#early 2000s roll on lip gloss | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softlyjiminie · 4 years ago

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cherry glosses n car washes | j.j.k

⇢ pairing(s): goth!jeon jungkook x sorority sister!reader.

⇢ word count: 7K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: pwp, smut, fluff, college!au, sorority!au.

⇢ summary: in the blistering heat of the summer sun, a bikini carwash is the last place you’d expect to find tattoo bearing, black sweater wearing jeon jungkook. but then again, no one expected to find him dating everyone’s beloved sorority queen YN LN either. in all honesty, he only really came to support her…but most definitely in more ways than one.

⇢ warning(s): please read! brief fight scene, heavy smut, pwp, switch!jungkook, switch!reader, oral sex (male receiving.), oral fixation, fingering, handjobs, heavy!exhibitionism, dirty talk, overstimulation, male masturbation, cumplay, creampie, unprotected sex - please wear protection!

⇢ author’s note(s): hello my loves! happy august! i hope you all are having a beautiful summer! the time has finally arrived for this cheeky fic, read with caution! extreeeme jk spice up ahead. ( thank you to @bangtan-headquarters for allowing me to participate in their Bangtan Boardwalk Collab Event! )

everyone knows who YN LN is. some know you as a daughter, a friend but to everyone at alpha delta pi, you were sister. you were a kind to all, taking care of your peers in your sorority, whether that be during times of hardship or just needing a simple friend to pull through. no person went untouched by your bright light, no person went without your cheery smiles and soft spoken voice, through cherry glossed lips and under peach blush. you made friends everywhere you went, entrancing them with sparkling eyes and a soft cherry blossom scent— and although you denied it, you were everything everyone wanted to be; smart, pretty, popular— you were living the dream.

but then there was your dream...jeon jungkook.

with dark ink tattoos of guns and roses spiralling down his arms and intertwining with his finger tips, long, thick hair and more piercings than you could count, jeon jungkook was the epitome of college bad boy. your boyfriend was the complete opposite of yourself, trading out any colour for black sweatshirts and heavy combat boots, grazed knuckles and a pierced lip that contrasted with the bubblegum pink shirts you wore every wednesday because your sorority was obsessed with early 2000s movies and yelling ‘you can’t sit with us!’ to jocks across the quad.

jungkook liked rock music, his motorbike named missy, painting his nails black and writing songs with his little band ( the weeping kittens, which you always found absolutely morbid but loved anyways ) whilst you liked collecting sparkly lipgloss and pretty stationary kits and those sanrio stickers that you liked to put on jungkook’s phone case sometimes. it was a wonder to anyone on campus how you got together, and to say they were intrigued was an understatement.

but you loved him for who he was, even with all of his odd little tendencies; like wearing black in the summer and scrunching his nose up when he laughed too hard, or how he used your hair clips to hold his hair back when he was concentrating. you liked that he quiet in class but loud and giggly with you, soft and sensitive, snarky and sweet. jungkook wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met, not like jung hoseok from your brother frat— who all your friends thought you’d end up with. of course, you’d flirted with the jock once or twice at parties but he hadn’t stolen your heart that night in sophomore year when jungkook stole your kisses in the back of his yoongi hyung’s van.

and although your friends still try to set you two up, jung hoseok will never be your jeon jungkook— there just isn’t anyone else like him.

that’s why you wear his oversized black AC/DC shirt that differs very much from the pink interior of your room, decorated by your roommate in the sorority house on campus. you didn’t have the heart to tell aerum that the feathers above your bed made you sneeze in your sleep, or that her choice of wallpaper sometimes made you woozy and that you’d much rather a less...bedazzled look; so you let her decorate as she pleases, with only a few hums in of agreement when she changes the settings on the LED lights every week. it’s only now that you realise how blistering this summer is, so you have the air con turned up to the max— goosebumps rising on your bare legs as you chat to your boyfriend of a year over facetime about you’re upcoming philanthropy project.

‘a bikini car wash, huh? like in those teen romcom movies you make me watch?”

your boyfriend mumbles absentmindedly—jungkook has his phone propped up against something, giving you a full view of his perfectly toned body as he strums away at his guitar— he claims he’s writing you another song, the lyrics purely focused on your pink skirts and cherry vanilla chapstick, but your concentration slips as you watch his inked fingers tug at his guitar strings...thinking about the way they’d curl around your throat or slip into the warmth of your mouth and press down against your pink tongue.

your lover glances up from playing for just a brief moment, the corner of his red lips twitching up into a brilliant smile when he catches you looking. ‘dollface, you’re staring.’ he whispers smugly, quirking his pierced brow at you and you struggle to hide the warm blush that blooms across the apples of your cheeks and neck.

“no i’m not.”

‘don’t be a brat, you know you are.’

you whine at his scolding tone, rolling over on your disney printed bed sheets because after all, you’re still a little girl... or his little girl as jungkook would put it. he makes a low noise in his throat, finally putting down his god forsaken instrument so he can pay attention to you, before sitting back in his seat expectantly. “are you sure you don’t wanna come? we’re raising money for a good cause!” you try again, jutting out your bottom lip in full pouty mode as you bat your eyelashes up at him. you’d been trying to convince jungkook to come to your philanthropy event for at least a week— the aforementioned car wash that was happening tomorrow— but whenever you brought it up, his gaze would drop and he’d fall quiet. “we’re donating all the proceeds to food shelters...”

‘i don’t know, YN...’

“i even got a new bikini, i wanna show it off for you!”

‘angel...’ your boyfriend sighs, running a hand through his midnight locks with the lightest hints of frustration. you deflate immediately, dropping the topic in favour for not pushing him any further. you don’t mean to upset him, you just really want him there so you can show him off and gush about how much you love him— the thought itself has your pout deepening before you know it. ‘come on now dollface don’t make that face, you know i can’t help myself when you make that face...’

this much is true, you know that no matter what you’re doing, if you make that face— jungkook’s a goner. “meh...” your voice is quiet and muffled from where you’ve shoved your face into the sheets to hide from jungkook, because you know that you’ll melt if you look at him. you don’t know what it was about him, but your lover always had a way of making you feel small in the best of ways. despite his quiet personality, jungkook was very domineering inside and outside of the bedroom, he cared for you like no other, protected you like no other. he wasn’t one to take advantage your kindness and he wasn’t about to let anyone else do the same so perhaps that’s also why you fell for him.

jungkook hums, leaning into the camera to get a better look at you. ‘it’s not that i don’t want to come and support you baby... i’m just worried that you’ll be exposed too much and—’ he lowers his voice, so you feel as if he’s lying right next to, causing you whimper out for him. the boy tuts, a lazy smile painting his lips as he looks at you with all the love in his eyes. ‘—and god as much as i’d love to see you show off your little outfit for me, i’m not so sure i’d fit in with your...crowd of friends...’ you nod your head slowly in understanding, because as much as you loved the girls in your sorority, they had a knack for making jungkook feel like he didn’t deserve you, purely because he was different from your usual type and jungkook was always too shy and introverted to say anything. you hated that he couldn’t feel comfortable around your friends like you could with his— so you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to come around.

“s’ okay googie,” you hum, curling into a ball on your bed as he laughs at your pet name for him. “i’ll just have to show it to you another time.”

‘another time it is, dollface.’ jungkook repeats, pretending to boop your nose through the screen. you talk for a little while longer before the members of the weeping kittens come in and interrupt your facetime call. the band consists of four members; yoongi the drummer, namjoon the guitarist , jimin the bassist and jungkook, of course, lead singer and guitarist number two. the older two occupy themselves with teasing your boyfriend, poking his cheeks and singing old playground songs ( “YN and jungkook sitting in the tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”) whilst jimin clings to the youngest like a baby and if you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought that the purple haired male was the baby of the group.

jungkook’s cheeks flush a deep crimson when you decide to play along, wishing him a goodnight that makes his face ripple with cringe. “sleep tight googie-poo,” you coo with a sing song tone, finally sitting up to blow him a kiss. the other members shriek with laughter, ruffling their little junggoogie’s mop of dark hair as you tease him for them to see. “i love youuu!”

‘goodnight angel-bear,’ jungkook says quietly, gritting his teeth has he sinks into his sweater to hide his embarrassment. you know his reaction is more of a result of his hyung’s teasing— he claims he can’t sleep well without saying goodnight in your special way. ‘i love you too...’ he mumbles, giving you a shy smile before hanging up the call, leaving you to fall asleep with an equally wide smile.

“there you go, joongie, hope she’s clean enough for you!”

you grin as you wipe the remaining sudds off of hongjoong’s bright red vintage car that you’re sure he spent all of his college loans on. nonetheless, you take the twenty he offers you from his wound down window and ruffle his matching strawberry hair. “thanks YN-ah,” he giggles, turning away from you for a brief second to tuck his wallet away, he briefly smacks his friend ( mingi ) on the thigh for staring at your boobs — and you can’t blame him, you love those girls — before offering you a bright smile. “you guys did a great job on her.”

you thank him once again, winking at mingi with a sly smile before waving the boys off and waiting for the next customer. the bikini car wash your sorority has set up is booming with business, students from across campus driving in to get their cars cleaned. some of the girls on the committee ordered in pink and white balloons to hang outside your dorm house, with a handmade sign saying ‘alpha delta pi wash!’ painted in pastel shades. your girls are having a great time too, looking stunning in all types of bathing suits that show off their beautiful bodies under golden rays, splashing each other with soapy water to ease the burn of the summer sun against their skin.

you quite like the little number you’re wearing too, a pale pink two piece with obsidian black accents and panelling at either side. you wave to some of the girls as you head over to your booth to count the cash you’ve made so far, when the familiar sound of rowdy cheers and hollering boys fills the air. barely glancing up from your work, you note the excited squeals of younger members of your sorority— already tripping over their flip flops to get a taste of the frat boys that take over your car wash.

“what does a guy have to do to get his car washed around here?”

rolling your eyes, you close the catch box with a drawn out sigh— picking up your gaze to meet that of jung hoseok’s. he stands half a head taller than you, chocolate brown hair parted and pushed back from his forehead, he wears the typical varsity jacket and baseball cap combo, paired with blue jeans and his signature chunky trainers. you wouldn’t lie and say that hoseok wasn’t attractive because you’d messed about with him once or twice before, but now he couldn’t seem to understand the boundaries of your blossoming relationship with jungkook. “pay thirteen bucks and use some manners?” your question is more of a statement, with you not in the mood to deal with a cocky frat boy who thinks he’s entitled to your service. the brunette looks taken a back, not used to your snarky attitude with him, but today was not a day for you to be messed with, all you wanted was to raise money for a good cause and have fun, not deal with assholes like him. nonetheless, the jock hands you his donation with a smirk as you whistle over one of the girls to help him.

“hyeri, you don’t mind helping hoseok over here do you—?”

“no,” hoseok cuts in, stepping between yourself and the older girl— stopping her from taking the equipment she needs to clean his car. you roll your shoulders, a light sweat dripping between their blades as frustration builds up within your temple— dealing with hoseok is bothersome and all you want is to relax and let lose. the brunette steps closer to you, and hyeri watches with blushing cheeks, the short, red head almost wishing she was in your position— her flustered attitude only inflating the boy’s ego. so entitled. hoseok was so so entitled. thinking that he could get anything he wanted from any girl just because he was pretty, and maybe that was the reason why he liked you so much— because you resisted him. “i want you to do it, YN, wash my car for me princess? please?”

scoffing, you cross your arms and send an apologetic look to the bumbling mess that is now hyeri. “book him a slot for me, love? i’ll let you help?” you ask softly to which she nods her head and runs off to take a note. hoseok smiles triumphantly but his win is quickly shot down by the glare you send him, and if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. “you know it’s gonna cost you extra for even having me near you, right?”

“that’s an extra cost i’m will to pay...” the boy hums, smirk finding its way onto his lips once again, as he hands you another twenty before heading back to his car full of idiots. relieved that he’s gone ( for the time being ) you release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding and head off to grab an extra bucket and sponge to clean hoseok’s obnoxiously bright yellow ferrari, but not before you take a second to reapply a layer of your favourite cherry gloss that had faded during the day.

you miss the recognisable sound of yoongi’s truck while your back is turned to the hustle and bustle of your event, so your skin jumps with goosebumps when a familiar pair of arms wrap around your bare waist. “guess who?” a soothing voice whispers into your ear, causing a light giggle to pass between your freshly glossed lips.

“let me think, is it mr. tall dark and handsome?” you tease, squealing as jungkook picks you up and spins you in his arms. before he’s even set you back onto your feet, your boyfriend attacks your face with soft kisses while tugging you into him. “you came!” you beam, once jungkook finally allows you to pull away— using an inked finger to trace patters on the small of your back. hums of approval sound from the bottom your throat while your stresses melt away, your boyfriend’s presence easily calming you down.

jungkook nods, a small smile tickling the corners of his pierced lips as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and presses your foreheads together. “i realised that i was being stupid,” the guitarist mumbles, lips only inches away from your own— you’re so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin and his own body heat radiating against yours. although your foreheads are growing sticky from sweat ( a result of the intense summer heat ), you don’t mind, loving being in close proximity to your lover. “i shouldn’t let the fact that we have different friends stop me from showing my support, i shouldn’t be one to judge your events or say i think you’re exposing yourself— because this is your body and your choice and i’m so proud of you, sorry for being a dumb boy.”

you boop his nose, heart melting at your boyfriend’s words and even more when he scrunches his nose under your touch. “but you’re my dumb boy,” you add, teasing him slightly as you lean up to brush your lips against his. from the outside, it would appear that jungkook would always be the one to make you flustered— so it amused you when your larger, much more intimidating boyfriend blushed under the slightest touches from you. he puckers his lips, awaiting your kiss only for you to nip at his earlobe and whisper. “now how may i help you today?”

pulling away, you can see jungkook shyly curling in on himself— beyond flustered by your actions. his brown doe eyes avoid your gaze while his fingers slip into the sleeves of his black sweater as if he’s hiding. “i uh, also came to get yoongi hyung’s truck washed... he’s not happy with the state we left it in last time,” your lover mumbles quietly, and now you understand why he’s acting more shy than usual.

with bubbling laugher, you reach onto your tippy toes to ruffle jungkook’s long black locks— effectively moving them out of place. “i can help with that, koo,” you tease and pinch his cheeks as you return to your normal height. “but i can’t promise it’ll be any cleaner than last time—“ jungkook tugs you into his chest once more, opening his mouth to speak, when a car begins honking from your left. you huff, pushing your head into your boyfriend’s broad chest while you grip his sweater. “it’s hoseok...i’m sorry.”

jungkook shakes his head, offering you one of his beautiful bunny smiles before he leans down and captures your bottom lip between his teeth. his deep caramel eyes are locked onto yours before he grasps your cheeks and kisses you fully, tongue slotting perfectly against yours as they battle in a light dance for passion. but as soon as the kiss comes, it’s over, jungkook releasing you while you stand dazed to process what happened. your boyfriend was never one for PDA but you definitely notice how he smirks and revels in the cheers you both get, sending heat straight down to your core and making a light slick pool between your thighs. cheeky bastard. the boy salutes you as he lets you go, allowing you to run off to hoseok’s car while someone else books your lover in, before he heads back over to the truck. you make quick work of building up the suds for washing the car, dipping your sponge into the soapy water as you work on the hood— deciding now of all times, would be an ample opportunity to tease him. in the meantime the guitarist makes himself comfortable in the drivers seat of yoongi’s truck, watching you get to work— and it’s not long before he notices little things about you, like how you lean over hoseok’s car a little more, drawing attention to the curve of your ass or how you purposely drench yourself with the crisp, clear and cool soapy water when you ring out each sponge.

suddenly, jungkook’s pants begin to grow tight and his senses kick into overdrive as he becomes increasingly aware of the show you’re putting on for him. the boy knows what you’re doing, from the way you look at him from over your shoulder, to the spark in your eyes and the way you lick your cherry gloss lips. jungkook’s body acts for him, hand sliding down to the buckle of his pants as he slowly undoes it— his cock is half hard in his briefs just from watching you. he hisses when he grabs his length, pumping it slowly. jungkook feels wrong, dirty for touching himself in public, let alone in his hyung’s van but he can never help himself when it comes to you— so he almost whimpers when you lean over to soap up hoseok’s window and give him a full view of your breasts in the little pink bralette you wear.

the guitarist thanks his luck that his dark sweater covers his dirty work, thrusting he shallowly into his hand— imagining that it’s your cute little pussy clenching around him. the warmth of need bursting in his chest because god, you look so good and he knows you’ll sound better when you’re underneath him. squeezing his cock, jungkook let’s a low groan rumble in his chest— fingertips just brushing at his orgasm.

but the euphoria of his release is suddenly ripped away from him when another girl he recognises as your roommate, areum, from the nights he visits you at the house— knocks on his window. jungkook tears his hands from his pants and gives the girl a smile, driving over to get the truck washed just as you finish up with hoseok. you smile at the job you’ve done and the way the frat member’s car shines as you dry up your hands. right when you’re about to leave to find jungkook, hoseok slips from his vehicle and grabs your wrist so that your attention is turned to him.

“she looks great, YN... thanks for cleaning her up,” hoseok praises you, leaning back against his precious yellow ferrari that you’re sure is loaned ( because realistically what college student could afford such a fancy car ), you blink, appreciative of his thanks and nod your head but your mind is too hazy from the looks your guitarist lover was giving you earlier. you know he’s beyond turned on at this point and your mouth almost waters from the thought of him taking you right there, right now. “is there any way i can repay you?”

you snap out of your thoughts, tugging your wrist from hoseok’s grip and smiling at him sweetly— hoping that it speeds up your interaction so you can return to your boyfriend. “you already paid.” you mumble bluntly, turning to leave once more before you’re pulled back into the taller male’s grasp.

“why so distant YN-ah? let me take you out to say thanks?”

“let me go hoseok.” you warn, growling out your words. it’s like he couldn’t understand, that he was incapable of realising that you just weren’t interested in him like that anymore. your eyes and heart were set on jungkook, your days flirting and messing about with boys from the neighbouring frat were over and you didn’t care what people thought of your new relationship. yes, jungkook wasn’t your usual, conventional type but he was yours. your shy, emo, inked, pierced pretty boy.

“just think about it...” the boy pushes for you to consider it, pulling you into him by the hips as the pads of his fingers sink into your naked skin.

“hoseok.” you repeat, your tone much harsher this time as you push him back by his shoulders.

“just let me—“

the wind is knocked out of you before you have a chance to retort, as you’re yanked free from hoseok’s burning grip into a warm and familiar embrace. you immediately recognise jungkook’s sweet, floral scent and cast your gaze upwards, his sharp jaw is clenched, pierced nose is flared and skin shines under the sun from his light perspiration. you’ve never seen him so angry before, at least not in public. jungkook has never been one to start fights or initiate major PDA in front of anyone, so his attitude today... shocks you. “are you dumb, stupid, or is it both?” your boyfriend spits, anger at hot as the sun that beats down on you. his large palms that hold onto your waist tighten and his possessiveness starts to make you light headed with want. you don’t know if it’s the fact that you’re both angry or that jungkook never gets this pissed but you feel the same wetness from earlier begin to gather in your panties. “shit man,” jungkook continues as a crowd begins to gather. “when a girl says to fuck off, you fuck off, especially when she’s taken.”

your pupils blow wide, gaze flickering over to hoseok who’s chest rises and falls with a mix of embarrassment and anger. you can’t tell which is the more domineering emotion. “and what if i don’t ‘fuck off’ what are you gonna do about it freak? we both know she deserves better than you.” hoseok goes for a low blow, eliciting a chorus of ‘ooo’s and ‘fight! fight! fight!’s from the group that surrounds you and his car. your boyfriend clenches his teeth ready to to spit out another comeback when you detangle yourself from his grip and knee hoseok in the dick before giving him a good old sucker punch— watching with a satisfied glossy grin as he doubles over in pain.

“YN, you bitch!” he cries out in pain, and you’re about to swing again when jungkook lifts you by your hips— legs kicking and arms flailing just to get another taste. once you’re a fair distance away, your boyfriend sets you down as you shake out your hand— knuckles barley bruised from the punch and you know that your lover is impressed ( and maybe just a little more turned on ).

hoseok’s frat brothers help him clear up his bloody nose while girls fawn over the poor thing. you’re not surprised when hyeri gives you a disappointed look, punishing you with the task of cleaning the interior of the douche’s car whilst the sorority takes a lunch break. something about repaying him for almost breaking his nose. you don’t mind though, you were far too hungry for something else.

“that was hot,” jungkook mumbles against your neck after everyone’s gone, he’s got you pressed against the door of yoongi’s truck— thigh between your legs and lips barley touching your neck. you moan lowly, feeling your hips naturally grind down against the meat of your boyfriend’s thigh whilst slick gathers at your entrance. the combat jeans he wears are a rough polyester, only adding to your stimulation but you’re beyond turned on at this point, not caring if anyone sees. not that they will, the car wash is closed while everyone’s on break, so you have time to kill. “the way you sucker punched him like that, god i don’t think my dick’s ever gotten that hard that fast...”

your laughter falls into an airy moan, as your fingers dance their way down from jungkook’s sweaty hair to push at his sweater. you wonder how he’s not burning in the thing with how thick it is, not to mention how black clothes attract heat but you don’t question it, only knowing one thing and one thing only. that you want it off. “don’t lie to me googie,” you whine when he pulls away to rid himself of the ghastly article of clothing— a different type of heat building in your core. “saw you watchin’ me wash hoseok’s car earlier, bet you were painfully hard just sitting there knowing you couldn’t touch me,” you breathe, enjoying the way he twitches in your grasp as you yank him up for a blazing kiss. his strawberry tongue swipes over your lips to taste the cherry they have painted on and the flavour bursts in your mouth as he forces your lips apart and tangles his tongue with yours. when he pulls away, only a trail of saliva connects you both, making you both groan in unison. “were you touching yourself, baby?” you ask breathlessly, forcing your head back against the cool surface of the truck.

“fuck, angel face...” jungkook hisses at your lewd words, hips stuttering when you grab his growing bulge through his jeans. “h-how’d you know?

“i just know you.”

your boyfriend presses his lips to yours once again, fingers diving down to pinch your clit over the panties of your bikini— making you squeal with pleasure. jungkook swallows each and every one of your noises, hands trailing up and down your body until the slide under your bralette where inked fingers pull at your nipples and squeeze at your breasts. the peaks harden under jungkook’s touch, which is surprisingly cool despite the weather and you arch your back into him— desperate for more.

“let me feel you,” he finally says, sounding just as desperate as you and you nod, letting jungkook drop your feet to the ground gently and shove his shirt into the front of yoongi’s freshly cleaned truck. the guitarist is about to open the door for you when an idea pops into your head. pulling jungkook’s arm, you point over to the piercing yellow ferrari on the other side of of the lot outside of your sorority’s house and his face falls. within an instant, the key’s of hoseok’s car are back in your hand (after an hour of cleaning it) and jungkook is lowering you onto it’s hood. “want me to fuck you here, dollface? for everyone to see?”

you nod your head, a series of incoherent babbles falling from between your lips as you stare up your boyfriend with a hazy look in your eye— a look that drives him wild. jungkook strips you of your bralette and takes a breast into his mouth, sucking and licking and biting like a man devouring his last meal. you have no choice but to take what he gives you, closing your eyes to the melody of wet, sloppy sounds as his warm tongue swirls around each bud— contrasting with the cold metal of hoseok’s car beneath you. his freehand tweaks your other nipple before dancing down to between your legs as he pushes your thighs further apart. wetness pours from your burning entrance, causing your panties to stick deliciously to your pussy and jungkook groans around your second breast ( having switched between the two ) before he slides his two fingers past the flimsy pink material to circle your dripping hole.

“please koo, finger me...fuck me!” you cry desperately, writhing against the expensive car that your pussy drools onto. he groans, wasting no more time as he pushes his tattooed digits into your tight cunt, you whimper as he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of you— dragging his finger tips against your needy walls as your eyes threaten to flutter shut from bliss.

your boyfriend tuts from your breast, standing straight to lean over you while more of your juices splatter lewdly against the hood of hoseok’s car. “nonono, angel, eyes open, want you to look at me as i stretch you open on this fucker’s car, yeah?” he pants, curling the fingers he has buried in your pussy so that they catch deliciously on that one spot. your bleary eyes focus on one thing and one thing only, your lover. the way that his lips shine under the sun with smears of your cherry lip gloss, and the way that his dark eyes shift to lighter shades of coffee brown in the sunlight— the way his strawberry lips are caught between his teeth as he pleasures you and your heart bursts with adoration. “that’s my good girl...” he mumbles, voice gravelly with need when he notices your open doe eyes.

with uncoordinated movements, you manage to tackle the buttons of jungkook’s pants, pulling his painfully hard cock free from its material confines. he practically whimpers when your burning palm comes into contact with his weighty length, his tip bright red and glistening with need. “feel good baby?” you ask him while doing your best to pump him in time with the thrusts of your fingers, creating the illusion of him being inside of you. jungkook leaks endless amounts of precum, eyes scrunching shut as he grows closer to his orgasm.

jungkook buries his mop of midnight hair into the crook of of your neck, kissing at the skin there. “d-didn’t finish earlier...” he stammers, thrusting his length into your grip. “if you don’t stop i’m gonna cum before being inside you...” he wastes no more time, pushing your pretty pink panties aside and slapping is leaking tip against your glistening pussy— teasing you both even though you’ve been craving each other all day. his strong, tattooed arms hook around your legs, bringing you closer to him as he finally pushes his cock past your entrance— you hiss in unison as his weighty length sits within you and you dig your heels into the small of his back to prompt him to move. “shit...angel, dreamed of this pussy all day...”

“then take it jungkook, take me like you mean it,” you almost scream, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. your nails dig crescent moons into his blemished, freckled skin as he circles his hips and drills is cock into you, tip rubbing against your fiery walls while you clamp down on him. your cunt selfishly sucks him in as you find the strength within you to lift your hips and meet his thrusts— loving the way he feels and the burn of his fat cock stretching you open. the air between you seems heavier, hotter as the sun shines brightly above you— your perspiration clouding the glimmer on the hood of hoseok’s car as mix of your arousals smear across the honey yellow paint. you’re messy, dirty, tainting hoseok’s car as jungkook fucks into you with wanton— chasing the release that’s been building in his stomach all day.

you love it though, the way he wrecks your little hole out in broad daylight for everyone to see if they wanted— the sounds of his hips slamming against yours filling the empty lot in front of your sorority. anyone could come back now and see you taking his cock, and the thought makes your pussy gush with sweet, hot nectar. “your cunt is so greedy, swallowing my cock whole,” jungkook reminds you, pushing his cock into your womb until he reaches the hilt. “you must like me taking you in public huh?” he speaks your thoughts, moaning heavily as you squeeze around his length with every word, your juices wetting him more. jungkook presses down on your tummy and you watch with awe as it bulges slightly— his hips never easing up as he pushes himself impossibly deeper inside of you. “god angel face, would you look at that, look at me inside of you.”

“you’re so big,” you praise from underneath him, gasping as he grinds himself into you— harsh material of his jeans brushing against your sensitive clit. you play a game of back and forth, pushing your hips against each other with every turn until jungkook picks up the pace again, a knot in your stomach begins to form— your orgasm sneaking up behind you as your pussy weeps and cries, painting the front of jungkook’s jeans as well as your pretty thighs. “wanna cum on this thick cock of yours koo, make me cum please please...”

“you’re driving me insane dollface,” jungkook comments through gritted teeth, pounding into you now at a relentless pace— you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock against your walls, causing your jaw to go slack as you drip endlessly. he shuts your pleas up with the two fingers in your mouth letting you taste the remains of your essence. your boyfriend only manages a few more thrusts before you’re falling limp against him with new colours flashing behind your eyes as cream against his cock. jungkook rides out your high, hitting your g-spot over and over and almost reaches his climax when you hear someone’s footsteps against the gravel. eyes widening jungkook pulls your weak frame into his chest, using the discarded keys to open hoseok’s car door before bringing you inside. your heart thumps as you spot a sister from your sorority in the side mirrors, she seems to be looking for something but for now, you remain out of view.

with that in mind, you push yourself out of jungkook’s iron grip— knowing full well that he still hasn’t cum. ignoring your boyfriend’s nervous and confused expression along with the thumping in your chest, you drop to your knees, paying no mind to the burn the gravel causes against them. “YN, what are you—?” jungkook never finishes his question as you brace yourself on his thighs, giving sweet kitten licks to his tip before taking him into your mouth. you won’t need to do much work, he’s already close and you can tell from the way his abs clench and his fingers weave their way into your hair. your free hands pump what doesn’t fit into your hot mouth, as you drool on his cock and spit gathers on your chin.

your boyfriend whimpers quietly in the front passenger seat and you slap his inner thighs when the girl walks past. you spare a glance to the mirrors once more, swirling your tongue around your lover’s length as he strains to hold in his moans. he whispers ‘pleases’ under his breath, begging you to let him cum...so once the footsteps retreat and disappear completely, you tap his thigh once and jungkook immediately bucks his hips. your jaw falls lax as he thrusts into your mouth as if it were your tight heat, desperately chasing the release he’s been waiting for all day. “fuck, fuck, shit!” he curses as your throat tightens around his length, causing him to spill his seed into your mouth. you swallow gratefully, only pulling away to show him the mess he made of your tongue before letting him pull you onto his lap. “such a dirty girl, sucking me off like that with people around...”

“you loved it,” you tease, twirling his long hair between your fingers as he kisses down the valley between your breasts.

“would have loved to cum inside you, more.”

you straddle jungkook’s lap, letting his half hard cock brush against your soaked panties as you grind down on him. “then let me make you cum again; let me ride you.” you state more so than ask, taking his hands into yours and intertwining your fingers. jungkook looks up at you with bright starry eyes, and you lose yourself within their constellations— you loved him, you knew that and no one would change that. the mood slips into something softer and you’re no longer in a rush to ruin hoseok’s car, instead you take your time easing yourself down onto your love’s length as it hardens with each stroke of your hips.

neither of you will last long this time, sensitive from your previous releases but that doesn’t stop you from slowly lifting your hips and bringing them back down to start a steady pace. the length of jungkook’s weighty girth, drags along your velvet walls with each rock of his hips into yours, sending tingles of pleasure down your spend. he lets go of your right hand, using his large inked palm to grab at your waist, guiding you into him in away that makes him whine. he moves onto your ass, squeezing the peachy flesh as you bounce on him, launching you both into new realms of pleasure.

“love that ass baby, how good it looks in this little set,” jungkook whimpers against your sweat slicked skin, closing his eyes to tune into the sounds of your angelic moans and wetness against his dick. “always so pretty for me...”

you swivel your hips in soft circles, clamping down on your lover with each word of praise as he sucks blues and indigos and violets between your breasts, his mouth salivating from watching them bounce with every thrust into your tight heat. he worships you under the golden sun, heated bodies moving together as you both work towards release. “it’s all yours, koo,” you cry, biting your cherry lips— bitten red and swollen from kisses your lover used to soothe your cries of wanton. “i’m all yours.” you add before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and you’re pulling him by the hair to yank him into another sweet kiss, tasting traces of your gloss on his pinkish lips.

“mine.” jungkook claims your mouth as his, as you squeeze and clench and clamp around his girth, tears beginning to roll as your high approaches. the guitarist doesn’t up, letting you swallow his whines as the sensitivity grows too much, the tip of his length hitting that one spot over and over again while you push your hips down to meet his every thrust.

“look me in the eyes when you cum with me.” you growl to him, freeing your hands to cup his cheeks— lips tingling and cunt spasming. jungkook can barely nod but he obliges, deep brown eyes pulling you in as his warm breath fans across your face. you drown in his eyes, falling under as the knot in your stomach finally snaps— your hips falter as you cling to jungkook with all you have, release glazing his cock until he fills you with his creamy essence. your fingers massage his wet scalp while you bury your face into his neck, hearing him whimper and cry out as he fills you over and over again.

eventually, the sensitivity grows too much and jungkook pulls out of you with small moans, fingers finding your messy entrance as a mix of your arousals drips onto the leather seats. “i love you, angel face...so fucking much,” he finally says with glossy eyes and a tiny smile, dipping his finger into your leaking hole and smearing the evidence of your rendezvous against your lips.

“and i love you, more than anything.” you hum back, licking the sweet and salty sheen from your lips before mirroring your lovers smile because all though he’d rubbed of your cherry gloss, jungkook’s cum was the next best thing.

⇢ taglist !

@periminkle @singular-itae @ggukkieland @preciouschimime @ultraanonymousey @aishots @yiyibetch @luvrssunrise @uyyugukkie @10cm @4gustdx @codeinebelle @itssmarla @http-je0n

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m0tel6mxzzy · 3 years ago

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early 2000s kid core: h20 just add water, those roll on lip glosses, youtube spells from little girls swearing it would turn you into a mermaid, every witch way

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y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff · 16 days ago

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Some of my favorites in my collection <3

Bonne Bell Green Apple Spritz Flip Gloss, BBW Art Stuff Frutie Cutie Roll on Glitter, Art Stuff POP Lotta Lemon Body Splash, Art Stuff Sassy Starberry Roll on Glitter and Bonne Bell Rocket Pop Flip Gloss

Art Stuff: 1996-2004

Flip Glosses: 2000

My personal picture of my collection <3

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shhhlikeme · 4 years ago

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THE SEXY

HALL🎃WEEN COSTUME 🎃👻💀🍬 YOU WEAR THAT MAKES YOUR VOLLEYBALL PLAYER GO: 🥵🥵 part 3

(NSFW 18+)

Haikyuu!!

Ft. Matsukawa, Daichi, Kuroo & Ukai

Part 1 🩸 Part 2 🩸 Part 3 🩸 Part 4 🩸 Part 5

Coach Ukai -

Early 2000’s Music Video Baddie 🎥💿

Please be advised that Keishin Ukai graduated high school in 2004. Canon.

Class of 2004....whew

That means, he was apart of a generation where the club bangers were LIT LIT and the music videos were even better

Alexa, play: Always on Time By Ja Rule and Ashanti 📢🎵

A generation that consisted of young males like Ukai who liked big clothes, natural faces, and VIDEO HONEYS 💦

Anyway, you knew this, even though you were younger than your fiancé, and so you decided to dress up as a video girl from the early 2000s to see how he’d react

You looked absolutely stunning

And Keishin literally could not handle it,

Nah like forreal.

Like most guys who were young in that era, he used to watch videos like 50cent’s ‘Candy Shop’, Ciara’s ‘[My] Goodies,’ and Nelly’s ‘Hot In Here’ and stare at the gorgeous dancers in the back that were simply eye candy

YO DJ PLAY THAT FUCKING TRACK: 💥👊

(A/N: If you don’t know these songs you’re too young for these headcanons. pls exit!!!!!)

Anyway,

To your man, You looked like the finest video vixen to ever live dressed as Normani in that Motivation video

Your hair was curly, your lips were glossed to the GAWDS and your hips didn’t lie as you danced at this 2000s themed Halloween party you both went to

Your man was having mad nostalgia there in the best way, everyone was having the time of their lives

But when he stopped to really stare at you on the dance floor with your girls, he replaced the setting and saw you dancing behind T.I grinding on a white 2004 Bentley

He got a boner so quick.

Because He was reminded that you were the sexiest thing alive.

He licked his lips, and was gone

That’s why it only took one more dance for him to have you in the coat closet, bent over with both your manicured hands hanging on to the doorknob for dear life as your fiancé fucked you with his fingers from behind

“Fuck, babe. You like that, huh?” He watched intently as your skirt flipped up and down with his finger strokes.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as Ukai’s middle finger hit that sweet spot inside your tight walls that only he knows how to find

“Y-yesss!!!”

Even with the booming music, you were being so loud. Still working his fingers, Keishin leaned in close to you and stuck his unoccupied fingers in your mouth to quiet you down.

Content by having some form of him in your mouth, you sucked on them with vigour, your eyes fluttering closed because your fiancé did not let up on his finger game.

“Good girl.” He breathed into your ear, making you squirm. “If I saw you in a video back then, I’d have to jack off to it every day.” He said, inserting another finger and curling them, making you see stars.

You shuddered, your incoming orgasm only allowing you to lazily swirl your tongue around the long fingers in your mouth.

“We’re making our own video when we get home. Got it?” Stated your fiancé. He leaned in closer to press his hard member through his pants on the side of your bare leg. You moaned.

“Got it?!” He repeated, speeding up his fingers that were inside you, making you clench around him.

You nodded as tears pricked at your eyes.

needless to say, the video you made that night was way better than any video he’d ever seen when he was young. 😉

———————————

Kuroo Tetsurō -

Hogwarts Hottie 🕯👓

A/N: This is an ongoing debate within the fandom but lemme just say that I’m team -Kuroo is a sex God AND a nerd, aight?-

I’ve never read/seen HP but I just know this FINEASS man rates it

He has posters in his room, set memorabilia that he paid bare money for and everything

He picks you up around 10pm for the MSBY Halloween party, waiting in his car for you. It’s been 20 minutes.

But when Kuroo checks his watch one more time, annoyed that you were late, leaning forward to look at your porch through his passenger side window, his annoyance flees him and his heart stops because his eyes finally landed on you coming out.

He watched you lock up, the Hogwarts cape visible with a lightning bolt on the black fabric, and he has to stop himself from getting out before you lock the door so you guys can fuck first.....

he already took his seatbelt off smh. 🤦

The cape was absolutely accurate to the movies, but when you turned around.........

Kuroo choked on air.

All you wore was a body suit that exposed a lot of your beautiful chest, fishnet leggings that made him drool, and Harry Potter’s signature glasses that made you look like you just casted a spell to make your boyfriend horny all night

Fu-uck.

Tetsurō was still coughing from choking on air when you climbed into the car, and—concerned— you sat on your knees in the seat to be at a good angle to pat his back.

“Ku!!!! You okay!?!?”

Your boyfriend nodded through coughs, tears forming in his eyes due to the lung exertion and weird feeling in his throat.

When he started calming down, you relaxed, putting a hand over your beating heart. You began rubbing your boyfriend’s back soothingly instead, quirking an eyebrow because he seemed to be fine now, so why was he staring at the wand that you held on your lap?

“Kuroo...... are you okay?” You asked softly.

Your boyfriend lifts his gaze from your wand for a second, meeting your eyes questioningly. “Did you say Duro?” He asked.

“Huh? No I said Kuro-“

Before you could even finish your answer, your boyfriend shouted “WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!” And scooped you up using his strong arms, lifting you so that you were straddling his lap in your sexy costume.

You yelped, punching your boyfriend hard on the arm when he did that.

“KUROO WHAT THE FUCK—“

“Did you say Duro?” repeated the Raven with that half smirk that he knew made you wet.

“W-what?” Your anger dissipated, and you tried to look away.

Your man grabbed your chin in his hand and stabilized your position, leaning forward to start leaving wet and pleasurable kisses on your neck. You moaned, writhing in seconds after he nipped at you.

“It’s a spell,” Kuroo explained, moving one large hand under your cape to massage your ass over your fishnet leggings. He wanted to rip them so bad, but held back because he wanted to make you beg for it. “Say it,” Kuroo kissed harder into your skin, thinking the hickey he leaves there will make your costume all the sexier.

You let out a breathy moan as you shimmied your cape off your shoulders to allow your man more access to your neck. His mouth felt sooo good on your skin, and the tease fucking knew it. You were about to be a no-thoughts-head-empty ass bitch due to how good he was making you feel, but Kuroo repeated his demand, making sure you heard it the second time.

“S-say w-what?” You inquired, barely thinking anymore.

“The spell. Say: Duro.” Your boyfriend pushed you forward gently so that your back was leaning on the steering wheel more but not the horn. He then leaned down to kiss the skin on your chest, mainly the top of your breasts above your bodysuit, making your skin blaze with heat as a new wave of wetness hit your vag. You moaned loudly.

“D-Duro,” you relented, your back arching as you sought more friction. “Duro,” you repeated. “What does i-it-t m-me-mea-mean? Duro?”

Using your hands, you grabbed the dark locks of your boyfriend and he immediately groaned—getting very turned on.

Kuroo lifted his skin from your tasty skin so that his own lidded eyes met yours. He brought you back up so that your foreheads were pressed together. Tetsurō slid his hands to your hips and then he spoke lowly in his sex-voice that sent another wave of wetness through your panties.

“You say that spell…” He smirked. “to harden objects.” At the same time he finished his explanation, your man used his grip on your waist to press your lower body down so that your wet vagina pressed into the head of the hard and protruding tent in his pants.

You cried out in pleasure as you bucked your hips, letting his nerdy joke slide just this once. You needed more. Now!

Your bf Kuroo is a dork, yes, and he may make lame science and Harry Potter jokes........but you’ll be damned if his dick game wasn’t ✨magic✨

You’d be lying if you said this dork didn’t know how to use his big cock to transfer you to a new world.

No flying broomstick needed. 🧹

———————————

Daichi Sawamura -

‘Hoe-se Me Down’ ☔️🔥, Firefighter

A/N: in the fandom, I’ve been seeing a bunch of people cancel the idea that Daichi is a cop now lmao and are dead set on calling mans a firefighter now, so LISTEN— YOUR GIRL IS ON THAT TRAIN TOO.

Period.

#FirefighterDadchi

The day your husband decided to quit his job and get a new one as a firefighter because he didn’t want to contribute to and/or work for an apparatus that abuses POC,

You decided to dress up hot as fuck (no pun intended) for Halloween in bed to show him how amazing you think he is

You wore an appropriate ghost costume to his new-member Halloween party,

But when you got home???????!!!!!!

D A M N .

Ma’am, your hubby was wondering why he didn’t switch careers sooner.

His OWN hose *wink wink* was rock hard as soon as you entered the bedroom from the bathroom, his eyes were huuuuge and he was breathing heavily already, chest rising and falling faster every step you took toward him

he sat on the bed counting his lucky stars.

“Oh my God, Y/N.....” Whispered Daichi. His eyes raked your figure, from your hat to your front zipper, and down to your perfect feet in those yellow heels. “Good call not wearing this to the party.” He breathed, hands reaching up to his neck quickly to loosen his tie. “I might have lost my job before I even started. I’m sure my boss and my crew would not have appreciated my display of ‘lack of control’ because I would not being able to control myself from fucking you in front of all of them.”

“Mmmm?” You bit your lower lip. “Maybe they would,” you finished seductively.

You finally stopped to stand in front of your husband, and you blushed a bit under his fiery gaze. He looked like he wanted to lick every inch of you, and it made you shiver.

Daichi immediately reached out and pulled you closer, immediately pressing his face in your cleavage. He hummed on the flesh. “You’re right,” he mumbled, moving his head from side to side to envelope himself in your amazing breasts. “They’d love to see the most beautiful woman in the world naked and moaning and cumming again and again. I’m gonna break our record tonight, baby.”

You giggled, listening to your husbands muddled voice in your chest. You are more than delighted and ready for the challenge your husband set out.

You had no doubt that he could make you cum 6 times tonight, beating his record.

Crawling your hand down, you pressed both your hands on Dai’s pecs and pushed, making him lay flat on his back on your King-sized bed.

Daichi’s eyes were dark and fucking arousing, the look of them alone forcing you to immediately crawl on top of him, straddling his waist and holding your firefighter helmet in place.

Sawamura licked his lips, his eyes scanning your frame again. “You are going to be the death of me,” he sighed, his hands lifting to hold your waist. “That hat looks so good on you. You’re beyond hot, my wife.”

Oh my God he looked so sexy under you like this. Your breath hitched. “Yeah?”

The brunette nodded, starting to take his tie off fully now. He tossed it to the side and made work on unbuttoning his dress shirt. How hard his dick was was telling him to remove his damn clothes—ASAP.

“You know what they say about firefighters right?” Daichi asked hurriedly, he was so flirty tonight after having a few drinks at the party, and you always loved this side of him when you got glimpses of it.

Unable to breathe because your husband made you so horny, you shook your head. He chuckled.

“The hotter you are, the faster we come.”

You smiled, leaning in to claim his lips in a searing hot kiss.

“That’s fine, baby.” You whispered. “That’ll only be 1 of 6 tonight, right?”

Daichi growled, rolling you two over so that he was now straddling your waist. You stared up at your sexy man in awe as he removed his dress shirt, exposing his rippling muscles to you. Oh my…….

Oh My God, your vag felt like a fucking hose right now by how much liquid dripped out when you saw his abs. You were so wet.

Your husband leaned down just like you did to kiss you silly. You moaned into the kiss, wanting more. When Daichi let your lips go, he sweetly took your hand and lifted it so that he could lay a kiss on the wedding ring he put there.

“Let’s go for 7 tonight, wife.” He purred, before unzipping the rest of your costume.

———————————

Matsukawa Issei -

Hanamaki Takahiro 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A/N: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

YOOOOOOO FIGHT ME

THIS IS WHAT YOU DRESSED UP AS.

YOU HAD SET THIS UP FOR WEEKS, SETTING YOUR MAN UP FOR WHAT YOU TOLD HIM WOULD BE “THE SEXIEST HALLOWEEN COSTUME HE’S EVER SEEN IN HIS LIFE, YOU PROMISE”

YOUR BF WAS THINKING “BET” picturing you in a nurse costume, maid uniform, or a naughty school girl or something 🤤

SO WHEN YOU AND HANAMAKI’S GIRLFRIEND (who dressed as Mattsun!!!) HELD HANDS AND OBNOXIOUSLY SKIPPED INSIDE TO MEET YOUR TWO BOYFRIENDS AT THE BAR………………………………………….

MATSUHANA literally said nothing to y’all.

💀💀💀

They looked at you both, and then collected their things like:

AHHHHHHHHHHAHAHHAAAAAAAA

YOU FUCKING DID IT BRUV

IWA AND OIKAWA WOULD BE GAGGINGGGG:

The meme Kings were FINALLY stunned into silence !!!!

THE BANTER KINGS HAD NOTHING TO SAY.

They just stared.

Without a word, Hero & Makki chugged their new drinks and paid the bartender, walking out I repeat: without a WORD!

You chase after your boyfriend and jump on his back

“Booooooo Mattsun, why ya leaving?! We just got here! And I look sexy as hell! What happened to you were going to outdrink me tonight ?!” You couldn’t stop laughing at your boyfriends deadpan expression as you spoke. “I know you like thissss, stop capping!!!!”

Issei continued to wave down a taxi, ignoring you on his back.

“ISSEI STOPPPP HAHA, You love me and you love your bff Makki, so now you have both!!!! YOU’RE WELCOME!!!”

You jumped down and pulled the arm down that he was using to wave a taxi.

“Okay look! We can leave if you can look me in the eyes, then look at my entire costume and THEN tell me with a STRAIGHT FACE that you don’t like it.”

Your boyfriend stared at you challengingly, extremely annoyed because that is 100% something his best friend would say. Seeing you look like the female version of him was trippy, to say the lease, especially since he’s 3 drinks in.

You two had a staring contest with each other for a minute until Mattsun gave in and checked you out like you asked, looking down the length of your costume and back up to your temporarily dyed-pink hair that matched the shade of his best friend’s.

Mattsukawa lifted his eyes back to yours with a straight face:

(issei is p diddy)

You lifted an eyebrow, ready to call his bluff if he fucking tried it.

As if on cue, your boyfriend’s cheeks turned rosy pink. In admittance.

“I KNEW IT!!!!!!”

You exclaimed, grabbing Issei’s hand and pulling him back in the bar.

“I hate you. I hate you so much, Y/N.” grumbled your blushy boyfriend, following.

Without looking at him you smirked, secretly noting the fact that your boyfriend had not denied it yet.... nor could he 😏

A/N: not me realizing that I never linked part 2 in the part 1 links!!!! Smfh🤦🏾‍♀️ whatever. It’s there now!

Reqs for this series are CLOSED. 🚫

Happy Halloween 🎃🧡

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westerhos · 4 years ago

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Our Story: Chapter 7

Hi friends! Sorry for the delay here. I’ve been on vacation, so my priorities have been boozin’ and cruisin’. Thanks for your continued support of this story—I love hearing your feedback. This one’s a whopper of a chapter!

______

We often lose track of time in this great, big world of ours, in much the same way we lose a pair of keys, a couple of pens. “I swear I saw them two seconds ago!” we groan, groping to purse-bottoms, finding only lint and chump-change. So many things—these small facets of our lives—sucked into the void of bygones, taken before we can ever think to tie them down.

“I swear I was twenty-two just yesterday.”

This is how it is for Jamie and Claire, their years like old playbills confiscated by the wind and an invisible clock. Certain acts reappear from time to time, when the arm of a broom sweeps them into the light, when the frosting of dust disturbs, then floats. And for a brief moment, as the particles of time and forget resettle themselves, Jamie and Claire can hear their lives’ most glorious crescendos. The lowest notes tip-toe from the long-kept silence, rising and sinking slowly, steadily. All plucked strings, still vibrating, until the echoes die, cradling the past.

You can write an entire story with these bits and pieces of their lives, cut the acts together to form one winding opera. It plays and stops until, eventually, the grand finale. The overlap: a perfect harmony which carries them from their separate wings, to center stage and to each other.

And it is there, finally, that they meet again, lips and lives melding. They stand together in the orb of the spotlight. A single sun, glowing.

THE SPIRIT IN THE HORSE, 2000

Starring James Fraser, Jenny Fraser, Brian Fraser, The Doctor, Ellen Fraser, Fitzy (and a More-Than-Flash of Someone Else)

Though a bestselling author, JAMES FRASER did not grow up with dreams of books, but of horses.

He was born on an unusually hot day, spring 1968. Everything melting at its very seams, the birthing room’s thermometer feverish with mercury blood. His father and sister had fashioned fans from intake forms, moving heat-murk and birth-stink with the accordioned papers. They looked on with damp foreheads, lips white and tight, so that Ellen could have the breaths they saved.

At half-past noon, the doctor had caught Jamie’s auburn crown, dripping more heavily than his own laboring mother. All of this—the heat, the sweat, the waving forms—was taken as the stamp of Jamie’s fate. Surely, they had all agreed, he would set the world on fire, would be a brand forever puckering its skin.

The hibernators had emerged early that year, scurrying from their earthen wombs just as Jamie had slipped from his mother’s. Heat-drunk and dizzied, they had eaten everything in sight. Corn stalks, cabbage leaves, whole fields of barley—gone. Even Ellen’s strawberries, barely ripened—devoured by mid-April. The red fruits had shrunk to halves, then thirds, as the creatures munched and munched. Fleshy hearts eaten to bleeding, the pulp left to the sleepy stragglers.

And so on the day Jamie entered the world, the Frasers had returned to a dark and stifling house. Rot wafted from the windows, and the electrical wires were chewed cleanly through. One rabbit, the chosen martyr, had laid cooked in the grass, fur spiked.

Brian had thrust Jamie into his daughter’s arms, ran inside to rescue what unspoiled food he could (three eggs, a loaf of bread). Waiting in the yard, Jenny had imagined the wilting lettuce inside the fridge and Ellen, equally wilted under the blue hospital sheet. She had watched a squirrel leap across the berry guts, a rope of black wire between his paws.

How—if at all, she had wondered—would they survive without her mother?

Too exhausted for a trip to the store, Brian had fried the eggs on the driveway. The yolk was thick in his mouth and the sorrow thicker in his chest, before he realized Jamie’s cries had quieted. He started when he heard the horse’s whinny, the snorty exhale through its nostrils. Beside him, Jenny had scuttled away, feet scraping at the egg crusts.

Incensed by the heat and the crowd, Fitzy the horse had stormed her stable doors to freedom. She had brayed, desolate to find her owner gone, until she spotted the flame in Brian’s arms. Copper, auburn, cinnabar—all Ellen’s colors—poking from a swaddle of blue. And so Fitzy had bowed her head, brought Jamie into her awed silence. One shining moment, the first since Ellen’s passing—calm and peaceful.

Even now, 32 years later, Jamie loves to tell this story. How Brian had pressed his baby fist to the mane, his mother still a stickiness on his baby thumb. And how, as a young boy, Jamie had thought Ellen lived somewhere inside auld Fitzy. Something in the black bead of the mare’s eye: a flash, a peculiar spark. It was an acknowledgement that, until one night in 1989, Jamie had never felt before.

After his book tour in ’99, Jamie Fraser decided to take the leap—carpe diem—and purchase his own horse and his own land (fields way out in the Highlands; a farmhouse converted to splendor by his millions). The horse, like Fitzy, wears a chestnut coat. She is stubborn but loving, recognizes Jamie’s voice when he calls and his face when it floats above her stable door. He sees a flash of Fitzy—and of his mother, he thinks—when she surrenders her anger to Jamie’s flags of truce: a fresh Granny Smith, a carrot stick plucked from the ground. He sees a More-Than-Flash of Someone Else when she nudges his shoulder, apologetic. The only source of happiness, this beautiful beast, outside of his writing.

“Ye see?” Jamie had said after their first standoff, “Ye canna stay mad at me forever.” And when the horse had chomped the apple from his hand, he’d sworn that she was smiling.

“Mo nighean donn,” he’d whispered, and decided, then and there, to name her Sorcha.

______

CARROLL’S THEORY OF TRUTH, 2003

Starring Claire Randall, Frank Randall, Joe Abernathy, duncandonuts, wetwillie, mark_me_1745, parsleymarsley, l.mackenzie (and The Author)

When CLAIRE RANDALL is not working at the hospital, her nose is pressed to a blue-white screen.

For years, she had resisted those monstrous, blocky machines—Macintosh, Dell, Gateway—all brand names accompanied by her husband’s greedy and jabbing elbows.

But there was value in tradition, Claire had argued. A kind of sanctity in the ping of an Underwood or the swish of pen; privacy and authentic connection. Frank had merely rolled his eyes, always lusting after the new and shiny—whether it was a computer or a student’s gloss-plumped lips—knowing it was not “tradition” itself that his wife was holding onto.

“So like you, Claire,” he’d said bitterly one day, “wanting to stay stuck in the past.” And, of course, he’d been right. Just to spite him, she’d finally surrendered and gave him one for Christmas.

Gradually, Claire came to love the whirring engine, the wail of the dial-up, the period of isolation where she was unreachable by phone. Like time travel, almost, the way it took her places past and present, opening every door like some futuristic gentleman.

But mostly, Claire loved the computer for the freedom it gave her. Boot up the system, click the mouse, log on, be someone else. Online, Claire could play a different role than the surgeon or the amateur gardener, pretend she was not the wife who turned her cheek as often as she made her husband’s dinner. On the Internet, her identity was a thirty-word bio, her face a grey silhouette displayed comfortably—anonymously—inside a neat, square frame. A million different bodies growing inside her, once her fingers flew across keyboard:

Claire Randall, the British spy.

Claire Randall, the avid hiker, climbing the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Claire Randall, the mother, who loved the melt of ice cream down her daughter’s chin. Her tiny mouth, sweet and sugared, when it met hers for a kiss.

One website, her favorite, was this: a forum, populated by other faceless humans who, like Claire, could recite page 451 (or any others) of A Blade of Grass. In this corner of the online universe, they had spoken of The Author on a first-name basis, trading facts like prized baseball cards. But it was only Claire who could share the most private knowledge, attribute it all to her keen nose and thus earn the respect of 16 anonymous users.

Even so, Claire had been surprised by what they knew solely through their reading. The Author’s childhood, his relationships, his favorite color. She was able to ask her own prodding questions and receive correct answers, such as:

whiteraven: A long shot, but does anyone know how to contact him by telephone?

And five of the grey-faced few had responded.

duncandonuts: easier to send him send him a letter (might get lost among the rest of his fan mail though).

wetwillie: have you tried his agent, john grey, in london?

mark_me_1745: if u meet him, tell him 2 come 2 brasil!!!!!!! we <3 him!!!!!!!

parsleymarsali: Publishers Weekly mentioned he’s now with Geordie Gibbons at the Claude F. Agency, not Grey, @wetwillie. Think it had something to do with creative differences and missed deadlines.

l.mackenzie: pass that info onto _me_ if you find it, girl! <g>

By a stroke of luck, someone had known someone who’d known someone who’d known someone. And just like that, she was given a phone number the following Wednesday. A day like any other, if it weren’t for a single string of digits sitting in her inbox, a silent but ticking grenade.

She spent three months with the numbers inside her head, stored in a folder marked with The Author’s name. She did manage to call though—once—when her hand finally lowered from its hover. She’d waited out the sonorous ring-ring-ring, the robotic chime, “You have reached the voice mailbox of..." She had listened to the beep that followed and then the silence, stretching, until she remembered her mouth. It opened, exhaled, then shut abruptly with the click of her teeth. There was the clatter of keys and the thwop of a briefcase—Frank home from work.

She had almost whispered, but did not.

It was too much to have both men in the same room: one gently pecking her lips, the other pressing an electric current into her cheek, crackling. Too much, too much. Claire had slammed the phone down and cursed, “Bloody teleprompter. Always calling before dinner,” which had made her husband laugh. She’d made him spaghetti that night, the spices forming twelve digits in the saucepan no matter how many times she swirled the spoon.

It’s been four months since that first and only call, though Claire still remembers The Author’s number. She thinks of if—when—she will have the courage to call again, to finally speak and fill the space of eleven empty years. While Frank snores beside her, she plays the scene from start to finish, like a draft of the real, inevitable thing.

Again: the sonorous ring, the tinny greeting, the beep, and the silence that waits for her. But this time: her mouth opens—one, two three times—and five words repeated, again and again.

In some versions, she says them aloud. In others, merely pushes them, soundless, into the air. Still, they are there, held aloft by satellite arms high up in the sky. Somewhere between her and The Author, existing: I was born for you, I was born for you, I was born for you.

And what is said three times—even unfinished, even without words—is always, always true.

______

THREE TIMES THE WORLD ENDED , 2004

Starring Jamie Fraser, Jenny Fraser, and Laoghaire Mackenzie (and The Girl)

JAMES FRASER, age 34, can pinpoint three moments where his world fell apart.

He was eighteen during the first, a brazen thing, but still as green as the pot freshly stinking his Levi’s. After reading the call notice pasted to his door, he’d floated to the common room on a cloud of White Widow weed. He dialed, laughing, until Jenny’s voice had sobbed down the line, breaking the peace of his druggy fug.

Their father, she’d cried, had died the previous evening.

With the news, the had drugs turned. Floors slanted, limbs jellied. Jamie watched as a hole ripped open the wall behind him, its enormous black void revealing the space Brian Fraser had left behind. It had swallowed Jamie up, refused to spit him back again until The Girl reached inside and found his heart two years later. Returned it to him, like a love note, passed on the inside of her smile.

Jamie describes the second collapse in his two famous novels, A Blade of Grass and Two Centuries in Purgatory. This time, the world had split completely, Jamie and The Girl like two tectonic plates shifting in the night. It was his writing that had bound Jamie’s world together again, though the spine remained cracked, a few of the pages missing.

The third time occurred just last week though Jamie was not entirely surprised. It’s what happens, he supposes, when you build something on uneven ground. Physical presence—someone’s here-ness—does not equate to love.

Nine years after the second earthquake, a new person had come into Jamie’s life. She would stand in the doorway at 6:30PM, jump to her tip-toes to welcome him home. There would be steam from the stove, and utensils would gleam in perfect, shining order. Napkins would wait with their patient folds, each prepared to catch the food that she, his ever-present Laoghaire, had prepared during the day. And for those three years, Laoghaire’s toothbrush had sat next to Jamie’s, her silks hanging beside his cottons. Evidence, he had thought, that he maybe-almost loved her.

But then Laoghaire had grown curious—“Why’ve no made progress on yer novel? What are ye writing all day if it isna yer third book?”—and stuck her piglet nose into places it did not belong. She, in a rare moment of ingenuity, had unlocked the safe and found his letters.

And so this time, Jamie’s world had not ripped or split—but exploded with a thousand sticks of paper dynamite. Laoghaire had burned through the house, burned through the letters. She’d called the magazines and the bloggers, vowing to tarnish his reputation with lies: cheater, drunk, lunatic, fraud. Finally, she’d left, taking the napkins, the cutlery, and the toothbrush—but leaving the embers in her wake, smoldering. A few scraps had avoided the fire, and Jamie read them as the night rose.

My da once told me I’d know straight away, that I’d have no doubt. And I didn’t.

For so many years, for so long, I have been so many different men.

The love of you was my soul.

and

Yours, Jamie

Forever, Jamie

Come home, my heart. I am not as brave as I was before, Jamie

On and on and on they went. Singed pieces of his letters. Every one meant for The Girl who’d confronted his darkness, had rescued his heart at a Christmas Eve party.

4,380. One letter for every day he had missed her.

______

THE KILLING GIRL, 2006

Starring Claire Randall*, Henry Beauchamp, Julia Beauchamp, Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, Frank Randall (and The One Person)

CLAIRE RANDALL* , resident at Boston GH, was five years old when she thought she was murderer. For years, she could hardly sleep, fearing not the monster beneath her bed, but the one beneath her covers.

Instead of counting sheep, she’d recounted facts as they’d been reported in the paper: Henry and Julia Beauchamp, parents of one Claire Beauchamp. Their mangled car, and a rocky deathbed set one hundred feet below. Both husband and wife, father and mother—dead upon impact.

Rarely, did this guide Claire towards sleep, and so she began to picture the accident as she’d recorded it in her diary. The same story, but more accurate—one that played behind her eyelids as if she had watched it all, a spectator on the road’s shoulder.

There was her parents’ blue Ford ribboning the cliffside. The low hum of conversation and the static of the radio. There was Claire’s goodbye before they left—“You always go without me! IhateyouIhateyou!”— which followed her parents and pushed them off the edge. She was sure it was her words that had broken her mother’s neck, had snapped it like a flower’s stem. One Claire Beauchamp, the little killing girl.

Five years passed before Lamb had found her in the courtyard, weeping her guilt into a mat of grey feathers. She had confessed to her five-year old anger then; how she’d pried open the rocky mouth and dropped her parents in.

“Death doesn’t move according to reason, my dear,” Lamb had said, “but only chance. And by no fault of yours.” He had patted her on the head like a priest grants forgiveness, and they buried the bird in the Nyungwe Forest. Wings and Claire’s blame laid to rest beneath the trees.

Still, Claire likes how accountability sets her world—so wracked by coincidence—back on its axis. Responsibility, however false, is easier to accept than the fickleness of husbands, of dead parents, of love and life. She assumes the role of the guilty to feel a sense of control, like she herself is in charge of the scale’s tip. And so:

It was Claire’s fault that the frost returned in May, all her marigold suns snuffed out.

It was Claire’s fault that the infection took the wound, gnawed the patient’s flesh so that a saw had to chop the bone.

It was Claire’s fault that midnight voices chirped down the receiver. The girls’ lovesick pleas—I need you. I love you. Leave her.—placed in Frank’s pockets by Claire’s own hands.

And of course, it was Claire’s fault that things had ended as they did. The final fight, every bit of hate, hers to claim:

“I am not an idiot, Frank! And I’m tired of being made into one.”

“Darling, you aren’t an idiot. I never said you were an idiot.”

“Don’t bloody ‘darling’ me, you bloody cad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How novel.”

“Truly, I am.”

“So that’s it, then? Just ‘I’m sorry.’ No excuses? No begging-on-bended-knee?” (Claire had scoffed. Her laughter, like the paring knife that guts the beast.) “No, of course not. Begging would be too embarrassing for you. Too much effort. All your energy is spent chasing skirts and quick fucks. You selfish, disgusting man.”

“So I’m the only selfish one here, is that it? Just me?”

“You’re saying that I’m selfish?”

“I am.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you, Claire! You, who is always working and never here. You, who sleeps with his books under our mattress, still wears the man’s goddamn ring on a chain. Like a fucking noose around our marriage, from the start.” (Claire had winced; Frank’s knuckles had cracked the wall.) “No, I’m not selfish, Claire. I’ve shared you with another man for thirteen years.”

“So I see you’ve lost all sense, but still have some fucking nerve."

“Cursing doesn’t improve your argument.”

“Wanker.”

“Now Claire…”

“Just go.”

“Claire, please—”

“Go.”

And thus, it was Claire’s fault that Frank had whispered, “You’ve never looked at me. Not once, not really.” And it was her fault that he had grabbed his keys, slipped into the blizzard and into his car.

And it was Claire—Claire, Claire, Claire—who became the ice that hissed against tires. Who launched Frank’s body through the glass, turned his skin purple-blue and the snow dark red. Her fault that the last thing she’d said was “go”, and Frank had taken her at her very word.

All of this, she has put upon her shoulders, for its burden is lesser than the truth: that she has no control, never did and never would. Claire is forever held at the mercy of a capricious gravity—she and everyone else, a little bit helpless. Always.

But there was One Person, she often remembers, who had given her a kind of foothold. On their wedding night, she had whispered about her mother’s flower neck, about the grey bird whose wings she’d given to the Nyungwe. And he had understood, promised forgiveness for whatever wrongs she had and would commit. “Real or imagined, Sassenach” he’d said into hair, “Already forgiven.” They had spiraled through life, the pair of them, both a little bit helpless—but everything shared.

But of all of her false faults, this is one Claire fears is true: that she is the reason The One Person is not here, but some 3,000 miles away. She was, after all, the one who had packed the suitcase and caused the gavel to fall, Divorce.

All her fault: Claire Randall. The guilty one, the killing girl, the widow. Spinning and spinning into empty space, grasping at stars, alone.

*[Note from director: Ms. Claire Randall has requested we change her name to Claire Beauchamp. Please reprint with this correction ASAP. Thank you.]

______

POINT OF CONVERGENCE, 2007

Starring Jamie Fraser (The Author, The One Person), Claire Beauchamp (A More-Than-Flash Of Someone-Else, The Girl), Geordie Gibbons

JAMES FRASER does not like to disappoint. It is his greatest fear, seeing someone’s face pull, twist, and finally droop into an expression of discontent. Even worse: when the expression is given a name, “I’m so disappointed in you, Jamie.” And worst of all: when the name is given by his agent, Geordie Gibbons.

One of the most important days of Jamie’s life began in anticipation of such disappointment. He had twiddled his thumbs beneath a table, dreading the moment Geordie’s fedora ducked beneath the restaurant’s eaves. The wait staff had milled around him: A waiter dashed towards snapping fingers, the hostess offered towels for rain-soaked heads. He’d felt jealous, watching them, of their readiness—how they could be so effortlessly on time. Jamie couldn’t even manage to meet his deadlines, the desk calendar at home flipped far beyond the designated X.

Jamie and Geordie were to have “lunch” and “catch up”. This would, inadvertently, devolve into an interrogation about Jamie’s third novel, which was nothing more than a series of working titles. It was a pattern, this lateness and lunching, never changing despite the demands and promises made by both parties. Geordie would remove his hat, exposing the frown previously shadowed beneath its brim. Their food would be served—Jamie, something yeasty; Geordie, a taxidermist’s culinary experiment—and Jamie would choke down a side of his agent’s disappointment. Eventually, they would part ways, and Jamie would return home, knock out a few pages. Turn in a shitty draft the next morning for the sake of postponing a second “lunch.”

But on this day, the universe had shifted; the pattern broke. Jamie had continued to sit there, all sweat and nerves, but Geordie’s fedora, the interrogation, and the food never came.

Because while Jamie had waited in the restaurant, CLAIRE BEAUCHAMP was arguing in her bedroom mirror: Claire vs. Claire, Head vs. Heart. She was thousands of miles away in a Boston apartment, but still—the tremor traveled, pushing a storm across the Atlantic, down the Royal Mile, to Jamie. The trajectory of his day and his life had changed as Claire gesticulated wildly at her own reflection.

So at 12:14, Jamie had been alone, Geordie unusually late for a man so fond of punctuality. He read the menu three times, settled on a whisky. Thought better of it; ordered two.

At 12:30, Claire’s battle had still raged, no victor in sight. The thunder had shaken the house, shaken the mirror on the wall.

At 12:46, Jamie had condemned Geordie, then deadlines. Art, he’d fumed, was beyond time, existed outside of it. He had ordered a third whisky when a wine spill was wiped up, gone before it had the chance to leave its mark.

At 12:48, Claire had moved to the kitchen. Both armies were advancing quickly, charging into the living room, to the yard, back to the living room, over and over. She and herself, it seemed, had reached a stalemate. Head and Heart had squatted, dripping rain, and awaited the other's surrender.

At 12:50, Claire had paused and looked through the window. She caught a glimpse of her garden, reborn and thriving despite the storm, and the sight of the marigold blooms did not reveal an emptiness inside her. She felt, for once, happy. Her Heart had stormed her Head’s walls, then, the gates of decision giving way.

At 12:51, Claire had opened her scrapbook, a secret once kept from Frank. It was filled with bits and bobs: a piece of bubble wrap, a bell from her holiday sweater. Both of them glued beside old polaroids. Again, she did not feel her Heart stutter, but expand; lift straight out of her chest. A full siege after that. Her Head’s weakest men fell beneath the lash of artery whips.

At 12:52, the end was near, and Claire’s Heart marched to her computer, hunted through years of mail. Its trophy had laid buried in a folder—one message with twelve digits—and the battle, at last, was won.

At 12:53, both Jamie and his phone had buzzed. The door opened, letting in the air. It had smelled of wet soil, earthy and ripe. Familiar, like a ghost’s kiss on the back of his neck. He put the phone to his ear, and…

At 12:53:05, he said, “Jesus, man! Where are ye? I’ve been waiting nigh on 50 minutes!” There was no response.

At 12:53:08: “Did ye get caught in the storm? Are ye calling from a pay phone?” More silence.

At 12:53:13: “Hello? Anyone there?”

At 12:53:20: “Geordie, man, is that you?”

At 12:53:25: A deep, shaking breath. An audible gulp. Claire’s Heart whispering its victory song.

12:53:26: “It’s isn’t Geordie.”

12:53:27: “It’s me.”

And at 12:53:28, everywhere, suddenly—the brightest sun.

Phew! This chapter is one of the longest, but it’s also one of my favorites. The structure is lifted straight from Fates and Furies—there’s a chapter that is just a series of the protagonist’s plays—and I was looking to try something new (it also weirdly fits in with the tone of the chapter introductions). In my opinion, the best thing about writing fanfiction is that you have so much room to experiment.

This structure also allowed me to do what I’d been wanting to do from the beginning: move away from the One Day conceit and explore Jamie and Claire’s pasts. It was very easy to just run with any image or idea that came to mind—we know so little about their childhoods; there are so many possibilities!

And speaking of why fanfiction is so awesome—and I mentioned this in another post—but it’s a blast figuring out how to incorporate canon into an AU setting. Using canon dialogue can boost the emotional punch of a line in a way that is just *chef’s kiss*. “I was born for you.” “I am not as brave as I was before.” Ugh, kill me.

I have to whistle past some of the melodrama and Frank’s computer craze (wouldn’t he also be a typewriter sort of person???). And modern!Bonnie Prince Charlie’s Brazil comment still tickles me. This is not meant as an offense to Brazilians—y’all are just always on *clap* it *clap*, and I love your enthusiasm.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

#myfic #outlander #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #reunited and it feels so gooooood

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years ago

Text

YES MA’AM- REQUESTS ARENT OPEN AT THE MOMENT I HAVE SOME TO FINISH AND ILL OPEN THEM BACK UP!

Summary: he makes it up 🥸

Warnings: soft smut? Language, acting drunk to leave, a jealous Tom holland, NOT PROOF READ

A/n: SORRY THIS TOOK ME SOOO LONG, I WAS LIKE MENTALLY PANICING AND WASNT IN THE RIGHT HEAD SPACE

T.H| Oop-

“I mean am I sleeping over though? Because I didn’t get these chocolate cakes for no reason, zendaya” you eye your phone. “Yes we will have a marathon of Harry Potter” you let out a little ‘yes’ “stop cheering y/n, and Toms gonna be there” “as in...” “yes. Tom holland, impossible tom holland” “REEEEE” you and zendaya have been best friends for what felt like foreverrr, like dramatically long, you played as one of her love interests.

But you’ve had a crush on Tom holland for longer, you had him on your wall, just kidding. But everyone in your family, mostly your mom said “oh you like snow flakes?” “Interracialllllll” “alright give me my privileged babies soon” “damn I kinda took you for the Asian type” “yeah I thought you liked BTS” “UK accents is hella annoyin, find someone else” “would you stop hoggin the TV? I’m tryna watch American Top Model!” “Nah let’s watch basesketball-“ anyways, ya you have annoying, irritating family, oh well.

“You think he likes dark skinned type?” “He likes girls with aggressive tans I know that much” “that isn’t helpful” “hey I’m just being honest” she shrugged looking at you through the phone as she picked up her makeup brush. “So what are gonna do for your birthday?” “I-uhhhh probably clubbing?” “As in golf?” “No, party y/n” she glared at you as you chuckled.

“Please ask hunter when we are getting married” “y/n, I know you have an insane crush on her to but it’s just never gonna happen, she’s mine” you stuck out your tongue at her as she did the same chanting “she’s mine, she’s mine” “whatever I need to get ready” “bye papas” “bye mamas” you hung up, instantly going to your closet and pulling out the dresses you have, only to put them back and grab a two piece, it’s neon yellow, the pants are high waisted, no belt, the top stopping right below your boob, the straps at the end of your collar bone.

For accessories you put on some black dangle earrings and a black purse, a gold but matching watch, but you put on sandals, no high heels because the pants were covering your feet anyways, for your hair you put on your wet and wavy lace front, you added lip gloss to your lips, and they look like glass, in a good way of course, the fox eyeliner with thick parted eyelashes and a neon eyeshadow with it. You brushed your eyebrows up and boom your done.

You stepped back and went to your full body mirror, checking your butt and your boobs, smiling at yourself “you look fine” you sigh, grabbing your bag, phone, and keys.

You phone rung and you answered. “Yes z?” “Are you picking me up?” “Yeah sure babe, I’ll be there soon” “alright bye” she hung up. Luckily for you, you just got your 1966 mustang, vibrant white baby, everyone would wanna touch your car, you named him KAI, stands for kiss ass ight. The License plate saying “white ssn”. (I’m sorry but I really like these old kinds of cars, I fucking had to) you hoped in your car and drove to dayas home, you picked her and her brother up, just listening to old 2000’s and 1900s songs, either rapping or singing your asses off.

You guys were there pretty early but of course you were, it’s her birthday, she didn’t want to dance yet because of her makeup and you felt the same, leaving her brother smacking his lips and eyes glued to his phone.

Now everyone was starting to come, hunter, Jacob, alexia, Barbie, everyone, and most importantly, Thomas Stanley holland. No cap you bout dead as fuck, did I mention you run on Red Bull’s? Just kidding. You remained calm, hugging hunter and talking to her. “Hey” zendaya said, grabbing your hand and pulling you up, pulling you to Tom. “Hi Thomas, this is y/n” “the one and only?” He laughed, making you both giggle. “Yeah” she nodded, Tom got up, opening his arms and she pinched you, silently telling you to hug him. And you did, taking a breath you smelled him, he smelled really good, sexy and musky, like something you’d want to smell all day.

“You smell nice” Tom whispered. “Yeah you too” you smiled, pulling back from his hands as he nodded at you and sat back down, you looked and zendaya as she silently cheered, you walked back over to hunter and ordered something to drink. “So you and Tom?” She asked, you only rolled your eyes. “You know I’ve had a crush on him for years now but I don’t think I’ll be making any progress” you thanked the person as they handed you the cheerily temple. “Whattt? This is your chance to get drunk and confess your feelings, like wake up in the morning with him” you smacked your lips at her “girl I don’t know, and I wouldn’t want him to forget what happend” you shrugged. She put her hand on your shoulder making you look at her “take a shot, before zendaya pressures the fuck out of you both” she warns, making you sigh and throw yourself back in the seat.

“I know and that’s the problem, I don’t think-“ “you’ve had a crush in him for years y/n, you can make this a reality, you don’t have to dream anymore” zendaya whispered in your ear “I told you” hunter smiled. “Fuck stop smiling at me like that, you’re gonna make me fall in love all over again” you said making them both laugh. “Okay Cupid what’s your plan?” “Don’t worry bout it alright girl?” “Alright”

“Harrison fuck off it’ll happen when it happens” “well it seems like she’s bored, I’ll go entertain her” “don’t you fuckin dare haz, I’ll beat the shit out of you” instead of haz getting up Harry did, he walked over to you and sat down next to you, the lights and music booming as he took out his camera. “Hey” he smiled at you. “Hi, I’m-“ “y/n, yeah I know, I’m Toms brother, Harry” he held out his hand and you took it. “I thought you looked really beautiful- I was just wondering if you wanted to take a few pictures?” “Oh I’m not the picture type” “pleaseee?” He beggged, you giggled and nodded. “Alright” he took a few pictures of you as Tom stared at you.

“He’s tottaly gonna get instead of you” Harrison whispered in his ear, making Thomas slap his arm “shut up div, I’m just gonna wait here and I’ll see what happens” he told haz his game plan, no progress. Zendaya walked over “I know you like y/n, please hit on her, you both would look so good together, you’d bring me smoll Bebes-“ “Jesus zendaya we get it” Tom rolls his eyes as haz lets out distant chuckles.

“This is so awkward, he doesn’t like me and-“ you sighed. “Oh my god, you never give up so easily y/n, what’s wrong you’ve liked him since preteens” hunter asked in all seriousness. “Are you talking about Tom?” Harry asks, both of you looking at him and letting out a way to fast “no” leaving Harry in giggles. “Well I wish I could help you but I don’t know anything” he shrugs, you soon see Tom make his way over to you, standing infront of you. He clears his throat to say something big but only lets out an-

“Hey” you wave back at him, hunter silently cringing, feeling the tension able to cut it with a butter knife. “Your so fücked” Harry laughed, Tom glaring at him but smiling back at you. “Uhm, how’s your day?” “To be honest I’m having a bit of anxiety right know” you both laughed “me too, yeah” he nods his head. “Look you don’t have to really speak to me if you don’t want to” you laughed “I think we both know-“ “zendaya” you both said. Hunter looked at Harry, panicking for you as you remained calm. “Okay- yeah- thanks” he smiled, as you returned, he walked off.

“You fucked up” “well what was I supposed to do Harry? Suck his dick?-“ “it would’ve made some progress” “shut up hunter” “I feel awkward for you” “second hand emarrassment hunter” “well you knew what I meant Harry so we are all good” you looked at them both “I’m fucked” they just both agree with you. “I think I’m gonna go” “then I’m coming!” Hunter said. “How are you gonna leave zendaya?” You only picked up his beer can, winking at him and hunter ‘helped’ you out.

“Woah woah woah where are you two going?” Zendaya asked, the shit in her hand as she looked confused. “She’s drunk” “whattttt no I’m nottt” zendaya looked at you as your eyes were barely opened, taking your finger and pushing it against hunters lips dramatically. “Let me tell yaa E sevret” you whispered at zendaya, you came close to her ear, “I’m so naw dunk” “you drunk, get out of here, Tom will give me a ride” zendaya waved you both off, Harry soon running up “let me get your number at least, yeah?” “Sureeeee” you wink at him, he hands you a pen and you write your number, a nice happy face next to it.

“Let’s get you home, nice show you out on” you took your time, trying to look drunk as possible. “My whole life is madness! I can’t- he doesn’t like me I promise you” you say, pulling out of the parking lot, hunter right next to you. “He does, let’s bet on it” “how much?” “200” “shake on it?” She handed you her hand and you shook it. “SOMETIMES YOU LAUGH SOMETIMES YOU CRY I GUESS YOU KNOW NOWWW, I TOOK THE HALF AND SHE TOOK THE WHOLE THING SLOW DOWNN” you both sung together “BABY” you both both failed the note, laughing together as you rode both of you home.

“She left” zendaya shruged, “what why?” “Shes black out drunk” Tom put his eyebrows together, he was litterally with you like a couple minutes ago, sober as hell. “Yeah... alright” he nodded, Harry took out his phone and sent you a simple hey, which you returned under a minute later.

Everyone had a lot of fun, you and hunter ordering some random stuff off of Amazon and making the cake that you would both send to zendaya the next day, on the other side everyone danced and drank, they were sober enough to go eat at least. “Who are you texting?” Tom asked Harry. “Y/n, she’s showing me the things that she’s ordering or something like that, I wonder why she’s a Harry Potter addict” toms jaw slightly clenched, “can I see?” He asked, Harry looked at him, forgetting that you’re supposed to be ‘drunk’ “Nah mate, she’s drunk texting me though” “bulshit, give me the phone” Harry sighed as he gave tom the phone, scrolling through the text messages the messages were alive, not dead at all, no lols, laughing emojis, more ‘lmao’ ‘AKDIHDIHFRJRFN-‘ ‘I- what? Okay-‘ he couldn’t help but be jealous, he handed Harry back the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking at Tom confused. “You know I like her” “it didn’t seem like it back there” Harry smirked. “Do you like her?” Tom asked, Harry only shook his head “all for you, just making conversation and trying to pull her closer” “whattt Harry got the digits and you didn’t?” Haz whispered, “fuck off”

“But this is like, really ugly” “that’s why it’s called an ugly Christmas sweater, y/n” you layer on her arm, looking at Kohl’s, “green for sure, red is just plain” “how about we get like onzies of animals or the incredibles” hunter looked at you “perfect, yeah” you nod ferociously.

You checked your phone and saw some messages, from you dad and you mom but also Harry, you were quick to answer them all, and as the night got old you had finished the cake.

“I don’t know mate do some research on her, watch her interviews” haz suggests as they were all home, Tom mentally panicking because Harry’s eyes was glued to his phone, he whipped out his computer and searched your name, ‘Y/N has a CRUSH on who?’ He bit his lip and clicked it

“Sooo, we know your the romantic type- so who were you in love with?” The interviewer said, you smiled and shook your head. “I’ve always had a crush on Evan peters, algee smith from let it shine, Keith powers, and of course Tom holland, I don’t know but just in all his movies he was the cutest thing” you giggled, putting a leg over the other. “That’s a lot of people” “hey, I only crush on one now, and yes it’s Tom holland” the girl raised her eyebrows at the camera “you make sure you hit her up” “please do” you wink at the camera, “now, you feel sexy most when?” “Probably when I take a shower and put on my silk robe” you shrugged.

“Silk? Sexy” Tom smiled to himself, imagining you in it, maybe a towel over your freshly washed hair, lingerie under, maybe a mustard yellow to match your skin, his eyes widened in shock as he felt uncomfterble in his pants, he looked down at his pants “fuck, not now!”

“Are you really crying?” Hunter asked. “No I’m having an emotional roller coaster” “so your feeling different emotions, your so bipolar” hunter laughs, “your not helping you know” she only shrugged at you, then the door was knocked on “I’ll go get it” “alright” you acted sleep, thinking that it was probably zendaya and... you were right. “Hey is she sleep?” She asked, hugging hunter. “yeah, but come in- she’s on the couch” hunter smiled, hearing zendayas foot steps and she giggled “she’s sober by now” she bent down, wiggling your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hiiiii” she waved at you, you only waved back, then she laid down next to you, her glasses on and in her sweatpants and a black t-shirt. “So you and Tom didn’t work huh?” She whispered and you only shook your head no, a tear fell down your cheek as she coed at you, wiping it away. “He’s stupid, he will come around one day yeah?” You nodded at her, “did you make the cake?” She asked and you nodded again. “Let me show you, come here” hunter said, she looked at you, you looked pretty lifeless at the moment honestly. Hunter and zendaya left and you checked your phone.

Ding

Your eyebrows furrowed at the anonymous message. You opened it and it said-

Hey it’s Tom, I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch yeah?

You texted him back-

As In... Tom holland orrrr...

Tom smiled at his phone

Yes y/n, Tom holland here, take it while you can

Cocky asshat

He laughed at your reply sending winking emojis,

Yeah lunch, I’ll see what I can do

Cya love

Bye luv

As time passed Tom looked at your work, your charity events, your women’s rights, your debates, your everything. He grew more interest then he already did, already wishing to work with you. “Hamburgers? What if she’s vegan, fuck” he only searched up what food you like, “burrito truck?” He could tell you weren’t like the other people with loaded of money, you were more of the cheap rich, not a bad thing but a very good one. “Sparkling water? That doesn’t really go with burritos, she doesn’t like cheese by it’s self or where you can taste it over anything, she sticks to the basics, god I need a pen and paper for this” “I got it, lover boy” Harry says, throwing it at him.

“Hey your the one who’s trying to take her away from me” “no that’s not true, I was trying to help you actually, her favorite color is (y/f/c) she likes nature or a big view of the city, beach sometimes, she actually wants a beach house” he shrugged, Tom smiled and thanked him, writing some things down

-nature, somewhere green for lunch

-quiet too, somewhere not to public

-sparkling water for sure, no burritos though

“Shit I don’t know, chicken or something!” Tom struggled.

-fruits, nuts, macoroons, nuts, wine

He smiled at the ugly written bullet points, “aha” he then took his phone, biting his lips as he tried to find the perfect place.

“He asked me to lunch last night” you smiled, hunter and zendaya looked at each other, mouths agape as they laughed. “Really? Oh my god y/n can I be the god mom?” “Oh I’ll be the god dad all the way!” Hunter added as you laughed and shook your head, you’ve been on a Harry Potter marathon all night, now your on a Star Wars one, so many tears fell of your face, you cried for draco, zendaya cried for George and Fred, hunter cheered on voldermort, which almost got her kicked out, how petty.

“What if it’s only lunch?” You asked, looking at hunter and zendaya. “I mean, yeah it is only lunch” hunter shrugged making zendaya slap her arm. “No it isn’t, you are probably gonna get laid and he’s gonna confess his love to youuu, then you both naked and kissing” “ew don’t make me imagine that” hunter shuddered, sticking out her tongue. “Welp we are staying here when you leave” “how do you know I won’t be back?” “Because I know things”

Tom spent his day visiting places, until he found the perfect one, green and the ocean? Best thing ever. It was pretty too, no plastic, no damage to the ground, the ocean is to be heard, perfect for you and Tom. He texted you to get ready, it was about 6, he bought everything he needed for it, put the ice cream in the cooler with ice in it.

“Alright, this one” hunter held up a dress, a small slit but it was a sweater dress, like for the fall or winter, it’s white with brown buttons that go down to the end of your stomach, the dress stops in the middle of your thighs. “Then wear some comfterble shoes please, we don’t want you to run your toes” zendaya said, pulling out some neon yellow huaraches. “That doesn’t match” hunter said, zendaya put the shoes back and pulled out some dark dark black ones.

You got dressed, comfterble for sure, zendaya flat ironed your hair while hunter did your makeup, “alright” zendaya and hunter admired their art, high giving each other before turning you to the mirror, “don’t worry it’s sweat resistant” hunter said, zendaya laughed as you rolled your eyes shaking your head. Then of course their was a knock on your door. “I’ll get it” zendaya said, you went to your room and grabbed your phone, noticing you have no pockets you held it. “Keep your hands off of my girlfriend, have fun though!” Zendaya said, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you came out and seen everyone smiling at you

“What happened?” You asked as everyone shook their head. “Nothing!” Hunter said smiling at you, Tom came up and gave you flowers, not roses but daises “you look lovely” he says, giving you a hug, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, not in a Percy way of course, just a very friendly and close hug. “Can you put these in a vase for me?” You say, handing the flowers to hunter as she only smiled and made her way to the kitchen. “Have fun, once again, we want her back by 10” “that’s only 4 hours zendaya” “we’ll make your way over there, it’s starting to become late” “alright mother, we’re out” you sarcastically say, leaving Tom laughing as he takes your hand and pulls you to his-

“El Camino!?” You said, practicly smiling a a child when they get ice cream. “Yep, I know how much you like old cars so why not get you one right?” He squeezed your hand. “Oh I could so kiss you right now!” “I wanna save it for later, let’s go” he smiled at you, he pulled you to your seat and opened the door for you, you sat down and he closed it, running to his side and getting in. “Your pretty fast” “shut up” he laughed and started the car, Kendrick Lamar playing in the background as you both rode in the city.

It was silent but comfterble, you slipped your phone in the cup holder, played footsie with yourself, and almost shook when he placed his hand on your thigh, you looked at him and he smiled at you “warm” he only said, paying attention to the road, rocking his hand back and forth.

“I love this, you gave me all the things I love tonight” you smiled. “You now at the birthday party I didn’t show that I liked you” he commented, laying in his stomach ontop of the very large blanket as you sat with your legs closed. “Yeah I don’t think you like me... I know if it’s weird and-“ “what no I like you! I do! I’m just stupid, like zendaya would say, so” you both giggled as he sat up and grabbed a grape vine, it has grapes on it by the way. “Lay down” he smiled, and you followed, laying down. “I’ve seen all the work you’ve done” he smiled, the radio in the band Toto playing, Africa currently playing. He leaned down the grape and feed it to you and you chuckled. “I really like how dedicated you are, how hard working you are, how nice you are, everything about you is beautiful” he complemented, the moon popping out for the ocean, the sounds of water slapping the rocks calming the both of you.

“Well thank you” you say, done with the grapes he fed you, he fed you some more. “I bought ice cream” “what kind?” “Uhmmmm, not vanilla, cookies and cream!” “Doesn’t that have vanilla in it?” You looked at him, he shrugged and put the grapes down and took the ice cream out of the freezer “I didn’t know you were such a 80s fan, what would you bring back?” He asked you. “Probably all the color, the music, I love mullets and shags I just love it all, how everything was in fashion, freedom and dumb teenagers and yelling old people, ya know?” “So your a very detailed person?” “Yeah, I don’t pay attention to the big picture that much if I’m being honest” ‘it never rains in Southern California, by tony’ playing, now the moon full on display, he grabbed two spoons and handed it to you, you both grabbed a scoop. “Let’s try something”

“Like what?” “Cross my arm with yours yeah?” You wrapped your arm around his, your spoon facing you “and 3” he said, taking the ice cream in his mouth as you followed, giggling “I like the flavor” you covered your mouth. “See! I knew what I was talking about, and doing!” He cheered, you both laid side by side and looked at the view, still eating the ice cream of course, until he put his lips on yours. “I really like you y/n, I hope-“ you put your lips on his, holding onto his cheek you smiled into it, he made his hand go down to hold onto your waist, the moon shining on both of you, he flipped both of you over so he was on top, you let out a quiet moan as he kissed your neck and slipped up you dress, taking off your panties, you trailed your hands down to the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, rubbing over his torso, moaning as he found your sweet spot, kissing it and sucking harsh circles on your neck, he sat up and helped you take of his shirt, unbuckling his pants and taking off the belt to where ever.

He unbuttoned your dress, taking out your breasts and sucking on one of them, you whimpered as he twisted the other, your hands making it to his hair and tugging a bit making him hum in satisfaction. He switched nipples and looked up at you, you head was thrown back, breathing heavy and he opened your legs, you bucked your hips up allowed him to pull your dress up and over your head, he ditched his pants, well not really, there still around his ankles and both of your shoes are off, how? I don’t know. He came up and you leaned on your arm while the other was on his cheek, your lips hovering his, he muttered a ‘ready’ you nodded and he bottomed out in you, both moaning at the sensation, he kissed you and rocked his hips, you moaned as his hands found your waist, holding onto his bicep for support. Soft moans shared “y/n, fuck your so tight” he whispered in your neck and you whimpered, clawing his arm as he went harder, still slow though,

“Tommy, I’m gonna-“ you swallowed, bucking your hips up and arching your back, he rubbed your hips and held on tighter to them. He groaned and started going fast, high pitched moans leaving your lips as he stopped going hard, “cum for me” he let one hip go and rubbed your pearl slowly. “God- mm” you bit your lip trapping the moans, your head tilting back as he used it to suck more hickies on you, claiming you as you just took it all in, your head slowly starting coming up, leaving cries as your arm circled his around his arm, your back arching more, connecting chests as you said his name like a prayer while you came “fuck fuck fuck” he moaned, so close, your walls to warm to leave. “You on the pill?” He choked out. You repeated ‘mhm’ and just like that he came inside you, your name left his mouth as he rode out both of your highs, breathing heavy as a new song played ‘ask of you’ by Raphael, you both chuckled as he pressed his forehead on yours.

“Would you be my-“ “I think you know the answer Thomas, this is my 12 dream right here” you giggled. He pulled out and rolled over next to you, taking his arm and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest “your moans are adorable, we have to have sex more often” you only laughed at him, coming up to kiss his neck on his sweet spot, his jawline under his ear, sucking hickies on his neck as he looked at the water that the moon is glistening on. You both cleaned up with his baby wipes and covered yourselves with the extra blanket he had, he poured you both a glass on wine too, just taking each other in and the perfect view.

On the other side zendaya and hunter were high giving each other, FaceTiming Harry and saying “we got em!” He smiled and cheered, lifting his beer with Harrison and taking a sip. They set it all up, how? Who knows.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #zendaya #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #jb writes

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine:

Erik getting the readers hair wet after she spent all day in the salon getting it done and she flips out on him.

You went over two years without getting your hair silk pressed but today was the day you and Erik had a scheduled “early 2000’s” photo shoot so you wanted to switch things up. Your hair was almost waist length and you knew it would cost you a pretty penny to get all of that thick 4A hair pressed out.

What you hadn’t expected was for the process to take almost four hours. Clearly, relying on friends to do your hair wasn’t a good idea. Your appointment was scheduled for 9:00 am but as soon as you got there the salon was backed up and it seemed like every woman with natural hair wanted a silk press today. The shit was ridiculous. You waited for about an hour before a booth was actually ready for you. This didn’t include having to get your hair washed and detangled, deep conditioned, steamed, then blown out, and then silk pressed. All of this cost you around $100.

You were finally finished around 3:15 pm, cranky but in love with your silky hair. It was trimmed, shiny, and soft. You allowed your stylist friend to take a few pictures for social media, saying ‘thank you’ to all the women who envied you’re hair. Your 4A hair was actually waist length. Erik wouldn’t know how to control himself once he saw you like this.

Erik: Y/N, where are you? I’m stopping by chic-fil-A to get us something to eat. What you want?

This was Erik’s text to you.

Y/N: crispy chicken deluxe with waffle fries and a lemonade.

Erik: Aight greedy I got you 🙄

Y/N: thank you meany 😘

Erik: You didn’t answer my question though. Where are you?

Y/N: leaving the salon. Remember I told you I’m getting it done today?

Erik: Shit 😂 I forgot that fast. I can’t wait to see it 😏

Y/N: I bet you can’t. I know what you’re thinking.

Erik: I’m glad you know.

—————————-

Finally home, you pulled out your 2000s outfit. Playboy bunny crop top in pink, pleated plaid skirt colored pink, white, and black, silver rhinestone shades, lip gloss, and a pair of air force 1s.

You needed a quick shower before the shoot and Erik was close. Stripping down, you wrapped your hair, securing it with a few scarves to insure that it doesn’t get wet or frizz up. You enter the bathroom, turning on the shower before entering carefully, pulling the curtain closed behind you. While you washed your body, Erik enters the house, dressed in a clean suit from work at the Outreach, his work bag and both of your food. After placing the food in the kitchen, Erik walks to the bedroom, taking off his bag, shoes, and suit jacket.

Erik: Y/N? You in the shower baby without me?

He could smell the peppermint Castile soap you used frequently. Erik took off his shirt, walking to the master bathroom. He spots you through the glass door, cleaning off your beautiful body. He admired you with lust, more than ready to bend you over the tub and fuck you. Without warning, Erik walls up to the shower, opening the door and wrapping a hand around your waist. You squeal in surprise, soaking wet body pressed against him.

Erik: you taking showers without me, babe?

Y/N: I’m sorry you were taking too long.

Erik: I told you I was close baby girl.

Erik runs his hands all over your ass, titties, and pussy. You moan, hands on the shower wall while he touched you all over.

Erik: bend over baby girl.

Y/N: Erik, wait until I get out, okay?

Erik: I can’t baby I need some pussy.

You suck your teeth, Erik’s lips against your ear while he whispered to you. You loved it when he did that. Erik bends you over, his hand spreading your pussy open to put his fingers inside of you. He put three in there. You gasp, arching back against him while he finger fucked you from the back.

Y/N: oooo Daddy

You made sure your head was away from the shower, moaning deliciously while his fingers got you wet.

Erik: you want Daddy to buss it open?

Y/N: fuck yes

You couldn’t help it he had you fully horny now.

Y/N: hurry up daddy we gotta go to the photo shoot.

Erik pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them before pulling his pants down, kicking them off. His dick was standing at attention, his left hand stroking it while his right hand was on your hips. He slowly enters you, both of you sighing in unison as he started pumping his hips. The sight of your wet booty and warm skin made his dick even harder. The sight of you creaming his dick made him increase his pace, fucking you with you body bent over until your hands were touching the floor of the shower. He was going ape shit inside of you and now was the time to panic. When Erik went Killmonger in the pussy you had to hold on for the ride and pray that you would still be able to walk afterwards.

Erik: This pussy always cream on Daddy’s dick.

He slaps your wet ass causing it to sting.

The more he fucked you, the more your mind became fuzzy. Everything else didn’t matter and clearly your hair included. While Erik fucked your brains out you slipped, head falling directly under the water. You scream, Erik still fucking into you at a rapid delicious pace.

Y/N: ERIK! MY HAIR!!!!!

You try your best to touch it but erik was fucking your pussy so good you couldn’t even function.

Y/N: ERIK! *moans* IM GONNA KILL YOU!

Erik: shut up and cum on this daddy dick!!!!

You claw his arm, ready to fucking cuss him out but the moment the head of his dick stroked your g spot you lost your mind. You cum all over him, Erik still going. Your scarf was off, silk pressed hair curling back up from the large amount of water. All of that hard work, all that money, down the drain.

Y/N: ERIK! Erik I swear to God I’m gonna kill you!!!! *moans*

Erik: *grabs wet hair* WHOSE KILLING WHO THOUGH?

He was non stop. You looked back at him with a glare, hands pressed to the wet wall while he stroked your pussy. It was so good you wanted to cry. He had the fucking nerve. Your hair was completely ruined now and all he wants to do is fuck the shit out of you.

Y/N: BABY IM SO MAD AT YOU!!!

You were but damn.

Erik got some good dick.

Erik: I’m so sorry baby girl, Daddy sorry *strokes faster*

He said that very loosely. You groan with a mixture of anger and pleasure, eyes low and the feeling of yet another orgasm creeping up.

Y/N: FUCK YOU!!!!

You cum again, ready to be through so you could punch him in the chest for this but he had a firm grip on you, pumping his dick in and out until the feeling of him swelling stretched your walls. You moan with him, his nails deep in your skin as he cums all inside of you and deep.

Erik slips out, his cum dripping down your leg. The minute he was out you turned to him, face frowning. Erik admired the curly hair, unable to fight a laugh.

Erik: Baby girl don’t be mad at me, I didn’t mean to

Y/N: I spent Damn near four hours in the fucking salon, Erik, four. This shit cost me $100 to get it done!!!!! You don’t care all you cared about was getting some pussy.

Erik: how man times do you want me to say I’m sorry?!! If you want I can pay for the shit again. Damn, my bad.

Y/N: I’m not going to this photo shoot.

You step out of the shower, practically running out of the bathroom. Erik follows behind you, calling out to you.

Erik: *laughs* Baby, I’m sorry.

He gets down on his knees, looking up at your naked frame while you angrily throw your clothes back into the closet.

Erik: you can wear it curly. It looks better curly anyway baby.

Y/N: that’s not the fucking point.

Erik: what you want me to do? You want me to do your hair for you? I can put it in those two buns with some butterfly clips.

You look over at him, scowling. He pouted, hands up in prayer hoping you wouldn’t be mad anymore.

Y/N: Stop doing that. I’m not falling for that shit again. I’m pissed the fuck off.

Erik: I love you.

You roll your eyes. Erik pulls you over to him, holding you against his chest. He smelled good and felt good. You wanted to be so mad at him but the was Erik. He was annoying and aggravating but you couldn’t stay mad at him forever.

Y/N: You get on my fucking nerves.

He laughs because he knew when you said that you weren’t mad anymore.

Erik: Is that your way of telling me you love me?

Y/N: You know I love you.

You did no matter how much of a handful his is.

Erik: listen, I’ll pay for your hair, nails, and those Louis Vuitton slippers you wanted. How about that diamond choker? I can get you one of those too.

He always tried to make it up to you.

Y/N: how about all of it? I mean, I think I deserve that much.

Erik: You do, *kisses neck* I got you baby girl.

You groan, melting from his kisses.

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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tabloidtoc · 4 years ago

Text

Globe, November 30

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: The palace lured Princess Diana into death trap

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Sienna Miller shooting Anatomy of a Scandal, former soap star Wanda De Jesus and longtime partner Jimmy Smits take a walk in Brentwood, Mama June Shannon gambles on plastic surgery

Page 3: Billy Dee Williams may walk with a cane but he doesn’t let that stop him from taking the wheel in West Hollywood, Joey Fatone at the Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival, Ariel Winter lugs around a massive roll of bubble wrap in L.A.

Page 4: Courageous Al Roker has battled health problems for years and now his new devastating prostate cancer diagnosis seals his rep as the unluckiest man on TV

* Patrick Duffy and Linda Purl are proof that love can be just as wonderful in your golden years and now pals predict their whirlwind romance will lead them to an elopement -- the former Dallas star was heartbroken after his wife of 43 years died of cancer in 2017 but Happy Days alum Linda brought joy back into his life -- the greying sweethearts plan to spend the holidays with both their families and then go house hunting for their own place

Page 5: Kanye West thinks he’s so smart and wonderful and creative he’s showering bucks on a project to make a posse of his own personal mini-mes and he sees his clones as his gift to the world claiming it’s his duty to keep himself on the planet at all costs long after he’s gone so death doesn’t have to be the end of Kanye -- Kanye’s wife Kim Kardashian has given Kanye permission to double down on himself -- he’s also fascinated by cryogenics and no one would be surprised if he arranges to have himself stored in a chamber when he dies so he can be revived years later

Page 6: Britney Spears is having another family feud because she wants her dad Jamie Spears suspended immediately from his role as co-conservator of her estate claiming he installed a new business manager to run her $60 million fortune without consulting his daughter in what she brands a blatant attempt to get full functional control of her assets and books and records in the face of Britney’s objections

* Ryan Seacrest is turning into a bloated recluse as career and personal problems have worried pals thinking about an intervention -- he’s so devastated by his breakup with Shayna Taylor and the end of cash cow Keeping Up with the Kardashians that he’s shutting himself away for days on end and ignoring calls from friends and co-workers and only responding to texts and he’s stuffing his face with junk food and sloppy takeout and pizzas and he’s come close to belching on camera a few times

Page 7: Devastated widow Paulina Porizkova who her bitter husband Ric Ocasek cut out of his will even though she took care of him in his final days suffered a shocking collapse -- she had gone to Costa Rica with her sons for a change of scenery following the death of Ric who was divorcing her -- she says she had a total nervous breakdown in the airport and they had to put her in a wheelchair to take her back to the plane

* Abby Lee Miller is learning to walking again -- the former Dance Moms star had been using a wheelchair after undergoing chemo for Burkitt lymphoma and having life-saving spinal surgery but she’s now cancer-free and recently underwent an elective operation to help regain mobility -- even though Lifetime canned her plan spinoff Abby’s Virtual Dance Off over charges she’s racist she claims to have a scripted show and two reality series in the works

Page 8: Mike Tyson says he once used a prosthetic penis loaded with his infant son’s pee to pass a drug test during his hard-hitting heyday in the ring and although he swears he never took performance-enhancing drugs he has been blunt about his history of toking weed and snorting cocaine

* Pioneer Woman Ree Drummond reveals she has a foster son named Jamar -- Ree who has four children explains she couldn’t talk about Jamar until he turned 18 and state agency restrictions no longer applied

Page 9: Beloved Jeopardy! host Alex Trebek went to his grave harboring a bitter grudge against talk star and game show rival Regis Philbin -- Alex and Regis began their feud in 2000 when Alex slammed Regis’ Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? as a game show for dummies and Regis was deeply hurt by the dig and shot back that face to face if Alex says anything about Millionaire he’d just look him in the eye and say is that your final answer, Alex?

Page 10: Inside the modern Mafia -- blogs and blunders and killer cops

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Adam Brody shows off his bod in Malibu (picture), Lamar Odom was seemingly back on a marriage track to wed fitness instructor Sabrina Parr next year but Lamar’s engagement was abruptly called off amid ominous sparks of ongoing trouble for the athlete and Sabrina sad she’s no longer able to be by Lamar’s side while he seeks the help he so desperately needs, Mina Starsiak of Good Bones wants a postpartum tummy tuck pronto, things got bristlier than an old broom for Anne Hathaway groveling her way out of massive fan backlash for her appearance on The Witches remake for the insensitive way she portrayed a three-fingered witch with split hands, behind the scenes at The Tonight Show where Jimmy Fallon recently extended his lucrative contract to host the struggling late-night talk show past 2021 but his head writer Rebecca Drysdale lasted six months of butting heads with Jimmy and his cronies before getting dumped

Page 13: Katie Holmes and boyfriend Emilio Vitolo Jr. (picture), Sean Stewart in a leg cast in Beverly Hills (picture), Busy Philipps puts on lip gloss on the NYC set of Girls5Eva (picture)

Page 14: Dave Grohl got scared stiff recording an upcoming album in an eerie L.A. home reportedly rocking with paranormal activity and when he got nosy about the place’s past he apparently got answers from the landlord along with an NDA form meant to keep him from spilling secrets, RHOBH star Kyle Richards’ half-sister Kathy Hilton is joining the show; socialite Kathy cold-shouldered Kyle and her husband Mauricio Umansky when he left her husband Rick Hilton’s real estate company to launch a rival biz

* Fashion Verdict -- Jana Kramer 7/10, Michelle Dockery 4/10, Gretta Monahan 3/10, Charlize Theron 2/10

Page 16: Ailing pop star Phil Collins is being so publicly humiliated by his two-timing ex-wife Orianne Cevey who dashed his dreams of a permanent reunion by secretly marrying another guy pals now fear for his life -- Phil is currently battling Orianne in court over his $38.6 million waterside Miami mansion which she and new husband Thomas Bates have now agreed to vacate but Orianne is demanding half of the home insisting Phil promised her a 50 percent share when they moved into it in 2016 -- Orianne also claims that Phil became a hopeless addict in 2017 hooked on booze and pain pills and after two years of drug hell he was incapable of having sex and he stopped showering and brushing his teeth and had become a hermit

Page 17: Troubled Jonathan Rhys Meyers crashed his car in Malibu and failed a field sobriety test and was slapped with a misdemeanor DUI

* Teresa Giudice has found new love with business man Louie Ruelas just two months after divorcing deported jailbird Joe Giudice -- the Real Housewives of New Jersey star who has four girls with Joe hooked up with the dad of two and digital marketing whiz and both are very happy

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About David Giuntoli

* Sophia Loren says early in her career she told a director to buzz off when he suggested she surgically alter her nose -- she recalls telling the meddling moviemakers her nose is going to stay there forever and it has a lot of personality

* Parkinson’s patient Michael J. Fox admits he may be forced to say goodbye to Hollywood because his short-term memory is shot and acting is getting tougher to do

Page 20: True Crime

Page 21: Desperate to salvage his tarnished reputation and career Johnny Depp is hoping to hook up with another Hollywood outcast in former co-star Angelina Jolie -- Johnny and Angie first flirted while filming The Tourist in 2010 but at the time Johnny was with Vanessa Paradis and Angie was with Brad Pitt -- Johnny recently reached out to Angie to jumpstart their friendship and he’s been sending her poems written with her in mind and suggestions for book to read and music to listen to and they’ve exchanged a series of emails and texts and talk on the phone quite a bit so Johnny has hope to win her heart and they’re making plans to meet in L.A. very soon but the ball is in Angie’s court and she’s open to having a little fun but don’t count on anything getting too serious

* Johnny Depp’s career has taken another hit as he’s been axed from the Fantastic Beasts film franchise after a British court determined he beat ex-wife Amber Heard at least a dozen times

Page 24: Cover Story -- Princess Diana was lured to her death by a twisted dirty tricks campaign orchestrated by the palace -- acting at the direction of Queen Elizabeth’s hard-case husband Prince Philip British intelligence officers mounted a clever operation to drive Prince Charles’ emotionally fragile wife to the breaking point and they knew she was frantic and suicidal and vulnerable and played on her worst fears -- Diana’s own brother Charles Spencer has also broken a 25-year silence to expose a plot against the People’s Princess and he reveals forged documents and a whisper campaign hinting at treacherous betrayals fueled her paranoia and desperation and despair and pushed her into a decision that ultimately cost her life

Page 26: Health Report

Page 30: Rock legend Jerry Lee Lewis vowed to keep wailing ‘til the end but the 85-year-old stroke victim now spends his days listening to his old hits and staring out the window and his health has taken a tragic turn for the worse since he was clobbered by the stroke last year -- he’s hunched over and seems confused and he’s forgetful and can’t remember some of the lyrics to his oldest hits; he tries to play the piano and just can’t because his hands are so stiff and don’t move the way he wants them to

* Mel B claims she’ll go bankrupt if a judge doesn’t lower the $500,000 she’s been ordered to pay her ex-husband and if the sum isn’t modified she will in all likelihood have to file for bankruptcy -- Mel and ex Stephen Belafonte divorced three years ago and have been slugging it out in court ever since

Page 44: Straight Talk -- lifestyle queen bees Martha Stewart and Gwyneth Paltrow are at each other’s throats but their furious feud is hard to understand because they’re not really in the same business -- Martha is the ultimate homemaker peddling recipes and furnishings and decorating tips while Gwyneth’s New Age-style Goop website is a sleazy sex shop with items normally found in tacky joints along West Hollywood’s sleazy Santa Monica Boulevard

Page 45: Sinead O’Connor is taking a break to enter a one-year trauma and addiction treatment program after losing a loved one and she admits she’s been addicted to weed for 34 years but became briefly addicted to another drug following her loss

* Sean Connery’s wealthy widow Micheline Roquebrune could end up behind bars and fined a whopping $28 million if convicted of stiffing the Spanish taxman -- the tax-cheat case spans back to 1999 when Sean sold their Marbella mansion on the glitzy Costa del Sol; Connery’s lawyer and the mayor of Marbella and six other elected officials were jailed over a tax-cheat scam involving the property but in 2014 Sean was told he wouldn’t be prosecuted but now Spanish bigwigs say the case has not gone away and want to indict his widow for tax fraud

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