#i’ve already seen enough posts to make me want to throw my phone into the ocean | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years

Text

IV ║ Strawberry Roan

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 3: Dapple Grey | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 5: Appaloosa }

Rating: E

Summary: Jack pulls out all the stops for your birthday. All of them.

Warnings: Flirting, yearning, insecurities, sexual tension, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, use of dating app, sexual innuendoes, fingering, protected sex, dirty talk, language, mention of food, drinking, mention of breakup, mention of hair, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.4k

Notes: It's here. See you on the other side 😉 Palomino will be taking a little break, if you want to see what I'll be up these few weeks, check it out here. See you in November!

I forgot to link to it when I posted this - a deleted scene from this part is published as a drabble - Béarnaise.

Strawberry Roan: A horse with a reddish coat that is liberally flecked with white hairs.

Day 3

The next time you wake up, the sun is high in the sky and Jack is nowhere to be seen. You tap your phone for the time and sit up groggily - by this hour, you’re usually already saddled up and ready to go. Grabbing your toiletries and riding clothes from your bag, and a bottle of water, you trudge barefoot towards the nearest treeline to get ready.

Jack has his back to you, cooking breakfast, when you make your way towards the camp in jodhpurs with mint on your breath. You stop by the horses grazing in the shade, giving all three scratches behind the ears and a pat on the neck good morning, mindful not to get your toes trodden on by accident.

‘Morning,’ you call out as you approach the reignited fire.

Jack twists around to smile at you. ‘Mornin’, darlin’.’

Bending over, you roll up your sleeping bag. ‘Why didn’t you wake me? It’s late.’

‘It’s your birthday, you deserve a lie-in,’ he answers over his shoulder. ‘We’re not far from the Halfway House anyway - we can take it easy today.’

Sitting cross-legged next to him, your eyes light up at what’s sizzling in the pan. ‘A lie-in and pancakes for breakfast? You spoil me, cowboy.’

A bowl of mixed berries sits next to the pancake batter and maple syrup. You pop a raspberry into your mouth, the burst of tart sweetness sharpening your still fuzzy senses. With a tea towel, you grab the kettle carefully from where it’s sitting warm on the fire, pouring yourself a coffee and topping up Jack’s half-empty mug.

Jack flips the pancake over theatrically in the pan, flashing you a smile with teeth. ‘Only the best for my birthday girl.’

You really shouldn’t - and you suppose you can blame it on the fact that you’re not quite awake yet - but your heart lurches at him calling you as his in any way. The kettle lands clumsily on the metal grill with a clatter as your arm gives out.

You’re still floundering when he asks casually, ‘How are you feelin’?’

With four little words, he unwittingly throws you into bedlam, and you go stock-still. Oh fuck. Is he asking you about the kiss? The chaste yet spine-tingling kiss which, in the bright light of day, you can't even quite believe actually happened -

His calm drawl cuts through your panicked thoughts, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. ‘I’m a bit hungover myself, not gonna lie.’

Oh. Okay. Hangover chat. You can do that.

You clear your throat and force a smile. ‘I’ve been worse - just a tiny bit of a headache. Thought you could handle your liquor, cowboy.’

Satisfied that the pancake is done, Jack slides it onto a clean plate and passes it to you. He pours more batter into the pan, and the sweet smell of butter clings to the morning air. ‘Well, luckily, today’s ride is easily managed even while hungover. We chose a good night to drink.’

Except… you didn’t just drink. Revelations, too intimate to even fathom in the waking hours, confided in the dead of night - none of which you had the chance to discuss before throwing in the kiss at sunrise into the ring. And you’re not brave enough to bring up any of it.

Jack flips the pan again, sending the half-cooked pancake somersaulting through mid-air, and shoots you a triumphant grin.

You can’t help but grin back.

Later. You’ll worry about everything else later.

One thing you’ve come to realise about Jack is that he’s a meticulous planner. It’s easy with just the two of you, but the logistics of moving twelve horses and twelve riders across the mountains can’t be an easy feat. The way he equal parts encouraged and pushed you yesterday so that you can have a laid-back birthday today offers a glimpse into his firm grasp on the planning of the trip.

The unassuming way that he both literally and metaphorically takes the reins has you staring at his hands more than once today.

It’s just past half three when the Halfway House appears on the horizon. It has a red roof like the main lodge back on the ranch, and it is bigger than you expected - a sprawling single-storey house with a handsome veranda out front. There’s definitely plenty of space even for a fully-booked pack trip.

A fenced paddock stands next to the house, and adjacent to it is a half-enclosed stables with a free-standing roof. There’s a small outbuilding on the far side which you assume is the tack room. Even from a distance, you can see that three stalls have been done up with clean wood shavings, and there is hay in the nets for the horses’ supper this evening.

It’s a well-rehearsed routine now when you go about untacking Scotch. After putting the tack away in the store room and leaving the damp saddle pad to air-dry on the fence, you give him a thorough hosing down, careful to brush out any sweat that has built up. Then with a rubber scraper, you skim it over his coat to wring out the excess water. By the time you finish, Scotch is impatiently tossing his head, and you let him into the paddock with an affectionate pat on his rump.

Jack’s just about done with Whiskey. Glancing up at you, he nods towards the house. ‘Go ahead, darlin’, your bag will be in there. There’s a bathtub if you feel like it, so take your time. I’ll come in when the horses are settled.’

‘Alright, I’ll see you in there,’ you reply, plucking your pack from where it’s lying on the grass, and a couple of others as well, and walk up to the house.

The stairs to the porch creak under your boots and the door grinds on its hinges when you swing it inwards. It’s stuffy, so you open a window to let the breeze in, and it sweeps through the space as you glance around appreciatively. The house is cozy with low-maintenance stone floors and plush rugs in front of a huge sofa and a wood-burning fireplace. A stack of logs sits neatly next to it.

The kitchen is open-plan and modern, surprisingly high-spec for a house in the middle of nowhere. There are multiple cooking hobs, a big double sink, and high stools are neatly arranged around the kitchen island. The more formal dining table can easily seat a dozen.

Despite the high ceilings held up by wooden beams, you can’t help but feel somewhat closed in with a roof above you.

As you move about the space, your ears pick up on the low hum of electricity, and your phone vibrates in your pocket from new messages coming in - it’s strange to be back in civilisation after just three days away. You idly wonder how Jack jumps between these two worlds.

The bag you packed for the second part of the trip, with a fresh supply of clean clothes, is sitting in the living room. Hitching it onto your shoulder, you venture down the corridor on the far side of the house, ready to clean up for the day.

Pushing open the first door of many, you peer into the comfortable space. It’s roomy and welcoming despite the simple furnishings - but if you’re being honest with yourself, you only need the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

The bedroom has a clear view of the paddock through the window, and you set your bag down on the desk next to it. You linger for a little while, half digging into your bag for a change of clothes and half watching Jack brush down Bourbon.

His sleeves are pushed up past the crease of his elbow today - the beginnings of the bulge of his biceps peeking from underneath the fabric. Then he bends over by the waist to lift up Bourbon’s hind leg, checking if there are any small stones or caked dirt in the hooves that need to be removed - granting you an unobstructed view of his pert backside and the strong columns of his thighs from behind.

You turn around before you get too wound up. The last thing you need is him catching you masturbating in the shower too.

Taking one of the fluffy towels on the bed, you go in search of the bathroom, which is a couple of more doors down. Jack wasn’t lying - a stately clawfoot bathtub takes prime position in the space, but what you really need after three days in the wild is a deep clean in the shower. The bath will have to wait.

You take your time, relishing the strong shower stream and hot water as it will be another few days before you get the chance to take another one. You condition your hair and run your razor over your legs and underarms. You tidy up down there as well - maybe a bit too hopefully.

There must be a second bathroom in the house. When you finally step out of the shower, you hear another one shut off. Towelling dry, you pull on the cutest outfit you brought on the trip - your favourite jeans with a flattering cut and a long-sleeved blouse that shows just a hint of cleavage.

There’s a hairdryer which you make full use of, and you dig into your sponge bag for the minimal makeup that you brought. You hear Jack puttering around while you dab concealer under your eyes and colour on your cheeks. When you’re done, you pace nervously in front of the mirror, picking off invisible lint from your clothes and studying your reflection critically.

You can’t put off leaving the safety of the bathroom forever. Taking a deep breath and squaring your shoulders, you open the door and walk into the living space.

It’s strange seeing Jack in a domestic setting. You haven’t even been indoors with him yet, if you don’t count the stables. He’s in clean jeans and a light shirt, wearing socks but no shoes. His hair is wet and sits a bit closer to the scalp than it does than when it’s dry.

Prepping bowls and crockery are spread over the kitchen island, but you’re sure there’s a method to his madness. He’s easily commanding the space, wiping a kitchen knife with a tea towel and setting it on the chopping board. He’s humming to himself with his broad back to you, unaware as you pad quietly into his space.

‘What’s that song?’ you ask as you sidle up to him.

Jack doesn’t miss a beat, even when you catch him by surprise. He hums a bit louder before answering, ‘It’s called Strawberry Roan.’

You grin at the name of the song. ‘I love it - cowboy music. I’ll play it on Spotify?’

‘Spotify what?’

You shake your head as you connect your phone to the bluetooth speakers, and brisk guitar chords fill the space. ‘I know you’re old-fashioned, but at least try to keep up?’

I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time

Out of a job, not earnin' a dime

A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose

You're a bronc fighter from looks of your clothes"

"You figures me right, I'm a good one" I claim

"Do you happen to have any bad ones to tame?"

Jack dips in and out of the song as you watch him organise his mise en place, his throaty crooning has you leaning on the table as your knees wobble. A few choruses in, you remark, ‘It’s strange seeing you cook in an actual kitchen. All you’re missing is an apron.’

He narrows his gaze as you pat yourself on the back for your bright idea. You rummage through random cabinet drawers until you find one, in a gingham print with a loud, frilly border, brandishing it triumphantly like a prize.

‘C’mon, it goes with your plaid,’ you tease.

‘No ma’am,’ he says sternly. ‘I’m not wearing that.’

Ignoring his protests, you walk straight up to him and stand on your toes to loop the apron around his neck. You could’ve - probably should’ve - circled around to do up the apron from behind. But instead, grabbing the ends of the strings, you pull them back and tie them around his waist with your nose to his very warm chest, catching the whiff of soap on his skin and fabric softener on his shirt.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you miss the musk of his sweat and the scent of leather that he seems to wear like a second skin - but you might be crossing the boundary of reason if you begrudge a man for practising personal hygiene.

Drawing your hands back to rest on your hips, you tip your face up at him impishly. ‘The apron suits you, cowboy.’

He shakes his head, but a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips as he taps the tip of your nose with a spatula. ‘Don’t get used to this, darlin’.’

What does he mean by this, exactly? Him cooking for you? Him letting you do whatever you want, as long as you flirt your way out of trouble?

Well, it’s too bloody late either way.

Reluctantly, you step back, rounding the counter to sit on a stool. His eyes follow you, and he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’

It’s not fair how even the most mundane of compliments from him sends your pulse racing.

‘Thanks, you too,’ you answer, a sudden shyness creeping in, and you twine your fingers together so they don’t fidget. Changing the subject, you ask, ‘So, what’s for dinner?’

‘Poppy really went all out.’ Jack spins around to open the fridge and heaves a fully-laden tray to the kitchen island, reciting the menu to you. ‘You have three options - a beautiful ribeye from our neighbouring cattle ranch, wild-caught salmon from California or a vegetarian lasagne with produce from our own farm. Or all three,’ he adds with a wink.

‘Steak sounds good,’ you reply excitedly. All the meals on the trip so far have been mostly vegetarian, which is understandable due to the lack of refrigeration, but you can do with some variety.

‘I was hoping you’d pick that,’ smiles Jack, transplanting the two thick steaks onto a chopping board, then pops the rest back into the fridge. ‘And of course, there will be Poppy’s famous chocolate cake for dessert.’

Your tummy rumbles - breakfast was a while ago. ‘Perfect.’

‘You want a drink while I cook? I’m not letting the birthday girl lift a finger today.’

‘Maybe a Coke if there’s one?’

Jack pulls a can out of the fridge and pops it open, then pours it into a glass with ice, setting it in front of you on the counter. ‘I thought you weren’t hungover?’

You take a sip, the carbonation bubbling on your tongue. ‘I’m not, just taking it easy. I’ll have a glass of wine with dinner.’

Elbows on the countertop, you watch Jack bustle about the kitchen, just as at home as he is in the saddle. Steady fingers turn the knobs on the oven at precise angles before five measured steps bring him back to the fridge. One large hand easily holds a bunch of asparagus, shallots and mushrooms from the vegetable drawer, the other grabbing a casserole dish of ready-made potato dauphinoise. There’s no hesitation as he plucks oils and condiments from the shelf, lining everything up on the kitchen island.

‘So, was cooking part of the job description when Champ recruited you?’ you ask conversationally.

Satisfied the oven is preheated, he slides the potato dish in to bake and sets the timer. ‘It wasn’t even a consideration when I first joined. It was sandwiches and cereal bars for a long time, but when Poppy came on board she really turned things around.’

‘When was that?’

Jack tilts his head to the side as if counting the years. ‘About seven years ago. It was like boot camp, we were cooped up in the kitchen all winter, all day long, to get up to speed before pack trip season started. Tequila still needs a bit more help, so Poppy preps more things for him when he’s on duty. But I enjoy doing it.’

The ice in your glass clinks as you swirl it around. ‘So you didn’t cook before that?’

He seasons the steaks with salt and black pepper. ‘Not much, my wife did most of it. But I had to learn to fend for myself pretty quickly. What about you?’

Your heart swells warmly at the spontaneous mention of his wife. It doesn’t escape your notice that it wasn’t accompanied by any wary glance or hesitation. Like he trusts you enough to bring her up in casual conversation with you.

Realising you’re slow to respond, you reply, ‘My ex and I used to take turns cooking, me more than him. It’s a bit more effort to cook for just one nowadays, so I’ve been getting a lot of takeaway.’

He looks up from the shallots he’s peeling expertly. ‘He called you last night, didn’t he? Your ex?’

You pinch your lips. ‘How did you know?’

‘Your face fell pretty spectacularly when your phone rang.’

Yeah, because he was just about to kiss you.

You shrug. ‘I told him not to contact me this week. It was probably about the house we’re trying to sell.’

Jack arches an eyebrow and cuts off the ends of the shallots. ‘You sure he’s not trying to get you back?’

You snort. ‘That ship has long sailed, cowboy. Boarded by pirates. Set on fire. Sunk to the bottom of Davy Jones Locker. Eaten by the Kraken.’

That draws a chuckle from him. ‘So - that’s a no?’

‘A hard no,’ you confirm.

Warm brown eyes hold yours as one corner of his lips ticks up in a smile. ‘Good.’

You chew the inside of your mouth. ‘Yeah?’

He nods in the affirmative. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Tension hums between you again, but before it gets too heavy, you sneakily slide a hand over to the asparagus. Jack raps you on the back of your fingers playfully. ‘No. You’re not helping tonight.’

You pout. ‘Please?’

He sighs and gives in with a lopsided smile. ‘Anythin’ you want, darlin’.’

The steak is delicious cooked, if Jack may say so himself. It was the right call to make the Béarnaise from scratch, even though it’s a pain in the ass - or rather, in the arm. Watching you happily smear the last of your steak through the creamy sauce makes all the whisking worthwhile.

The two of you are perched at the kitchen island, bookending an intimate corner, a vase of wildflowers sitting between your plates. Earlier that morning, he caught the way your gaze lingered on the meadow as you mounted Scotch, obviously finding it hard to leave. He cut a bunch of blooms with the Swiss knife he keeps in his shirt pocket while you weren’t looking, putting it away in one of the saddle bags.

Your eyes softened when they alighted on the slightly crushed flowers as he laid the table, which in turn, softened his.

Red wine - one sensible serving each - sits low in the glasses when Jack clears the counter surface, setting the empty plates in the sink.

Drying his hands with a tea towel, he asks, ‘Can you give me a few minutes, darlin’?’

Polishing off your drink, you give him a quizzical look. ‘What for?’

He pulls an imaginary zip across his mouth with a shrug.

With a roll of your eyes, you slide off your seat and give him a little shove on the shoulder in warning as you pass by. ‘You better not be planning anything funny, cowboy.’

It’s getting chilly despite the windows being just cracked open. As soon as he hears your door shut with a soft thud, Jack starts with getting a fire going in the antique fireplace which Champ bought from an auction a few years back. He collects the cake from the spare room where it’s been left to thaw from the fridge chill for the past hour - under strict instruction from Poppy - and sets it down gently on the kitchen island.

Hands on hips, he glances about for the birthday candles. An inconspicuous paper bag sits untouched on the counter by the fridge. That must be it. He grabs it and peeks inside -

- only to find a spanking new pack of twenty extra-large condoms.

Thinking he hears movement, Jack hastily closes up the bag and shoves it into the space on top of the fridge in a panic, spinning around with his heart thumping in his ears as he fully expects you to catch him red-handed and sweaty-palmed.

He sighs in relief when an empty living room stares back at him.

Fuck’s sake. He bets that it’s Tequila’s idea of a joke. He scoffs to himself as he shakes his head at his co-worker’s antics. He got the extra-large part right - he'll give him that. But a twenty pack? Really?

He eventually does find the candles in a drawer near the dishwasher, and he plants one delicately in the middle of the cake. Spotting the other party decorations in storage, an idea comes to him.

You’re reapplying a lightly tinted lip balm when you hear Jack call your name.

All the lights in the living room and kitchen are off when you emerge from the corridor, the only source of illumination being the roaring fire in the hearth. It’s strangely comforting to see Jack in the familiar firelight. You cross your arms. ‘What’s all this, cowboy?’

He tips his head towards the door. ‘Someone wants to say happy birthday.’

Only then do you realise that the porch light is on, and a laugh tumbles from your lips when your head finally makes sense of what you’re seeing.

All three horses are hovering at the door, birthday hats hanging from one ear, sparkly tinsel around their necks. They seem confused but not unhappy to hang about the doorway - with the air of teenagers being cajoled into doing something vaguely embarrassing by their dad.

You give each of them a well-deserved cuddle, promising them extra treats tomorrow for being such good sports. At Jack’s smooth baritone singing happy birthday, you turn around and watch him approach with a wicked-looking chocolate cake. Your cheeks ache at how wide you’re beaming when he stops in front of you.

‘Make a wish, darlin’,’ he prompts, eyes flecked with gold as the candle flickers in the breeze coming through the front door.

You do - eyes closed and hands clasped together - and blow out the flame.

‘Ginger did promise I’d have the best birthday ever.’

‘And did we deliver?’

‘You know you did. Thank you, Jack.’

The plush cushions laid out on the rugs are kind on your sore muscles as you lean back lazily against the sofa, the fire warming your bare feet. Your plate of half-eaten chocolate cake lies abandoned on the floor. It’s sinfully rich and delicious, but you’re so stuffed that you can’t bring yourself to have another bite.

A buzz from your phone draws your gaze.

‘You can reply to your friends if you want,’ Jack says.

You wave him off. ‘No, I’ll do it later. I want to send a picture to my parents though - take a selfie with me?’

‘Sure.’

He shuffles closer, draping an arm on the seat of the sofa, brushing the ridge of your shoulders. You fit into his side comfortably, the turn of his strong shoulder pressing into your nape. Boldly, you lean your head against his so his moustache tickles your temple, and snap the photo.

‘It’s a cute picture,’ he comments when you show him, chin brushing your shoulder.

Neither of you move away when you open up Whatsapp to send it to your mum. As you do, you accidentally brush the Tinder notification that appears on top of the screen, which takes you to the app.

You laugh and tilt the screen towards Jack. ‘Look who showed up on my Tinder?’

He snorts, amused. ‘Tequila. I'd be disappointed if he wasn't.’

You scroll through the photos while Jack watches, sniggering, ‘Why am I not surprised that he’s topless in four out of five photos?’

He rolls his eyes, but there’s an undeniable fondness in his tone. ‘That’s Teak for you - always the exhibitionist. We once had a bachelorette party book a private tour and Champ put him on it - he never did tell us exactly what happened on that trip.’

‘So… should I swipe right, or…?’ you trail off.

‘What’s swiping right again?’

‘If you like the look of someone, you swipe right. Like, they’re right for you.’

He stares at you closely. ‘So? What’s it gonna be?’

You swipe left unceremoniously and Tequila’s profile falls off the screen. ‘Not my type.’

You feel a rumble of a laugh in his chest pressed against your side. ‘What is your type then, darlin’?’

Is he being deliberately obtuse?

You nudge him in the ribs with your elbow for his insolence, and he grunts, pretending to double over in pain and catching your wrists to immobilise you.

Heat runs up and down your spine at his touch, and you put your nose in the air. ‘Don’t think I’ll just spill my secrets like that, cowboy. Your turn.’

Any disappointment of him letting go of you is tempered by the way his weight pushes into your side as he struggles to get his phone out from his very tight jeans.

‘Alright, here goes nothin’,’ he grumbles and taps on the fire icon.

A woman shows up on his screen, exuding confidence and sex appeal. You make a noise of appreciation at her curls and red lipstick as he flips through the photos.

With a nonchalant shrug, Jack makes to swipe left when you stop him. ‘Whoa, hold your horses cowboy, what’s wrong with her?’

‘Nothin’, she’s just not my type.’

Your eyebrows reach for your hairline. ‘Not your type? She’s gorgeous.’

He swipes to a photo where the woman is holding a cocktail, wearing a plunging black dress. ‘Look at her nails. I can’t go out with someone like that.’

You scoff, ‘I’m not saying marry her. I’m saying, if you met her in a bar, wouldn't you pick her up?’

Jack gives you a long-suffering stare. ‘Darlin’, I’m not interested. Do I have your permission to swipe left? Please?’

‘Fine,’ you grouse, shrinking into yourself.

If a woman like that can’t sway Jack Daniels’ interest, you don’t know who can.

Certainly not you.

As he swipes the woman out of view, your profile pops up.

His fingers find your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze, along with a teasing grin. ‘Well, well, look who I found.’

You squirm at your own face smiling back at you on the screen. Coming after that beautiful woman, you feel like an absolute sucker. Like the kid who's unfortunate enough to go after the prom queen’s dance and musical number in the high school talent show.

‘What were you doing here?’ he asks, pausing at one of the pictures where you have a champagne glass in hand.

‘It was my best friend’s wedding.’

‘It’s a great photo of you,’ he smiles at you.

‘Thanks.’

After clicking through the rest of the photos, you panic when you see where his finger is poised to go. ‘Wait - what are you doing?’

Jack turns to you, confused. ‘I’m swiping right.’

You shake your head. ‘No, you swipe right if you’re interested.’

He looks amused at how you drag out the word as if it’s four separate ones. He nods slowly, ‘I know, darlin’.’

You blink. ‘But… you weren’t interested in the last one.’

‘Yes, and?’

You squint at him. ‘She’s gorgeous. And I…’

‘What?’ he prompts you.

‘I - I look nothing like her.’

He throws his hands up in frustration. ‘I don’t know how many other ways I can put this, darlin’. I’m not interested in her.’

‘Why not?’ you ask, almost accusingly.

‘Why should I be?’

You sigh, agitated. ‘Because you’re so handsome and she’s beautiful -’

‘You’re beautiful,’ he interrupts you.

That shuts you up. Your heart is set to claw its way out of your chest any moment, especially when he’s looking at you like that.

‘You really mean to swipe right?’ you ask in the smallest voice.

A smile twists his lips. ‘I kissed you, didn’t I?’

‘I thought it was like - a happy birthday kiss,’ you admit with air quotes.

He laughs, the rich sound warming you. ‘You think I just kiss anyone who has their birthday on a pack trip? Like how you get a free dessert at Applebee’s?’

You flush. ‘I don’t know!’

He chuckles, reaching out to brush your cheek with the back of his fingers. ‘Darlin’, I can assure you, I don’t just go ‘round kissin’ guests.’

With that, he swipes right emphatically, and your phone buzzes with the notification that there are new potential matches nearby.

From the corner of your eye, you see his profile, which you set up for him just yesterday, come up.

You turn to meet his stare. Without even glancing at the screen, you swipe right - there’s a matching ping from both of your phones.

Jack’s voice drops an octave, raspy in the tense silence. ‘So - what happens now?’

If you were with another man, your mind would’ve wandered - thinking about how you haven’t been with anyone but your ex for the last three years. Worrying about how you haven’t felt a man’s touch in months, if you’d be any good.

But it’s not any other man. It’s Jack. And he’s kissing you, lips latched to yours wet and restless, every stuttering exhale sending your head spinning. One big hand curls around your waist, the other sliding down your denim-covered thigh to twist your body towards him. Your head is full of him - his earthy scent with a touch leather, hoarse grunts as he swipes his tongue into your desperate mouth. You taste chocolate on his tongue - and dark rum, must be Poppy's secret ingredient - as it moulds around yours.

You can only cling to him, one arm hooked around the back of his neck, fingers sneaking into his still damp hair as you angle your mouth to kiss him deeper. Your other hand finds the seat of the couch as you clamber atop of him, your knees on either side of his slim hips.

You haven’t made out with a man, fully-clothed, in years. Jack seems happy to keep kissing you - deeply and skilfully - like he has all the time in the world. You jump when he cups your bottom through your jeans, nails scratching a path down the back of your thighs, making you whimper.

‘Jack,’ you pant when you pull back for air, eyes struggling to focus on his intense gaze on you.

His next words are unexpected.

‘I have to tell you somethin’.’

Your stomach drops and your body, pliable under him just now, goes board-stiff as dread runs icy in your veins. You jump to the worst conclusion - was he just joking that he wanted you? Is this some kind of elaborate prank? You should’ve known it’s too good to be true -

Jack senses your anxiety and holds your face between his palms, calloused palms grounding you and resting his forehead on yours. ‘Darlin’, listen, it’s nothin’ serious. I just want it to be out in the open between us before anythin’ else happens.’

‘Okay,’ you exhale shakily.

He takes a breath, and says, ‘Champ - I think he meant to set us up.’

You blink. ‘How do you mean?’

He adjusts his grip on you, hands falling to your waist to pull you close. ‘The Kingsman have been comin’ to the ranch every year in the same week for the past ten years. There’s no way they just rescheduled - I know for a fact Champ changed their dates just so he can get us alone.’

A chuckle bubbles in your throat and you let out a low whistle. ‘That’s a bold move.’

He grins. ‘That’s Champ for you. Can’t say I’m too mad at him right now though.’

‘Me neither. In fact - I think I owe him a fruit basket.’

He’s still chortling when you kiss him again. And this time, he pushes your hips into his unequivocally, and you gasp at the hard bulge in his jeans that nudges at you insistently. You rub against him, the heat and tension quickly escalating between you.

Jack skims his teeth along your exposed collarbone and his palms find their way under your blouse. ‘It’s a very pretty top, darlin’ - can I take it off?’

‘Please.’

The hitch in his breath when your bra comes into view goes straight to your head. You bait him teasingly, ‘You’ve seen me in a bra before, cowboy.’

He tries to smile at you, but it comes out as a pained grimace. ‘I remember darlin’ - you made me just as hard that time.’

Your lips part in a question. ‘What?’

He drags a kiss over your neck as he confesses, ‘When you jumped on me in the lake, you got me so hard. I had to rub one out in the shower. Came all over my fist thinkin’ about your beautiful tits pressed up against me.’

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, but it’s alright because Jack kisses his way down the swell of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his mouth through the thin fabric, making you squirm. ‘Can I take this off, darlin’?’

In your delirium, your fingers skid uselessly off the buckle, so he reaches back to help you, working the clasp open with a practised flick. He peels the bra from you, and with reverential hands, he pushes your breasts together and his tongue laves a wet trail from tip to aching tip.

‘Jack,’ you whine. There’s too much denim between you, it’s not enough. You feel the slick dripping from between your legs, probably staining your jeans, even though he’s gone nowhere near it. ‘Want you. Now.’

‘Want you too, darlin’,’ he growls into your skin.

A thought strikes you suddenly, like thunder on a clear day, and you push him back with clumsy hands. ‘Wait - wait. Do you have any protection on you?’

Jack freezes, and your heart drops. It’s not like there’s a corner shop you can nip out to for a quick purchase -

He clears his throat and peers at you sheepishly from under thick eyelashes. ‘Ok this is embarrassin’ - but they sent a box of condoms with the cake.’

Relief floods you as you burst out laughing. ‘You wouldn’t believe the five-star rave review I’m going to leave on Tripadvisor.’

You bounce off the surface of the bed where Jack drops you, bare back hitting the soft duvet. Just that sensation alone is enough to make you moan.

Your top and bra are abandoned where he took them off you on the floor in front of the fireplace. His shirt is discarded somewhere between the living room and your bedroom.

Blood pounds in your ears as you watch Jack take off his jeans, pushing them down and kicking them off impatiently, together with his socks. He crawls over you, cock straining in the confines of his boxers. There’s just something about being underneath this man that has your heartbeat rioting in your chest. Blinking up at him through your lashes, so broad and all-encompassing that you can barely see anything other than his silhouette, you pull him down by the nape of his neck for another kiss. Your lips are swollen but you don’t care, wanting more.

You reach down to unbutton your own jeans and undo the zipper, the metallic purr loud in the stillness. His big hands join yours, shucking the denim from your skin, leaving you writhing in your soaked panties. A low groan echoes in his rib cage as he hovers over you, close enough that you feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch. You arch off the bed for contact, and he deliberately holds back with a cocky smile that has you letting out an almost bratty wail, which makes him grin even wider. Dragging his eyes over your almost naked form, he patiently kisses down your throat and sucks an earlobe into his wet mouth.

Jack drawls into your ear, his voice deep as sin. ‘I want you to show me how you touched yourself that night, darlin’. When you were thinkin’ about me.’

Your eyes widen, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Hooking your fingers into the sides of your panties, you slowly push them down your hips, bringing your knees up to untangle them from your ankles. Jack’s nostrils flare when you part your legs and his dark stare lands on your pussy.

‘You’re so pretty, darlin’,’ he praises you, one hand palming the back of your thigh before pushing it right up against your body, splaying you open to his hungry gaze.

You’ve never done this, never let anyone watch you touch yourself - the debauchery makes your pussy clench. But there’s no taint of embarrassment with the way he’s staring down at you, jaw slack and his hands gripping hard on your inner thighs as if he needs to keep them open - not that he has to, you want him to see.

Dipping into the wetness that’s pooled in your pussy, you trace a glossy trail up to your clit, just like you did that night in the dark. With two fingers, you circle and rub and tease, and you hope he can hear how wet you are over your panting breath.

‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he whispers fiercely, his moustache tickling your ear. ‘Tell me - does it feel good?’

Somehow, you muster the sass to talk back, ‘I bet your fingers will feel better.’

That unleashes a feral growl from Jack, and he surges forward to kiss you, before ripping away from your face to grab your wrist, sucking your fingers into his mouth. Pressing into the cradle of your thighs, his clothed erection grinds into your wetness, making you wriggle beneath him. ‘You taste amazin’. What about my tongue? Please - can I eat this gorgeous pussy?’

Self-doubt pins you to the mattress, unmoving. You avoid his keen eyes that have no doubt picked up on your sudden change in demeanour.

What kind of woman would turn down such an offer? That girl he swiped left on Tinder certainly wouldn’t have. What would he think of you?

A gentle kiss pressed to your lips dislodges your thoughts. ‘You can say no, darlin’. I can make you come with my fingers, and my cock,’ he groans when a shiver runs through you. ‘Or maybe even my words would be enough?’

You mewl, and he hums into your throat. ‘As much as I love these sounds you’re making, tell me what you want, darlin’.’

‘Can we take a raincheck on your mouth?’ you ask timidly.

A gentle thumb brushes your cheek. ‘Of course. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the suggestion.’

Recovering your composure - or lack thereof - you give him a crooked smile and reach up to grip his broad shoulders, letting his weight anchor you to the present. ‘I’m far from uncomfortable, cowboy.’

He chuckles and retorts, ‘But I don’t want you to be comfortable, darlin’. I want to make you come so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.’

You choke on an inhale at his words, but somehow, you manage a brash comeback. ‘Good thing we’re travelling by horseback, huh?’

A laugh rumbles in his chest as he takes your lips again, and you sag under his ministrations. Easing your thighs apart, two fingers glide over your sensitive clit, mapping invisible patterns as he mouths at your neck, your hips thrusting into the contact. You feel him rut against your hip, a shudder running through your bodies in tandem as he pushes one finger into your heat.

‘Fuck,’ he husks as he sinks all the way in down to the knuckle. ‘Such a tight pussy, darlin’.’

‘More,’ you say bossily, and you breathe a yes - both in relief and also not enough - when he reenters you with two fingers.

He shifts, bracing himself on one side so he can watch him emerge from you, shiny with your slick, before pushing them back in. Your pussy is loud, squelching around his thick digits as he pumps deeply into you. You cry out when he brings his other hand to your clit, rubbing insistently, and he grunts at the gush of wetness he feels around him.

‘That’s it,’ he growls. ‘Getting so wet on my fingers, darlin’. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock - fuck, I’m so hard for you.’

‘Harder, Jack,’ you urge him, hips lifting from the bed to get more friction. ‘I’m gonna cum.’

No sooner do the words leave your mouth when you feel it - your stomach starts to tighten and the air gets knocked clean out of your lungs in anticipation of the fall. Jack eases up and over your body again, whispering encouragingly in your ear as you break, telling you in his delicious Southern timbre how tight your cunt is squeezin’ him, how you’re drippin’ on him, how he can’t wait to push his cock into you.

You seek out his mouth, teeth and tongue connecting as your high gives way to a drunken sluggishness. Your limbs are heavy as you pull him down onto you, caging your smaller body in his grasp, still inside you, relishing the snug fit even as your pussy stills.

He kicks off his boxers, and you jump when he brushes the velvety underside of his cock through your wet folds. He slurs against the shell of your ear, ‘Want you now, darlin’.’

‘Yes’ you beg, head thrown back into the soft bed. ‘Need you inside me.’

He fumbles with a condom packet, tearing it open with trembling hands before rolling the rubber over himself. You watch him, running your palms languidly up and down his firm back, which has him preening under your touch. ‘You definitely didn’t photoshop that nude pic, cowboy.’

‘As if I’d know how to do that,’ he chuckles, settling on top of you again. You hook your knees onto his hips, gasping when he runs a finger along your leaking seam. ‘Ready for me?’

With a nod, you reach down to line up his tip with your entrance, your noses bumping together, and you stop breathing as you both listen to the wet give of your cunt as he nudges just the head in. The air is pushed out of your lungs as he inches in, his grip bruising on your inner thighs as he grits his teeth. ‘So tight, darlin’. You feel fuckin’ incredible.’

Too full to make a sound, you can only stare when his face twist into pained pleasure when he finally fills you to the hilt. Your words come out garbled. ‘Jack - you’re so big.’

Something like possessiveness colours his tone, and he pinches your chin so that you have nowhere to look but at him. ‘Yeah, darlin’? Am I bigger than your ex?’

‘So much bigger,’ you whine.

He shudders like it’s exactly what he wants to hear, shifting just the tiniest bit inside you, which is enough to make you moan. ‘Good. You ready for me to fuck you with my big cock, darlin’?’

Remembering the way he reacted yesterday, you scrape together the last of your brain cells to say with all the cheek you can muster. ‘Yes, sir.’

Oh, the way his eyes turn completely black as your words sink in has you squirming and fisting the sheets. He swallows thickly, and you see his arms flex as he holds his body over you to watch your face. He draws back slowly, savouring the slow slide out of the tight clench of your pussy - mercy, even that feels incredible - before plunging back into you with a reckless snap of his hips, eliciting a loud cry from you that he swallows in a hard kiss.

Maybe you’re naive, but you didn’t know missionary can be like this. The way he’s groaning into your throat, into your tits as he sucks on them, makes your insides twist and your nails dig into the meat of his ass. When he’s had his fill, he plasters his firm front to you, pressing your foreheads and your humid, panting breaths together. It’s so intimate your eyes slide shut of their own accord, and you snag onto his dark hair to press him deeper into your skin as he scrapes his teeth from your clavicle to your shoulder, the sensation making you keen. The lewd, rhythmic slap of skin on skin makes you even wetter, the blunt drag of his cock in your pussy makes you keen for more.

‘Harder,’ you whimper. ‘I can take it, Jack.’

Pulling back suddenly, he sits up on his knees, and you have a split second to trace your heavy eyes over him - skin flushed in the moonlight, the firm lines of his arms swelling and contracting as he manhandles you clean off the bed, still buried deep inside you, rearranging your legs around his waist. Leaning over you, one hand by your head and the other holding your curve of your ass, he fucks into you, harder and deeper at this angle. He feels bigger like this, barely squeezing into you without a fight.

‘Like this, darlin’?’ he asks you, but by the way he’s smiling down at you - warmly but with just a healthy touch of confidence - it’s clearly a rhetorical question.

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ you call out anyway even though he doesn’t need the endorsement. You grab onto the pillows behind you as he jostles your entire body, making the bed shake on its frame. His lips catch one nipple after the other as they jiggle lasciviously under his movements.

‘Such a good girl, askin’ for what she wants,’ he grunts, regarding you with dark eyes. ‘Need to feel you cum on my cock. Will you give me one more, darlin’?’

You nod frantically as two of his fingers breach your swollen lips, and you suck crudely on them. You savour the look of utter abandon on his face as he watches your little show, tasting yourself on his skin. Now spit-slick, they retreat - almost reluctantly - from your mouth to find your clit again, sensitive as you shudder from even the gentlest touch. It won’t take much, his cock begins to hit somewhere deep inside that makes you quiver.

This one starts deep inside you. The beginning of a devastating high that swells and builds inside your pussy as he continues to pound into you, granting you no quarter - until you’re clenching desperately around him, tugging on his hair and screaming his name. His rhythm starts to stutter and broken words fall from his lips. ‘That’s it, darlin’ - you feel amazin’ - oh fuck yes, ride it out with me, ride it - I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna -’

Is it wrong that he wishes he’s fucking you with nothing in between? That he’s cumming into your bare, pulsing cunt, instead of the condom? That he wants to see you dripping with him, just so that he can swipe at the dribble and have you lick his fingers clean?

With one last push of his hips, his arms give and he crumples onto you, barely managing to hold his weight so he doesn’t crush you. He hums at the way your body rises and falls against him as you catch your breath. You squeak, voice hoarse from how vocal you’ve been, when he rubs his nose into your throat’s sensitive hollow. Your body instinctively seeks him out as you stretch languidly, movements slow as syrup as the adrenaline seeps from your system, only to leave a deeply sated exhaustion.

The sweat that’s pooled in the dip of his back is rapidly cooling, and he feels goosebumps break across your bare skin as the chill sets in. Shifting off of you, he presses his front to your back and yanks the duvet from beneath him to drape it over you both, pressing a wet kiss on the nape of your neck as his softened cock falls out of you, making you shiver.

The condom is so slippery with your cum that he can barely get any purchase on it. Carefully removing it and tying it up, he throws it at the trash can by the bedside table when you twist around to smile at him. He returns it, leaning over to kiss you.

‘Did you - was it - good for you?’ he asks with a touch of insecurity that you find infinitely endearing.

‘I would count any day with two orgasms as a pretty good one,’ you joke with a lazy grin, your eyelids drooping as you slide your hand over his bigger one, tracing your fingertips over the ridges and veins. ‘But seriously - I think you’ve ruined all future birthdays for me. So thanks for that, cowboy.’

And if you’re being honest with yourself - he’s probably ruined all other men for you as well.

But that’s a whole other can of worms you can’t open right now.

‘Good. That was exactly what I was goin’ for,’ he flashes you a playfully smug smile.

He gathers you into his arms so that your head is tucked underneath his chin, his body bracketing yours with an arm around your waist. Wanting to feel every part of you, he wedges a leg between yours so that he’s entirely tangled up in you.

He knows, without looking, the exact moment you fall asleep - your soft body going pliant in his grasp and your breath evening out all at once.

More often than not, he can’t sleep after sex. In that midnight purgatory, his fingers almost always itch for a cigarette that he has long given up and guilt usually finds a way to settle deep into his bones when the pleasure dissipates, leaving him staring blankly at the ceiling until it’s light enough for him to sneak out and drive away.

But tonight, he lets go of all of that.

Neither of you move until the morning light spills in through the window at sunrise.

Jack's Tinder profile:

Horsey notes (optional reading): Temperament varies widely by breed and by personality of each horse. The school I used to ride at retrains racehorses for schooling, and I don't think any of the thoroughbreds would let you anywhere near them with tinsel 😂 One thing that you could do with a horse is desensitisation training. It's a wonderful thing to do and you have a much safer horse if they don't spook at every little thing or sound.

#jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #kingsman golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels au #agent whiskey au

762 notes · View notes

guacala · 1 year

Note

Bella ramsey x reader and them doing cute tiktoks and couple trends pls pls pls!!!

tiktok headcannons, bella ramsey

masterlist pairing: bella ramsey x fem!reader summary: you and bella on tiktok word count: 769 warnings: language, fluff overload a/n: girl, i don’t have tiktok so i just based it off what i’ve seen, and i'm so sorry if its bad 😭 also, this is compensation for my met gala brainrot on monday, i'm so sorry...

you would 100% be the one to get tiktok, and Bella would just not care for it

like we’ve all seen how horrible people can be towards Bella on social media, and if we’re being completely honest, tiktok is extremely toxic too

so yeah, I think that they would be fine with you having it, they just didn’t want it on their mind

you, like the rest of the fucking world, would’ve gotten tiktok during the pandemic

it was a last resort, okay? everyone was bored and desperate and your mental health was already shit

you didn’t even post anything till the pandemic was relatively over (spring 2022 ish), and you rarely ever posted anyway

whenever you did post though, it was stupid shit you decided to do with your friends, usually some strange trend that seemed to cure your boredom for a bit

that was around the same time that you met Bella, but you made sure that you never posted them

obviously, since you were attached at the hip from the moment you met, there were some slip-ups

it was known that Bella was dating someone, but nobody knew who you even were as Bella would only refer to you as “my partner” in interviews

you wouldn’t even know how people found your account, but stalkers will stalk and trolls will troll

yeah, that definitely made you stop posting completely and it wasn’t till after the last of us finished airing that you finally felt comfortable enough to post again.

you wouldn’t normally post Bella on any of your social media, but there were instances where you just had an urge to, and, well, Bella had a hard time saying no to you

you definitely made that one tiktok where you have the phone and you pass it up to Bella and you turn around to hug them (x)

“can you hold my phone for me, please? i need to tie my shoe” you would ask one day when you’re out late, walking around after going to dinner. “yeah,” they said as you handed her the phone above your head. they looked at the camera a bit confused. they were used to you taking photos and videos, but it was facing them, which was highly unusual. while they were in their confusion, you took advantage of the fact that their arms were still up and straight, and turned around to bury your face in their chest. their face immediately melted, and they stopped grabbing the phone with both hands and wrapped their arms around you. “you’re so cute, i love you,” Bella said quietly, but it could still be heard in the video with the black screen. “i love you more,” you could be heard responding. “not possible,” they said as you giggled and responded by saying “possible” as they kissed all over your face.

they would also 100% be the okok to your lala

“Bells?” you had said as you laid your head on their stomach and you both scrolled mindlessly on your phones. “yeah, my love?” “you’re the okok to my lala.” “what?” they giggled as they sat up a bit, looking down at your face. you shrug as you say “you heard me”. “nooo, what does that mean?” they whine as they pinch your side, and you let out a small sound in protest. “nobody really knows, it just is.” “that makes no sense!” “yeah it does!” you say loudly with a smile on your face. “no!” “okay, okay, look at this and sing what you hear,” you say as you pull up the sound and turn the camera to you. “baby, you’re not making any sense,” they say as you start the video. “just do what i said,” you demand as the music starts and they playfully roll their eyes. they start singing “okokok” in their beautiful voice, as you start to mouth “lala la lala” and they look at you in shock. “how does that even work!” Bella yells as you throw your head back and laugh as you end the video.

you also did that one that goes “tell me how you know your boyfriend won’t cheat on you without telling me that your boyfriend won’t cheat on you”

and it honestly just became a combination of photos and videos of Bella being clingy and text messages that went along the lines of:

bella: i miss you :( you: i saw you an hour ago bella: your point? you: omg, okay, i miss you too :/

yeah, everyone was obsessed with the two of you

as they should be, of course

#bella ramsey #bellaramsey #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey fanfiction #bella ramsey fanfic #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey headcanons #the last of us #tiktok #requests #lgbtq #bloopbloopbloop10

337 notes · View notes

mysteriouslysaltypoetry · 9 months

Text

Cold Nights

Chapter One: Raph x reader story A/N: Hi hello! this is my first time ever posting this kind of story in here! pls be kind and lemme know of any thing that i can do better for the story. Raphael has been my favourite character for forever now so i wanted to show hims some love! This is in the Bayverse universe but some referencesto the other iterations might appear! Chapter 2/3 This was easy enough. Just a look around the club to see if any weird activities were going on, Jones was somewhere in there as well, much easier for him to walk around all these people and mingle. Meanwhile Raph was on a corner, hiding in the shadow, even if things were less tense for them on the surface it didn’t mean that some folks wouldn’t throw him and his brothers dirty looks here and there. So it was just easier to stay low, even if having to do it made his blood boil.

‘At least the music is nice.’ he thought, might not be what he listens to the most, but jazz was soothing, helped him concentrate, he might even tap his foot to it. The fact that the girl singing was fine as hell didn’t help either, the dress she was wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination and her eyes were piercing through the crowd, almost as if looking for anything in particular “huh… interesting .”

The night on and on, Jones came up to him a few times, said that nothing was going on, no one saw anything during the party so the calls about the suspicious activity was probably just some drunk guy wanting attention. Ah well, at least he got to have some fun and nice drinks Raph thinks, making his way to the outside of the club, it was a bit cold so the area was empty, or so he thought because the smell of smoke brought him back from his thoughts. Lo and behold it was the singer, she was eyeing him curiously, an amused smile gracing her lips. He wasn’t going to lie, she was starting to make him a bit twitchy.

“What? Have ya never seen a mutant before?” It came out more aggressive than he intended but oh well, not like he is gonna see her again.

“Heh! If you count the times I’ve seen you in TV? I’ve seen them plenty of times.” She says with a chuckle throwing her cigarette away to walk closer to him “Relax big guy, I ain’t looking because to be rude, I was just taking you in. You’re taller than I thought, TV really doesn’t do it justice.” She laughs.

His shoulders relax, a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in leaves his mouth “Shit- sorry I’m just used to the other kind of the staring” leaning against the wall Raph takes a good look at her, she was still in her fancy dress but her hair was now up, held together by a fancy hairclip ‘Must be one of those rich girls’ he thinks already making a mental note to be wary.

“Oh I know. I noticed you were basically glued to the corner of the club, tense as all hell and looking everywhere like something was gonna jump atcha” She crosses her arms and looks up at him with a small smile.

‘So she WAS paying attention to her surroundings… REAL good attention’ Raph’s about to say something else when his phone vibrates, it’s Jones telling him that they can go, the party was over and nothing of importance happened so there was no need for them to be there anymore.

!Hockey Prick!

-Dude lets just go, this thing is over and nothing happened, the others are waiting back at the lair.

Raph rolls his eyes, he supposed his friend (ugh) was right, there was no need to stay any longer than need be… even if this very pretty girl WAS making up conversation with him there was no way that she would really want anything to do with him besides kill some curiosity she had from seeing him around on television. When he looks back at her she raises an eyebrow at him, clearly waiting for an answer.

He sighs “Well, as fun as it was meeting ya, I gotta run, got a friend waiting for me at the entrance.” He nods at her, starting to peel himself from the wall slowly. She hums lowly.

“Hm, I was hoping we could chat some more. But alright, wouldn’t wanna keep your buddy waiting now do we?” she says, extending her hand at him “Name’s (Y/N) by the way.”

“Raphael, but you probably already knew that.” He shakes her hand carefully, her skin soft and cold against his.

“I prefer knowing names from the people themselves.” She tilts her head, friendly grin plastered on her face as they bid their goodbyes.

He chuckles and nods, finally walking to meet up with Casey, a warm feeling on his chest for the first time in the chilly night.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2016 #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt #bayverse turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt casey #raphael x reader #raphael x you #raphael x oc #raph tmnt #raph x reader #pls i love him so much he is such a dork in the live action movies.#Also very prickly #But it's ok cause he is pookie #tmnt 2014

47 notes · View notes

ohnococo · 5 months

Text

Fight Night Sukuna: An Infodump

I’ve put together a bit of a Fight Night info dump thanks to the cute Sukuna cat video made by @ehnonymousse (and me going through some of my character notes to write a request for MMA Sukuna) . These are in no specific order/format - just however I pulled them from my notes and some random observations!

Under a cut for length 💛

Sukuna doesn’t actually dislike junk food as much as he tends to claim, but he’s not in his 20s anymore and is already large and bulky enough that he has to be strict with his diet to make weight before fights. If he ate how he truly wanted he’d have no chance. Still, he indulges between fights and as a result gets a little soft around the middle. His lower abs are slightly obscured by a rounded stomach (though it takes a lot more than that for his Adonis belt to lose prominence) and his pecs get softer. That being said even when he’s at his leanest he doesn’t have that hard muscle. He does when flexing, yes, but it’s soft when he’s not.

He has a definite sweet tooth, but prefers bitter flavours with his sweet like dark chocolate and coffee. Had he taken reader out to the cafe we see in Chapter 5 when he wasn’t in the process of eating clean and cutting weight, we would have definitely seen him ordering their take on maritozzi, filled with coffee cream.

I’ll just pop screenshots in to make referencing it easy, but as far as Sukuna was concerned he and reader were dating while they were fucking around and partying together. He hadn’t necessarily intended that last night as a goodbye, just a break to messing around like that because he needed to train and be clean for potential random drug tests.

But those feelings, and showing them in a way other than strictly physically, were new to him and he doesn’t realize he and reader isn’t on the same page until this exchange in Chapter 5:

The “sounds like you’re asking me on a date” throws him because, well, as far as he was concerned every night out after the first was a date. That effectively confirms his suspicions that yeah, maybe doing drugs and drinking and fucking all night doesn’t exactly come across as “hey i’m boyfriend material” to most people.

On that note when Sukuna sees he isn’t in reader’s phone under his name, and instead as 👹👑, he’s actually hurt. But he doesn’t really address those types of things when he’s several hours in to filling his body with all kinds of things that obscure his judgement so he deals with that hurt the best way he knows how that isn’t violence: with his dick.

Sukuna was actually really excited to fight Toji. They’d done an entertaining amount of trash talking in press leading up to the fight, and Sukuna loves that shit. Plus it’s not often he gets to fight someone as tricky as Toji.

Also Sukuna knows reader has been looking him up online during Chapter 6 at the frozen yogurt place when they say Toji’s name. Sukuna had never mentioned his name specifically.

The first time Sukuna and reader have sex sober, at his house in Chapter 4, solidifies to Sukuna that he is absolutely down bad. In a way he’d thought his usual indifference would return after some time away, but it only makes him realize he doesn’t want to have that kind of distance again.

Sukuna sort of lazily sliding his fingers inside of reader after sex is a type of comfort thing for him. Think of it as the opposite of the implied awkward feeling that comes with post-nut clarity. He feels accepted, and likes basking in that afterglow as he remind himself he was inside of you and left something behind.

He loves having his scalp rubbed and his hair tugged, it gives him goosebumps. Like he literally pays for scalp massages, he loves it that much.

#my writing #writing stuff✨#💛 fight night

27 notes · View notes

camsthisky · 2 years

Note

For the Extravaganza: "Ladies love a man who's good with kids" from the third list down on your post. It'd be cool if you did something with Dick in the 17-21 age range!

I am still trying to figure out Robin!Jason's voice, and this was a perfect chance to practice!

“Alfred!” says Dick before Jason can get in a word of hello. “How the heck am I supposed to take care of a baby?!”

Jason blinks incredulously and tightens his grip on the manor phone he’d just picked up after its incessant ringing had started to annoy him. “Why do you have a baby?”

“Jason?” Dick asks. “Where’s Alfred?”

“Not here,” Jason says. “Again, Dickface, why do you have a baby?”

“Not important.”

Jason takes the cordless phone and sits up on the kitchen counter by the window, peering out into the late afternoon to see if he can spot Alfred pulling up in the driveway. “Kinda sounds important.”

“I need Alfred,” Dick says again. There’s a wailing sound, and yep. That’s a baby. DIck sighs in frustration. “Crap.”

“Been crying a lot?” Jason wonders.

“Yeah,” Dick says, and he sounds resigned to the fact that he’s not going to get Alfred. Jason’s the only one home right now, after all. It’s him or nothing. “I can’t get her to calm down.”

“Maybe she’s hungry.”

“I already tried feeding her.” Dick makes a shushing noise that does absolutely nothing to stop the crying. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. Her diaper is clean, she doesn’t want to eat, she won’t go down for a nap, and she keeps throwing away her pacifier. I have no idea what to do.”

It’s the first time Jason has ever heard Dick sound so lost. In the entire year he’s been living with Bruce, the times he’s seen or talked to Dick, the man has always seemed so self-assured.

It kind of throws Jason for a loop. Enough for him to start wracking his own brains for a solution. “Uh. Maybe she misses her mom? Or dad? Or whoever usually takes care of her.”

Dick is silent for a moment, before quietly, he says, “Maybe.”

“Are you babysitting?” Jason pushes. “Because a distraction might be the best option, if her mom isn’t available right now.”

“It’s my neighbor’s kid,” Dick finally says. “I heard her crying through the wall this morning, and when I went to go check it out, her mom was passed out in the kitchen. She’s at the hospital right now, and her partner is five hours away at the earliest. I’m all she’s got right now.”

Jason swallows past the sudden lump in his throat. “Bummer.”

Dick huffs an unamused laugh. “Yeah. Bummer.”

“Maybe I can head over there and help?” Jason offers.

It’s not like this would be the first time he’s ever watched kids before. He used to babysit his downstairs neighbors’ twin terrors for a while before his mom died.

There’s another uptick in crying on the other line, and Dick’s voice is muffled as he talks to the baby softly. After a minute the crying decreases in volume.

“Yeah,” Dick says. “If you want to, that’d be great. It’d be good to have another hand until her other mom gets here.”

“Okay,” Jason says. “Alfred should be back soon. I’ll ask him to drop me off.”

“Thanks, Jason,” says Dick. “I know I’m not around the manor a lot, but I still appreciate this. And I would come running if you ever asked me to.”

Jason shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, well. Ladies love a man who's good with kids, right? I’m only doing this for practice. And for the baby, because you’re hopeless.”

Dick laughs, for the first time the entire call, sounding somewhat like himself. “I guess I am, yeah. Thanks, Jay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Dickhead.”

Jason hangs up to Dick’s uptick in laughter, and tries to pretend he isn’t as red in the face as he feels.

He jumps off the counter and starts to pack up his homework. Hopefully, Alfred will be here soon, and Jason can get to helping out his older brother. That’s what family does, right?

#cam answers #danddamage #dick grayson celebration extravaganza #camryn writes #i'm posting the shorter ones first while i work on the longer ones #longer fics mean longer time to edit #dc #jason todd #dick grayson

48 notes · View notes

jdgo51 · 6 months

Text

Embracing Loss to Discover Life

Today's inspiration comes from:

Treasures in the Dark

by Katherine Wolf

I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world. — John 16:33 NLT

Have you ever given up anything for Lent? I’ve always really liked the idea of sharing in a season of repentance and reflection with the global Christian community. I mean, in theory. Despite my good intentions, I almost never remember Lent is happening until we’re already three or four days in.

At that point, I’m deep into the leftover king cake, and I’ve already spent several hours watching TV and scrolling mindlessly on my phone. So sugar, television, and social media fasts have to be struck from the list, right? Then I scramble to find some treat or habit I haven’t indulged in since Lent began. I usually squeak by with something slightly less concrete, like gossiping or complaining. (It still counts! You know you’ve done it too.)

During a recent Lenten season, a friend posted online about her fascinating decision to give up her “illusion of immortality.” Intense, I know. She explained that if Lent prepares us to observe the role of death in Christ’s story, it should also prepare us to confront the role of death in our own stories. So for forty days she set aside time to actively acknowledge and reflect on her eventual death and the deaths of all the people she loves. (Needless to say, she’s a riot at parties!)

As I followed her online revelations, I had a revelation of my own. By very different means and without consent, I had given up my illusion of immortality too. At twenty-six years old, I’d seen and touched and tasted death when I suffered a catastrophic stroke without warning.

To me, death was no longer an abstraction. It was an actual experience, and now I had to decide what to do with that.

I’m most tempted to dig my heels into denial. To deflect with empty optimism. To numb out to the pain (hence the king cake and the TV and the scrolling). I want to do whatever the opposite of a Lenten death reflection is.

At the end of my friend’s forty-day practice, she shared how she’d come to understand that death is not something to be denied, avoided, or even begrudgingly accepted. Death makes the expanse of a lifetime finite and therefore precious. Death is like the gilded frame that gives definition to our living days. It’s the built-in counterbalance that throws all beauty and goodness and aliveness into greater relief.

Death is not to be ignored.

I think all this is true of literal, end-of-life death. But it’s also true of all our losses. What is loss if not a type of death, after all? The death of a dream or a relationship or an ability. Before my online friend could see death for what it really was, she had to be brave enough to get on eye level with it, spend time with it, and call it by its name. The same, I think, can be said for our losses.

To take its full form, resurrection requires both life and loss

If you’ve spent more than twenty-four hours on earth, you’ve probably figured out that this place can be just a little dark. And sometimes, pitch-black. If you are of the Christian tradition like I am, then you know our shared faith doesn’t shy away from acknowledging the dark stuff. In fact, the first few sentences of the Bible tell us that God carved the world out of a formless, empty void. Ages and ages later, Jesus reiterated the same idea without mincing any words:

Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. — John 16:33

Hey, you can’t say He didn’t warn us!

The very raw material of reality is darkness. So why are we taken by total surprise when suffering and sorrow find us, and why are we so prone to want to wish it away?

Ignoring loss, denying grief, numbing out to pain, or strong-arming our souls into premature closure are all such tempting tactics. But these routes are less than useful. And maybe even harmful in the long run.

Before we can heal, we have to grieve what’s been lost.

We have to look at our empty hands and feel the heavy absence of the thing we loved. Naming our hurts is the beginning of seeing the goodness of our lives with clearer eyes. What is grief, after all, if not leftover love? To mourn a loss is to recognize a good gift you had.

To take its full form, resurrection requires both life and loss.

I learned that from Jesus Himself, who died a very real death to prove that a second-chance life is available to us, be it symbolic or literal. When I don’t name the deaths and the losses and the hurts, I rob myself of the full experience of the new life that follows. If death is inevitable, it might as well be useful.

Jesus’ second-chance life set into motion a staggered but certain rhythm of resurrection, echoing through reality: disappointment then delight, hard then good, wounding then healing, loss then gain, death then new life.

But before I can begin to experience resurrection, I have to grieve what’s been lost. If it’s true for me, could it be true for you too?

God, when the night is darkest, when the pain feels overwhelming, when loss and grief crouch at our doorstep — the light of Your presence orients us. You hold us close, lift our heads, comfort us, and speak into our hungry souls the promise of life with You and the hope of our heavenly home. Thank you, God. Amen.

Adapted with permission from Treasures in the Dark by Katherine Wolf, copyright Katherine Wolf.

0 notes

dlnj · 1 year

Text

Hey fellow diaper lovers , so I don’t know how many people have seen my posts here and know what I’m trying to do. So I’ll give ya the run down really quick, I’m trying to get my doctor or another doctor to put in in my medical charts that I am diaper dependent which then will get insurance to cover it. I’ve been becoming more and more brave about my diapered life and am working up the courage to start talking to my doctor about having accidents and becoming a bed wetter. I fully intend to tell her that I’ve been back in diaper full time bed use for 8 years now and if I go without a diaper I will wet the bed. My doctor is pretty understanding and will most likely just put it in my chart and not get to crazy about trying to run tests and what not. Anyway so I know that doctor which makes it a little uncomfortable (and I actually to leak daily and think I have the begging of urge incontinence and stress incontinence as well. That being said I thought I would start being open about it with total strangers and I was also curious if somehow I could find an adult diaper bank but wasn’t able to locate one near me or anywhere in this area at all, so I thought maybe call a hospital cause they might know better than I do and a lot of the time people donate left over diapers from someone who passed or for what ever reason. So I spoke with This lady over the phone (young probably around my age or younger I’m 38) and explained to her that I have been back in diapers full time at night for 8 years and that I’m not a rich man as I support my family in my check alone we are able to do and buy what ever we want or need but we are on a budget and diapers are part of that budget , I have an order of my typical diapers tranquility ATN which are the best by far my favorite that should have been here already but they have not yet arrived and it could be 2-3 more days without my diapers , that’s a whole lot of laundry and bedding changes instead of just throwing out my diaper which normally lasts all night and I’m not waking up in a soaking wet bed . I told her all of that asked her if she know what I could do and she said to hang on a minute and quickly came back asking me my size and if just a couple would get me through . I then asked her if maybe 4 or 5 would be possible but I would take what ever , I also told her I prefer tap style diapers rather than pull-ups thinking the hospital is bound to have real diapers . Anyway she came back on the line and told me that all they had was pull-ups but they would be more than willing to give me some to hold me over. I thought that was really nice of them. It wasn’t really about getting the diapers it was more about being brave enough to tell my story to someone in the medical field so that I feel more comfortable talking to me doctor and convincing her I am diaper dependent at night and some times during the day too. I am well on my way to being able to get my diapers through my insurance and having it down on paper so there is never a question about it again. Can’t wait til Wednesday when I see my doctor again. I see her once a month normally for my medication but she is also my primary care doctor and easy to convince , so fingers crossed that on Wednesday next week as far as anyone else is concerned I will be incontinent/diaper dependent and hopefully I’ll be able to get my diapers on an automatic delivery and the ones I want and need , free would be nice too. The best part though would be it being a medical thing which means no one should be saying anything g at all about it . I’ve been looking for a discrete pull-up for work cause I already know if I’m in a diaper of some kind I will end up using it completely by accident . I’m sure I would soon ditch the pull-ups in favor of diapers at work too, but baby steps . I’m actually proud of myself , putting myself into an embarrassing situation and it being no big deal, I even went into the hospital to get my pull-ups personally . Was actually fun . Pretty soon it’ll be a perm at 24/7 thing and I cannot wait . It’s more authentic for sure.

1 note · View note

sublimecatgalaxy · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Woman- Part 3

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Song for Part: "Lights Up"- Harry Styles

Summary: Maddy convinces the reader to go another party, knowing full well that a familiar drug dealer will be there to see the readers every move. She dresses her up like one of her dolls, getting her ready and hoping that she can be deemed as the best wingwoman of all time. But will she be successful? Or will things end badly?

Warnings: Swearing, angst, sexual comments, and drugs. One sickly sweet wholesome moment lol.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: Here's part 3, sorry if I've been slacking on Fezco lately, I'm not trying to do it purposely. My Elliot fics have been very comforting for me to write and have done my mental health good over the last few difficult days.

“I’m telling you, Y/n/n. You don’t know half the shit about Fezco that you should.” Maddy smirks, her eyes dancing over to me as she turns onto the booming street. I roll my eyes at the girl, my eyes flickering to look out the window. I already had the idea in my head that he would be here, sitting, selling like the good business man that he is. I already had a plan in my head to go over and see him, flirt with him, maybe do more if the moment seems right. I found it fun to make his head spin like a top, his freckled cheeks heat up at my words. It filled me with all sorts of butterflies, just loving getting any type of reaction out of him. Turning my attention down the road, people already spill out of the busy house can be seen a mile away, the sound of the blasting music already hurting my ears as we approach. I never underestimated high school parties and their ability to fill up like a concert. The party only started ten minutes ago and it was loud enough already to justify a noise complaint. Not that I minded. The loud music and copious amounts of people meant good alcohol and lots of it. “In fact, he’s probably here tonight.” She throws me a wink and a pretty smile, parking the car as my heart thumps against my ribs.

I’m gonna be honest, the amount of utter bullshit that’s come out of my mouth over the last few weeks is incredible. It must be a record at this point. I’ve talked big game to Fez, over the phone and through texts since the day Ash caught me outside of their house. The words were flirty, my pictures not even close to being appropriate and nor were his responses. The texts that I would wake up to in the morning from her were also not the post PG. I had confidence to say what I wanted behind the screen, sure, sending him things that I would refuse to say to him in person. So, the thought of seeing him after weeks of building tension, rocked me to my core.

He was a strong dude. I knew this, I’ve known this as long as I’ve known him. He knew what he wanted and you could tell by the look in his eyes. I knew that he wanted me from his quickly typed out curses in reply to pictures of me in front of my mirror, lacking respectable clothing. I had no shame but neither did he. And he was the one who was going to be able to come up to me, not a care in the world. He wouldn’t care who was watching, where we were, or the consequences that go along with his unholy actions.

It excited me and also made me want to curl up in a ball under his gaze.

Maddy could tell I was just dying inside, her eyes flickering over my nervous face. She reaches over, securely wrapping her arm around mine, her heels leading us into the busy house as she smiles beautifully. I felt a little weird coming with her, knowing that everyone’s eyes would be on her the moment that we walked through the front door. And I was right. Everyone seemingly stops what they’re doing, their eyes trailing up and down the both of us as we make our way through the living room and towards the back patio.

This obviously wasn’t our first party together, but this was the first time I ever let her dress me.

It was tight, I’ll give her that. The black sequined material complementing the black mascara on my eyelashes. The glitter that dawns my collarbones and chest makes me definitely stand out, it catching in the light every time I would move in the slightest. Once I confessed and told Maddy about my history with Fez, though it was purley sexual so far, she was adamant on making me stand out. To tease him, to make him itch to be next to me, to give him something pretty to look at. She had good taste when it came to dressing me up like a doll, knowing exactly how to put my hair up, what shoes to wear, what perfume to spray would drive him wild when he would be close enough to me to smell it. I’ll give her all the credit in the world if this ends with me getting my back blown out.

I pray it does.

Stepping onto the grass, I smile at Maddy who gives me a little wiggle of her eyebrows, her eyes peering past me. Confused, I take a moment, my head craning to look behind me. My eyes can the busy crowd by the big, stone fireplace, all of their smiles making a smile raise to my lips. That’s another thing I like about high school parties, no fighting, no tension, just eager glances and happy faces. When my eyes finally find him, the breath leaves my lungs completely as if it were stolen. He’s sitting comfortably, a joint between his fingers and his knees spread as he looks to the man next to him. He must’ve tidied up his beard, the hair being a bit shorter, but equally as handsome. He looks perfect. He wears a simple t-shirt and sweats, his normal chain dancing around his neck as it reflects the light of the fire. There’s at least ten eager teenagers lining up next to him, he brushes a few of them off, before his eyes move elsewhere.

When his eyes lock with mine, I feel as if I could pass out then and there.

His eyes widen slightly, the world moving in slow motion as he smiles, my cheeks warming at the sight. He looks almost excited, his back stretching to sit up straighter as he glances away nervously for a moment. I had never seen him so bashful, so sheepish. His gaze returns to mine after a few moments, my face softening as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous tic that I’ve picked up on.

His eyes are inviting, warm, as he looks at me, the opposite of how I thought he would be looking at me by now. Our friendship, relationship, whatever you want to call it, had been purely sexual up to this moment. But now, something’s shifted, changed.

There’s no sense of lust in his eyes, no carnal need. No, it’s much more simple than that. Admiration, infatuation, the soft smile on his lips sickly sweet. It does the opposite of what I thought it would do. I thought that I would be nervous by now, looking away as my cheeks heat up but I can’t find it in me to look away. He glows in the light of the fire, his eyes now moving to rake down my body as I turn back to Maddy. She squeals at me, doing a little dance as she takes my hands in hers.

“Oh my fucking god, girl. He is drinking you up!” She cheers, swinging our arms back and forth as I giggle, my head thrown back in laughter. “Oh you have to go sit with him- go.” She shoves me away from her, sending me a reassuring smile and a wink. “Text me!” She calls out, nodding me over in his direction again, my feet finally carrying me over to where she wants me to go.

I watch Fez intently as he watches me, his eyes trained on my legs as I grin, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. By the time I reach him, we’re both breaking apart at the seams. He takes the blunt out from between his lips, his smile growing as I sit down next to him. No words are exchanged, just the blunt, the drug being lifted to my lips as I can take a deep, refreshing breath.

“How you doin’ tonight?” Fez asks, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes the joint back, his eyes flickering up to mine. My cheeks warm at his gaze, my tongue darting out to wet my lips.

“Good, now.” I reply simply, a chuckle rumbling through his chest as he looks down at the fire. I can tell by the blush on his cheeks and the bouncing of his right knee that I make him nervous, the thought giving me even more confidence to keep talking. “Haven’t seen you in a bit.” I add, his eyebrows raising teasingly as I flirt. “I mean, you’ve seen me but…” I trail off, my head resting on the pillow behind me as I get comfortable, assuming I’m gonna be here a while.

As long as he’s here, so am I.

“You been makin’ my life a livin’ hell over the last few weeks, woman. That’s all you gotta say to me?” He chuckles, my eyes rolling playfully as I take my que, scooting a bit closer to him. His arm instinctively lays behind me on the couch, my leg crossing over the other to rest the toe of my heel against his calf. His eyes linger on mine for a moment before he glances away, skimming his gaze down my legs. “You look mad pretty.” He whispers, loud enough for only me to hear it, my eyebrows perking up as I grin like an idiot.

“So you’re saying you missed me?” I tease, his head bobbing in a hesitant nod as I giggle. “I missed you too, Fez.” I smile, my hand reaching over to take the joint from between his lips. I take a few hits, the smoke lingering in my lungs before I blow it out into the already cloudy air. He watches my every move, a small smirk on his face as his hands fidget in his lap.

“I like when you say my name.” He adds suddenly, my heart skipping a beat as I smile softly, the words igniting something within my chest. “In more ways than one.” He chuckles lowly, my thighs clenching together as he smirks, his gaze picking up on the movement. I gently rest my hand against my thigh, his eyes stuck on my fingers, the rings sparkling in the light of the fire. He seems to get so simply caught up in my every move, his eyes glued to me and his breath trapped in his throat.

“You should come dance with me.” I offer, my body turning to tilt my head at him. He watches me intently with a smile, his eyes flickering down to the necklace around my neck. He laughs sheepishly, his head shaking in a polite decline as his cheeks heat up.

“I don’t dance, ma.” He replies simply, my eyes rolling as I reach forward, my fingers dancing along his chest, his heart beat stuttering under the tips of my fingers.

“Are you sure? Cuz I’ll go find someone who does.” I threaten, his eyes shifting to something far more deadly. “I’m sure there’s plenty of people here who’d love to dance with me.” I add, a forced sigh leaving his lips as he peers over at me. My sassy expression doesn’t fade, not until he sighs, his eyes fluttering closed briefly. His jaw grits, his hand reaching up to gently take my hand off of his chest as he intertwines our fingers. I watch the people next to us out of the corner of my eyes, their wide eyes and small gasps making me laugh. He stands slowly, his head nodding towards the house as I grin, following him like a puppy. He holds onto my hand tightly, my heels clicking against the tile as we enter the house.

Confusion fills me as we pass the room where most people are dancing, worried that I may have upset him with my teasing. But the minute that we turn down the hallway, my worry turns to attraction. Maybe I upset him just the right amount with my teasing. Enough for him to get riddled with jealousy, taking me into privacy to absolutely ravish me. Excitement fills my tummy as he peers at me over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips. He opens the door to our left, holding it open as we enter the spare bedroom, my mind swimming through the fog that the weed created.

“This your plan? Get me riled up?” He asks quietly as he shuts the door, my body bouncing as I hop onto the bed. I watch him as he approaches me, his eyes peering down at me teasingly.

“Maybe.” I whisper, my hands reaching out to grab onto his, a smile forming on his lips at the action. “Maybe I just wanted to make you jealous. Get you alone.” I add, his eyebrows raising as he scoffs.

“Yeah? Why you want me alone?” He asks, leaning down slowly as my heart rate picks up. My breathing stops as his nose nudges against mine, my eyes fluttering shut. “You wanted to dance, let's dance.” He whispers, pulling away from me abruptly as I whine, feeling him tug me to my feet. He gently spins me, my heart swelling at the action as he pulls me into his arms. My arms wind around his neck, his hands firmly secured on my hips as we sway back and forth.

“That’s mean, ya know. Leading a lady on like that.” I whisper, my temple resting against his shoulder as he chuckles, his hands moving to rest on my tailbone.

“Me? Leading you on? I think you’ve got that wrong.” He teases, my cheeks heating up at the memory of the last few weeks. “All talk, aren’t you?” He asks, my walls tumbling down a bit as I nod.

“Do you make a lot of money at parties like this?” I ask, deflecting his need to know me better, my head craning back to look up at him. He shrugs softly, a small smile on his lips.

“You want to talk business? Now?” He asks with a small laugh, my eyes rolling as I pull my lip between my teeth. “No, I don’t want to talk about business. I want to talk about the fact that you been sending me naked pictures and, when you finally get your hands on me, you wanna dance.” He chuckles, a small scoff leaving my lips at his words. My heart swells in embarrassment, my eyes fluttering closed as I tuck my forehead into the crook of his neck. He leans down, his lips skimming against the shell on my ear. “I’m not complaining. Just surprised. Pleasantly surprised.” He whispers, pressing a simple kiss against my temple as my arms move, gently wrapping around his waist. “You don’t gotta act so tough all the time. Not wit’ me.” He whispers, his hands trailing over my open back, fingers dancing along my spine.

“Yeah I do.” I whisper, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as my eyes flutter closed. “You know better than anyone why. People get hurt with what we do.” I add, his head bobbing in a gentle nod, understanding where I'm coming from even if he doesn't like the answer. I look up at him, his blue eyes shining softly as he smiles. A few moments pass, my eyes flickering between his as his eyes move down to my lips as they part. He reaches up, his hands gently resting on my cheeks as I smile nervously up at him. Leaning down, his lips skim against mine, my cheeks hurting from my smile. Holy shit he's gonna kiss me-

But we’re pulled apart by the sound of the door bursting open. Maddy stands there, a mystery man being her as she rolls her eyes.

“Shit, sorry.” She whispers, sending me a sorry smile before pulling herself and the man out of the room. I huff, taking a step away from Fez as he blows out a breath of air, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Uh, why don’t you go sit down at the fire and I’ll get us something to drink?” I offer with a chuckle, rubbing a hand over my forehead as I continue to get even more flustered under his gaze. Holy shit, we almost just kissed didn’t we? He nods, clearing his throat as he turns towards the door, his cheeks red as I smile. I follow him out the door, my hands itching to reach out, taking his hands in mine and to kiss him senselessly. I fight the urge as we make our way back out into the kitchen, parting ways as he sends me a wink. I watch as he leaves the room, my heart still pounding wildly. I fumble with the red cups and the multiple varieties of different types of liquor. I pour the first thing I see into two cups, deciding that these will do their job in getting us hammered. Downing one cup in seconds, needing the liquid confidence, I fill it up once more before deciding it’s good enough.

Making my way back outside with a put together smile, I hold the cups in my hands as I look around the fire. My gaze connects with Fez who sits with a smile on his face, his head turned towards the girl next to him. Jealousy flurries in my belly as he laughs, her hand reaching out to smack against his thigh as she grins. What the fuck? Who the fuck is she?

“What’s Fez doin’ with Lexi Howard?” A familiar voice startles me from behind, the liquid in my cups sloshing as I jump. I turn to see Maddy, her lips swollen and the guy no longer with her. I pout, my eyebrows pulled together as I look back to the couch, both of them still deep in conversation, the girl now closer to him.

“I have no idea.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum @glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld @daddydraco0

#fezco #fezco x reader #euphoria series #euphoria #fez x reader #fezco fanfic #fez #ashtray #fezco euphoria

523 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

I Got You, Babe ~ T.H

chapter five: the first crack in the glass

series masterlist

You spent the following weeks planning and throwing your baby shower. You had one in London and it seemed like everyone who had ever met Tom came. The amount of family members and famous faces would’ve overwhelmed you had Tom broken his promise of never leaving your side. But just like he said he would, he stayed with you the entire time.

A second baby shower was thrown in your bakery a few weeks later. All your friends and employees came out to celebrate you. If you were bothered by the lack of your family members that had shown up, you didn’t let it show. After the shower had ended, you and Tom stayed in the bakery to clean up a little.

“Wow.” Tom said as he looked around. “That’s a lot of pink cupcakes.”

“I know. I felt like we ran out of at the first baby shower so I kinda overcompensated for this one.” You playfully grimaced and began to put the cupcakes in a display case.

“I’m sure you’ll sell them tomorrow. You sell out everyday anyway. The people of New York can’t get enough of your baking. But who could blame them?” He complimented as he helped you put the cupcakes in the case.

“I know. I can’t believe how busy we are lately.” You sighed happily. “The line is out the door almost every morning. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

“You deserve it. These cupcakes are amazing. I might gain more weight than you do by the time this pregnancy ends.” Tom said as he bit into one of the cupcakes.

“I doubt it. I ate a tub of butter the other day.” You admitted as you looked down at your protruding bump.

“Why butter?” He laughed and handed you his cupcake.

“It looked really good.” You laughed weakly before taking a bite. Tom kissed the side of your head before looking at all the gifts that covered your bakery’s tables.

“I’ve never seen this much pink in my life.” Tom remarked. “Imagine our daughter hates the color pink. What would we do?”

“I know. I can’t get over how cute everything is though. Look how small these socks are.” You gushed as you pulled a pair of frilly pink socks out of a gift bag.

“You think those are cute? Look at these.” Tom said as he pulled out a pair of little pink sneaker.

“Aw.” You cooed and touched the shoes. “I don’t know why I find these so adorable. Babies don’t ever need shoes.”

“I can’t believe she’s gonna be here so soon.” Tom smiled and touched your bump. “I feel like time is going by so fast. And we have nothing figured out.”

“Yeah.” You realized. “Maybe we should do a little planning tonight. We could throw things out and see what the other thinks.”

“Sure. I’ll start.” Tom began. “How much information are we revealing to the public about the baby? We sort of have the worlds attention right now.”

“They can know her name but if we post pictures, I’d prefer we block her face. I already think newborns are ugly and I don’t need the world agreeing with me.” You admitted, which made Tom laugh.

“I totally agree. No showing her face until she says it’s okay.” Tom nodded. “Let’s see, what else? What’s your stance on spanking?”

“What does that have to do with - oh you meant as a form of discipline, didn’t you?” You realized, making Tom laugh even louder.

“Yes, I did.”

“I say no hitting under any circumstances.” You stated. “Time outs are good enough for me.”

“Excellent. We agree on that.”

“Private or public school?” You asked him.

“Private.” He decided. “That’s what my parents did for all my brothers. I think it worked out pretty well for us. Harry’s a hooligan but I think he would’ve turned out that way no matter what school he was in.”

“Works for me.” You chuckled. “How old before she gets her first phone?”

“Probably secondary school, right?”

“What?”

“High school.” He chuckled.

“Ohhh.” You nodded. “Yeah. I think 14 is a good age for your first phone. What about screen time?”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “Not until she’s older. I don’t want an iPad baby.”

“Me either.” You agreed. “Do you know how to change a diaper?”

“No. I don’t.” He realized.

“Me either. We should probably look into that. Hmm. What else? Oh, I know.” You clapped your hands. “If we ever have a son, would you let him go to school in a dress?”

“If the weather permits.” Tom shrugged.

“Good answer.” You chuckled. “What are your thoughts on spoiling?”

“Oh no. I might spoil the shit out of this kid.” Tom admitted. “I already want to buy her the entire earth and she isn’t even born yet. Can you imagine saying “no” when she asks for something? Because I’m already entirely at her mercy.”

“Me too. Don’t worry. We’ll keep each other in check.” You assured him.

“What about the last name?” Tom asked. “Should we give her yours or mine? Or we could always hyphenate.”

“I’m good with yours. Our kid should have the last name of a family that loves them.” You said softly. Tom gave you a fond smile to show that he appreciated the sentiment before nodding his head.

“I think that’s a great idea. Plus, it’ll be easier when we get married.” Tom replied without thinking of it.

“When we get married?” You playfully raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean “if” we get married?”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “I’m definitely going to be your second husband.”

“Second?” You frowned. “What happened to my first husband?”

“Nothing you can prove.” Tom deadpanned.

“Wait a minute.” You laughed. “Did you steal that joke from ICarly?”

“Yes. And it worked out perfectly.” He grinned as you playfully smacked his arm.

“What about where we’re gonna live? My apartment is only one bedroom. How long are you in New York for?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I don’t know. When do kids leave for university in America? 18?” He asked as he placed his hands on your hips.

“Tom.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m kidding. Obviously we’ll move into my house in London.” He said simply, which made you frown.

“I don’t know. That’s so far.”

“I know. But I have a house there with lots of bedrooms.” He reminded you. “And she’d be close to her grandparents and uncles. We should totally move to London.”

“Yeah but,” you sighed, “I can’t just leave New York.”

“Why not?”

“Because my whole life is here. I have friends and family and employees here. Plus, my business just started to take off. I can’t move it to another country when it’s finally getting popular.”

“Sure you can.” Tom shrugged. “The bakery got popular once people found out we were having a baby together and it’s not like that’s gonna change. In fact, you’ll probably double your business once our daughter is born.”

“Excuse me?” You asked and pulled out of his arms.

“What’s wrong?” Tom wondered.

“My business took off because I’m a hard working baker who puts a lot of effort into my work. You being my baby daddy isn’t the only reason I get customers.” You stated as you crossed your arms. Tom could tell he had pissed you off and quickly tried to backpedal.

“Of course it’s not the only reason.” He said. “It’s a pretty big reason though.”

“Tom, when you say that, you undermine all the effort I put into that bakery before I met you. The bakery was going just fine before you came into my life. You are not the sole reason behind my success. Screw you for implying that.” You scoffed and walked over to the pile of gifts. You started to pick at the wrapping paper of a present, your attempt at trying to look busy.

“Your business took off when the world found out you were carrying my baby. That’s all I’m saying.” He let out a huff. “Can we not fight about this right now? Let’s go back to discussing London. I really think we should move there.”

“I barely know London.” You sighed. “I’d have to start my life from scratch again. I can’t just move to a brand new city and open a bakery when I’m six months pregnant.“

“I could help you move.” He offered. “And in a few years, I’ll help you open a new bakery in London.”

You stopped picking at the wrapping paper when you heard this. You looked up to see if he was joking, but his face looked completely serous.

“A few years?” You frowned. “Did you think I was gonna stop working at the bakery once the baby was born?”

“I mean, kind of. Yeah.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you don’t need to work when I can support the both of us. You’re with me now, darling. You never have to work again if you don’t want to. You could just stay at home with the baby.” He said causally. You stared at him for a moment and he began to get the feeling that he messed up.

“I love what I do. And my job is just as important as yours.” You stated. “I’m not gonna give up my life’s passion just because I’m having a baby. It’s not like you’re gonna stop working.“

“Okay. You’re angry. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in defense.

“Why are you sorry?” You crossed your arms.

“Because you’re angry?” He said, but it sounded more like a question.

“And why am I angry?” You asked him.

“I don’t want to answer that.” He said as he nervously scratched behind his ear.

“Why not?”

“It feels like a trap.”

“It’s not.” You shrugged. “Go ahead, Tom. Tell me why I might be angry right now.”

“Because-“

“Wrong.” You cut him off, coughing him to throw his hands in the air in exasperation.

“I’m angry because you expect me to put my career on hold so I can stay at home and take care of the baby.” You continued. “But I can’t just stay at any home. No, Tom. You want to to move to a new country so I can be a stay at home mom in your home. Do you see why that makes me angry?”

“You’ll love London!” He exclaimed in frustration. “And you can still bake at home. But you don’t need to be running a business and selling cupcakes when your boyfriend is a multimillion dollar actor.”

“Maybe I like selling cupcakes.” You raised your voice. “Did you ever think of that? I love to bake and I love running my business. I like interacting with customers and I like creating new recipes for them to try. It’s not all about the money.”

“Fine. Then open up a new bakery in London.” He sighed. “Like I suggested ten minutes ago.”

Tom assumed that was the end of the fight, but you were nowhere near done. You stopped fidgeting with the wrapping paper and angrily pushed the present before walking towards the staircase to go up to your apartment.

“Why are you still angry? We just compromised.” He called after you. You stopped walking and turned around, allowing Tom to see the anger on your face.

“That wasn’t a compromise.” You told him. “That was you reluctantly agreeing to what I wanted.”

“But I still agreed.” He pointed out. “So why are you still mad?”

“Because you keep asking me why I’m mad!” You shouted. “Which means you never understood why I got angry in the first place.”

“Fine. You’re right. I don’t see what the big deal is.” He admitted. “I thought you were gonna quit being a baker and now I know you’re not. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you not seeing me as an equal.” You said as tears of frustration came to your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He groaned. “Of course I do.”

“No you don’t.” You shook your head. “If you did, you would never expect me to give up my career while you kept yours. I have dreams too, Tom. And I have passions and hobbies and interests. I shouldn’t have to give those things up once I have a kid. Especially since you were never planning on giving them up for yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “I didn’t think about it like that.“

“I know you didn’t. That’s why I’m upset.” You sighed. “And you don’t just want me to give up my career. You’re asking me to leave my home too. I have roots in New York. I do not want to pick up my entire life and move to a different country while I am growing a baby inside me.”

“You’d have to move anyway. Like you said, your apartment is too small for a baby. This whole conversation is ridiculous.” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I have a house in London. I have family in London. I mean, look how many family members I had at my baby shower versus how many you had at yours. You had like one cousin show up and she didn’t even stay the whole time.”

“You did not just say that.”

“What? It’s true.” He defended himself. “There is no reason why we shouldn’t move there. We’re going. End of discussion.”

“You don’t call all the shots and you definitely do not make my decisions for me.” You said sternly.

“I know.” He rolled his eyes. “But when you’re having a mood swing that makes you act crazy and make irrational decisions, I have to make choices for the both of us. Can you just eat a cupcake or something and calm down?”

“Did you just call me crazy?” You said lowly.

“I’m sorry. What I meant to say is you’re a crazy bitch.” He raised his voice as he shouted at you, making the rest of the room go silent. You and Tom were equally surprised by what came out of his mouth. He immediately retreated after screaming in your face and gave you space. You blinked in suprise a few times and wiped a tear that had fallen before looking away from him.

“I think we need some space from each other.” You said quietly.

“I’m so sorry. I’m just really stressed about the baby. I didn’t mean that. I take it back.” He apologized as he took a step forward. You instantly took a step back and hugged yourself.

“I think you should go.” You said without looking at him.

“I’m so sorry. That wasn’t me. I really didn’t mean-“

“Tom. Go.” You cut him off. “I don’t want to see you right now. Just leave.”

“Please.” He pleaded. “We need to talk about this.”

“We’ve said plenty.” You laughed bitterly. “This is my baby and this is my life. I’m not going anywhere. If you want to go back to London so badly, then go. But don’t expect me to uproot my life and follow you.”

“I’m sorry.” He said desperately. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t shut me out right. We need to stick together more than ever right now.”

“Don’t call me for a while, okay? I’ll call you if I need you.” You said as you backed up the stairs to your apartment. He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out. You disappeared into your apartment and he knew he had lost.

Tom didn’t hear from you for a long time. Days turned to weeks and he still never received a call. He had flown back to London and threw himself into preparing the nursery, anything to keep his mind off of you. He tried calling you after the first 48 hours of silence, but you never picked up. He knew you and the baby were okay from his many texts to Leo, but the silence hurt all the same. When he had to fly back to New York for work, he found himself outside your bakery almost every night. Just as he was working up the courage to go in, he got a call from you.

“Darling.” He sighed in relief. “I’m so sorry about our fight. I miss you so much. Can I come see you?”

“Tom.” You said slowly. “I need you to meet me at the hospital. St. Augustine’s in Queens.”

His heart stopped at your words. You sounded weak and his mind raced through a million horrible scenarios that you could be in.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Is the baby okay?”

“I fell. There was some bleeding. I, um, think you should get here as soon as possible.” You said on the other line.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He told you. “I’m on my way. I love you.”

“I’ll see you soon.” You said before hanging up. Tom quickly dialed his driver, finding it difficult to hit the numbers with his hands shaking. He jumped in the car as soon as it pulled up and gave the driver the address. As soon as the car pulled up to the hospital, Tom jumped out and ran inside.

“Excuse me?” He asked the lady at the front desk. “My girlfriend is here somewhere. Y/n L/n. I need to see her.”

“Are you the husband?” She asked without looking up.

“I just said she was my girlfriend.” Tom repeated. He felt guilty for how rude he sounded, but he was desperate.

“Sorry.” She shrugged. “Visiting hours are over. Family only beyond those doors.”

“That’s my daughter in there.” He shouted, completely out of patience now.

“Then you can have a seat in the waiting room and see your daughter when visiting hours are open.” The lady said as she pointed Tom towards the waiting room.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. “I can’t sit in the waiting room. I need to see my family. Could you please just tell me what room Y/n L/n is in?”

“I just said I can’t.” She replied, using Tom’s outburst for earlier against him. Before Tom could respond, a nurse walked out into the hallway.

“Are you Tom?” He asked.

“Yes. I’m Tom.” Tom nodded. “Are you Y/n’s doctor? Can I see her? Is she okay?”

The nurse looked down at the chart in his hands and let out a sigh before looking back up at Tom.

“Follow me.”

Tag list 🏷

@sarbear94 @levanamareriddle @gwenstcay @angie1djonasgg @white-wolf1940 @whore4thor-odinson @spideyywife @yeswhatever33 @blankspaceblankday @amnaabedi @elizabethraymond @daydreamingchaos713 @eatshitanddie- @tothemoonandbackx3000 @prancerrparkerr @sunshinehollandd @wandamaximoffbae

#tom holland x reader #dad!tom holland x reader #dad!tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic

380 notes · View notes

yakumtsaki · 2 years

Photo

Oh fuck, I forgot we had Headmaster B.J coming today. You’re gonna love our new zombie!

-Right this way, sir. -You people have a butler now? I remember when you were eating out of the litterboxes.

Well, some of us still do!

Case in point.

-Hiiiiii!

Sugar, please remove yourself from B.J’s sight, I don’t want you two interacting until after we’ve been accepted and he can’t take it back.

We instruct Glitchy Butler #4 to make lobster-

-and I send Sophie to greet B.J, as we’ve unironically reached the point where SOPHIE MIGUEL is the most stable and likable person in this family.

-Aw if it isn’t headmaster B.J! Do you remember me? -Oh I’m sorry, I don’t. -You expelled me for ‘sociopathic behavior’! -We pride ourselves on having so many sociopathic students that I still can’t quite place you. -I made you eat you bowtie! -Sophie Miguel??? Wow, you’re all grown up!

GB4 (Glitchy Butler #4) burnt the goddamn lobster, USELESS-

-so we’ll have to stall with the tour until Jojo can make a replacement!

-This is our living room, complete with the kids untouched homeworks in the background. -Amazing!

Jojo will you pick up the pace on this turkey please??

-It’s hard to concentrate with Sandy Fairchild wailing zombieshly in the mausoleum.

Oh God, she’s still not over that crap? It’s been 3 hours.

-This is my father-in-law ripping out an animal’s guts. Unusually, this one is already dead. -Incredible!

-And this is my other father-in-law, who is currently on the 4th day of a sleep binge. -I’ve never been this impressed!

Ok B.J you can tone it down, Victoria is dead she can’t hurt you. -Not taking any chances!

-Ah, Headmaster B.J, how are you? -Little Jojo Union.. my star student. I had such high hopes for you, and then you stabbed me in the back. -I’m sorry sir, but to be fair, I didn’t hit anything vital.

-How’s the turkey, Headmaster? Feel free to express your opinion in the form of score points. -I have to be honest, Sophie, I don’t feel so well.. I’m hearing a strange sound..

-..Some sort of ghostly meowing but coming from a human?? As if someone has fallen down a well and is calling for help in meows???

-Headmaster B.J, that’s very weird and specific, maybe we should postpone until you’ve seen a doctor!💗 -Meow.. meow meowwww~

-Meow meow... meooooowwww~ -Grandpa will you cut it the fuck out, huhu?🌸

-Cyn, why don’t you tell Headmaster B.J about how you all you wish for in this life is an elderly gentleman?

-Oh it’s true, Headmaster, there’s just something so magical about grey hair, loose skin, and enlarged prostates!💗

-Ok, I’ve heard enough.. -Fuck, we went too far, Jojo! -We’re gonna be fine!

-You’re in! -I knew a little stabbing wouldn’t come between BFFs like us! -Yes, that’s exactly the reason I’m accepting your grandchildren, Jojo.

-Call me, Cyn! -I will, handsome, huhu! Now where was I? Right🌸..

-Donnie, I’m so sorry for cheating on you!💗 -You seriously stopped to cheat on me in the middle of your cheating apology? -And I will apologize for that immediately!🌸

-Je suis àwakêoix!!!

Oh Wyatt good, I have a humiliating and undignified task for you.

-Grôssòix!!!

I know, I know, I’m sorry, but your creativity points doomed you into being the one to immortalize Don’s mug.

Speaking of immortality, I forgot to explain to you guys how the Sandy zombie shit came to be. So I had been wanting to resurrect Sandy and send her back to towniehood for a while now because a) I felt bad for her b) her evil ghost was driving me crazy. However we’re still kinda broke post-renovation and I was very resistant to spending our hard earned cash on the reaper phone for her.

But then we get the genie lamp and I see the free-of-charge resurrect option and I’m like oh wow what a loophole!!! Little did I know genie resurrections only make zombies, so clearly we got what we paid for. Let me also tell you, the main reason I felt bad for her as a ghost was she kept throwing a family aspiration bubble thought and I was like man, Jojo murdered this poor family townie and then she’s damned to watching our terrible children and never having any of her own. But now that she’s ‘alive’, it turns out that Sandy is ROMANCE and was deceiving me the whole time.

- T̾H̾A̾T̾’̾S̾ ̾R̾I̾G̾H̾T̾,̾ ̾I̾ ̾K̾N̾E̾W̾ ̾I̾N̾ ̾T̾H̾I̾S̾ ̾M̾I̾S̾O̾G̾Y̾N̾I̾S̾T̾I̾C̾ ̾S̾O̾C̾I̾E̾T̾Y̾ ̾Y̾O̾U̾’̾D̾ ̾F̾E̾E̾L̾ ̾M̾O̾R̾E̾ ̾I̾N̾C̾L̾I̾N̾E̾D̾ ̾T̾O̾ ̾R̾E̾S̾U̾R̾R̾E̾C̾T̾ ̾M̾E̾ ̾I̾F̾ ̾I̾ ̾W̾A̾N̾T̾E̾D̾ ̾T̾O̾ ̾B̾E̾ ̾A̾ ̾M̾O̾T̾H̾E̾R̾,̾ ̾B̾E̾C̾A̾U̾S̾E̾ ̾I̾T̾’̾S̾ ̾C̾O̾N̾S̾I̾D̾E̾R̾E̾D̾ ̾W̾O̾R̾T̾H̾I̾E̾R̾ ̾T̾H̾A̾N̾ ̾M̾E̾ ̾W̾A̾N̾T̾I̾N̾G̾ ̾T̾O̾ ̾B̾E̾ ̾A̾ ̾B̾I̾M̾B̾O̾ 🧟

Lies, I’d feel also bad if you were romance watching Cyn whore around! Plus you don’t even wanna be a bimbo, you wanna be a celebrity chef, which. lmao. Sandy the Celebrity Chef Zombie.

-T̷H̷E̷R̷E̷’̷S̷ ̷A̷ ̷B̷I̷G̷ ̷M̷A̷R̷K̷E̷T̷ ̷F̷O̷R̷ ̷I̷T̷🧟

A big market for what? Worms and rotting body parts in people’s food?? Maybe if you market exclusively to Jojo.

-O͎H͎ ͎A͎L͎L͎-͎P͎O͎W͎E͎R͎F͎U͎L͎ ͎G͎E͎N͎I͎E͎,͎ ͎H͎E͎A͎R͎ ͎M͎Y͎ ͎P͎L͎E͎A͎.͎ ͎I͎ ͎W͎I͎S͎H͎ ͎T͎O͎ ͎N͎O͎T͎ ͎B͎E͎ ͎A͎ ͎Z͎O͎M͎B͎I͎E͎ ͎A͎N͎Y͎M͎O͎R͎E͎,͎ ͎C͎A͎U͎G͎H͎T͎ ͎B͎E͎T͎W͎E͎E͎N͎ ͎L͎I͎F͎E͎ ͎A͎N͎D͎ ͎D͎E͎A͎T͎H͎.͎ ͎E͎I͎T͎H͎E͎R͎ ͎R͎E͎T͎U͎R͎N͎ ͎M͎E͎ ͎T͎O͎ ͎D͎U͎S͎T͎ ͎O͎R͎ ͎L͎E͎T͎ ͎M͎E͎ ͎T͎A͎S͎T͎E͎ ͎L͎I͎F͎E͎’͎S͎ ͎G͎L͎O͎R͎Y͎🧟 -CAN’T DO IT SIS🧞 -₣Ʉ₵₭ ɎØɄ🧟

-OK HERE, I’LL BLESS YOU WITH BEAUTY INSTEAD. YOU COULD ALSO BLESS YOURSELF WITH IT BY SHOWERING🧞

Sophito is such a goddamn knowledge sim even though he hasn’t rolled for an aspiration yet, he’s OBSESSED with Sandy and all he wants to do is interact with her.

-Hi Sandy, my monthly physics scholarship check came, I want you to have it! -W̴H̴Y̴?̴🧟 -Buy something nice for your mausoleum room! I want you to feel at home! Please don’t leave us!

Sophito she’s a dishwasher zombie, not a lot of places she can go.

-She’s the coolest thing that’s even happened to me!!!

-Wow Sandy, those brain sandwiches are fantastic! I’m sure great success awaits you in the culinary world!

-Hi Sandy, I know it’s 2 a.m but here are some facts about elephants that just can’t wait until morning!

-Sandy, Sandy, I got an A++! They invented it for me! -G͎O͎O͎D͎ ͎J͎O͎B͎,͎ ͎K͎I͎D͎D͎O͎🧟

Why so glum, Soph?

-I’m worried about Sophito. He was born the problem child-

He was what.

-7 nice points??

Oh brother.

-And now all this Zombie Fairchild crap is making him even kinder and more open-minded. This ends now!

-Alright, let me adjust the mic here.. stupid childphobic standards..

-So I say to you, fellow students, that we should abandon competing for grades, and instead focus on those among us who are struggling academically! I will personally lead a workshop-

-Sophito, what the hell is this? -Oh hi mom! It’s my assembly speech, I’m going to start a workshop for studying tips! -Fuck my life. Sophito, I will only ask you this once, and I want the absolute truth. Have you been using your powers for good? -What powers?? -The brainchad powers you inherited from me! -Well, that’s a very arrogant way of putting it! Everyone is special- -OH GOD.

-Now listen here son, with great power comes great responsibility.. towards YOURSELF. -That doesn’t sound right. -WELL IT IS. Now, I love you, and you could never make me ashamed of you, but those 7 nice points of yours are just about to do the trick. -I’m sorry about our philosophical differences, mom, but I believe kindness is its own reward! -Ok Sophito, I didn’t wanna do this, I thought you were too young to hear it, but I see there is no other way to change your mind.. The only other person in this family with nice points..

-..is grandpa Wyatt. -WHAT. NO. -Yes, son. Those are the genes we’re up against. Do you want to be like him? -What must I do? -Go forth and lose those nice points, my son. It is the only way. -How? How do I do that?? -The power of turbochaddery flows in your veins, no thanks to your mother. When the time comes, listen to your true, empty heart!

-I will do it, mom! I’ll do whatever it takes to avoid grandpa Wyatt’s fate!! -I believe in you, my child. -My quest begins!

As Sophito embarks on the journey of a lifetime, Sandy returns from her job and we face some routing issues with her carpool and Jojo’s wolf simping tent.

-Move it, old man! -Go around, you stupid moron! -I CAN’T go around, it’s hardcoded in the game, move your tent! -NO

-I can stay here honking all night, crazy geezer! -Do your worst! I’ll freeze to death before I move!

-Man, Sandy sure has it made living in the mausoleum! It’s the only place I can escape this infernal honking, and it reminds me of my childhood, AND, free catghost fighting entertainment!

-FUCK YOU, VICTOR -NO, FUCK YOU, ALEGRA

So nice of Sandy to offer her bed to you!

#gen 3 #ts2

79 notes · View notes

mikeyinnit · 3 years

Text

lovebug

Pairing: Wilbur x GN!Reader

Summary: Wilbur was done with love after he lost Sally, but when Fundy introduces him to one of Niki’s friends, things start to change.

Word Count: 2k words

Notes: Songfic!! I said they would be rare and it’s the second fic I post lmao. Inspired by Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers, totally willing to do a part 2 for this one because I have other ideas with other lyrics and stuff

Tagging: N/A

After Sally, Wilbur wasn’t really looking for anyone else to love, in fact, he had given up on love entirely. He had to focus on his son and the nation he was building from the ground up.

Then you came into the picture.

You were a friend of Niki’s, that’s how he met you. Fundy was visiting the bakery and when Wilbur came to get him, he saw you helping the young fox hybrid make cookies. It was such a sweet sight that he took a moment to just enjoy seeing his son have a great time. When he did enter, Fundy introduced the two.

“This is Y/N! They’re one of Niki’s friends. Y/N, this is my dad. He’s single.”

Of course his son would throw him under the bus like that. But you just laughed, and god did you have a beautiful laugh, and held out your hand. A gesture that Wilbur returned with one of his charming grins.

“Fundy’s talked about you all day, I feel like I know you already…” you had trailed off, obviously Fundy only referred to him as my dad, prompting him to give his name.

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Wilbur. It’s great to meet you.”

You gave him your phone number, clearly you were as taken with Fundy as the boy was to you, for him or his son to use anytime. Then you said your goodbyes for the night as you sent them on their way with the cookies you and Fundy baked along with some extra baked goods.

Called you for the first time yesterday

Wilbur hadn’t used your number for a good couple of days. He had been busy with L’Manberg and honestly had barely had time to see his son, let alone the enchanting stranger.

Today was a day that he could actually spend quality time with Fundy, and obviously all of that time at the bakery while he was working just made the young boy want to bake cookies with his dad. Unfortunately, Fundy was very specific with what cookies he wanted to make. The ones he baked with you.

“These don’t taste like the ones Y/N made.” Was said numerous times throughout the night no matter how Wilbur changed the recipe so eventually, he just gave up and called you to figure it out.

“Hello?”

Your voice rang out through the telephone and it instantly felt like all of the stress of this baking night was leaving his body.

“Y/N, it’s Wilbur. We met at Niki’s the other day?”

“Wilbur! Of course. How are you? How’s Fundy?”

Another grin was brought to his face at you almost immediately asking about Fundy, though he didn’t have the chance to respond as the aforementioned hybrid returned from getting more ingredients for the cookies and practically begged his father to put you on speaker so he could talk to you as well.

“Y/N!!”

It was almost like he could hear the smile on your face as you spoke to Fundy. “Fundy! What are you up to?”

“We’re trying to bake cookies but dad can’t make them like you.”

Wilbur heard that laugh again, that beautiful laugh that he first heard at the bakery.

“That’s because your dad probably doesn’t know the secret ingredient that we used to bake those cookies. How about you give the phone back to him so I can let him know and then I’m sure you two will bake the best cookies ever.”

Then the phone was back in his hand and he spoke, “Secret ingredient?”

You grinned as you answered, “I just told him to tell the dough nice things in his life. Some people say speaking love into the dough helps, I don’t know if it’s true or not but he had fun with it.”

It sounded ridiculous, but Wilbur decided to try it.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

This time, Fundy thought the cookies were perfect.

I finally found the missing part of me

You became a big part of his routine after that night. He would see you at the bakery every time he came to get his son, he called you even when he was at work, you quickly became an important part of his life. Fundy loved you, days together often involved him telling Wilbur all about whatever the two of you got up to.

Wilbur wasn’t a stranger to love, he loved Sally, he loved his country, he loved his son. But it felt very different with you. He couldn’t even say it was love yet, you just felt like you fit with him and Fundy. You were kind, and obviously cared about his son, you were funny, the texts and calls he exchanged with you never failed to put a smile on his face. And you cared about his son a lot, which was certainly not a negative. For the two of them, it felt like you were the perfect fit to the puzzle they didn’t realize was missing a piece.

I felt so close but you were far away

Getting used to having you in his routine meant it really sucked when you traveled to a village far away. Fundy missed you and honestly, Wilbur did too. You promised the young boy that you wouldn’t be gone for long, and told him that he was welcome to call you at anytime. Which Fundy took full advantage of. Every night before the young fox hybrid went to bed, he called you on Wilbur’s phone and the two of them heard about your day and they shared details of their own. On certain nights, you even joined Wilbur in singing a lullaby for him.

People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and that absolutely seemed true with your trip. Both of the boys missed you and wondered when you would be back, but luckily, you came back within a month. And you came back with plenty of gifts for Fundy, which made the boy ridiculously happy. You even got a gift for Wilbur, which was certainly a pleasant surprise since really, you being back was enough of a gift for him.

That night, he invited you over for dinner. He said it was to celebrate your return, which is true, but he also just wanted to spend time with you now that you were back. You agreed, and the three of you even tried baking dessert, which resulted in a small flour fight initiated by you.

Wilbur usually liked everything in order and in his control, something like throwing flour around and making a complete mess of his kitchen is something that Tommy would enjoy, but somehow it felt okay with you and his son.

I never thought that I’d catch this lovebug again

After that night, Wilbur came to realize that he did like you, if not love you. You were a nice balance to his control and an escape from the stress of his job as president.

At first, it felt like a betrayal to Sally. He decided he was going to focus on his son and his nation, not love. He decided that long before you came into the picture and he was a man of his word. Even if that word was only said to himself.

He knew he couldn’t just outright ignore you. Not only would that be unfair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to Fundy. So he had to deal with it another way, throwing himself further into his work. It meant less time with his son but it was very productive for L’Manberg. Plus it meant Fundy got to see you and Niki more so Wilbur is certain that the young fox would understand and perhaps enjoy this more than spending time with him.

There was a knock at his door but Wilbur didn’t even look up as he called out, “Come on in.” Obviously it wasn’t Tommy since the boy never knocked but it could have been Tubbo or Jack Manifold or even someone from outside of L’Manberg.

“You would think that in a time of peace, the president would have more free time.”

He knew that voice. He could never forget the face that went along with it. Your smile and eyes never left his mind even with him trying his hardest to shut out the rest of the world.

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you by?”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Fundy told me you’ve been sleeping here lately so I thought I would check on you.”

And there was that kindness again. The kindness that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

“I’m okay, Y/N. Just busy.”

“Too busy to stop by the bakery to see your friends? Or to even come home and see your son at night?”

There was an edge to your voice and Wilbur wasn’t sure how he felt about it, obviously he thought that Fundy would prefer spending time with you and Niki over himself but it seemed like you disagreed.

You strongly disagreed.

“I’ve just been busy. Running a country is a lot of work, Fundy will understand. He gets to see you and Niki more anyways, he’s happier that way.” He shifted his eyes back to the papers in front of him, letters he had been drafting for the past two hours and couldn’t get anywhere with.

“Fundy is a child, Wilbur. Niki and I are happy to see him at the bakery but we aren’t replacements for his dad. His dad who suddenly became “too busy” almost overnight. What happened?”

It truly was sweet the way you cared about his son that much. Enough to come to his office when you could be sleeping. This could have been a good moment for him to say what was on his mind, that he thinks he was falling in love with you and didn’t want to betray his dead wife. But he lied.

“Tommy has been getting into trouble with Dream recently, I want to make sure we don’t fight in another war so soon. Or ever again.” It was a solid lie, Tommy had a reputation for being a troublemaker and he could use that to his advantage. You seemed like you were about to speak, probably about Fundy, so he spoke first, “I promise that I will talk to Fundy and see him more as soon as I get this figured out. Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice to know that someone else cares about Fundy this much, he needs that.”

“It’s not just him that I care about, Wilbur. I wish you would see Fundy more sooner but I was also worried about you, I know you care about him so something had to be going on for you to miss seeing him this often.”

Well that certainly didn’t help with him trying to ignore these feelings.

“Then I thank you again. I really appreciate it. Goodnight, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Wilbur.”

I kissed them for the first time yesterday

Wilbur kept the promise he made to you. Considering the reason he gave you for being busy was a lie, it wasn’t hard to get back to seeing his son and by extension, you.

If you asked him, he would say he’s handling his feelings for you rather well now. He hasn’t done anything about it but he isn’t shutting out the world so, progress.

It was another dinner night with you and Fundy, you had brought desert with you this time so they didn’t have another flour fight but it was still lovely. After he sent Fundy to bed, you stuck around.

The two of you had been sitting on the couch together for a whole, just talking about anything, and maybe it was just because it was late and you looked so beautiful but something came over Wilbur and he asked, “Would you mind if I tried something?”

You nodded, curious about what he was going to try, but you didn’t stay curious for long as Wilbur gently cupped your face with one hand and leaned in to kiss you.

A kiss that you returned.

I never thought that I’d get hit by this lovebug again

#mikey's writing #dream smp x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x you #wilbur soot x you #dsmp fic #dsmp x you #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you

248 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 4 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

2K notes · View notes

kaitycole · 3 years

Text

using a lame pick-up line

Summary: You use a lame line to hit on them, how do the MSBY boys react?

Pick-up line bit: *bumps into you* “you broke my phone. It doesn’t have your number in it.”

Characters: Atsumu, Bokuto, Sakusa & Hinata

Word Count: 1371

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Use of lame pick-up line. Poor attempt at humor.

** This was my first attempt at Hinata, I’m sorry if it’s bad!

A/N: When I was a freshman in college, I went to a college party and a guy used this line on me and I’ve just never forgotten it. I hope wherever he is, he’s doing good.

A/N 2: If you want to request how others would react to this line or suggest a different line, just drop me a request!

Atsumu

Off-season breaks are hell for Atsumu, he hates not being busy. Of course he enjoys free time, he likes being able to lounge on Osamu’s couch but too much free time drives him up a wall. That’s how he ended up at the local bar, wearing a baseball cap with a mask pulled down under his chin, wanting to be seen but not seen at the same time.

He felt someone run into the back of his shoulder, turning around and coming face to face with you, someone that he’d been eyeing across the room for at least 15 minutes now. He watches you dip down to snatch your phone off the ground, brow knitting together as you let out a defeated huff, “you broke my phone.”

He gets ready to defend himself, you were the one who ran into him, how was that his fault? It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to exploit him, not the first time he’d have to be “the bigger person” as his manager put it, being a pro athlete came with more downsides than he thought it would.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before looking back up to you, a bit annoyed that your hand is on your hip, “now wait a...”

“It doesn’t have your number in it.” The smirk on your face, the way you raise your eyebrow at him, all of it takes his breath away.

It takes him a moment, wondering why those words sound so familiar only to be reminded by a past half-drunken memory, he has in fact used that line and failed. But somehow you made the line work, at least on him, and he wants to call it fate, what were the odds of that happening, but he knew Osamu would say that just means that you sadly have the same shitty taste as he does.

He reaches out a hand, a mischievous grin on his lips, “let me fix that then.”

** Bokuto

It’s a post-game victory party, MSBY had once again defeated the Adlers and Atsumu along with Meian demanded the team go out and celebrate the win and the end of their season. It’s only been a little over an hour that they’ve been drinking and Atsumu has already tried climbing on the bar to dance while Sakusa has managed to sneak away. Bo’s hasn’t had that many drinks, but he’s had enough for him to feel a little wobbly and to vibrate with excitement over the smallest thing.

He’s in the middle of turning around when he feels someone practically shoulder check him, quickly locking eyes with you, a worried expression etched across his features. He hesitates a bit before reaching for your arm to help you up, not wanting to just grab you because he doesn’t want you to take it the wrong way. “Are you okay?”

You throw your hands up slightly, “you broke my phone.”

Bokuto immediately starts shoving his hand in each pocket, trying to find his wallet, pulling out a few loose bills, Akaashi always told him to make sure he has cash just in case. He hands you the bills, “I’ll give you my number so I can give you the rest. I’m so sorry.”

You let out a small laugh, clearly the man is a bit too tipsy for this exchange, but you find his kindness endearing, feeling a bit bad for using this pick-up line, “it doesn’t have your number in it.”

Worry is replaced with confusion as he tries to process what you’ve said, hand slowly closing over the money you’ve put back in his hand. “It’s really not broken?”

You try to suppress a smile as you shake your head, moving over to his side to show him that your phone works perfectly, before telling him it was just a cheesy way to ask for his number. It takes another 30 minutes to fully convince him that nothing happened to your phone and to finally to get his.

** Sakusa

It’s cold, late, and rainy, but not actually rainy, just that heavy annoying drizzle mess where you wish it’d actually just rain harder. The team meet and greet lasted longer than he was told it would and he is exhausted, wanting nothing more than to slip into his hotel room and take a hot shower to wash away the day. He blames Atsumu for this shitty day, not because the setter did anything in particular to him today, but when in doubt, blame Atsumu.

As he’s walking down the sidewalk, he notices your attention is locked on your phone screen and before he can move, you crash into his chest. Your phone slips from your hand, bouncing a bit on the concrete and even with his mask on, his irritation is clear as day.

You lock eyes with him, “you broke my phone.”

“Tragic.” Sakusa starts walking away, this night was really starting to drag and he hates it.

“Wait--it’s because…”

“If it’s because we collided, you were the one not paying attention. If it’s because it doesn’t have my number...”

Your jaw drops, lips twitching to smile, “why do you think it’s a line?”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath before telling you that he’s heard the line more times than he’d care to and making sure to point out that it never worked for that person either.

“And what if I just asked for your number?” You smirk as he raises an eyebrow, loving that you can’t read him right now.

“Ah, maybe next time.” He passes you a small card, “but I would be willing to split the cost of repairs if it is actually damaged.”

“Is this your way of asking me out?”

He shakes his head, “I gave it to you for business, I can’t help it if you use it with other intentions.”

** Hinata

Hinata tugs on the knot of his tie, Sakusa had tightened a little too tight as their manager reminded the team to be on their best behavior. It’s some formal event held by one of the biggest sponsors of the MSBY team, not that he could tell what it was for, but making an appearance was never a bad thing.

He’s looking around the room, curious as to where most of his teammates are, deciding to just walk around, that had to be the easiest way to find someone to talk to. As he’s walking, he signals for a waiter who has a tray of what looks to be champagne, hoping it will cut some of the edge he’s feeling. Drinking and walking is never a good gamble to make, clearly evident when he collides with another guest, droplets of his drink spilling on his hand.

“Great, my phone’s broken.” You try your hardest not to laugh, this wasn’t something you did often, in fact it was a dare from another company intern, they said you needed to live a little more. You had expected him to wave you off or say you were dramatic since your phone hadn’t even fallen from your hand, but he does neither.

“What!?” His voice is loud, causing several people to look back at the two of you, the fact you two were more towards the middle of the ballroom that the side really didn’t ease your embarrassment.

“It’s uhm…” You try to explain things, wanting this anxiety inducing moment to just end but he cuts you off.

“Take mine.” He tries to hand you his phone, rambling about how it has a small crack on the screen but it’s one of the newest models.

Meian comes up behind Hinata, draping his arm over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the exchange. He coughs, trying to hide a laugh when the orange-haired player explains what happened, leaning down, he whispers in Hinata’s ear.

“Oh! So you’re hitting on me!?!” Once again, all eyes shift to you, embarrassment burning your face and neck.

You give him a small nod, there was no way you could form words at this point, surprised when once again see him handing you his phone.

“Could you put your number in there for me?”

m.list

243 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Trending

Summary: Steve thinks you’re too young to like him despite the obvious hints you’re dropping.

Warnings: unspecified age gap

Word count: 2246

a/n: I’ve clearly spent too much time on TikTok recently, but inspired me to write something so that's good. It was loosely based on a request for a young reader x Steve, but I forgot part of the request so I'm gonna write something else for that one! Also, I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any typos I missed when trying to edit it lol

Masterlist

Messing with Steve is one of your favorite things to do. Tiny pranks, over the top flirting, poking fun at his lack of understanding of technology. Anything you can do to get him to roll his eyes and chuckle.

Nat would say it’s because of your feelings for him. She would be correct. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. Nope. So instead, you have your fun, and enjoy the way his eyes crinkle and his cheeks redden.

Your newest method of hearing the sweet sound of Steve’s laugh? TikTok. It’s a double whammy. One because he doesn’t understand the app and two because a lot of the trends make him blush.

It started as a fun way to blow off steam. Sometimes, being one of the younger and newer team members made you feel like an outsider. Of course, Peter was younger than you, but he had his own friends outside of the team. You didn’t have anyone else. When Tony found you and invited you to join, it was you against the world. Now you have this makeshift family.

Having your account on TikTok helped you when you hadn’t really become a part of the group yet. You bonded with Peter because of his account, and you found a new way to make Steve blush.

Anyway, you’ve learned way more TikTok dances than you ever would have thought just to see his pink cheeks. It’s not even always over the top dances that have him chuckling. The last trend you did had him laughing the entire day. It was that sound about Wednesday Adams having one thing on her mind. Only when it said homicide, instead of a deadpan expression you panned the camera to show Bucky and Sam arguing over who got the last donut.

Of course, you knew when you made the video it would appeal to Steve’s sense of humor. Sam and Bucky feature in a lot of your videos for that exact reason.

In general, you make a lot of videos featuring the Avengers just to keep Tony happy. He likes to be the center of attention, plus the only way he would approve of your account was if it could also feature as PR for the team. You agreed, as long as you had final say over what you posted. There’s nothing scripted or designed for a specific reason, you just feature the team sometimes.

Like when that sound from the Big Bang theory was popular amongst Avengers fans, you made a video confessing to Pepper that you’d been thinking about the Avengers, panning to show the team during training.

Of course, the text on the screen said “you are an Avenger” instead of “I believe that”, allowing you to play off the joke. But still, it was fun to include the team.

One of your favorite videos features none other than Scott Lang, mostly because nobody else would do it. Scott thought it was hilarious though.

Using the sound from New Girl, Scott played Schmidt and you Jess. The text on the screen read as follows:

Scott: You just walk around all day thinking about America’s Ass?

You: Yeah, don’t you?

Scott: No! How do you get anything done?

You: It’s hard…

Steve blushed like crazy when everyone cornered him to watch it. Bucky, Sam, and Tony wouldn’t stop bringing it up for at least a month. A part of you hoped he might make a move after that video, seeing as you put yourself out there, but he just assumed it was a joke and laughed it off.

Honestly, you were running out of trends that you could use to get him to understand your feelings. You only had two ideas left, and one of them would be mortifying if it didn’t work out…

“Steve. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky sighed, exasperated with Steve for the umpteenth time that month. “You’ve been pining for forever, just make a move!” he whisper yelled, doing his best not to throttle his lifelong friend.

Steve rolled his eyes, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s pointed glare. The two men had spent the last hour looking through your TikTok account. Bucky was adamant that you liked Steve, but the blonde didn’t believe it, despite the so called proof Bucky kept forcing him to watch.

“Buck, would you please just back off? We’re friends. She’s too young to want to be with me like that.” Steve blushed, thinking about the context of his words.

Before Bucky could say anything about how repressing his feelings is bad for him, a new video popped up on your account. Bucky smirked when he saw the thumbnail was once again a picture of Steve, this time with a beard. Steve took the silence as an opportunity to escape, walking into his closet to change.

The video opened with a video of you and Natasha just hanging out, you lip syncing to the words “I like you have a cupcake.” You repeated the words as the video cut to you and Tony.

Bucky nearly dropped the phone when “smack my ass like a drum” blared from the speaker. He cackled bending over in a fit of laughter when he realized that’s what Steve’s picture was used for- and one where he had a beard to boot.

“What is it now, jerk?” Steve emerged from his closet, having changed into loungewear. The sight of Bucky fully cackling had him nervous.

Bucky tossed him the phone, doing his best to stop laughing long enough to tell him to watch the most recent video. With a hesitant sigh, Steve obliged.

Again, Bucky rolled his eyes at how obvious Steve’s feelings were. The second he saw you on the screen, he smiled. And not one of those half hearted polite smiles, a full on happy smile.

Steve’s eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his head when he got to the end of the video.

“‘She doesn’t want to be with me like that.’” Bucky mocked his friends earlier words, grabbing his phone back. “Punk, I don’t know how much more obvious she could be.”

With one more glare in Steve’s direction, Bucky finally left him to his own thoughts. Okay, so you made a lot of videos about how you find him attractive. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’d want to be in a relationship with him. Leave it to Steve to talk himself out of everything Bucky had spent so long trying to convince him of.

You were desperate at this point. You honestly thought the cupcake one would send him over the edge, but it didn’t work either. It has been three days, and you know Steve’s seen the video because everyone likes to tease him about it.

“Naaaaaat, it’s not working,” you whined, dramatically throwing yourself onto her bed. She laughed at your antics, briefly looking up at you before deciding to stop what she was going and give you her full attention.

“Look, not only is Steve one of the most clueless people I’ve ever met when it comes to women, but he can also talk himself out of believing someone’s interested in him. Especially you.” Nat watched as you lifted your head from her comforter, slowly turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes.

“Especially me?” you questioned. Why would you have a different standard?

“Y/N, Steve’s from the 40s. He’s super old fashioned. You're a hot young thing, super up to date on modern trends. He thinks you're just messing around as friends because he doesn’t believe someone as young as you would be interested in actually having a relationship with him,” she spelt it out for you, sick of trying to get you to figure it out on your own.

You took a minute to fully understand what she was saying, but then sat up when a new idea struck. “So you’re saying I need to be more direct?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve got an idea. Thanks Nat!” you ran from the room before she could question your newest plan, instead checking to make sure her notifications were on for posts from your TikTok account.

“Steve!” you shouted when you saw him down the hall, about to turn a corner. He immediately stopped, turning back to see you running at him. “I need your help!”

You pulled him into the gym, briefly glancing around the room to make sure it was empty. Confirming nobody else was present, you set up your phone on one of the weight racks to record the two of you. It was already open to the recording section of TikTok, the sound you needed queued and ready to begin.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked between you and the phone, nerves heightening as he realized what you were doing. All of your videos about him thus far hasn’t actually involved him filming anything.

“I just need you to react to this trend, okay? It’s kind of old, but that doesn’t really matter,” you spoke quickly, trying to start the video before he could decline.

The music started playing instantly, with Steve awkwardly looking between the screen and you. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was reacting to, and it had him on edge. Just as the song reached the chorus, you turned and grabbed his face. Throwing caution to the wind, you followed through with your plan before you could back out, kissing him with all the passion and emotion you’d been holding back.

Steve froze, clearly surprised by your actions. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. He kissed you with equal passion and emotion, no longer paying attention to your phone recording the moment.

Neither of you noticed when the music cut off, too wrapped up in each other. When the need for air overpowered the desire to keep kissing him, you pulled back to gasp in a few breaths. Steve leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and breathing erratic.

The two do you spent the next few moments just breathing, trying to come to terms with what just happened. You gasped when his hands moved, one resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. His eyes were still closed when you chanced a glance at him.

“What was the trend?” he breathily whispered the words, still coming down from the high of kissing you.

“Huh?” you mumbled, unable to comprehend the question when he was still touching you like this.

“The TikTok trend? What was it?” his grip on your hip tightened, but his hand framing your face remained gentle.

“Oh, uh, it was- it was kissing your best friend/crush.” You whispered, heart still racing from his proximity. Your nerves had never been greater. Yeah, Nat always tells you that Steve has feelings for you, but what if he was just being polite? Maybe he didn’t know how to reject you when you kissed him out of nowhere, and now he’s trying to find a way to turn you down gently. What if-

“Was my reaction good enough to post?” he broke your train of thought with another question. You took a minute to think about the question, your brain still moving like molasses

“Um, that depends…” you froze when his eyes opened and stared into yours.

“On?” he prompted you to continue.

“Which caption I can use.” you finished the thought, finally remembering the two most common outcomes of the trend.

“What are the choices?” Steve smirked when you looked flustered, clearly not expecting this conversation.

“Uh, the two-” he began rubbing small circles into your hip with his thumb, effectively cutting off your train of thought again. It wasn’t until he lightly squeezed your hip again that you remember you were answering his question.

“Right! The two most common captions are some variation of ‘this was so awkward’ or ‘we’re dating now’,” you managed to blurt out the choices, blushing when he smiled at you.

“Well, I know which I prefer…” you waited with bated breath as he prolonged the silence, enjoying seeing you so on edge. You nearly whined when he let you go, moving to pick up your phone from the weight rack.

You watched in silence as he typed out a caption, tapping each letter with his pointer finger. A small smile formed on your lips at his adorable old man behavior. He then managed to find the post button, adding the video to your account before handing you the phone to see what he chose.

Your smile only grew after you read the caption, dropping the phone and immediately kissing him again.

Meanwhile, Nat had gathered the rest of the team that happened to be around to wait for whatever video you had planned to be posted.

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Peter, and Clint all watched as the new video popped up on the screen. Peter bounced with excitement when he heard the song, instantly recognizing the trend. The rest of the group watched as you kissed Steve, mouths gaping open when he actually kissed you back.

Fans were already commenting about how long it took for the two of you to get together, but the team was too focused on laughing at the caption to pay any mind to the comments.

She said the trend was kind of old, but that fits because I’ve got a habit of waiting too long anyways.

Permanent taglist: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @sebastnstn @jswessie187 @ellobruv

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x y/n #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers one shot #Steve Rogers fic

299 notes · View notes