say our vows in front of other people? There’s not gonna be anything legally or religiously binding between us anyway. Getting married to you, in my mind, is just promising to be by your side forever, so why does anything else matter besides you and me?”
Looking up, you noticed that Mr. March seemed to be deep in thought, lips pressed into a line as his thin eyebrows furrowed together. Your heart sank. Did a wedding ceremony really mean that much to him? In an instant guilt began to flood your stomach. You were really ruining a special moment in his life to die faster? Hell, did he even really want you to die? He had always relished in your warmth, enthralled by the thudding of your weak, living heart. Of course, he would hate you for rushing into marriage just to throw your life away. Or maybe he was stalling because it would be too much for him to kill you himself…
“James-” you placated, lifting a hand to his face, but he quickly snapped out of his thoughtful haze.
He gazed down at you with love in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips. “You’re right! We shall be married this afternoon!”
A jolt of shock ran down your spine.
“What?”
“As you said, our wedding is a binding of souls, my darling! Our love is sacred, withstanding time and mortality, so who are we to bend to the rules of the common man? If an intimate ceremony for two is what you desire, I shall not deny you,” In one smooth motion, James rolled on top of you, arms boxing you in as he loomed above. He looked absolutely unhinged, eyes glinting wildly in the yellow lamplight.
You knew then that there would never be anyone else. No one could compare to James, your James. He would devour you whole and you would thank him all the while. With a sudden burst of energy, you reached up and pulled him into a scorching kiss.
It was sloppy, all battling tongues and clashing teeth, nothing like the soft pressing of lips that you had been sharing lately. How had you gone almost two months without this? Your heart felt like it was about to burst right out of your chest. As James bit down hard on your lower lip, you pulled fistfuls of his pinstripe suit into your hands.
After a few more seconds of desperate, breathless kissing James pulled away. You panted for air below him. “Why’d you stop?”
To your dismay, he climbed off of you. His hard-on was fully visible through his thin dress pants as he stood. “As much as I would love to ravage you now, dearest, I believe we have vows to exchange,”
“Can’t we just do them in bed? I want you now,”
He chuckled at your whining. “I may be willing to compromise on many things, but this is not one of them,”
“Please, Mr. March,” Your words were loaded, innocent doe eyes boring into his very soul, “for me?”
You could tell it was a difficult decision, but James stood strong. “I can’t say you haven’t thoroughly tempted me, but I’m afraid not darling,” he said firmly, “Forgive me?”
With a sigh, you nodded. “Of course,”
The instant you gave in, he beamed. “Splendid! Now, it’s a shame that we don’t have your dress, but I believe I have given you several gowns that would serve nicely,”
“You’re not gonna let me get married in my pajamas?”
“Would you prefer that to wearing a dress?”
The genuine concern in James’ voice was enough to make you fold. The things his voice did to you….
“Darling,” you groaned, fighting your weak muscles as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, “look in the closet. There should be a black zip-up garment bag in there,”
He quirked up an eyebrow.
“Just do it,”
“As my bride commands,” James rushed to the closet, thumbing through gowns. By the time he found it you were on your feet, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “This one, darling?” he asked, pulling it from the rack.
You grinned. “That’s the one. Open it up for me?”
James undid the zip quickly. Once he saw the contents, he gaped. “You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding,”
Slowly, you made your way to James and hugged him from behind. “Well, it’s a good thing the wedding is happening now... can you help me get the dress on?”
He happily obliged.
In less than 15 minutes you were laced into your wedding dress and sitting at your vanity. James was by the phonograph looking at records while you finished pinning up your hair. It was finally time.
“What would you like me to play, darling? We don’t have the wedding march, but there are some decent options. Let’s see… The Swan? You always have loved Saint-Saëns. Or perhaps Songe d’Automne?” James asked. He had been strangely lenient; bending to your will on the wedding, letting you pick the music, allowing you to tease him with no repercussions. You shrugged it off.
“You would really play the song that played as the Titanic sank at our wedding?”
“I find it strangely fitting,”
With a soft laugh, you put the last pin in place and turned to your groom. “And so it is. I’ll compromise. We have Mon Coeur S’Ouvre A Ta Voix, don’t we? You’ll get your morbidity while I get my romance,”
“That sounds delightful, my dear. Good choice,”
James found the correct record and set it on the phonograph, placing the needle and cranking the arm with a well-practiced hand. Then, as the music began to play, he stood. It was like he was devouring you with his eyes, drinking in every detail of you as he approached. He offered you his hands. “Shall we begin, my darling?”
You joined him in the center of the room without hesitation, taking his offering with a smile, “I think we shall,”
“I admit,” James said, voice sweet and low, “that I am well out of my depth here, but before we begin may I say that you, as you are now, are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you?”
Your face flushed. “What’s gotten into you, James? Are you getting soft on me?”
“We can only hope not, I have a reputation to uphold you know! I just can’t help but think…” his sentence drifted off as his gaze fell on yours, “I am a hard man, one of custom and habit. My life has been filled with monotony for as long as I have lived. Even killing has become commonplace for me. Things do not phase me the same way they phase you, darling, in all of your softness and perfection. I wonder if this is what will truly make you happy,”
“James!” you dropped his hands in order to cup his face, “I love you. I want to be with you. What would make you think I’m unhappy here?”
He covered your small fingers with his own, voice wistful. “I love you too, Y/N. Don’t misunderstand me, this wedding brings me more joy than you know. I simply wish to say that you will only get married once and I want it to be exactly to your liking. I have been engaged thrice and married once before, all of the pomp and circumstance is old news to me. For you, though, in all your youth…”
In a rare moment of openness, James bared himself to you. It was only right for you to do the same.
“I have never been more sure of myself than in this moment,” you whispered, leaning to let your forehead rest against his, “You are enough. I don’t need guests, or flower arrangements, or a cake to know I love you and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side. You’re right, I’m young and I’ve made a lot of dumb choices in my life, but loving you isn’t one of them. Take me, James, make me yours. This is where I belong”
As you spoke, you felt him relax against you.
“Well, you’ve certainly convinced me,” he murmured before pulling back and bringing your hands to his still, unbeating heart, “now, on with the show… my queen, the woman who has tamed my heart, you are the only one of your kind. No one else could move me the way you do. The moment I saw you walk into my hotel I knew that you would be mine, but I had no clue of the things you would do to my heart. You have changed me, mind, body, and soul. I can only hope that I’ve changed you in similar ways,”
While he was speaking, it suddenly hit you that this was it. Usually, brides had months of build-up to their weddings, filled with cake tastings and dress fittings and family and friends. You, though, had had only a few weeks to prepare, most of which were spent on strict bedrest while James took care of the planning. Even then, you had disregarded the plans. Tears of joy began to roll down your cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right in your whole life.
“Oh darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.
“I’m just so happy!”
“And you shall continue to be happy. As long as you remain by my side, you will want for nothing! I shall be with you in sickness and in health, through life and through death,” Suddenly, his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “You, Y/N, have captivated me. I wish to never be without you again,”
“You never will be,”
James smiled, squeezing your hands. In an instant, you realized it was your turn. You hadn’t given much thought as to what you would say, but as you gazed into his dark, hopeful, hungry eyes the words came to you as clear as day.
“James Patrick March,” you said, “I have never met anyone quite like you. When I first saw you, I had nothing. I was destitute. The Hotel Cortez was my last hope in life, but then, I spoke to you in the Blue Parrot Lounge and I suddenly knew exactly what my purpose in life was. Somehow, someway, I realized that I had been made to find you. You’ve given me so much, James. You showed me that life was worth living. I can’t think of a future for me that doesn’t include you. From this moment on, once I’m finally Mrs. March, we can finally be what we were made to be… one heart, one mind, one soul. I’ll never let you go. Marry me, James? Stay here with me until the world ceases to turn?”
“I will, darling. I do,” while he spoke, he reached into his pocket. “I had hoped that this ring would be sitting on your finger sooner. It belongs to the woman of the house, the holder of my heart… you, my dearest Mrs. March. Please say you love me, and that you’ll stay with me until nothing of this world remains?
You responded with a grin. “I love you, James… I do,”
Slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger. It was the first time you’d actually seen it up close, and it was more stunning than you remembered. A large, square-cut diamond sat on a bed of smaller rubies, and it was all held together by a delicate silver band that fit your finger perfectly. The red stones were a new addition. Had James had the ring altered just for you? You were about to ask when you caught his gaze.
“May I kiss the bride now, my darling?”
Instead of responding, you surged up and kissed him yourself. It was like none of the kisses you had ever shared before.
There was a passion to it, but it wasn’t desperate. It was more of a low, roiling thing, a time-bomb ticking down to explode. In seconds James’ cool hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer and messing up the pinned curls you had put in earlier. You found you didn’t quite care.
Your limbs were beginning to feel weak as you ran out of air, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your long-forgotten illness or if it was just the power James held over you. Part of you didn’t care anymore. As you pulled back for air, your husband reached around to the lacing at the back of your dress and began to pull at it, earning a few giggles as he loosened it enough that it fell from your body, leaving you almost bare in front of him.
“How I’ve craved you, my lovely wife,” he growled, palming your breasts through your bra, “it’s been far too long,”
His touch felt electric against your thin, soft skin. “Please, Mr. March, more,” You pressed yourself against your husband, feeling how your words affected him. He was rock hard. Something about that satisfied an ache in your heart. Even with you sick and weak, he needed you as much as you needed him.
In a swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, setting you down gently before settling himself between your legs. You whimpered as he sucked a deep bruise into your neck. He was an expert with his tongue, licking and sucking the skin like a man starved. It felt delightful, but you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel elsewhere.
As if he could read your mind, James grinned.
“All in good time, you little minx,”
Ever impatient, you fisted a hand into his hair in an attempt to get him to move lower. He stayed put.
“Does my lovely wife want something from me?”
You groaned as he wrapped his teeth around your bra strap and tugged before letting go, the elastic snapping against your already sweat-slick skin. “James, please,”
“Ah, ah, ah! Use your words, dearest. What do you want?”
His tutting made you flush from your cheeks to your chest. There was only one way to get what you wanted, and you knew exactly how to do it. With as much innocence as you could muster in your debauched state, you whispered, “Please sir, will you eat my pussy?”
James couldn’t hold back as he snapped his hips against the sheets. “That’s it darling! How could I say no to such a polite request?”
You released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. In a blink, your husband was undoing your bra and pulling it off, working his sinful mouth down to your breasts. His teeth grazed your nipple, drawing a high-pitched whine from your throat as your back arched, pushing you up towards his touch. It was like your body was a live wire. Every nerve was alive, buzzing at the slightest touch. Still, it wasn’t enough.
Thankfully, he was quick to move once again. He left a trail of gentle, sloppy kisses down your ribs and stomach before arriving at his desired destination. His hot breath against your soaked panties fanned the flames of arousal building within you. Once again, you whined.
Your husband had always loved eating you out. He never seemed happier than when he was buried between your thighs with his tongue buried between your folds, and once again he was faced with his favorite activity. The hungry look in his eye told you that he wanted it as much as you did.
“It’s a shame I didn’t get to remove your garter in front of the hotel. I would have so enjoyed showing them all just how lucky of a man I am. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise though… I do hate to share” he murmured, pressing a few torturous kisses to the hot skin of your inner thighs as he skimmed your panties with his fingers, “I suppose these will have to do,” Then, in a sudden movement, he was dragging them down your legs by the lace with his teeth. Once they were removed, he tossed them aside to be collected later. The way he looked at your wetness was reverent. It only made you wetter.
“What do we have here,” he muttered, letting the tip of his nose just barely brush your core, “what could possibly be making you this wet, my darling?”
His taunting was, surprisingly, less severe than usual. On any normal day, it would have taken a good 10 minutes for him to be anywhere near your heat, but you could tell he was obliging your whims as a treat. It was a special occasion, after all.
“You,” you groaned lowly as his breath ghosted over your pussy.
“That’s right, my dear heart, me,”
In an instant James had buried himself in your lower lips, suckling your clit with vigor as your hips bucked to meet him. For once, he let you chase your pleasure with reckless abandon. It had been months since your last proper orgasm, so you were extra sensitive as he licked long stripes up your slit. Soon enough you were keening as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.
“James- James, please!” you shouted as he finally worked a finger into your tight, wet hole, his tongue lazily circling your clit as he gazed into your eyes across the planes of your body.
He pulled off momentarily, making you groan. “Please what, dearest?”
“I wanna cum! Please- OH!”
His lips were back on your clit instantly, his eyes smiling as he pumped in and out of you with his fingers and sucked with reckless abandon. Every muscle in your body felt poised for action, your hands gripping James’ hair at the roots with enough force that you were surprised it was still attached to his head. You tipped over the edge into pleasure the second he curled his fingers upwards, roughly pressing into your sweet spot as he hummed, his voice vibrating against you in the most heavenly way.
Your orgasm was like a wave of pure bliss rolling over you as James pleasured you through it, milking you for everything you had. Only once you stopped convulsing did he remove his mouth. Even then, he continued to fuck you gently with his fingers. “Did that feel good, my love?” he asked, rubbing circles into your still-shaking thigh with his free hand.
“Yes, James! Your mouth is perfect,” you whimpered.
He seemed to enjoy your answer because he slowly pulled his fingers from your sensitive pussy before climbing up your body and rewarding you with a passionate kiss. You enjoyed it thoroughly but suddenly became aware that he was still fully dressed. “James,” you whined against his lips, “you’re wearing far too many clothes,”
He tasted like tobacco and absinthe as he kissed you again, guiding your hands to the buttons on his suit jacket before tugging at his cravat. “Perhaps we should remedy that, darling?”
You were quick to undo each button before ripping the jacket from his body and tossing it on the ground. His dress shirt and cravat were quick to follow. He focused on undoing his pants while you relished in his bare chest, running your hands down the firm planes of flesh. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whispered, biting down gently on his collarbone.
“No need to call me God, dearest,” he chuckled, shoving down his pants and boxers to free his leaking cock, “though I don’t oppose to it,”
He was a big man, long and thick enough that fitting all of him in was just slightly painful but more than enough to make you feel deliciously full. You drooled as you reached between your torsos to stroke him, but surprisingly James caught your wrist before you could touch him.
“I appreciate you taking my pleasure into consideration, my love, but I won’t last long as it is,” he crooned, holding your wrist to the bed with one hand as he lined himself up against your dripping heat with the other. He ran the head of his cock against your folds a few times, gathering up your wetness in the hopes that it would ease the stretch when he finally pushed in. To you, though, it was just torture, and how James did love to torture his victims.
“Please, fuck me, Mr. March,” you groaned, “I need you! It’s been so long,”
“Such a good little minx,” his voice rolled low as he smiled down at you, “using your words just like I taught you. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” Then, as he locked his hungry eyes with yours, he pushed fully into your heat.
You cried out in ecstasy the second he filled you up, your head lolling back against the headboard as he rocked in and out, letting you ride out the initial pain as he warmed you up for the main event. It wasn’t long before the sting was gone. It was replaced with a dull ache, but that was mostly overshadowed by a sweet, building fire spreading through your abdomen again as James pounded into you with reckless abandon.
Every muscle in your body felt weak, loose and slack as your husband found that spot inside you. Each thrust was a shock through your overstimulated body. It was like you were toeing the line between pain and pleasure, always an instant from falling fully into one or the other. When James picked up his speed once again, you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.
“Mr. March!” you wailed, body jolting as he released your wrist and instead used his hand to steady your thigh and hold you wide open, “ Mr. March! Oh god, please let me cum!”
Surprisingly, despite the fact that he was dead, James seemed almost as breathless as you while he purred into your ear. “Close your eyes, Y/N. Let the pleasure take you. Cum for me, Mrs. March,”
With one last sharp stroke from James, you wailed and let your orgasm overtake you. This time, though, it wasn’t a wave. Instead, it hit you directly like a ton of bricks. The feeling was heady, a high derived from the shockwaves of pleasure mixing with the sweet pain James always provided when he lost control. Distantly, you could feel your thighs covered in your wet essence as your husband gripped them and drove himself into you ceaselessly, quickly reaching his own climax.
Maybe it was that you hadn’t been satisfied so thoroughly since before you were sick, but you felt absolutely exhausted as the last remains of your release drained from your body. Perhaps you had gone too far with the enthusiasm after being on bed rest for so long… Something deep inside you felt whole, like a piece of you that had been missing all your life had finally slotted into place. You fell into a dreamless sleep as that satisfaction resonated through your thoroughly fucked-out body.
When you woke, you almost felt disconnected from time. It was like waking up from an unexpected nap that went on longer than you had intended it to. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the familiar ache in your lungs and muscles that had been your constant companion was gone, replaced with a cool, tingling numbness. You chuckled a bit to yourself. Had sex been the answer to your problems all along?
Slowly, you rolled onto your side, stretching out your arms and legs before curling up in the sheets. Five more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Unfortunately, your plans for rest were foiled as you felt the bed dip beside you.
“How do you feel, my darling?” James asked. His voice was soft. If you didn’t know him better you would have thought he sounded frightened.
You smiled, letting your eyes flutter open as you took in his face. “Surprisingly, I feel great. I don’t think I’ve felt this good for a long time,”
James smiled back at you, his brown eyes glimmering with some distant emotion. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re starting the road to recovery,”
There was something strange about your husband, you noticed as you sat up, looking around. You definitely weren’t in your own bedroom anymore. Instead, you were tucked nicely into a four-poster bed with soft, red sheets, surrounded by dark wood and art deco accents. Distantly, you touched your chest and registered that you were wearing one of James’ shirts.
“You brought me to your room?” You propped yourself up on his headboard as you took in your new surroundings, watching the golden evening sun filter in through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains.
“Our room, my sweetling,” James corrected.
You hummed thoughtfully. “I like it. I know I’ve technically been here, with Devil’s Night and our little trysts and all, but I’ve never slept in your bed before. It’s soft… nice,”
He offered you a tinny false smile, his hands fidgeting nervously with the edge of the bedspread. “I’m glad you think so, dearest. What’s mine is now yours,”
Distantly, you smelled the faintest traces of the antiseptic soap James used to rid himself of blood. You raised an eyebrow. “How long was I out?”
“Just a few hours. I took the liberty of calling Mrs. Evers to turn down your sheets while you rested,”
“You had time for a kill in just a few hours?”
“Y/N, I-”
As he spoke, you reached out to touch his fidgeting hand only to yank your fingers back to your chest. No… this was wrong.
“Y/N, please, stay calm-”
“Why are you warm?” You asked, breathing heavily, “James? Why are you warm?”
James steadied himself with a deep breath before reaching over to rub gentle circles into your thigh above the blanket.
“I… I may have taken the liberties of… Y/N, please understand that I only did what I must. You were wasting away! And a promise is a promise…. What I’m trying to say is-”
“You killed me?”
“Precisely,”
Your husband bit down on his lip, averting his gaze in the hopes of avoiding your wrath. To his surprise, though, you threw yourself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses as you laughed joyously. You were free! Free from pain and sorrow and th e endless trappings of mortality. And James was the one to free you.
“You brilliant man!” you shouted, excited giggles escaping from your lips as you squeezed his frozen body to your own, “I didn’t even notice! Oh my god, and on our wedding night too? That’s so romantic! How did you do it? Did I have a heart attack and die from the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my whole damn life? Well… existence. I’m not quite alive anymore, am I? What did you use? Did you send me down the body chute?”
As you babbled, James slowly began to function again. You truly were his perfect match. “I slit your femoral artery just as all your muscles began to contract,” he explained, reaching up a hand to cup your cheek, “and I came to my own climax as you showered me in your blood. You didn’t feel a thing,”
You happily settled yourself against James’ chest. “You’re right. If anything, it felt kinda good…” you paused, “What about my body?”
He grinned. “You’re dead now, darling, we can revisit killing you during your little deaths at any time you like. As for your body, I didn’t put you down the chute. I cleaned you up, retrieved your ring, and took you to your casket. It’ll be bricked up in a wall within the week,”
“Aw, James, you had a casket ready for me and everything!”
“I commissioned it the day we first met. After we slept together and I led you to your suite, I went right to Liz and had her make an order. I spared no expense. Dark wood, red velvet lining…”
“Mmm,” you hummed, “It’s a shame we’ll never get to christen it… unless…”
“Darling, you cannot truly be thinking what I presume you are thinking,”
You giggled, pushing James flat onto the bed. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go fuck over my dead body?”
James Patrick March had never gotten hard quicker in all his 126 years of existence.
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a/n: Welp! That’s the first smut I have ever written in my entire life. I hope it wasn’t terrible! This oneshot was great practice for a future instillation of Till Forever Falls Apart, so look forward to that lol. Let me know if you liked this and what types of oneshots you’d like to see next! Also, I love comments, so feel free to comment if you feel so inclined.
Please do not upload my works to other sites, thank you!
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Text
Sex Tape
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Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader
Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother 
Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut
Word Count: 1800
A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!
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Shit. 
You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked! 
The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair. 
The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.” 
“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped. 
“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.” 
He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.” 
“And?” 
“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls. 
You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life. 
You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at. 
“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically. 
“What?” He asked, confused.
“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 
“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?” 
“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that. 
“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond. 
While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling. 
“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything. 
Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!” 
“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too. 
Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people. 
The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent. 
“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted. 
You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books. 
His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.” 
You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear. 
Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?” 
You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.” 
Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?” 
“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.” 
His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs. 
When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.” 
The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose. 
Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.” 
Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.” 
“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.
You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.” 
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