#everybody knows how to wear good goddamn pants | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xoxoladyaz · 1 year ago

Text

*trips and 2K words fall out - hope I did right by you @piratefishmama *

Link to Part 2!

Steve Harrington didn’t get flustered.

Like, ever.

Call it dedication to his work, call it “a sign of growth” (Nancy’s words), call it “being-a-reformed-manwhore” (Robin’s words), but Steve knew how to keep his head and stay calm even in the tensest of situations.

He hadn’t always been this way; the Steve of old, i.e. the Steve from Hawkins High School, had been a notorious ass-kisser, using his wiles and charms to get whatever he wanted from whomever he wanted. (A coping mechanism ingrained in him at a young age due to ill-attentive parents and stemming from his own feelings of self-hatred and lack of worth, according to his therapist Cindy. She was brutal but man, she always hit the nail on the head.) But somewhere along the line – falling in love with Nancy, being dumped by Nancy, and then meeting a clumsy redhead named Robin during his second week of paramedic training – he’d learned that he didn’t have to put on a façade to make people care or love him; being Steve was enough, and when he realized that? Game changer. Ten years removed from high school and he really, truly loved his life in a way that he’d never imagined he would as a douchey-seventeen-year-old.

Did he still turn on the charm with people? Of course. But it was never because he was using someone else. It was because he wanted to make them smile, or show that he cared, or help them remain calm in the midst of a high-stress event. And, not to brag or anything, but he knew how to flirt when he met someone he wanted to try dating. He knew all the tricks in the bag, he knew how to play the game, and he always came out on top.

Had he been on any dates in the last few years? No, not really, but he wasn’t looking for hook-ups anymore Robin, and no, it wasn’t because his skills were falling out of use or whatever. He just hadn’t met the right person, but when he did? Please, his future boyfriend/girlfriend/partner would have had no idea what hit them.

At least, that was Steve’s rationale up until this morning. That was before he and Robin were called out to Lollapalooza to get some guy who’d tried crowd-surfing shipped off to the hospital.

That was before he’d laid eyes on Steve and started flirting like his goddamn life depended on it.

/////

“Good afternoon, sir. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

The guy is laid out on the ground, surrounded by empty beer cans and cigarette butts. His security team has managed to get everybody out of the way, which is a miracle in and of itself because good god, the festival grounds are absolutely jam-packed with all kinds of intoxicated people. (He must be really famous to have a security that large and that good to get that done.)

The guy blinks up at him, making a questioning sound. “Whuh?”

Steve shoots a look at Robin, who nods before motioning for Dan and Sarah to grab the gurney. This guy was definitely going to need the hospital. “Okay, sir, what is your name?”

“Ed – don’t you know it? You should know it,” the man slurs out, his eyes slowly focusing in on Steve.

“Um,” Steve shoots another look at Robin, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to need you to give us your name.”

“It should be on your list, right?” The man waves his hand. “Ya know, your list at the pearly gates.”

A loud sigh issues from above him and Steve glanced up to see another guy with short, curly hair sighing down at the prone man. “You’re not dead, man.”

(Steve glances between the two quickly; they’re both dressed in leather pants, although standing guy is wearing a black tee that has the sleeves ripped off while his patient is shirtless. And covered in tattoos. And wearing eyeliner. And whose hair was long and luscious looking and fuck, he’s hot, he’s really, really hot.

Shit.)

The man on the ground shakes his head and then winces at the movement. “Nuh uh, no way man, I’m gone,” he sighed out. “I’m seeing angels, Gare.”

“You’re seeing – oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” the standing man – Gare? – lets out a loud groan. “Seriously, Eddie?”

“Your name is Eddie, then?” Steve jumps in, and the lying man – Eddie’s – eyes lazily fall back on Steve. Their eyes are locked now and Eddie starts to smile, and his smile is wide and bright and oh fuck, keep it together Steve.

“O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven, unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes of mortals fall back to gaze on him,” Eddie says, gesturing wildly at Steve, his hand reaching for Steve’s cheek. Steve darts out of the way and Eddie frowns (adorably), his hand falling back onto the ground.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Huh,” Robin pops up to his right. “Well, he’s definitely concussed, but he can still recite Shakespeare, so that seems like a good sign. I still think we should take him in.”

“I - ” Steve is going to say something, he really is, but in the minute he looks away from Robin, a hand covered in rings grabs onto his and yanks and he falls forward, barely managing from landing on top of Eddie.

“Did you fall just for me, angel?” Eddie smirks at him and shoots him another wink.

“God, please take him in,” he hears Gare speak above him, and Steve barely manages to extract his hand from Eddie’s and push himself up and away.

(It’s just some flirting, Harrington. You’re, like, the King of Flirting. You can handle this.)

/////

Steve, actually, cannot handle this.

Getting Eddie onto the gurney was a process, mainly because Eddie kept trying to grab Steve’s hand and would make crying sounds every time he missed. And not only that, he kept up a steady stream of lines – like, man, Steve thought he had lines, but these were ridiculous.

Hey, can you take off your clothes for me? I want to see how an angel hides its wings.

Is that a ladder in your pants or are you a stairway to heaven?

Hey Gare, how do I ask God’s permission to marry one of his angels?

His friend Gare – Gareth, he’d clarified – just stood around and apologized as they loaded Eddie up into the ambulance. He at least had a modicum of professionalism; Robin couldn’t stop snickering at Steve’s plight and more than that, she egged Eddie on, telling him all kinds of personal information about Steve.

“The only wings he has are the butterfly wings of his tramp stamp, bud,” Robin says when Eddie asks about Steve’s wings again.

Eddie gasps and reaches for Steve (who is trying and failing to get an IV drip going). “Fuck, angel, it’s like you were made for me. My angel,” he murmurs out, and when Steve shifts out of his reach, the guy has the audacity to actually start tearing up.

“Dingus, hold his hand,” Robin hisses from the other side of the ambulance.

“I’m trying to get his IV hooked up, Rob,” Steve hisses back. He barely suppresses a yelp when one of Eddie’s hands slides up his thighs towards his waist.

“Here, let me,” Robin says as she slaps the window to the driver’s seat. She darts over and takes the IV away from Steve.

Sighing, Steve reaches down and grabs Eddie’s hand before it can cup him in his pants. Eddie somehow manages to look simultaneously happy and sad that Steve is holding his hand (and that he's not holding something else.) “Aww.”

“Sorry, buddy, he doesn’t put out before the first date,” Robin laughs again.

Eddie gasps, like he’s offended she would suggest such a thing. “I’m offended you would suggest such a thing! You – you don’t treat a priceless jewel like some common rock! You cherish it and take it out to dinner and then make love to it and have its babies!”

Steve’s beet red. He knows his face is beet red. And judging by the look at Robin’s face as she gets buckled in across from him, she’s enjoying this way, way too much.

“You’re enjoying this way, way too much.”

“What can I say? It’s not every day I see Steve Harrington blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” Steve hisses at her, but he’s prevented from saying more by Eddie yanking him towards his face.

Eddie smiles, his eyes running all over Steve’s face. “Are you an angel?”

“Oh my God,” Robin snort-laughs into her shoulder. Steve looks up and shoots her a glare.

“Traitor.”

“But if you’re an angel,” Eddie says, drawing Steve’s attention back down to him, “does – does that mean I’m dead?”

“What? No, no, no,” Steve rushes out, trying to comfort him but now Eddie is in tears, and fuck he’s even pretty when he cries, shit shit shit –

Steve squeezes his hand. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s going to be okay – ”

“Dear Lord,” Eddie starts out, and okay, he’s praying now?

“When I get to Heaven,” Eddie takes a deep breath, opens his eyes and beams up at Steve, “please LET ME TAKE MY MANNNNNNNN - ”

Jesus Christ, he’s singing Lana del Ray.

“WHEN HE COMES, TELL ME THAT YOU’LL LET HIM IN, FATHER TELL ME IF YOU CAN - ”

Eddie’s really giving it his all with this performance and honestly, Steve would be a bit more impressed if he wasn’t bleeding from his head in the back of his ambulance. (Although in a way that does make it even more impressive.) It’s just – look, Steve’s been subjected to a lot of people flirting and hitting on him in his tenure as a paramedic and he’s never crumbled, not once. But for whatever fucking reason, this stupidly hot metalhead somehow has his heart by the balls (or whatever. Look, he’s a paramedic, not a wordsmith, he doesn’t need to be the words guy in this relationship.

Not that this is a relationship.

Fuck.)

“OH THAT FACE, OH THAT BODY - ”

Steve tears his eyes away from Eddie to look at Robin who is – yep, she’s filming this on her phone.

“Seriously? That’s a HIPAA violation waiting to happen!”

“Please, when you guys get married three years from now, you’ll be thanking me,” Robin’s grin is shark-like. “Besides, it’s not every day your best friend gets serenaded by a Grammy-winning artist.”

So this guy is super famous then. “Huh?” Is all Steve manages to say.

Thankfully (or unthankfully) he’s interrupted by Eddie. “HE MAKES ME SHINE LIKE DIAMONDSSSSS!”

One second of silence.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

“WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME WHEN - ”

For fuck’s sake.

Sarah slides open the window to the front. “We’re pulling in now,” she grins, shooting a look at Steve and Eddie, who’s still singing his heart out and has a death grip on Steve’s hand.

“I KNOW THAT YOU WILLLLLLLLL - ”

“Yep, yes, okay, thank you,” Steve says, pulling his hand out of Eddie’s grasp. Eddie immediately starts pouting again and makes grabby hands. “No, nope, it’s time to see the doctor.”

“But, but, angel baby,” Eddie whimpers and god, it feels like he’s actually tugging on Steve’s heartstrings, “I just found you. You’ll stay with me, right? Please please please please please - ”

“Of course he will,” Robin hops in, to which Eddie cheers. “Besides,” she winks at Steve, “Suzie’s the one on shift today. Don’t you think it’s time for Eddie to meet the family, Stevie?”

Steve can feel the blood rushing to his face while Eddie gasps happily. “Yes, please! Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make a good first impression,” he says, patting Steve’s hand like Steve’s the one in trouble right now.

(Which he definitely is.)

Robin and Dan get Eddie (and his gurney) out of the ambulance and onto the ground, and it’s only when Eddie starts loudly yelling – nay, screaming – for his angel of music that Sarah pokes him in the shoulder and Steve gets moving.

He hops out of the ambulance and Eddie stops yelling. “Hi baby,” Eddie giggles and holds out his hand. “Are you with me, angel?”

(He shouldn’t entertain this; Steve Harrington is calm, cool, collected. He’s a goddamn professional.)

Steve sighs, walks over, and wraps Eddie’s hand in his. “Yeah, you demon, I’m with you.”

Eddie beams, and Steve can’t stop himself from smiling back at him.

(Yeah, this guy might be the one that broke his streak, but something tells him that when Eddie is finally in his right frame of mind, Steve will certainly be giving him a run for his money.)

we need more Rockstar Eddie braining himself trying to do a crowd surf and Paramedic Steve having to endure a very embarrassing drive to the hospital where said rockstar keeps asking him if heaven sent him.

#steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #rock star Eddie munson #paramedic Steve harrington #Eddie falls first #Eddie also literally falls harder #Steve doesn't stand a chance tbh #pour one out for our boy Gareth #lmk if you want a follow-up

6K notes · View notes

memelleity · 2 years ago

Text

day shift sentence starters

❝ what are you doing in my room? ❞

❝ when was the last time you been to the dentist, huh? ❞

❝ do you know what the definition of insanity is, ____? doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. ❞

❝ you cling to the old ways like a tick on a dog’s ass. and look at where that’s gotten us.❞

❝ you’ve made your point. ❞

❝ divided, we are vulnerable. but together? the sky is the limit. ❞

❝ you’re so weird. ❞

❝ excuse me, do you guys have any black history month discounts? ❞

❝ home sweet home. ❞

❝ snitches get stitches! we were gonna keep that between us. ❞

❝ you don’t live here anymore. ❞

❝ please, don’t take my daughter away. ❞

❝ decided to take me up on my offer? ❞

❝ everything’s for sale. you just have to be desperate enough. ❞

❝ just gonna put that in your mouth, huh? ❞

❝ you want to make a deal or not? ❞

❝ that’s everything i have. ❞

❝ are those jordans? what size? ❞

❝ things have changed since you left. ❞

❝ look here. i’m putting my name and my ass on the line by vouching for you. ❞

❝ i don’t know how i feel about this. ❞

❝ let’s go and get this thing over with. ❞

❝ how’s the shirt look? ❞

❝ i took this meeting out of respect for you, ____. ❞

❝ why should i extend you yet another lifeline? ❞

❝ i’m a changed man. ❞

❝ i promise, if you give me that opportunity. i’m not gonna mess it up. ❞

❝ you’re back. that’s all that matters. ❞

❝ what? you can’t hear me? ❞

❝ you don’t have cash on you? ❞

❝ think about it this way, you’re gonna be my eyes and ears. ❞

❝ what are you wearing? ❞

❝ you have on a suit. how’s that inconspicuous? ❞

❝ i didn’t take you for an arts and crafts guy. ❞

❝ it’s not complicated. it’s just a seat belt. it protects you. ❞

❝ so you’ve read the book? ❞

❝ i’m just a big cat lover. i got two of them myself. ❞

❝ can i offer some advice? ❞

❝ i don’t give a shit about rules. ❞

❝ it wasn’t always like this, you know? ❞

❝ i’m gonna take back what’s ours. ❞

❝ the way i see it, you have two choices, two doors. one: you bend the knee and join me in service, and you live. and two… you don’t. ❞

❝ you think you’re a god? ❞

❝ i thought he was gonna shoot me. ❞

❝ next time i tell you, “gimme that goddamn gun,” you gimme that goddamn gun! ❞

❝ you did good in there. ❞

❝ everybody pisses themselves the first time. ❞

❝ we bit off more than we could chew today. ❞

❝ i hate doing laundry, so i kind of just kept buying new ones. ❞

❝ i wish i had a beer or something to offer you. ❞

❝ you almost got me killed yesterday. ❞

❝ you almost got yourself killed yesterday. ❞

❝ what? you’re gonna die in the name of kissing your boss’s ass? ❞

❝ why do you care? ❞

❝ so what you’re saying is you kinda need me. ❞

❝ you told me your secrets. ❞

❝ we’re like a team, partners, whatever. ❞

❝ you can call me cupcake or whatever you prefer. ❞

❝ want to get a selfie for your instagram? ❞

❝ stay behind me, i keep you alive. ❞

❝ don’t shoot where they are. shoot where they’re gonna be. ❞

❝ don’t even think about it. ❞

❝ put that gun down. take your finger off the trigger. ❞

❝ don’t let it bite you! ❞

❝ what happened to you? you piss your pants? ❞

❝ it’s illegal in 40 countries, right, bro? ❞

❝ i don’t like the sound of this. ❞

❝ hey, wait, this doesn’t make sense. ❞

❝ why do you know the names to all the specific twilight films? ❞

❝ oh, i wish i was you! to experience that the first time. you’re in for a treat. ❞

❝ you’re tougher than you think you are. ❞

❝ come on. we’re gonna be late to the party. ❞

❝ you know how this ends, don’t you? ❞

❝ you took something from me, and now i’m gonna take everything from you. ❞

❝ you might feel a little swerving, but that’s just my special driving. ❞

❝ there’s a lot i need to tell you. ❞

❝ i know you’ve had trouble trusting me in the past… i know you think i keep things from you, but right now you gotta trust me. ❞

❝ you’re freaking me out. ❞

❝ looks like you can use my help. ❞

❝ just don’t tell your mother. ❞

❝ i hunt vampires. that’s what i do. ❞

❝ we said we were gonna be honest with each other. ❞

❝ don’t touch me! ❞

❝ i’m not afraid of you. ❞

❝ there’s a mirror over there. ❞

❝ my blood, it just… it feels like it’s on fire… ❞

❝ you look good. everything looks great. ❞

❝ we’re gonna work this out. ❞

❝ it’s crazy how you get attached to someone. ❞

❝ you cut my head off! i thought we were friends. ❞

❝ friendship is complicated, huh? ❞

❝ how do i look? ❞

❝ hey, i’m sorry i tried to eat you. ❞

❝ leaving so soon? ❞

❝ this is stupid, ____. let me at least explain. ❞

❝ you think i want to work for a monster like her? ❞

❝ i killed her. ❞

❝ you killed her. ❞

❝ are you frightened? ❞

❝ why are you doing this? ❞

❝ i’m already dead. ❞

❝ i’m gonna make sure no one can ever hurt her again. ❞

❝ you should thank me. ❞

❝ no, ____, listen. they tortured me. ❞

❝ what do we do? we’re surrounded. ❞

❝ see me fighting a bear, you pour honey on me. ❞

❝ see, now you’re just being a bitch. ❞

❝ that’s how we do, baby. ❞

❝ nothing but a flesh wound, dog. ❞

❝ what are you talking about? ❞

❝ you know i work alone. ❞

❝ i hate you! ❞

❝ i should’ve just got another job. ❞

❝ please let me have this little victory. ❞

❝ think you’re smarter than me? ❞

❝ shit. what are you gonna do about the money? ❞

❝ how about we take it one day at a time? ❞

❝ you just gonna leave me like this? ❞

❝ that’s what i love about los angeles. all the damn vampires. ❞

#sentence starters #sentence starter meme #starter meme #rp meme #rp prompts #prompt meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #ask meme

23 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Hopefully I can slip something in before the time is up. Don't feel the need to rush anything your writing is amazing and I will be excited for it no matter when it comes! I would really like to see a fic where Remus get's sick/hurt or just overall run down because he has been trying so hard to catch up to the rest of the team after he finds out he is going to be playing with them. Thank you!

So the discord discussed this briefly a while ago, but it’s been on my mind ever since. Stretch marks are often overlooked or hidden from workout regimens, even though they’re super common and the majority of people have them; for Remus, who spends basically the whole summer getting strong, it is very likely that he would get some. All the stretch mark love!!

SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for some negative self-talk

So Sirius’ heart was breaking a little bit.

That was fine. Everything was fine. It was just that his fiancé didn’t love him anymore.

Okay, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn’t like he was lacking in time to overthink things over the past week and a half. It had been nine days and about six hours since he was last allowed to hug Remus without him shying away with a stumbling excuse, and even longer since Remus had changed clothes outside of their bathroom after locking the door behind him.

Speaking of, he hadn’t worn anything other than jeans with his too-big shirts tucked in, which seemed like a pretty terrible idea in the dead of summer. He looked cute as hell—of course he did, it was Remus—but Sirius had noticed the almost-constant red flush on his face. He hadn’t had a chance to see those glorious freckles, either, which was a true tragedy.

So, yeah, Sirius’ heart was breaking. More than a little bit, actually.

“Are you okay?” he asked while they laid in bed together, ankles intertwined. Remus had been so, so careful not to get too close during the night and it was driving Sirius a bit out of his mind. Even Pots had noticed, pulling him in for a tight hug because “you looked like you needed it”. Damn him and his observation skills, Sirius thought.

Remus sighed. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you too hot?” Sirius ventured. It was summertime, after all, and Remus was terrible about regulating his temperature.

“No, I’m good.”

“Do I smell weird?”

Remus rolled onto his side. “What?”

“I mean—” Sirius sniffed his arm. It seemed normal to him. “Do I smell weird to you?”

“…no?”

“Because I run warm, so if I was sweating all over you—”

“What are you talking about?” Remus asked, looking honestly bewildered.

Sirius felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “It’s just…you haven’t been cuddling me recently. Or hugging me. Or letting me touch you at all, actually. And—and I was worried that I upset you.”

“Oh.” Remus’ voice was soft, and his eyes went huge and sad, like melty caramel. “No, baby, you didn’t do anything.”

“Okay.” Sirius wasn’t quite sure he believed him. “Um, while we’re on the subject: when did you start wearing shirts to bed? And flannel pajamas in July?”

Remus’ ears turned vibrant pink and he cleared his throat, glancing away. It wasn’t the cute, sexy blush, either—he looked downright humiliated. “It’s nothing, I was just a little cold,” he muttered at last, turning back over and tucking his chin down.

After a second’s hesitation, Sirius trailed his hand down the bumps of his spine; he was still all angles despite the many pounds of corded muscle he had put on over the summer training sessions. “Is this alright?”

“Yeah.” He sounded a little choked up and Sirius’ worry worsened.

“What’s going on, Re?” he asked, still running his fingers over the broad expanse of his back. Remus mumbled something. “Can you say that again?”

There was a puff of air. “I don’t want you to see them.”

“See what?”

The side of Remus’ jaw in Sirius’ eyeline ticked. “I didn’t know it would happen.”

“You lost me, sweetheart.”

Remus settled onto his back, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. He chewed his lip for a moment before exhaling sharply. “Fuck it.”

He sat up and tugged his shirt over his head, then shimmied his pants down his thighs. He was still wearing underwear, which was a little weird in Sirius’ mind. Remus crossed his arms over his chest and stared holes into the opposite wall as Sirius scanned him for any injuries, bandages, or surprise tattoos. “…I don’t see anything.”

“Don’t—” Remus broke off and closed his eyes. “Please don’t sugarcoat it.”

Sirius sat up as well, still searching for what in the goddamn hell his fiancé was talking about. “Re, I genuinely have no idea what I’m supposed to be seeing.”

“Here.” Remus pointed behind his shoulder blades. “And here.” He moved his arms to show his hip and waist. “And here.” It took a moment, but he stretched his leg out so his inner thigh was exposed.

Sirius tore his eyes away from the smattering of freckles all over him—fuck yeah, finally—and followed the lines in shades of pink, lavender, and reddish brown that shone in the moonlight through their windows. “So you’re upset about your stretch marks?”

Remus nodded miserably. “I didn’t realize they’d be this bad.”

“Did you—” Sirius made a timeout motion with his hands. “Re, did you think I wouldn’t want to cuddle you because of these?”

His mouth twisted and he wrapped his arms around his waist again. “It sounds stupid when you say it like that. Sorry.”

“Sweetheart.” Sirius scooted closer and pressed their shoulders together; almost instantly, Remus leaned into him. “Everybody on the team has stretch marks. I have stretch marks. That’s what happens when there’s a lot of muscle gain.”

“They’re not as bad as mine, though.”

Sirius tugged the edge of his shorts up to show his inner thigh, where light silver lines still crisscrossed his skin. “They fade over time, but I’ve had these since I was nineteen.”

“Yours look pretty.”

“So do yours.”

Remus’ hold on himself tightened, and his fingers twitched down to trace the wobbly edges of the marks. “I knew you wouldn’t be upset, but…but I’m already kind of wonky-looking and I thought this would just make it worse, and I have been trying so hard to catch up that this happened and it’s just—it fucking sucks, Sirius. I’m itchy and stretchy and they’re permanent.”

“Can I touch you?” As soon as Remus nodded, Sirius hauled him into his lap and hugged him tight. “I don’t know who told you that you’re wonky-looking, but it’s not true. You are the handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life and those stretch marks just show how strong you are now. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you know they’re as beautiful as the rest of you.”

Remus was quiet for a moment. “You always say I’m pretty, but I don’t feel pretty. It’s like piling more scars on. Nobody looks at scars and goes ‘oh, yeah, that’s sexy’.”

“I do.”

“You look at my freckles and think they’re sexy.”

“I look at you and I think you’re sexy,” Sirius said firmly into the back of his shoulder, planting a kiss to the side of his neck. “And for the record, I’ve always thought your scars are hot as fuck.”

That drew a laugh from him. “Thanks, love.”

“Can we cuddle now? And will you stop wearing jeans when it’s ninety degrees outside?”

In lieu of a response, Remus pushed him back down onto the bed and wrapped all four limbs around him with a contented hum. “I missed this the most,” he said into the side of Sirius’ chest.

“Me, too,” Sirius murmured back, kissing his head and snuggling closer despite the heat. Under his palms, the stretch marks formed all kinds of patterns, and he decided to map every single one with his fingertips. Remus fell asleep after three; Sirius dozed off halfway through the sixth.

258 notes · View notes

bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare · 4 years ago

Text

It Doesn’t Matter What They say [Corpse Husband]

Hey! This is my first time doing something on Tumblr. If you’d like, go to my Wattpad because thats where this story comes from! Also, sorry if its not accurate. Im still knew to the Corpse_Husband fanbase and the people the people he is seen playing with (-Cr1tiKal and Pewdiepie] and im not familiar with personalities

Summary: No one knew of Corpse and Y/Ns relationship. Until Corpse thought it was a good time to reveal it and maybe to make the people who simp way too much over him calm down a bit. he thought it was a good idea, so did Y/N. But the fans were not happy..

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

Corpse really loved Y/N. He loved her so much that he let her see his face- a week after they met. They met online through Twitter and became best friends, and they totally hit it off. Y/N made Corpse happy, and he trusted her with all his life. Y/N was small, cute, and innocent. She had a soft high pitched voice and was short. She was the exact opposite of Corpse, and that's what he loved about her. He loved when she wore his hoodies, they were always way bigger on her and the sleeves went over her hands. He loved how kind she was. Y/N was a sweetheart, and Corpse didn't know how he was able to score this hard.

Y/N really loved Corpse. He loves so damn much it might kill her. She was happy she got her phone fixed after it stopped charging, if she didn't this wouldn't have happened. They became best friends and hit it off, and she loved when she made Corpse smile. She knows his real name- but calls him Corpse because that's what he prefers. She knows his birthday, his favorite foods, his favorite songs, his personality, how to cheer him up, she knows everything. She loved Corpses deep voice and how it soothed her to sleep. She loved how tall he was compared to her. She loved sitting on his lap while he made his videos and did his streams. He loved wearing his warm hoodies and snuggling up to his chest after long days. Corpse was the best, and Y/N didn't how she was able to score this hard.

Corpse and Y/N thought it would be a good idea to reveal their relationship to the world.

So they did.

In his last stream, he was playing Among Us and decided to tell everyone about Y/N. His exact words were "Guys by the way, I think it's pretty important to tell you guys that I now have a girlfriend. Her names Y/N, and shes the sweetest little thing."

"I'm not little!" Y/Ns voice rung out from behind him. She was sitting on his bed watching him play. Everyone he was playing with freaked out at how soft and high pitched her voice was.

"Her voice is the exact opposite of Corpses, how is this possible?" Felix said with a laugh.

"How can a demon score with an angel?" Charlie commented.

"She sounds so cuuuute!" Poki said, already falling in love with Y/N even she never heard her voice.

"Awwe now I feel lonely." Sykkuno said, sending a sad face in the chat which made them all laugh.

"Nice to meet you all!" Y/N said, walking over to sit on Corpses lap. She was wearing a familiar black hoodie that was way too big on her. Hmm.. wonder whose it is.

"Wha- are you wearing my hoodie again? I was looking for it all over." Corpse had a smirk plastered on his face and looked Y/N over. She was wasn't wearing any pants- but she knew that smirk meant he was just teasing her, they don't make love very often. They just have late night cuddle sessions and kisses.

"I hid it from you so I can wear it." Y/N said a little sheepishly. She was a little awkward talking to Corpse like this infront of everybody. But by how his friends greeted her, she knew they liked her. She was sure the fans would like her as well.

"Wow. You know I was very cold without that hoodie. I had to wear this plain white t-shirt that made me even more cold." Corpse shook his head in a teasing way. Though Y/N was very soft and innocent, so she thought he was being serious for a second.

She frowned, "I'm sorry! I'll give it to you now-" She started to take it off but was stopped by Corpse.

"Ay ay ay ay- no no no, it's fine I was just joking Y/N." He chuckled, hugging her tightly.

"How is she so pure?" Toast muttered, sitting there in disbelief.

"Shes so innocent." Aoc chuckled, already liking this Y/N girl. She really wanted to play a game of Among Us with her, she seemed like such a nice girl to play with.

"Corpse you better treat her like a queen or I swear to god I will-" Charlie was cut off by Sean.

"SHe sound so perfect for Corpse, I'm for ya dude." Sean said, knowing what to come with that sentence.

"Oh how dare you cut me off. I was about to speaks of wisdom!" Charlie said.

"You were about to say profanity. We need to protect this bean we know as Y/N" Poki said.

Charlie sighed, "Fine. But you better expect a fucking DM Corpse!"

Y/N decided to play along with this, She looked curiously at Corpse and said "Babe? Whats fucking?"

There was audible gasps, and Corpse looked at her in complete and utter disbelief. His little innocent bean just said the no no word, it was forbidden in her vocab.

"CHARLIE!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"NOOOooOOOOOOO!"

"DON'T TAKE HER INNOCENCE!!"

"pretty sure Corpse already took it if you know what I mean."

"Ew what the f--feck?"

--------

It was a fun night for Y/N and Corpse. Y/N enjoyed her time talking to the others and studying Corpses strategies as an imposter. She was excited for when she was gonna be able to play with them, she really looked forward to it. After the stream, Corpse went to record a video reading some more fan written horror stories. Y/N went and laid on the couch, waiting patiently for her boyfriend to finish up his recording- which was going to be a while. She scrolled through her phone, watching a few of Corpses videos and looking at photos of them on her camera roll.

But she made a mistake by going on Twitter.

"Corpses gf is so fake lmao"

"Y/N does not deserve Corpse! Shes sounds like such a bitch"

"I hope @T/N and @Corpse_Husband break up. I hate their relationship already 😭"

"Y/N sounds like a hoe and isn't worthy of Corpses time."

"I bet Corpse is so tired of @T/N lmao. its obvious in his voice loooooooool"

"I hope Y/N dies so i can get a piece of deep daddy 🤩🥰"

"I already hate Y/N and I haven't even seen her in any other vids XD"

"Yoo they sound like they hate her lol. I bet they're just putting on an act to make her feel better about herself."

The DMs, messages, and comments on her posts were even worse..

"You don't deserve Corpse. Fuck off hoe."

"You aren't worry of Corpses time."

"You're such a user."

"Bitch"

"User"

"I bet Corpse really hates you."

"I hope you fucking because Corpse doesn't need an ugly hoe like you in his life"

And they just got worse and worse. Y/N was shocked, why are they hating on her so fast? Does Corpse really not like her..? Is she really not worthy of his time..? NO! She pushed them away, Corpse loves you, and that's truth.

But even so, Y/N couldn't stop reading the messages. They were all so mean.. Only a few people stood up for her. She felt her heart break, everyone hates her... Just despises her! She felt tears run down her face. She cuddled into the hoodie, pulling the oversized hoodie her H/C hair. She felt hurt and hated, like no one wanted her, not even Corpse- the person who loved her the most.

--------

After an hour, Corpse decided to take a little break from recording and check on Y/N. He missed her soft voice and her cuddles, so he was on a mission to get just that thing. He stood up from his gaming chair and gave a nice long stretch and ran a hand through his black hair. He walked to his door, slowly opening it and quietly walking through the hallway. He planned to scare Y/N, and sense it usually takes him hours to finish his recording she wouldn't suspect a thing.

But when he got closer to the living room, he felt worry and concern overwhelm him. He heard the soft sobs and cries of his beloved girlfriend. He rushed into the living room, sitting on the couch and picking her up to hold her in his arms. "Hey babe- are you ok? Whats wrong?"

Y/N didn't say anything, she just snuggled into Corpses chest and hugged him tightly as she sobbed.

"Babe, you can tell me anything, you know that? What's wrong? Did someone say something that hurt you on stream? Wait- is it what Sykkuno said? Baby I'm not gay he's just a friend and you know that, it's just a joke that we're-"

"I-i-its not that.." Y/N muttered out.

"Then whats wrong?" Corpse asked, his voice full of nothing but worry and concern.

Y/N grabbed her phone and turned it on. She went on Twitter on looked up the hashtag 'HateY/N' and told Corpse to scroll through.

She watched as he scrolled through the tweets, and his expression twisted into one Y/N has never really seen before, anger. Oh he was livid. How could they say those things at his beautiful, sweet, and happy girlfriend? He thought his fans would support him and Y/Ns relationship. Why didn't they care?

He read some of the battles, some people loved Y/N.

"Bro stfu. Y/N is perfect for Corpse."

"lmao what? Shes ugly asf"

"Seriously? If you really cared about Corpse you would support him. Now fuck off."

Corpse pulled his own phone out and hopped on Twitter, instantly typing a response to everyone who has been hating on Y/N.

He said "To everybody who has been hating on @T/N, my girlfriend. I love her with all my life and I do not like how some of you guys have been treating her. She has changed my goddamn life, and all this bullshit you guys have been spitting has made Y/N cry. So please.. just please stop."

After that, Corpse threw his phone onto the carpet and hugged Y/N tightly, kissing her temple softly. "It doesn't matter what they say, I will always love you Y/N."

#corpse husband #corpse x reader

670 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years ago

Note

How about some rough dirty talk head cannons for Billy Russo if you don't mind me asking? What are some things he'd say during sex? Bonus points if you elaborate on what he's doing as he says them. 😜

I see your challenge and I’m here for it! Bless you for giving me the chance to get in my dirty inappropriate thots for Billy Russo. Ugh, you have no idea how good this makes me feel. Ya’ll really coming for my entire thotty existence and I love you all dearly for it, yes I do.

FYI.. I feel like I went a little overboard. I hope I didn’t but yeah... I uh... Got carried away a wee lil bit. Apologies in advance for this rude fucker and his dirty ass mouth. Also, his smidge of a humiliation kink (giving)...

Warnings:

{ NSFW CONTENT. NO MINORS.} If you’re underage, this was not written for you nor should you be reading it. If you continue to read after this warning, this is now strictly a you problem and there’s honestly nothing I can do about it because I warned you clearly.

If you are sticking around, here are some things you need to be aware of going into the post: mentions of public foreplay, fingering / handjobs, grinding, blow jobs, unprotected sex, oral sex against a window, humiliation/degradation kink heavily suggested and that’s it.

Tagging:

Once again, there is absolutely no one, not a soul on my Punisher tag list. If you’d like to be on it, please tell me or add yourself to the doc I’ve linked below. It’ll make me so very happy.

I’m gonna throw a no pressure tag out to @chasingeverybreakingwave and @twistnet because I know they both like Punisher and I think they might get a kick out of this. Absolutely no pressure, ya’ll.

Other Stuff:

[ faq | nsfw masterlist - no minors | tag list doc ]

BILLY RUSSO & DIRTY TALK;

♡ “Look at you, dripping already. And no panties? Fuck yeah.” is said in a low and husky whisper as his hand travels up the hem of your skirt. He’s cupping and squeezing your pussy and bucking himself into you. The man doesn’t care where you’re at currently, he’s only got one thing on his mind right now and that’s just to see how much of a mess he can make you before the end of the night.

♡ “Keep it up princess. I’ll fuck you right here, right now. In front of everybody.” -and as he says it, you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he will fuck you in front of everybody. And probably enjoy the hell out of it as he does. You’re teasing him on the dance floor, your ass rubbing right against the way he’s straining at the expensive suit pants he’s wearing. His hands are all over you, getting lower and lower. Going up the bottom of your dress. Holding you against him so you don’t dare put any distance between your bodies.

♡ “Eyes up here. I want to watch you swallow every last drop.” his fingers are buried in your hair. You’re down on your knees under the table or in front of him as he leans against the wall of the elevator. Your tongue dances over the length of his thick cock, circling the tip. teasing. You’re giving back in the teasing department as good as you get and he’s so wound up that he’s actually kind of pulling your hair. Pushing your mouth down on his cock as far as you can take him in your throat. Until you feel tears stinging at your eyes and you’ve hit your gag reflex. He chuckles and bites his lip and then he asks in a growling whisper, “You gonna be daddy’s little cum slut tonight? I bet you’d like that, huh? Do you wanna swallow it all like a good little slut?”

♡ The second you’re in the privacy of your hotel room / apartment, etc.. Billy has you pressed tits first against the floor to ceiling glass window and he’s chuckling, a low dark sound against the shell of your ear as he muses, “I bet you’d like it if I just slammed my cock inside you right now. Right in front of this window where everybody out there can see you take my cock.”. He’s thrusting himself against you over and over and his mouth is all over your neck. “Turn around, princess. Eyes on me.” he mutters. You turn around as instructed and he sinks down to his knees in front of you. Pushing the bottom of your dress up over your hips. “Watch me lick you clean.”

♡ When he cums, he’s growling. Moaning your name. Bucking his hips erratically at a bruising pace against yours. “Shit. Fuck. Shiiiit. Goddamn I love the way you cling to my cock. Tell me how it feels, me filling you up like this. Say it loud.”

127 notes · View notes

theficplug · 4 years ago

Text

Can I Come Home {Atticus (lovecraft country) Fic}

Atticus Freeman x Black Reader

Warnings: smut (21+)

(Ayida-Weddo is a loa of fertility, rainbows, wind, water, fire, and snakes)

(Atticus wants to come home after his little adventures. Reader isn’t having it.)

The incessant knocking at your door pulled you out of your concentration on rolling the last bit of your hair. It had been a week of perms and presses. You were more than ready to listen to your vinyls and relax by yourself away from the troubles of whatever was going on in this hell of a country.

The person at the other end of this door had other plans for you apparently and as an adventurous woman living alone you weren’t about to take any chances.

You grab the small pistol out of your brown fur coat on the rack and closed your eyes as your fingertips begin to spark little flames.

As you slowly creak the door open, Tic lowers his glasses and his face comes into view.

You let out a deep sigh of relief as you lower the pistol to the ground and the fire simmered down.

“BOY! You play too much knocking on my damn door at this hour of the night! I almost blew your ass clean to Mississippi, Atti ! I figured you’d drag yourself here after you finished parading around God knows where else with Miss Letitia Fucking Lewis.” you say reluctantly unlatching your screen door to look at your ex boyfriend face to face.

Even in the moonlight you could still see the bronze glow cascading from his sculpted cheeks, to his beautiful broad nose, and down to his cupids bow. He was standing there biting at his plump bottom lip nervously while awaiting you.

“Whoa . HEY. HEY . HEY!” He yelled with his hands up as he ducked down.

“Now, baby look, i-” Tic stammers across his words trying to plead his case as you press the cold bottle of Cola to your reddened lips as you give him the cold shoulder.

You shook your head and closed your eyes to summon snakes around his ankles as he hopped side to side kicking off the illusions.

“Town is small, Atti. Everybody talks. A postcard to know that your knucklehead ass is still alive would’ve been nice. But to hear from Betty with the uneven bob at the salon that you’re back in town running around with Leti of all people. You know good and well we haven’t seen eye to eye since junior high. I know we broke up but that don’t mean you had to disappear on me like that. Your triflin behind ain't no good Atti-. Why are you even here?” You ask him pointedly instead of going off on your tangent.

The audacity of him to show up after months of barely 3 postcards from him and a few dodgy and quick calls in the middle of night spewing all types of things about monsters and shapeshifters and both kinds of wizards.

He grabs you gently around the arms and presses a soft kiss to your lips while holding your chin between his fingers.

“Just wanted to see you, that’s all.” He says simply in that tone he uses when he wants you to let him inside. Granted, you knew you were gonna let him inside and come inside but you wanted to watch him sweat.

“I should summon rain over your head...You hungry?”

After huffing and puffing you decide to ease the screen door open fully so that he could embrace you properly.

You turn your head and his kiss lands on your cheek instead. His gaze fell upon you intensely as he caressed over your cheek where his lips had been moments before. Atticus’s gaze falls from your warm oak coloured eyes to your neck, to your collarbones, and down further where your robe was slightly open and the neckline of your silk red gown had fallen lower.

You lean in to breathe into his long black coat. The Chanel Pour Monsieur that you gifted to him before he left for the war evaded your senses. You hiss softly before smiling against him, feeling his large calloused and frigid hands run up the back of your thighs to cup under your butt and lift you onto him.

“What, you run around all summer and come back here in the winter when you're cold and lonely and realize that she wasn’t gon’ stick around? Is that it? Your summer fling is back on the road?” you question with a huff and a roll of your eyes.

He chuckles deeply and shakes his head as he walks with you still wrapped around him into your small quiet little cozy candlelit home with Ella Fitzgerald , These Foolish Things playing softly in the background.

“Town talk goes both ways, baby. I heard you were playing backseat bingo with Martin Thompson, the preacher? Really?” he questions as he licks over your neck and jawline pressing kisses along the way.

“And what is there for a lonely young woman to do when her man writes her a letter trying to rationalize falling in love with a goddamn ninetail fox. I saw Letitia coming. Seen that a mile away. I knew there would be women and men along the way for us. But, a fox, well baby you had me beat on that one. A descendant of Ayida-Weddo herself wasn’t enough? Bible Boy was good to me. He would make sure I made it home safe and sound every night from the shop. Bought me that fur coat and everything.” you say and he drops his head with a chagrined expression.

Atticus sits you down on your own two feet and looks at you for a moment. Both of his hands on your hips.

“And what did you do for him, hmm?” He asks tracing his hands over the ties of your robe letting it fall open in one swoop.

“You really wanna know?” You scoff and swat at his hands for asking such a witless and invasive question.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers before lowering to his knees. He places one of your shea butter lathered feet in his hand kissing it softly before moving to the other.

Atticus wraps his strong arms around your waist and kisses your belly button.

You push his mouth from suckling open mouth kisses onto your clothed mound and saunter away from him and over to the record player.

You search through the collection until you reach Big Mama Thornton. You laugh to yourself as “Hound Dog” starts to echo throughout the room.

“You’re ever the jokester ain’t you?” Atticus says with a laugh of his own as you sway your hips to the music and dance over to him.

“Dance with me” you call out to him as he comes up behind you and you gasp at the feeling of how hard he is just from caressing you moments before.

He meets your movements grinding with a shimmy of his own as he matches your movements of doing the twist and you sway your hips flush against him. His hands ghost against your thighs again and up your body. He takes note that you’re not wearing anything under your silk nightgown.

Atticus caresses over your breasts carefully massaging over the almond coloured buds as you let out a soft moan and place your hands over his.

You turn your head to kiss him again this time less innocently than before as you guide his hands in yours and slide them down your body while never losing the beat of the song.

Goosebumps begin to pepper your skin and your breath hitches as his hands settle between your thighs. He brings his fingers to his mouth before moving between your legs again.

Atticus’s nails drag softly up your left thigh as he grips it and brings you closer to feel how he’s already hardening for you. You ride his hand for a moment trying to control your temperature that’s already too high for the average human body.

The flames of the candles dance as your excitement and wetness heightens and you tap against his thigh to warn him.

He laughs deeply as he works over your clit skillfully and methodically. “I remember” he says simply and your eyes roll back as you utter the word “out” assertively.

All of the candles burn out instantly and you revel in the feeling of his fingers treating your body and your flower like a Shenzhen Nongke Orchid.

“You’re two seconds away from making me nut in my trousers like we’re back in your dorm all over again.” he mumbles while nipping at your neck and your deep dark chestnut eyes slowly fade to a golden hue to a soft glow of scarlett red.

You nod giving him your consent as you lay over the couch. You wiggle your ass in the air , knowing that he’s watching while working his boxers down too.

He slowly works his way into you before slowly pulling out and watching his member glisten fully saturated by your nectar as he works his length up and down you before entering you again.

The little gasp you let out echoed through the room and the candles were lit again momentarily with the flames dancing around as you bury your face into the couch pillow.

He gripped your hips firmly bringing you back and down onto him as his other hand gripped your silk gown.

“Mhmmm, hmmph.” was all that left Atticus’s mouth as he sinks into your warmth the second time.

“Careful. Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” you rasp as he circles his hips finding the right rhythm for both of you as the little pants and shrieks fall from your lips when he pushes deeper into the right spot.

“All the times I’ve made love to you and you haven’t hurt me once. I won’t mention the time you singed off one of my eyebrows though. That was my fault, I shouldn’t have tried to wake you up like that.” he soothes as he moves your silk gown up further to massage over your back and cheeks.

His large hands soothing over and kneading the knots and kinks from standing on your feet most days doing countless amounts of roller sets and bang cuts.

“I know.” you whisper to him with a small laugh of your own. You drop your head slightly and arch your back when his hips finally rests flushed against your cheeks.

Your mouth goes slack as he picks up his pace but then pulls out.

“What the hell was that?” you question as you turn to face him.

“Just wanted to see that’s all. Wanna look at this pretty face all glossy eyed and reciting my name like a poem.” he teases as he leans in to connect his lips to yours again, this time letting his tongue glide over your bottom lip until you’re suckling it softly.

He’s massaging his dick against you slowly as you pout and huff against his lips. Your legs begin to shake slightly and you can feel yourself heating up more.

“Shh shh shh, what do you want? Use your words.” he asks as his fingertips ghost over your breasts up to the sides of your face. The chill of his hands feeling like bursts of fresh air against you.

Atticus lifts you once more to set you on the edge of the couch, his fingers tracing over your inner thighs.

“You’re really going to tease me after I’ve already waited months to feel you. I really don’t want to get Martin to finish the job especially when you have the best d-” you let out a muffled moan as he places his fingers into your mouth and thrust into you again.

You suckle his fingers, envisioning something else much bigger as he leans you on the edge of the couch and gives you what you’ve been missing for months.

Resting your forehead on his shoulder you close your eyes enjoying the feeling of being full of him.

You can feel him twitching inside of you as you begin to work down onto him, bouncing and coating his dick with you.

You caress your own body letting your hand wander to your clit , skillfully massaging as Atticus watches on.

Both of your moans and sounds of him pounding into you flows with the music as you both cry out into each other’s mouths as your orgasm rocks through you both.

Your fireplace goes out abruptly as you throw your head back and let out little uh uh mhhmmms.

Atticus leans down to place tender kisses between your breasts as he cums inside.

You slowly continue your rhythm riding out the little waves of aftershock as his hips stutter and he lets his own praises of you fall from his lips this time.

He slowly pulls out and swipes his thumb over next to your lips trying to fix your lipstick.

“Leave it, I was getting ready for a shower and the bed anyways. . . I’m sorry Atti.” you say to him softly as your fingertips trace his soft skin now donning a purple deep burgundy colour after being pressed against you for so long.

“You’ve made me feel the best I've felt all damn year. You ain't got a thing to be sorry for. I’m the one that came to apologize. I was just too bullheaded to realise that everything isn’t about just me. I regretted it the moment I got there. . The war. Ji-Ha. You finding out about Leti the way you did. It wasn’t like that in the beginning. I was supposed to go off and figure all out on my own. Somewhere down the line after you see enough crazy shit together. Things get all mixed up.. I’m sorry for all of that too. I just wanna come home. Tired of all these things that don’t make no sense when everything that makes perfect sense has been here the whole time.” he explains and you nod along listening to his words, mulling them over.

“Well you definitely scared the shit outta me… I checked that mailbox everyday for months waiting for a letter from you. And I think whatever you were searching for out there scared the shit outta you too. I think all of this made us both realise that we don’t really wanna be without each other..But next time if you’re gonna go off, play detective, and uncover some great family mystery,the smartest decision would be to take the walking fireball with you. Yeah? And who’s Christina? ” you ask him as he carries you off with him towards your bathroom.

“The dreams. I was wondering why I kept seeing snakes every day for a week. I ain't going nowhere. It’s gon’ take me all weekend just to explain all the shit I’ve seen in the last 6 months as it is-”

(not my best but i still hope yall enjoy! i’m knocking the writing rust off after a few weeks of not writing new stuff. seasonal depressive be hitting different. alright my boos x )

#lovecraft country #atticus freeman #jonathan majors #fanfic for black girls #lovecraft country fic

281 notes · View notes

jeonqquk · 4 years ago

Text

racket | jjk

↳pairing: jungkook x reader ↳genre/tags: badmintonplayer!jungkook and badmintonplayer!reader, barely any badminton related stuff, rushed asf, accidental confession-?, they dont even kiss wtf ↳rating: everyone <3 ↳wc: 6k

Jeon Jungkook was capable of being the eighth wonder of the world. He may not have come into existence in the 1700s but his ability to do almost everything perfectly was bewildering. Whether it be eating an entire cake in the span of a half-hour or defeating even the coaches at badminton.

Everybody loved Jungkook, his sweet and caring nature paired with those godly features attracted everyone to him- in many ways. Unfortunately, you weren’t part of the everybody lot.

You hated Jungkook. Absolutely despised his abhorrent ass. So much so that if he were the last person alive, you’d even kill yourself just to stay away from him. But that was highly unlikely, so you weren’t going to kill yourself.

The hatred had just always been there, his competitive side seeming fucking atrocious to you. The feeling was mutual, though, so you didn’t feel as guilty as you would’ve if you just detested him while he behaved politely with you.

Jungkook was petty, even you knew that by now. His competitiveness always getting the better of him and turning him into someone with a completely different persona. Losing was not something he was used to. Maybe that’s why he had only a handful of friends, he would do anything to win. It could be a silly bet or even a tournament- Jungkook just had to win.

All the people he was friends with though, their relationship was beautiful. There were only 4 or 5 boys he actually got along with and their adoration for each other could be seen by anybody.

This wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t also as competitive as him. You’re technically in no position to say that Jungkook’s hatred towards losing was unhealthy because you hated it too. You thought it made you seem weak, incapable- and you supposed that it was the same reason as to why the youngest Jeon son hated losing as well but you never tried understanding him. Let alone let him speak for a minute if he was in a 10-foot-radius of you.

It was better this way, you thought. It was better to hate him than actually trying to befriend him and catching those unwanted feelings. Hating Jungkook was simpler, easier. Or so you thought for the 10 years of the two of you attending the same badminton academy. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the two of you were in the same class at college as well. So you had to deal with his annoying self for the larger part of the day.

It was around a month before the annual badminton tournament of your state and obviously, you and Jungkook were taking part in it, more intent on defeating each other rather than the opposing teams. This wouldn’t work though, your coach had called the two of you after practice one day and had said “Listen, Jungkook, Y/n. I know that you’re both really good players and also hate each other.” he sighs, “I’m not asking you to befriend each other, no. I just want the two of you to get along for the tournament. For the sake of our school.” The coach makes a pleading face and you just nod, looking over at Jungkook to see his reaction. He hums and looks down.

After the coach has walked away, you look at Jungkook again, getting ready to tell him that this wasn’t really going to affect the way you behaved with him but he beats you to it, his voice reaching your ears as your lips stay parted midway.

“So, I guess...no more arguing?” Jungkook finally looks at you with a slightly questioning face and you’re left momentarily blank, his proposition seeming so out of character that you’re at a loss for words. This wasn’t expected out of Jungkook. What was expected was that he would just scoff before glaring at you for no reason and stalking away. Him asking you if you wanted to stop the childish arguments the two of you had was not expected.

It takes you a minute to comprehend that Jeon Jungkook was actually trying to put an end to those mini-wars of yours. Your reply is dumb “Uh- okay.” You’re still in a daze from what he said and it’s only when he snaps his fingers in front of your face that you immediately want to spit out a sassy remark but bite your tongue on it, not wanting to disregard Jungkook’s suggestion just after seconds of it having come out of those pink lips of his.

Not knowing what to do, you nod and turn around to get into the locker rooms before heading home. You’re oblivious to the fact that Jungkook almost called your name, wanting to talk to you more, he didn’t know why, but decided against it. You wouldn’t accept the offer anyway.

The walk back to your house is quiet, you’re humming a random tune and there aren’t many vehicles on the road, except for school buses dropping kids home. Unlocking the door, you step into your house and close it behind you before keeping your bag in your room and changing out of your clothes. After all that is done, you check the time and see that it’s 3:18 pm, you have around 2 hours before badminton coaching and suddenly feeling motivated, you heat up some leftover pizza and walk into your room to paint something.

You may not be good at art, you admitted that without any shame because there were a lot of other things you could perform flawlessly. Playing badminton, whining and being able to smell any fried food from miles away to name a few. But you didn’t want to do art because you’d get good at it or something, it was something you genuinely enjoyed and the comments from other people didn’t matter as long as you were satisfied with yourself. And that meant your circles not looking like amoeba.

You take out a drawing book that had been laying in the third drawer of your desk for months and dig up some paintbrushes and watercolour tubes you had left before sitting at your desk to finally start your work. You let your fingers guide you, not thinking much about what you were doing and what the outcome would be. Occasionally dusting your hands from the pizza crumbs, you were quite focused on your work.

30 minutes later, you’re leaning back in your chair and surveying your painting. Woah, it looks pretty-

Wait is that fucking Jungkook you see? “Huh?” your forehead is creased in perplexity, did you just paint a goddamn Jungkook? It looks like Jungkook, though...the bambi eyes and that tiny pout on his lips. How did you-

You were so confused right now. What were you thinking? Well, you obviously weren’t thinking.

Wow. Apparently, you had drawn Jungkook, your sworn enemy, without knowing. Not knowing what to do with the average portrait that didn’t do any justice to his actual features, you quickly clean up your stuff and keep it all back in its respective drawers.

It’s now 4 and you get out your books to get some homework done before leaving for coaching. Ugh. You’d have to see Jungkook there too. You wonder how he’ll behave with you, hopefully, he won’t come anywhere near you.

Sighing as you finish the assignments before stretching back in your chair, you get up to change into your sports clothes before grabbing your bag and water bottle, looking at yourself once in the mirror before walking out towards the pleasantly close by badminton academy you had grown way too accustomed to.

Upon reaching the building, you walk through the reception and smile at the elderly lady who sits there every day. You push the door that leads to the courts and walk on the side, greeting your friends that were warming up. You don’t see Jungkook anywhere right now so that’s a good sign and you bow slightly at your coach in respect although the many years of being taught by the man have obviously gotten the two of you very close. Your bag is kept near a bench in its usual place and you put on the shoes you could wear only on the badminton courts before picking a corner on the side of the court and begin stretching.

You’re walking to get your racquet when you see Jungkook jogging up to your coach, saying something to him with an apologetic look before getting a playful shove from sir as he nods towards the benches where Jungkook would most probably keep his stuff and do some quick exercises before joining the rest of you.

Said boy’s gaze meets yours and he smiles. You don’t reciprocate the gesture, scoffing and moving over to Jihye who’s already looking at you with a cheeky smile adorning her face. “What?” you question, not understanding why she was acting so weird “Don’t pretend you don’t know.” she gives you a playful shove to which you reply by tch-ing and rolling your eyes, done with her childish behaviour. “Seriously Jihye what th-”

“I saw Jungkook smile at you.”

The look on your face is an accurate representation of what you were thinking right now. So what? That smile was nothing, he was just acting upon what he had said earlier. “Yeah, so?” you reply boredly, watching as Jihye’s mouth open wide- wide enough for her to fit her entire fist inside.

“Yeah, so? Are you shitting me Y/n? Jeon Jungkook just smiled at you and you didn’t even do anything in response?” you’re still watching her blankly. Although you admit that it’s not her fault entirely, even you were shocked, very shocked when he first told you about the no-more-fighting pact.

“He just said that we shouldn’t argue now, because the coach at school said that it was going to be bad for our team. You know, in the tournament.” you simply shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact and Jihye is about to reply before the coach is calling all of you for a shadow drill.

Shit.

You are given one side of a court and by some way or the other, Jungkook is opposite to you, his black pants sticking to those fleshy thighs so deliciously and hi-

What?

What is wrong with you? You’ve been thinking about Jungkook unconsciously- first drawing him and now this. Get a grip Y/n.

The whistle of your coach sounds throughout the entire room and your chain of thoughts is broken as your run towards the left side of the net from your position in the centre of the court before picking up one of the shuttles and running back to the centre, moving to the right side of the net now and doing the same as you continue the drill. Jungkook is swift, his feet are balanced and he still manages to look so graceful as he runs around his side of the court.

You’re finally done with all the corners of the court twice as you move to sit in the space between the two different courts as you pant. The two people who were waiting now go to your and Jungkook’s positions as they begin the shadows drill now. You’re surprised to see that Jungkook has opted to sit next to you, you with your bright pink skirt sticking to your skin in all its glory.

“Hi.” he smiles and turns towards you with his hand outstretched in front of your form. With a questioning look on your face, you shake his hand. How far was he planning on going when he said that the two of you wouldn’t be having those silly arguments anymore? To you, it meant that the pair of you would just stick to your own places and not interact with each other or do anything that would result in the bickering to resume.

“Hey..?” Jungkook retracts his hand, leaving yours in mid-air. “So you uh wanna like hang out..um..like somewhere?” This boy had been taking you by surprise too much lately, why would he randomly ask you to hang out?

Sure he had said that he didn’t want the two of you having those little fights anymore but this? This was unexpected- really fucking unexpected.

“Uh...so suddenly?” he slightly frowns “Why? Are you uncomfortable with it? That’s totally fine though!”

Jungkook was being too friendly, a little too friendly, you were confused and shocked at his tactics but tried not to show it on your face. “I mean, yeah, okay.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could even realise it and his face was now bright. His smile so sweet, you feel a cavity forming and he nods. “Cool! After practice then..? He trails off, suddenly hesitant and you’re still dumbfounded by how quickly things had taken a turn, for the better you supposed.

Not even a day ago, the two of you were ready to claw the other’s eyes out and now, you were agreeing to go out with him. This is not a date though. Jungkook and you are just going out to bond as friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Nodding, you smile lightly, trying to reduce some of the awkwardness from your face as you suggest a cafe to meet up at.

Practice is over and you are walking out of the academy with Jihye chattering beside you. “Oh! I almost forgot, so about that Jungkook thing. I saw the two of you talking also.” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, or that’s what she thinks it looks like. Turning to face her, you sigh at her usual habit of sticking her nose into others’ business and tell her simply that he had just asked you to meet up at the cafe so you could just chill.

“Holy shit, it’s a date!” Jihye seems more excited about the meet-up, not date, her hands coming up to join in front of her chest as she looks at you in bewilderment. “Why are you so passive?” your friend is way too excited for something so normal but then again, this was you and Jungkook. The two of you could never go a day without insulting the other before. Now you were meeting up with the same guy at a cafe in another hour or so. When you tell Jihye this, she stops walking, putting her hand on the left side of her chest- where her heart was. Her dramatic behaviour was now normal now and you knew the reason for her overreaction.

Your love life was drier than the Sahara Desert in a fucking draught. You had been on just a handful of dates in your entire existence, only 5 or 6 of them ending up with you fucking the guy. The others had just been awkward, mainly because of your edgy self.

It wasn’t that big of a problem though, you were too occupied by your college work and badminton tournament preparations that anything else just seemed like a waste of time. For instance, instead of going out with some guy, you could stay home and binge-watch Stranger Things. There were a lot more practical things that could be done without the company of males.

The only reason you agreed to go out with Jungkook was that you wanted to see how it would end up. There was a very slim chance that your meeting would go very well but if Jungkook kept behaving as sweet as he was now, you wouldn’t even have a solid reason to be rude to the poor fellow. Nevertheless, you were not going to completely relax because one never knows.

“I’m coming over to pick out your outfit!” Jihye is excited, jumpy because this is new- you going out with someone of the opposite gender. And although it was completely normal for someone else, you just looked at your friend judgmentally, feigning annoyance and earning a light shove from her that has you stumbling on the sidewalk.

“‘Kay'” she squeals when you agree and invites herself to your house, saying that you should take a shower while she picks out your outfit. You trusted her though, Jihye’s fashion sense was really good and you knew for a fact that whatever she would pick out would be trendy.

Unlocking your house with the bronze key, you walk in and keep your bag in its place before walking to get a glass of water for Jihye and yourself. She accepts and plops down on your couch before you pull her up by the arm, a disgusted look on your face. “Go wash up first.” she pouts but heads into the bathroom near the hallway nonetheless to wash up. You shout to her from your room that you’re heading to shower and she shouts back an “Alright.” from downstairs as you open the door, heading in for a steamy shower.

40 minutes later, you’re getting out of your bathroom, content, to Jihye’s shrieking. Something along the lines of missing the date and you roll your eyes when you hear the last word. It was not a date for God’s sake!

You nonchalantly nod at no one in particular and apply your cream before heading out in a bathrobe. She’s sitting on your bed with some outfits placed on your bed. At first glance, they all look colour-coordinated with some accessories here and there but upon closer inspection, you see that every piece of clothing on your mattress was one of the shortest you had in every category.

“Do you want me to look like a slut?” you ask with your arms folding in front of your chest, and Jihye looks at you with wide eyes, offended that you even had the nerve to comment on her outfit-picking skills.

“No! These are all fine for a meet-up.” She uses finger quotes for the last word and you smile to yourself, “Uh, let me just stop you there. I don’t really know what people mean when they use this.” you make the finger quotes and she gasps “Did you just-” your shoulders raise and as the laughter dies down, you walk closer to the bed, mentally evaluating each outfit she had oh so carefully picked. They’re all really stylish, you gotta admit that but you’d never say it to her face. The one closest to the headboard consists of a full-sleeved plain white turtleneck that had a greyish-brown dress that reached your mid-thigh laid on top of it. It was something you could wear, maybe with some electric pink leggings. You see that Jihye, who is now rummaging in your collection of shoes, has also laid some black boots in front of the bed that matched the first dress.

Your gaze travels to the one on the middle one and you immediately furrow your eyebrows, already ruling the strapless crop top and ripped shorts out. Too much skin.

The one to the far left is also decided to not be inappropriate for the occasion as you didn’t think Jungkook would want to see you in a burgundy top with spaghetti straps. The jeans that had too many huge holes in them didn’t even look cool at this point. What were you thinking when you bought this.

Jihye comes out with some heels for one of the outfits “Why are you even putting so much effort into this? I can just wear a shirt and sweats.” She huffs out, unamused, as you giggle at her annoyed face. “Kidding. So, I really like this one.” you point at the dress and she smiles slyly “Showing off your long legs I see.” Punching her shoulder, you make some place to sit on the bed, glad that you shaved today. “Now, get out of my room. I need to change and apply make-up.” She nods and you watch her close the door behind her, getting up to lock it for extra safety measures.

Not like she was gonna barge in and catch you in your star printed underwear anyways. Changing into the turtle neck and then the dress, you look at yourself in the mirror and if it wasn’t your frizzy hair, you would even think you looked cute. You brush your hair and settle for a high ponytail. Putting on your shoes, you apply a little bit of make-up, not wanting to seem overly eager but the excessive amount of perfume may or may not give you away.

As you open the door and walk down to where Jihye has changed into some sweats she had kept in your house for times like these, she gasps upon seeing you, chip almost falling out her mouth and chews it before widening her eyes comically “Babe! You look so good.” you smile at her compliment, giving her a twirl as she gets up to probably to hug you before deciding against it, shaking her head.

“So, is my make-up looking fine?” she nods furiously and you pick up your purse that was on the dining chair before looking at the clock to see that you only have ten minutes before Jungkook arrives. You bid Jihye goodbye, not worried in the slightest bit about her being alone at your house.

As you’re walking, the cafe comes into view and you spot a familiar figure walking into the shop as well and you increase your speed to enter at the same time as Jungkook to make it seem as if you weren’t even slightly late. He doesn’t notice you even when you’re right behind him and walks to a table to sit down as you sit opposite him immediately, realising that he had walked to a two-people table in the corner of the shop.

His eyes widen and he stutters out in shock, “O-Oh, you’re here,” Nodding, you hide a smile and greet him back, trying not to get into an argument with him. It’s silent for a while, you think of anything to say to break the awkward atmosphere but just as you’re looking up from the ground to speak to Jungkook, his voice is filling your ears. “Do you want to order?” He waits and you simply nod, “Okay, I’ll come to get my coffee.”

Just as you’re getting up, Jungkook keeps his hand on you without warning, head shaking frantically. “No! I mean, I can get it for you.” Looking up in surprise, you’re unable to speak for a moment. Did Jeon Jungkook just say that he would buy you coffee?

You shake your head and snap out of your trance. Or at least you try to. “No, it’s alright. I can get it myself.” Jungkook rushes to quieten you again and looks like he won’t let you win, so you sigh and back down. “Fine.” He giggles and walks off to the counter while you take your phone out to kill time. Getting bored when you see that there are not any notifications, you switch the device off and look out of the window, watching as people get out of their cars for a pitstop at the cafe before driving away again.

“Here are the coffees.” You turn your head and see Jungkook setting two cups of coffee on the table before sitting himself. Looking at what he got you, you thank him for bringing the correct order and he just sends a light smile in your direction, rubs his hands together and picks up the cup with both hands. You almost coo, but hold yourself together. This was your enemy.

That reminds you, “So, why are you suddenly being so kind to me? It’s really weird to experience you treating me nicely.” You hadn’t meant for your tone to come off as accusing, but it does, and you have to watch Jungkook’s eyes flash with hurt for a second before shaking his head lightly. He places his cup back in the small saucer and his hands on either side of it.

“I knew you would ask me this.” egging him on with a raise of your eyebrows, you take a sip of your coffee “Remember how Coach said that we should stop arguing?” At your nod, he licks his lips and continues on with his explanation, “Well, I thought about it-” “You told me to stop arguing right after he left.” “I thought about it and I decided that we really shouldn’t be having these fights. Like, what’s the point? I’m not getting anything out of it. You’re not getting anything out of it.” He ignores your words and when you hear his, ask yourself why you hadn’t tried to put a stop to the childish arguments you had with Jungkook.

You don’t know why you ever fought back. Well, you did hate losing and Jungkook did everything to rile you up- so he was at fault too- but there was no specific reason as to why you hated Jungkook so much. “I don’t know, you were the one who started them. I don’t have a problem with becoming friends.”

Jungkook looks at you, looking as if he’s trying to figure something out, pouty lips looking kissable but you quickly brush those thoughts off. “So..” his hands come closer to yours and you’re shocked to feel your heart starting to beat faster, its pace picking up as Jungkook’s hand comes closer to yours. “..friends?” his pinky intertwines with yours and you feel your face turn red, the action igniting something in you.

Looking down at your fingers intertwined seems to be a big mistake as you gasp, the sight just overwhelming you. His hand fit in yours perfectly, and even if he meant it just as friends, you couldn’t help but imagine how it would be to be loved by Jungkook.

No! You two just started behaving normally around each other and you’re already thinking about loving him?

A voice in your head sounds as Jungkook retrieves his hand to pick up the call that had distracted you. You take your hand back and keep it in your lap, tingling sensations till lingering.

Jungkook looks at you apologetically for a second, and you reassure him that he could take the call but he tells whoever was on the other side of the line that he was busy, cutting the call after he told the person that he would call them back later.

“Sorry about that.” you barely catch his mumble and shake your head, “Don’t worry.” As you finish your coffee and make small talk with Jungkook about random things, you start growing more comfortable around him, cracking jokes and laughing at his lame ones. You’re discussing some things about the upcoming tournament when Jungkook suddenly leans in closer.

You move back out of shock and he stills, eyes suddenly going wide as his breathing halts. Your own starts getting heavy, his sudden action having caught you terribly off guard. After partially having gained your composure back, you see that Jungkook is still in the same position, “J-Jungkook?” He takes a moment to snap out of whatever trance he was put in and blinks once, twice before gasping loudly and jerking backwards. His back hits the chair and his mouth is still open in shock at what he did.

“S-Sorry..” he trails off, chewing his lip and your eyes follow the motion carefully before darting them back to his face quickly. He furrows his brows and starters ahead of you before shaking his head, murmuring something to himself. “You ok there?” you try to keep your voice soft, soothing as Jungkook shifts his gaze to you, wide eyes looking absolutely adorable.

You question him again, worried, “What wa-” “I like you.”

Silence.

You sputter, his words having caught you off guard and if Jungkook’s eyes could go any wider, they do, his hand instantly coming to slap over his face and he curses, “I-fuck.” You’re still shocked by his confession and your brain takes time to process what he said, the three simple words not registering in your mind until suddenly, Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the present.

“Y-Y/n?” He sounds hesitant, and your face must be an accurate representation of what you’re feeling right now because Jungkook begins speaking again, his eyes filled with worry as he tries to fix his mistake. “No. I mean, yes, I like you-” Your face portrays horror at his words again and he rushes to correct himself, hitting himself on the head once.

“You what?” Your voice is hushed for unknown reasons and Jungkook looks around, trying to calm himself down by breathing in and out and you use the time to do the same, the initial shock having worn off as you exhale loudly and take a bite out of the cookie from the small plate he had gotten.

“I like you, Y/n.” Jungkook’s tone is more serious this time, and you try maintaining a straight face, his words finally sinking and you choke on your saliva. “Like like me?” you question dumbly and he nods desperately, licking his lips and drumming his fingers on the table, a nervous habit of his.

“Oh,” Jeongguk tilts his head at your response and you muster the courage to ask him a question that had been lingering on your mind ever since he confessed. “Since..?”

He coughs loudly into his mouth, trying to hide the blush that creeps up his cheeks and looks at you with a suddenly brave gaze, “I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/n. The reason I started annoying was because I wanted you to notice me, not because I disliked you...And better confess now instead of regretting not doing anything before right?” Your mouth is left hanging at his confession now, the real reason for his pestering finally coming out into the light.

“Why would you annoy me, though? You could've just come up and talked to me, it would've been way easier for us.” At this, Jeongguk blushes, trying to cover his burning cheeks from you and cups his face in his hands. “I don’t know..you were really annoying, to be honest.”

“I was annoying- you asshole!” You lean over and hit his arm, much to his chagrin and he frowns before swatting your arm away. Silence falls over the two of you, but it's not the awkward kind, you just sit quietly, drowning yourself in thoughts about Jungkook.

“So…” Beside you, Jungkook shifts shyly and lowers his head when you look at him, the sight igniting something warm inside you. “Can I ask to ask you out?” His hair sits prettily atop his forehead, hands on his lap and his lips are scrunched into the cutest pout.

“Why don’t you ask me and find out?” You aim for a teasing tone, but miss by a mille, instead sounding breathless and at this, Jungkook smiles before leaning in closer. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Even though you knew he was going to ask you, the words still send tingles throughout your entire body, heart racing and you nod before you can even think.

It has you suddenly thinking about the drastic turn of events. The guy who was once (not even a few hours ago) your biggest enemy had just confessed to you and was asking you out. You’re thinking if it was a bad decision, but with Jungkook looking so innocent and just, like a child, it’s hard to think straight. Your heart beats erratically as Jungkook gives you one last soft smile before getting up and walking to pay, and you try chasing him and stopping him from paying for both your and his drinks but as much as you want to, you’re still stuck in place, everything that happened recently replaying in your head. He comes back in a few minutes and holds out his hand for you to take, and as you’re getting up with his help, your heart can’t help but flutter, the feeling of his warm hand encompassing yours turning you mushy like dough.

“Seriously?” You can’t help but scoff, and beside you Jungkook lets go of your hand to feign an offended face. “What! You said you liked Call of Duty!” Jungkook defends himself and you stare blankly at the venue of your first official date with Jeon Jungkook.

The baby pink blankets that adore his couch look inviting, so do the various snacks on the coffee table but still, this was your first date. You had really expected him to go all out and take you to dinner at a classy restaurant. And then maybe have ended with a drumline playing on a bridge. Ok, maybe that was too much.

This doesn’t mean that you’re disappointed, though. Nope. This- a date on Jungkook’s couch with Call of Duty and snacks- was perfectly fine. Great, even. You finally crack a smile, nudging his shoulder and muttering a ‘Just kidding.’ under your breath when his face turns sad.

You grab his arm and sit on the couch, patting the space beside you for him to occupy as you shuffle through the unhealthy packs of chips and nachos to find your favorite one. Jungkook grabs a drink and you shuffle under the soft blanket, curling up and look at Jungkook, trying to act cute as you prepare to embarrass yourself.

“Cuddle with me?” Jungkook almost spits his drink out, surging forward as his head turns towards your direction you’re positive he gets whiplash. “W-What-Did you..” Nodding, you try pouting but know for a fact that it looks more awkward than cute and huff out, “Just-” Jungkook nods suddenly, “Ok.” and gets under the covers. Your face heats up when you finally realise that you just asked The Jeon Jungkook�� to cuddle with you, and as he ever so slowly crawls towards you, your body turns stiff.

“I-Is this okay?” Jungkook hovers his hand over your waist and as you look at him with wide eyes, you nod lightly, indicating the green signal, his body heat not helping at all. Jungkook’s soft voice filters through your ears, and you swear you could listen to him forever. Even if he was making fun of your obsession with hard peaches. Yes.

“We can watch a movie if you want..and then play COD?” he suggests and you mumble out a “Sure” and watch as he picks up the remote to scroll through the various apps whose subscriptions he had.

He pauses at Netflix. “Can we watch Full House?” his voice is timid, and you turn to furrow your eyebrows at him, wondering why he would seem hesitant while asking that. Everyone loved Michelle.

“Why not?” At your words, Jungkook’s eyes light up and he smiles widely, turning towards the TV to play the show.

You rip open a packet of Cheetos and Jungkook tries (keyword: tries) to slyly wrap his arm around you from behind but doesn’t go unnoticed, and you move forward for him to easily slide his arm around you, not even bothering to look at his red face because there’s a really high chance that you’ll combust.

2 episodes into the new season, you turn to Jungkook and he notices, eyebrows raised as you gulp,

“I think I like you too.”

“That would’ve been really romantic if your Cheetos breath wasn’t hitting my face.”

epilogue

“Yesss, get it Kook!” Jungkook comes running up to you and you slap his arm in enthusiasm. He hugs you, tight, and your arms wrap around his body as well, congratulating him in his victory. His last hit had been a smash, one his opponent hadn’t been able to defend and the match had indeed with your school winning, the trophy yours for the third time in a row.

“We won.” The words coming out of Jungkook’s mouth urge you to hug him tighter, and you do, nodding although he probably can't see you. “We did.” Your boyfriend lets go of you to embrace his teammates and you laugh with all of them, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, realise that he may not be as bad as you first thought him to be.

tysm for reading whatever the fuck this is <3 send in feedback, if you want!

taglist: @cosplay-snow-white @neoculturedtrash @bluejaem @orange-lemon-cross @thatonemultistan @multi--kpop--fanfics @whiteprincessofnohr @chittaslee @multifandomnet @jaeminpeachy @jaeminpeachy-reblogs @kyuwoyo @cupidluvstarrz @thats-a-jen-no-no @johnyusangel @guksauce @tokyohobi @crazyboutjooni @trashlord-007 @masterninjacow @kpop-and-anime-for-me @madotae @minblank @byeolhyesisi @gustingirl @twilightkoo-bangtan @ethereal-eirene send an ask or dm to be added!

97 notes · View notes

guiltgoreglory · 4 years ago

Text

Heat Waves (Chapter 2: An Ego Check)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi. (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2626 words)

Chapter 1

Tagging: @abitofpablo @kimburgss @ceyruh

You watched as the dust clouds trailed behind the buggy. The rest of the trip you all sat in silence, taking in the events that had just occurred. When you saw the base from a distance you decided it was safe to holster your weapons. You wiped the sweat of your palms on your thighs as you willed your heart to slow down, and so it did. The second you felt back at equilibrium, Rone took a quick turn into the base. To no surprise, it was the most conspicuous looking place you could have imagined. You expected better from the CIA. Several armed American guards stood at the gate which was surrounded by obvious cameras. You rolled your eyes knowing that if anyone wanted to target us, it wouldn’t be hard. One guy even wore a New York Yankee’s cap. It’s like they didn’t even try.

“Check the new rides. Gaddafi had a going-out-of-business sale on armored vehicles…” Rone gestured towards the Mercedes amongst several other high-end vehicles. He whistled. Leave it to Rone to keep the tone light. “Max-leveled armored, man. We got a great deal… We stole ‘em.” Rone stared down Jack with the biggest smirk plastered on his face. He seemed extremely proud of himself for that one. You watched as a similar smile tugged at the corners of Jack’s lips. You behaved similarly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a shitty joke.

You gathered your things as the car came to a stop. Rone hopped out, throwing the keys to another man wearing a vest, “Sat unattended at the airport.” His stride paused as he watched someone from afar. You followed his gaze until you saw the Chief. This was definitely going to be something, you didn’t know what, but you could feel the subordination getting ready to bubble out of Rone. “Hey, Chief,” Rone called, nonchalantly, almost mockingly. The Chief looked like any middle-aged man who worked in business. Blue blazer, khaki pants, glasses, the whole shebang. His posture screamed superiority complex, you knew from the get-go you wouldn’t get along, not like it mattered anyway.

“I don’t want to hear it, Tyrone.” He called back, shuffling his way back into the building. Rone strutted towards him, duffel in hand.

“No, no, I understand.” He turned his head for a moment, keeping out of the way of a car

driving past. “I see what you’re going for here,” he called, on the verge of yelling, “Secret spy base with fortified walls, gate cameras,” He fumbled to get his id badge in hand. “and blue-eyed Westerners! walking in and out of this place all day long.” He did a lovely spin for emphasis, pointing towards all the obvious Americans walking around the base. You followed close behind, knowing you were going to need to speak with him as soon as Tyrone was done tearing into him. “But if you want to avoid..” His words were cut off by the Chief slamming the squeaky metal door in your face. His voice dropped a decibel and he spoke, mostly to himself, “That’s so rude”. He placed his phone into the tray mounted on the wall beside the door, before scanning in his card to gain entry. “Can’t believe he just did that to me.” Your heart started to pick up once again. Nothing made you more frustrated than a cocky man being too good to have a goddamn conversation.

The door let out a loud buzz before Rone pushed open the entrance. “Chief, if you want to avoid an international incident,” He continued to track in the Chief’s footsteps, “you send me my guys when I ask for them.” Many of the agents sitting at their computers peeked up to watch the drama unfold. Some took a look at you, the new face, before returning to watch the catfight.

Finally, the man turned to look at Tyrone, squinting in disapproval like a man reprimanding his toddler. “Local faces need to resolve local conflicts, Tyrone.” Aka, your life means little to nothing to me; the incident was just a wrinkle in my daily schedule. He flipped mindlessly through papers within a manilla folder. Wow he’s so important look how busy he is. “We’re guests in this country.” You and Jack came to stand a few feet behind Rone, trying to stay close without poking the bear.

“We’re unwanted guests, Bob.” Rone rebutted. He’s not wrong.

“We’re spies, you’re security guards.. Your job is to keep us out of trouble, not get into it yourselves.” God, he’s pretentious. Rone flipped through some files pinned onto a pillar, looking through some photos of notable people of the region.

“Well help me do my job and give me my guys.” He didn’t bother giving the Chief the privilege of his eye-line as he continued to search through the photos. You heard a buzz, and quickly turned to see the other members of the squad you were now a part of. Perfect timing. You made eye contact with one of them, Chris Paronto. Based on your prior research everybody called him Tanto, the mischievous one. Just then the Chief said some absolute bullshit.

“Here’s what you guys are good at: working out, eating five hot meals a day. What you’re not so good at is doing what you’re told.” God, he was so fucking proud of himself. Look at you little man, showing off your power in front of your team. You let a little of your annoyance slip out.

“Ironic considering without us, everyone’s a sitting duck.” You whispered softly. The men all turned their heads towards you. Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever to get this over with.

“Excuse me? And who are you? Some ex-army nobody who can’t let go of the glory of war?”

Alright, time to rip off the bandaid. You stood a little taller, stepping closer to the Chief, just beside Rone. “Honestly... I’m someone out of your security clearance.” You said assertively. Jack shared a hesitant look with Rone.

“Bullshit.” He turned away from you, readying to remove himself from the conversation.

“Alright, I think it’s best if we get a phone call over with now.” You dropped your duffel onto the tile, squatting down beside it. The armed men gripped their guns just a little bit tighter. The Chief stood, watching you confused. You unzipped the bag, reaching in to wrap your hands around a satellite phone. You zipped it back up but left it on the ground for now.

“I don’t have time for this.” The Chief began to walk towards his office as you stood, clicking a number on speed-dial.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The director doesn’t like waiting.” You held the phone to your head, keeping a straight face. That definitely made him pause. He turned back towards you, squinting his little face up.

“Director of what?” He sighed.

“Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.” You responded casually as if you were telling him the forecast for the next week. You waited as the phone continued to ring.

Everyone stood in silence except for one guy. Tanto leaned over to whisper in Boon’s ear. “Who the fuck is she?”

Finally, a voice came over the line. “Y/N.”

“Good morning, Sir. We have arrived at the location.” Everyone had their eyes on you, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Any incidents?”

“One en route to base. Resolved without violence. I’ll have a report to you within the hour.”

“Great.” He took a deep breath and you could hear him adjust in his chair. “I take it you’d like me to speak with Bob.”

“That would be appreciated, Sir.”

“Alright hand me over.” You took steady, calculated steps towards the Chief, holding the phone out for him to take. He gently took it from your hand. His eyes bore holes into the crevices of the tiled floor.

“Hello..” The Chief said tentatively. You stepped back, giving him some room. You crossed your arms across your chest, shrugging in Rone’s direction. You could tell he was living for this. “Yes, Sir…. I understand, Sir. Of course…. Goodbye.” He stood like a dog with his tail between his legs. He stepped back towards you, holding out the phone. You took it gladly with a polite smile. Pressing the phone back to your ear you concluded with a quick farewell before going back to put your phone into the duffel. As you squatted beside it, you looked up towards the Chief.

“Are we good?” You said. You no longer wanted to squabble and your tone reflected as such.

“Yes.” He said curtly, returning to his office. The second the door closed, the chatter of the room returned back to normal. You turned back to the men of the team looking at Rone expectantly.

“Alrighty then.” Rone turned to walk towards their lounge and the guys began to follow. Tanto sucked in his lips, trying to stifle a chuckle. The burly man next to him, Boon, jabbed him in the side before moving towards the room. You waited for Jack, giving him a genuine, small smile before trailing behind.

“Well, that was fun.” Mark Geist, also known by the team as “Oz”, stated monotonously, walking into the room as he disassembled his rifle.

“He gets his jollies pushing around alphas because he can.” John Tiegen. Called “Tig”. He’s the brains. The first one to be stationed here. You stood in the corner watching as he placed his things into his cubby.

“We had this commander back in ranger school, he was a real cockbag…” Creative insult. Tanto began to remove his vest as he narrated on. You figured you’d be here for a minute so you pulled the straps of your cello case off of your shoulders placing it onto the floor, along with your duffel. Now that you were within the compound you took off the hijab, throwing it on top of the luggage. You flipped your head forward shaking out the matted hair before you pulled it into a bun. It was a mess but it did the job.

“So on our last night, me and a buddy, we stole his beret.” He placed his vest down on the table before plopping down onto the worn couch. “Whole barracks chubbed it.”

“Chubbed it?” Boon replied, his tone made you think he really didn’t want to know, whipping out his knife to fidget with.

“Yeah, rubbed our dicks on it.” Tanto replied, the widest smile crossing his face. He looked like the Cheshire cat as he reached for the gaming controller. You coughed, stifling your laugh before your face turned quizzical. He turned back towards you, noticing your reaction before giving you a quick up and down and returning to his game. You sauntered over to Jack to join in the awkwardness of being new. You tuned into Tig as he was beginning to talk work to Rone. He leaned forward over a desk that Rone was sitting at.

“Leader was a former Gitmo detainee.” They scanned the rugged laptop, you presumed that they were looking for who you’d tangoed with this morning.

“Yeah, those guys usually don’t hold a grudge.” Rone said in his usual sarcastic tone.

“Hey guys,” Oz’s voice pulled you from your concentration as you turned to face him with a friendly smile. “Mark Geist, Oz.”

“Pleasure.” Jack went to shake his hand and you followed suit.

“Ah guys I’m sorry.” Rone spun on his office chair to face the rest of the crew. “Everybody, this is Jack Silva. It’s our third contract together so he knows the drill. We met training SEALs at Coronado.”

Tanto turned back for a second. “How do you get them to balance that beach ball on their nose?” A few chuckles could be heard from the guys.

“It’s tough.” Jack’s shoulders relaxed slightly, letting himself become more comfortable around his new team.

“And this” He gestured his hand towards you. “is Y/N. She’s uhh..” He paused for a split second, trying to find the right word to describe you. “black-ops and apparently has the government at her fingertips so she’ll probably be of use.” You smirked, nodding your head towards the guys. Rone rose from his spot, spreading his arms across the room. “So we got three ex-Marines here and one ex-Army retard who likes to rub his dick on things.” Tanto stood proudly facing you two.

“Kris Paronto. Call me Tanto.” You both shook his hand. You found Tanto’s demeanor amusing, and much to your dismay, his confidence was undeniably attractive. Despite the tall crowd, he still somehow towered above them. You shared eye contact for a brief moment before turning towards Tig. Although he felt easy to get along with, you hoped his casual demeanor didn’t affect his work. In your experience, the joker usually got people killed. Despite this, what you had researched, he seemed to be doing alright so far.

“Hey. I’m Tig.” He waved towards you two.

“Tig’s been here the longest, so he’ll get you up to speed on the area,” Rone said, stabbing a red pin into a map. Looking in more detail you noticed it was the location of your incident. “This is Boon. Scout Sniper, Zen Master, Holder of Tanto’s leash.” He pointed to the man sitting in the sturdy armchair.

He looked up from his lap. “Welcome to Club Med.”

“It hasn’t rained since June. It’s not gonna rain again until September.” He walked right up to you two strolling past slowly. “You two will be double-bunked. Not me, because I’m in charge. Gym sucks,” damn “food’s actually good.” Lose, win.

Tig walked to the center of the room, a few feet from the three of you. “Base Chief is kinda a tool, but who knows, maybe now that you’re here he’ll be moderately tolerable.”

You shrugged. “No promises but if he gets too snippy I’ll whip out the phone again.”

“Maybe he just needs a new hat” Jack quipped. Tanto looked up from the TV to point appreciatively at Jack.

“Don’t encourage him,” Rone said as if talking about his puppy.

“Come on. He’s just a guy with a job to do.”Oz said. Based on the dynamic he was the dad of the group. Honest, serious, tough-love type of guy. Makes sense given he’s the sniper. “He’s playing his string out, but if you talk to him, Bob did some shit back in the day.” You’d heard it a million times, some badass joins the CIA works his way up until he’s practically just a desk jockey with a power problem. Didn’t gain him any sympathy from you.

“Alright, Jack, Y/N, this is the whiteboard that’s gonna run your life for the next sixty days.” You looked over the various points of the board as Jack made his way towards the couch. Given the limited space you preferred standing just behind, leaning your hip against the back. “I want you to check it every hour cause last-minute moves pop up every minute, such as... where shotgunning it in three hours.” Everyone in the room except you, Jack, and Rone let out an audible groan of annoyance. Tanto slapped his controller onto his lap, looking up to the ceiling. Before concentrating back on the game, he looked at you. You took this opportunity to raise an eyebrow in his direction given his childlike reaction to the news. He responded with a strong but blank stare. You rolled your eyes slightly, breaking eye contact to pay attention to Rone. You were used to being dispatched on the drop of the hat, acclimating to the schedule here probably wouldn’t be too much of a pain.

“Three hours. I’ll let you know when I’m briefed.”

#Tanto x Reader #Tanto/Reader #Tanto x Y/N #13 hours #pablo schreiber #Kris Paronto #Kris Paronto x Reader #Kris Paronto/Reader

61 notes · View notes

solesurvivorpaigeargot · 4 years ago

Text

HOLY HELLO, friends and followers! It's once again that time, time for...

SKETCHY SATURDAY!

This week, we're bringing back one of my favorite types of prompt-- the Quote prompt!

This one is pretty simple, but I still gotta lay down the rules. Follow me past the read-more if you're wanting to participate this week!

This week is all about the dialog-- requesters may select a character and a quote to send in, after which I'll do the rest. If you're an old hand at this event, this is exactly the same as previous quotation prompts, just with an updated quote list.... buuuuut you can still validate my time spent writing the guidelines every week by reading them anyway XD

For the rest of ye, ONWARDS!

To send a VALID request for this week's Sketchy Saturday, send an ASK to my ASKBOX containing the following:

The CHARACTER you'd like sketched ---- Canon? Yep! OC? Hell yes! Everybody's welcome so long as they're from the Fallout Universe! ---- One character per ask ---- Sending an OC? Send your request ask FIRST, and THEN send reference info to my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have a reference image? Text description is fine! Going from text lets me flex my character design muscles!

The NUMBER of your selected quote ---- Numbers help me find things faster, but you can transcribe the quote, too, if you wanna. ---- Got more than one favorite? List up to three, in order of preference. If someone else has used your first choice, I'll move on to your second [or third]. ---- Still can't choose? Send me 'Dealer's Choice!' and I'll pick one... or maybe make up something new on the spot ;3

As always, I'd like to remind everyone that the artist is a singular human, managing this event to try and give people some joy during a time when there seems to be a dwindling supply. Please remember to be polite, say please and thanks, reblog the art after it's finished, make 'oooo' noises in the tags, all that good shit.

Kay? M'kay.

And with that all outta the way... THE QUOTES!

CW for a lot of colorful language, implied violence, and general vulgarity XD

“Excellence knows no age.”

"Whoa, whoa, calm down-- my metaphorical dick can only get so hard."

"Like... a broken clock is right twice a day, but I feel like I'm insulting the clock with that comparison."

"You know, people in this town have a habit of getting in over their heads... like at the bottom of the ocean."

"What the fuck is that look for?"

"Shhhhh.... the adults are talking."

"I did NOT just spend six days in a hole to NOT get drunk at the first opportunity."

"And whether you believe that... or you're correct, it makes a nice hot take."

“Goddamnit, we fought a revolution so we wouldn’t have to pay any attention to the FUCKING British!

“We plan ahead; that way, we don’t do anything right now."

"If you don't stop smirking at me like that, I'm gonna have to kiss you."

"Shenanigans! I'm calling Shenanigans!!"

"Fuck you guys, I'm going home."

"That would imply some kind of agency-- I assure you, I did not CHOOSE this in any capacity."

"On a scale of one to ten, I think I'm hanging out somewhere in the concept of infinity."

"Got the short end of the stick, so I started beating people with it."

"That was so low on the list of things I expected to happen, it was in another state."

"BALLS TO THE WALL, BOYS!"

“You put a whole new shine on the word overkill.”

"Above my paygrade."

"I'm surrounded by assholes..."

"Besides-- in my professional opinion, the change is an improvement."

"A lifetime of preparation... and I end up a REFUGEE?"

".... are you not wearing pants right now?"

“I want a man with a tattoo on his dick! Have I got the right man?”

“I’m short for my height.”

"This isn't a joke, you shit-sucking asshole!"

"Count to... ten."

"Well that's just recockulous."

“So where the hell is the goddamn golden oldie coming from?”

"I always take my own advice under advisement-- you, on the other hand, should pay a little more goddamn attention."

"Listen, babe-- we've been attacked, chased, shot at, poisoned, and blown up! HOW could it get any WORSE?!"

“It will get colder and colder until we all have to go to hell just to warm up.”

“Broke into the wrong goddamn rec-room, didn’t you, you bastard?!”

“When you need it, and don’t have it, you sing a different tune.”

“I only speak two languages; English and Bad English!”

"[sigh]... 'Yer face' is NOT a numerical value."

“Nothing is impossible, only mathematically improbable.”

“I mean, [insert your faction of choice] offers to give you anything you want and you ask for just two cases of dynamite?”

“People keep giving me rings, but I really think a small death ray would be more practical.”

“Or, or, and this is the really important part, we might not die.”

"Tch, amateurs."

"Violence isn't the answer, it's the question-- and the answer is yes."

As always, this will be going online just as I'm crashing for the night, but the askbox is open and ready to collect requests right now! So get yours in, and I'll see ya in the morning when I start arting things up! :D

-Loor

#Sketchy Saturday #Sketchy Saturday Prompt #Quotation Prompt #Fallout #Fallout Fandom Event #If you can see this the askbox is open and collecting requests #right now #do it #do eeeeeeeeeet #and then reblog and tell your friends XD

24 notes · View notes

fallout4reactsblog · 4 years ago

Note

companions react to news of the institute christmas party courser revolution and the fact that the institute is now apparently populated entirely by festive rogue coursers in elf costumes and also what ramifications this has on the politics of the commonwealth as a whole. father's drowned corpse, still in his silly santa hat, is now impaled on the antlers of the fake reindeer on the sleigh prop by the institute's metaphorical front door as a warning and a symbol of their casting off chains.

Cait: “You have to at least give them some points for creativity.”

Cait pulls a face, but says, “I guess.”

“Come on, Cait. You could at least admit it’s a little funny. I’d have paid good money to be a fly on the wall that day.”

“It’s fucked up, is what it is. How are you so calm?”

“How are you so stressed?” They lean back in their chair, folding their arms contentedly. “They basically did our job for us. No more Institute.”

She sighs. “You’re nuts.”

“Maybe. I guess all we can do is wait and see what happens, huh? Maybe they’ll retreat to their underground hidey-hole and leave the Commonwealth alone.”

“Not countin’ on it.”

“You can be as pessimistic as you like. The way I see it, this is a good thing both ways. Either the Institute collapses without strict management- which would be good- the coursers decide they don’t believe in what the Institute was doing before and stop- also good- or we go in there and only have to kill half of what was there. A win-win-win situation.”

She shakes her head. “Whatever you say. I’m not buyin’ it.”

Curie: “The absurdity of the situation is certainly not lost on me, Madam/Monsieur, but surely there are still, ah, consequences for this?”

“Oh, sure, yeah, definitely. I mean, they’ve basically got my son on a pike on the CIT lawn. But, you know, don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things, as the old saying goes.”

“I... do not think this is a ‘petty thing’ anymore.”

They wave a hand dismissively. “We’ll wait for the dust to settle, then go check it out. Until then, I’m not jumping to any conclusions.”

“I am merely saying that, given the evidence, this seems quite disastrous, especially in terms of political instability.”

“Ah, who cares about politics? Unless they or someone else starts a war, it’ll be fine. Let ‘em live a little. Everybody’s gotta have a rebellious teenager phase at some point.”

Curie wasn’t sure this counted as being a rebellious teen, but if that was what brought sole comfort, she would let them have it.

Danse: Listening Post Bravo is quiet. That’s how he likes it, and how it’s going to stay.

Courser uprising. Of course, it was a courser uprising. What else could it have been? Those things are killing machines; death is everything they were designed for, and now they’ve taken the reigns and can do as they see fit across the Commonwealth with no masters to keep them in check.

He pulls himself a little tighter into his corner. God, what a mess. This is over. They needed to go back to DC and forget they had ever heard of the Institute. Tactical retreat. If Arthur wasn’t so far on his warpath, he might have even suggested it, but he was six feet deep in his “now’s the time to strike” speech with no sign of stopping to think about the hole he was digging.

Well, Arthur could do what he wanted. Danse has had enough of this, enough of the goddamn Commonwealth, enough of the synths, enough of it all. This was his home, now, and he was going to sit here and plant potatoes and forget anything that happened outside. Especially the fact that coursers even existed and could, presumably, come knocking on his door at any moment.

He was going to make an effort to forget that first.

Deacon: He lets out a long, low, whistle, then turns to Dez. “We should’ve thought of that one first, Boss. It’s genius.”

“It’s madness.” Desdemona pinches the bridge of her nose. “But I suppose it works in our favor, at least for now. There should be chaos in the Institute right about now.”

“Other synths probably saw the carnage.” Glory pipes up. “They might be getting some similar ideas. This could be our moment.”

“Who would’ve predicted this, though?” Deacon grins. “It’s so out there that I can’t even be surprised that it happened. I mean, tell me “Holiday Office Party Leads to Destruction of Commonwealth Boogeyman” doesn’t sound like a headline you’d see in the Publick these days. It’s the perfect brand of Commonwealth crazy.”

“The Brotherhood is going to want to get on this,” Carrington says, shooting a glare Deacon’s direction. “We need to act before they can get there.”

“I’ve reached out to our man on the inside,” Deacon replies, glaring back. “But until we hear back, we might as well enjoy the show.”

Dez shakes her head. “I suppose so.”

Gage: “Honestly? Can’t blame ‘em. That holiday party sounds like an actual nightmare. I’d kill someone if they stuck elf ears on me, too.”

“Damn. There go my plans for next Christmas.”

Sole’s tone is dry enough he can’t tell if they’re joking. “I’m serious, Overboss. You even look at me with a costume-”

“I value my life, thanks.”

“Just providin’ fair warning. I don’t think any of the others would take kindly to it, either.”

They shake their head. “Mason wouldn’t mind. He practically dresses up in a costume every day.”

“Are you shitting me? He’d be the one that hated it the most.”

“Absolutely not. Mags would hate it the most.”

He thinks about it a moment, then replies, “Fair point, but what about Nisha?”

Sole sucks in a tense breath. “Oh, that’d be a mess. A bloody, ugly mess. Moral of the story: no holiday parties.”

“Good advice.”

Hancock: “I mean, good for them?” He stares at the ceiling, still a little baffled. “I guess?”

“But what does this mean, John?” Fahrenheit lights up a cigarette across from him.

“Well, we’ll be fine. I have that on good authority. Everybody else...” He makes a face.

“Exactly. No one knows.”

“No one even knew this was an option.” Smoke hisses between his teeth. “I mean, it’s fitting that they’d go up in smoke because of their own arrogance, but still.”

“People are losing it.”

He snorts. “Think of the Brotherhood. They must be havin’ a real heyday over there. But us? We’ll be fine. That’s what matters, right?”

“That’s what matters.”

MacCready: “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

Sole shrugs. “Then don’t say anything. I’m still not sure how I feel about it myself.”

“This is a good thing, right?” He looks to them for some explanation. “Right?”

“It’s too early to say, yet.”

“’Too early to say’? It’s a courser uprising for crying out loud. Forget what I said. This is bad.”

“Could turn out to be good, though.”

“Okay, it could, but...” he shakes his head. “What the heck. You’re right. We’ll see.”

Still, it’s a messed-up way to go. The only thing worse than being killed by a courser, he imagines, is being killed by a courser dressed up as a holiday elf.

Nick: He blinks slowly, purses his lips, then carefully folds his newspaper and puts it to the side.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I know. Crazy, huh?” Sole pops the cap off a Nuka-Cola and takes a seat on his desk. “All it took was a Christmas party.”

“I gotta say, this wasn’t among the ways I thought the Institute would go. Up in a firey ball, sure, but at the hands of killing machines dressed as Santa’s elves?”

“That’s what makes it so great! No one saw this coming, the Institute least of all, I assume. Can you imagine the mess that must be happening at Boston Airport right now? The Brotherhood is shitting their pants as we speak.”

He just shakes his head. “We can close that case, I guess. I’m not sure if I should be happy for them or horrified at the circumstances. Still, we should be careful; it’ll be hard to know what a change in leadership means for us.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I’ll give ‘em credit for creativity, though.”

Piper: This is the best thing to happen all year.

For once, papers are flying off the shelves. She’s selling copies right off the press, selling them before they’re even printed. She’s on backorder for the story of the festive courser rebellion, which she’d heard all the details about from a Diamond City guard wearing suspiciously Deacon-like sunglasses. But forget him.

People have traveled to get here and get their hands on the Publick. There’s someone from Bunker Hill sitting next to someone from Cambridge next to someone who said they came from the Glowing Sea, of all places. The caps she’s making is more than she could have ever imagined, and she’s glad she faced sleep deprivation to make this one a Publick Occurrences exclusive. It’s been well worth it so far. Nat doesn’t even have to stand on the street to hawk the paper, people are coming right up to her door and knocking, no joke.

She knew the war would be profitable, but it’s made even better by the way it all went down. A holiday party gone wrong is the perfect headline, and if she could find a courser, she’d kiss them for their genius. Because this is the best thing to happen to her since she not-so-subtly implied McDonough was a synth.

Bless the coursers of the Institute for their impeccable sense of style.

Preston: “I have to say, I didn’t expect to be crossing ‘take care of the Institute’ off of my to-do list so quickly.”

Sole cocks their head to the side. “I mean, it’s not gone yet. Just... under new management.”

“New management, new threat in my opinion. You can’t really believe everything is going to stay the same after this. The Institute is going to change in at least a couple of ways.”

“Fair.” They lean up against the workbench. “Kinda crazy how it all went down, though.”

He chuckles. “I’d call that an understatement, General. No one could’ve seen this one coming. Trigger-happy Brotherhood goes on the warpath? I thought we might see that one, but blowing up from the inside?” He shakes his head. “That’s a new one.”

“They kinda had it coming, though. Who thought making killing machines play Barbie was a good idea?”

“Someone who came to regret it, no doubt.”

60 notes · View notes

sometimes-i-write-4-you · 5 years ago

Text

je t'aime too: Eric Forman X reader

Requested by @thatsabummer02 : Could you do an Eric Forman x Female!Reader? When Eric geeks out and the reader finds it cute but the gang makes fun of him. So for Eric’s birthday the reader climbs through his window and gives him something Star Wars related and Eric gets excited and kisses the reader then gets nervous and they confess their feelings and make out or something. Sorry if that doesn’t make sense

a\n: hope you like it!

trigger warning: cursing.

We all sat at the Forman Basement, expect from Eric, who was standing in front of the freezer, talking about star wars. Most of the people around him find it stupid and keep poking fun at his love for a Movie series, but i find it Adorable. The way he gets so excited over the movie, and the way his lips moved along to the lines in perfect sync. Whenever his mission of convincing the gang to see it again… for some reason, it made me happy, and maybe I was hoping that one day he’ll talk about me all excited, and his lips would move against mine in perfect sync.

“- and that’s why Leia and Luke are perfect for each other. I mean, both are Brave, Smart, and-” Eric explains, but Hyde had enough. “Man, shut up, you’re boring my ass off” He says, punching Kelso lightly, since our tall, self-centered friend fell asleep. “Aw, man, i was having the best dream” Kelso sighed, “i was a Jedi and i went to save Leia, and then when she kissed me for luck i got to touch her boo-” “Kelso! This is so disrespectful!” Eric cuts him off before Kelso gets to finish the sentence, although we all understood what he was about to sat. “you two are fucking nerds” Steven sighed. “I’m not a nerd, I'm horny and Eric’s star wars talk makes me sleepy” Kelso corrects, and I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, Eric is a nerd. I bet you guys he is wearing star wars underwears” Donna’s turn to contribute to the conversation. “No i don’t, i don’t even own a pair” Eric says, but Donna looks at him, her eyes screaming “we both know you do so just admit it or i will pull your pants down and show everybody”. “Fine, I own a pair, but it’s in the laundry, so, you were wrong!” Eric admits, his voice high-pitched like it gets whenever the gang makes fun of him. Steven, Kelso and Donna burst out laughing, but I just gave Eric a comforting smile.

“You guys are fucking mean” i say, attempting to calm them down. “Says the girl who told Jackie she worships the Devil only to get her off of our back” Donna says. “Hey, That was for all of us” Eric jumps in, “and I worship (y\n) for that”. “Really? Will you sacrifice your star wars boxers for me?” i say, making everyone laugh. “(y\n)!” Eric’s high pitched voice is making a comeback. “I’m sorry, it’s just.. You make it so easy” i smile at him, “if it makes it any better, i think it’s cute how much you obsess over that movie”. “Burn!” Kelso screams, and I look at him confused. “Oh, (y\n), you don’t tell a guy he’s cute” Hyde’s laughing, and Eric seems to agree. “Yeah, i think i’m gonna quit the star wars talk for now” he declares and finally sits down. “Thanks, (y\n), i can always count on your non-existing boy skills” Donna smiles at me, and then Jackie walks in. she notices me and leaves so quick i’m pretty sure i was the only one who niticed.”Jackie then re-enter the room. “Hey babe” Hyde says and gets up to kiss his girlfriend.

“Hyde, Do you know she worships the Devil? How can you hang out with her? I’m so sick of this! Stop having her around, cause i refuse to let her sin rub all over me, i am not going to hell because you have a bad taste in friends!” Jackie says, and everyone’s looking at me, urging me to confess the truth. “Jackie-” “do not speak my name, demon!” Jackie cuts me off. “It was just a fucking prank” i reply, and she calms down. “Oh. sorry i called you a demon, you were really convincing when you painted a pentagon on the floor with blood, i’m assuming it was just paint, right?” she says as she’s taking a seat in Hyde’s lap. “oh , no, I dissected a frog that day in science and got some blood- I'm kidding! It was ketchup `` I say, quitting the gory lie once I noticed her eyes widened in shock.

Eric’s birthday is tomorrow, and I suddenly have the perfect idea. “Well, I have to go now, see you guys tomorrow” I say, getting up. Eric hugged me goodbye, and I knew i’m going to feel the exact place he touched for the whole day. A round of hugs and goodbyes (Jackie was still questioning me, so she just shook my finger, scared to touch hands that summon a demon ).

It was finally the big day - Eric’s birthday, and of course I was so smart and forgot the gift. “I’ll drop it by later” I promised to Eric, since Kitty refused to let me leave the Party. “Cool, thanks,” he replied, reaching for my shoulder’s to move me to the right so he could go talk to Donna. She’s about to leave for college tomorrow, and this party I forced Kelso to organize along with me was half a goodbye party for her, half a happy birthday Eric. Kitty had enough of her mind with Red’s heart condition, so I took over the organisation and even came by early to make him pancakes, and not toot my own horn, but at this point I don't know what he sees in Donna he doesn't see in me. Every goddamn time she breaks his heart, and every goddamn time they end up together. When she rejected his proposal, claiming that she doesn't know if they can have the future she want for herself, their relationship got awkward and they ended up breaking up for college, since she was leaving and he was staying, and when i say they decides, i mean Donna Offered so that they can date while they are far from each other. Hyde thinks they’re done for real now, but Kelso bet him a bag of “goodies” that they’ll end up sleeping together the first weekend Donna spends home. “It sucks, ha?” Kelso says, sipping on his beer. “What are you talking about?” i asked him, hoping he dosen’t mean what i think he eans, because if his idiotic ass saw right througt it, Then Eric knows for sure. “Well, you’re into Eric, who’s into Donna, much like me, who’s into Jackie who’s into stupid Hyde” kelso explains. “Shit, Does Eric know?” I sigh, and now it’s Kelso’s turn to be confused. “Knows what?” he asks me. “That i like him” i answer, “you just said it-”. “Wait, are you really into him? I was just messing with you, god” he laughs, “but you know what we should do? We should hook up to make Erick and Jackie jealous!” he says, resting his hand around my waist and pulling me closer. He closes his eyes and leans in, but I push him away before he gets to kiss me. “No, kelso, I'm not that desperate”.

Finally I get back home, take the gift and head out to the Forman’s. Eric’s window is open, as usual, however it’s less usual that he sits next to it and looks down. “I hoped you’d come” he smiled down at me. His gift was in my bag, and so I climbed up. He cleared the way and I entered his room. “Hey, sorry I ditched you at the party, it was not very cool of me” he says as I sit down on his bed. “It’s cool man, it’s your last night with Donna, you love her and all that” i reply, keeping my eyes on the wrapped gift. The paper had a space print on, and it had a card shaped like a spaceship. “No, no. I was being shitty… shity friend” Eric insisted as he joined me on his bed. No, not like that, pervs, but i kinda wish it was. I handed him the gift. “God, (nickname), this is amazing” Eric said. “You didn’t even open it” i laughed. Looking over his shoulder, excited to see his reaction to the lightsaber toy and Luke and Han solo poster, on which I glued a picture of him and me over the faces. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for him to jump up and pull me into a hug. “God, you’re the best. I’m so happy I could kiss you!” He says. “I’m so happy you’re happy, i might just let you!” i replied without thinking too much,and I was surprised when his lips met mine. He pulled away before i got the chance to sink in the feeling. “I’m sorry, that wa-” he starts, but I pull his collar to match his height and bring my lips back to his. He quickly kissed back, his fingers tightened around my waist and one of his hands brush against my stomach as he reached for my cheek to pull me closer from both my places. He spins me around without breaking the kiss, slowly bending to sit on his bed. I find a comfortable enough spot on his lap, slightly opening my mouth to hint it’s okay if he wants to turn this into a french kiss. Never really understood why they call it french kiss, aren’t they supposed to be like, polite and classy? What’s so polite and classy about having your tongue down someone’s throat? I quickly dismiss the thought since it made making out with the guy I've loved gor forever much less romantic. “je t'aime” he whispered. Looks like he was thinking about what we’re doing too.

“je t'aime too” I reply in between kisses. “Actually, you’re supposed to say je t'aime aussi” Eric says while my lips move from his to his neck, “shut up, smartass, you are ruining the moment” i say. “Make me, please, make me” he says, and since he asked so nicely, my lips move back to his.

#that 70s show #that 70s show x reader #that 70s show imagines #eric forman #eric forman x reader #eric forman imagine

433 notes · View notes

thetorturerwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Heads I Win/Tails You Lose

Summary: Silly sex games + Adam Sackler = Best date night ever?

A/N: What can I say. I love me some Sackler perversion. This is part of the LC universe for continuity but can be enjoyed as a one-shot.

This is an adult fic. 18+ only. Shameless smut. Enter at your own risk.

Words: 3.7k

“Heads,” he said, cocky and smirking, “No bra, no panties, and those tight pants I love.”

You had been playing this game since your first official ‘date.’ Adam had taken you to an arcade, won you a teddy bear, and flipped a coin for a blow job in the photo booth.

You still had the pictures.

“Tails,” you countered, knocking your knuckles on the kitchen island pensively, “MY panties and those tight pants I love. And you draw a heart on your dick.”

He chuckled, spinning the little gold coin around and around on the glossy counter top. You watched him, doing your best to keep a poker face because Adam could read you like a book. He could always tell when you needed a cuddle, a cup of tea, or a quick, hard fuck in the bathroom, any bathroom, the nearest bathroom.

All of which he was happy to supply.

“Deal.”

He flipped the coin high in the air and snapped his palm over it when it landed, inching it out to you so you could look first. He loved that you wanted to play his games, and he told you that he never wanted you to feel like he cheated, even though you suspected that fucking coin didn’t have a tails side.

You groaned and flipped off the shiny mascot head. Adam slunk around the island to crouch and wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face between your pajama-clad breasts.

“Wait,” you pushed at his shoulder until he looked up, a smirk playing on his plump lips. “Double or nothing?”

He growled into your neck, intrigued, and stood up to fake glower at you, crossing his muscular arms, and pulling a mask of seriousness over his entertained features.

“Heads edging,” you licked your lips, playing out the idea of him leaking rivers as you tormented him, “Tails...uh...over-stim?”

Adam captured your mouth on a heated kiss, sucking at your lower lip and teasing your tongue out to play with his. You slid your arms around his neck to draw him down to your height, bowing his large frame towards you.

“Deal,” he said it against your lips, pushed you a step away, and flipped again.

You wailed, loud and dramatic.

“Fuck that fucking coin.”

“It's gonna be a long night for you, Little Cunt,” he crooned it against your temple, slapped your ass, and walked off.

Post gamble, there had been some argument over the shirt you wanted to wear because Adam wanted something clingy so he could see your bra-less tits bounce and wobble, and you wanted something flowy so nobody else could see that very thing.

Ultimately, you compromised on a light, white tank under a cute, button-up blue flannel that went so well with the dark blue tight pants he wanted. He bit your fingers when you tried to button the shirt, and you resigned yourself to the fact that you were just going to have to keep closing it to cover yourself.

An hour later, you were on the train to your friend’s house for magic hour. Tossing you a bone, Adam wore the tight pants you loved, and you were absently rubbing the seam at his outer thigh as you leaned back into his chest, lulled into a relaxed state by the routine rumble of the tracks. He drove you absolutely crazy, but he also made you feel safe, the way his body naturally caged and curved around you.

His lips at your ear drew a happy sigh and smile, and you gave a wholly contented coo as he tucked your ass into his pelvis, holding you just there by those large, ever-so-helpful fingers. Wrapped up in him like this was your second-favorite place to be.

He concentrated his kisses on the space just behind and below your earlobe, the one that sent shivers and goosebumps down the length of your spine. His fingers skimmed just under the edge of your shirt, rubbing little circles into your tummy.

“Lemme see,” he nipped at your earlobe.

You harrumphed and glanced around, certain that everybody on the train was watching you, but the car was only half full of readers, people listening to music, phone junkies. Begrudgingly, you tugged the flaps of your flannel apart, showing Adam the pebbling, straining nipples poking through the thin tank.

He hummed appreciatively against your throat, lifted the low neckline of the fabric, and blew hot breath down against your already flushing skin.

“You have perfect tits, did you know that?”

Tucking his hands into your pockets, Adam rubbed his already hard cock into your ass, hips working slow and steady. Dipping his head down to your ear, he licked at the delicate shell and whispered how hard he was going to fuck you later and what a dirty thing you were to play his wicked games.

Your body loosened and melted.

It was definitely going to be a long night.

In the elevator of your friend’s building, he growled a pleased “oh fuck yeah” at the tiny, cramped, closet of a thing, mashed the button to the very top floor, and hoisted you into his arms before the door even closed.

You clung to his neck and waist as Adam pushed you into the wall and kissed you stupid. His mouth slanted eagerly over yours, licking at your lips until you granted him entry. He greedily swallowed every sound you made, coaxing more saliva, more whimpering with his sliding tongue.

Your thighs clenched around his middle when he bit and tugged at your lower lip hard, and you clawed at his scalp, having carded your fingers into his raven locks to stop them from trembling.

When you were gasping for air and rocking your body against his fervently, he spun around, set you on your feet, and pressed the button for the 3rd floor, sending you back down to the party. You clung to his shirt to re-establish some version of equilibrium, and he nuzzled your neck to help you balance.

In the kitchen, after you’d escaped his grabby hands to pour yourself a drink, Adam cornered you against the cabinets to nibble at your mouth again, lifting up to purr into your ear that he liked the way they looked all swollen and pink and he kept thinking about them wrapped around his dick.

You blushed furiously and batted at his shoulder because there was a whole other goddamn person in the room, and he was manhandling you like a touch-starved teenager. He stood across from you, arms folded against his chest, flexing his dick at you in those tight pants until you were alone.

“Fucking Christ, Adam,” you whimpered it as quietly as you could, backed into the counter top again.

He gave you his best ‘Who? Me?’ look even as he pushed your shirt up over your collarbone. You squeaked and shot up onto your toes as though you could catch your shirt and chase it back into place.

Adam’s large, warm hands blanketed both of your breasts, and you bit your lip, looking up at him helpless and beyond aroused. He squeezed and rolled your stiff nipples, tugging at the sensitive skin until you danced and arched against him. He pushed both of them together and bent down to lick a fat swath up the middle followed by a trail of kisses up your neck and, finally, to your mouth.

Before you could beg him to do something, anything more, voices drew near, and he tugged your shirt back down with an evil wink. He pushed the whiskey into your hand, bent down for another quick kiss, and led you from the room and back into the party.

On the patio, where you’d escaped for some cooler air, Adam dragged you into the darkest corner, tucked in between a power box and a drain pipe.

“Are you hiding from me,” he chided, fingers already pushing your flannel apart and raising the paltry white fabric.

You groaned loud at the cold air upon your sore tits and shook your head. He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, murmuring against your mouth that it was ok with him if you had an audience but you better hush if you didn’t want one.

Pushing his knee between your thighs, he pinned you to the wall, dipped his beautiful face down, and licked at your nipple, slow and deliberate. You tugged at the hair decorating the back of his neck, intending to move him away, but flattened your fingers against his scalp when he sucked the pert peak into the hot cavern of his mouth.

He could almost make you cum from sucking your tits, and he knew it. Switching from one to the other, he nibbled and teased and mouthed until you were whining and wiggling.

“Shit. Fuck. Adam, don’t…”

But it was too late, he was doing that thing you loved so fucking much where he rolled your nipple between tongue and teeth, sealed his lips tight around it, and let it go with a loud, slurping pop.

There was no way your friends on the patio didn’t hear it, you thought, no fucking way.

Thinking you’d surely get a moment’s reprieve, you ducked into the bathroom only for Adam to shove you the rest of the way in and follow before too many could see.

He stripped you of your shirts entirely, bent you over the cold sink, and peeled your jeans down to your knees.

“Is my Little Cunt hungry?”

He clucked it at you, eyeballing the absolute mess you'd made in your pants, and you nodded pitifully, knowing he loved it when you played your part. Adam pushed you up onto your toes, slapped at your bare ass, and buried his face in your cunt.

“Holy shit,” you moaned louder than you intended, but it was just too good.

The cold sink against your inflamed, overworked breasts was heaven. Adam’s mouth sucking on your puffy, fat pussy lips was heaven. His hands kneading and spreading your ass cheeks was heaven.

Adam himself, however, was the goddamn devil because he plied your thighs and cunt with hungry kisses, fucked your slit nice and deep with his tongue, nipped and nibbled at every square inch.

Except your clit.

“Goddamn, I can see your pussy clenching.”

He had tucked his thumb into the left labia and was tugging you open, staring directly into the most intimate part of you. It was vulgar and obscene, and you absolutely did it again for him without needing to be told.

“Mm, good girl.”

On a debauched growl, he pressed in again and tongue-fucked you until you shook and your pussy perfumed the air. You panted and whimpered, pushed your ass back against him, and squirmed to try and get him where you wanted.

You were just about to beg when there was a light knock on the door.

In the library, Adam pulled you into his lap on the love seat and dropped his hand between your legs. He again instructed you to show him your tender, perpetually hard nipples, and you tugged the tank up just enough that they peeked out.

He nuzzled your jaw, licked at your pulse, and stroked his agile, wide fingers up and down the seam of your pants, from clit to flowing cunt, over and over and over.

You clutched at his shirt and rocked your hips for him, too far gone to lascivious need to give two shits about who might hear you or walk in to see.

“I need to fuck this pretty mouth. Now.”

His voice was low and thick, and you purred at the tone, loving the command and the begging that mingled when he had spent so long turning you on that he was about to cum in his pants.

You slithered off his lap and between his legs, pushing his shirt up to pepper the taut abs with kisses. You wiggled your tongue into his belly button, mimicking the way he’d plunged into your pussy earlier.

“Sweet,” you asked coyly, roving a hungry look up the length of his body, “Or sloppy?”

He groaned and leaned forward to force a kiss on you, canting your head far to one side and fisting his fingers in your hair. You knew it drove him crazy when you said indecent things to him in such nice ways.

His dirty, dirty librarian.

“Filthy girl,” he bit at the corner of your mouth, “You can cry on my cock later. Don’t think your friends would believe I hadn’t hurt you.”

He leaned back into the cushions, popped the button on those tight, tight pants, and wrenched them down his hips enough for his hard, leaking cock to burst out, ready and waiting. Your mouth watered; and when he reached for your head, you knew this was a time-sensitive operation. He was ready to cum, and he wanted your mouth for it.

Pressing your hand into his abdomen to line him up, you licked your lips and wrapped your mouth around the thick column, burying it as far in as you could get it and settling, letting the saliva build and pool and letting your tongue and the back of your mouth get accustomed to being so pressed.

“Fu-huck, I love when you do that,” his throat bobbed, voice strained.

You purred around him, acclimated to the invasion, and pulled all the way back, letting his cock pop free of your mouth so you could gulp in a breath. Nearly all of his length was shiny now, coated with your spit, and you watched him wrap impatient fingers around the base to squeeze.

"One more time," he rasped it out, "Gimme that hot cunt of a mouth one more time."

It liquefied you to watch him embroiled in such lecherous need and to know that his relentless tormenting had him just as riled up as you.

He reached for your face, cupped your cheek, and tugged you back down to his weeping dick. He wasn’t going to make it much longer, but he was going to be primed and ready to make sure you spent the night riding lightning under him.

Parting your swollen lips, you slid his cock along the length of your flattened tongue and allowed him in as far as you could. Your fingers splayed across his jumping thighs, and your nose nudged his fingers where they were wrapped tight around the thick base.

“Nnmstaythere,” he was all want and demand now, nearly whining at how close he was.

Adam threaded fingers into your hair, palming your scalp and keeping your flushing face right where he wanted it. His hips bucked upwards, and you moaned at the smutty sound of him fucking your mouth, your heat always kicked up a notch by the profane noises.

“Guh! That’s it, baby; swallow.”

His fingers dug into your neck, and he pushed up hard into you just as you complied, swallowing around him so the roof of your mouth and tongue undulated, working him right past that edge. You hummed your praise, feeling the surge shoot up through his cock just under the skin to flood your eager throat with his hot taste.

You didn’t push at his legs until you felt the last twitch and dribble; and then, you propped yourself up on his thighs and demanded sticky kisses, which you were rewarded with.

“Goddamn you guys,” said a female voice behind you, shooting your eyes wide. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

On the train home, you had your blushing face buried so far into Adam’s neck you nearly couldn’t breathe. He thought the whole thing was hilarious and that you were, in fact, the hottest fucking thing ever, but you were so mortified that you practically sprinted out of the party.

He cajoled you out from your hiding spot by standing up abruptly. On a yelp, you shot to your feet so that you wouldn’t fall over only for him to tug you back down into his lap without your burning face buried where he couldn’t see it.

“Look, lemme take your mind off of it.”

He dug the gold coin out of his pocket and showed it to you. Your breath caught and you looked from him to it and back again.

“Heads, right now, hard, on this train.” You flushed but nodded, hoping that regardless of where or how, you were going to get fucked and soon. “Tails, nice and sweet, home in bed.”

You very nearly threw the coin out the window because hard and fast right here right now was your preference, truly, but you nodded again and waited for the flip. Even if he edged you all the way home, you would always play his game, reveling in the perversion of it with him.

Holding your breath, you watched the gold glint for a second and then leaned over to peek.

“Thank fucking god,” you grumbled, never so grateful for his bastard, trick coin.

“Double or nothing,” he quipped, and you shot to your feet.

“Adam, if you don’t fuck me in the next two minutes, I am going to find someone else who will. I swear to God.”

Your voice carried, but you truly didn’t care who heard you now. It hadn’t really registered for you that the train car was empty. It only mattered that this sex-pot of a man had edged you all night long, and you needed to be fucked. Pronto.

He chuckled darkly and stuffed the coin back into his pocket, spinning you around and bending you slightly forward over the little, brown partition. You hastily fumbled and tore your jeans open, shimmying them down your hips just enough.

When his fingers connected with your sopping, impatient pussy, you moaned in wanton need and pushed back into him, lifting onto your toes and down again to ride his touch. You whimpered, the plea in your voice evident, and you slammed your hand on the window when he stepped behind you, rubbing his hard length between the slick lips.

“This what you want, Little Cunt?”

“Jesusfuckyesplease.”

“When we get arrested,” his breath caught as he pushed into you, “I’m telling them this was your idea. Fuck.”

You nodded, ready to blindly agree with anything he said. You’d agree with the police, too, and then promptly explain that you absolutely just HAD to because he’d been driving you into dick-frenzy all night.

Gripping the little metal bar, you pushed back against him until he was sunk to the hilt in your clenching core. You bit down on your lip hard because you were already ready to shout his name, to wail and scream for him.

Adam gripped your hip in one hand and slid the other up under your shirt to palm and squeeze your breast. Finally, fucking finally, his hips began to piston forward, slamming you into the seat in front of you, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

Your face, mouth, throat fell into a mantra of yesyesyes as he buried the fat length of his rigid cock into your pliant, slippery cunt again and again. He grunted and dug his fingers into your flesh, and you hissed when his hips moved even harder, even faster.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the subway car, and you lost your fucking mind when you could hear the erotic squish of him pommeling your overflowing pussy.

Your cunt clenched and spasmed, and you keened, face scrunched up in desperation. You were right on the edge of those deep, deep orgasms only he had ever been able to conjure. Your thighs burned, your fingers and toes tingled, and your throat was dry and hoarse from all the whimpering and wailing.

“Adam,” you croaked it out, voice cracked and worn thin, “Baby please.”

He leaned into you, slithering fingers around your neck to hold you back against his chest and dipping his lips to your ear. He murmured into your ear that you should concentrate really hard, think about him sucking on your tits, about him tongue-fucking you in the bathroom, about him burying his face between your legs and lapping at your clit.

You nodded along with every filthy word, picturing all of those things and more, concentrating on your bouncing nipples, the subtle gyration of your throbbing clit, the relentless, expert plunge of Adam’s perfect cock.

Your face smoothed out as the wave crested, your mouth falling open on breathless acceptance. When you were right there, teetering on the edge of the kind of orgasm that would rattle your bones, he slipped his fingers in between the puffy, glistening lips and rubbed tight circles against your clit, fast and demanding.

“That's it. Such a needy, hungry thing. Give it to me.”

Every part of you trembled and sizzled. You’d been wound tight all evening, his wicked game keeping you right there, straddling that line. When you finally came, it was profound and thunderous and a great loosening of every muscle, joint, and nerve.

You couldn’t even shout.

On a low, pornographic moan, you pushed your ass further back into him, and your body gushed a new torrent of hot and wet, the orgasm lighting you up and giving him new convulsions and syrupy slip to play in.

You quaked, fingers gripping the silver bar tight. You held your breath because it seemed like it wasn’t going to stop, and you were so flooded that you felt it sliding down your legs to disappear into your jeans.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

Gripping your thighs, he pushed your strung out body off of his dick and pressed his forehead into your shoulder. Somewhere in your mental periphery, you knew it was because he almost came in you for the second time tonight, and he certainly had other plans.

“Shit, babe. Next stop is ours.”

He helped you button your pants and tug down your shirts, kissing your nose and telling you how cute you were when you were cock-drunk. You chuffed a laugh and shrugged.

“What can ya do,” your voice was small, still a bit unsteady. He grinned and stole another kiss.

“C’mon,” he turned and patted his shoulder, “Hop up or we’re never gonna get out of here.”

Grousing, you stood onto your toes as he crouched and wrapped your arms around his neck. He tucked his hands beneath your knees and shot to his feet just as the train doors opened.

And like the absolute gentleman that he is, Adam Sackler carried you home.

#adam sackler #adam sackler smut #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler imagines #adam sackler x you #shameless smut #filthygoddamnpervert

392 notes · View notes

renaerys · 4 years ago

Text

PPG One-Shot: Six Degrees Chiller (Brick/Blossom)

A new cute one-shot in honor of @carriedreamerx birthday! In the same high school AU as part 1, part 2, and part 3, but can totally stand-alone. Also posted on my AO3. Tune in for some laughs and some Reds cuteness!

Summary: Brick goes deodorant shopping. It doesn't end well. (Or does it??)

xxx

Brick squinted at the nine-foot shelf packed with a full color wheel of deodorants and antiperspirants. The sheer surfeit of brands and scents was as daunting to behold as it was absolutely batshit insane—how many ways did people need to not smell like a dirty gym sock?

He picked a random stick and scowled at the label as if it had offended him and all his future progeny. Who the fuck would want to smell like mango lassi?

The squeak of a shopping cart rolling down the aisle sent Brick into a febrile panic for a hot second, and he shoved the saccharine deodorant stick back onto the shelf. A geriatric woman with a hunched back, a bright head scarf, and eyes so folded over with wrinkles it was a miracle she could see anything at all wheeled her cart slowly past Brick, who froze where he stood. She smiled politely at him, and he nodded out of sheer self-preservation instinct. The moment she passed him, he yanked the bill of his red cap lower over his eyes.

“Get a grip,” he grumbled. He was an eighteen-year-old guy buying deodorant, not stool softener. He was totally casual and had absolutely no reason to be so fucking paranoid. Nobody who might recognize him was coming to Cooper’s Market at 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Brick wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and searched the shelves for what he’d come for so he could hurry up and leave. There it was, fifth shelf in a sea of sleek black and edgy, neon letters: Axe Ice Chill.

“Okay, do you consider yourself more of a music lover, sports star, gaming guru, or style icon?” Boomer had asked as he sat cross-legged on the sofa with his laptop open to the Axe “Find Your Magic” test a few months ago.

“Sports star,” Butch had said on his left, and poked the screen that wasn’t a touch-screen.

“That’s you, moron,” Brick had said, totally above this stupid test. “Pick style icon.”

Boomer grinned. “Oh yeah, your hoodies are so stylin’.” He clicked the next question. “Signature scent? Huh, maybe warm and aromatic?”

“Sounds like one of those Yankee holiday candles,” Butch had said.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

“Well, you're not exactly woody and earthy, and you’re definitely not fruity and sweet—”

“Just go to the next one.” Brick clicked on “fresh and cool” and waited for the screen to load. “Smellin’ good!” the loading page flashed at him. Jesus fucking Christ.

When the quiz presented a true or false statement, Butch moved like he had a bug up his ass and slammed the touchpad before Brick or Boomer could do anything about it.

Boomer tried not to laugh. “Dude, come on.”

“Please, he’s a punk-ass dweeb who’d never make the first move in a fight, let alone on a girl—” Butch had taunted.

Brick punched him in the throat with his Super speed and smiled at the sound of his asshat brother gagging. “Choke and die, motherfucker.”

Butch wheezed as he laughed through the pain, and Brick and Boomer breezed through the more generic age and appearance questions: under 18, long hair (“Mane Man!” the quiz gushed, and Brick almost melted Boomer’s laptop right there), and natural look. After an artificially anticipatory loading screen, a picture of a dude with a clown nose crowd surfing in a sepia Instagram filter appeared on the screen with the generic “Be your best self!” encouragement in blocky letters superimposed upon it, and finally the expert, personalized recommendation for Brick’s body spray needs.

“Because you’re hotter when you’re chill.” Brick had cringed when he read that idiotic tagline the first time, and he cringed reading it again now in the deserted personal hygiene aisle where he prayed no one would find him buying this cry-for-help vanity spritz.

However.

He sprayed a bit of mist in the air and reveled in that cool, icy scent that wasn’t a scent so much as a feeling. Six degrees chiller in a bottle. The first time he’d tried it (under great duress), he’d griped and bitched and slammed his bedroom door to get away from his howling brothers. Settled on his bed with a frown, he had to admit it did cool him off. It was almost pleasant. The smell wasn’t overwhelming like that tiger piss Butch bathed in on the daily. But it wasn’t out of this world compared to the generic shit he’d been using before.

It wasn’t until Blossom sneezed on their way out of AP Lit that her ice breath—and understanding—hit him with the force of a cold snap to the balls.

“Sorry, did I get you?” she’d said, abashed as she covered her mouth with one hand and fished out a bottle of Purell from her messenger bag with the other. Her ice splatter fast melted on his shoulder as his too-warm body absorbed the cold with a bizarre, but extremely pleasant, shiver down his spine.

Son of a bitch, but he had a kink.

Which, of course, spiraled way the hell out of control when he found himself here months later with a recycled shopping bag he’d brought so he could carry the three bottles of Axe Ice Chill he planned to purchase home, because Brick planned ahead and liked to keep his bathroom well-stocked.

Which also, of course, was why at that very moment, fate decided to punch him in the dick.

“Bubbles, you have, like, fourteen bottles of shampoo at home! You don’t need another one,” Buttercup groused at 8 in the goddamned morning on a Sunday.

“Those are all different products, not just shampoo. Honestly, Buttercup.” Bubbles zipped into the aisle with Buttercup on her tail just at the moment Brick had his second panic attack in the span of five minutes and completely lost his shit.

He launched the bottle of Axe Ice Chill so hard into the ceiling that it lodged in there tighter than a prairie-dogging turd.

“Brick?” Blossom’s hand on his shoulder nearly sent him yeeting after his abused body spray, if the sheer mortification didn’t rob him of further motor function and exactly one hundred percent of his brain cells.

Like her sisters, she wore a jacket over her pajama pants. They must have just popped over for some last-minute breakfast staples and a side of peer humiliation. But even in those criminally hideous Ugg boots and five boxes of pancake mix in her shopping basket at 8 on a fucking Sunday morning, her smile glowed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he returned lamely, because that was all she was getting from him until his neurological functions rebooted.

“Hi, Brick,” Buttercup said, suspicious like usual and searching for some excuse to bust his balls for a laugh. “What’re you doing here?”

The Super sisters had cornered him in front of the Teen Spirit, which came in an absolutely frightful eighteen scents because there was nothing pubescent teenagers needed more than eighteen reassurances that their social survival depended on smelling like a potpourri candy bar.

“Shopping, obviously,” Bubbles said. “Ooh, Brick, you have straight hair. What do you think?” She held up two bottles of brightly colored free-range, organic hair shit.

“I think I was just leaving,” he managed.

“Empty-handed?” Buttercup peered at him like he might transform into a literal dick with ears if she only managed not to blink for long enough. He could smell the threat of a joke on her.

“They didn’t have the brand I wanted.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bubbles said, genuinely stricken.

“Girls, let’s get going. I really want those pancakes,” Blossom said.

“We better grab more syrup. Buttercup finished it all,” Bubbles said, already moving away. She dropped both hair products in Blossom’s basket, not bothering to choose between them.

“Oh please, everybody knows you and the Professor are the syrup fiends in this house.” Buttercup floated after her and waved to Brick. “Hey, tell that shithead to answer my texts. He owes me $20.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said, fully intending not to mention anything about this conversation to Butch at all.

“Sorry about your favorite brand being sold out,” Blossom said.

It’s fine, he would have said had she not caught his cheek in her hand and pressed a frosty kiss to the corner of his lips before he could do anything about it. Frozen fernlings crept over his cheek and chin, down his neck, and slowly absorbed through his now flushed skin, and he shivered. Without even thinking about it, he reached for her, but she was already walking away to catch up with her sisters.

When she got to the end of the aisle, she shot him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and had the nerve to wink at him. “Stay cool, Brick.”

Red in the face and high on her, Brick just stood there like an idiot gawking at his kind of unofficial girlfriend and the singular dominating object of his fantasies, be they sexual or otherwise. What was dignity when she smiled at him like that? What was a paltry imitation in a bottle when she kissed him like that?

The paltry imitation fell from its hole in the ceiling and exploded on the tiled floor at Brick’s feet with a winter ferocity that, in that moment at least, rivaled Blossom’s in the heat of battle.

When Brick got home later that morning and Boomer asked him why he smelled like a snowman’s asshole, Brick burned the clothes on his back and spent the next half hour in the shower thinking about how he was going to convince Blossom to make the first move and finally make them official.

xxx

Y��all better appreciate the research that went into this fic. That Axe quiz is real and I took it pretending to be Brick, and it literally does spit out a photo of a dude wearing a clown nose in a club. If that’s not a sign from the Daddy that I’ve chosen the righteous path, then idk what is. Sacrifices to my Chrome search history were made for this fic in the name of celebrating Carrie, ergo, worth it.

#Blossick #PPG Reds #Blossom #Brick #Powerpuff Girls #PPG Fanfic #Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction #february fic prompts #ppg shook

50 notes · View notes