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thelovelyruin · 7 months

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𝖇𝖇.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓: a pretty girl with a fast car, and choso just can’t get enough.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.2k

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from bb by shygirl.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! racer choso is back by popular demand, i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I like bad boys, and I know they love me.

When Choso first saw you, you leaned against a GT-R, talking to a guy next to you, another girl in the passenger seat. God, you were sexy. You wore a black patent leather dress and red heels to match. You had your hair up in one of those claw clips and wore a pair of red shades, a gloss covering your lips as you smoked your cigarette. Your legs were on full display, a couple of tattoos here and there, and the chain that adorned your ankle didn’t go unnoticed either. He hadn’t seen you around before, but he was sure he would’ve noticed you out of all the girls who came out and took photos with the cars or stringing with their boyfriends. You were far too relaxed talking to the guy next to you, definitely not the behavior of someone whom you’d just met, so he figured he was your boyfriend. Unfortunately for him, Choso didn’t fucking care.

They say I've got a type; I just think they're lonely.

He walked up to the guy to start a conversation, shaking his hand, intending to use it to talk to you. He had to be respectful before he stole his girl, right?

“Hey, Choso.”

“Yuuji, what’s up.”

“Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“You’d be right, came out to support a friend.”

Choso pointed past him to the car; damn, she was a beauty. Looked full bolt-on, sitting on bags with a badass body kit, but the cherry red wrap really drew him in, presumably your suggestion to Yuuji.

“Fuckin’ nice, dude, what’s it running on?”

“E85.”

You walked around the car, interrupting their conversation. You leaned on the hood as you looked at Choso, him taking a surprised look at you and then back at Yuuji, who was currently chuckling.

“Sounds like she knows her stuff, huh.”

“‘Cause it’s hers.”

You smile at him and wave, bringing your cigarette up to take a puff again. Choso was in shock, smirking at the little joke both of you were trying to pull.

“Yeah, no way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means a pretty girl like you isn’t whippin' a ride like this.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? Give me the least sexist reason you have.”

Choso wiped down his face in disbelief.

“Now, fuck off while I still think you're cute.”

Choso gave a look to Yuuji, who gave one back that said oh well, dude. Choso didn’t have a lot of flaws, but there was one that was pretty damn big- his fuckin’ ego.

It's cold on these streets, or so they tell me.

“So race me, princess.”

“Whatcha drivin’?”

“Twin turbo MK5 Supra.”

You started laughing at him, taking your shades off to get a good look at him.

“At least make it worth my while!”

“Really? Then why not? You sound pretty fuckin’ confident.”

You get up from the hood now, throwing your cigarette on the ground and stepping on it as you give him a straight look. A Supra was nothing to sneer at, especially with twin-turbo, but it had nothing on your GT-R runnin’ 1800 HP.

“Because I know I’d fuckin’ win. I’d hate to beat you in front of everyone, considering I’m new here.”

“If you’re so sure, let me see you do it.”

You brought your lips up to his ear, grabbing his shirt as you raised to his height.

“If you insist, dollface.”

I keep the conversations brief; we ain't friends, but he'll see.

Your friend got out of the car as you told her what was about to happen. She chuckled and walked with you to a big group of people huddling in the middle of the lot, taking bets. She got their attention, and they looked at her with unserious faces.

“This fucker wants to race my friend. Start a pot.”

The guys got a good look at you and Choso, obviously not taking you seriously, which led to a $15K pot, $3K from Yuuji and Mai on you, and the other $12K on Choso. Yuuji drove your car to where you’d start on the line, Choso driving his. You two looked at each other as you let down your hair, passing the clip and jacket to Yuuji.

“Ready?”

“Are you? Might wanna lose the heels, princess.”

“No need.”

You two got into your respective vehicles, Mai standing between them to raise her hand as you revved your engines. Then, you were off.

Different faces but the road stays the same.

He fuckin’ lost.

You got out of your car with a smirk, putting your jacket back on as the group of guys from before praised you, practically kissing your feet, and just like that, you were $5K richer. Choso walked up to you as you headed back to the lot, walking alone as Yuuji and Mai gathered your prize money. He began clapping, causing you to turn around and smirk.

“Good job, you beat me.”

“Told ya so.”

You leaned against the car now, presumably reaching to pull out another cigarette as Choso put his arm up on the door next to you.

“You're pretty fuckin’ cocky, ya know that?”

“Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, sweetheart?”

Every man's a drilla till he's in the bed calling my name.

Choso slammed his lips against yours, putting his other arm on the car, caging you in. You returned the kiss, bringing a leg up to his hip, which he accepted, standing between them and massaging the skin there. The feeling of his hand gripping your ass sparked something inside, slipping your tongue in his mouth as his other hand found the back of your neck. Your dress was pretty damn short; anyone walking by would’ve gotten quite the view. He slipped a hand up your chest, groping your tits as you moaned, lips moving to your neck.

You can run and hide; I’m running game.

You brought your hand down his hips, pulling his phone out of the front pocket. With a little push, he stumbles back as you put his phone up to his face, unlocking it. You typed something, handing it to him as you brought your face up to kiss his cheek. With that, you turned and walked, laughing as you left Choso flustered, trying to understand what happened. He looks at his phone, your number staring back at him.

“In case your itchin’ for a rematch.”

Only one winner in this bitch, and I win everything.

Coulda been fucking with a guy; my vibe.

When Choso initially texted you, it was because he did want a rematch. But he also wanted to finish what you guys started the other day. You’d been on his mind as he was working on his car, working out, even when he was, you know. And fuck, you were hot. Constantly posting pics of yourself on cars, often with little clothing, you’d made a career out of modeling. Sometimes Mai was in them with you, you guys being pretty involved with the community. So, why hadn’t he seen you before? It was itching him; the car meets were city-wide, so you had to have come from somewhere else. I guess that answer would come as he got to know you.

“Plans later?”

“Depends, whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess so. Time?”

“5.”

“See ya then.”

“You got it, princess.”

He hung up the phone, grateful. He’d been nervous that you only saw him as the asshole you beat, but luckily, you liked him enough to let him take you out, and kiss you, and grope your tits. Fuck, he was getting hard.

You picked out your earrings as he pulled up; that backfire could be heard from a mile away. You wore a leather top and skirt today (if you could even call it that) and a pair of knee-high boots. As you walked up to him, you smiled and bit your lip, looking into his eyes as you crossed your legs. He had to clear his throat after gazing at your figure, too focused on the hem of your skirt to think appropriate thoughts.

“Hey, princess.”

“Hey there.”

“You look pretty damn good.”

“When do I not?”

Fuck, you were on your cocky shit again. Choso opened the door for you, helping you into his low seat. As he got into the car, he got an eyeful of you, not even caring if you noticed. Which you did, bringing his chin towards you until your lips nearly touched his.

“Hungry much?”

“I am, actually.”

“So, you’re taking me for dinner?”

“You got it, angel.”

He smiled as he sat back, bringing his hand down to your thigh. Now you were pretty hot, but it wasn’t until you shifted gears for him that he was tempted to fuck you in his back seat; he was continuously arguing with his dick to calm down. You guys pulled up to a hotel, parking in the garage, too scared to let the valet drive his car. He guided you through the lobby and to the elevators and met with an attendant who requested your reservation. With a flash of Choso’s screen, she called the elevator, inputting a code and pressing the “RT” button.

“You two have fun!”

With that, you guys were brought up to the 30th floor. Getting off, Choso spoke something to the hostess standing outside the doors. When you guys pulled up to the hotel, you weren’t expecting to see the open restaurant atop it. Directed to a table on the overlook, the hostess thanked you both and called your waiter. Now, this was fuckin nice. The restaurant had ambient lighting, a fire pit in the middle of the rows of tables, and a view of the city below. You looked over at Choso, who was looking back and forth between you and the overlook.

“Nice rez.”

He perked up at your comment, getting the validation he wanted from you. He hated that you’d made him like this, eating up all the attention you gave him. The loss was enough to humble him, but the comments on your photos were not for the weak. And weak he was, for you, of course.

“Thanks. Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Well, depends. What’re we doing after this?”

Choso looked you up and down, eyes lingering on your legs as he licked his lips.

“Anything you want, angel.”

You blushed a bit, averting your attention to the waiter who had walked up to the table.

“Cosmopolitan, please.”

Picked one who was pretty; you know I like a pretty guy.

After a few drinks and a nice dinner, his gaze fell back to you, looking over the restaurant's railing. You were so fuckin' pretty. Cheeks flustered from the alcohol, your usual stuck-up demeanor a bit more relaxed, just like your lips fixed slightly open, almost in a pout.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“It was pretty good, thanks.”

You crossed your legs, smirking as you looked into his eyes.

“So, what’s your endgame here?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, you’ve taken me out, been textin’ me almost every day for the past two weeks, pretty much-”

“I want you, real bad.”

He’d leaned into the table now, hand caressing your thigh underneath it.

“Is that so?”

His hand began sliding up your leg, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt.

“Want you to be my girl, that is, if you want to.”

His hand began to go beyond your skirt, fondling with the strap of your thong. Suddenly, the waiter returned, handing Choso his card back and thanking him for the visit. When he turned back to you, you were already standing, reaching out for his hand so he could lead you two back to the car.

“I’ll think about it.”

God, I don't give a fuck, but I guess I always do.

As you walked through the lobby, you got a text from Yuuji in the group chat.

"Some dude’s talkin' shit. Says you got lucky the other day with Choso, hadn't raced against a real ride."

"A real ride? What's that fucker driving?"

"He has a few builds. Don't know what he'll pop out with."

Mai opened up the messages, responding to the two of you.

"Okay, if he wants it, he can get it. What time?"

"9."

You checked the time: 8:23. Choso had stopped, seeing the look of irritation on your face.

"What's wrong?"

You showed him the chat, obviously irritated.

"No problem, we can swing back to yours and head over."

"There's not enough time for that. I'll have Yuuji and Mai meet us there with my car."

With that, you both walked to Choso’s car. He’d had a few drinks, so he was feeling pretty good. And by pretty good, he was fingering you on the way to the meet. A thirty-minute drive = 25 minutes to play with your pussy, and he was more than happy to take that option. The only issue was you were concentrating on changing the gears, putting your lives before your pleasure, but you weren’t gonna lie; it was a hard decision. A little tipsy, you were feeling loose, legs wide open to him so he could touch you, alternating between fucking you with his fingers and rubbing your clit. You were loud, too, moaning his name as his pinky held the fabric of your panties to the side so he could fuck you properly. He was in love with you, at least with how you rubbed your hips into his fingers, begging to cum. Unfortunately, that came to an end pretty quickly, getting yourself together as Choso pulled over. He wanted you to get a chance to cool off, kissing you as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt back down.

As you pulled up, people recognized Choso’s car; that deep purple wrap was his staple. They didn’t expect to see you stepping out of it, recognizing you as the girl who beat him two weeks ago, taking a smoke before shit went down. You looked around the lot; you saw Yuuji and Mai hadn’t quite arrived, reaching down to shoot a text to-

“So, you made it, bitch.”

This asshole walked up to you as you sat on Choso’s hood, his arm unwrapping around your waist as he stood before the guy. Now, while it was admirable that Choso was ready to fight for you, you had to fight your own battles, and if this fucker wanted one, he was gonna get it. You pulled Choso’s arm back, walking up to the guy yourself. This guy was taller than you, not as tall as Choso, but you still had to look up at him as you spoke.

“You said a real ride, huh? What would that be?”

“Porsche 911 Turbo S.”

You smirked at the guy, laughing in his face as he looked at you, pissed off.

“Don’t make me fucking laugh! No, really, you should be a comedian! That damn twin turbo isn’t gonna take you far, sweetheart. That and your horsepower is just as short as your cock.”

The guy got closer to you, grabbing your wrist, making Choso almost fuckin’ pounce on the guy, but you raised your hand to keep him back.

“You talk a lot of shit, girl. Heard you came from the tri-state; whatcha doin’ down here? Tired of losing?”

“The opposite actually, got bored winning against all those dicks back home, so I moved out here for a challenge, which obviously, I’m not gonna get. Now, get your sweaty hand off me before I ash my Marlboro on your arm.”

He retracted his arm, face twisted.

“So, where’s your car bitch?”

“On its way, what, getting hard in anticipation? She is pretty damn sexy.”

“What, did you come here to talk shit?”

“Far from it, slow your brakes, and maybe I’ll let you cum. She’ll be here shortly.”

“Gotta wait to clap your sad excuse of a GT-R. Bet you’re shit with anything else; you pick one of the easiest imports to call your baby.”

Choso had had enough of this shit. He walked up to you and put his car keys in your hands, looking up at the guy with a look that said he was ten seconds away from getting his ass beat.

“Then race her in my car, unless you’re just a yappy bitch.”

If it isn't wrong, then I'm not looking out for you.

You both went to the starting line, Choso driving it up and doing the road test. As two guys from the group prepped your lanes, you looked at Choso in concern as he leaned against the car.

“Ready, princess?”

“What if somethin’ happens, I don’t wanna fuck up your car.”

“Trust me, if somethin’ happens, the last thing I’m thinkin' about is this car.”

“So, be my passenger.”

“That means you really can’t fuck up my car.”

You smiled at him and jabbed his shoulder, pulling him in for a kiss. You two walked over to it, hopping in and getting strapped up. He brought a hand over to rest on your thigh, moving it soon after so you could move the gear shift. As a guy walked between the cars to flag, Choso took a good look at you. You looked the most serious he’d ever seen you, eyes forward as you patiently waited for the flag to come up. It was hard for him not to look at your skirt, riding up from how you sat in the seat, panties probably sitting on the-

Choso hadn’t even realized the flagger signaled the takeoff. You reached 100 in 3.5 seconds, pushing him back in the seat as you shifted gears to accommodate the rapid change. From the passenger mirror, he could see the Porsche falling behind, obviously not matching the launch of Choso’s car. As you passed the finish signal, you began to slow down, Porsche catching up. You come to a complete stop now, starting to back up to the starting line. You looked good, hair messy and face flustered, eyes blown from how intense you had to concentrate and the adrenaline pumping through you. Probably the vodka, too.

You hopped out of the car, waiting for the asshole to pull back in, smirking at his loss. He got out of it, even angrier than before, cursing out the flaggers and accusing them of fucking with the signal. Right on time, Mai and Yuuji pulled up in your car, handing you the keys.

“We miss something?”

This time, Mai had replaced Choso as passenger princess, buckling herself in as they warmed the tires. The asshole flipped you off as he returned to his Porsche, obviously holding a grudge. Probably because there was a $40K pot now, and $30K of it was on you. This didn’t take very long at all. The second the flaggers cleared you, you were gone, but this time, his Porsche was neck and neck with yours. As you pulled back, guys were already arguing about the win. Everyone was in outrage; most people were pissed off and claimed loss on a $40K pot. With that, they agreed to review the footage in slo-mo, getting back to everyone as soon as they determined the winner. The cocky asshole smirked, saying things like, ‘We know I won,’ and ‘Tell that bitch she lost.’ You rolled your eyes and lit your cigarette, not like there was anything you could do but wait for the results. Yuuji and Mai said bye as they drove off in Yuuji’s 340i, leaving you and Choso at your car.

“You did good, princess.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you up and down, licking his lips again with half-lidded eyes.

“Let me show you how good you did.”

Only making eyes at a bad boy, one or two of the crew.

“Fuck!”

You practically couldn't get off each other after you and Choso met at your house, even forgetting to lock the front door. He didn't even bother taking you to your room; he had to get your thong off as soon as possible. And now, he was lapping you up on the couch as you pulled on his hair. Shit, he could eat pussy. Your eyes were rolling back, so blissed out you couldn't tell if it was the aftermath of three cosmos or just how good his tongue worked in and out of you. He was going wild, sucking at your clit a little harder every time you said his name, arms wrapped around your legs to pin you down and get you as close to his face as possible. You tasted so fuckin' good; happy to indulge in it now; licking you off his fingers earlier was just a tease. He licked you a little faster as your thighs began to tense on the sides of his head; he could tell you were about to cum. You groaned his name the loudest you had so far and finally let go. He was fuckin' drowning, and he loved every second of it. He was so fuckin' proud of you, not just because you came for him, but also because you beat that asshole earlier.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, give it to me.”

As you came down, you got up, walking Choso back to your room. You pulled your top overhead and lost your skirt, naked, as you pushed him back to sit on the bed. You work fast to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down, taking his boxers down with them. He helps you out by removing his shirt, not nearly fast enough for how quickly you’d gotten on top of him, straddling his hips as you moved your pussy back and forth over his shaft, begging him to fuck you. Well, how could he say no to that?

If you got an attitude, I'ma take a ride with you.

Choso lifted your hips a little, sinking you onto his dick slowly as you anchored yourself on his chest. You were moaning so fuckin’ loud, throwing your head back as you bounced up and down on his dick, finally finding the relief of his teasing all day. His hands gripped your hips, meeting your hips to thrust into you until, eventually, you started to slow down, getting tired from fucking him so fast. So, he sat up, adjusting you so you were on your knees, straddling his waist as he bounced you up and down on his dick. He groaned your name over and over in your ear, bringing a hand up to hold your back, bringing your tits into his chest before bringing his head down to suck at them, still fucking into you at a dangerous pace. He almost felt selfish for how fast he was fucking you, but you were so high on cumming earlier that you took every thrust he gave you, giving him those pretty whimpers every time he hit that special spot inside of you, but you needed him to keep hitting it, wanting to waste no time.

“Baby, make me cum again.”

“Yeah, baby? Want to cum for me again?”

You tried to say yes, but Choso was already flipping you over; he was on top of you, pushing his dick back into you, hitting that spot immediately. Fuck, he was consistent, ramming his hips into yours right there, reaching your hand up to grip his hair and bite his neck as he drilled into you. You were so fucking close, scratching your nails down his back as he took you exactly where you needed to be. You became undone on him, moaning his name into the room as you gripped his back and the sheets.

“Yeah, baby, cum for me. Fuck you feel so good…”

He fucked you through your orgasm; the spasms of your pussy, as you came, made him feel like nirvana, fucking into you deep as he chased his high. Within seconds he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper into you as you held him, spent from overstimulation.

You can run and hide; I’m running game.

Choso rolled over, falling next to you on the bed, practically gasping for air after cumming so hard. He’d wanted you for so long, and seeing you in that outfit all night had made him feral. You got up first, putting your hair up in a clip as you walked to your bathroom to clean up, and as much as he didn’t wanna see you go, the brilliant view of your ass as you walked out the bedroom door made him want you to leave. You came back and cleaned his dick off, which he thanked you for with a kiss and a slap to your ass. Getting in bed with him, he wrapped his arms around you as you rested a hand on his chest.

Suddenly, your phone lit up with a text from Mai in the group chat. You opened the message, a slo-mo recap of the race from earlier. You had passed his Porsche ever so slightly, and the organizers declared you the winner of the race. Not like you’d ever think you’d lose.

Only one winner in this bitch and I win everything.

♱ the song used in this story is bb by shygirl. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

222 notes · View notes

andyling · 1 year

Text

Okay now that I got my Tango rambling out of the way IT’S TIME FOR A BUNCH OF OTHER PEOPLE

Jimmy Solidarity (aka the man sending team rancher fans into a collective breakdown, it’s me I'm team rancher fans)

stealth mission IMMEDIATELY failed

THE FACT THAT TANGO WAS OUT OF RANGE OF THE BOMB AND THEN RAN RIGHT UNDER IT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tango congratulating Jimmy on killing him (even though it was Joel) Team Ranchers is still alive guys I swear, NO ANGST HERE IT’S FINE GUYS

Love how Joel is being attacked and Grian is nowhere to be found because he’s too busy hunting down Impulse

jimmy shouting tango’s name and literally jumping towards him as he places tnt counts as a rancher moment

either he’s stupid or he was confident tango wouldn’t blow him up, it’s probably the former but hey I choose how I interpret this chaos

JIMMY WAS SO CLOSE TO DYING HOLY SHIT

JIMMY’S FUCKING FACE WHEN MARTYN STARTED ATTACKING ETHO

mans was literally just :O

“what I'm realizing right is that everyone is thirsty” did ya have to phrase it like that??? I can hear the out of context compilations clipping this

Jimmy sounding so shocked that Tango was fighting Martyn as if he didn’t just spend several minutes fending him off from killing Joel

oh uh, the flower husbands are fighting

SCOTT THROWING TANGO UNDER THE BUS BRUUUUUUUH

damn flower husbands enjoyers must be in absolute misery

anyways WOO JIMMY DIDN’T GO AFTER TANGO, GUYS THE RANCHERS ARE FINE WE DON’T NEED TO MAKE ANGST FROM THIS

JIMMY AND MARTYN FIGHTING TO KILL SCOTT AJFSJAKFHDSHJGK

love how Jimmy is not even trying to find Tango he’s just there watching this chaos unfold

“guys he’s not gonna respond” Jimmy you underestimate how dumb your rancher is, there is a reason I call both of you wet cats

WHY IS THERE REDSTONE BLOOD EVERYONE?????

JOEL JUST WENT SPLAT

the way jimmy hunches over closer to his mic when he’s whispering is so funny, he’s trying to hide irl

ah yes, “the bad boys bread bridge bakery in the sky” my beloved

hey now Jimmy has been trying to protect Joel for half the session don’t kick him out, I mean he failed but at least he was trying

ending the session with robbery, how wonderful

Grain

“looking tasty” aaaaand that’ going into the out of context compilation

JOEL SOUNDS SO DISTRAUGHT THAT HE KILLED CLEO

Grian seems to be extra manic this episode, I'm blaming that on the fact that he missed a session

the entire “definitely” bit is so stupid but I find it so funny

GRIAN WAS TRYING SO HARD TO GET IMPULSE AND ENDED UP DYING INSTEAD AJFHSAJFHDSSFKJSDGF

“normally this is last episode behavior” I mean last session was last episode behavior too I think this season has just made everyone crazy

DUDE GRIAN WAS SO SURE THAT TNT MINECART FAILED AND THEN HE GOT A TRIPLE KILL

HE ALMOST KNOCKED HIMSELF OFF THE PLATFORM IN HIS SHOCK

oh my god the yellow hoard is even funnier from their perspective

the pufferfish plays are insane goddamn

THE TANGO CHASE IS EVEN FUNNIER FROM GRIAN’S POV OH MY GOD SERIOUSLY HOW DID THEY NOT CATCH HIM

THEY JUST KEEP CALLING HIM AND HE RESPONDS FROM WHO KNOWS WHERE IN THE FUNNIEST VOICE

“How about we just kill him for fun now?” SCAR NO

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S A WARDEN NEARBY HELLO?!??!?!

tango just has a 6th sense for wardens now

awwwwww grian’s sharing in order to help skizz (pity totem is still totem)

someone is gonna trap those ender-porters I just know it

THAT WAS SUCH A WASTE OF A TOTEM

MARTYN INTHELITTLEWOOD EVERYBODY

the mean gills chatting on their little island resort really contrasts how badly the rest of this session is gonna go

WELL DAMN SCOTT SMAJOR

THE FACT THAT MARTYN SAW THE TNT MINECART AND FUCKING BOOKED IT THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION HE WAS SO CLOSE TO DYING

Bdubs running to Etho for protection is hilarious in every POV

the bread bois and team ties have a fast travel to each other . . . we’ll see how that works out (please become allies please please please)

LOVE HOW MARTYN ACKNOWLEDGES THE OUT OF CONTEXT VIDEOS NOW AFJKHSAJKGHDKSGKH

MARTYN ON HIS PSYCHO ARC OH MY FUCKING GOD

MARTYN’S DECISION TO TURN ON ETHO WAS SO QUICK AND IT’S SO OBVIOUS HERE HE JUST LOOPED AROUND AND STABBED HIM

Martyn didn’t even realize Tango was still trying to kill him lmao

THE PUFFERFISH DIED IN THE EXPLOSION OH NO

poor scar stood in the wrong place at the wrong time

Etho trying desperately to get people to leave Tango and Impulse alone

MARTYN WAS SO FAR AWAY HOW DID THAT TNT MINECART KILL HIM HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THE RANGE ON THOSE THINGS?!?!?!

god Martyn is just having an awful time trying to stay alive this session

DUDE THE SCRAMBLE TO SEE WHO WOULD KILL SCOTT FIRST IS WAY MORE INTENSE FROM MARTYN’S POV FUCKING HELL

bruh Martyn really teasing us all with actual lore

So uh, yeah that session was bonkers SEE Y’ALL NEXT WEEK

103 notes · View notes

aerodaltonimperial · 8 months

Note

Secretly Friends AU?

"Nobody will find you here."

"I've been suspended, I'm not a fugitive."

(I am having some EMOTIONS tonight fam. You didn't specify a friend... so....)

When he opens the back door, the one that's wedged into the very corner of the basement, barely used and probably equipped with at least three deadbolts, Orange looks tired. He always looks tired, nowadays, but it's more pronounced now, lines around his eyes and a smile that never quite reaches all the way.

He offers Jack a quick nod, a jerk of his head; Orange doesn't do much with that kind of speed, so Jack takes it without question. He trusts Orange. It's an odd thing, trusting someone he hasn't met, but there it is. A surprise, maybe. Jack's been surprised by a lot recently.

"C'mon," Orange says, and Jack follows obediently at his heels, checking over his shoulder a few times to ensure that the deserted hallway stays deserted.

It does.

Eventually, they come to one of the locker rooms. Jack wonders if Orange requested one this close to the unused hallways, or if he just got lucky. It might be a little bit of both. Orange opens the door and ushers Jack inside, where the lights are low. A few bags lay open on the benches, and Jack doesn't look at them. He can't fall apart yet. Being backstage again is... it's a lot, honestly. It's an overwhelm and the bitter tang of nostalgia all rolled together, a heady sort of want. He's desperate to get back to this: to the smell of the leather, the feel of the ropes against his palms, the swell of the crowd.

"No one will find you here."

Jack snorts a little. "I've been suspended. I'm not a fugitive." But then he falls quiet. The locker room is empty, save for them. He doesn't want to ask, but can't quite stop himself. "Getting ready?"

Orange nods. Jack swallows down the rest—it won't do any good. He's close, now. He's so close, and all he has to do is wait. But waiting has never been his strong suit.

"Be careful out there," he says, and Orange gives him a lazy salute before leaving. Jack is alone now. There aren't televisions back here, so he can't see, but he flips his phone screen on and opens Twitter. At least he can mostly gauge what's happening based on what's showing up in the hashtag, even though the video clips are much slower to load. He waits. He breathes. It's been 25 days.

Finally, voices sound from outside the door. The hallway does an excellent job of amplifying them beneath the metal beams. Jack's heart leaps to his throat. He stops breathing.

"—awesome. That last move was solid."

Jack's lungs constrict.

"Was it?" That's Kris. They won; Jack knows that from his feed. She's out of breath, though, just a little, so it was a physical match. "Honestly, we should do it again."

"Hey." Orange. They're right outside the door now—Jack can hear someone's hand hit the metal of the knob. "I got you a present."

"Me?" There's surprise there. Jack's legs have turned to ice. He can't move. Can't twitch. And then the door opens, Orange's arm swinging out with it, and—

Hook's face, going from braced to surprised to—

He crosses the room in less time than Jack takes to get up to his feet. He's still wobbling a little bit when Hook throws his arms around Jack's shoulders, buries his face in Jack's neck. He smells like that stupid fucking body wash he still insists on using, the one that is always way too strong but oddly comforting. Jack has to blink back tears, because fuck.

"Oh my god," Hook exhales. "Oh my god."

"Hi," Jack says, weak, just like his knees have gone in relief. Hook has been a constant thread in his messages ever since Jack took the earlier flight out of London, but it's never been enough. Jack missed him so much he fucking ached with it.

Hook laughs. His grip around Jack's shoulders tightens. "Holy shit. Holy shit. You're here."

"I'm here." Jack closes his eyes, grabs ahold of Hook's shoulders, still slicked with sweat from the match.

"I miss you so god damn much," Hook says.

Fuck. Don't cry. The past few months have already been murder, playing such a horrible part, going against each other, but this—this has been the worst of all. Not even being able to sneak into each other's hotel rooms to watch shitty re-runs together while they eat their way through the vending machine. "I miss you, too," Jack whispers.

When Hook pulls away, his face has split with a beaming smile. He grabs Jack's face in both hands. At some point, Kris shut the locker room door, and Jack's fiercely grateful for her. For her and Orange. For arranging this. For knowing. They're both standing near the lockers, toweling down and grinning, looking at them every so often.

"It's not even that much longer," Hook starts.

"Fuck off," Jack replies. "It's been a god damn lifetime, and you know it."

Hook laughs. Laughs. Jack can't remember the last time he got to hear that in person. "You're not lying. Jesus. Don't ever get assaulted again, you hear me?"

It might not have been so bad if they already hadn't had to be on opposite sides, if they hadn't already spun the most tangled, heart-wrenching web. Maybe it wouldn't have been that hard to get through 30 days if they hadn't already been sneaking around just to stay friends, if their whole damn support system hadn't been flipped over to the shadow zone. Fuck, Jack misses being able to just roam the arena cities with Hook, taking stupid photos and posing like tourists and finding the weirdest possible places to explore.

Jack lost everything last year. He lost everything, and then he gained everything and more back, and the summer combined with the past month has been too much. He's been trying not to crawl out of his skin for weeks now. With Hook here, gripping Jack's face tightly enough to bruise, Jack's settled. Things are finally okay again.

Jack just wraps his hands around Hook's biceps. "You need a fucking shower, cause you stink."

"You're such an asshole." Hook is still smiling. "Man, I missed you."

"Go use your ridiculously expensive body wash," Jack says.

"We know a place way off the beaten path," Orange offers from the bench. Then he shrugs; classic Orange. "Could all go. If you wanted."

"Yeah." Jack's limbs are buzzing with happiness. He so badly wants to get out of the cage he's been tossed into. He grins at Hook, and Hook grins right back. "Yeah, let's go."

#tag so you don't lose this shit #i have made myself emotional #no one touch me

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impyssadobsessions · 2 years

Text

Raising Phantom CHpt 5

Here is is on Ao3

Jason made his way up the front stairs to the library. This was only his third time this week. He swore he stop, there was nothing strange about the two, but Danny had asked him for recommendations, and he be damned to delay a kid from reading. He pushed open the library door, praying Babs wasn't at the counter and just Jasmine. “If your looking for them, they're not here.” Babs yawned as soon as she seen Jason's head pop through the door. “I wasn't-” “Mmhm. Danny's been excited about the next story, he already began reading it.” Babs smiled up at Jason. “It was a good story.” Jason tried to play it off, but now knowing they were missing bothered him.

The door chimed, “Hey Babs! Guess who I finally convinced to come over~!” Dick had Damian, who was just off of school in tow. “...I was promised we were going for vegan ice cream.” “Ice cream? Your price is getting low.” Jason snickered. Damian glared. “Well, I'm afraid they're not here. Apparently their uncle made a surprised early visit, and whisked them away.” Barbara said as she fixed her glasses. “Their rich uncle?” Dick asked. “Yep. Vlad Masters.” “That stuck up fucker?!” “The one obsessed with the Packers?!” Dick and Jason exclaimed. They both had annoying bouts with the man, the times he visited Gotham. Dick cringing at his memories of having to listen to the man brag on and on about a football team. Trying to suck up or talk to anyone that dare listen. Dick unfortunately chose to stay at the food table when he got caught by the man. Dick didn't even care about football! Told him so, but he just kept going! Now he knew an ungodly amount of facts about the Packers. Jason remembered how entitled and pompous the jerk was, he definitely looked down on him and Bruce. Talking about how Jason was just a charity case to keep good appearances. Though Jason didn't have as good of an opinion about Bruce anymore, the way the man had said it then still boiled his blood. And Danny and Jazz were with him?! “I despised that man.” Damian glared, “I do not wish to associate with anyone that's related to that man.” “Not related. He was their god father, helped them out in a bad situation.” Barbara explained, “Yeah. I know. Shocking.” The look on their faces gave away their disbelief. Dick shook out of it first and asked. “Wait, why did he pick them up?”

“Apparently Vlad's been wanting to show them off at the upcoming gala for some time now. Jazz said she delayed it this long, its the least they could do. He took them shopping for proper attire. Both Jazz and Danny didn't look too please when he came waltzing in. He barely gave an hour notice. “ The two oldest brothers blinked, trying to absorb the information. “I'll be waiting in the car, Richard.” Damian walked back out. --owo-- Danny grumbled and fussed with the suit he was forced to try on. Curse Vlad. He tossed the tie at the offending man, huffing. “Why can't I have a clip on?! Or none at all. Like who even needs to wear ties anymore? Your rich, aren't you? Who the heck going to talk down on you for not wearing one?!” Vlad pulled the tie off his face, taking a deep breath. Danny was trying his patience today. “Daniel-” “Its legally Danny.” Danny reminded. “Right. Danny.” He stressed Danny's name. “I will not have my son-” “Grandson. Don't make people think weird things.” Not that Danny even wanted to take claim to that, but its better then people thinking Jazz had a one off with their father's college friend. “-My GRANDson at Wayne's gala without looking perfect! Bruce Wayne and his infuriating orphanage rejects he adopted plus the terrifying child that supposedly came from his sack. If you asked me, he just adopted another one and lied, there is no way that child is his.” Vlad fumed. Danny crossed his arms, as he glared at Vlad just going off about Bruce Wayne. Danny was only half paying attention. “uh-huh. Yeah yeah. Bruce Wayne this and that. Playboy that doesn't deserve his wealth. Yada yada. This is all because he refused to do business with you, isn't it?” “That man is a fool!” “Considering how you earned your wealth, it seems like the opposite.” Danny muttered. Vlad scoffed, “That playboy couldn't see a perfectly reasonable beneficial deal if it whacked him in the face. Its a miracle, Wayne industries is running as it is.” Danny doubted that, glancing over at the employee with red eyes. Vlad had possessed the man with one of his duplicates so they could have privacy and so Vlad could be in charge of picking out their clothes. He didn't want anyone to assist or add their two cents on it. “Besides Mr. Wayne being there, there will be investors swarming the place. All happily talking about their company or their kids, and I like to be able to show how dapper you are.” “Dapper? Don't tell me you're going to gel my hair too? That stuff is gross.” Danny frowned as Vlad knelt down to try and put on Danny's tie. Danny not making anymore fuss, staring at the tie to see how Vlad did it. “No no, that will not suit your scruffy charm. Though it is tempting, I doubt it'll stay down, knowing you. Little Badger.” Vlad ruffling Danny's head as he stood back up. “You always had a knack for bouncing back and your hair embodies that.” Danny frowning as he glared down at the red bow tie. He actually liked the color red, but he had a sneaking suspicion this outfit looked identical to Vlad's. Glancing at the mirror. No. It was confirmed. At least his hair wasn't long enough to wear a stupid ponytail like him. “Plus it helps hide those angry eyes of yours.” Vlad teased, “After all, you're still not very good at hiding your emotions yet. Not that you ever were.” On cue, Danny's eyes glowed green for a moment, as he glared at Vlad. The man was just asking for a fight. Danny didn't care if he was half the man size. Didn't stop Dani from kicking his butt. “Vlad, could you stop antagonizing Danny! You two haven't been archenemies in the last few years. It would be nice if you two acted like it!” Jazz huffed as she came out of the dressing room to show the gown she was wearing. It was a loose rose gold dress that clung at her waist. Loose fabric in the front over her breasts and the back was cut out. “Blech. Oh Heavens no Jasmine! What happened to the dress I picked out for you?” Vlad gasped. “It didn't fit. What's wrong with this one?” Jazz looked at herself in the mirror. She thought it was pretty, and was less gaudy then the red ballgown Vlad had picked out. She could walk in it and found it elegant but youthful. “Jasmine, I know you don't care about your reputation, but that dress would have everyone thinking you're a hussy! Far too revealing. Plus pink is not your color, almost matches your skin tone. Biscuits! They would think your nude!“ Danny raised a brow at Vlad then back at Jazz. It was strange to see Jazz in a fancy dress, and he kind of agreed about the nude thing. But He hated how Vlad was over dramatizing it. Jazz put her hands on her hips, with a huff. “And bright red was?” “Red matches Danny and I. Color coordination girl! Its the easiest way to show that we're a family!” Vlad huffed. “Ok, ok. Fine. I'll change. You know, it would be nice if you un-possessed one of the employees so I can actually find a dress in here.” Jazz complained. “They're just here to be mouth pieces! They'll say anything to make you buy a dress. They're being paid on compliments not accuracy, my dear girl.” Vlad stated. Jazz rolled her eyes and huffed back into the dressing room. Even she was getting annoyed by Vlad, by now. Despite him being a big help, he still was.. difficult to deal with. Danny looked at where Jazz marched off from, no doubt Vlad already had one of the possessed employees gathering gowns for her. He glanced back at Vlad. It was still so strange to be on “good” terms with him. Who knew one of them had to fall into a pathetic state to do so. Danny was always hoping it be Vlad. Not him. He remembered when he tried to fight Vlad when he first found them. Unfortunately, Danny had only recovered his flying and phasing abilities by then. He was still having trouble turning invisible or consistently changing forms. Vlad was too stunned to fight back at first, seeing Danny.. but obviously overpowered him easily. Danny held back a snort at how big Vlad's eyes got when he found himself on the end of the Fenton Peeler. He surrendered Danny to Jazz and then started gabbing like he does. Danny didn't want anything to do with him, but Jazz made an offer. He didn't talk to her for two weeks after it. Pissed off she would even think to make a deal with him again. Like always though, she was proven right. Vlad perked up at the idea of having them, even if it wasn't how he imagined. Thus they became an awkward family. Vlad would visit a lot at first, but soon his shady businesses got a hold of him again. Danny was so glad, he had been very close to punching the man. Danny remember that was when Danielle came around. She was so confused at first, then she lavished in being the older sister. Jazz was able to make Dani legal, through Vlad. After that, she chose to live with Valerie most of the time. She did stay with him and Jazz on and off, and then she traveled the rest of the time. He missed her. She said she was going to visit at least once more before his next “birthday”. Danny was looking forward to it. He really wanted to get in some practice with his ice powers. He found it strange that his ice had come back to him, when most of his powers hadn't. It appeared that his powers were not coming back in order nor as quickly as they did his first year as Phantom. Not that he was complaining. It was better he was able to control it now, then to find himself frosting over in class with no clue on how to release it. Danny glanced back at Vlad. He tried to help Danny with his powers too. Apparently the rate he was getting them were more like Vlad had. Unfortunately for the both of them, Vlad was a terrible teacher. Honestly, he thinks him and Jazz helped Vlad more with his powers then the other way around. Which Danny did not particularly want, but Vlad was being... decent. So he won't hold it against him.. for now. “Can I change back into my clothes now?” Danny asked. “No, Daniel-Danny. We have to make certain you and your sister match!” Vlad insisted. “Now just sit tight and be a good boy, hm?” Danny groaned as he flopped down on the ground crossing his arms. Not caring that he was wrinkling up a suit that probably costed thousands of dollars. Vlad was going to buy it, and honestly, he didn't care if he wasn't. It was Vlad's money he be wasting. Jazz came out in a red dress and was immediately dismissed by Vlad saying the shade was too maroon and the jewels on it were poorly cut. Now Danny had to listen to Vlad rant while Jazz stomped back into the dressing room. This was going to be a long day. Danny felt a cooling sensation in his chest. He jolted looking around, it wasn't close. Vlad seemed to pause, meeting Danny's eyes. Vlad frowned, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the direction of the pull. He then glanced at the cameras, noticing them moving, but they shortly died after Vlad had noticed them. “It appears we have company. Come along Little Badger. JASMINE! Change of plans, get dress. I'll just hire you a designer!” Vlad helping Danny back on his feet, calling to Jazz. “Its next weekend?!” “They've made gowns for the red carpet in less time and with worse fabric!” Vlad pushing Danny into the dressing room, phasing the boy through the wall into it. “URGHH! I just got this zipped!” Jazz groaned as she struggled to get the dress back off.

--owo--

“Finally! I got the cameras back online.” Tim stated as he looked at the screen on the device in his hands. “Well too late, they're already walking out.” Jason pointed out, staring at the shop through binoculars. Jazz's hair was frizzed and sticking up every where, her arms crossed as she walked in front of the two boys. She didn't look pleased. Vlad was carrying a bag, while on his phone, bringing up the rear. Danny was in the middle, trying to keep up with Jazz. He almost reached to grab her, but he pulled his hand back before he could, staring at the ground. Jason frowned. “Dammit.” Tim cursed, “I can't bring up the past hour either.” “This is ridiculous, why must we follow them? The ice cream shop will be closed soon!” Damian huffed from his spot on the roof. All of them wearing quick disguises. “Shh brat. You'll get your icecream if I have to make it myself.” Jason grumbled. “Ooo Jay offering to cook for us?” Dick grinned. “A. not cooking, freezing. B. Who the fuck said the offer was for all of you?” Jason huffed, still watching the three as they climbed into a limo. Extra Masters. Though he duck when both Danny and Vlad looked his way. “You would think they were looking right at us.” Dick narrowing his eyes, swearing they were. “Maybe they were.” Tim suspected. “Dumb asses. They couldn't see us from that distance.” Jason stated, more so to himself. “Then why did you duck?” Dick asked with a raised brow, keeping low behind a short wall. “Instinct...” Jason grumbled trying to blow it off. “Do you think Jazz is a meta?” Tim asked after a moment of silence, his eyes popping open as if he unlocked a sixth sense. All three of them looking at Tim with a confused expression. Except Damian's. His was annoyance. “No seriously. Her hair looked like a vacuum sucked it up! What if she short circuited the cameras?” They paused again to soak that possibility in. It was just as plausible as the other five hundred variant of theories they had going in the chat. If she was possibly a meta, which Jason doubted, then there was no way Bruce be okay with her being here. Especially because of her major. “Fuck...We have to make sure Bruce does NOT get more than five minutes with them.” Jason stated. “Attached?” Dick teased. “More like they deserve to live without needing a giant bat breathing down their neck.” “You are the ones stalking them.” Damian reminded, tapping his foot. His patience is running thin. The three made no remark.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #vlad masters #jazz fenton #batman #dc #crossover #fan fic #jason todd #barbara gordon #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #batfamily #batfam #just for fun #raising phantom

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space-blue · 8 months

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Hey, I saw you reblogging that post about normalizing sending people random asks and can only assume that you'd like some. So here some random questions (in no order) that you can answer in whatever length and degree of seriousness that you're comfortable with:

Favourite dinosaur/prehistoric animal?

Dead historical person that you'd like to resurrect for a chat or a chance to yell at them?

Most/least favourite story trope in fiction?

A country that you'd like to visit some day?

Something funny that happend to you (If you want^^)?

A nature fact that you find fascinating?

Food that you'd like to try?

Favourite artist/artistic inspiration/art style?

Last song that you listened to?

The prettiest insect/arthropod that you can find online?

I think that list is long enough, skip whatever you want if it's too invasive or weird :))

Damn, now that's an ask!! O_O Thank you! Sat down to try and think it through. I don't mind being serious :3

Favourite dinosaur/prehistoric animal?

I love a lot of them, especially now that we have such a greater understanding of what they looked like. Floofy dinos are just extra excellent. But I think I'll have to crown Spinosaurus. It's a bit of a meme dinosaur by now. Every discovery changes our perception of what it looked like, and people still debate if it was aquatic or not. (I'm team aquatic all the way) I mean look at it. It's fucking iconic.

I once started a short story set in a future in which humans had long since reengineered some dinosaurs, and a pirate crew had a raft-style boat that was powered by a Spinosaurus. They'd pierced grommets in the sail to clip ropes to her back. They also had pet Troodons on the crew. Sadly I lost steam and inspiration and never went anywhere with the story. I still adore Spinosaurus.

Dead historical person that you'd like to resurrect for a chat or a chance to yell at them?

If I could just indulge myself, Francois Renee de Chateaubriand. Absolutely crazy guy. Lived through the French revolution, Napoleon, went to the Americas, wrote early romantic works, mostly known for his autobiography memoirs from beyond the grave. He's truly a blorbo from my history. Look at this :

“A moral character is attached to autumnal scenes; the leaves falling like our years, the flowers fading like our hours, the clouds fleeting like our illusions, the light diminishing like our intelligence, the sun growing colder like our affections, the rivers becoming frozen like our lives—all bear secret relations to our destinies.”

BUT if I had a perfect translator and could quizz to my heart's content, and had actual intentions of being useful, I'd talk to a Gaulois. Probably Vercingetorix or an earlier leader from Celtic France.

We know SO little about these people. They're my ancestors, and we have almost no knowledge of their beliefs and practices. We have some (most likely wrong and slanderous) accounts from (the invading) romans. And archeological finds. But stuff like Cernunos/Karnonos (for who I wrote one of my fav short stories ever) is known from one pillar, one cauldron, and nothing else! We don't even know what he was the god of!

It's so infuriating to me. If I could quizz a Gaulois, I'd write the most detailed and comprehensive guide to their belief, their knowledge of others tribes, and their everyday life. I'd want to know about their gods, their myths, and their superstitions.

Most/least favourite story trope in fiction?

A/B/O and mpreg

A country that you'd like to visit some day?

Japan... Sad hours... I live in the UK, right. Scotland. And I had managed to get a work holiday visa to Japan! It's free to get, you just have an age limit. So I saved money (excruciatingly slowly, the UK being what it is), and finally planned it all. Got the visa (in Paris), got 400£ worth of shots (encephalitis, japanese encephalitis, rabies...), and was ready to apply for a Mongolian visa and start buying train tickets.

You see, I was going to do Scotland > London > Paris > Berlin > Warsaw > Vilnius > Tallinn > St Petersburg > Moscow > Irkutsk (on the transsiberian!!) > Ulaanbaatar > Beijing > Shanghai > Osaka

All train and bus, except for the last leg, which is a ferry.

When I was getting my second of three injections (always rabies + another and rabies turned me into a shivering plank of wood omg) the doctor was like... 'are you sure you want the last round done? There's this worrying cough developing in China at the moment...'

January 2020, RIP.

And then I aged out of the Japanese visa. And then Russia went to war and ruined its reputation forever. I spent a lot of time trying to make myself see that COVID had far worse repercussions for countless people, and I got off easily. But this was the culminations of a decade of dreaming and many years of planning and saving. It was a major bummer.

Something funny that happened to you (If you want^^)?

Weirdly enough this one stumps me. IDK why. I have weird, crazy, bad... but funny?

OH. Actually I think I told it once here. I'm sorry, it's not even funny either, just wild...

A nature fact that you find fascinating?

This entire video.

youtube

Food that you'd like to try?

A real family style chinese hot pot. The sort you eat on a tiny plastic stool in someone's backyard.

Favourite artist/artistic inspiration/art style?

That's definitely too hard. I don't have a favourite. Maybe it's because I studied art. Not a matter of taste, but a matter of exposure. I've seen a lot of styles and a lot of artists and there is no one work I can point to and say "this is it". The inspiration art folder I keep is extremely varied itself. Variety is the spice of life.

Last song that you listened to?

I'm currently listening to the IXION soundtrack as I write! It absolutely SLAPS.

youtube

The prettiest insect/arthropod that you can find online?

Definitely has to be a moth. Also I really love the colour scheme of this wasp :

I think moths are just so gorgeous. Butterflies too of course, but the moths are SO fluffy and some of them have insanely clean aesthetics.

LOOK

Milionia moth

Look at this Pompelon Marginata! Literally the Louboutin of moths.

Also they can have really fun caterpillars:

Little beasts... And I think it fucks that they make themselves a cocoon and basically liquify into some primordial goo to remake themselves. And often remake themselves as their best dressed sex party tiiiime!!

Hope that answers your questions appropriately :3

#blue talks #ask #questions #thanks that was very fun!#Sorry for the ton of links haha #long post

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mlobsters · 8 months

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supernatural s10e9 the things we left behind (w. andrew dabb)

all right so i think this is the one i knew was lurking ahead of us, again thought there'd be more mark-related buildup before we got here

deleted a rambling paragraph about thinking the show is out of ideas, yet another troubled teen

he never laughs like this, reminds me of the scene when sam gets glitterbombed by the clowns in s7e14 also written by dabb (and loflin) (i included a clip of that scene because it was so cute). sam's always so confused/concerned when dean's laughing that much (but i mean it rarely happens on screen so i'm concerned too this time around)

but i'm glad he relaxed and enjoyed it too. and that dean was so into the grilled cheese sam made for him. but like, could they find a more uncomfortable place to sit to chill and watch tv? maybe on the cold concrete dungeon floor next time? were the men of letters anti-couch?

how many plotlines are we gonna jam in. dean and sam's business, claire and cas, rowena and crowley

claire novak / big little lies - kathryn newton as abigail carlson

she's so pretty and i like the styling they did for her

CLAIRE You’ve changed. The Castiel I met? He was crappy. Like super stuck-up and a dick and you just wanted to punch him in his stupid angel face. CASTIEL I don’t think I was THAT bad. CLAIRE You totally were. And now you’re just … I don’t know. Nicer. And kind of a doof. No offense.

no lies detected

DEAN Cas, listen to me. There’s some stuff you just got to let go. Okay? The people you let down, the ones you can’t save … You got to forget about them. For your own good. CASTIEL Is that what you do? DEAN That’s the opposite of what I do. But I ain’t exactly a role model.

mhm

working the wet kitten heart eyes overtime

DEAN Cas, I need you to promise me something. CASTIEL Of course. DEAN If I do go dark side, you got to take me out. CASTIEL What do you mean? DEAN Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever. And don’t let Sam get in the way, because he’ll try. I can’t go down that road again, man. I can’t be that thing again.

don't like it

didn't we do creeper dad with orphans in a house schtick already? god what even was that episode about. ugh. was that paige? whatever her actual name was. okay, yes, krissy. s8e18 my post where i mentioned cult vibes. (i searched for cult in my blog. no dice. so damned frustrating because i link to my shit all the time and i know the words i used and it doesn't even help. rrrgh tumblr pLEASE fucking fix this)

is the mark making dean extra hungry?

DEAN Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus. Settle. CLAIRE Eat me, Hasselhoff.

ooh (fully justified) burn

the exact last thing dean needs to hear

i dunno, man. yeah, the whole business with angels swooping in and taking how many people away from their families? a very valid problem that they just ignored basically. so now we're gonna have a big moral reckoning over it via this kid? just feels. forced

ruth connell (rowena) is listed at 5'2" but she seems smaller than that. maybe it's these full length nearly hobble skirts they have her in

mark sheppard just seems to bring out the best in everyone, quite compelling scene here between crowley and rowena (esp considering i'm hard pressed to care). and well, a character likely just as wily as he is, good match to play around with

CASTIEL I thought I could make it up to her. SAM I don’t think you can. I mean, Jimmy was her father, and to some people, that’s … that’s everything, you know? CASTIEL No, I don’t. I never knew my father. He was distant, to say the least. What about you? Did you love your father? DEAN With everything I had. SAM Yeah. Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t always easy, but yeah. DEAN I mean, look. John Winchester’s not going to win any “Number One Dad” awards, you know? But you know… damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him.

right, you know i have major beef with john over the child neglect. i can't let it go. like, he was there when you needed him? when exactly? like all those times canonically we saw you calling him and he didn't show up? dean's dying in the hospital? (nevermind the not being there for their childhood that we see onscreen) i just. no :p

DEAN Somehow, we convince him to let us go. So, we all go. We all, you know, see all the sights, and uh, ride the subway, eat too much pizza. The whole nine. Well, by about midnight, Sam and Dad are zonked, and I figure… Screw it. I’m going to CBGB.

love sam's face listening to dean's story. i don't think we've had a long stories like this before? it's cute. like jackles and padalecki telling a story at con :p

CASTIEL I know. It’s where The Ramones and Blondie got their start. DEAN Right. SAM Wow. Anyways, he was WAY underage at the time.

DEAN Then this girls walks up and she says “Hey, why don’t you come over and sit down with me and my friends at our table?” All right! SAM Yeah, and they get him drunk. First time. DEAN But not fun drunk. I’m not quite sure what was in that stuff, but the room starts to spin, and I feel like I’m going to puke … forever.

dad saved him from being roofied? i don't see how else that could be understood. fucking weird.

DEAN Yeah, and you know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around and he looked at me and he said, “Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.” SAM “It’s my job to raise you right.”

Y'ALL. i had to cover my mouth and if my kids weren't sleeping i would have screamed. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. whew

per usual i could do without the attempted rape.

SAM Tell me you had to do this. DEAN I didn’t … I didn’t mean to. SAM No. Tell me it was them or you!

well, there it is. i truly don't know where we go from here

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 10x09 #andrew dabb #claire novak #john winchester #kathryn newton #big little lies #hiky #spnhiky #wtf am i even doing

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rottingmanifesto · 1 year

Note

‘more than anything’ for donovan !! :] (from the prompts!)

Snippet with John and my OC Canary— inspired by @berniecranes little fic he did a while back!

“Didn’t know you had one of Lincoln’s dog tags.”

“You weren’t supposed to know.”

“Hey, your fault for leaving them on the dresser.”

Donovan glances up from his work long enough to see Canary fiddling with the dog tags and shakes his head. The work was a goddamn paper trail with god-knows-what at the end of it. He’d picked up Canary’s habit of chewing on hangnails between paragraphs and swearing when it started bleeding. Two nails bitten down to the quick and working on a third. Beat his smoking habit, at least.

“Just put them back.”

“There’s a story here, isn’t there?”

“Oh Jesus Christ— can you just do what I ask you to for once?” He tosses down a messy dossier and stares at Canary, who shrugs in response without looking up.

“I’ll trade you.”

“Trade me what?”

“What do you want?”

“An answer to all this bullshit,” he motions to the desk, filled to the brim with files and photos. “Which I don’t think you can do.”

Canary runs a bandaged finger over the dog tags. “Have you checked Remy Duvall yet?”

“What, the shitty radio host?”

“I’m just saying, he’s been spotted with Olivia around the city. Could be worth looking into.” They throw their hands up. “Might be wrong.”

Donovan leans back. He’d need a bandage for his left ring finger after picking at the scab. “And you didn’t tell me that sooner.” It’s meant to be a question but comes out more like a command.

Canary looks away. “Didn’t think you’d listen.”

“Right. Well, I’ll look into him, if you put away the dog tags.”

They relent. “Fine. You still owe me the story though.”

“I’ll tell you if anything turns up. Deal?”

This whole summer had been marked with negotiations between residents and this one damn college kid who kept poking into things they didn’t need to. Hell, he’d faced less stress while in-country than he did in the month of July. The humidity didn’t help much.

“Fine by me.”

—

“You sure about this?”

“Wouldn’t do it if I weren’t sure.”

John lets a puff escape his lips before handing the cigarette to Lincoln, who had finished clipping his dog tag onto the chain. Lincoln was being too tender for John’s liking. There was something off.

“You really want me to have this.”

“Might be the only way we make it out.”

“Hey—we’ll get out of this.”

Lincoln shrugs. “Maybe.”

They sat on the motel bed while Lincoln took a drag then ashes what was left of the cigarette. John had some song playing but it was muted by the ticking clock that spelled the same doom he’d felt since arriving in New Bordeaux. Lincoln held out his hand, which John took. They sat in silence.

He checked his watch. “Gotta run. You keep my tag safe, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll shine it for you.”

Lincoln smirks with his little sideways grin. “Be safe.”

He left before John could say “you too”.

—

It had been another sleepless night when he propped himself up with his good hand and got a good look at the tags. They don’t bleed the same. He has type AB blood, and Lincoln has type O-negative. That bothered him. Some damn stupid little bother, but a bother nonetheless.

He eyes the phone. Maybe he would call.

More than anything, he wanted Lincoln to be safe.

#‘canary’#john donovan #my writing #i did not proofread this #I attempted the soft-ish writing again #I’m just not meant for it ig

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cloudbattrolls · 1 year

Text

Paved with Good Intentions - 1

SIX SWEEPS PRIOR

It had been such a nice night, that night.

I remember how I’d shared the news with Jikiro - his name was different then - and we’d stayed up far too late, still very much pupas despite how grown-up we liked to tell ourselves we were. Candy wrappers and drink bottles covered the floor of his room, for I’d had a smaller place then, and I rarely invited him over.

If I’m honest, I was a little jealous of how a tealblood had a nicer hive than me, though of course he did with his ever so prestigious bloodline and all.

It was cold, I remember that - snow fell gently outside his window, not much, just enough to give everything a pretty dusting.

“This is it.” I’d declared, holding up my latest drink, a lime seltzer. I was moderate even then, unlike my indulgent friend. “This is my ticket to business! Finally we can do it together!”

Jikiro slowly finished chewing on some chocolate, and nodded. “Yeah, but you better pick a cool one, or I’m disowning you.”

“Ooh, big chat from the drippy ink g - boy.” I gave him a slightly worried look, but he nodded, beaming, and I grinned back myself.

God, I still had those awful braces then, silver and terrible across my crooked fangs.

He pushed me over - tried to, my drink spilled a little but I shoved him back with my free hand, and blueblood superiority triumphed.

For all of five seconds before he plain tackled me onto the rug, but I’d set my drink down and went straight to giving him a noogie. His horns were even smaller then, it was almost laughably easy.

We wrestled a bit and I wound up on top, for all he was bigger - not nearly as much then as he is now. He was starting to get softer in the middle, but we were still around the same height, and all my limbs worked how they were supposed to.

“You’re all chat.” I said smugly, adjusting my glasses. “Chat and hot air! And pudge.” I said, giving him a friendly poke in the belly.

He stuck his tongue out and squirmed, but I held fast, digging my knees in.

“The pudge feels pain, you jerk.” He complained. “Get off!”

I sighed as if being asked to give up my new apprenticeship, but I obligingly slid off of him like a gentleman.

“You keep that up and I won’t go into business with you!” He sniffed.

“Pssssh, sure.” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Right. And who’ll replace me? All your other friends?”

His face fell and he huddled up, and my ears drooped. Damn it.

“Hey, hey, sorry.” I said softly, twisting my hands together. “Look, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s their fault, they don’t get how cool you can be!”

“Yeah, right.” He mumbled. “They still make fun of my accent, and because I’m teal, and…everything.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” I said, slightly impatient. “Yes, they can be a little rough! But that’s how highbloods are. Push back at them! Show them you’re a Takami! At least you have your bloodline.”

I was unable to keep some bitterness out of my voice, despite trying to be supportive.

Jikiro sighed. “My bloodline made of women. Women who insist I have to be a woman. They won’t…they won’t listen. I don’t know what to do.” He looked like he was on the edge of tears. Again.

I knew I should have been sympathetic, but I was annoyed. This was my night and he was being a big downer, which had become all too common lately.

“Fine, be a puddle then!” I snapped. “I do have other people I can celebrate with. Cry on Hanabi, it’s her job and not mine.”

I got up and stormed out. Childish, I know. Petty.

But we were children.

–

“Heeeeeey, Jamie!”

Lastha wasn’t my favorite friend, but if there was one thing I could say for her, she was always reliable. A cerulean who had a chronic inability to tidy her hair no matter how many clips or hairbands I offered her, she was nevertheless always good to give me a hand with studying or with whatever prank I felt like pulling.

“Jamie, Jamie.” She said insistently. She did have a bit of a grating voice, I recall, but I suppose I can’t blame her too much. She wore the schoolfeed uniform almost religiously, heaven knows why, it was dull as anything.

“Las, Las.” I said back, mockingly. “What?”

We stood outside the place we all took classes - it’s where I met Jikiro, a spot for up and coming teal to indigo pupas to learn all the things we’re supposed to so we can succeed in life. Well, for pupas with good names, well-established lineages or at least ones whose ancestry can be easily traced to someone with decent standing in the empire.

And me.

I don’t actually recall the place too well, despite how much time I spent in it. I think part of me doesn’t want to. All I can tell you is that it was a fairly blocky, gray building, and that the drones who patrolled the grounds were objects of both fear and ridicule to us all. One of my better-known pranks had been leading Lastha and several others in a great bid to get balls of mud lodged on their electronic eyes without them realizing it was us.

This night had been a fairly routine one of learning - except now I had my job to go to! Five and a half sweeps old, and I was already an apprentice!

I couldn’t seem too excited in front of the others or leave myself open to all sorts of teasing, but I couldn’t help bubbling up with it inside.

Lastha’s big gray eyes drilled into me.

“You don’t know? Your friend Kasumi dropped out!”

She said gleefully.

I frowned.

“He wouldn’t. Would he?”

It was true he hadn’t been in tonight, but I’d just assumed he was being mentored by his signmate. He’d only met her a few perigees ago, having at last reached the appropriate age, and he would sometimes miss class in favor of receiving lessons on his bloodline’s business instead.

“I overheard the crechemistress talking on the phone.” She boasted, hands on her hips, and my power assured me she was being truthful.

“Honestly, good riddance! I know you took some platonic pity on him, but he’s just a teal. He’s better off not being here anyway!” She waved a hand dismissively.

“Now you can spend more time with us!” She said with a grin.

“Mmm, right.” I offered noncommittally, and she frowned.

“I have my job to go to, I’ll see you later, Las.” I said with an airy wave, walking away.

–

I flashed my ID card at the reader, watching it turn from forbidding rust to an affirmative pink, and grinned as I walked into the shining silver building and entered its vast first floor.

Robots floated about, trolls bustled around, and holographic images were displayed everywhere. It was chaotic. It was disorienting to watch for longer than a minute.

I loved it immensely.

Easily dodging around all the bigger, taller trolls, I made my way to the office where I was expected by my new mentor.

Excited as I was, I still paused to knock on the smooth white door. It paid to be respectful to a violet, even when he’d chosen me in particular.

“Mr. Coloth?” I called.

“Come in, Jameth.”

His voice came through the door’s speaker, amused.

I didn’t much like that he called me that, but I’d never complain. It was just a little thing, not using my nickname, even though everyone else did.

I stood as straight as I could, highly aware of how short and small I was for my caste. Everyone expects bluebloods to be big hunks of meat, or built yet lithe, but apparently genetics missed the memo for me. I was strong like any other of my hue, but clearly both good vision and good musculature had taken one look at me and run in the other direction.

No matter. Neither of those were why I was here.

“You realize you will have to start with everyone else, despite your talents.” He said smoothly.

Coloth was also short for his caste, but with him it didn’t even seem to matter. He laid back in his chair with as much ease as if the whole city belonged to him, not just this building. He was a curvy violet, with shoulder length hair, and his fins were edged with metal.

I nodded. “Of course, sir. One cannot sit at the peak of a mountain without first understanding its base.”

He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.

“A little scholar, are you? That won’t help you here. We deal with facts, not literary fluff.”

I was confused, but tried not to show it.

“Yes, sir. I’m quite looking forward to learning more of the trade, believe me. I know there’s an incredible amount I don’t know.”

“Of course you do.” He said, with a tone that was…probably well meaning. He’d chosen me, after all, he had to want me here, didn’t he? His violet eyes were hard to read as he sat in his sleek black chair, but I got the distinct feeling there was something I was missing.

“Go see the packaging supervisor, Jameth, she’ll have work for you.”

It was clear I was being dismissed.

Trying not to let it bother me, I instead went to the supervisor (after I worked out how to find her in the first place, as Coloth had neglected to tell me who or where she was) and began my foray into packaging.

It was actually a lot more interesting than it sounds.

To me, anyway.

For some odd reason, I didn’t find a lot of fellow enthusiasts among my friends. Who knew biodegradable materials and the best kind of adhesives for long-term space storage weren’t hot topics of conversation among five and six sweep olds? Clearly not me, back then.

I considered calling Jikiro - or Kasumi, as he’d been known then, as I got back to my hive. Then I didn't. Then I was just plain bored and figured I might as well try.

I called once and left a message. Then again.

Finally he called me back.

“What do you want.” He said, sullen.

“Well if you’d listened to my voicemail, you might have a clue…” I quipped. “Anyway. Why did you drop out?”

“Why do you think.”

“I think many things.” I said, a touch impatient again. “I’m asking you, so I don’t just assume and get it wrong. I’m being a friend, you ninny.”

He sighed. “Okay. Thanks. I just…I don’t think I can handle it right now. You’re right. I am being a big downer. I know it’s a pain. I can’t seem to stop, so it’s not fair to you to try and stick around, right? Plus…I’m so tired all the time, Jamie. This is wearing me out, feeling all wrong like I do.”

I bit my lip. Ugh. He was being reasonable…but I still didn’t like it.

“Isn’t there anything you can do? They really won’t let you start those treatments we looked up? I know they’d be a bit pricey, but surely you can afford it.”

“They won’t, Jamie!” He cried. “They won’t…they’ll never let me do it. Himari says it’s just not done. That she understands it’s hard sometimes, but I’ll get past this…phase.” He choked up.

Anger shot through me, white-hot and volatile as phosphor.

“Himari can go to hell.” I snarled. “I’m coming over and I’m setting her straight.”

“Jamie, no, please - “ He begged, but I’d already hung up the phone.

Perhaps if I had listened to him, it all would have been very different.

#cloud writes #jameth abnale #jikiro takami #whoa! rare first person sighting!#but writing from Jamie's POV is too fun #me realizing doing kookaburra's backstory is gonna be a whole ass epic

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

Text

modeling with mammon pt 2

includes: mammon x/& gn!reader, lucifer & gn!reader (they/them pronouns used)

wc: .8k | rated t | m.list | pt 1

a/n: this is for @highly-functioning-mitochondria, who won one of the spots in my sequel lottery! she asked for a part 2 to modeling with mammon, with what happens after the shot + the brothers reactions to it + a blushy mc/mammon. congrats again and i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: light thirst, mild self-doubt for just a quick sec, teasing & embarrassment

please reblog 💕💕💕💕

“mc, our ad is being released today!” mammon exclaims, walking into the living room. you look up, cheeks warming slightly at the reminder. “let’s watch it on the tv!”

“if you want to,” you say, a bit nervous. what if it looks silly? or, oh god, what if it doesn’t? you hadn't wanted to see any of the in-progress work- watching the edited version was bad enough but the raw footage would no doubt be much, much worse.

“i want to see!” asmo chirps, sliding into the room. “i’ll bet mc made the cutest model!”

“what’s going on?” belphie asks, also joining you in the living room. with him, comes beel. soon enough, all of the brothers are there, ready to watch. just what you’d wanted, them all to see.

“let me pull it up,” mammon says, remote in hand. you stay where you are on the couch, watching him find the video. the time stamp on the clip says thirty seconds, so you mentally prepare yourself as mammon corrals the rest of his brothers into silence. once he’s sure he has everyone's attention, he presses play, and immediately, asmo whistles.

“damn, mc,” he declares, eyebrows raised. “you look hot!”

keeping your eyes on the screen, you find you agree, at least a little bit. the clothes and makeup you were in had done a good job transforming you. however, as good as you look, most of your attention is on mammon, who looks like pristine perfection. his hair is messy, and all of his attention is on you, who in return is completely enraptured by him.

hoots and hollers fill the room as advertisement-you run your hand up mammon’s abs, and you flush, still able to feel his smooth skin, burning hot beneath your palm. covering your face, you peek out from between your fingers as the ad continues.

you have to admit you and mammon made a very good team. you’re tempted to buy the product now, and you hadn’t even liked the cologne all that much.

you squeak as advertisement-mammon wraps his arm around your lower back, and once again, the room explodes into noise.

“hey!” levi says loudly, “you shouldn’t be touching them like that! it’s- it’s inappropriate!”

“we were just actin’,” mammon argues, shooting you a look, as if to say can you believe this guy? and you give him a wobbly smile back. this is officially the longest thirty seconds of your life. you like seeing your work, even though it's pretty surreal, but you really could have done without the peanut gallery. you should have expected it, really. the boys never could mind their own business.

finally, the ad draws to a close, the brand flashing across the screen, and mammon cheers.

“we did so great!” he says, holding his hand out for you to high five. pulling one of yours away from your face, you give him one, not prepared for him to catch your hand and keep it, grinning. “we should definitely do that again! and we got paid a pretty penny for it, didn’t we?”

“what?” asmo interjects, a whine in his voice. “no fair! i want to model with them next! they’re a natural!”

“mc, you should film a cosplay video with me,” levi says next, and again, the room is filled with lighthearted arguing and taunting. you almost feel like a product yourself, something to be won, but you know they’re not really seeing you like that so you don’t mind too much.

“you did very well,” lucifer says, leaning close to you in order to be heard. “it seems like you and mammon work very well together.” abruptly, you realize mammon still has your hand and pull it back gently. you’re sure most of the blood in your body is in your cheeks by now.

“thank you,” you manage. “i was pretty nervous but i’m glad that doesn’t really seem to be translating across.”

“not at all,” he says. “in fact, you almost seem a little… parched. we’re you given adequate refreshments on set?”

surprise rocks through you as you register his words, and you see the small quirk in his otherwise flat face that shows he’s teasing. “oh shut up,” you mutter. you cannot believe that lucifer, of all of them, called you out for your obvious desire. “i was just acting.” you shoot a look towards mammon, hoping he hadn't heard, but his ears are decidedly pinker than normal and he's looking anywhere but at you.

“sure,” lucifer says leaning back, though his tone tells you he clearly doesn’t buy it. “and i’m sure that’s just what mammon was doing as well.”

scrunching your face up at lucifer, you turn away from him, just in time to see mammon trying to replay the video. you groan; modeling had been great, and truly, it had been nice to be that close to him, but you’re not sure that it was worth all of the ribbing and embarrassment.

(though you knew if he asked you to do another gig with him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. whatever. you’d never been one to deny yourself.)

leviathans-watching’s work - please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Page Turner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N becomes a little impatient while Spencer is reading... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Thigh riding, thigh fucking, cum play Word Count : 2.5k

MASTERLSIT

NOTE: this is just FILTH FILTH FILLLTHHHHH, and it was supposed to be a blurb but i got kinda carried away so it’s a little longer than that... so enjoy your porn with no plot 😊😂 And shoutout to @broken-stardust for beta-ing this for me!! we originally talked about the idea for this fic months ago, so i’m glad you finally got to see it ❤

———

She was in the mood for a little trouble.

Well, it was more like she was in the mood for a good fuck, but at the moment, with Spencer's strong desire to finish this incredibly long book series he'd just discovered, the mood for trouble came as more of a... fun little footnote that would most certainly add to the experience she was looking for.

So she strode up to Spencer, who was sitting comfortably on the couch with his book open and his glasses perched cutely on the tip of his nose, and straddled herself on his right leg wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton underwear and a t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, low and seductive as she planted a wet kiss into his neck. Her hands clutched his shirt, willing herself to be closer and with every intention of him putting the book down and paying her some attention.

Either he truly wasn’t in the mood, or he was teasing her.

"Hey," is all he responded with, clipped and distant. His eyes scanned the pages, albeit slower than usual due to the woman clinging herself to him and begging for attention.

"You've been reading all weekend," Y/N half-whined, pressing herself into him and attaching her lips to his neck again. "Can't you at least take a little break?"

"It won't take me long to finish this book, and then we can, okay?"

She knew it was fair. It was more than fair, actually, but that didn't help the fact that she was still incredibly horny, and if she took care of it herself, it wouldn't have been enough. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

So she whined for real this time, more like a disappointed child, as she gripped his shirt and pulled herself closer to him. "Spencer..."

She expected him to warn her, to tell her to wait or something—anything—but instead he opted for the exact opposite.

He did nothing.

Y/N promptly decided that wasn't the correct response and rolled her hips, grinding down on his leg for friction. Her tongue drew a messy line up the side of his neck as she circled her hips and sought out the stimulation she so desperately wanted. And at the way his body tensed under her, obviously wanting the same things but holding out in favor of restraint, she knew her plan was close to working.

So she let out a long, content sigh and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging it gently and continued to ride his thigh, moving quicker and harder with each second as she felt her body start to unravel. Her lips attached to his neck and mumbled all sorts of little noises that should have gotten him to fucking do something...

And still, even as she felt herself cling to him and her body recover from a short (and quite frankly unsatisfying) orgasm, Spencer remained in his position, still flipping pages in that godforsaken book.

"Spencer," Y/N grunted. She was exasperated, and strongly hoping that she wasn't giving him any satisfaction in her need for attention.

However, instead he seemed a little defensive. "Wh—You're distracting me! I can't finish the book as quickly if you're distracting me..."

"Fine," she sighed, peeling herself away from him and trying one last thing to get him to submit.

Y/N slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it gently at his face, watching it fall into his lap in front of the book.

Still nothing. His eyes roamed the pages, and he was clearly highly invested in whatever story was written on them. And god damn it if he still wasn't the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

So she slunk back to the bedroom and plopped herself down on the bed with only a t-shirt, laying down and crossing one leg over the other. And when she tossed her head to the side with a sigh, she noticed the other books in Spencer's current interest scattered along his side of the bed.

Well, I'm not particularly in the mood anymore, and there's really nothing else to do...

"Why the fuck not," Y/N sighed, reaching out and fishing for the book that had the number 1 printed on the spine.

***

With the final paragraphs of the story swimming through his brain, the book settled closed and neatly on the cushion beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap and noticed the bundle of cotton sitting there, next to a small damp spot on his pants where his girlfriend had been just under a half hour earlier.

He felt bad, ignoring her like that. It was hard resisting her when she was literally there, in his lap and getting herself off on his leg. And while he could practically hear Morgan in the back of his mind, telling him with disappointment in his voice, "It doesn't matter how important you think something is, that is always gonna be the most important thing,"... Spencer really couldn't help it. The book was so good he couldn't put it down. Not even for sex.

And now that he'd finished, he was focusing on what his brain decided it couldn't handle before, remembering her wet, hot breath on his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode his thigh, begging him for attention.

He was feeling guilty.

And he was going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making it up to her. He swore it, no matter who called, no matter what came up, he wasn't going to pay any attention to it unless it was his girlfriend's limbs tangled with his.

His hand reached for the book so he could return it with the others, but he thought better of it, wondering if Y/N would say anything. Instead, he figured walking in empty-handed and announcing how he was ready to give her his undivided attention for the rest of eternity if she'd let him would be a better option.

Spencer was feeling good about his decision, but when he opened the bedroom door and saw her, he felt even worse about ignoring her.

Because there she was, one foot pressed flat into the mattress and the other crossed over her knee, exposing her bare cunt to the world as she held a book in her hands. She looked statuesque and absolutely delectable, and he'd turned her down for a book he could have easily finished tomorrow morning.

Oh, he was definitely going to make it up to her...

"H—Hey, babe," he got out, trying to get her attention like she hadn't already heard the squeaky door open.

"Hey," she responded, similar in tone to how he'd answered the same greeting earlier, and it made his stomach turn.

Was she doing it on purpose?

Spencer took cautious steps towards her, stepping around the bed and clearing off the books scrambled on his side so he could take their place. "What are you reading?"

Rather than speaking, she tilted the book so he could see the cover and then returned to her position, eyes scanning the pages, and he couldn't tell if she was doing it to mess with him or if she was truly invested.

"Okay... Well, um... I'm finished now, i—if you wanted to, um..."

When Y/N finally took her eyes off the pages, she looked at him up and down as he sat on the bed... She took in his apologetic eyes, the slight pout on his lips that she could never resist...

And then she resisted him. Sort of.

"Eh, sure. Just let me finish this chapter first."

She sounded utterly bored.

And once again, Spencer wasn't sure if it was genuine or if she was just doing it to get back at him. But either way, it made him feel bad about before. He wanted to respect her wishes, grant her the time to finish reading just as she'd granted it to him... But he also wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was.

"Oh... Okay." He laid down next to her and watched her face as she read, her eyes occasionally blinking, mimicking the butterflies in his stomach at the sight before him. Even if she was mad at him, she was still absolutely stunning, and he was never going to take it for granted.

His fingers reached out to brush some of the hair from her eyes so he could see her better, and despite herself, she smiled a little, gently leaning into his touch.

That's my way in...

"I'm really sorry, Y/N... For ignoring you. I was just really caught up in the book and I—"

"Babe, it's fine," she dismissed, like it wasn't ever a big deal in the first place. "Trust me, I totally get it now. This is so good..."

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes were roaming the words again, her bottom lip tucking gently between her teeth as she turned a page.

Oh... so she wasn't just messing with me, then...

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he sighed a little, truly unsure where to go from here. "Oh... Well... I'm glad you like it?"

She hummed, barely acknowledging him, and it amused him to his very core. So much so that he couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her cheek out of habit. And when she scrunched her nose, barely brushing off his touch, he started feeling a bit more devious. So he kissed her again, this time on the jaw, and then again and again trailing down her neck. And he stayed there, sucking small marks into her skin while she remained in her position.

He remembered what he saw when he opened the door, and the thoughts swirling around in his head begged him to utilize it.

He really wanted to be polite and let her finish reading... But also...

Spencer shifted, leaving the bed only to return on the other end, with no pants as he crawled up in between her legs on his knees. Seeing as she wasn't going to move her legs at all, he settled for running his hands gently over them, tracing every dip and curve they took, all the way down to the back of her thigh, which was out and exposed as it was aiding in resting her ankle over her other knee.

When he got close to her exposed pussy, she shivered a little. "You're distracting me..."

The obvious teasing that laced her words sent a smile to his lips. He couldn't see her face for a moment, but then she angled the book down and peered over it, giving him eyes that challenged, Do it and see what happens...

So, without breaking eye contact, Spencer gently ran his finger along the opening of her wet cunt and watched as she flung the book back up to her face, hiding it from view. He played with her clit for a while, circling it gently with his thumb while his middle finger slowly slipped in and out of her.

Y/N whined. "That's not fair... At least when I was interrupting you, I didn't try to give you a handjob..."

Spencer hummed in agreement, removing his fingers from her and bringing them to his lips. "Hmm, I suppose you're right..."

So how am I going to make it even...

He took his dick out of his underwear then, holding it in his hand and resisting the urge to slip it inside of her. Instead, he settled for the small gap between her thighs, a whine escaping him once he realized it was nowhere near the amount of stimulation he'd get from anything else.

His hips snapped forward urgently as he chased some form of release, frustrated at how it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

"Not so fun, is it?" Y/N sang, flipping a page amusedly once he'd let out another exasperated whine.

"What's to stop me from just fucking you?" he hissed, gripping her legs and trying his hardest to be patient.

"You won't... Because you won't learn your lesson otherwise."

Now she was messing with him. She was punishing him for ignoring her, and he breathed a laugh, knowing he should have seen it coming. But he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he was well and truly aware that he deserved this.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

Spencer's whimpering increased tenfold, though, once she took a little pity on him and squeezed her legs tighter, giving him more friction and bringing him closer to the edge.

"O—oh my g—od..."

It happened so fast. One second he was relieved at this new wave of pleasure and the next he was pulled underneath it, his lower half tensing, pulsing, and burning hot. God, she was warm... And wet, and tight, but in a completely different way than normal, and it all was too much.

Her thighs and lower stomach were covered in cum, and that thought alone was enough to keep him going. He was overstimulated and probably should have refrained, but the silky, warm skin of her thighs just felt so good gliding over his dick, he just couldn't.

By now, Y/N had completely tossed the book aside, watching in awe as Spencer seemed unaware of her actions. His eyes were shut tightly, so focused on coming again, and the head of his cock peeked out through the gap in her thighs with every thrust forward, glistening and nearly red...

And then he was coming again, and she watched as the milky substance spilled out over her skin. A strand of it dripped slowly down the front of her left thigh, and the sight made her whine.

Spencer opened his eyes then, an overwhelming kernel of love and adoration blooming through his chest as he watched her watch him.

And then everything slowed.

He shoved the book off the bed and laid down beside her, looking down to admire his work.

"Fuck," is all he said, in one huff.

He was clearly pleased with himself, a fact which made Y/N beam. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

With a vigorous nod, he reached a hand out to spread some of the mess around, his fingers gliding slowly and softly over the planes and curves of her still-crossed legs.

"We have to do that again... Though, I could do without the 'you punishing me' part..."

Y/N let out a laugh, grabbing his wrist and bringing his fingers to her mouth. She darted her tongue out to taste, slowly dragging the tip along the underside of his middle finger before taking it fully in her mouth.

"Don't give me a reason to punish you, then," she quipped back after letting his finger go with a soft pop and tilting her head to look at him.

That look in her eyes, the one that always gave him butterflies, elicited another heavy nod.

"Deal."

———

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monochromemedic · 3 years

Text

I had been stuck in the Dark World for who knows how long. The days didn’t seem to matter down here. No sun, no moon, just the vibrant green grid that coated the sky that would twitch and surge with occasional frequency. When I first got here, I fought hard to get back to the surface, to fight for any sense of normalcy, for home but after a while the dream began to fade. The options began to run dry when compared to the dangers that surrounded me. And so I settled. I survived. I searched for food, begged for shelter from kind Darkners. I did what I had to to live. The Queen was not an option. Whispers from Darkners told me how I was just what she was looking for, that would help her expand her reign to the Light World. As much as that would probably help me, I didn’t want to ruin the lives of others for the chance to see my family, as much as I missed them with every passing minute. The sound of bustling cars and the blinding lights of neon signs stung my senses, my palms pressing into my eyes to drown out what I could. Damn it this place never slept did it? There was always something, some sort of noise. Whatever bags I had under my eyes were probably made cartoonishly drastic with the lack of pure rest I was getting. ‘Supose it was better then being dead... My body felt heavy, and I knew I’d have to find a place to rest or I’d fall asleep mid crossing of a road and get run over by one of those goofy cars I’d seen. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad... I recalled the time one of the car’s rear bumped into a fire hydrant (or at least I thought it was) and made a squeaking sound. The darkness of a certain alley called to me, the silence a sweet lullaby to the roaring around me. Was it dangerous? Oh yeah. Was it stupid? No shit. Was I going to do it? The shadows the engulfed me were perfect and if it wasn’t for the underlying stench of garbage it’d probably be ideal. Still beggars couldn’t be choosers and if tonight was good enough I would have to consider having this as my permanent sleeping spot. My back slid against the cool wall across from the dumpster, eyes half lidded as they read the advertisements littering above. Why the hell did the Queen have ads anyway, if she wanted she could monopolize any products she wanted... Despite the quiet I couldn’t shake the feeling that creeped down my spine. The presence of something other then myself around me. I tried to close my eyes, I was in the city after all. It’d be concerning if I didn’t feel like people were one second from crawling up my ass. Though I had to admit I didn’t expect to actually feel something begin to touch me. My eyes snapped open, elbow prodding into a blurry shape that yelped and tumbled backward, it’s grasp my on shoulder tearing a hole in my already worn shirt in the struggle. “Hey! What the hell?!” I barked, standing over the perpetrator. My shoulders slumped when I saw what looked to be a doll staring up at me with wide eyes, an over exaggerated smile permanently spread across it’s face. The creature’s jaw opened wider with a clack, it’s small body shooting upwards to stand on it’s small pointed feet. “WOAH WOAH WOAHAH- [Live worms]!” The darkner’s voice was deafeningly loud, a shrill tone that cut the air like newly sharpened blades. “ I THOUGHT YOU WERE [Roadkill]. NICE TO KNOW I WON’T BE [Sleeping with the fishes] T0NIGHT!!” Well he had a certain way of speaking that was obvious. What the hell was going on with him, he talked like he was constantly being cut of random clips of other people speaking. He talked like a youtube poop or any other shitpost that would randomly shove memes into them for a quick laugh. “You thought I was dead? I was just... I was... uh.” I looked around me, eyeing the dirt and debris. “I was... going to sleep... here.” Dammit, telling people I had to sleep in such ratty places were always a blow to the ego but I suppose it was better then saying ‘Oh I was just sitting down here to die’ The puppet shook his head and waltzed over to the dumpster, his small hand smacking the side with a sense of pride. “ [Finders keepers, losers weepers] HUMAN, YOU PICKED A GOOD SPOT. TOO BAD [so sadd] I GOT HERE FIRST. THOUGH FOR A DEAL I SUPPOSE I COULD [Share the love~]” “Got here first... what are you talking about?” The Darkner let out a laugh, distorted echoes filling the air as he leapt inside, a solitary hand popping out to beg me to come closer. This was a terrible idea, but despite my best judgement I followed, and witnessed what I could only describe to be a makeshift bed inside. The puppet laid on top of musty mats and raggedy rugs, a single stained pillow resting just beneath his head. My god was he living in here? The creature continued his laugh, lurching only a few inches away from my face. “ [Sweet deal] ISN’T IT? J3ALOUS, [baby]?” I shirked back, cheeks reddening at the tone of his last word. I was most defiantly not jealous, in fact I was filled with remorse, something his pride did not help with. “It’s... uh something. I guess this means I’ll have to find another alleyway um, sorry for bothering you-” “SPAMTON.” “What?” His hand shot out towards my chest, fingers wiggling for a handshake. “SP-SPA MTON G SPAMTON, [Number 1 rated salesmen 1997]” He announced, an extra flair of bravado laced his titled. His hand was surprisingly warm for what it was made of but nothing that would be described as body temperature. “Jenna. Also 1997.” “WHAT A YEAR. LISTEN LIGHT nER, I AM DEALSMAN [yes/no?]” “Um... y-yes? I don’t-” “THEN LET ME MAKE A DEAL YEAH? FOR ONLY [many] KROMER, YOU MAY STAY IN MY [Privately owned] ALLEY. IT’S A REAL [steal] YOU’RE ROBBING ME [deaf] HERE!” My brows furrowed as I searched his face for any context clues for what the hell he was trying to say. Kromer? What the fuck was ‘kromer’? The only thing I knew of currency down here was dark dollars not kromer... even if he did ask for dark dollars he didn’t name a price, he just said many. And the amount of dark dollars I had was zero. “Uh I don’t have kromer. I don’t even have dark dollars I’m kinda broke Spamton, in case you couldn’t tell from uh...” I trailed off realizing saying that sleeping in an alley wasn’t a very smart thing to say to someone who slept in an alley. He seemed surprised by my words, beginning to tug on my coat, flipping my pockets to see if I was really lying. I had to push his mitts off me a couple of times, to which he eventually got the idea the way his hands began to rub at his extended jaw. “NO KROMER... WHAT CAN YOU DO?” “What do you mean?” He seemed to sense my change in tone, his grin beginning to wobble nervously “[Whoopsie daisy!] LET ME START AGAIN. DO YOU HAVE A [trade]? A [skill] TO [Exchange for goods and services]?” he croaked. I eyed the ground, rubbing the back of my neck. What the hell was I good at again? “I mean, I can draw, I suppose...” “ARTIST? WOW OWOW!” Spamton’s face lit up before digging in the dumpster, pulling out a few napkins and a ball point pen and shoving them into my hands. “WHAT A [trade] TELL YOU WHAT. YOU DRAW A [one-of-a-kind masterpiece] AND YOU CAN STAY THE NIGHT!” “You’ll let me stay... if I draw something for you on this napkin. Am I getting that right?” The doll nodded feverishly, basically hovering over my shoulder as I played with the pen. This was certainly the weirdest way to pay someone that I could imagine... well no but one that was in the realm of reality. I had to ask Spamton to give me some space a few time, the feeling of his breath on my neck making me more then nervous as I drew. God he was like those kids in school that would ask for drawings but ten times worse with the amount of personal space he’d give you. Besides I needed something to draw and with nothing on the mind why not draw the most interesting thing in front of me. I held the finished doodle out to Spamton only to have it snatched out of my fingers so fast I swore we could have started a fire. “WOAH...” The puppet sank inside of the dumpster, his face softening as for once in what seemed like forever the alley way grew silent. “THIS IS... ME?” “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t know what to draw, you kind of put me on the spot. Besides everyone likes drawings of themselves right?” I shrugged, being pulled away from my thoughts by an overdramatic sniffle. Was he... crying? Not quite, just damn well close. Spamton’s shoulders quaked as a warm smile returned to his cheeks, slipping the napkin into his pocket with glee. “SO GOOD... THANK YOU.” “It’s really nothing, honestly that was a pretty shitty drawing.” “WHAT? YOU’RE [&#!^]ING ME! THAT WAS [BIG SHOT]” He was screaming again, hands gesturing wildly about. “It wasn’t but thank you. I wish I was better to be honest. I’m not very happy with my art, not at all.” I turned away from his gaze, unsure of why I was overcome by a choking sensation building my throat. Why the hell was I telling this stranger this sort of stuff anyway? I mean I could hazard a guess it was the fact that this was the longest conversation I had had with anyone since I had gotten down here but with how things were it could be some magic power the doll possessed to tell him my deepest darkest secrets. “YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS [Big?]” “No.” “WHY NOT?” “I don’t know. I just... I think it doesn’t look the way I want it to. Doesn’t look good to me, and I don’t know how to fix it. Which I guess is a little funny considering how long I’ve been drawing. Just keep... drawing and drawing and never improving, least not how I’d like. It’s just garbage to me.” Spamton’s face seemed to fall, his glasses fading to a dark inky black. “YOU FEEL? NO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO? YOUR [passion]?” “Yeah.” A laugh ripped from his chest, his head lolling back with each chuckle. I felt my soul began to crack, a shame flooding my body with how hard he seemed to laugh. Did he find this funny? Humorous? I felt tears prick my eyes as I snapped my head back to glare at him, his head glitching back to stare back at me. “YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME, JENNA. A [slime] A REAL [slime]!” With a quick motion the puppet jumped to the ground, his hand resting against my arm as he spoke. “YOU’RE A REAL [BIG SHOT] YOU KNOW THAT? STAY AS LONG AS YOUR [Greasy little heart] DESIRES!” Well... that was unexpected. He’d really let me stay here as long as I want cause I was pathetic? Or did he just feel sorry for me? What was going on? And why was he calling me a slime... or us a slime? “Oh... uh thanks? I didn’t think I was being much of a big shot whatever that is but I apricate it. Really.” His head clacked with every little nod, leading me to a pile of cardboard boxes and patting them with the grace of a car salesman. “BEST [Seat in the house] ALL FOR YOU. [Night night forever]!” Spamton beamed, awkwardly swaying side to side before stumbling back to the dumpster a few inches away and crawling inside of it, much like a wild animal. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. This guy was weird. Kinda creepy but also kind of funny. I honestly couldn’t pinpoint a feeling on him but at least he didn’t want to hurt me just make weird ass deals and make me ‘big’. Did that mean famous? Was this guy so into my art he wanted to be some sort of manager? I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn, the excitement of the day finally beginning to fade. God I forgot how tired I was, that little guy made me feel like I was gonna go into fight or flight. “Hey Spamton?” “YES?” his voice echoed from inside the metal container. “...Thank you.”

#self insert #spamton #vent #idk im just thinking #just wanted something to do

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

Text

Summer Wedding - Stucky

Grouping - Stucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. smut including unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), public teasing, oral sex (m receiving), spit roasting, minor knife play and other stuff I'm sure I forgot.

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting for my summer celebration and it was actually written for boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge. Not as um...descriptive as I'd intended on making it but I like it. Enjoy.

Word count: 3544

***

The wedding was beautiful, even you had to admit that. It was a relatively simple affair as these things went, though you were certain your uncle had spent several thousands on the flowers that seemed to dot every surface of the grounds of his estate. At least he’d kept your cousin from having a large church wedding this time. There was only so many times that was acceptable anyway, right?

A sigh slid from your lips and you sipped at your drink. You never should have come to this wedding. You weren’t in the mood for it. No, you should have made up an excuse about being sick and stayed home. The only reason you hadn’t was the fact you had no desire to listen to your mother bitch at you for the next six months for missing a family event. Just the thought had you rolling your eyes.

You’d actually been looking forward to the wedding until last week. That’s when you discovered your boyfriends were going on a mission and would not be back in time to accompany you. Not only did you hate going to weddings alone, but you’d already gone through the ordeal of explaining to your aunt why you need a plus two instead of a plus one. And she certainly hadn’t kept that information to herself. Half the damn day had been spent answering questions about your relationship from nosy family members.

Speaking of…Your cousin Natalie sat down in one of the empty chairs that flanked you. She smirked and sipped at her champagne. “So, where are your dates, Y/N?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Too much more of that and you’d have a raging migraine. Instead, you kept your gaze on the dance floor and took another sip of your drink. “They had to work.”

“I just find it interesting that you all but beg mother for an extra seat and here they both are. Empty.” She eyed you, waiting for a reaction you had no intention of giving her. “I mean, why lie? It’s kind of pathetic.”

You finally turned your head to her. “Shouldn’t you be doing something wedding-ish? You are the maid of honor, aren’t you? Oh, that’s right, you aren’t in the wedding party, are you?” You sucked a breath through your teeth in mock sympathy. “Sorry.”

There was certain to be a reason why Natalie wasn’t part of her only sisters third wedding, but you didn’t care beyond the fact it was sure to be a sore spot. Frankly, Natalie had always been a bitch, even when you were children. Though, unlucky in the marriage department, her sister Sally had always been your preferred cousin. Maybe Sally had finally gotten tired of dealing with her sister’s shit.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and leaned toward you. “I don’t believe you could get one man to put up with you, let alone two. No one does. We actually had a pool going over whether either of them would show up. And if they did, whether they’d leave with you since you’d probably paid them to be here. I mean, most people just make up one boyfriend. Two really takes the cake. You never could stand not being the center of attention.”

The irony wasn’t lost you that most of your family had no idea you worked with the Avengers. Nor had you mentioned the names of those two boyfriends of yours. Real attention seeker you were. You chanced a glance at your phone to check the time. You had at least another hour before you could leave without a lecture from your mother. You also had zero messages from your boys. Hopefully, that meant they were taking care of business and would be home soon.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” your cousin started whisper yelling from beside you as she froze in her chair. Her eyes were wide and slightly crazed.

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Even as you waited for an answer, your trained ear picked up murmurs beginning amongst the other guests.

When you went to look over your shoulder, Natalie gripped your hand. “Don’t turn around,” she said through clenched teeth. When you went to do it anyway, she snapped again. “Don’t. They’ll see you staring.”

“Who?” Your tone was clipped as irritation crawled through you.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes just walked in,” she hissed, her gaze locked on them. So apparently she was allowed to stare but you weren’t. By this point, everyone else would be staring as well. The boys were used to it.

You snatched your hand away from your cousin and spun in your seat. As soon as you saw them, a smile covered your face. They had been so certain they wouldn’t be back in time. You knew they’d pushed themselves to be here for you. You ran your gaze over them, taking in the rare sight of them in suits. Even though you’d helped them pick them out, you still licked your lips at the sight.

Steve wore a beautiful bright blue suit that you knew brought out his eyes even though they were currently hidden behind sunglasses. Buck’s suit looked light blue but it was actually a thin blue pin stripe. Both of them looked incredible as always, but you always got a little thrill seeing them dressed up. Of course, that feeling was mutual.

They hadn’t seen you yet, but they were scanning the crowd as they moved across the vast grounds of your uncle’s estate. When your uncle moved to greet them, you stood as well.

Natalie grabbed at your arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to embarrass me.”

Yeah, she didn’t need any help with that. You shook her off and started toward your men. Both of them immediately locked onto your presence and wide smiles greeted you. Your uncle got to them before you could. Steve shifted his attention to speak with him, but Buck’s attention was 100% on you. His gaze trailed over you from head to toe and his eyes darkened.

“We’re extremely honored that you’re here. How did you hear about the wedding?” you heard your uncle ask. He was one of the politer members of your family.

“They’re with me, Uncle Frank,” you said as soon as you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. “Sorry they’re late. They were working.”

Frank turned to you, his mouth slightly agape and his brows lifted. “These are the dates Margie wouldn’t stop going on about?” Margie was his wife and the aunt you had to beg for the extra seat.

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, I certainly hope so or this is going to turn awkward in a moment,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He opened his arms in invitation and you stepped into them. “Missed you, doll.”

You nuzzled against his chest briefly, careful not to transfer your makeup to his shirt. “I missed you, too. So much. I’m glad you’re home.”

There was a tug on your arm and you were pulled into Steve’s embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, soldier.” You turned to look at your uncle who was still staring in stunned silence. “Steve, Bucky, this is my Uncle Frank. Father of the bride.”

Both of your boys shook his hand and thanked him for allowing them to come. He hurried back to his table, undoubtedly to announce this strange turn of events. You fell into step with your boyfriends, taking their hands in yours while you walked in the middle. You led them over to your table to find Natalie still in Bucky’s seat.

“Natalie,” you said to get her attention. When she continued to gape at the two men you said her name again.

She smiled at you as if you were her favorite person in the world certain there was an introduction in her future. “Yes, cousin?”

“You’re in his seat.”

She blinked at you for a second before her face twisted in anger. She scrambled from the chair and stormed back to her table with a toss of her head. Steve and Buck chuckled as they took their seats on either side of you. They slid their chairs as close to you as they could get. “Are you two hungry? We already had dinner but I could find you something.”

Bucky squeezed your thigh. “We ate. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you two made it,” your mother’s voice caught your attention and you turned to find her standing next to Steve. He stood to greet her and you leaned against Bucky, knowing he wouldn’t care to do the same. “If I had to listen to one more person say she made you up I was going to scream,” she admitted as she hugged Steve. That earned another low chuckle from Bucky.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said, managing to sound sincere. Not that he disliked your mother, but they’d just returned from a mission. All they wanted to do was stay home for a couple of days and destress. But they’d come here for you and they would be on their best behavior.

“We won’t be staying long, mom. They just got home,” you informed her and braced yourself for an argument.

Instead, she nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Just make sure to introduce them to Sally before you leave.”

You groaned. “Can’t I just do it at her next wedding?”

“Y/N!” she snapped but you caught the twitch at the corner of her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh beside you while Steve shot you a chastising look. You smiled. “I will, momma.”

She left and Bucky turned to speak in your ear as Steve sat back down. “We don’t have to leave, baby girl.” The nickname shot a thrill up your spine. “I love weddings. The food. The dancing. The clothes. Like this little number you have on. I really love this dress, doll.” You wore a white sundress with tiny blue flowers on it to match their suits that fell a few inches above your knees. It was the first time either of them had seen it.

Steve’s arm settled across the back of your chair and his fingers played with your hair. “Yeah, that dress is something special. It might be a bit too short, though,” he said without glancing at you. Instead, he seemed to be keeping an eye on the crowd around you.

“It’s not too short.” You loved the dress and thought it was perfect.

“Yeah, Stevie. If anything, it’s not short enough.” Bucky’s fingers dragged your dress up your thigh, bunching it up in his hand as he went.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” you hissed.

“I told you I missed you, doll. I want to show you how much.”

You placed a hand on his, stopping his movement. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, we are. We talked about it all the way home,” Steve answered. He lowered his mouth to speak in your ear. “Talked about how we wanted to please you in front of everyone. With everyone watching because you know their eyes are glued to our table trying to figure out how we managed to land a beautiful gal like you.”

You snorted a laugh that cut off in a gasp as Bucky pulled your dress further up your thigh. “I don’t think that’s what they’re thinking, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the patch of skin behind your ear. “How come he gets Steve and I got Barnes?”

“He’s not the one actively trying to feel me up at my cousin’s wedding.” Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed your inner thigh. Sweat beaded your skin and you wondered if you could blame it on the heat even though it was ten degrees cooler than it had been earlier.

“But it was all his idea,” Buck whispered.

Your eyes flew open to shoot a glare at the blond’s head. “Steven Grant Rogers, What would your mother say?”

Buck laughed, drawing the attention of some of the few people that weren’t already staring. “She’d probably say, ‘good going, Stevie’. She would have loved you.”

“Would—” All ability to finish your sentence or to have a rational thought fled from you when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your folds. Fuck.

“She’s already soaking wet for us, Steve. Such a good girl,” Bucky cooed.

Steve’s hand fisted on the back of your chair as he glanced around again. “I was wrong. I don’t have the patience for this. I need to be buried in her.” He slid his sunglasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. He turned to face you, blue eyes burning into you. “You have exactly two minutes to find us someplace private or we’re going to finger fuck you right here until you scream. Your choice, princess.”

In less than a minute, you’d sent a text on your phone and jumped to your feet. Taking their hands in yours, you dragged them toward the house. You pulled them through the large home until you reached a familiar door on the main level. Opening it, you shoved the super soldiers inside. You locked the door behind you and turned to find them already loosening their ties.

“We don’t have time for that,” you argued with a wave of your hands. “I told Uncle Frank we were borrowing his office for an important phone call. We have twenty minutes tops.”

Bucky groaned. “I wanted to take my time with you. I missed you,” he nearly whined.

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “We can take all the time you want later, baby. Right now, just fuck me.” That had him groaning again, an entirely different sound this time.

Steve, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He grabbed a cushion from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “All fours, princess.” He was already undoing his belt by the time you dropped to your knees. He moved behind you and pushed your dress up to give himself a clear view of your ass. He ran his hand over it before giving you a light swat. The mild sting was still enough to have you shifting.

“These have got to go,” he said tugging on the side of your panties. “Buck?”

You glanced up to see Bucky grin as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Steve. He traced your spine with the back of the blade causing you to hiss and arch your back. The sensation only doubled when he moved from cloth to bare skin. The cold steel on your flesh sent tremors through you but you weren’t scared. Far from it. “I think she likes that, Stevie,” Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’ll have to remember that.”

Steve merely hummed before slicing through both sides of your panties and pulling them off as he handed the knife back to his friend. His hand immediately cupped you and his fingers dipped into your soaking wet folds. “Christ, Y/N. I hope you’re ready for me, baby.”

The head of his cock nudged your entrance as if asking for permission but that only lasted a moment. A second later, Steve surged forward filling you with his length. You moaned at the familiar sensation and clawed at the carpet. He paused, giving you time to adjust then he was thrusting into you in long, slow strokes. “Don’t tease,” you ordered.

Steve laughed and increased his speed. When you groaned, Bucky was there rubbing the tip of his cock across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked at him greedily, needing to taste him while Steve railed you from behind. Only when you had both of them inside of you did you feel complete. Whole. Whatever the fuck was wrong with you, you hoped there was no cure. You would gladly die like this.

The feeling of both of them moving in and out had a perfectly sinful, wanton moan coming from you. The vibration ran along the length of Bucky’s cock and he grunted. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair and his speed increased. Steve mirrored his pace and it didn’t take long for the office to fill with lurid grunts and the sweaty, sweet smell of sex.

Soon, you were so lost in sensation you became little more than a vessel for them to use as you climbed to your peak. Their rhythm stuttered and you knew they were close. You clenched your walls around Steve and were rewarded with a hiss and his grip on your hips tightening. At the same time, you sucked harder on Bucky and ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he bit out. “I’m close. Cum, baby girl. Come on.”

Steve’s fingers found your clit. Two seconds later you were screaming around the cock in your mouth as your cunt clutched greedily at the one in your pussy. Fuck. Bucky came next, his load shooting into your mouth and down your throat. As you swallowed his offering, Steve filled you with his cum. You felt it leak around him and drip to the floor.

They pulled out of you at the same time and you collapsed to your side. “Holy shit,” you said between pants causing your boys to laugh.

“Holy shit’s right. Damn,” Bucky agreed. Your eyes followed his movements as he tucked himself back into his pants and put himself to rights. Before you could turn to Steve, you felt fabric between your legs cleaning you up.

A glance showed him wiping away his cum with the remnants of your panties. He gave you a wicked grin. “Can’t have you leaking all over your cousin’s wedding, now can we?”

Your face heated as you thought about all the times they’d made you walk around with their cum leaking out of you. Apparently, that wasn’t appropriate for a wedding but was fine everywhere else. Steve stood and pulled his pants up before doing up his belt. He held out a hand to you. “Let’s get you fixed up, sweetheart.”

They’d barely done anything and looked like they had when you walked into the room. You, on the other hand, probably looked like you’d gone a couple of rounds with a rabid raccoon. Stupid men. Steve made sure your dress was laying correctly so everything was covered while Bucky did the same thing behind you. They both fiddled with your hair for a moment before declaring you gorgeous.

You narrowed your gaze at them, not buying it for a moment. The three of you quickly put the office to rights. There was nothing you could do about the smell of sex in the air but hopefully it would dissipate before your uncle needed to use it.

“Seriously, baby girl. You look fantastic,” Buck insisted when he noticed you fidgeting.

“Yeah, but you guys like it when I look freshly fucked,” you said as you opened the door. There was a mirror in the hallway you used to check your appearance. You actually didn’t look that bad, but you definitely looked a little wild. You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t care. “All right, we’re saying hello to the bride, then we’re leaving.”

“No argument here.” Steve took your hand in his and Buck did the same thing on the other side.

When the three of you made it outside, you headed straight for the head table. “Sally, this is Steve and Bucky. Boys, this is my cousin Sally and her new husband Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Steve greeted with a smile. Sally launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came to my wedding,” she squealed before letting go of him to hug Bucky. His eyes begged you to help him but you just smiled. Sally was a bit flighty but she was good people.

She hugged you last. “You should have told me, Y/N. I would have sat you closer to the front.”

“It’s okay, Sally. We have to go. Congratulations,” you said then let her go. When you did, you found that most of the family had come to get introductions or say their farewells. Nicole tried to go in for a hug, but Steve subtly made sure it was nothing more than a handshake. The fact you didn’t introduce her was enough to tell them she wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to know.

When she tried to hug Bucky, you intercepted and hugged her instead. “It was good seeing you, Nicole.”

“You have some explaining to do,” she said in a low voice as she hugged you tighter than necessary. When she released you, she continued to stand by you.

You watched Bucky and Steve say goodbye to your mother and uncle before they turned to you. You held up a finger to tell them you’d be right with them and leaned sideways to get closer to your cousin. “So, just out of curiosity, did anyone in the pool have them fucking me during the reception?”

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #here be lemons #knife play #hot girl summer challenge #marvel fanfic

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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years

Text

Non-despair AU! And ever since I watched that thirty minute anime clip with Nagito’s perspective on things, I’ve really liked the idea of him being buds with Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko. And Nagito openly talks about his past trauma on a plane so… what better way to bond than bonding over trauma? Anyway, I love these three so much. Also Komahina because I love them - Circle

(Also forgot to add this, sorry, but it’s on AO3 too) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33483538

Warning: descriptions of panic attacks, nausea, motion sickness, very mild vomiting (like barely any).

Fuyuhiko always thought Nagito was spouting a whole load of bullshit when he lamented about his talent being useless; he would’ve loved having Ultimate Luck right now.

“Haha! You got the short straw, Fuyuhiko!” Akane crowed. “Tough luck!”

“Wait, no! Can’t we do a best of three?”

“Somebody has to sit with them, man,” Nekomaru said. “You guys are already friends, it’ll be a great bonding experience.”

“I don’t want to bond with them in that situation. Because you all know it’ll be a shit show. That’s why we’re fucking doing this,” Fuyuhiko growled, glaring at each of his classmates in turn. Only two were missing, the pair who’d triggered this whole unfortunate drawing of straws in the first place.

“Why can’t you sit with them, Hajime? Nagito is always hanging off you anyway. And Kazuichi is your friend too,” Fuyuhiko said.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Fuyuhiko.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I didn’t draw the short straw.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Fuyuhiko stomped away, his classmates’ laughter echoing behind him. This class trip was already more trouble than it was worth and it hadn’t even started. He was almost tempted to skip the plane journey with the rest of them and hop on a different flight to Novoselic, just to show them. It wasn’t like he needed Sonia to pay his way. But she’d been so enthusiastic about taking her friends to see her home country, and Fuyuhiko couldn’t think of any way to tell her without causing offence. He couldn’t really say he just didn’t want to be stuck babysitting Kazuichi and Nagito on a flight.

It wasn’t that Fuyuhiko didn’t like Kazuichi and Nagito. Sure, Kazuichi could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, and Nagito would go all weird and self-deprecating if you didn’t watch out, but Fuyuhiko still considered them close friends. But the flight to Novoselic was long. Kazuichi could get motion sickness on a fucking bicycle, and Nagito hadn’t set foot on a plane since his parents died on one right in front of his eyes. There was no way it could possibly go well. Fuyuhiko pictured hour after hour of Kazuichi puking and complaining and Nagito… well, he wasn’t sure what the hell Nagito would do. He’d never seen Nagito get flustered before. Hell, that was much more terrifying. He had to get out of this.

In the days before the trip, Fuyuhiko kept trying to convince his kinder classmates to take responsibility for at least one of the other men. “It’s gonna be impossible to help them both,” Fuyuhiko said. “It’ll be better for them if you help me.”

“You could sit between them,” Mahiru said. “And I’ve already promised Hiyoko I’ll sit with her. Sorry.”

Asking Twogami was a no-go too. “It’ll be more considerate to the other passengers if they’re both in one area,” he said. “To limit the disturbance if they become distressed.”

“I’m the one who’ll be feeling fucking distressed,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

Peko overheard, and came over at once. “I’ll take your burden, young master.”

“No, not you!” Fuyuhiko hated the whine in his tone - and he hated the smirk on Twogami’s face too. “You don’t have to do it. You sit with Gundham and pet his hamsters or something. I… I want you to be happy,” he mumbled, blushing fiercely.

Damn it. He could be as bad as Kazuichi sometimes.

There was no way to wriggle out of it. The morning of the trip dawned bright and sunny, and Fuyuhiko’s ticket set him directly between Kazuichi and Nagito. Fantastic.

At least check-in and security went by reasonably peacefully, the walk to their gate quiet. Only Akane and Nekomaru seemed to be properly awake this early in the day, and they stuck with each other. Fuyuhiko glanced at his two friends. Kazuichi still seemed half-asleep, curled on one of the uncomfortable chairs by the gate, watching the planes take off and land in the distance through the huge windows. Nagito was much more concerning. He was smiling brightly… but he didn’t look happy at all.

“Hey, Fuyuhiko, want to know how a plane engine works?” Kazuichi asked.

“No,” he said, but he sat down with a sigh as Kazuichi started talking anyway. He tuned out after a second, though Nagito looked like he was listening.

“Seeing you talk about your ultimate talent is so inspiring, Kazuichi,” Nagito said - and smiled. That weird smile again, desperate and strained.

“It’s nothing. I just think planes are interesting. From an engineering point of view. I really wish I didn’t have to fucking ride one,” Kazuichi groaned.

“Aha, I can’t help feeling apprehensive too. The last time I was on a flight, both my parents died.” Nagito spoke emotionlessly, as if reciting a shopping list, but that smile was still fixed on his face. “But it’s okay. That bad luck brought me a lot of good luck later on. You just have to have hope that things will work out.”

Kazuichi stared at him, mouth open. “Um. Okay. Sorry.” He caught Fuyuhiko’s eye and mouthed what the fuck? Fuyuhiko wasn’t sure if Kazuichi was just now hearing the story or if he was confused by Nagito’s weird behaviour. He shrugged helplessly.

There wasn’t much conversation after that. You couldn’t really carry on your casual chit-chat right after somebody brought up their dead parents. Fuyuhiko kept an eye on Nagito. He was bolt upright in his seat, his eyes staring straight ahead, hands clasped so tight in his lap his knuckles bleached white. With his pale hair and ashen face, he looked like all the blood had drained out of him completely.

Their flight number was called far too soon, and Fuyuhiko dragged his motley crew to the right aisle, pondering where to put everyone. Kazuichi should probably be on the end if he’d be passing vomit bags to some poor stewardess. Fuyuhiko needed to be in the middle, so that left Nagito by the window. He’d have to keep the shutter pulled down.

Hajime passed them on the way to his own seat, and stopped short when he saw Nagito’s face. He leaned right over Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko, ignoring their complaints and curses, and took Nagito’s hand. “Are you alright? You look… off.”

“Don’t worry about me, Hajime.”

“Your hands are clammy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. How disgusting for you,” Nagito said, smiling. Always smiling.

“That’s not what I meant… Look, do you want to sit with me?”

“Can we move it along please?” somebody called irritably down the aisle.

“You’re holding up the line, Hajime. Don’t worry about me,” Nagito repeated. Hajime looked like he was worrying dreadfully, but he was forced to move along. Nagito clasped his hands again and fixed his gaze on the seat in front, smiling smiling smiling. It was freaking Fuyuhiko out. He looked like he was wearing a mask and his eyes were the only real part of him, swirling with turmoil.

“Hey.” Kazuichi nudged Fuyuhiko’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Are Hajime and Nagito… you know. A thing?”

“Mate, you told me you’ve seen them leave Hajime’s cabin together in the mornings.”

“They could just be having a sleepover. As bros.”

“I don’t think it’s that, Kazuichi.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t want Hajime to get a new best friend,” Kazuichi said.

Fuyuhiko sighed. “I think you’re safe.”

There was a pause. Then another shoulder nudge a second later. “So Hajime and Nagito? Seriously? Am I the only person on my own in this class?” Kazuichi muttered.

Fuyuhiko was spared from responding by the flight attendants starting the safety briefing, demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks and the life jackets in case of emergency. He had to admit, it was pretty eerie to think that you could, however unlikely it may be, crash into the ocean or need extra oxygen to live long enough to get to land. He glanced over at Nagito nervously. His arms were now curled across his chest, hands gripping his elbows. His head was bent, a cloud of puffy hair hiding his face. Maybe that was for the best.

“Can you try not to puke as long as possible?” Fuyuhiko whispered to Kazuichi. “I feel like I might have a situation to deal with.”

“I’m never trying to puke,” Kazuichi said, but he seemed worried too, glancing past Fuyuhiko. “Hey, Nagito, you doing alright?”

“Don’t worry about me, Kazuichi,” Nagito said, eerily calmly.

“That’s not the same thing as saying you’re fine, is it?” Kazuichi whispered to Fuyuhiko.

“He’s clearly not fucking fine,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“Should I ask Hajime to swap?” Kazuichi asked.

Fuyuhiko nodded, but before Kazuichi could even undo his seatbelt, the plane jerked and started reversing out of the gate. Fuyuhiko heard Nagito draw in his breath sharply - then he was the one fumbling for his seatbelt, standing unsteadily.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Fuyuhiko yelled, catching onto the back of Nagito’s coat as he tried to clamber over the seats. “Sit down!”

“I’m afraid I need to get off,” Nagito said, voice still calm despite his frantic movements.

“It’s already moving, for God’s sake! Sit down before a flight attendant sees you!” It wasn’t hard to force Nagito back into his seat - he seemed light enough for a strong gust of wind to knock him over - and Souda hastily got the belt fastened again just as the plane rolled onto the runway.

“Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine,” Fuyuhiko gabbled, trying hard not to shout or swear or scream at all his classmates for making him deal with this. “Just sit still and… I dunno, plug your ears. The takeoff part is the worst.”

There was a cacophony of whirring as the engines roared to life and Fuyuhiko would be very grateful for all that noise in a second, because Nagito started to laugh. Dry, hysterical laughter, his eyes over-bright and manic, lips bared in that grisly parody of a smile.

“Has he lost his fucking mind?” Kazuichi asked, sounding genuinely frightened.

“You must really hate me, Fuyuhiko,” Nagito gasped. “To restrain me here… You must despise me.”

“I’m not restraining you!”

“Then let me off.” He locked eyes with Fuyuhiko and for a second the manic grin faded. “Please…”

The engines roared to a crescendo and the plane shot forward so quickly everyone was pinned to their seats with the force, zooming on and on until they could feel the entire structure lurch into the air. Kazuichi groaned softly, shutting his eyes, but Fuyuhiko was far more focused on Nagito. He had his eyes squeezed shut too, but his hand clamped hard onto Fuyuhiko’s arm. Really fucking hard. Shit, maybe Nagito wasn’t as weak as he looked. Fuyuhiko cursed as his terrified companion started digging his nails into his skin, actually drawing blood. The pain prompted Fuyuhiko to try prying the hand loose a little, but Nagito clamped on harder, carving several new scratches. Fuyuhiko didn’t dare attempt again; he’d get his arm cut to ribbons.

When the plane was flying high and the swirling, disoriented feeling had eased, Fuyuhiko checked on both men. Kazuichi had his head in his hands, but he gave a shaky thumbs up when Fuyuhiko prodded him.

“‘M okay,” he mumbled. “Got through takeoff. Gets better when it’s levelling out.”

“Right, good. Try to stay that way, yeah? I’ve got a lot to handle right now,” Fuyuhiko sighed. Nagito was still shredding his arm up, but he could feel one finger tapping for attention.

“What? What do you need? Please, no bullshit, Nagito. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do,” Fuyuhiko said. He was practically yelling in his panic, and the people across the aisle turned to glare.

It was several seconds before Nagito could gather enough breath to speak. Fuyuhiko saw that awful smile stretch across his face again, like somebody had twisted his frown the wrong way round. “Aha, I’m sorry to trouble you, Fuyuhiko, but I think I might be having a panic attack.”

“What?” Fuyuhiko felt like he was going to have a panic attack too. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t seem to catch my breath. And the cabin has been spinning for several minutes.”

“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you say anything?” Fuyuhiko hurriedly pushed Nagito’s head down as far as it would go before it bumped the seat in front. “Fucking… think of things you can see or something? Shit, I don’t remember.”

“Five things you can see,” Kazuichi chimed in. “Is he really gonna pass out? Hajime is gonna kill us.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him for leaving this shit to us! How stupid can you get?”

“Ahh, I’m such a nuisance. If I’d known I’d react in such a shameful way, I’d have been sure to take a seat away from all the Ultimates. Why are you taking care of someone like me?”

“Nagito, shut up, this isn’t your fault,” Fuyuhiko said shortly. “Stop babbling on about ultimates and do the panic attack thing. Listen to Kazuichi, he knows how to do it.”

Nagito did as he was told, working through the grounding techniques with Kazuichi while Fuyuhiko held onto his shoulders feeling helpless. Nagito was shaking so hard it was difficult not to drop him altogether. He didn’t pass out, but even after the grounding Nagito looked far from what you’d consider calm. He was grey-white when Fuyuhiko carefully hauled him back upright.

“Are you okay..?”

The smile came back, though it seemed a lot more tired than manic this time. “Ah… I don’t think so, Fuyuhiko.”

“Well. At least you’re honest. Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Physically, I mean. Clearly I see you’re fucked mentally. And please stop smiling like that, you’re creeping me out,” Fuyuhiko said.

Nagito finally released his grip on Fuyuhiko’s arm, his nails coated with blood. He bent forward slowly, carefully, like he was terrified any sudden movements would send him spiralling again, and let his elbows rest on his knees. “I still feel slightly lightheaded. And nauseous. I’d still like to get off.”

Fuyuhiko examined the long scratches on his arm, sighing and mopping the blood with his sleeve. “Well, you’d have a long drop if you tried to get off now. You should cut your damn fingernails too. I’m going to get Hajime.” He turned to Kazuichi. “Watch him for a minute, okay? I don’t fucking care about drawing the short straw anymore, I can’t handle this.” Fuyuhiko scrambled over Kazuichi’s lap into the aisle, ignoring the flight attendant yelling for him to remain in his seat until the seatbelt signs went off.

“Hey! What did you mean drawing the short straw?” Kazuichi called behind him. Fuyuhiko didn’t look back.

“Hajime!” Fuyuhiko yelled when he was still more than six aisles away from the startled man. “You’re swapping with me!” He lowered his voice when he reached Hajime’s seat, but only marginally. “I can’t handle this. I don’t know how you expected Komeada to react to this shit, but whatever you thought, it’s worse. Way fucking worse. And I can’t help him. So go fucking do it yourself.”

“Well, I was going to swap as soon as the seatbelt signs were off,” Hajime said pointedly.

“I don’t give a shit. Look at my arm! Your fucking boyfriend nearly ripped it off at the elbow.” Fuyuhiko brandished his scratched, bloodied arm, and Hajime looked genuinely shocked.

“Oh my God…” He stood up hastily, clinging to the seats in front as the plane was still slightly off-balance. “I’m sorry, Fuyuhiko. I didn’t expect him to panic so much. He never said anything much about it when I asked.”

“Yeah, well, no offence, Hajime, but you can be as thick as three short planks sometimes. So if he implied anything, I don’t doubt you missed it,” Fuyuhiko snapped, taking Hajime’s empty seat - next to Chiaki, thank goodness. She hadn’t even looked up from her Switch this whole time. Perfect.

“I have taken some offence…” Hajime mumbled, then turned to go back down the aisle, trying hard not to catch the eyes of the other passengers staring like they were all part of a circus act. He was pretty sure the whole class was going to get banned from this airline. Gundham had been in trouble already for taking his hamsters out of their little travelling cage - several times. He was insulted by the insistence of the staff that all pets had to be contained, both by their labelling of his hamsters as mere pets and from their implication that his dark devas could ever be contained.

Hajime followed the sounds of more disgruntled passengers to Nagito’s seat. He was in the middle now, hunched over one of those white sick bags, while Kazuichi awkwardly patted his back. He looked relieved to see Hajime, beckoning frantically. “Come help me! I think he’s gonna spew. Weird that it’s not me for once.”

Hajime sighed, struggling to shuffle past his friends to get to Nagito’s other side, squashed by the window. Nagito didn’t acknowledge him. Hajime could see he had his eyes closed, his face strangely calm and smooth, though his breathing was erratic.

“Hey, Nagito? You hearing me?” Hajime called, tapping the other man’s pale cheek.

“Did I drive Fuyuhiko away?” Nagito said, voice strained. “I’m not surprised. To bother the Ultimates with the problems of an insignificant nobody like me.”

“Dude, shut up,” Kazuichi groaned. “Nobody thinks that. Stop being so weird. Fuyuhiko just doesn’t know how to look after people.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up? I doubt you’ll throw up, you wouldn’t eat anything this morning,” Hajime said.

At that exact moment, almost as if to pointedly prove him wrong, Nagito made a choked retching sound and ducked his head down further, cringing.

“Oookay. Or not. Um. You’re okay,” Hajime muttered, placing a wary hand on Nagito’s hair to keep it out of the way. It was strange hair; soft yet thick at the same time, and it poofed up determinedly no matter how many times Ibuki tried him out with different hairstyles.

The seatbelt signs were now off, so Kazuichi stood up hastily, trying to shield Nagito from the people hurrying up the aisle to the bathrooms. Hajime was grateful, but part of him wished he could switch places with Souda. He didn’t think he’d be having to coach Nagito through something so strangely intimate so soon into their… relationship? They’d never come out and actually said they were boyfriends, not even to each other, but their classmates seemed to think they were a couple.

As Nagito really hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, the actual vomiting didn’t last too long, but the dry heaving continued for several agonising minutes, and the nausea remained indefinitely. But Nagito felt safe to lift him head, his pale cheeks dusted with pink. He smiled shakily at Hajime. “How embarrassing. I caused a scene in front of all these people. You must be lamenting the day you set eyes on me.”

“Stop,” Hajime sighed, taking the soiled bag and handing it to Kazuichi.

“Hajime!” Souda squealed, hastily handing it off to a flight attendant, who offered a bottle of water for Nagito in response. Her smile didn’t slip once. Hajime was impressed by her poker face.

“Drink,” Hajime prompted, forcing the bottle into Nagito’s hands. “I want you to try eating something later too. You’re going to pass out.”

Kazuichi sat down again, glancing at Nagito. “You feeling… okay now? Like as okay as you can?”

Nagito took a long drink of water, eyes blank. Then he smiled again, that strange, forced smile. “I really am pathetic, aren’t I? Causing such a dramatic spectacle over something that happened years ago. I don’t deserve such attention from the Ultim-“

“Stop!” Hajime took Nagito’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. Hajime thought he saw something flicker in them, some semblance of an honest emotion. “Nagito, can you please stop trying to act like you don’t have feelings. I know you’re scared. And you know what? It’s okay. It’s completely fucking normal to feel like this right now. I shouldn’t have left you. That was me being dense, and I’m sorry. But you can stop pretending. It’s just me here - and Kazuichi, but he’ll understand too. He’s scared of everything.”

“I am not!” Kazuichi cried, outraged.

Hajime didn’t break eye contact with Nagito, both breathing heavily. Nagito glared back at first, his face twisting into a scowl, but Hajime didn’t falter.

“Let me in,” Hajime muttered. “I know you, for God’s sake. You’re not gonna scare me off. It’s okay to need help. Please.”

Another silence for several long, tense seconds. Then - finally, amazingly - Nagito made a soft frustrated noise, lunged forwards and wound his arms around Hajime’s neck so tightly that for a second Hajime thought he’d messed up so badly Nagito was trying to throttle him.

“Hey, careful,” Hajime said, but his voice was gentle and he didn’t try to pry Nagito off. Nagito let his forehead rest on Hajime’s shoulder, his hair falling to shield his face completely. Hajime snaked his own arms awkwardly around Nagito’s slender waist. He could feel Nagito shaking, feel the warm puff of his breathing against his shoulder. The shaking never eased, but as time passed the breathing seemed to calm slightly.

Nagito didn’t speak as he clung to Hajime for dear life. Not a single word. But Hajime hadn’t really expected him to. This was already a degree of vulnerability that Nagito was completely unaccustomed to showing anyone, let alone his almost-boyfriend, his classmates and an entire plane full of strangers. It was a good place to start.

Kazuichi watched them slightly bitterly. “It’s alright for some. I wouldn’t mind someone to cuddle up to,” he muttered.

“That’s your other talent. Ultimate Third Wheel,” Hajime quipped.

Their row of seats was reasonably peaceful after that, though Hajime could hear the laughter and yelling from their classmates further back. He hoped the sensible members of the group could stop them causing too much trouble. Hajime couldn’t go tell them to knock it off himself; whenever he moved at all Nagito would tighten his grip.

He sat there, hour after hour, until he had to pry Nagito off him for a bathroom break. It wasn’t easy. Nagito fought him and clung on as much as he could, though Hajime explained he’d be back in five minutes.

“Look, cling onto Kazuichi while I go pee,” Hajime suggested. Kazuichi didn’t look overly enthusiastic about that idea, but he didn’t protest.

Nagito sighed. He slowly drew back his arms, and whispered three breathy little words into Hajime’s shirt before he went, perhaps the most raw, vulnerable words Hajime had ever heard Nagito say: “Please come back.”

“I will. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.

Nagito shifted shakily in his seat, turned to Kazuichi and lunged at him too, wrapping his arms around his neck. Kazuichi squealed and whined that he was being strangled, but he didn’t shove Nagito away. Hajime almost felt like they were new parents, passing their newborn between them: “I’ll hold him for a bit, you go to the loo.”

There was a queue for the tiny airplane bathrooms. Hajime stood impatiently, wriggling his cramped shoulders and rocking back on his heels; he was glad Nagito seemed to be trusting him more, but he was pretty stiff after sitting in the same position for hours.

Two women ahead of Hajime in the queue seemed to be having an animated discussion about something, and when Hajime caught the word “school” he started to listen properly.

“I don’t know what sort of school they come from, but they’re a strange bunch,” one lady hissed. “There’s an odd boy in the row ahead of me, one of that lot, who has a collections of rodents, all free from their cage! Running all over the seat trays! Well, that’s not very hygienic, is it? But when I told him as much, he gave me the most incredibly rude answer.”

“Young people have such foul mouths these days,” the other lady agreed.

“No, he wasn’t swearing. It was ever so strange, almost as if he was… well, you’ll think I sound silly. But it was like he was cursing me.”

It was a good job for Hajime that the toilet became available and the lady rushed inside, because he was biting his cheeks to contain his laughter. When he’d used the loo himself and gone back to release Kazuichi from Nagito’s vice grip, he recited the story for both of them.

Kazuichi laughed, poking Nagito gently. “There you are, Nagito. No need to worry. No matter how weird we are, we can always count on Gundham to be weirder.”

Nagito didn’t respond, but Hajime saw a hint of a smile - a real smile - on his lips before he buried his face in Hajime’s neck again.

#super danganronpa two #danganronpa 2 #emeto tw #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #kazuichi souda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #panic attacks #past trauma #komahina #fear of flying #non despair au #mod circle #our writing

86 notes · View notes

luv-eddiediaz · 3 years

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Oh god. No. Not here. Not now. Not with these people. Eddie can't breathe, but he can't let them know he can't breathe. He loosens his tie just a little bit - the one Ana went back for after Eddie was discharged from the hospital. His nervous laughter is really a way to suck some oxygen back into his lungs, and when a heavy hand touches his elbow, and the smile on its owner’s face distorts. He's going to pass out if he doesn't move, doesn't flee from this spiraling, spinning disaster.

"Could you, uh, could you excuse me?" He asks and plasters on his best charming smile, hoping his voice isn't as high and squeaky as he thinks it is.

He catches Ana's eye from across the room as he moves through what feels like a sea of strangers. She's worried, but Eddie doesn't stop to explain anything and continues his way to the bathroom, where he locks himself inside and lets himself fall apart the way his body was begging to.

His fingers curl tight the porcelain of the sink, and he tries, tries to slow his breathing. Finally, he tells himself to stop it in the mirror, even smacks himself across the cheek, but nothing changes.

There's a soft knock on the door, and Ana's gentle voice comes through the cracks, "Eddie? Are you okay?"

"Fine," he grits out.

"Are you having another attack?"

"I said I'm fine!" his anger and frustration echo too loud against the tile of the bathroom. , get a grip, Diaz. "Can you just get Chris some cake? I'll be right out."

Ana's fading footsteps are the only answer he gets, and Eddie focuses back on himself. He tries to remember what the pamphlet from the hospital said, or rather, what Buck said it says the night he found it buried on Eddie's counter and read it to him, but his brain is just a white-hot sear of nothing. Eddie pulls out his phone and dials Buck - no time to look for his name in the phone book. He doesn't answer, and Eddie nearly throws the phone into the sink.

"Damn!"

But it's Sunday, and Buck said something about Taylor coming over on Sunday, so, of course, he isn't answering. Eddie thinks for a second, in desperation, he'll call Bobby, but then his phone vibrates, and he sees Buck's smile fill the screen. He rubs his thumb over it before swiping to answer.

"Buck?" He answers.

"Hey, you called?" Buck asks on the other end of the line, slightly fuzzy, but Eddie can hear the smile in his voice, and the vice around his heart loosens just a little bit.

"Buck?" He asks again as if he can't process anything else.

"Uh, yea. Are you okay?"

"No. Panic attack."

"But aren't you at that christening?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Buck, help.” He hates how desperate he must sound, but Buck’s already seen him at his most desperate, trying to hold onto his life and knowing, instinctively, that Buck would help him. He would save him.

Buck always saves him.

" What have you tried?" Buck asks.

"Not much. Nothing. I just, I called you.”

"That’s good. Where are you?"

"Bathroom."

"You need to focus on something besides the panic. So, find me four things you see, Eddie. Try to be specific."

"Okay,” Eddie looks around the bathroom. He sees a million times too many things, and it takes him a second to focus in on something, “Uh, a pink shower curtain,” like your pink sweater that you say is salmon, but Buck, it’s pink. “white rugs,” dazzling white like your teeth when you smile, and that patch of skin that sometimes peeks through under your waistband. “a bristly hairbrush,” god, you’re hair is always so perfect, “and, and curtains on the window. They’re sheer; pink too,” just like that sweater.

"Good,” Buck soothes, “now, three things you can smell."

"Umm, vanilla soap,” sometimes you smell like vanilla, and sugar - like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, “cinnamon toothpaste,” like in your bathroom, crumpled up in the corner, “my cologne,” you bought me this bottle for Christmas.

"That’s good, Eddie. Two things you can hear."

"I hear people - outside the door."

"Not them,” Buck tells him, “Two other things. Ignore that sound."

"I hear - I hear crickets outside the open window, and I hear...you. Your voice in my ear, your breath,” I always hear you, even when I don’t want to.

"One thing you can touch," Buck says quietly, and Eddie takes a shaking breath, presses his hand over his chest.

"My heartbeat."

"Is it slower than before?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do you think you're okay?"

“Yea. I um, I’m probably just going to go home, sleep it off.”

“Good idea.”

“Thank you, Buck.”

“Of course.”

Eddie hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket. He isn’t panicking anymore, but he doesn’t feel great. He splashes his face with water and tries to smooth down all the places he’s rumpled before he opens the bathroom door and finds Ana on the other side, Christopher sitting next to her on the floor with a plate of cake in his lap.

“Are you okay?” she asks, putting a hand to his cheek, and it burns where there was just cold air against the drying water.

Eddie nods, “I’m okay. But I think I’m probably gonna go. In case it happens again.”

“Let me get my purse.”

“No, you stay. It’s your family. Just tell them I got sick.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea,” he leans down and kisses her cheek before helping Chris up.

Neither says much to the other in the car, but Eddie chuckles when Chris rips his suit jacket off the moment the door is closed. He sees the silhouette on the front steps against the fading sun before he gets the truck parked and shakes his head at the realization it’s Buck.

"What are you doing here?" he asks when Buck jogs up to him.

"I didn't want you to be alone when you got home,” Buck answers quietly and then turns his attention to Christopher once the back door is open, and he’s climbing out, “Hey, buddy, did you have a good time? You look pretty handsome in that suit."

Chris rolls his eyes, "that's what everyone kept telling me. But then they said I would have looked better if I cut my hair.

“Well, you know what? I like this long, floppy look,” Buck ruffles his hand through Chris’s hair. It had definitely gotten long, and maybe a little out of control, but he didn’t want to cut it, and Eddie only remembered being dragged to the barbershop every five weeks to have his hair clipped, no matter how much he begged to keep it just a little bit longer.

Chris smiles, “thanks, Buck.”

“Do you think you could give me a minute with your dad?” Buck asks when they all get inside the house. Eddie flips on the lamp by the door, and Christopher nods and leaves for his room, closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says, walking further into the house, turning on lights as he goes.

“Okay, but do you wanna talk about what happened?”

“No.”

“Was it too many people?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “I’m half Mexican, Buck; I grew up going to huge parties, family and friends always over on the weekend. That wasn’t it.”

“What was it, then?”

“Why does it matter?” he doesn’t mean to sound as exasperated as he does, but sometimes Buck just brings it out of him.

“Because if you can figure out what’s triggering you, you can figure out how to control the panic better.”

“I don’t panic.”

“You didn’t, but now you are. So let’s try and figure out why.”

Eddie sighs, “can I have a beer while we do it, at least?”

“If I get one too.”

They go into the kitchen, and Eddie takes two beers from the fridge and cracks one open before handing it to Buck. He watches him take a long, slow sip. Eddie’s hands start to shake around the glass, and he forces himself to look away, down at the shine of his shoes to keep whatever is trying to rise pushed down.

“Was there like some kind of a loud noise?” Buck asks.

“No. It isn’t - loud noises have never bothered me.”

“Things have changed a little bit, though.”

“I don’t think they have anything to do with being shot. I know no one wants to believe me, but I’m fine about that.”

“Maybe no one wants to believe you because you were shot. That doesn’t happen to most people even once, and it’s happened to you twice.”

“I know, but I swear to you, I’m okay. I don’t think that’ what this about.”

“If you say so. Let’s recount the night then. What happened right before it started?”

“Ana’s great aunt, she - she said I was perfect for Ana - a good addition to their family.”

Buck takes another swig from the bottle; his eyebrows are knitted in thought. If Chim or Hen were there, they’d make a joke about him not straining himself, and they’d only be kidding, but Eddie knows Buck has a lot of thoughts, a lot of good, deep ones, that maybe Eddie is the only one to have ever heard, “And didn’t you say the first time was after the salesman referred to Ana as Chris’s mom?”

“Yea,” Eddie says quietly.

“Do you think maybe you’re just having a hard time with how serious your relationship is getting?”

“It’s not getting that serious.”

“Eddie, she introduced you to like all her family, you went to an important family event, her great-aunt thinks your excellent husband material.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, and he coughs, trying to force it out, but it sits there like a bubble trying to choke him, and the kitchen starts to spin, turquoise spiraling into stainless steel, spiraling into Buck.

“Stop, stop saying things like that,” he sputters out.

“You’re starting to panic again, aren’t you?” Buck asks.

“When the hell did it get so serious? I was just - I don’t know what I was doing. I liked her, but I didn’t mean-”

Eddie backs against the counter next to the sink, he tries to loosen his tie, but he can’t make his fingers work. Then Buck crosses the space between them and replaces Eddie’s hand with his own, pulling down on the knot and unbuttoning Eddie’s collar. “Breathe; breathe,” he whispers to him and puts his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and he’s so close Eddie has no choice but to look at him. He feels his hand in Buck’s, slowly pressing against the other man’s chest.

“Breathe with it,” Buck says of his heartbeat, and Eddie closes his eyes. It takes a few moments, but soon his breath is in sync with Buck’s heartbeat, and he’s not sure he’s ever felt this kind of calm before.

“Okay?” Buck asks.

“No, but yes.”

“I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be honest - not for me, but for yourself.”

“O-okay.”

“Do you want Ana to be in your future? Your far future?”

“No,” he answers quickly, but it’s a question he’s asked himself before and was just too afraid to say out loud, “but -”

“But what? Chris likes her?”

“Yes!” Eddie shouts.

“Maybe he does, maybe he even loves her a little, but he loves you more, and he wants you to be happy, and he knows you aren’t happy, and he probably knows it’s because of her.”

“He does?”

“Yes,” Buck takes Eddie’s hand away from his heart, but he doesn’t let go of it, “your heart knows it too, and it’s screaming at you, Eddie, but you aren’t listening.”

“I wanted to be ready, to move on from Shannon, not just after she died, but long before that too.”

“I know.”

“Am I never going to be ready?” He can feel the wet of his eyes as he blinks up at Buck, vulnerable once again in front of him.

“I think you are, but not with Ana, and that’s okay. I mean, she’s the first person you seriously dated besides your wife, Eds. So it’s okay that she isn’t the right fit, and it’s okay if it takes you a little while longer to find who is.”

“Is Taylor your right fit?” Eddie blurts out, and it makes Buck let go of his hand.

“Whoah, we’re talking about you here.”

“Is she? It’s been four months, and you’re still together; she’s still actually here.”

“Yea, she hasn’t run away from me yet, and ya know, we have a good time.”

“She makes you happy?”

“Y-yea. I mean, am I ready to ask her to marry me? No, but I gave her a drawer last week.”

“A drawer?”

“Yea. She’s only got a few things in it; honestly, she lives more in the news van than anything.”

“You gave Taylor a drawer. In your loft?”

“Am I mumbling or something? A drawer, yes. In my loft.”

“That’s uh - that’s cool.” But, damnit, Eddie can’t do this for the third time. He doesn’t have the strength left. He grips the dishtowel hanging from the knife drawer just to ground himself to something.

“You okay?”

“Yep, yep.”

“You’re looking a little panicky. Maybe it’s not just Ana. Maybe you’ve just got a real fear of commitment thing going on. Even if it’s mine.”

“Shit,” his chest hurts this time, and his whole body is hot, but he’s shivering.

“Put your hand back on my heart.”

“No, no! God, that’s going to make this worse.”

“What? Why? It worked last time.”

“Exactly. And in the bathroom, it was you, so much you,” Eddie’s knees are weak now. He isn’t sure how much longer he can stay upright, and suddenly everything, fucking everything, smells like Buck.

“Eddie, you’re not making any sense.”

“I need you to go. Can you go, please?”

“I’m not going to leave you like this.”

And, of course, Eddie knows Buck won’t leave him. Buck will do just about anything Eddie asks, but he won’t do this. He won’t leave Eddie when Eddie needs him so badly.

“Buck, please, you’re making things worse.”

“How am I making things worse?”

“Because you’re the only one who can make them better!”

“Eddie, Eddie.” Buck wraps Eddie up in his arms before he can fall to the floor, probably hitting his head on the way down. The instant calm he feels with Buck’s body pressed hard against his, his soft breath hitting the curve of Eddie’s neck terrifies him. It isn’t a new fear, but it’s one he’s been feeling so much more lately, one he can’t seem to ignore. He’s so tired from his body trying to run away from everything; his bones ache, his chest is sore. Finally, he closes his eyes and gives in to the fear, stops trying to fight or flee, and just lets Buck hold onto him. His fingers rake through Eddie’s sweat-slicked hair as Eddie’s breathing starts to slow.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Buck whispers into Eddie’s throbbing temple.

“It’s not okay at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” he rushes out in one broken breath, “it isn’t just that Ana feels wrong; it’s that you feel right. You’ve always felt right.”

Buck is quiet for what feels like a hundred moments before he finally seems to have something to say.

“Huh,” he breathes out from the back of his throat.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. You could say that I’m insane, that you love Taylor, that you’re not into men, not into me.”

“I could say any of that, but then I’d be lying to you.”

“What?”

“Look, Eddie, I-I don’t know if I’m in love with you, but I feel something. Something more than I’ve ever felt with anyone, and I kinda keep thinking it’s going to go away, but it never goes away.”

“Huh.”

Buck laughs and gently sits Eddie up, tangled across Buck’s long legs, still safe in his arms, “are you okay?” he asks.

“I think I am.”

“Good.”

Buck presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose, and Eddie smiles before he tilts his chin, so Buck’s lips fall against his. It’s a slow, quiet kiss that lasts only a few seconds before they both pull away.

Eddie is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, so he lets them slip closed, lets Buck hold him closer in the middle of the kitchen floor until he falls asleep.

#i had to do it #long fic #buddie fic #eddie's anxiety attacks #not anti ana #but not pro ana by any means either #panic attacks #buddie

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spiked-tea-writing · 3 years

Text

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

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