#sorry my love but the top half paired with the khaki pants just do not work for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The KCSC sent more than 20K requests to delete posts related to prostitution and porn to Tumblr from January to June 2017.

#sorry my love but the top half paired with the khaki pants just do not work for me

celestialprincesse · 3 months

Note

Can you please do an anemic reader on who her lack of red blood cells are getting worse enough that she has to be hospitalized?! And we have to see soaps reaction?!

OHH He shits his pants

It's a routine blood draw, nothing you're not used to. Just a cell count to make sure everything's working properly and that your supplements don't need to have their dosage increased.

"So this here is the red blood cells.." The nurse drones as you sit in one of the consultancy rooms of the local hospital, chin resting in the crook of your palm. "They're low enough that we'll need to keep you in for a couple of days for an iron transfusion and monitoring before and after."

"I'm sorry?" You choke, snapped from your reverie as you look at the nurse and your results paper she currently points at.

"It's really nothing to worry about. We'll keep a good eye on you, you'll probably be in for three days, tops." "No but I have work." The woman across from you looks frustrated at your resistance as she raises an eyebrow your way. "I'd really strongly advise you not to go back to work like this. It'll only exacerbate your condition." "Right. Fine. Can I just make a call quick? Get my boyfriend to swing by with some essentials." "This isn't prison. You can call who you like when you like."

You tap your foot anxiously on the linoleum floor of the hallway as the phone rings persistently, waiting for Johnny to pick up.

"Bonnie! How'd it go?" John's Scottish brogue still manages to send flutters to your tummy, even after three years of dating and just having received bad news.

"They're keeping me in for a few days." The anxiety in your voice is obvious, and John can practically picture you worrying at your bottom lip.

"Why? Wha' happened?" "Just a really low red blood cell count. They're going to monitor and do a transfusion on Wednesday. I was wondering if you could bring me some stuff? Toothbrush and pyjamas and whatnot?" "Course I'll bring ye a bag. Text me what ye need and I'll be there in a half hour." "Thank you Johnny." "You dinnae need to thank me. I love ye, bringin' a bag is nothing." "Well, thank you anyways."

Johnny must've sped with how quickly he gets to the hospital, conveniently sporting his tags on the outside of his khaki hoodie and a pair of military issue boots. If his charm isn't enough to wriggle the visiting hours around, his job most certainly is.

You give a little soft 'Hi' and he's already dropping a black duffel to his feet, scooping you up, trying to ease the tension from your back by rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades.

"Bought all yer things. Clean clothes, washbag, laptop, chargers." "You're an angel." "Am no, 'm just very worried for my woman."

205 notes · View notes

shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

If the World is Ending, I Want to Fuck You First

Summary: You need to do one last thing during the zombie apocalypse.

Pairing: Kyle Orfman (MGG character in Life After Beth) x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

Content/Warnings: swearing, smut, blowjob, praise kink, sub!kyle, gun violence (used against zombies), vaginal sex, choking, fluffy ending (let me know if i missed anything)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: okay i know this is a lesser famous mgg character but i beg of you to give this fic a try because i think it’s my best smut yet and i love the ending. you don’t need to have watched the movie to understand (i give a few visuals).

Masterlist

“Open the goddamn door, Jacob,” you pounded on your ex’s door, “I want my shit back.”

A car with sirens pulled up in the driveway. Great, you thought, the cops. But when you turned around, it was just an old tan sedan with ‘Briarwood Security’ written on it.

You turned back around, “Jacob, I know you’re fucking home, you cheating son of a bitch.

“What seems to be the problem here?” a tall, lean man with a slicked back undercut dressed in a beige security uniform approached the front door.

“My cheating ex won’t give me my stuff back,” you continued to pound at the door, “I have a laptop in there!”

He sighed and spoke quietly, “This is technically still trespassing because he didn’t necessarily steal it but let me see what I can do.”

“Jacob Peterson,” he knocked on the door, “This is Briarwood Security. I need you to open the door or I have the clearance to break it down.”

He whispered to you, “I actually don’t,” and you giggled.

Jacob swung open the door with your bag of stuff.

“Take your crap and go,” he shoved the bag into your arms.

“Gladly, asshole,” you checked to make sure everything was in there.

You nodded to the security guard and Jacob slammed the door once again.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked, noticing your lack of a car.

“I live like a mile away so I just walked here but yeah, if you don’t mind, that would be great,” you accepted.

He opened the trunk for you to put your bag of belongings inside.

“Kyle,” you hummed, looking at his little name tag.

“And you are?”

“Y/N,” you stuck out your hand for him to shake and he accepted it.

“Kyle, I have a proposition for you,” you said as you entered the passenger side of the car.

“Okay…” he looked at you.

“Let me suck your dick.”

Kyle stared straight at you for a minute, not moving.

“Hello?” you asked, waving your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he snapped out of his daze.

“Let me suck your dick,” you repeated, “I don’t want his,” you pointed to Jacob’s door, “to be the last dick I sucked and I want him to see your car still parked out here, knowing exactly what we are doing. Plus, you get an orgasm out of it.”

“I’m on the job,” he tried to resist.

“If you really don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m not trying to pressure you. I just think this could be a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Kyle nodded, putting the car in reverse and starting to back out of the driveway. He made it about halfway before he braked and put the car back in park.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Please,” he begged.

You looked down and as your eyes adjusted to the evening darkness, you could see the obvious bulge strain in his khakis.

You leaned over the center console, untucking his uniform and unbuckling his belt. You slowly unzipped his fly to tease him as he squirmed underneath you.

“Patience, my sweet boy” you hummed and your warm breath fanned out across his dick.

His needy whines were beautiful. You sat back up and removed your shirt, leaving you in just a lacy bralette.

“Please,” he pleaded again.

“Because you asked so nicely,” you leaned back down and licked a long strip up from the base of his dick to the tip, swirling your tongue at the top.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands moving to your hair.

“Hands off,” you ordered and he whined but complied.

You took him in inch by inch. He was certainly the biggest you’ve ever been with. You gagged when he bottomed out in your throat.

You could feel him using all his self-control to restrain his hands to his side.

You bobbed your head up and down, taking up a quick pace. His melodic groans filled the car.

“I’m gonna-” he panted, “Can I please cum?”

“Yes, you’ve been such a good boy for me, baby. Let go. You can touch me now,” you spoke.

His hands moved to your hair just as his hips bucked up, shooting his load into your mouth. You accepted it all with a moan and swallowed.

You took a few more gentle sucks before releasing him from your mouth. As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, Kyle stared at you adoringly.

“Ummm, thank you? I’m not really sure what to say,” he finally spoke.

“Just drive,” you laughed.

You woke up to a loud crashing sound coming from downstairs. You reached for your cell but it was dead even though it was plugged in. The power must have gone out. You grabbed your emergency battery-powered flashlight from underneath your bed and your bottle of pepper spray.

You quietly snuck down the stairs but when you turned the corner, you came face-to-face with your old kindergarten teacher who died a couple of years ago. She was definitely dead but still walking somehow. You screamed as she tried to grab you as you ran for the door.

You burst out of the door to see the street crawling with zombies of dead people you used to know. You ran towards the direction of the police station. You got about a half a mile until the deceased retired high school football coach tackled you to the ground.

You fought and kicked and screamed, trying to avoid him biting you. You thought it was over until you heard the sound of a gunshot and the zombie limply collapsed on top of you. You pushed it off with a yelp.

A hand reached down to help you up, you looked up to see Kyle standing there in a slightly bloody orange jumpsuit.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded slowly.

“We should get off the street but I’ve cleared this whole neighborhood so we should be okay,” he grabbed your hand.

You looked down at your interlocked hands, “I don’t know if it’s just the adrenaline talking but if the world is ending, I want to fuck you first.”

Kyle smiled softly, “It would be a hell of a last memory but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He pulled you towards his house and jumped the fence to his backyard.

“I don’t think zombies can climb,” he said, looking up at his childhood treehouse.

“This is a first,” you laughed softly as you headed up the ladder with Kyle right behind you.

“I can feel your eyes staring at my ass,” you said as you climbed the ladder.

“It’s right in front of me! Where do you want me to look?” he defended himself.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” you smirked.

Immediately upon crawling into the treehouse, your lips were on his.

“How do you want it, baby?” you whispered into his ear.

“Ride me, please,” he whined.

You put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the wooden floor. You unzipped his jumpsuit hastily, ripping your shirt and shorts off in the process.

You released his dick from the confines of his tight black boxers and stroked it a couple of times.

“You ready?” you asked as you lined yourself up above him.

“Yes,” he nodded enthusiastically.

You sank down on his dick, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. Kyle’s head fell back in pure pleasure.

You wrapped a tentative hand around his neck, only applying more pressure when his moans increased in volume.

His hips were bucking up to meet yours at a ferocious pace.

“Ah fuck! I think I just got a splinter in my ass,” he yelped.

“Shhh baby, you can take it. You’re fucking me so good, my sweet boy,” you continued to ride him and guided his hands up to your boobs.

Kyle groaned at the praise, “I’m close-God, I’m so close.”

“Give me a few more seconds. I know you can, baby,” you frantically rubbed your clit in order to finish with him.

“Okay, fill me up like a good boy,” you whispered into his ear.

Kyle’s hands grappled at your hips as he bucked up into you one last time. As you both came down from your highs, you collapsed on top of him.

The two of you just laid like that for a while. Catching your breath while soaking up the skin-to-skin contact.

“You know I was going to go back to your apartment and ask you on a date? You know…before the whole world went to shit. Besides giving me the best blowjob of my life, you just seemed like a really cool, beautiful girl,” Kyle admitted.

“Too bad you didn’t get the chance, I would have said yes.”

“Can I leave you here for just a second?” he asked quietly.

You hugged him closer, “I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Well, I would prefer it if you stayed up here where I know it’s safe. I need to get supplies and I’m armed,” he reasoned with you.

“Promise you’ll come back,” you had tears in your eyes.

“I promise,” he held out his pinky and you wrapped yours around it, both of you kissing your fists.

You and Kyle got redressed and you watched him climb down the ladder and head into his house with his gun fully loaded. And then, you waited. You counted the seconds. You were at 381 when he finally returned.

“Thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief.

He started to unpack the bag he brought with him. He pulled out a blanket and set it on the floor for you both to sit on. Then, pillows. Next, he pulled out leftover cold pizza.

“Ah, gourmet,” you jokingly smiled.

He pulled out red solo cups and placed one in between you both, putting in a rose he plucked from his mom’s rose bush.

Finally, he pulled a very expensive bottle of whiskey from the bag and filled your cups.

“My dad was saving this for a special occasion, I think zombies coming back from the dead and the world ending qualifies,” he grinned.

The world didn’t end. In fact, you were just starting your new life with your future husband.

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187

#no minors please #mgg fic #mgg smut #mgg x you #mgg x reader #mgg oneshot #mgg fluff #kyle orfman #life after beth #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader

210 notes · View notes

sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

Text

[11:25]

pairing. florist!jaehyun x reader genre. flower shop!au, meet cute!au, strangers to lovers!au, fluff

author’s note. thank you @jeongvision for writing that review on all of jaehyun’s scents-- without it, this little timestamp wouldn’t exist.

[11:25] You walk into the flower shop with the idea of buying flowers to bring in some color to your bland apartment. You’ve been around a week and a half and yet, your new place doesn’t feel much like a home. There’s nothing lively about it and you, on the other hand, are an extremely lively person. The bell attached to the door rings and someone from the back room calls out, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

The many scents hit your nose but it’s not overwhelming— it’s actually extremely calming for you. Flower shops have always had the ability to calm you down. They give you a sense of peacefulness. The quiet bossanova music playing through the speakers allow you some time to just stop and enjoy the simple things.

Many times have you passed this store but this is the first time you had the opportunity to step inside. Your fingers carefully brush against the flower petals, loving the way the fresh plants tickling your hand.

“Sorry for making you wait,” the same voice says from behind. You turn and oh.

The floral scents emitting from the flowers were not overwhelming but the sight before you is. You may be in a flower shop but the most beautiful flower is standing in front of you with the gentlest smile. The male with dazzling brown eyes wore the simplest outfit: a dark blue apron layered on top of a white button up and khaki pants. The loose sleeves were neatly rolled up just below his elbow, highlighting the pretty cream of his skin tone before drawing your attention to the freshly made flower-crown he held in his hands.

His smile blooms as you continue to stare, almost like you’re starstruck at the beauty in front of you. “Welcome to Love Song— my name’s Jaehyun. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Um— uh, no, I was just looking,” you managed to stutter out. Just looking indeed; you came for the flowers but your sight could not leave the gorgeous man with the stunning smile.

Jaehyun’s grin grows even more as he steps closer to you. You catch a whiff of white florals and musk. There’s a sense of elegance and charm in the scent and the way he presents himself. “Right, well, if there’s anything I can do for you, I’ll be right behind the counter.”

Yeah, can you please stop smiling at me like that? you think to yourself.

“Oh, sorry?” he says in confusion as he hangs the flower crown in the front display.

“Huh?”

“I won’t smile at you if that’s what you want?” Jaehyun replies, his back facing you as he fixes the bouquets in the front window.

“Oh my god, did I say that out loud?” you gape.

“Yes?” comes his reply.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you apologize, mentally slapping yourself. Your habit of thinking out loud always got you into awkward moments. With your body radiating heat out of sheer embarrassment, you quickly turn yourself away before rushing out the door.

“Hey, wait!” the cute florist calls out but he was already too late for you had bolted out of his shop. With a slight pout, Jaehyun watches your back as you retreat to the apartment complex down the street.

Jaehyun sighs, not because he missed a chance to make a sale. He sighs because he lost the chance to finally talk to the beautiful stranger that admired his displays every single day for the past week.

He hopes to see you again.

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #this is based on emily's reviews of jaehyun's perfumes sdkhsdfds #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun timestamp #nct x reader

266 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

A Beach Day to Remember {Clyde Logan x Reader}

author’s notes: made it just under the wire for this week’s writer wednesday :) it’s a bit different from my usual writing MO, but I honestly had a blast with it and I’m decently pleased with how it turned out, actually. I wrote this late at night while I was half-asleep lol so sorry if it’s a little all over the place! thanks, as always, to @autumnleaves1991-blog for hosting & @clydesducktape for helping out! it’s such a great and fun weekly tradition!

warnings: fluff. humor. romance. beach fun. chair wrestling. a quick lil makeout session (nothing explicit).

no tw’s :)

word count: 2.2k

clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @safarigirlsp @babbushka

By some miracle, you’d convinced born-and-raised country boy Clyde Logan to accompany you to Miami Beach for a week. A whole week, you couldn’t believe it.

And...he actually bought a pair of swim trunks. Sure, they were a West Virginia Walmart buy, but hey, he bought a pair; you’ll take what you can get.

Who was this man and what has he done with Clyde Logan?

He’s never really been to the beach before, Mamma Logan didn’t like bein’ in the sun too long and Pappa wasn’t about to cross her, so this was his first time.

Your family used to vacation here every year, so you were relatively familiar with the notoriously rowdy town. The first evening and night consisted of you showing a wide-eyed Clyde around Miami’s bustling night life. But, when the sun came up the next morning, he was revving to get down to the beach.

You had to talk him down a bit there at first, convincing him to eat somethin’ for breakfast before spending a whole entire day in the sun ‘cause if he passes out, he’s on his own getting back to the condo.

“I’m gon’ go get changed fer the beach!” He says excitedly, clapping his hands together and doing a little jog over to the dresser the second you two get back from your sidewalk cafe breakfast.

You smile at his enthusiasm, trying to remember the last time you saw him so openly excited and smiley. After only a few moments of thought, you realize that you’ve never seen him quite like this before. But, you’re certainly taking a liking to vacation Clyde.

Both Mellie and Jimmy requested plenty of photos of, and this is a direct quote, “Clyde’s long, pasty-ass legs in swim shorts”, and you’re nothing if not accommodating...

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom, you quickly say “Smile!” and snap a picture of him in his leaf-pattern hunter green trunks. He frowns, striding over to where you’re standing.

“Hey now pumpkin, who’re ya sendin’ that off to?”

You giggle, typing out his sibling’s contacts into your messages. “Nobody...”

His eyes widen when he sees Jimmy and Mellie’s names. He tries to grab the phone away from you, but as he takes it, his palm accidentally nudges the little ‘send’ icon.

“G’damnit! I fuckin’ sent it to ‘em!”

You’re cracking up as he frantically tries to somehow un-send the message, despite you trying to repeatedly convince him that there’s literally nothing that can be done at this point; the message is permanent.

Almost immediately, the replies begin to pile in and Clyde quickly puts a hand over his face as your phone chimes continuously.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“‘m never gonna hear the end ‘a this when we get back home.” He groans. “Now they got that picture forever and they’re never gonna stop showin’ it...Oh ma god, they’re gonna put it in our weddin’ slideshow, a-and our future kids ‘re gonna see it, and it’s gonna be shown at ma funeral...”

You laugh, shaking your head as you put your hands on his bare, freckle-painted chest. “Hon, I really wouldn’t worry that much about it. It’ll all blow over in a little bit, I promise. Plus, I now have evidence that you actually came to the beach with me. I have a feeling our future kids won’t believe me when I tell them this story someday.”

Clyde starts laughing, running his hands down the curve of your body before landing on your hips. He pulls you in for a kiss, moving his lips gently against yours.

Your face scrunches when he starts licking into your mouth and the bitter taste of zinc overwhelms your taste buds.

“Mmmm, mmm, Clyde?”

He pulls away, brows furrowed.

“Did you put some zinc on your lips?”

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away bashfully. “Oh, yeah, I did. ‘m sorry, I forgot ‘bout that.”

“It’s alright, no need to apologize.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “I love you.”

He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead this time, rather than your lips.

“Love ya too, pumpkin.”

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

Clyde’s like a kid at a candy store when he gets down to the beach, quickly putting the cooler down on the sand and dropping his chair down next to it. The sunglasses sit just above the bridge of his zinc-whitened nose as his head moves around to drink in the sights unfolding before him.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him, setting your beach bag down with the cooler before beginning to set up your chair. But your man quickly jumps in and insists on unfolding the chair for you even though, as you’ll soon find out, he has zero idea how to operate a folding beach chair. To be fair, it was one of those older-fashioned ones that had sustained quite a bit of rust.

“Now, how in the world...?” He grumbles, trying to unfold the stubborn thing. He tries just about every method he could think up, at one point he was trying to use his flip-flop equipped foot to aid in the unfolding process, but he still cannot get the damn chair open.

Eventually, a curious (and very entertained) bystander comes over and helps the two of you out with your chairs, and both of you thank them profusely before finally beginning your day at the beach. Clyde remains standing, continuing to look around at all the things happening on the beach while you lay back and open your book to begin reading.

After a bit of sunning time, you and Clyde head down to the water. You keep your feet in the cool water while he stands further in, little waves crashing mid-calf. He finds a nice shell and runs up to put it back at your little setup while you stay and watch as the natural push and pull of the ocean slowly buries your feet in the sand.

Suddenly, a flesh arm comes on your back and a metallic arm scoops behind your knees, lifting you up as you squeal.

“Clydeeee!”

He laughs, rushing into the water while holding you bridal-style, water splashing up all over both you and him with each of his massive strides. As soon as he knows he’s deep enough, he starts swinging you back and forth.

“One...Two...”

You’re in a fit of laughter, playfully hitting his chest. “Noooooo! Stooopppp!”

“Three!” Clyde tosses you into the blue-green water of the Atlantic as you screech, a big splash accompanying your collision with the surface.

You emerge a moment later, quickly rushing up and jumping into his arms, causing him to fall backwards into the water. He laughs when he resurfaces and splashes you in the face teasingly, to which you respond by doing the exact same thing.

“No more splashin’!” He says, chuckling to himself at the irony of his exclamation.

You laugh, splashing him one more time. “You’re the one that started it, you goof!”

“Now, let’s not play the blame game, pumpkin.” He smiles jokingly, then wraps his arms around your torso, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Both of you spend a bit more time in the water before heading back up to your chairs to dry off in the sun and re-apply sunscreen. Clyde ends up falling asleep, a few shells he found in the water spread out on the top of his thighs as he snoozes.

Only about fifteen minutes later, you look over and put a hand over your mouth to cover the giggles that come when you see that one of the shells has sprouted some legs in preparation for an escape attempt. The creature begins crawling and he starts squirming a bit at the ticklish sensation, clearly beginning to re-awaken from his early afternoon slumber.

When his eyes blink open and he looks down, he gasps, launching backwards in his chair. Unfortunately, the old-school beach chair already struggles to hold his massive form, so when he jumps back, the chair gives out and breaks clean in half, sending Clyde back into the sand.

The poor crab is thrust into the sand, but it’s alright, quickly crawling back towards the ocean. You immediately stand up, trying not to laugh too hard until you know he’s completely alright.

“Oh my fuck...Clyde! Are you okay, hon?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “’m alright, though I can’t say the same for this here chair, though.”

You giggle, helping him sit back up in the sand. When he’s fully sat up, he’s still smiling and laughing, shaking his head.

“Well, I suppose I owe the condo owners a new beach chair.”

A full, active day at the beach has you pretty fucking exhausted when you two finally head back up to the condo around four in the afternoon. You take a quick cat nap while Clyde showers, then you hop in and wash off the day’s sunscreen and sand.

While you’re in the shower, Clyde rifles through his duffle and pulls out a little velvet box, popping it open to expose the glittering diamond ring that sits on a little pillow. He smiles at the sight, knowing that tonight’s the night he’s finally gonna ask you to be his forever.

He’s been waiting for the right moment for a short while now, and after the fun y’all had at the beach today and the sunset beach walk he’s planning to take you on before your fancy dinner reservations later this evening...he can’t think of a more perfect time to do it.

You step out of the bathroom and Clyde scrambles to quickly tuck the ring box into his khaki pants pocket. He smooths his hands over the fabric before standing up, face breaking out into a wide smile when he sees the beautiful sundress you’ve got on.

“You’re so beautiful, pumpkin.” He says, smiling as he walks up to you, hands on your hips. “Always so, so beautiful.”

Your expression stretches into a bright, genuine smile as you get up on your tiptoes for a kiss. “Thank you, Clyde. You look awfully handsome yourself this evening.”

“Oh, well, thank ya, darlin’.” His cheeks grow red as he looks down for a moment, shoving his hands down in his pockets. “So, do ya wanna go on a sunset walk ‘fore our reservations?”

You agree, and the two of you head back down to the beach. His fingers fiddle with the little box in his pocket as you walk along the beach. Soon, you reach an old lifeguards stand, painted in brilliant mint green and flamingo pink colors. The ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ paint is still visible, even after some seeming wear and tear to the outside of the building.

The sun’s touching down on the horizon line as he guides you up onto the old structure’s small front deck, and you lean over the railing together as the sun sinks down.

Your head turns to look over at your beloved boyfriend, admiring the way the sherbet sky reflects off of and compliments his alabaster skin. God he’s beautiful, you think to yourself for what has to be the millionth time in your three years of dating Clyde. He’ll forever be the most beautiful man in your eyes.

He turns to you then, standing up with a shaky hand reaching out to take yours. “Uh, Y/N, there’s somethin’...somethin’ I wanna do ‘fore we head off to dinner.”

You nod, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sure, hon. Are you alright, though? You’re shaking a bit.”

“’m alright, pumpkin.”

Clyde nods and then, he sinks down onto one knee, wobbling a bit as he adjusts to the new position. He steadies shortly after and then, he pulls the box out of his pocket and opens it up, exposing the ring he spent hours picking out for you.

You’re in shock, hands over your mouth as he smiles up at you, tears already forming in his eyes.

“Y/N, I-I knew when I first met ya that you were gon’ be the woman I wanted to s...spend the rest of ma life with. Y-Yer so funny ‘n kind ‘n so, so beautiful; yer just...yer perfect, p-pumpkin.”

You feel the tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes as he continues, tears now running down his cheeks as well.

“I love y-ya more than life itself, Y/N, an’ I...I wanna spend the rest of ma livin’ days on this planet by yer side. Will ya...will ya marry me?”

Time seems to stand still for Clyde, then, his nerves overwhelming and overtaking his entire being. The seconds between his final word and your response are some of the longest and most anxious seconds of his life, but damnit, they were well worth it.

“Yes, Clyde, yes. O-Of course I’ll marry you.” You say, smiling as he stands to pull you in for a passionate kiss.

He’s overjoyed, really, heart racing but in the best possible way. You said yes. You’re gonna be his wife, his Mrs. Logan.

“God, I love ya.” Clyde whispers against your lips, pulling the ring from its place on the delicate pillow. “I love ya so, so much, Y/N.”

“I love you t-too, Clyde.” You smile, holding your left hand out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you immediately pull him in for a hug. “I can’t wait to marry you, hon, can’t wait to become Mrs. Logan.”

He grins widely, pressing another few kisses onto your lips.

“Mrs. Y/N Logan, ma beautiful wife, ma forever partner.”

You nod, sniffling softly.

“Your forever partner.”

66 notes · View notes

honey-subs · 4 years

Note

Hi baby! I have a request for Minho from SKZ Basically is about corruption kink😳 he’s shy, insecure and super subby, so his experience in sex is non existent(as mine lol) but there is this girl that is the opposite who didn’t lost the chance to fuck him, please include fingering, rimming and a little bit of degradation, also make him wear glasses, i have a thing for that🥵thank u so much, i love your blog🥺❤️ you are amazing

study - lee minho

a/n — sub!minho, dom!reader, this is out of character for minho, corruption kink, handjobs, degrading, etc.

a/n — left out a few things because i thought they were a bit much for first times, i hope you still enjoy it, though!!

minho didn’t know what to think when the teacher paired him up with you for a project. you weren’t exactly known to be incredibly nice, quite the opposite.

you were more so known for your player ways, along with breaking people’s hearts. people always did their best to stay away from you, but something about you always drew them in.

minho was chewing his lip the whole time you were talking to him. “we could do the project at my place. here’s the address and my number.” you muttered, quickly scribbling the numbers on a small piece of paper and leaving him with his own thoughts.

you’re on his mind for the rest of the day, durning classes, lunch, and even as he’s getting his things from his locker to go home. he’d always wondered why people were always attracted to even when they knew of your reputation, but now, he was sure he understood. there was something about you that just instantly draws him in.

‘coming over in 30 min, that okay?’ he texted you as he got into his car, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. ‘that’s fine, i have the materials here.’ you texted back in less than two minutes. he hummed to himself as he started his car, and began the drive to your house.

it was a fairly long drive, and he found himself wondering why you’d drive half an hour just to go to the school downtown when another was closer. maybe it was something he could ask you soon.

soon enough the drive the drive was over and he had made it to your house. he didn’t know what he expected, but it hadn’t been this.

your house was extremely grand, secure, and decorated. he was sure his jaw had dropped once he saw it, and he became a bit self concious of his nerdy attire in such a grand setting, but did his best to brush it off anyway.

he eyed his bag of books that sat in the vacant passengers seat. he grabbed them quickly before he began to overthink his current situation and back out.

he stepped out of his car, and entered the gate that he assumed to be left open because you knew he was coming. he knocked on the door a few times and waiting obediently and patiently for someone to open the door.

it wasn’t any surprise you him that you were the one to open the door. you both exchanged a small and very awkward ‘hello’ at the doorway before you step aside and let him in.

“would you like something to drink or eat before we start the project?” you asked, attempting to break the ice. “uh, water is fine, please.” he says, and it’s barely above a whisper but you catch it. you nod your head once and go to fix him a glass of water.

you hand it to him and he takes it and thanks you in the soft voice he used before. “so, for the project, i was thinking maybe we could rip bits of old news paper to create almost a nostalgic feel to it? maybe even add the decorative words on the front, but maybe we could even use some of our combined research from the last project on the inside....? if all of that it okay with you, of course.” he rushes at the end, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“of course, baby. i’ll go get the newspaper.” you murmur, patting his thigh as he tried to fight the blush on his cheeks. you didn’t mean to flirt with him, but once you did, it was fun to see him get flustered. you smirked to yourself once he couldn’t see you anymore, already formulating a plan to see how long you could keep him flustered and blushy.

he’s still red when you come back with the newspaper, legs bouncing quickly. “t-thank you...” he murmurs when you hand it to him. he slides off of your porcelain couch and into his knees, you had to keep from staring at him. the sight was seemingly innocent, but much more in your eyes. there he was, in his knees, looking up through his round glasses at the newspaper.

you grinned to yourself and shook your head to get rid of the sinful thoughts. the project ends up going fast, and throughout, you realize minho i has a lot more personality than you originally thought. he had a great sense of humor, when he wasn’t speaking in nerd-talk, that is. both you had him had a lot in common, which was surprising considering you’re on the opposite ends of the school spectrum.

it was unheard of for your to even think this, but you were kind of ready for the project to move faster so you could have extra time to spend talking to minho. “minho, i thought you were at the top of the class. what is this?” you voice, possibly a bit too harsh. and you think about apologizing, but your thoughts change drastically when you take one look at minho an see how hard he’s blushing. “s-sorry.” he whispers, crossing his legs over one another.

your frown of dismay was replaced with one of sin as you looked at him, and his innocent eyes looked back, seemingly not-so-innocent. “minho, uncross your legs.” you tell him, setting the project town to turn towards him. his eyes widened and he adverted his gaze, cheeks brightening even more. “minho i said, spread your legs.” the dominance that practice dripped from your voice was enough to have a shiver run up his spine.

slowly, he does what you say and uncrosses his legs. spreading them a bit so you could see what he was trying to hide. there was a clear bulge in his khakis, and he seemingly got even shyer under your prying eyes.

it’s like he’s under your spell, because soon enough he’s following your every command. “come here.” you muttered, not taking your eyes off the boy. he slides from his spot over to you, now sitting beside you and still looking down at his hands.

you could practically hear his heart beating in his chest when you use the delicate tips of your fingers to tilt his face up towards your own, and planting a small kiss on his lips. you pull away quickly afterwards, and he practically has stars in his eyes. his lips chase your when you pull away too, wanting eagerly to press his lips against yours again.

he whimpers into your mouth as you continue. you grab his thigh, and pull him into your lap so that his back was against your chest. “wha-“ his words were cut off with a whimper when your lips attached to his neck.

your hands roamed down his white button up and to his khakis, palming him over the tan-colored material. “mm, the schools golden boy.” you murmured as you undid his belt.

he lifted his hips a bit so that you could slide his pants down and off, and you were able to see how much your actions effected him.

“i wonder what they’d think if they saw you like this in my arms, hm? a mess and i haven’t even touched you properly yet.” you mumble softly. “if they saw you being such a little slut for my touch in my arms.” you finish, watching as he closes his eyes and his mouth opens.

“you like that don’t you? being called a little slut for my touch?” you ask, and he doesn’t give an answer right away. “i asked you a question and i expect an answer.” you mutter, gripping his clothed cock in your hard. “y-yes! yes! i-i love it.” he whimpered.

you’re satisfied with his answer and smirk, using one of your hands to trail beneath his now messy shirt, caressing the soft and plush skin of his tummy.

his cheeks redden when you do that, yet he still melts when you do it. his hips raise from your lap a bit so you can slide his boxers off.

you underestimated how much you effected him because his cock was already pretty and red, and steadily dripping precum.

“i-i’ve never....” he lets his words trial off. “touched myself....” he’s obviously embarrassed as he says it, though. “ you really are innocent.” you mutter, taking his cock into your hands.

he whimpered at the touch. he’s surprised by how good it feels when your hand moves up and down around him, starting at a steady pace.

he already feels like he’s on cloud nine with the way you’re sucking and nibbling on his neck. “p-please...” he whimpers. he pushed his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head back.

“how does it feel, baby? letting me touch you like this. you let me so easily too, an innocent whore for me to use.” you murmured softly, speeding up your hand.

“a-ah! oh my gosh- s-so good-“ he moans, eyes rolling back as he feels the warmth of an orgasm pool into his stomach.

“f-feels funny-“ he whispers softly, thighs clenching together to try and stop your hands, but you use your legs to spread them apart farther.

his back arches from your chest as he squirms. “it’s okay, baby, just let go.” you whisper, and he does what you say when you suck on the sweet spot right below his ear.

he’s practically shaking when he cums, the mere force of his first ever orgasm makes him shiver in pure pleasure. his cum spills over your fist and drips slightly below and onto the wooden floor.

you help him through it and carefully remove your hand and grab some tissues to clean up the mess. you helped him fix his now rinkled clothing, and he was incredibly bashful afterwards.

“t-thank you...” he whispers. “you’re welcome, cutie. you might want to cover those up, though.” you tell him, nodding at the litter of hickies that covered his neck. his cheeks flush as he looks at them.

“let’s take a break from the project since we’re almost done. i want to get to know you more.” you mutter, pushing the project to the side. “o-okay...” he whispers, taking your hand when it’s offered to pull him up and lead him to your room.

123 notes · View notes

guysunderwearstories · 3 years

Text

Story #15

“C’mon bro, rise and shine.” Carson threw a pillow at the face of his brother Walt, who was sleeping on an air mattress on the floor of his Boston apartment.

“Five more minutes.” Walt pulled his blanket up higher over his shirtless body. With still a week to go before the spring semester started, Walt had decided to take a break from his college house and see his older brother Carson.

As much as Walt wanted to sleep, he had already agreed to go to the gym with his brother. Carson, 25 years old and having to work harder to maintain his six pack that came more easily to him in college, was already dressed in sweatpants and a sleeveless sweatshirt. Working for a ritzy accounting firm that had a gym in the building for its employees, Carson’s plan was to bring Walt as his guest and get in a few exercises before a long day of sitting at a desk.

Walt threw off the blanket. His body exposed in a pair of orange Pair of Thieves briefs. While he lacked the defined six pack of his brother but had the naturally in-shape body of a college male who only drinks light beer and dabbles in ultimate frisbee.

Carson held his tongue. While he knew his brother used to be a boxers guy, over Christmas break he had seen him wake up in an absurdly small pair of smiley faced briefs. Though Walt had been embarrassed about it at the time, he had been flaunting his tiny underpants since the start of his visit. Carson suspected that may have to do with the fact that on that same Christmas break Walt had pantsed him to reveal a jockstrap, as the first time Carson called out his brother for his budgie smugglers Walt had smugly retorted that at least his underpants covered his ass. The whole thing infuriated Carson, as he was usually a boxers man but literally only wore the jockstraps when working out.

Carson and Walt walked the five blocks to the building where Carson worked. As the two were about the step into the building, Carson heard himself being greeted by name. He was surprised; he usually got to the gym well before his coworkers, and the few other people he encountered normally at this time were people on different floors he did not know. But this was his boss greeting him, Norm.

“Hello, sir.” said Carson. He had no plans to introduce his nuisance of a brother. “Going to get a workout in?”

Norm chuckled. “Not at my age.” This answer was baffling; though Norm was in his fifties, as evidenced by his full gray hair and beard, his slim but firm body would’ve suggested there was some working out in his morning schedule. “Just have to catch up on some work I really should’ve done already.”

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries before Norm went upstairs and Carson and Walt walked into the locker room. They started to change into their workout clothes and in a few moments the two brothers stood only in their underwear: Walt in his orange briefs, and Carson in some boxers with dark blue and light pink vertical stripes. He grabbed the teal jockstrap from his bag and prepared to changed into it.

“Look.” Walt gestures towards the one other man in the locker room, who looked to be about a year or two younger than Carson but with an impressive body to match. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black Calvin Klein trunks. “That dude’s about to work out in underwear that actually covers his ass.”

The man chuckled to himself as he pulled on a tank top, and Carson turned beet red. He swatted Walt with the hand he was holding the jockstrap, the minimal teal fabric whipping through the air. Screw it. He wasn’t going to have Walt teasing him the entire time he was here. He put the jockstrap back into his gym locker and pulled his workout shorts over his boxers. Guess everything was going to be flapping in the breeze for this workout.

Working out in boxers was not something Carson ever wanted to repeat. His workout shorts were about the same length as the underwear underneath them, so he was constantly readjusting. He had to pick between two evils: either have fabric ballooning over the top, or have the legs peek out the bottom. Both atrocities occurred repeatedly throughout the workout.

He finished the workout before Walt and took to the showers before he got dressed. As the locker room was empty, he sat on the bench fully clothed and waited for his brother. Walt came back from the shower and slipped a pair of white briefs on underneath his towel before ditching it. Fully clothed and looking at his brother in a pair of tiny white briefs, Carson felt his time to get revenge.

“Bro, seriously? Colored briefs are one thing, but you look like you’re wearing a diaper in those tighty whities.”

Walt just laughed. “Again. At least my ass is covered.” He paused for a second. “Well, mostly.” He put on his clothes.

The two picked up their gym bags and walked into an empty hallway. Still early, Carson had wanted to show Walt his office, but after all of this teasing he was no longer sure he was in the mood.

“Dude, I brought that jockstrap to the gym as a joke,” he lied. “I literally wore a jockstrap once, it was a gag gift from a buddy-“

“Whatever you say.” Walt was enjoying this. But Carson was annoyed.

“Walt, enough of this. You’re staying with me, I need you to respect me. I’m a boxers guy and you know this. A boxers guy.”

“I believe you.” Walt spoke with exaggerated sarcasm.

“You don’t believe me? Fine.” Carson untucked his work shirt and unbutton his pants. He pulled his khakis to his knees. So now while his top half has a button down light blue shirt and a black tie, his bottom half revealed a pair of black American Eagle boxer shorts dotted with orange peaches. “See? Boxers guy through and through.”

“I’m not sure why that’s relevant to a workplace, but I now see you do prefer boxers, Carson.” Carson turned around and to his horror Norm was standing in what he had thought was an empty hallway.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I was-“

“I don’t really need to know what was happening.” Norm cut him off. “I had just wanted to introduce you to your new coworker, who you’ll be working very closely with.”

In the confusion, Carson had not even noticed another man next to Norm. It was the man from the locker room, dressed in a light pink dress shirt and khakis so tight he had visible trunk lines.

“Nice to meet you, Carson.” His eyes darted down to the peaches. “But would you mind pulling up your pants now?”

NOTE: Hey everyone! I wish I could post more frequently but it’s hard with schoolwork and it’s been difficult to come up with ideas. But I’ll still post whenever I get a chance!

I love bringing back minor characters because it introduces variety and lets me do stories I can’t do with the single house of guys. But I also get things may be confusing, and I also know not everyone has read all the stories. Though I’d love to know if you have for the ego boost, if you’re a new reader and just want to know which story started the ongoing plot in some of these, feel free to ask and I can direct you! Some stories relate directly to others, and I’d be happy to show you where to go if you don’t want to read all 14.

21 notes · View notes

weasleypogues · 4 years

Text

newbie on set pt. 3 (r.p)

read part 1 and part 2 if you haven’t already :D

part 4

taglist: jellyfishbeansontoast sspidermanss mileven-reddie sunflowerbecca ivebeenthinkingboutu nas-marie-loves-u k-k0129 nelebynele @elamvlfoy @hmspoguee @retr0babey @poguestyleskye @fangirlvoice @rudethchalamet @always-jackedup @iwriteimagines @outerbxmalia @perfektionsmakel @may8ank @jadesbabylon @usedtobeaj @maebanks @jjtheangel @katiaw2 @lasnaro @im-a-stranger-thing @tait-er-tots @loliismutt @stellastars22 @sofia-number-1

if your @ has a strike through it that means i couldnt find your @

masterlist.

warning: this is super fucking fluffy

you looked at yourself in the mirror. you had put on your favorite floral dress that ended mid-thigh and a pair of white shoes. you decided to keep the accessories and makeup to a minimum. excitement surged through you but that didn’t mean that nervousness didn’t follow. you admitted to yourself that you liked rudy and the fact that he asked you on a date signified that he liked you too. so why were you so nervous? you always felt authentic and playful around him but now that things were starting to move, you didn’t want to mess it up.

you checked your phone and and grabbed your purse from the couch in your apartment. rudy refused to tell you where he was taking you out. no matter how much you begged he wanted it to be a surprise. as you heard a knock at your door, your heart felt like it flew out of your chest and you ran a little too quick to answer it. after taking a deep breath, you opened the door and were faced with madison and madelyn. your shoulders dropped in disappointment but also relief.

“you ready?” madison asked, the grin on her face ceasing to even drop the slightest inch. you smiled back at her shared excitement and nodded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in.

“he should be here any minute now. i’m a little annoyed he hasn’t told me where he’s bringing me though. like, what if i’m too underdressed? what if i’m overdressed?” you rambled out, your palms becoming sweatier by the second as you wiped them on the sides of your dress. madelyn placed her hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eyes to calm you down.

“you are not going to be overdressed or underdressed whatsoever, trust me.” madelyn spoke calmly and you nodded slowly.

“how do you know?” you inquired, checking your phones’ clock one more time. the more minutes that passed by the more your emotions felt amplified to.

“(y/n), calm down! he told us where he’s taking you and it’s perfect. you’re going to love it. i wouldn’t lie to you.” madison reassured from beside madelyn. you nodded and gave them a small smile. you heard a faint knock at your door and whipped your head around to it before turning back to the two castmates in front of you with wide eyes accompanied by an even wider smile. madison and madelyn ran to hide from the view of the door as you opened it.

there rudy was. he had on nicely fitting khaki pants, a white tshirt and a jean jacket over top of it. sunglasses rested ontop of his styled messy hair and a bouquet of roses and sunflowers. you smiled brightly at him before starting, “you clean up nicely.”

“i could say the same for you. you look great.” rudy responded, slightly breathless. you felt your face get warm and you glanced at the flowers in front of you.

“those are beautiful, rudy.” you stated, and even though you knew those were for you, you didn’t want to plainly rip it out of his hands. rudy returned the smile and handed them to you which you gladly took.

“you couldn’t believe the old lady that yelled at me when i was picking them from her garden.” rudy responded, throwing his hands up in the air to dramatize his story. your jaw dropped but a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“you stole this from a sweet old lady?” you asked, slightly chuckling. you weren’t sure if you should feel flattered or not.

“(y/n/n), i’m joking. i got it from the florist on the corner.” rudy answered, chuckling at how gullible you are. you felt your shoulder relax and a chuckle escape from your lips.

“let me go get these into some water and than we’ll head out?” you reply, waving in reference to the flowers and turning back around. you completely had forgotten that madelyn and madison were there so when they were cowered in your kitchen out of sight from the door you jumped up in fright with a little yelp escaping your lips.

“you all right in there?” rudy asked, concerningly. he walked through the threshold and put it together when he saw the two girls there with sheepish smiles on their faces.

“they were here for support, pre-pick up.” you replied, as sheepishly as them. rudy laughed and rolled his eyes.

“don’t worry. i had a whole pep talk with drew and jonathan to make sure i wore the right socks.” he answered, easing your nerves. “off we go.” he stated and held his elbow out for you to latch your arm around.

-----

“you gave away my reservation?” rudy asked the hostess. he ran his hands stressfully threw his hair, careful not to raise his voice because it most likely wasn’t the individual hostess’ fault but his plans were going down the drain.

“i’m sorry, sir. we became backed up tonight and the manager said all reservations after 7 would be cancelled so it became a first come first serve.” she responded, giving a pitiful look but acting professional. you looped your hand around rudy’s elbow and tugged on him slightly to let him know you were there.

“we can grab food somewhere else if you’d like? i really don’t mind at all. as long as i’m with you, i’m happy.” you reassured him in a softer tone. rudy looked into your eyes and you could tell he was stressed that this wasn’t going as he planned but appreciated what you had said.

“if you guys want to wait, it’ll be about an hour and a half.” the hostess brought up. rudy shook his head and gave her a smile.

“no thank you.” and with that you both turned around and walked out the door.

you two decided that you would walk down the street and if there was something that really striked you guys, you could consider it. however, being as it was a saturday night in charleston, it was going to be difficult to find somewhere that wasn’t a long wait.

“so, as of right now the shortest wait we have is forty-five minutes, after walking around for an hour.” rudy stated, rubbing his hands over his face. he felt sincerely bad that this was how it was turning out. you felt bad that he felt stressed because like you said earlier, you just wanted to be with him.

“theres usually a couple of food trucks by the water, if we wanna check those out?” you suggested, rubbing your thumb back and forth onto his hand. rudy looked over at you and smiled again.

“i’m down for that.” he responded. you let your hand drop to your side as you were ready to make your way down to the pier. you were thankful that you wore comfortable shoes rather than annoying sandals or heels. you soon felt rudy’s hand brush against yours a couple of times until his pinky latched onto yours. you decided it was your next move and interlocked your fingers with his, letting your hands rock back and forth.

“hey man, can we get two tacos please?” rudy asked the man in the food truck. it wasn’t a long wait until you got your tacos. after tipping the truck and getting napkins, you two found a bench to sit and relax for once. you took the hot sauce packet and opened it, letting the little tray with the taco sit in your lap. what happened next literally seemed out of a fucking movie.

a seagull swooped in and nipped at the taco, allowing it to fall to the ground as more and more birds swarmed. you instinctively ran away, yelling and laughing at how funny this must look. rudy swatted his free hand at the birds but realized that would really do nothing. he walked over to you breathlessly and ran a hand through his blond hair while the other held his unharmed taco.

“we can just share this one?” rudy asked, his nose slightly scrunched and a couple chuckles escaping his lips here and there. you nodded laughing, tugging at the root of your hair. this would happen tonight, out of all nights.

rudy decided it was best to maybe stay walking, instead of being a sitting target for another swarm of birds. additionally, you were glad to get this chance to really get to know rudy without some waiter coming to interrupt every so often or even a bird. there was a nice breeze running through the two of you side by side and from the looks of it, the sun would set in about an hour or so, letting the sky look as if it were golden. or so you thought.

it felt like in a matter of minutes that the sky above the two of you quickly turned dark and grey and the wind became stronger.

“it’s gonna rain, isn’t it?” you asked, nodding in acceptance and with a chuckle.

“y’know, one of us should’ve checked the weather app before we planned to be outside.” rudy stated, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hands and giving a small smile in response to you.

“‘one of us’? you planned the date. that’s all on you, mister.” you responded jokinly in hopes of calming his nerves as you could tell he was just getting more and more stressed by the second. it was only seconds after, that it started to downpour. you felt your skin get wet instantly, and droplets were falling from your hair.

“here, take this.” rudy didn’t even hesitate to take off his jean jacket and hold it over your head as you two instinctively ran to the closest place to take cover. you could feel your socks get wet as you ran threw quickly formed puddles to sit in a gazebo, close to the water.

yet again, you both stood undercover, breathlessly. you and rudy both started wringing out your clothes from the amount of water it had accumulated. but, you couldn’t help but stare at his torso that was becoming more and more visible as his tshirt was still damp and sticking to his skin.

“eyes up here, sweetheart.” rudy joked, pointing his two fingers to his eyeballs. you rolled your eyes and giggled, wiping the droplets of water off of your exposed skin. you let out one last breath, and looked up at him with a goofy grin on your face.

“this first date was, uh......something.” you said, playfully. he made eye contact with you and the two of you bursted out laughing.

“i cannot believe all of this happened in the matter of, what? two hours?” rudy responded, shaking his hair of water and walking towards you slowly.

you took another step closer to him until there wasn’t much space between the two of you. “i guess we’ll just have to make up for in on the next date.” you responded, flirtatiously. something clicked in your brain real quick and you were suprised you said that. that was pretty ballsy.

“oohh, i have the honor for a second date with the (y/n) (y/l/n)? wasn’t sure i would make it past this one.” rudy responded chuckling and interlocking both of his hands with yours.

“what, you don’t think tonight ran smoothly and according to plan?” you answered sarcastically, tilting your head to the right.

“you just think you are hilarious, don’t you?” he said, glancing down to your lips. keeping your hands interlocked, you leaned in to give him a kiss. you liked the way his damp lips felt and how passionate it felt. as you two pulled away simultaneously, you had to slightly bite your lip to keep the goofy grin from appearing onto your face.

rudy clearly did not have the same thought process and the giddy grin on his face made you giggle and throw your head back. “you’re adorable.” you complimented.

“look who’s talking.” he responded. you glanced to the side of you and saw that the rain had halted and skipped to the outside of it, seeing the sun come back out. you held your hand out and turned back towards rudy still standing in the gazebo, admiring you from afar.

“i want ice cream.” you stated, holding your hand out for him to take. he gladly took it and you guys made another journey to find the next place to eat. as you two walked towards the direction of your apartment building, you two walked side by side, glaldy eating your own separate ice creams. you made sure because he paid for tacos, that you had the ice creams covered. he insisted that he at least pay for half of the ice creams though, considering you never even got to eat your taco.

“i hope you enojyed tonight. i know it didn’t really go according to plan but i’m glad with was with you.” rudy said, throwing his dirty napkin in a trash can you two passed as you guys kept walking the emptying streets of charleston.

“well i think it went great.” you said, taking a lick of your ice cream.

“oh did you?” rudy inquired, with raised eyebrows. this was a relief for him because he felt stressed out almost the entire time that everything wrong seemed to be happening.

“i mean, yeah. you never really remember when things go perfectly, do you? the tacos, seagulls, the cancelled reservation, and rain just spiced up the night a little more.” you answered, glancing into his eyes with a smile on your face. he shoved his hands into his pockets with a shit-eating grin on his face, nodding slowly as he looked at the ground.

“i’m glad.” he simply said. you smiled, feeling your face grow hot and looked forward again, gladly eating your ice cream. however, you could feel rudy’s eyes staring at you as you were still wearing his denim jacket to keep yourself warm.

“sooo, about that second date?” rudy brought up, grabbing your free hands, interlocking your fingers and letting your two arms sway dramatically between the two of you playfully.

138 notes · View notes

apterydek · 4 years

Text

After a year of jockhood

A year of jockhood came and went, daily workouts, buzzed head, sweaty gym shorts. Though you were stronger and more comfortable than ever, you missed being preppy. Looking back at the old photos from when you wore chinos and polos instead, you remembered how you felt then: disappointed you weren’t living the jock life.

“I’m not sure what to do,” you confess to Sir. He’s the one putting you through your paces, holding you to your meal plan. He was the one who gave you your first buzz, clippers set to 1. “Though I’m living my fantasy, and I feel confident, I keep feeling like I’m missing out on all the other versions of me. This was supposed to be my final transformation, and despite all the mental training, I just can’t stick with it. I’m sorry Sir, I fear I’ve disappointed you. I know you’ve put so much effort into training me.”

Sir isn’t angry, nor let down. He’s pensive, eyes out of focus, forehead furrowed. Then, with a sudden smile, he starts: “Boy, it’s no problem. I’ve seen this before. Sensed that it might happen. It’s just that I wanted you to have the full jock experience you were so dedicated to when we first started. I know just what to do. Another year of training—”

“Another year?” you blurt in disbelief.

“Shush, boy,” he continues, stern now. “This year will be unlike the last year. Rather than get you deep into one identity, we’ll change things up every month. We’ll explore all the different versions of you. Then decide what to do next. Who knows, maybe you’ll be begging to go back to jock mode.”

Your mouth is open. “W..well…” you say, processing what Sir’s suggesting. It tingles, excitement gripping you, and you decide to comply. “Yes Sir!” you shout. He’s already thinking of what you’ll become, and within the week, you’re given your first identity.

January you kept your hoodies and trainers, but grew out your hair slightly on top even as the sides were shaved. You wore a steel necklace and a tracksuit. Manspreading, walking with a swagger. Drinking and cursing. Watching porn. Sir would catch you by surprise and pin you against the wall, getting his pleasure from you. You loved the sudden lack of discipline, the spontaneity, the cockiness.

February your hair was long enough to part and slick. Your wardrobe was entirely replaced with white briefs and singlets, gray and blue dress shirts, smart slacks, knee socks, shined shoes and even a pair of short elasticated wool shorts for home. You tucked in your shirt every day, followed a structured schedule, and learned the basics of piano and French every evening. Sir would spank you for the smallest transgressions. You came to enjoy his discipline, the way your energy was controlled and focused on learning.

March your hair kept growing. You returned to sporty shorts with matching silky shirts. Leg day every day. Running, endurance. Sir had chosen only two outfits for you to wear. It made decisions easy. He chose your food carefully for energy. By the end of all the workouts you’d be ready to head to bed, but you were quizzed on football stats every day from the games you spent hours watching. You lived through your team’s performance, trained hard to emulate your favorite players. Sport, sport, sport. The month passed quickly.

April you didn’t get a haircut, just put a little hair gel in it. Polos and khakis or bright, short shorts. Boat shoes. You started to drink again. Spent lots of time on social media, taking lots of selfies with vapid pearly smiles. A lot of them involved golf, which you were now taking up. Sir got you invited to a party on a yacht. Little discipline again, just spending money, and enjoying the money others spent, and the respect everyone gave you.

May you used a straight iron and bobby pins. Pink crop tops and pink high tops. Became a go-go dancer, shaking your butt every time someone slipped a sweaty dollar bill down the waistband of your glittery hot pants. Pumped your nips every night and morning. Sir worked your hole every morning until you could take a plug, then a thick dildo, then a fist. Sometimes, after your shows, you’d get the chance to fit other guys’ hands up your hole too. It felt good to be desired, great to be a slut, and utterly fabulous to be so flamboyant.

June you got a cut in front and a trim in the back. Button-ups with the snaps, tucked into tight Wranglers and secured with a massive belt buckle. You listened to country music the entire time you were awake. Spent time hunting and fishing, dressed in camo and/or waders. Beaten-up T-shirts and trucker caps half the time. Cowboy hats the other half. It was relaxing getting back into nature, relaxing listening to repetitive songs, relaxing to slip completely into this identity and hear the voices of anxiety silenced. Some time every day, Sir gave you hearty pats on the back, and butt, and you embraced him, totally at ease.

July you awoke in briefs and a singlet again. An extra-large polo shirt, sweater vest, and loose polyester dress pants were stuffed over you, and you were taken to a barbershop and given a tight waxed horseshoe flattop with a white, shiny, wide landing strip. Glasses for good measure too. The only fun you had was DnD, but mostly you were too busy reading academic papers, solving logic puzzles, and arguing with strangers on Quora to spend much time on the DnD sessions. Sir would turn the Internet off at 9 every night, though, and you’d have to wake up early the next day to catch up on your online pursuits. It felt good to know more than anyone else...except Sir, of course.

August you got tired of feeling like other guys were about to bully you and became the bully instead. Buzzed again, gym shorts, tank tops, lifting, protein shakes and meal plans: all the things you’d gotten tired of six months ago, but which seemed so comfortable and natural now. You almost didn’t want to continue the cycle of transformations. Begged Sir, naked and on your knees, your prominent pecs quivering slightly. Sir denied you. You needed still more discipline.

September you were to follow a detailed schedule to the minute. Your buzz was shaved daily on the back and sides, clippered to a 0.5 on top. You were issued one set of clothes for PT, and one set of clothes for day-to-day wear: a polo and cargo pants with stiff black boots that gave you blisters. There was a final set of clothing for dinners and special outings: a dress shirt secured with shirt stays, immaculately creased trousers, mirror-shined black shoes. Punishments were severe and severely boring: standing at attention for hours, endless sets of push-ups, and marches in circles with the sun beating on your shorn head. Despite the unpleasantness, you felt proud to be held to such a strict standard, and to comply with it at least most of the time. Sir would occasionally reward your compliance with a treat like a single ice cream bar or 20 minutes of free time.

October you asked again to become a jock, or a frat boy, again, but Sir, tight-lipped, shook his head. You hadn’t learned your lesson. Stripped of all clothing, you winced as you were shaved head to toe, and a chastity cage was forced on and locked. You were rubbed with lube before being covered in a thick black rubber suit that covered your entire body, zips held closed with a dozen miniature padlocks. You were let out of rubber only for your brief, intense workouts—for public matters, a thinner rubber suit that left your arms and legs exposed was fastened on you, after which you donned a plain black T-shirt, black jeans, black Converses and a black snapback. Half the time, a large plug was shoved up your ass. You didn’t have a strict schedule any more, but the punishments more than made up for it. Perhaps your entire existence was one punishment. You were beaten, forced into painful positions, your balls stretched, made to drink piss and eat from the floor. You slept in a large dog cage. Slowly, you got used to it, hastened by Sir’s hypnosis and brainwashing sessions. You realized how much effort Sir was putting into the training and resolved not to disappoint him again. The border between pain and pleasure disappeared, and you grew content in the moment, constant intense sensations forcing your attention on the present. For Halloween you were paraded out in your full rubber suit, a collar and leash around your neck.

November you knelt, bound, ready for the next layer of intensity, for a fresh round of humiliation and torture. You accepted whatever Sir might inflict upon you. But he untied you, let you out, gently cleaned you in the bathtub, and had you lie on a towel. It was only when you felt a soft, pillowy sensation enveloping your chastity cage that you realized what he’d planned. You had a large wardrobe of brightly colored T-shirts and pants and a full rack of chunky sneakers. There were rules, of course, particularly around bedtime, screen time, and getting your diaper changed, but you were otherwise free to play as you wished. The lack of punishment initially seemed wrong, like cheating, but you settled into your new pampered lifestyle as Sir gently encouraged you and occasionally told you life stories to learn from. By the end of the month, you were making cucumber sandwiches like a pro, wearing a cartoon sandwich T-shirt and overalls.

December Sir trimmed the sides and back of your head, undressed you, unlocked you from chastity, and showed you to yet another set of clothing. You couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but he didn’t tell you what you were supposed to become, just smiled and walked out of the room. No kinky gear or implements anywhere, just a fleshlight in the back of the drawer, behind the boxer shorts and miscellaneous patterned shirts and jeans. Sir just kind of...left you alone, not telling you when to wake up or what any consequences of anything would be. With the horniness from the previous months of chastity and discipline built up, you started to jerk off at least three times a day. Sitting at the dinner table with Sir eating pizza, you asked him what this was all about. It felt so wrong.

“Boy, this month I’m showing you what you haven’t had for several years: a ‘normal’ lifestyle. No control, no schedule, no denial, no punishments, just...freedom. You shouldn’t forget, I can give you any transformation I desire, and this month I want you to be a regular guy. What’s light without shadow, a vessel without the internal emptiness, a crisp autumn day without the muggy summer before it?”

Almost crying at this point, you nodded. You’d taken all this kinky artifice for granted, assumed that last month was Sir’s way of letting you off easy even though you were in diapers. You had gotten so accustomed to Sir’s control that you’d let yourself get tired of living your deepest fantasies as a prep and a jock.

You stood up. “Sir,” you started, about to apologize, about to thank him, about to tell him how much you loved him, but you pushed your face into his and gave him a deep kiss, inserting your tongue, feeling his warm mouth relax in pleasure. You hugged him tight, and he hugged you tighter, and you were together, equals now. Wait, equals? That didn’t feel right.

You pulled his arms behind his back and scowled. “I love you. That’s why I’m going to do to you what you did to me. We’ll start with you as a jock.” Sir’s eyes widened. You kept your face stern, but worried he’d find some way to punish you. Suddenly, Sir sat up and straightened his shoulders. “Sir, yes Sir!” he yelled. And so, another year began, with a Sir and boy playing through various transformations, except the Sir and boy were reversed this time, and a few times, for a month at a stretch, they’d stop and live as equals, just to appreciate what they had. Appreciate each other they most certainly did.

#gay story #transformation #gay transformation #gay tf #jock #sir

460 notes · View notes

hayjeon · 5 years

Text

Snow and Ice 02 [M] (ft. Jungkook)

→ friendswithbenefits!au with Snowboarder!JK and figure skater!reader during the Olympics. Warning for slight dirty talk.

→ 13.7k | part 1 | part 2 | fin.

a/n: sorry this took so long, but I’m so glad to be writing for you guys and seeing your messages in my inbox again. This marks the end of snow and ice! Thank you so much for being patient and supporting this fic, and although this was a beast to get through because of my writer’s block, I hope you enjoy! I won’t be posting a story talk about this unfortunately, but feel free to request any drabbles with this couple! I love them so much <3

“Come watch me,” he suggests, as you both get dressed for gym.

“Huh?” You frown at him, pulling on your sports bra and then smoothing over your spandex longsleeve over it. “Watch you do what?”

“Train, stupid.” He says, grinning as he brushes his teeth. He leans over, spitting in the sink bowl before continuing. “Watch me board, ‘n stuff.”

You turn in the mirror, tying up your hair. “Am I allowed to?”

He nods, now lathering up soap in his hands to clean his face. “Of course. The hyungs invite girls over all the time.”

You glare at him. “You too? You want me to be just another girl in the stands for you?”

He rinses off the soap. “Actually,” he says, patting his face dry and applying lotion. “you’re the first girl I’ve ever asked to come.”

You raise your brows, walking with him back to his room. “Seriously?” You perch on the bed, pulling on your leggings. “Dang, I would have assumed you had thousands of girls lined up to watch.”

He shrugs on a shirt. “I guess, but it doesn’t really matter. Here, how ‘bout this,” he suggests, handing you a yellow sweater, “Wear this, and i’ll be able to see you from the hill. That way I know to do my best.”

You roll your eyes as you pull it on, “You’re always supposed to do your best, Jungkook. It’s the Olympics.”

He grins, “Yeah, but I’d rather perform for you than anyone else, babe.”

Your heart does a little flutter at the comment and the nickname, and you turn to hide the grin that threatens to come onto your lips. “Shut up,” you giggle.

Watching Jungkook, different from what you’d expected, is actually incredibly fun. He’s absolutely amazing at boarding, and as you watch him come down the slopes, he kicks up into the air with amazing speed and agility as he performs outstanding flips and turns in mid-air. He speeds recklessly fast towards the incline and flips off, turning thrice before landing perfectly onto the snow. He executes the boxes and the pipes with no effort at all.

He’s really good, and you can see why he was chosen again, even amongst younger and older competitors. He was just absolutely the best.

He finishes his final run, and does a little turn at the end of the pipe and boards right up to you, the edge of his Burton scraping loudly against the snow as he brakes in front of you.

Grinning, he pulls off his goggles and leans down to unbuckle a foot from his board. He perches an arm against the fence you were behind.

“So,” he smirks, “what did you think?”

You blush, hoping he doesn’t notice and just credits your red cheeks to the cold. “You’re really good.”

That flakes up his ego and you watch as he laughs, reaching forward to curl a stray hair behind your ear and tuck your (well, technically his, because you stole it from him) beanie down better over your cold forehead.

“Well, I wouldn’t be an Olympian if I wasn’t good,” he jokes, winking at you. He reaches forward and zips your (his) jacket all the way up.

You roll your eyes, but your mouth is curling up in a smile.

“Also,” he comments, “I could see you all the way from the hill,” he snorts, “This jacket is literally the best one to spot someone a mile away. The yellow pops like crazy against the snow.”

You pat down the thing. It’s huge, almost reaching your knees and the sleeves way too long for your arms, but perfect enough so you didn’t have to wear gloves out in this weather. “It’s kind of big.”

“You look cute,” he smirks, dusting off his own black jacket, with its own yellow accents on the zippers and the pocket buttons. Classy. “We match, see?” He’s also wearing a khaki pair of snowboarding pants and black pair of boots to match his signature Burton board. He looks good, decked out in gear or not.

“Can I try?” You say shyly, “will you teach me?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh shit, seriously?”

You nod, fingering at the zipper at his chest, where the top of his grey hoodie peeks out. “Yeah.”

He smiles really big. “Yeah, I’m done training now. Wanna go right now? Since I have all my gear on.”

You nod and follow him to the small cabin near the slopes where there’s a locker room for the other athletes. Almost like a snowboarding store, there are brand new boards lined up against the wall, all from huge companies who wanted the athletes to notice and maybe do a promotion. Jungkook walks casually up to one and grabs it, holding it next to you and making sure that it comes to around your eye-level. “Here,” he hands you the board, the blue glinting in the bright lights of the display. You take it with wide eyes, almost tipping over under the surprising weight of the board.

He leads you to the boots where he grabs your size and sits you down on the bench to help you tie them.

“Wish you wore better socks,” he comments, as he kneels in front of you to pull long socks on your feet, “But my emergency pair will have to do.”

“Ew,” you crinkle your nose as he pulls them onto your legs, pulling the elastic as high as they can go up your calf. “Are you sure you washed these?”

He flicks you playfully, laughing, “Of course. I’m not Seokjin hyung.”

“Ew!” You exclaim, laughing loudly as he puts your foot in a heavy boot. He laces up the thick laces up the metal prongs, almost akin to the way you do yours when you lace up your skates. You wiggle your toes a bit, letting your calf press against the lip of the boot. “It’s a bit loose, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head. “There’s supposed to be a little wiggle room on your shins, because you need the room to move your ankles back and forth when you carve the slopes.”

You watch him finish.

“Okay,” he says, getting up and grabbing his own board. “This is how you strap them in.” He demonstrates with a foot, showing you how he cranks his straps first on the toe and then closer to your ankle with a skilled hand. “The crank will stop by itself when it doesn’t have enough space left to tighten.”

“Okay,” you respond, doing your own foot yourself. “Is this right?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, helping you up. “Alright, and you can put your foot here, and basically try standing.”

You get up from the bench and almost immediately topple over, and Jungkook catches you with a snort. You pout at him and use him to push yourself into equilibrium, spreading out your arms to get used to the feeling of having your feet strapped down so tightly against the ground.

“Good,” he encourages, “now try twisting your torso back and forth, good.”

“That’s it?” you raise your brows.

He snorts at you. “That’s it?”

You shrug, laughing at his incredulous expression when he scoffs at you. “I mean, it just looked a lot harder when you were doing it.”

He raises his brows at you. “We’ll see how you do on the actual snow.”

Just like he’d predicted, you were absolute shit.

“Fuck!” You exclaim as you fall down on your butt again, groaning and pouting as you let the soft snow cushion your back.

He laughs at you, slowing down to board towards you and help you up, dusting off your back and legs when you finally get up on your feet. “No, no, that was good. You’re getting the hang of it.”

You roll your eyes, “I heard you laugh at me, asshole.”

He grins, “I told you, it was hard. It’s like me telling you that ice skating looks easier when watching it and doing it. It’s totally different.”

You sigh, following his directions as you slowly acceleration down the bunny slope. Bend knees, arms out, lean back.

He watches you with a big smile, grinning as you furrow your brows in concentration and focus on making sure you don’t fall while scraping down the hill.

You start going too fast, and begin screaming as you instinctively lead forward, and Jungkook immediately boards up to you and scrapes to a stop in front of you, trying to catch you as you fall, but you’re going way too fast for him to stop you.

He ends up toppling backwards, with you on top of him, and he lands with a loud “Oof!” and you look up at him in shock. He’s just laying there with his eyes closed and unresponsive.

“Jungkook! Are you okay?!” You blurt, patting the chest that you’re cradled against.

“Ow,” he says, grinning down at you, snow all in his hair and sweater. “You’re a lot heavier than I thought.”

You spit out a loud “ugh!” and hit his chest as you frown. “You scared me!”

He laughs out loud, as you hit him continuously, his chest shuddering at the huge guffaws. “You thought I was dead or something?!” He snorts, grabbing your hand and holding it tight to stop you. You pout at him, “I thought you were hurt or you hit your head!” You shift a little, and Jungkook winces.

“Oh my god,” you pant, “Why what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He groans. “Yo-your knee, it’s digging into my crotch. Ow.” He winces and you scramble off of him to stand up, as he rolls over to get up.

“That was almost bad,” he says, kneeling up to stand. “This is precious private property.”

You snort, dusting off his hair and sweater, “Ugh shut up,” You roll your eyes, “You like making fun of me too much.”

He stops you, grabbing your hand as you pat off his chest, and pulling you up so your almost nose to nose. “No,” he grins, looking down at you through his lashes, “I like you.”

Your cheeks heat up furiously, and you blurt out whatever you can to distract him. “I wanna do you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Jungkook’s eyes widen, successfully caught off guard as he glances around to make sure none of the other bystanders heard your announcement. Your bury the lower half of your face in the turtleneck of his snow jacket.

“Damn,” he mutters, smirking down at you, “watching me board got you that horny, that fast? You should come and watch me all the time.”

You roll your eyes, grinning behind a gloved hand. “Shut up. I’m starving. I found a nice sushi restaurant?”

He nods, unbuckling his helmet. “Down. Don’t you have training tomorrow?”

You nod. “Come watch me too?”

He grins, glancing around quickly before pecking you so quickly you’re even unsure if he did it or not. Your cheeks are red, from the biting cold but also something else.

“Of course,” he whispers, and the both of you board slowly down to the board center, eyes only on each other.

“Your skin got better,” Irene comments almost a week later, when you both are stretching in the gym.

“Seriously?” You grin, touching your cheek and turning to look at yourself in the mirror. “Thank god, I didn’t wanna have a gross pimple on the day of.”

She laughs. “Well, yeah. But you just look...I don’t know...happier? New vibrator or something?” She laughs as you yelp and punch her arm. “Irene!”

“What!” She laughs, giggling, “You’ve been going out a lot, I just assumed you’d been shopping around in secret or something.”

You just smile, tamping down the blush on your cheeks. You had been going out a lot, and Irene had noticed too for the past few days, since it was really really hard to ignore Jungkook’s pleas for you to just stay in his bed at night.

Also, it was really really cold outside, and Jungkook’s room had a heater that adjusted to make the temperature...really really warm. And perfectly toasty. But not too hot, because you hated sweaty cuddling.

It wasn’t because you...wanted to stay with him...or whatever. Yeah. Just the warmth. It was almost minus 20 outside, you’d be crazy to try to sneak in back home at 4 am in the morning. Also his room had...tons of great great yummy food that you couldn’t resist.

You finish the workout without a struggle, and you and Irene make your ways into the rink. Today, you would have to wait a little since the hockey team was finishing up, but it was good time to just take a break. Plus, the cute team captain, Jimin, had texted you a couple days ago, inviting you to come watch him if your coach let you.

You settle on the stands, nodding when Irene leaves because she left her skate guards in the dorms, and focusing back onto the ice. Jimin glides easily, ramming his shoulder into his teammate’s to steal the puck. Although it was a practice session amongst their own, Jimin was still ruthless, all whilst still gliding so easily over the ice. There was no wonder why he was such a great athlete and captain.

When he makes a score, you clap a tiny bit, but sounds of squealing catch your attention down the stands. A few junior olympians, clearly first-timers and gymnasts, if you could judge by their attire, squeal and cheer for the cheeky captain whenever he makes a score. And you notice, that the captain had definitely invited them to come watch, because everytime he hears them scream, he tips his head over to them and gives them a smirk and a wink that makes them squeal a little more.

“God,” you mutter to yourself, “They’re like a herd of piglets. Jesus,” You roll your eyes, feeling a little annoyed at the scene.

“Whatcha muttering about to yourself there, sweetcheeks?” A voice sounds to your left, and you see Jungkook, holding two cups.

You panic, glancing around him to see if anyone was watching, like your teammates or your coach, but Jungkook just assures you, “Chill, there’s no one here. And if they do see me, they’ll assume I’m just here to watch Jimin.” You take the cup he offers you, and sip it, moaning at the warm hot chocolate that flows down your throat.

“Oh god,” you groan, “He invited you too?”

Jungkook laughs, “Was the text you got last night while I was eating you out from Jimin?”

You punch him, glancing around again. “Again, chill. No one knows.”

You roll your eyes, sipping the drink and leaning down to watch the game. “Yeah,” you scoff, glaring at the little gymnasts cheer again for the captain. “But seems like he just copied and pasted it to literally every single girl here.”

Jungkook leans back, sipping his chocolate. “Well, Jimin’s sort of a player, sweetheart.”

You widen your eyes at him. “Seriously? But he doesn’t...act...wait...” You trail off, trying to think of what to say, but Jungkook catches you with a smirk.

“He doesn’t...what? Doesn’t look like one? Doesn’t act like one?” He laughs at you when you glare at him. “Sorry honey, but he does all of it. You just have a tendency to fall for the bad ones.”

You gesture to him, the way he’s manspreading all over the place and cockily perched on the stands like he owns it. He scoffs at you. “Clearly.” You mutter, finishing off your drink.

He just laughs, reaching over and pinching your butt. “I’m so gonna edge you tonight because of that,” he says lowly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. You fidget, trying to pretend like you’re watching the game but to be honest you have no idea what the hell is going on. Your thighs are uncomfortably tense and your clit throbs against the material of your panties.

He leans in, grating against your ear. “You know I’m not like that. I’m a slave to you, and that delicious pussy.” He says, brushing your hair back nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t whispering the dirtiest things to you in the middle of an olympic stadium with other people there.

You fidget, and his eyes drop to the action. “Getting worked up, huh?” He grins, and you feel the way his body warmth lingers in the space. “Want me to do everything I say? Well let me tell ya,” he says lowly, still sipping on his hot chocolate, nonchalantly.

If anyone looked back and saw you both up in the stands, talking and watching the show, they’d assume you were both discussing the games or the positions or the way the puck was in Jimin’s hands or some hockey shit like that.

But this...

His voice is low enough to reach you from his place next to you, far enough to be professional, but close enough to be friendly. “I’m gonna throw you on the bed and rip all that fucking body tight spandex off,” he mutters, glaring at the leggings you love. “You always tease me, with how fucking tight that shit is on your body, and how I can literally see everything if I look at you in the right angle.”

You fidget, fingers tightening on the cup.

“I bet right now you’re this close to getting wet all over your leggings huh?” He whispers darkly, “Through your panties. Shit,” He grates, and you clench at the way he spits out the word. “I’ll fucking rip that shit off you and tie your hands to the bed and eat you out until you forget hockey captain’s fucking name. I’ll fucking edge you so much that you’ll be begging for my cock, begging and sobbing for me just to push it in.”

He takes another sip nonchalantly, seeming the every so lazy and serene image of the olympic professional snowboarder. Jeon Jungkook.

But you...you’re a little bit on the opposite end, head curling in to hide the redness of your cheeks and torso bending over your crossed knees to cover the pants that you let out. Your clit throbs heavily against the slit of your panties that is pressed right against your wetness, and your fingers twitch to just reach down and rub one out.

But the stadium is too well-lit, and there are people sitting on the opposite side of the stadium who you can predict will be able to tell what’s going on if you did anything physically suspicious. So you’re stuck, stuck here listening to Jungkook whisper his plans for tonight into your ear, trying to smile to make it seem like you’re just discussing sweet, innocent things. Not the way his big cock was gonna slide through your wetness. Nope.

“And I’m gonna flip you over and then--”

“Y/N!”

Jungkook is cut off and the both of you dart your heads up in the direction of the sound of your name. Jimin, from a few stands down, waves up at you, smiling and gesturing for you to come down, since his skates wouldn’t let him climb up easily. You stand, setting your cup down and Jungkook follows you down and you three meet at the base of the stand steps. You can distinctly feel the burn of the gymnasts gazes on the side of your face, searing into your skin with glares so fierce that even the ignorant Jimin glances nervously in their direction.

“So,” he says, shaking out his hair and balancing all his equipment on the other shoulder. “How was the game?”

How was the game, really? You had no fucking clue because Jungkook spent most of it explaining how he would do you instead of trying to explain what the hell was going on. You half-ass it.

“Oh, yeah! That was pret-ty cool,” you cluck, smiling awkwardly. But Jimin seems to want you to go on, and so you hesitate before adding, “Jungkook was explaining how things work, you know...with...the puck and your sticks and all.” You smile guiltily, but Jimin buys it, sending you a charming grin.

“Great,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. “You’re next right? I think I heard the figure skaters have the rink after us.” He glances behind you, giving Jungkook a nod. “’Sup man, nice to see you in these parts.”

Jungkook grins, arms crossed as he leans against the railing. “I’m here to see Y/N’s performance.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really? Didn’t know you two were close.”

You’re facing Jimin but can practically hear the fuckboy smirk in Jungkook’s tone. “Oh, yeah. We’re really close.” You turn to glare at him before whipping back and smiling sweetly at Jimin. “Yeah, I’m after. I think my coach is calling us to prep. Gotta go!”

You run off, waving at them, and see that Jimin turns to hit the showers and Jungkook sits back in the seats you two were sharing earlier. Jimin was probably gonna come back, but Jungkook was clearly intent on spending his time here.

Jogging over, you hear your coach reminding the others about some key points: “don’t be nervous, do it like you practiced, and don’t fucking get hurt.” You all nod and answer back, “Yes coach!” and she nods at you, seeming content. With a reassuring shoulder pat, she says, “Y/N you’re up. Go get your skates laced up while they’re clearing the ice.”

Before you turn to get your stuff, she hesitates frowning at your figure. “Did...did you gain some weight?” She says, gesturing to your thighs. You glance down, not really noticing anything different. “Uh...no,” you frown, pursing your lips.

She tsks disapprovingly. “Make sure you lose a couple more before the big day. Those extra pounds will really slow down your spins.”

You nod and jog over to grab your skates, threading the heavy duty laces through the metal prongs easily like it was muscle memory. You do a few stretches as you watch the zamboni glide over the ice, breathing in and breathing out to make sure you’re relaxed. Once the machine is safely tucked away, you enter on the ice, skating around the entirety of the rink and then situating yourself in the center in your starting pose, bent gracefully like a swan folded into its wings. Apparently, according to your coach.

As soon as the first tinkering notes of the piano begin, you unfurl, arms swinging out with precision and grace, and you immediately enter into the triple lutz and triple toe loop combination, finishing the move with a perfect spin, and then entering into the second triple toe with incredible speed.

You’re feeling good, and in the comfort of feeling good within the routine, you begin acting a little, putting on a graceful smile and a teasing glint in your eye that your coach instructed you to act upon. Your legs match the swells of the music, and everything seems to fade away, little by little, until the grande finale, where you’ve planned to finish the fourth triple toe with a little spin.

Turn, lift, and jump--Oh shit.

The foot you’re supposed to land on bends a little too far outwards, and you stumble, landing on the hard ice with a cry as your tailbone hits the cold surface without any limbs to obstruct your fall. Your ankle throbs as you hit the floor, and immediately, the music shuts off as Irene and Hoseok clamber over to you, your coach frowning from the music control pit and turning to come downstairs.

“Oh shit,” Irene frets, “you fell pretty hard, are you okay?”

Hoseok hovers behind her nodding. “Yeah, right on your tailbone.”

“Y/N!” All three of you look up to see Jungkook jogging up to you, slipping a little on the ice and giving up completely as he kneels next to you. “Are you okay?”

You wince when you try to stand, leaning on Jungkook support. Your ankle gives out under you, and you cry out when your sore butt hits the ice again. “Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, “We gotta get you to the medic.” Looping your arm around his shoulders and another under your knees, he easily lifts you up in his arms and Irene and Hoseok just worriedly watch Jungkook make his way over to the spongey floor and then start jogging towards the doors.

Coach catches up with you both, examining your ankle. “Y/N,” she frowns when you wince at the pressure she puts on your bone. “How does it feel?”

You sob, apologetic tears running down your cheeks. “I-I’m sorry,” you blubber, wiping at your cheeks, “I-I-I promise I won’t get hurt, just--”

“Shut up, Y/N,” Jungkook hisses, “Why are you even sorry? It wasn’t your fault.” He sends coach a withering glare as he outruns her, leaving her behind. On the way out the gym, Jimin catches the both of you, emerging from the locker rooms with a towel draped over his shoulders. His expression immediately falls at the sight of you sobbing in Jungkook’s arms.

“What happened?!” He calls after you, but no one answers him.

“Good news,” the medic explains, taking a look at your chart. “It’s not a sprain or a break. It’s just overused, and will be a little sore for the next few days. The tailbone will definitely bruise, but that’s basically the worst of it.”

He flips through the other parts of your info, frowning. “Y/N...” he mutters, glancing up at you. “Part of the figure skating team?”

You nod, glancing at Jungkook, who’s worriedly sitting by your side. “Yes,” you answer, “Is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “That explains your height to weight ratio. Just want to let you know that you don’t need to overexert yourself. You’re close to being underweight and a wrong move can lead to permanent damage. If you’re gonna be following a diet, you need to be strict on getting all your nutrients too.”

He frowns to himself, seeming to hesitate before he says the second part. “However, though, your coach called and asked me about your weight. You...did gain a few pounds since your first weigh-in at the beginning of the training. What is this...6 pounds? Your coach reminded me to tell you to makes sure it’s all muscle because the extra weight can affect your spins.”

He shrugs, rolling his eyes. “I hate telling girls this but we as medics operate within these Olympics for a reason. So, I’m prescribing you a few more vitamins and nutrients to help maintain your status quo, and I’m also banning you from any practice for the next three days. No skating, running, or even walking too much, if you want to step on that ice next week with a good performance. So you--” he points to Jungkook who straightens up, “Go get Y/N a wheelchair when you grab the prescriptions and make sure she gets absolutely no strain on that ankle. You hear me?”

“Thank you,” you tell him, and the old man nods as he walks away mumbling about Too skinny or something like that. Jungkook returns fairly quickly and helps guide you into the chair, pushing you towards the elevators.

You can hear the frown in his voice. “D-did he...are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, hands gripping the prescription.

“I heard what the medic said,” he says, rolling you into the elevator and pressing the button for the pharmacy. “About your weight.”

You shrug, thumbing at a stray thread on your arm. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal until it starts affecting my jumps. Coach is just worried.”

He hums in response, wheeling you out to the window of the pharmacy and retreiving your vitamins. When he jogs back to you, he hands you the paper bag and faces you with a small smile. “Hey,” he says softly, kneeling down a bit to your eye level. “Where do you wanna go now?”

You blink up at him, feeling a bit empty and not sure of what else to do. “Can we go someplace quiet?” You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the tears coming soon and you don’t want anyone else to be able to see that part of you. Also you just want a big big hug.

He nods, cupping your cheek and whispering “okay,” as he stands and begins to wheel you towards his dorms. When the cold air of the winter hits the both of you, he removes his jacket and places it on your legging-clad legs.

Thankfully, this time around, all the athletes aren’t home because they’re either training or practicing. So getting up to Jungkook’s room isn’t as difficult as you’d thought, and thankfully he’s wheeling you into his room without running into anyone or any other problems. Immediately, he opens his closet and grabs you another sweater to place on top of your spandex longsleeve, and then cranks up the thermostat as much as he can.

Opening the covers of his bed, he then turns to you, and lifts you easily out of the wheelchair, and gently sets you in the middle of his bed, tucking the sheets around you.

He turns to leave, and you grip his sleeve.

“Where are you going?”

He smiles back at you. “Don’t you want something to eat? I was gonna make you some tea or grab you something from the cafeteria.”

You shake your head, tugging at his shirt. He obliges, slowly sinking into the mattress next to you, and you open the covers for him to come under. He wraps his arms around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder, your own arms wrapping around his small waist underneath the covers. His warmth is addicting, and you slip your cold hands under his shirt to press against the naked skin of his chest. But Jungkook doesn’t complain and just lets you, his lips pressed against your hair and legs tangled in within yours.

He feels the crying before he sees them, the shuddering motion of your shoulders and the wetness against his own arm alerting him that you were crying. From what he remembered, you never cried when you were sad. You only cried when you were close to giving up, so frustrated and helpless.

So he does what he can do, which is just to wrap you up even tighter within his arms, and just presses his lips against your forehead.

You’re sniffling, muffling your cries to make it seem like you’re not as sad as you really are, but Jungkook can tell, by the way your usually confident shoulders are hunched into his torso, and the way you hide your face into his chest instead of happily smiling up at him.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, stroking your hair back as you wipe your tears away with a droopy sleeve.

You sniffle, rubbing your eyes until they’re dry enough for you to look at him properly. He’s inches away from your face and from here, even through your bleary vision, you can see the concern mottled in his expression and the genuine concern for your well-being. It felt warm. Nice.

You hadn’t felt that way in a while.

“Can you...can you just h-hold me please?” You whimper, and Jungkook nods sweetly, pulling you even closer and winding his arms around your back and securing you in place against his warm body. You can feel the muscle and the lean effort of all his training underneath his shirt, but right now, pressed against him, all you can really focus on is the steady heartbeat that thunders against your cheek, calming you down.

Training for the Olympics, although difficult to admit, was extremely stressful. It was always so physically demanding, but also mentally exhausting. The entire country was relying on you to beat the rival and win a gold this time, and it could make or break your career for the rest of your life. You had so many people on your shoulders. There was mom, who used to stay up nights sewing your costumes because you guys couldn’t afford the ridiculously expensive skating dresses, not until you started winning competition money. Or your coach, who was hard on you not just because you paid her to do it, but also because she cared to make sure you were feeling your best. Or Irene, and Hoseok, your amazing teammates who supported you through this, not distancing themselves from you when you started doing more rigorous training but instead sticking right by your side and encouraging you through it.

And then there was Jungkook.

He...he was so simple.

Physically, even, you felt no pressure. He wanted you, you wanted him. It was easy.

But emotionally, he was there for you. And he demanded nothing in return, and neither did you feel as pressured as you did with others to do so. Instead, that reciprocation came so naturally, whether it meant helping him plan out his finances for when he goes back home, or speaking to his mother who wanted to watch her son snowboard but couldn’t understand the directions to the hotel she was supposed to stay in, so you took the call while Jungkook was training and brought her in. Or even just giving him massages after his workouts to soothe the kink he always ended up getting near his ribs.

You felt at home with him.

Your breathe isn’t shuddering anymore and you’re just resting your eyes in his embrace when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Jungkook flinches at the sudden movement and you detach from him with a “sorry” and sit up to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” It’s your coach’s voice. Your eyes fly open as you yank the device away from your cheek just to make sure that it was real. It was. Her name was scrolling across your screen as she continues talking, “Where the hell are you? I was told that you would be in bed rest for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, coach,” you say, staring at Jungkook with panic, “I-I’m on my way back.”

“With who? Jeon Jungkook, that snowboard player?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, motioning for Jungkook to get the wheelchair. “He helped me back, we’re walking right now.”

She groans, “I don’t care where you are, but you better check the news right now. Call me back when you’re ready to focus.” She hangs up quickly, and you let your phone fall from your face with shock.

“Hey,” Jungkook mutters, cradling you close as he helps you into the chair. “What was that?”

“It was coach,” you whisper back, trembling fingers tapping impatiently at your screen to open your internet and type in the first news engine you can find. You pan over to the sports section and immediately see the blaring headlines with your name and face on it.

GOSSIP: OLYMPIC FIGURE SKATER ON DATE WITH OLYMPIC SNOWBOARDER JEON JUNGKOOK

“I saw them cuddling together at the ddukkbokki stand near my house the other night,” says spectator A. “They looked pretty close.”

Dating speculations about olympic competitors Y/N and Jeon Jungkook have been circulating after witnesses saw the two cozying it up at late night hours at a small diner near the olympic village. A reporter from Dispatch News has also released pictures and evidence of their interactions, including their public date last week, and more individual sightings with Y/N wearing Jungkook’s olympic hoodie and Jungkook hanging around the ice rink a lot more often.

Both accusations have been bringing lots of criticism to both athletes, for the Olympics are but a week away from today. Many believe that the athletes should have been using the time at the Olympic village training and preparing for their competitions, and have been critiquing Y/N and Jungkook’s choices to be letting go of their focus and instead focusing on each other.

Both sides have yet to respond to the rumors.

Comments:

[+452, -89] Isn’t Y/N the one who lost to Jennie last year? Didn’t she promise that she would “work hard” to win the gold?

[+232, -102] i don’t blame her, jeon jungkook is so hot

[+34, -98] I heard that the Olympic Village is just an orgy of all the athletes. It would be naive for us to think our athletes were all innocent and didn’t participate

[+89, -22] honestly they’re all just enjoying their lives and their twenties why are we criticizing them so much?

- yydnr replied: [+231, -43] well do you get paid millions of won a year to date around?

[+94, -14] ugh we dont even know for sure chill everyone

Your fingers tremble as you let the device fall from your hands. Jungkook is on the phone with his coach too, and you stare up at him with teary eyes as the look of realization dawns on his face and he briskly walks over to you and yanks the phone out of your hands to see the screen. He scrolls for a bit and he breathes out heavily through his nose, rubbing his eyes as he hands the phone back to you and tilts his head back.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “coach, coach, I’ll handle it, okay, no. Yeah, she’s here. Yeah. Okay,” he says, sighing and plopping down next to you on the bed. “Okay, I’ll call you back.”

He hangs up the phone, letting it drop, but you can still see the screen lighting up with notifications and missed calls and texts, but he must have set it on do not disturb. He sees the way you tear up and he tries to lean in to hug you, but you lean away and push him away, tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N?”

He sounds so hurt.

But you turn and let your legs swing over the other side of the bed. You grab your phone, dialing Irene’s number.

“Y/N?” She sounds worried, “Where are you, are you okay?”

“Jungkook’s dorm...can you come get me please,�� you whisper, and she hears the tears in your voice and immediately agrees to come get you.

“I-” you stutter, wiping away your tears and breathing in a deep shuddering breath, “I can’t d-do this, Jungkook,” you say, turning over your shoulder to look at him. He looks terrified, but he doesn’t move and continues to listen to you.

“There’s just too much at stake here,” you sniffle, shaking your head slowly. He mirrors you, shaking his head, “Y/N, no no no, what--”

“We can’t!” You exclaim, your voice breaking as you throw your hands up and sobs break out again. “We seriously can’t do this anymore, didn’t you see those comments on that article?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook argues, “Those comments don’t matter! It all doesn’t matter!”

“No but it does Jungkook! Those comments are right. Your life may not depend on this but mine does okay?”

“What are you even talking about?” he frowns, getting increasingly frustrated.

You turn to sit facing him and explain. “Look, Jungkook, you have a lot of brand deals and companies supporting you. If they figure out that you’re dating or anything of the sorts, especially during the Olympics, it’ll tarnish your image and all those brands will pull out. Then where will you get your income for the rest of the year that’s not the winter? Are you gonna go back to working at restaurants again? Is that what you want?” You urge, and Jungkook hardens at the mention of the last part.

You remember the way Jungkook finally decided to become a professional snowboarder. The thing with boarding was that other than the winter seasons, where he could probably compete, film promotionals, and model for winter clothing, there was no source of income unless brands were partnering with him to promote their athletic lines during off seasons. But here, image was everything, so if the public got even the slightest bit turned against Jungkook, then all those brands would pull out and he would have to resort to waiting tables, just like he’d done in high school, when his parents wouldn’t support his dreams and he had to support himself to attend the same camps that you and the other athletes did.

He’d worked so hard, and the times where he had to humble himself to resort to waiting tables whilst training incredibly hard for the Olympics, was such a hard time in his life, a time that you only knew about because you were hooking up with him during the athlete boot camp.

“And,” you continue, tears welling up again, “Jungkook, you know where I come from. I...I don’t have that leisure, to just give it all up. I don’t have brand deals like Jennie does, and I barely get commercials and competition prizes that at least cover the minimum expenses for my training, my skates, and my coach. I...I can’t do that to my mom. Even if this is the thing that I wanted the most,” you watch the way he perks up with a sinking heart, “Even if, I can’t do that to her. Not when you and I both know how hard she worked by herself to help me get to where I am now. I can’t.”

The moment you finish, two rapid knocks sound on the door and you and Jungkook look up warily to the sight of Seokjin and Irene standing there with apologetic expressions.

“You ready?” Irene whispers, and you nod, and she comes helps you get on the wheelchair. Jungkook just watches you and his hands reach out a bit when you stumble while getting up from the bed, but he lets you go.

You take one last look as Irene wheels you out of the room with Seokjin holding the door. Jungkook is sitting on his bed, hands clasped around his buzzing phone, watching you leave with red-rimmed eyes.

And you bury your face in your hands as you let the sobs rack your shoulders.

“One, two, three, four, turn, spin, and up!”

Your coach claps the right beats as you match her voice with your steps and perform the routine in your shoes.

It’s been a week since the ordeal happened, and like any other gossip mill, the scandal had faded out and gotten lost within another celebrity dating rumor that thankfully seemed to bury yours. For now.

In that week, you’d taken two days to heal completely, and then went back on the ice and trained literally 24/7. You couldn’t sleep properly either, so most of that time you spent either on the ice or stretching, or doing cardio. Your diet was stricter than ever, and according to this morning’s weight check, you were now 11.2 pounds lighter, meaning you’d shed the weight that you’d somehow gained so quickly with Jungkook and had lost extra weight on top of that.

Your turns were now tip-top shape, and your coach had stopped giving you those disapproving looks anymore and was now fully invested into making sure your routine would 100% perfect by the time it was your tournament.

Today was Tuesday, so you still had two days left until yours. Your performance was scheduled as second to last of the night, on Thursday, and so you had two full days to train and practice more before the final day.

You’re doing the stair master in the gym when Irene comes up to you and takes the machine aside yours.

“How are you feeling?” She murmurs, probably talking about the way you’d missed out on too much sleep the past few days.

“Fine,” you mutter, staring down at the screen of the machine. You’d been climbing for almost an hour and it was only at 300 calories. Literally the amount you’d drank in your protein shake for breakfast. You wipe some sweat off your brow.

“Are you sure?” she says, and reaches over to hold your hand.

“Yeah,” you say, turning to her with a sad smile. “Thanks. I’ll be okay even if i’m not okay.”

She bites her lip and furrows her brow. You told her the night she took you home, and she’d let you sleep in her bed as you cried yourself to sleep. She’d also taken the liberty to monitor the state of the article in your place, and make sure to delete all social media apps off your phone so you could focus.

It was why she was your best friend.

But no matter how much she helped you, how nice your coach was being and the encouragements your mom showered over you through your facetime sessions, it was impossible to fill that void that kept eating at your chest.

Going to sleep at night was so hard when the rooms were still cold with the heater turned on high, you missed the way Jungkook would curl himself against you, bundling you against his body and his warmth. Wearing your clothes just felt wrong because you missed the way his old clothes would just swallow you whole and make you feel safe and small. You even missed how you always had someone to call or text when you were bored or lonely or needed someone to talk to without having them make you feel like being an athlete was your entire life. No matter how many protein shakes you drank and calories you burned, the satisfactory feeling of just sharing a warm meal and drink with Jungkook was all you wanted to do right now to relieve the stress.

Irene’s hesitant voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “I’m asking because,” she begins, biting her lip and thinking hard.

“Because what?” You raise your brows, staring at her expectantly. Irene was usually a blunt person, and didn’t usually hesitate this much. “What’s wrong?”

“...because today’s his turn. For the games.” she whispers, wincing as she watches your expression go through a transition from realization, surprise, guilt, devastation, and nonchalance.

“Oh,” you turn back to your screen, not really feeling anything good when the 399 ticks to the 400 calorie mark. “Well, good luck to him.”

Irene stops her machine, smiling sadly at you. “It’s tonight at 6 if you want to watch with Hoseok and me. We’re watching for Seokjin, and...well you should be there too.”

You smile back at her, thanking her for caring, and turn back and raise the speed of the stairmaster. You couldn’t show up. There were going to be a thousand reporters and there was no way that your presence at his tournament would ever bode well, for you, for the tabloids, your mom, your coach, your career, anything and everything.

But as you step off the stairmaster with wobbly legs and a sweaty brow, your eyes linger on the televisions that hang over the running machines, automatically set to the games channel, where you can already see a couple other snowboarders having their interviews.

Taking a swig of your water, you sit yourself on the other side of the gym on one of the hip abduction machines, staring at the tv’s while pretending to do some 40 pound leg openers. You’re squinting a bit through the pain as you stare at the screen, hoping to catch the schedule of when Jungkook’s team was ready, but then Irene shows up again.

“What the heck, why are you suddenly doing hip abductions Y/N?” She frowns, curling her lip at the heavy lifting machine. “We don’t do that.”

You don’t answer her, and she follows your line of sight to the televisions. “Oh,” she mutters, smiling down at you sadly. “Ugh, Y/n,” she grabs your arm to catch your attention. You stare up at her, removing your earphones. “Irene! What’s up?”

She points blatantly at the tv. “I know you’re just doing these weights because you wanna watch the games without being obvious. C’mon, how long have I known you now? 10, 11 years? You think I won’t know that you want to go watch? Just go.”

“I can’t,” you hiss, pushing her back and leading her into somewhere less crowded. “You saw those comments on the tabloid. If anyone sees me or anyone who looks like me near the slopes, they’ll attack me, and even worse, Jungkook.”

“Aw,” she pats your arm, “You’re worried about him.”

You frown, swatting her hand away. “No, I’m not. I’m only worried about it because if I can’t appeal to the public then no matter what I win, those deals and cf’s that are supposed to make me money won’t come in.”

She nudges you with a knowing smile. “Whatever you say, y/n. Cause I definitely think you’re worried and I am 100% sure that you are totally, and completely in love with him.”

You stare at her in shock. “Love?”

“Yes,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re the ice princess and there has yet to be anyone to melt your cold cold heart, but you need to let go and just let him love you, okay? And you need to acknowledge that you have feelings for this guy. It’s been way too long since I’ve ever seen you feel like this towards anyone. So just go for it.”

“But I can’t!” you throw your hands in the air, collapsing into an empty stationary bike. “Irene, you know that if I go there, they’ll rip us apart like hyenas.”

She thinks a bit, furrowing her pretty face.

“Do you have anything to wear that’ll cover you up, but Jungkook will recognize?”

“This better work,” you mutter, shoving your way through the crowd, and burrowing your face into the neck of the yellow ski jacket that Jungkook gave you that one time he invited you to watch him train. It engulfed your figure whole, and so you wore a turtleneck and a hoodie underneath, tucking the fabric up over your chin to cover your features and wearing the bulkiest pair of pants to cover your legs. You’d gone back to the shop and borrowed the same pair of snow boots to wear as you trekked out to where Jungkook would be competing.

Thankfully, because of the weather, others were dressed similarly, decked from head to toe in protective winter gear, even with masks over the lower half of their faces. But the only thing that made you stand out was the obnoxiously bright color of your jacket. Hopefully, though, the blatant obviousness would be exactly the reason why people would avoid you, and Jungkook, would see you today.

You hustle within the crowd, trying to jostle your way into a better view of the slopes. Jungkook is currently at the top of the slope, adjusting his goggles and high fiving his teammates as he gets ready for the run of the day. The announcer’s voices filter through your earphones, and you listen as they introduce the athlete statistics.

“Alright, Minhyuk-ssi, so we have athlete Jeon Jungkook with us here today, the second to last competitor of the night. Imagine what it’s like, to be standing there on the top of the slope for the second time in your life, aiming to get your second gold!”

“Yes, Seungkwan-ssi, it looks really promising today,” Minhyuk nods on the screen of your iphone. “Jeon Jungkook, 22, representing the Republic of Korea and competing for the second time! The last winter Olympics, he stole the gold medal title as the youngest athlete to ever win the Men’s gold, and today he’s back to establish yet another milestone as the youngest ever athlete to win two back to back gold medals!”

Seungkwan leans forward, and the screen pans to the sight that you’re seeing with your bare eyes, Jungkook on the top of the slope. “Alright, he’s currently getting himself ready. Lot of pressure, lot of anxiety probably. And there he goes.”

You can see from down the slope the familiar image of Jungkook’s figure speeding recklessly down the steep slope with his left foot placed directly behind his right, not braking at all as he speeds incredibly fast towards the first two peaks.

Minhyuk comments quickly, “Okay, there he goes, up and over the hitching post, and easily over to the tail slide of the box there.”

Jungkook easily slides over the boxes, the bottom of his board scraping loudly and slamming with an echoing smack when he lands on the leveled ice. The people around you cheer politely, and you narrow your eyes at the sight and focus on the commentary of the announcers.

“And he nails the triple rotation 720, easily,” Seungkwan comments, as Jungkook sails through the air.

Minhyuk finishes off the rest of his commentary as Jungkook goes through some routine simple flips and tricks. “Now, Seungkwan-ssi, this last one, the triple cork 1440 with three head dips, it’s a difficult one. Jungkook tends to over-rotate his upper body when he’s nervous, but let’s hope he executes this one well. There he goes!”

With the escalation of the announcer’s voice, the entire crowd silences in anticipation as Jungkook speeds incredibly fast towards the last huge hill, and as soon as his board leaves the ramp, he rotates his body, and flips once, twice, three times, and four! His board lands with a thwack against the snow and he raises his arms in a cheer that’s drowned out by the way the crowd explodes in cheers and shouts of his name.

You shove the phone into your pocket, now trying your hardest to see what’s going on in the midst of all the fanfare and chants, but everyone begins crowding and shoving and jumping all at the same time that you’re drowned out and you can’t see a thing. But one thing that you can see is the score board located at the top of the hill, and everyone silences again as the announcers begin collecting points.

“For athlete Jeon Jungkook,” the voice booms, “88.02!”

The crowd erupts in cheers and immediately the screens change to the image of Jungkook hugging his coach and his teammates, smiling triumphantly and throwing his beanie and goggles off to raise a high fist in the air with a brilliant cheer. You weasle your way in between bodies, trying your hardest to fit your body through the crevices made between people hugging each other and cheering for Jungkook, eventually making your way to the edge of the crowd, against the fences.

You don’t say much, because you’re sure that if you do, you’ll just call more attention to yourself. But you wait, patiently, shoulders bustling against the pressure of the people behind you trying to get a look, and bracing your gloves fingers against the cold metal of the fence, rooting your spot in the front.

Slowly, Jungkook turns away from his friends and teammates, politely twisting around and surveying and waving to the crowd of supporters who have come to cheer for him. His crinkled eyes, pushed up by his huge smile, sweeps over the crowd, but they settle in your direction as his smile wavers and his arms raised high over his head pause a little in their waving. His eyes lock.

You wave back.

Decked in the whole getup, sunglasses that cover your forehead to your nose, a mask pulled over your nose and your lips, a turtleneck that covers your chin down, and the yellow hood pulled tight over your hair, there’s no way that anyone here except Jungkook would know.

You hope he sees.

But he resumes his waving, only faltering a milisecond before he just keeps going as if he’d never seen you at all. You slump, hand falling down as you give up resisting the excitedness of the crowd. They push you back furhter, and you let it take you to the outskirts, almost as if riding a current, until someone’s elbow sweeps over your head and knocks off your hood and your sunglasses.

The said perpetrator turns in his heels, an old man who was probably cheering for Jungkook, about to apologize, when he sees your face as you stand up straight from picking up the sunglasses. His eyes furrow and then round as the recognition crosses his face. “A-aren’t you--??!”

Before he knows it, you sprint back towards the directions of your dorms, and you don’t look back.

“Oh my god, how was it?!” Irene screeches when you stumble back into the dorm, shaking off the snow from your jacket and leaving on a rack to dry. She stands and helps you take off the chunky boots. “Did anyone see you?”

You rub your eyes. “Just one guy. But I ran away before he could even finish his sentence.”

She pats your back comfortingly. “He did well. For those of us who were watching the live stream, there was no sight of you, so thank goodness the cameras were just focused on Jungkook. You’ll be okay.” She guides you over the couch of your shared room, where Hoseok and a couple other teammates are watching in support of their childhood friend. “He’s doing his press conference,” she explains, “The athlete after him lost by a couple points. He got the gold medal.”

Your heart warms and blooms in five thousand different directions as the burden and anxiety on your shoulders falls, and you settle into the cozy cushions of the couch with a cup of hot tea that Hoseok hands you. Jungkook’s face is plastered on the huge HD tv, smiling as the reporters around him crowd to get a good shot of the new record-setting olympian. After his pictures, Jungkook is lead to a panel table where reporters begin asking him questions.

“First of all, Jungkook, we all want to congratulate you on your win.” The room erupts with claps and cheers. The reporter goes on. “How do you feel being the first and youngest olympian to win a back-to-back gold medal for the men’s snowboarding division?”

Jungkook’s face fills the screen, his dimples deep as his grins widely. “It’s so awesome, I’m so honored to be here right now and I’m so thankful for all my support and teammates for helping me to get to this place tonight.” He lifts the heavy metal around his neck and flashes it for all the cameras to see, smiling and grinning as the cameras begin flicking and flashing wildly.

“How hard was the training?” Someone shouts from the reporters.

“Not too bad, actually. Because this time around I knew what to expect both in terms of the physical and mental challenge of being in the Olympics, it was much easier this time around.”

“How about the next winter olympics?”

“I’m going to see how I do, but even winning one gold was way past my biggest and wildest dreams that I can’t really imagine how much farther I want to go. I have a feeling though for the next year or so, I’m going to take some time off to finally enjoy snowboarding as a hobby again, instead of my profession. It’s what keeps the creativity coming.”

“And about your scandal with y/n?!”

The cameras begin zooming in wildly as the channel tries to avoid panning toward the frantic gossip news reporter who’d somehow managed to make it into the questioning room. Jungkook’s expression twitches, the grin always staying proud on his face, but you can tell that he’s caught off guard. The room you’re sitting in goes quiet as Irene leans forward to listen to how Jungkook responds.

“This year,” Jungkook begins, clearing his throat, “was a year that harbored a lot of surprises and achievements that I’d never even dreamed of. I’m just really thankful for all the support that I got, whether it was from my teammates, fellow Olympians, or even close friends. I’m thankful for y/n, my team, my fans, and everyone I met during the games here, and I hope the best for all of them in the next coming games. Next question please.” He smiles as the camera gracefully pans to another sports news reporter who asks him how he felt about his teammates.

The room deflates in relief, and you’re sitting there, eyes glued to the screen that zooms into Jungkook’s flawless face, and you swallow thickly.

“Damn,” Hoseok breathes out, blinking between you and the screen, “Well that was uncalled for.”

Irene nods. “He answered well though. Guess that’s what being in the spotlight does for you. He didn’t affirm nor deny and just glossed past it. That was pretty smooth.”

You bite the rim of your cup.

Hoseok shakes his head though. “He didn’t deny it though, won’t that just cause more drama?”

Irene shrugs, turning to you. The others have shuffled out of the room, leaving you and your teammates to speak privately. “So, what are you guys? Since you broke up with him, are you guys just strangers? Friends?”

You shrug, half-mindedly stirring the tea. “I...I don’t know. We never were dating, anyways. So I don’t know what that means.”

“Y/N went to go see him though,” Hoseok comments. He turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Did he see you?”

You shrug again, blinking at the yellow jacket that’s hung up on the coat rack to dry. “I’m really not sure. Even if he did see me, I’m not even sure if he recognized the jacket in the first place. I...I just don’t know.”

Irene pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it for now,” She says lowly, “The competition is the day after tomorrow, so you should get some rest.”

You nod and turn in for the night, crawling into your covers as Irene and Hoseok make their way to the rink to get in some more training. You curl into your sheets, staring at the empty screen of your phone, scrolling through day-old notifications, hoping that the familiar ding would sound and Jungkook’s name would light up.

But it doesn’t.

You’re positive he’d made eye contact with you, but in the craze of his win, did he even have the time to register that it was you? Sure, he’d even said so himself that the yellow jacket was one of his favorites, and there was no way anyone could miss the bright colors, but was it really enough for him to notice you within the crowd of onlookers? You’d been so nasty to him, “breaking up” as Irene called it with him in the worst way possible, and for you to show up suddenly in the jacket he’d left behind, you’d doubt the possibility if it were you.

Too many questions plague your mind that night. You don’t sleep well.

D-1

“One two three four, jump! Good, and don’t over rotate--!” Your coach’s voice rings over the ice, as you huff out and land perfectly on the blade of your skate, turning gracefully as you pirouette into the next part of the routine.

She’d insisted on you getting used to wearing the full outfit, so you were decked out in the beautiful sky-blue dress, the chiffon material skirting and flowing around your thighs, and the polished whites of your skates stiff against your ankles. Your hair was slicked back into a tight bun, and makeup was done by Irene as you skirted through the routine.

Your ankle doesn’t hurt much anymore, just a slight twinge. It only bothers you when you land wrong on the triple toe loop, but you were just going to have to be more careful about that or else coach would take you out immediately and stop you from competing. Better to bow out earlier than to tumble and fall on the ice, she’d always said.

You finish the routine with the signature flourish, and your teammates who were watching on the sidelines clap with loud cheers as you finish and skate over to the sidelines where coach nods approvingly. In the corner of your eye, you can see Jimin and Seokjin sitting on the bleachers, grinning widely and throwing thumbs up at you from where they are and you flash a big smile and wave at them to thank them for coming. Irene gets on the ice next, ready to go through her own routine.

Coach walks up to you with a neutral expression.

“How are you feeling?”

You look up from your skates and lean back on the bleachers. “I’m okay,” You say thoughtfully, “I just need some good rest tonight.” You lean down to tighten your laces.

She nods, crossing her arms. “Are you sure? I didn’t just mean physically.”

Your fingers freeze, and you look up to meet eyes with her. She sighs, uncrossing her arms and taking a seat next to you. “I know I’ve been hard on you,” she mutters, “But it’s because we all see the potential in you. You can do whatever the heck you want after the games, but during, you need to stay focused on what you’re really really passionate about.”

You take a look at her. “Coach...thanks. For everything.” Coach was a great great woman, she was kind, and driven. But you know that a particular reason why she’s been so hard on you is because she knows what it feels like to lose focus during a competition and reap the consequences. The last olympics she ever did was the same one where her rival had won a world record, and feeling nervous for her own score, had tried to add a bit more flourish to her practiced routine and tumbled on the ice because of it. She’d twisted her ankle during the fall and had thus ended her professional career on the ice that she’d once loved and thought she’d be on forever.

She nods, and then stands, brushing off her pants. “Um,” she says awkwardly, “There’s someone here to see you... Might help you put a lot of your thoughts to rest before the games.”

You frown as she walks away, and then Jungkook rounds the corner.

Your jaw falls open as your fingers still on the laces of your skates. He hesitates as he sees your expression, but nonetheless kneels in front of you and grasps the laces from your fingers and begins tightening them like he did with your snow boots.

“What...what are you doing here?” You whisper, glancing around to see if there are any reporters around.

He doesn’t say much, but just finishes tying your skates and then just leans back to look up at you. His dark circles are horrible, mirroring yours. “I asked your coach to let me see you. I wanted to say something before the games started.”

You frown, staring down at your knees. “I...”

“Wait,” he cuts you off, taking your hand in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “I just came here to say this one thing. I saw you there. During my win. And that made me think a lot. And I’ve come to this conclusion:” he looks up at you, staring at you for a moment before continues. “We’re both really young, and at the peak of our careers. I know what you’re scared of, and I know what’s at stake. We have to prioritize our careers, and our goals. So I understand where you came from, but I also want to prioritize my dreams. And my dream is to be with the one I really care for.”

Your eyes widen, “Jungkoo--”

“--And I know your competition is tomorrow, so I wanted to tell you this before you compete: I support you and I’ll do anything you decide. It’s all in your hands, and I trust you. So, go out there, and kill ‘em.” He smiles, squeezing your hand once and fingers reaching out to brush your cheek. He leaves after that, leaving you on the verge of tears.

In the corner of your eye, coach nods at you, in mutual understanding, and walks away.

D-day.

“And now we welcome, Y/N, the final competitor of tonight’s female figure skating competition.”

You slide onto the ice with a smile, keeping your eyes on the ice and making sure it wasn’t too scratched up. You skate around the rink, getting a feel for the entire circle and then slowly centering yourself on the ice.

Jungkook watches from home, leaning into the television to get a better glimpse of the live stream. The announcer begins his commentary as you skate around and begin to center.

“We’ve seen Y/N a lot these days, and it’s her second Olympics of her career. What do you think is in store for her today, Hani?”

“Well, Seungkwan, Y/N is one of the ones I’ve been looking forward to. Last year was a bit of a rocky run, she just barely missed first place to Jennie Kim by a couple of points because of a sharper turn, but she’s been training hard for the last four years to compete today.”

“Yes. She’s outrageously popular, not just as an athlete, but for actually becoming an ice princess, because of how steely her focus is when she’s on the ice. She absolutely embodies the music and her motions are so in tune with her skating techniques for her age. It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

“Will she be able to handle today’s competition though? We’ll find out. Jennie Kim in the lead with a 216.73. After Y/N’s short program score of 74.92, she’ll need at least 141.82 to get that gold tonight.”

The camera zooms in on your figure, crouched low as you flutter your hands around you gracefully as you get into your starting position. The low notes of the piano sounds out, and you begin to spin gracefully, meeting the judge’s eyes with a playful smile.

“It’ll be this first combination that starts us off, the triple-triple combination, and OH! Yes! She lands it beautifully,” you spread your arms out as you do a beautiful twirl.

“And then the triple loop?! Wonderful! A little smile after that difficult move,” Hani comments as you grin a bit at how clean the jump was. You twirl and land a couple more simple spins and the usual footwork.

The music slows down into a swell of strings, signaling the end of the number. Jungkook watches, mesmerized as you glide effortlessly over the ice, just as he’d watched you do during practice.

“The last hurdle in this performance,” Seungkwan comments, “the triple lutz...?! Yes! Perfect! Oh my god this is one of the greatest performances I have ever seen!”

The music swells and swells as you finish off with a flourish of your arms. The crowd jumps to their feet and cheers, and Jungkook and his teammates do too, clapping for you. You’re crying, as he watches you on the screen, collapsing to a crouch on the ice as you sob, shoulders racking as you try to collect yourself and wave to the crowd. The small ice skaters come in their cute little uniforms, collecting the roses that have been thrown to you after the performance.

You clambor off the ice, meeting your coach and your mom in a huge hug, and Hoseok and Irene smiling at you from a bit off. It was everything you’d hoped for, and your body wracked with tears as you sob into the sweater of your mother’s comforting arms. Your ankle buckles under you, giving way to all the pressure and the pain and the burden that was suddenly lifted off your shoulders, your coach yelping and lunging forward to catch you.

She helps you to the bench, in the kiss and cry area where cameras are loaded and ready to film your reaction to your score. The announcement comes quickly.

“The scores please for F/N L/N of the Republic of Korea.”

“She has earned a 150.06, which is a seasons best!” The crowd erupts in cheers and screams and your coach bursts into tears and turns over to hug you. You’re frozen in fear and surprise and shock and it all crashes when you burst into tears, haphazardly waving back at the audience and thanking them for their support.

The rest of the night is a blur of emotions and pictures and interviews and ceremonies and hugs and kisses. You barely have time to catch your breath and wipe away the makeup smears before the next news or tabloid is shoving their cameras and mics in your face, asking and congratulating you. Your coach and mom stay close, holding your flowers and fan gifts closely, making sure you don’t break down. Most importantly, your coach makes sure you stay in one place, not putting too much strain on your already aching ankle.

Finally, it’s time for the official press conference, and coach guides you towards the table set up for you. You take the seat, smiling and trying to keep your eyes open at the onslaught of flashing cameras and yelling reporters.

It begins. “Miss Y/N!” A BBC reporter asks, “How hard did you train to achieve this feat? The performance was amazing!”

You smile, “Thank you so much. After getting silver four years ago, I really wanted to make sure I was able to achieve my goals this time around. I trained everyday, for a really long time, and made sure I was taking care of my mental and physical health.”

Another tabloid reporter pops up with a smirk, “Was this also with the help of your friends? Any specific people in mind? Like a fellow medalist perhaps?”

You see your coach perk up in the corner, her posture becoming stiff as she catches your eye and shakes her head no. You both know where this question is headed.

You smile. “I had a lot of support from my teammates and my family at that time. My coach and I made sure that I was surrounded with as many loved ones as possible. Thanks to them, and my fans, I was able to power through! My regimen was pretty demanding, such as waking up early and having to train everyday and build up some more strength, but I’m grateful for this medal, and will continue training even harder so I won’t let anyone down.”

Easily, the conversation shifts to topics regarding your training, but you can clearly see the sly disappointment on the reporter’s face as she sits down with a huff. The press conference continues easily, and your cheeks start to hurt from smiling too much and your fingers grip the mic too hard for it to be comfortable. It ends easily, though, and your coach and friends happily escort you down the stage and into the waiting room.

It was over. It was finally over.

Coach lets you go with your mom to a her hotel that night. You lug your suitcase in with you, following in her footsteps.

She smiles at you as she settles on the bed, patting the seat next to her. You smile as you settle into the soft mattress, sinking into the warm cushion and shrugging off your coat.

“How are you feeling?” She murmurs, tucking a hair behind your ear.

You shrug, fingers playing at the strap of your medal. “Not sure. I’ve been waiting for this day for ages, but now that it’s here, I’m not sure what to feel.”

She smiles, turning you a bit so that she can start taking out the stiff pins in your hair. Your scalp aches from the way it’s been held in its incredibly tight bun these past few days, and you sigh in relief as her gentle fingers begin caressing through the strands and removing all those sharp pins and tight elastics. Her fingers pass through your jawline, and she sighs.

“You’ve lost even more weight than before you left for the village.” She mutters, her voice tinged with worry.

You chuckle a bit tiredly, “Mom, you know I had to watch my weight. It’s fine. I feel fine.”

Her fingers hesitate, “You don’t seem fine.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

She finally finishes, running her hands freely through the length of your hair and letting it down. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, she turns you to face her, and her hands come up to frame your cheeks, stroking the skin there. “You’re my daughter, I think I know when you’re fine and when you’re not.”

A chuckle escapes your lips, and you think it might be a defense mechanism at this point. “What?”

“I heard, from coach. About the scandal.”

Your eyes drop to your lap, not being able to meet hers. “M-mom,” you stammer, but her hands gently guide your chin up to look back into her eyes. They glow in the warm golden light in the hotel room.

“I saw the way you two talked right before your performance,” she urges, a hand lifting to trace over your brow. It brings a twang to your heart, and your eyes begin to water. “I know, sweetie. You’ve worked so hard, and you’ve placed so much burden on your shoulders.” A tear escapes, and she catches it with her thumb. “I could never be any more proud of you, with or without that medal. I’m just proud of the fact that you’ve become a healthy, beautiful, woman. My best friend, my biggest supporter. I love you so much, honey.” She says, a tear escaping her own eye. “I don’t want you to think that you need to choose between me and your happiness. You can have it all. I want you to go for it. I don’t want you regret anything. Or else I’ll regret not being able to tell you to go for it.”

The tears break, streaming down your cheeks as your shoulders rack and your mouth opens in a wail that you’ve been holding in for the past two weeks.

“Mom!” you cry, collapsing into her arms, “I love him so much!”

She just nods and pats your back, smoothing her palm down and in soothing circles as you cry it out. You cry, all the weight from the competition and the performance and the scandal all collapsing on your shoulders with a heaviness that you wash away with your tears.

She whispers, “I never really talked a lot about your dad, did I?”

You sniffle, wiping away your tears and staring up at her. “Not much, why?”

She smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “He was really successful, he was a medical student, and set to take over his father’s hospital. But when he met me, he decided he wanted to pursue art, and he was so great at it. His parents were so against his career choice and him marrying me, but he was so happy,” she smiles, “He passed so soon, he wasn’t able to see you come all the way here, but I know that he’s watching. And you know what he would say if he were in your situation right now? He would tell you to go for it, to follow where your heart is leading you.”

Jungkook’s head shoots up when he hears a loud pounding on his door. Locking his phone shut, he takes out his earbuds and bounds up to open the door.

His eyes widen, “Y/N--”

You lunge forward with your arms stretched wide, wrapping around his middle and cuddling him close to yourself. He’s warm, his heart thudding loudly next to your ear and his shirt smelling exactly like him. “Wait, Y/N, what’s wrong?” He says, shutting the door and an arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

You just bury your face into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin that makes your heart race. “I don’t want to leave here regretting that I didn’t get to say this.” you mutter into his neck, clutching the nylon of his athletic jacket between your fingers tightly. “I missed you, I’m so thankful for you, and I want to choose the one I love too.”

Jungkook’s body stiffens, and you screw your eyes shut. Maybe he was done with your indecisiveness. Maybe he was sick of waiting around for you, or maybe he was disappointed that you’re only saying this after both of you had won your medals. Maybe he thought you were a selfish bitch. His hands finally move from your shoulders to yours on his back, carefully unwrapping your fingers on his jacket. He pulls away, stepping back to look at your face.

You blink up at him. You’d prepared yourself for this. It wasn’t about him accepting you. It was about his decision, and his feelings.

But instead of pushing you away, and cursing at you, he squeezes your hands in his and smiles gently. “Are you sure?” He asks softly. “All the stuff you worked so hard for, it might end up being lost.”

You nod, smiling even though a few tears slip down your cheek. “I’m prepared for that. And honestly if this fame and hard work isn’t strong enough to withstand the reality of my happiness, then I don’t want it. I’ll work hard again anyway and build a reputation that matters. I’m sure of this, Jungkook. I want you.”

He doesn’t answer and just cradles your face between his hands and draws you in for a hard kiss. You sigh into it, hands wrapping around his wrists and stepping closer to him. But the both of you are smiling too much to be able to kiss properly, and it dissolves into giggles. You throw your arms around his neck and hug him properly again, laughing as he lifts you up and spins you.

You’d started skating when you were young because you thought those girls on the ice were like princesses in their pretty dresses and beautiful moves. You’d wished that maybe, just maybe, ice skating yourself would grant you a chance to a happily ever after too.

But you got something way better than a fairytale-princesses ending.

You got Jungkook.

#jungkook fics #bts fics #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #mine #writing #fics #jungkook #snow and ice

1K notes · View notes

diaryofanavengersfan · 5 years

Text

Fantasy (part 1)

Comethru Part 2

Electric part 3

Characters: Steve Rogers x OC

Warnings: Smut (fingering), fluff

Word Count: 3,231 words.

A/N: So this interesting idea popped up in my head and I decided to write a miniseries about this. If you would like to be tagged, please send me an ask!

“So you say you wanna get away We don't need a plane I could be your escape Take you to a place Where there's no time, no space I could be your private island On a different planet Anything could happen Listen to the waves Let them wash away your pain” (Fantasy by Alina Baraz)

After returning the infinity stones to their original places, Steve went back to isolating himself, burying his emotions deep inside him just like the first battle before New York. His days usually spent with general errands with the rest of the Avengers, going on small scale missions, going for a run in the morning, finding a quiet place to sketch or spending time at the gym hitting punching bags until they reach the other side of the gym. No one exactly knew (maybe Bucky) why Steve went back to the “old isolated self” but Agent Y/N felt it was time to find out when she found Steve dragging another punching bag from the large mountain placed on the corner of the large spacious gym. Agent Y/N was a new recruit to the team after the Battle of Ultron who worked closely with Maria Hill and Fury, just like Maria she got really close to the rest of the Avengers especially Natasha, Sam and of course the handsome Captain America. She clearly remembered how her stomach flipped when she met Steve Rogers for the first time, the true gentleman he was that everyone always appraised him for. She thought the simple crush would fade away, but it intensified as she started working closely with the team and even when she had a few hangouts with Steve. However, she felt her chances became low after she had a heart to heart talk with Steve after a morning run and grabbing a cup of coffee, when he told her about Peggy. She decided to bury her feelings for him and lock it when she saw the emotion and love in his eyes when he talked about her, sensing the look of regret and remorse about how he promised her a dance, but he ended up sacrificing his life and then going to sleep for 70 years. However, Y/N had to put a strong façade and genuinely told him, that she’s here for him as a close friend and she’ll always lend an ear to listen. The possibility of her being with Steve went from low to worse during the conflict between Tony and Steve, causing him to go on the run and protect Bucky. She felt her heart break, when she saw Steve and Sharon share a kiss as she assisted her to help Steve, Sam and Bucky, all she got from Steve was a tight hug “Thank you for everything Y/N, for being such a good friend. I’m going to miss you” he whispered. That’s all she was to him, a good friend. She smiled back holding her tears “Hey, I promised you I’ll always be here for you” As soon as they parted ways, Y/N let the tears flood down her cheeks, thankful that Sharon didn’t ask her why she was crying assuming that this was a difficult time for everyone. Things were a bit better between them when they reunited during the battle of Thanos, thankfully she also survived the snap, but there were very platonic and awkward moments between them when they were alone. Now 3 months later things never progressed from that level, when she was his muscular back flex through his thin shirt drenched with sweat, as he grunted while hoisting the bag onto the hook. She gulped, thinking it was now or never to make things better between them even though she can’t be with him she still missed the moments she had with him. “Steve” she lightly whispered, she hoped he wouldn’t hear her, but her whisper managed to echo through the gym making him straighten his back and turn back facing her. The intense look on his face softened after he saw Y/N, her hair was wet and was wearing a pair of swim shorts, and a light hoodie zipped halfway up her chest giving a peek of her one-piece swim suit. She lightly bit her lip seeing drops of sweat fall across his jawline, and his blonde locks untangled in a mess and his blue eyes looking directly at her. It didn’t help either when he softly spoke “Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked softly while walking to the bench next to her, slowly unwrapping the tape from his large hands. She cleared her throat, “Oh, um I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a few laps to tire myself out” she explained while pointing her thumb backwards indicating she came from the pool area. He raised his eyebrows and had a playful look in his eyes, while he zipped his duffle bag “A few? I bet you did like 50, do you even know how fast and how long you can swim? And yet people call me the super soldier” he remarked placing his hands on his hips. She rolled her eyes at his comment but was glad to see him ease down a little, but it turned back to the dejected look on his face he had for the past weeks. “Steve” she started “Are you okay?” she hesitantly asked. She regretted asking him after she saw the quiet look on his face but then he looked down on the ground and let out a heavy sigh.

“I saw Peggy”, Y/N heart stopped after hearing Steve’s confession they were seated outside the Avengers compound, on a bench next to the large tree a reasonable distance between them. She faced him, knowing he had more to say, “Tony and I went to Shield’s headquarters and while getting the tesseract, an agent suspected us, so I was hiding from security and went inside an office.” She furrowed her eyebrows, curious to see where his story was going, but let him continue “When I looked around the office, I saw a photo on the desk, it was me before the super serum, I looked back at the door and realized I was in hiding in her office. I heard a door open from the other side and I turned to the windows covered with the blinds, and I……I saw her” his voice cracked a little when he said that. He didn’t wait for her to say anything and kept going, “She still looked the same, still so beautiful”, Y/N smiled sadly at what he said, it really showed that he loved Peggy. “After we defeated Thanos, and when the world was back to normal, I knew that I wanted to go back to her, I had to go back. So that’s why I chose to return the stones so that I can go back to her, but I was too late” he explained, and her heart broke seeing a tear roll down his cheek. “When I was outside her house, going to knock her door, I saw her from the window, she was with someone else, she was dancing with someone else. The dance that I promised her, and she looked really happy.” Y/N scooted closer and took his hand, interlacing her fingers with his, “Hey, I know your blaming yourself for what happened, but this shows that sometimes no matter how much we try, time is now always in our favor” she softly explained. “Just because you’re not with her, doesn’t mean you love her any less, in fact what you did shows that you really love her. You wanted her to see happy and people that love each other do that. Also, just because she’s not with you doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you or stopped loving you, having the picture on her desk meant that you were and are special to her.” Steve looked up, his eyes looking more relaxed and a small smiling in his face, a content look on his face after a very long time. Her heart eased, and she melted into his hug after he brought her into a large warm embrace. “Thank you, Y/N, and I’m sorry for shutting myself out, especially from you” She opened her eyes at his confession, and thought of a crazy idea, when she broke from the hug, he trusted her sharing his secret, now it was the time to share hers. “You okay?” he asked after seeing the serious look on her face. “I wanna show you something” she said, he nodded trying to contemplate what Y/N was saying “okay” he simply replied. “Not now, tomorrow meet me by the pier after sunrise” she explained. “Okay” he sighed, yet extremely curious what Y/N wanted to show him tomorrow, they shared a small hug before saying good night, but he was a bit caught off guard when Y/N turned back to him and said, “Oh and bring your swimming shorts.”

Just like Y/N asked, they met at her sailboat at the pier right after sunrise and she sailed to the deep blue sea, throughout the journey Steve asked a few times where they were going but Y/N had a small smile on her face and kept saying “You’ll see”. Half an hour later the sky became a bit brighter and the sun was shining on top of them, she stopped the sail boat with the calm sea surrounding their boat in all four corners. Steve had a big frown on his face, looking around the boat curios on what Y/N wanted to show him “Uh.. you wanted to take me sailing?” Steve asked still trying to piece the puzzles together. “No” she giggled, feeling excitement in her chest as she walked to the front deck of the sail boat. She slipped off, her loose white blouse and her shorts revealing a baby blue elongated triangle bikini top matched with white bikini bottoms. Steve raised his eyebrows seeing Y/N revealing so much skin, he never seen her wear a bikini but always a one-piece but that never made her look less attractive. She threw her clothes at the back of the boat and extended her hand to Steve looking at him with a big smile on her face “Come on” she eagerly told him, he followed suit and got rid of his shirt and khaki pants revealing his swim shorts. “If this is a prank you planned with Sam and Bucky, this won’t be good” he murmured holding her hand. She tightened his grip, “Hey” she said making him look at her, “Do you trust me?” she asked looking intensely in his eyes, that’s when he knew this wasn’t a joke, and he wouldn’t lie to say that he was a bit scared. He took a deep breath then softly smiled at her “I do” She grinned at him before saying “Okay, on the count of one…. Two…..three!”, the immediately leaped into the water.

Once he was submerged deep into the water and opened his eyes, he was surprised to see the water clearly. He looked at Y/N and noticed she wasn’t holding her breath, and she gestured with her hands for him to stop holding his breath, he couldn’t describe what he was experiencing and feeling, he was breathing normally and that too underwater. Y/N then took his hand and they swam deeper, his eyes widened seeing the aquatic life around him. A pod of dolphins twirled around them and swimming to the other direction. They then passed by a mother and baby sperm whales. Chris felt he was in paradise when he was twirling with Y/N and when they were swarmed with a large group of baby jellyfish, adding a romantic feel. He looked at her, and his heart warmed seeing the glint in her eyes and dimpled smile on her face. They spent almost an hour underwater, swimming with turtles and playing with a pair of manatees. He really felt he was dreaming and was going to wake up any second, but what he was experiencing was real, after he followed Y/N back to the surface meeting the boat in front of them. Another reason he knew it was real, because he realized he was holding on to Y/N’s hand the whole time and he didn’t wanna let go. His heart sank when she broke the grip and swam back to the boat, him following right behind her. “Sooooo, are you a mermaid?” he broke the silence, as they were lying on the towels and sunbathing on the deck. She opened her eyes and tilted her head facing him “I don’t know” she confessed. Steve furrowed his eyebrows in mere confusion, let alone he was trying to process how he managed to survive underwater for a whole hour without any extra oxygen. “Whatya mean you don’t know?” he asked a bit to eager. She sighed and sat up hugging her knees to her chest gazing at the calm waters. “I actually discovered these powers or whatever they are after I joined the team.” The crease on his forehead smoothened waiting for Y/N to continue listening intently on what she had to share. “It started a few months before Berlin, I was out on a holiday with a few friends and we went surfing. We knew a storm was coming later that day, but we wanted to catch a few waves because it was out last day. However, the storm came earlier than expected and my friends swam ahead, and I got stuck in the waves, and they kept getting rougher making it difficult for me to swim to the beach. I was swallowed by the waves, and I saw I was headed for the large rocks in front of me. Without thinking I jumped off my surfboard and dove into the water, I opened my eyes and realized I wasn’t holding my breath and I could see everything underwater clearly, the fish swimming around me unbothered my presence. After I quickly realized what was happening to me, I quickly swam to the beach, and swam to the surface a few feet from the beach, making my friends believe that I was swimming right behind them.” Steve didn’t know what to say, and soaked everything what Y/N told him, as he sat up and also faced the sea. “Does anyone else know?” he asked looking at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze when she slowly nodded her head, “Apart from you, I told Fury, Dr Cho and Shuri” Steve nodded slowly at her answer, and figured out why they kept it a secret, if the world got to know about her capabilities, people would be after her, especially the ones with a bad intention. Y/N said exactly what Steve thought after “We all thought, that while trying to figure out what’s up with me, it’s better to live with this secret, rather than exposing it to the world and staying in fear every second.” He asked one final question “Why did you tell me?” This time she faced him with a small smile on her lips, “Because I care about you Steve Rogers, plus you confided in me and shared what you were feeling these past few months. This is the least I could do.” His heart fluttered hearing her response and his eyes followed her movement, as she laid back on the towel closing her eyes trying to soak up the sun.

Seconds later she felt something was blocking the light, she opened her eyes and saw Steve hovering her with an intense look in his face. She furrowed her eyebrows “Steve, what are you” but was interrupted when he crashed his lips into hers. Y/N felt her heart stopped and widened her eyes in shocked, she couldn’t believe that Steve was kissing her, on her boat in the middle of the sea. She closed her eyes and moaned when he nibbled her bottom lip, making her respond the kiss and open her mouth. They first shared a slow and soft kiss, taking their time to explore each other’s mouth and Y/N moaned loving how Steve lightly sucked her tongue at times. However, the kiss became eager and rougher by adding more bites in between, she gasped in the kiss when she felt Steve trail his feather finger tips down her neck, along the valley of her breasts, then her tummy and reaching her clothed core. She broke off the kiss and moaned loudly when she felt his fingers trail down her core, but Steve showed no intention of stopping. He laid beside her, leaving open mouth kisses on her neck and used his right leg spreading Y/N’s legs. She was feeling pleasure from all corners of her body, it took a while for her to realize that Steve slipped off her bikini bottoms and was gently gliding his fingers along her wet lips. “Holy shit” she whispered, and she felt herself getting wetter when Steve growled into her ears “So wet for me doll” She closed her eyes and held onto Steve’s head from behind when he spread her lips and teased her clit a little with his fingertips. He then slowly inserted a finger inside her pussy, both of them groaning in mere pleasure. Y/N had her head tilted against the towel and Steve’s shoulder, he breathed heavily into her ear while giving a few licks and nibbles “Fuck your so tight doll” as he slowly thrusted his finger in her pussy.

What Y/N was experiencing was beyond her fantasy, while he kept whispering sweet nothings and telling her she looked so sexy, he added another finger inside her. She moaned a string of profanities when she felt Steve curl his fingers and was hitting her g-spot. “Oh…. Steve!” she exclaimed, holding onto his wrist urging him to keep going “right there!” He started to finger her roughly, and she felt his fingers going even deeper and her breath becoming heaver when she felt the pressure starting to build in her lower abdomen. “Steve” she gasped, “I’m, gonna…. I’m gonna” barely managing to form any words with how ecstatic she was feeling, every nerve inside her feeling the pleasure he was giving to her. This time he hovered over her, his forehead touching hers “Y/N look at me” he panted, and she immediately opened her eyes seeing the desire in his dilated blue eyes. “Look at me when you cum” he whispered above her lips, Y/N whined in eagerness trying to hold the orgasm that was building below, but it took a few strokes of his thumb on her clit for her to let go. When she felt the wave of euphoria, she pulled Steve for an intense kiss, trying to muffle the scream of pleasure, her body jolted in excitement, but Steve placed his arm over her abdomen and glued her to the towel. After she started breathing calmly, he slowly slid his fingers out of her and what she witnessed was forever etched in her brain. Steve was slowly licking her juices of his fingers, his gaze never leaving her, and she could see the mischievousness in his eyes. Without saying anything, he pecked her lips and help her wear her bikini bottoms again. He then lied down with her again, spooning from her behind, placing light kisses on her shoulder and back every now and then and had his left hand interlaced with hers. Y/N knew there was no going back, she was crazily in love with Steve Rogers, all the emotions she tightly locked in her heart bursted. Yet her stomach churned, thinking if Steve felt the same way.

@imanuglywombat @southerngracela @justanotherloveaffair @et-lesailes @firstangeldragonranch @quaiderade @averyrogers83 @patzammit @jessestarr @firedolphin04

#Chris Evans #steve rogers #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #avengers #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans oneshot

116 notes · View notes

corpse--diem · 4 years

Text

Two-for-One Special | Rio & Erin

Summary: Rio gets initiated in on his first day of work by both of his bosses. Apparently, there is such a thing as too many Erin’s. When: April 27, 2020 Featuring: @3starsquinn

Orion had forgotten to ask Erin what he should wear on his first day. It was an easy enough mistake to make, especially since he had never really worked before. The bad thing was… well he didn’t really own much in the way of dress clothing. He had never had to own them before. He was able to procure a nice pair of jeans and a long sleeve button up shirt from his roommate’s. He hadn’t mentioned to them yet that he had gotten a job. Since Ricky refused to let him pay rent, he had to find other ways to be useful. But rent or no rent, without his parent’s Rio was going to need money. Besides, he was surprisingly excited to get started. Sure, he was a bit apprehensive about working at a funeral home. Death wasn’t exactly his favorite thing in the world. But his job didn’t involve working with the dead bodies anyways, plus this wasn’t a place his parents would ever look for him. He made his way into the funeral home, to check in with his new boss. He was… well he was a bit lost. He didn’t know how first days worked. “Hey there.” He smiled nervously, having just met his boss Erin a few days ago. This had all moved pretty quickly, which he had appreciated. “I’m reporting for my first day! How’s it going?”

Erin was already at the front desk when her newest employee arrived. The kid had zero experience but it was his attitude that had won her over by the end of their meeting the other day. And of all the other applicants, the few there were anyway, he was the least likely candidate to be found trying to sneak into the embalming room. Funeral homes attracted some real weirdos, but Rio seemed earnest enough. And having lacked an assistant for over a month now, she was desperate enough to give him a chance. She gave him a bright grin as she shuffled some papers behind the desk. “Hey there. Right on time, too. We love that stuff here,” she teased gently when she saw the slight trepidation in his features. That typically went away after her employees’ official day one initiation anyway. She grinned wider at the thought, then gestured for Rio to follow to her office. “I just have some paperwork for you to fill out. Boring first day stuff. I’ll leave you to it and check up on you in a bit?” She hesitated in the doorway a minute when she noticed his jeans. “Not a big deal because it’s your first day but I would like it if you could get some black slacks in the next couple of weeks. Should’ve mentioned that before, so that’s on me.” She smiled reassuringly, already starting to backtrack away. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me!”

The nerves were enough to make Orion break out into a sweat, but he wiped it away as nonchalantly as he could and began following Erin through the building and towards her office. “I’m super excited to get started. I really appreciate this, and your help with everything.” He grinned, flipping through the paperwork as she explained it to him. He knew all of this stuff. Technically speaking. He was a nerd after all, knowing boring stuff about government documents and information was sorta his thing. But he had never actually filled out one of them before. He nodded, falling into a chair so that he could start filling everything out when Erin mentioned something about the pants. Oh no. He definitely should have tried to steal some khakis from Winston. He was sure they had some. “Yeah, of course! Sorry, I uh- was trying to figure out what I should wear. I’ll pick some up on my way home so I have them for tomorrow.” He smiled shyly, cursing himself for not being more proactive in the dresswear department. Then again, he hadn’t exactly planned on being on the lookout for a job until he started looking for internships next year. “Thanks again! I’ll get started on this.” She left him to work on the paperwork and he started working through it… probably rather slowly. Since he had never actually filled one of these out before, he figured the best way to not screw something up to was to make sure he read everything. Line by line. At least he was a fast reader.

The more he spoke, that raw panic mingling with his words, the more Erin could tell this was definitely his first job. “Not a problem, seriously. You’re helping me out more than you realize. Take your time,” she gave him a comforting smile and closed the door halfway to give him some privacy. She took care of a few legitimate things that did need to be done. With a glee that only came just before some well-planned trouble was about to occur, she took to the viewing room where an empty casket sat towards the end of a row of empty seats. Carefully, she slipped inside with the skill of someone who’d done this before. It’d been some time since she’d left him so it was likely he’d be done any minute now. As she shut the lid, she couldn’t hear anything else. Especially not the ominous closing of another casket lid just down the hall.

Orion made a decent amount of progress through the paperwork before getting stuck. Was a direct deposit mandatory? Because he didn’t have much of a bank account. Or a bank account at all. He had a savings account that was hooked to his parent’s bank. Definitely not the smartest choice to try to use that. He made his way out of the office, slowly following the hallways, in an attempt to hunt down his new boss. “Erin?” Rio called out, trying not to be too loud. On one hand, there could be others here, someone visiting or something that Rio didn’t know about. On another hand, Rio had been forced to watch enough horror movies to know how stupid it was to go around asking if someone was there. The funeral home could be a bit… unsettling when traversing it by itself. But maybe that was just because of the whole death thing. “You there?” He called out again, even more quiet this time, “Just had a quick question.” He still held the pen that he was using to fill out paperwork and he found himself gripping it tightly, clicking it in and out rapidly as he moved into a room with a few caskets lying around. Lovely. He skirted around the caskets, moving through the room and trying to beeline out of there to find Erin. He froze when he thought he heard something. Had that come from inside a casket? Leave, leave, leave. Rio ignored the noise and kept moving. It was about ten steps from the exit when a casket lid popped open and Rio shrieked, jumping out of his skin and quite literally jumping multiple feet away from the casket. And outside of it… Erin crawled out of it. And she was… dressed like a mime? “Holy crap. You scared the bejeezus out of me.” He laughed nervously, trying to hide how genuinely terrified he was. The discomfort didn’t ease with the mime outfit. When had she even had time to dress up and put the makeup on her face? “You got me good. How long have you been waiting in there?” He asked, eyeing her strangely as she… well she refused to talk. She just crept around the room now, not breaking eye contact with Rio. “You’re uh… really dedicated to this bit, huh?” He laughed again, taking a few further steps backwards. She was a local after all, he shouldn’t be particularly surprised by the mime thing. “You know, my question wasn’t even that important anyways. I’m just gonna… go back to the paperwork. So uh… carry on.” He spun around and made his way back the way he came from, not quite sure if he was planning on going back to the office or just leaving the place entirely.

The mime made a show of the belly-aching laughter that should have been rolling from her lips after that excellent scare. One of the best this funeral home had ever seen. She patted her own shoulder, giving a silent nod to show how proud she was of that one. But no! The boy was leaving and the game wasn’t over yet! A wide, tight-lipped grin spread across her painted features. She adjusted the bowl hat on her head and ran out to catch him in the hall. A simple tap on his shoulder and she pulled back. Put a finger against her lips to signal him to keep quiet. Follow me, her gestures pleaded with him, a wicked glint shining in her eyes. She walked backwards, taking large steps, then disappeared into the viewing room. Completely gone from sight by the time Rio entered.

From inside the casket, Erin could hear shuffling and instantly grew excited. The rest of the staff was either done for the day or out taking care of other things, so it truly was just the two of them in the building. Her heart pounded when she was sure he was in the room. Carefully, but quickly, she tossed the top portion of the casket lid open and let out a proper holler that would and should have absolutely sent the kid into a panic. Rio didn’t disappoint and Erin couldn’t help the heart laugh that bellowed from her when the payoff came. “Oh, kid, I’m so sorry,” she sat up in the casket, holding her hand to her chest. “That look on your face,” she laughed harder, shaking her head. “That was gold. It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to do that. Please don’t quit,” she half pleaded, but the laughter shaking her was nowhere close to being finished.

Joke or not, this was basically Orion’s worst nightmare. Erin was bound determined to keep the charade going though, tapping his back, making him jump yet again and then beckoning him into another area of the home. This had to be some kind of initiation ritual right? Like some hazing right that all new employees of the place went through on their first day. It was a bit extreme, if so. Rio made his way into the new room, glancing around for Erin even though she seemed to have… well she was gone. Rio sighed, his tense arms finally relaxing at his side and he took a deep breath. Maybe this practical joke was finally open. His scream this time was even louder when another casket door swung open and Erin leapt from it, yelling out and once again testing the limits of Rios’s heart. He cowered down for a moment until the sound of laughing registered in his brain. His heart was pounding in his chest but when he looked back at Erin she was back to the clothes she had one when he first got there. He forced himself to laugh through his heavy breaths. “Jesus Christ you’re going to give me a heart attack!” He laughed again, “You do this everyone that starts?” He questioned, wondering how she had any employees left living. It wasn’t until Rio had somewhat calmed down from the trauma that he realized things weren’t adding up. “Wait… How did you get changed so quickly?” He asked Erin. There was no way that she could have gotten all mimed up and then gotten it all off so quickly. He had just been following her. “I just saw you like 30 seconds ago and you were completely decked out in mime gear.”

“I do! I do, I’m sorry,” Erin managed to reply after she finally let out a breath. The kid looked more frazzled than she’d ever seen any of her victims before though, and a part of her almost felt bad about the whole thing. Almost. “What?” She asked, softer, confusion halting the laughs in her throat. “I wasn’t wearing any mime—“ she started, silence engulfing the rest of her words. In the darkness behind the open door, a figure moved. It’s body shook like it was laughing, a deep, relentless bellow that had it nearly bent over, except no sounds came from it’s lips. It was pointing to Rio, and when it finally calmed itself, the figure grew eerily still. Watching them. Not moving, barely breathing by the looks of it. “Rio, come here,” she gestured for him to come towards her, panic setting in. She hoped to God the hard shift in her tone told him this wasn’t fucking part of the plan. When it stepped out from the shadows, Erin felt her knees buckle and her heart drop to her stomach. It was her. Her face under that face paint. Those were her eyes, blue and shining wickedly back at her.

Even the way it walked was identical to her own movements. Every slow step forward, she took one back, trying to at least put herself between Rio and her evil mime twin, whatever it was. It just kept smiling, gesturing with its hands something she couldn’t make out. “I’ll distract it and you run outta here, alright? Fast as you can,” she whispered to him, as if it wouldn’t hear her in the deafening silence. The mime reached into it’s back pocket at a menacingly slow pace, making a show of pulling… nothing out? It’s fingers curved around an invisible handle, like there should be a knife attached somewhere. Erin nodded at Rio once before running forward at the same time the mime did, picking up one of the many wooden chairs around them. She tossed one at it, then another, until it was knocked off balance and buried under a pile of viewing chairs. It was crawling out by the time she made it to the door. She slammed the door shut behind her and almost immediately a slam startled her backwards. A solid gash splintered the wood, leaving a mark where a knife should have been. Just a hole and an eye stared back at them. “Jesus—run,” she ordered, her voice and her hands shaking as she started to shove their way down the hall.

Something was wrong, Orion could tell. He just wasn’t sure what yet. When Erin told him to come over to him he began immediately giggling nervously, waiting for some other shoe to drop. Another portion of the prank, maybe. But it wasn’t until Erin shifted her gaze that Rio finally caught on, spinning around and noticing that… Erin was also over there. The silent, miming Erin that Rio had previously run into, within the same room as Erin herself. The real one as it were. How had Rio not heard them in the room with them? If he focused long enough he could probably hear the people in the next building working, so how come this… person(?) was completely silent? “Oh boy.” He muttered, slinking over closer to his new boss. What the heck was going on? Did Erin have some twin sister that she was using for this portion? If this was all part of some elaborate hazing scheme, Rio would be slightly impressed. And also probably quit. But Erin didn’t seem like she was joking. So when Erin took off, Rio followed after her, running ahead while she threw chairs at the moment and sliding into the doorway, waiting by the frame for Erin. After Erin slammed it shut, and a hole appeared a few seconds later, but with no knife. “What in the holy…” Rio trailed off, taking a step forward toward the door to get a better look at the hole in the door. How had they done that? Erin didn’t seem to be as fascinated as Rio was, opting instead to shove Rio down a hallway further away from the door. Without looking back, Orion could hear the door rattling as the mime worked to open it. At least he could hear that. The two dipped out of the hallway into another room and Rio paused to focus out his senses, trying to catch something, anything. Why couldn’t he hear her? “What do we do? What is that thing? Please tell me this is just an elaborate prank.”

Every horror and slasher film Erin had ever seen was suddenly montaging in the back of her mind. “I don’t know,” she shook her head, shoulders bunching into a tight shrug. “I’m not--no. No. I had nothing to do with--that!” The door shuddered from the down the hall when the very angry mime railed against it. Didn’t sound like it had a lot of life left in it. Second door in two months she’d have to replace. “Okay, okay,” she forced herself to still. Breathe. Think. Where were they? Back in her office. Her eyes jumped to the window behind her desk and the rest of her didn’t hesitate clearing the windowsill to force it open. “I don’t know what the hell I did to piss that thing off but this is so not the way I pictured myself biting it.” It was a short drop to the ground below, a little less than ten feet. When the deafening crash echoed down the hall, she gave Rio a good shove to hurry the process along, then immediately piled out after him. Not before she felt the mime’s blade slice along her calf at the tail end of her dive to the ground. Didn’t have time to process the fact that there was no visible knife in it’s hand. Her hand. “Motherfucker--” she grumbled at the sting of the minor gash, catching the sick smile staring down at them. They were on their feet and running through the backyard as it waved them off. When Erin glanced back again, the window was dark and empty once again. “Holy shit,” she muttered between deep, heaving breaths, already checking over Rio. “Are you okay?”

The reality of the situation was slowly washing over Orion. There was a mime. That looked exactly like Erin. With an invisible knife. Chasing them through a funeral home. Every single sentence was wild enough on its own. String them together and they had nightmare fuel. “I don’t even know what that thing is.” Rio said. He hadn’t heard a heartbeat or anything. Oh. The Window. Rio wasn’t crazy about heights. Then again, he was scared of most things. He climbed out first, staring at the ground. Apparently, he stared just a bit too long. He felt the push and tumbled out the window, falling for the ground and hitting it, tumbling forward and rolling onto his back. His legs and knees stung from the impact, and his shoulder stung from rolling against it. “Ow.” He mumbled, forcing himself to crawl up when he heard Erin jumping too. “I’m fine.” Rio assured, ignoring the pains when he noticed that Erin was bleeding. “Oh God, but you’re not.” He motioned towards the leg, noticing the cut. “We need to get somewhere safe.”

“You’re sure? You’re good?” Erin winced as she watched him grimace. She did feel bad for giving him the heave-ho, but it was either that or they’d both have more holes in them than they were supposed to right now. He was young. He’d shake it off, right? God. Day one and already her new assistant had come dangerously close to sharing a similar fate as the last. She silently pleaded with the old gods and the new that he wouldn’t quick right on the spot. “It’s not that bad…” Erin started, glancing down. Oh. Yep. Fuck. There was a decent amount of blood dribbling down her leg, filling her sock. The further they walked, the more she hobbled. She was pulling out her phone fingers hovering over the buttons when she froze. Fuck. Couldn’t and wouldn’t call the police outright. Last thing she needed today were those guys finding something they didn’t need to worry about. Considering it was the middle of the afternoon, and they’d gotten far away enough she could barely see the funeral home at this point, she took it upon herself to carefully plop onto her neighbor’s front yard. “I don’t know what the hell that was, and considering it sure as fuck wasn’t me, I hope to god I know someone who does.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: rio #//i can't believe cody is torturing this poor boy like this

9 notes · View notes

gerbiloftriumph · 4 years

Text

So you wanna be a king (pt3)

or maybe you just wanna cosplay one.

Continuing the cosplay semi-tutorial-semi-rambling for those who love one smol bean and wish to dress as him for funsies:

Part 3: Trousers and Boots

Okay, so, at this point you’ve probably spent at least $150, and at least enough hours to watch every Game Grumps King’s Quest LP (that's three and a quarter full games) three times. Likely more.

It’s time to pull out your screencaps again, to remind yourself why we’re here.

(it’s for this cute face, with all his determination and compassion and bravery and intelligence. That’s why.)

You’ve got a jerkin (pt 2) and a cloak (pt 1) but it’s indecent to walk around without anything waist down, so let’s a’stitch some trousers. And also some boots while we’re at it.

Trousers!

When I was at the Renfest, someone asked me where I got my neat blue riding pants. Well, for starters......they’re yoga pants. And also, Goodwill. Have you noticed a trend with me yet.

This knobbly-kneed lad is definitely not pulling a Men In Tights routine--there’s too much definition and stiffness in the wrinkles. I decided on sweatpants, though, because why not? May as well be comfy. (The more accurate fabric choice would probably be like, a khaki material, but, nah). I selected two separate pairs in the colors I wanted.

Because this costume isn’t warm enough, I attached the lighter pair over the darker rather than Frankenstein-sew two chopped parts together. It’s kind of like wearing pants and a half. Because I’m the monster. And also I was concerned that long-term wear would weaken the stitching if I pulled a Frankenstein, and this costume has been time consuming enough without risking it falling apart on me.

What that means is this: I put on the darker pair, measured about how wide it looked Graham’s pants were vs on me, turned the lighter pair inside out so I could mark the width on them, and cut out a long and bizarre looking rectangle from the inner section of the light pair.

The reason why we cosplay is to get into our favorite character’s pant--no, I’m sorry, the joke’s too bad, I’ll see myself out.

I selected three inches wide on either side of the inner pant hem, so six inches wide in total, from ankle to ankle. This does mean there’s more fabric around the ankle since they naturally slim down, but the boot covers that. Since the lighter pair had an elastic stretchy cuff, I left that intact so the pants wouldn’t bunch up when walking.

Immediately after cutting out the light pair, I ran it through my sewing machine with that herringbone stitch (the zigzag triangles) to “seal” the fabric edge and prevent fraying. It gives it kind of a bubbly textured look if you look closely, but if you’re not about that life, you could cut out an extra inch and hem it back for a straight clean line.

I then carefully lined up all the hemlines, light to dark, pinning as flat and evenly as possible. Then, hand sewing. Bane of my novice cosplay life.

First I stitched hemline to hemline so it would be precisely centered, then again along the edges of the light fabric. So I sewed this thing by hand three times, paying special attention to the area where the legs intersect since that’s where the most friction from walking and picking up inventory items and the like will wear. Just sew along existing hemlines. It can be sloppy; no one will ever see your stitches--unless you turn it inside out to make a semi-tutorial for strangers on the internet, and then they’ll laugh at you.

If you feel fancy, you can add the thick patches on Graham’s trousers. I didn’t bother at the time because it felt like a bit much, but I do really like those patches. Maybe someday.

Also, you should probably handwash this piece too. Unless you trust your sloppy stitches more than I trust mine.

Boots!

I’ma tell you a secret: my absolute favorite part of all of Graham’s outfit is the boots. I love them. I want a real pair. Like, with actual metal bits, not cheap eBay boots and shoe goo and hope. The boots are at least a quarter of the reason why I made this costume in the first place.

And yet, the boots were the last thing I made, more than a year after completing the rest of the costume. I wore shin-high lace up boots in the meantime, and it was fine, but knee length is truly the ideal silhouette against your cloak. It does make a difference.

I’ve made boot covers before (Lynne, Ghost Trick, bright red), and it’s fine, but it’s also frustrating. I highkey recommend just modifying a regular boot. There are lots of gorgeous, expensive options out there, but in the end I settled for a bootleg boot from China (you know, the ones that are “fashion” but which all use the same stock image and are fake mimics for a fraction of the cost on eBay) for a grand total of...$25.00, with shipping. Ye boi.

According to the receipt this boot is an.....”American Rag Ada Round Toe Synthetic Over the Knee Boot.” Cool, deffo bootleg.

Another secret: I put gel inserts in both the toe and the heel, I wear gel-ankle socks over my regular socks, and I stuff the heels with leftover plushie-making cotton fluff. Because bootleg boots are cheap and blistery, and comic con floors are hard enough even with a nice sturdy pair of shoes, so seek every advantage you can. More cotton fluff. More! Stuff it in there! And also wear your favorite patterned socks, because it’s my tutorial and I said so.

Okay, back to the store. Get the following things: a small amount of stretchy black fabric, a small amount of gray fabric, a sheet or two of craft foam, a tube of shoe goo, and popsicle sticks or some other way to “paint” the goo. Also an audiobook to help pass the time. (can you believe no one’s recorded the King’s Quest novels into an audiobook form, how tragic.)

Using some of the boundless scrap you have from the rest of this cosplay, determine how wide you want the black pieces to be, and maybe the gray while you’re at it. That fully depends on your boot.

Cut out your black for the front and back pieces. They won’t be pure rectangles, but have a trapezoid curve to them to mimic the shoe curve. Pin and hem.

Apply shoe goo around the whole section of the boot you’re covering, as flat and even as possible, and stretch, apply, and pin your black fabric into place. Do little detail work with the popsicle sticks, and once it’s all pinned, leave to dry for a while. Ideally, overnight, so the glue can set.

Go play King’s Quest again or something while you’re waiting. It’s not like you have anything else to do, right?

This boot happened to already have a buckle on the back which I wrapped in gray fabric to mimic the silver on Graham’s heels--your boot probably doesn’t have this, so use this following method instead.

To get the silver cuffs, I cut out foam (you might have to look around for foam in a good thickness, or glue multiple sheets together--mine is, uh....the thick foam my bose headphones came in.....), and glued fabric over it. Then I glued the foam/fabric curve to the shoe, pinned it in place, and walked away again. I sure hope you like your audiobook. There’s a lot of downtime here.

This method works for the anklets too. Wrap foam entirely in black fabric. Hilariously, since it’s foam, I didn’t have any trouble pushing it through my sewing machine to add the gray on top of the black. Another secret: my anklets connect via elastic, so I can get the boots on while still having a snug anklet. No, it probably doesn’t look great if you’re walking right behind me, but there’s that 5 foot rule of cosplay that means no one should see it, and who’s staring at my heels anyway, that’s weird.

Cut thin regular plain sheet foam in the right size to fit over your toe. To achieve the curve, cut out little notches (you can just see a discarded notch in the included picture), then glue the edges together again sans notch. Bam, curve. Cover in fabric, glue to the toes of the boots like everything else, pin, and wait until dry (yes, overnight again--I did tell you about the audiobook).

And that’s that! (At least, for me: I have not done the laces on the front, or cut out the knee guard, or anything that requires actual intensive boot modification because I was in a hurry to go meet Christopher Lloyd and on a deadline and forgot to come back to it. No, for reals. Comic cons are magic places.) It’s held up for two full years at cons and renfests and even in a light rain without trouble, tho I do need to touch up some of the edges a bit.

Put the whole thing together: jerkin, cloak, cowl, trousers, boots. You’re looking fiiiine. All the cool cats are jealous of your sweet new kicks.

And with that, all the giant heavy pieces of your cosplay are done! It’s just accessories and details left. And the adventuring cap, one might argue the most important piece of all. But we’ll get there. Probably. As long as this is helping someone.

#King's Quest #kings quest #King Graham #cosplay #okay i admit i'm stalling because i don't remember how i made the hat #i'll get to it maybe #tutorial

25 notes · View notes

memesiders · 4 years

Text

Part 5

Death x OC Office AU

I hit send and sighed, leaning back in my seat. Three cancelations, two rescheduled meetings, and a bunch of chain letter spam all before one. Not to mention the hour I spent on the phone trying to get a definitive time for one of the rescheduled appointments.

“It gets easier,” Nora reminded me for the fourth time today. There were dark circles under her eyes and she seemed less cheerful than she had earlier.

“Will it? Cause right now, all I want to do is reach through the phone and choke out the next person who won’t give me an answer,” I replied, rubbing my temples.

“It will, trust me. Just give it a year or two.” I snorted at her comment and she smiled, patting my back. “Seriously, it’ll get easier. You have to really practice patience.” I cursed under my breath and she laughed, picking up another call as the phone rang. I turned in my chair, moving from side to side.

My eyes landed on the elevator that Death and his brothers had gone in earlier. None of them had come down since then. What were they talking about, I wondered? Were they fighting? Discussing vacation plans? I chuckled quietly as the image of Death in a large sunhat, a Hawaiian shirt, and khakis popped into my head. I’d pay to see that. Though I’d bet money that Death never took any time away from work; he didn’t seem the type.

Maybe if his siblings dragged him out, even if only for a night on the town? Did he ever go bar hopping or clubbing? I could see him sitting at a bar in low lighting, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He’d be wearing a leather jacket and nice fitting jeans with some boots, and all the women would be afraid to make the first move, but some confident lady would chat him up and all the other girls would be seething with jealousy, wondering if she was the one he was going to take home tonight.

When had I started fantasizing about my boss and his life?

“Az,” Nora said, pinching me. I winced and swirled back to her, scowling. She pointed towards the doors and I looked over, sitting up straight as Neema walked in. Her short pecan curls stuck out from under her beanie, her oversized band shirt hanging off of one shoulder. She had on a pair of ratty old boots that Safiya had given her years ago and her pants had paint smudges all over them. She smiled brightly at me, waving wildly. I waved back, smiling myself, and stood as she ran over, throwing herself into my arms.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, hugging her tightly.

“I was bored so I thought I’d drop by and see your new job,” she answered, clinging to me tightly. I frowned slightly. Something was wrong, I could tell, but I wasn’t going to push the subject here. I kissed the top of her head and pulled back, gesturing to Nora.

“This is Nora.” The two waved at each other. My phone rang and I held up a finger, picking it up. “Hello, thank you for calling the CC Corporation, how may I help you?”

“Nora?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“This is not her, I’m sorry. My name is Aziza; do you need to speak to Nora?”

“No, my apologies. I didn’t know there was someone new. Please, forgive me.”

“It’s quite alright. May I ask why you’re calling?”

“Ah, yes, I need to speak with Death, please.”

“And who is this?”

“Azrael.” I put my hand over the voice box and looked at Nora.

“An Azrael is calling,” I said, lowering my voice.

“Put him through to whoever he wants,” she immediately replied. I nodded and uncovered the speaker, replying.

“Alright, I’ll patch you through.”

“Thank you very much,” Azrael said.

“No problem!” I hit the forward call button and hung up, turning back to Neema. She was smiling proudly at me. I returned it.

“My big sister is growing up so fast,” she said, faking a sniffle. I rolled my eyes playfully and checked the time. It was time for my break.

“You wanna go for a walk? I have a half hour to burn,” I suggested. She nodded and I let Nora know I’d be back before leaving the building. We started walking, no destination in mind. I glanced over as we wandered, noticing a frown curving her lips. Whatever was wrong was really bothering her. I wanted to ask but I was unsure of how to approach the subject. Was she upset with me? No, she wouldn’t have come if she was mad at me. Was it Safiya? Had something happened at home?

“Why are you staring at me?” I jumped as she looked at me, brow arched curiously.

“Sorry…” I scratched the back of my neck, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “I just… You seem upset, but I don’t want to push anything.” Neema gave me a small smile and wrapped her arms around one of mine, resting her head against my shoulder. It suddenly felt like she was a small child again, afraid to leave my side whenever we ventured out.

“There is something wrong,” she said, voice small. “It’s stupid.”

“Hey, nothing is stupid,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “If it’s bothering you then it’s definitely not stupid.” She giggled a little and then sighed.

“It’s Lyriel…”

“Ahh…”

“She’s going on a date… I was gonna tell her how I felt about her, but before I could she told me one of our classmates asked her out. She said yes…” I frowned and slipped my arm out of hers, wrapping it around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

“You should still tell her.”

“How can I? She’s going on a date!”

“Doesn’t mean it’s going to be a good date.” She looked up at me with glassy eyes and I felt my heart tighten; she was more smitten than I realized. “Look, you’re going to have many crushes and many loves of your life. You shouldn’t let the unknown hold you back. Lyriel is never going to know how you feel until you tell her, and you’re never gonna know how she feels either. What if she’s thinking about you right now? What if she likes you too but is also afraid to say anything?”

She looked away from me, letting my words sink in. Damn, you should charge people for this advice. I held back a laugh at my own thoughts and stopped walking, turning her to me. “You only live once.” She barked out a laugh, wiping at her teary eyes.

“Did you really just say that? God, you’re cringey,” she sniffled. I smiled.

“Yes, yes I did,” I replied. “But it’s true and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She hugged me tightly and I wrapped my arms around her, hugging back just as tightly. My smile grew. I wiped the tears from her eyes when we pulled apart and we headed back to the office, Neema now bouncing around happily. “So, Safiya told me about what your boss did for you.” I groaned, rolling my eyes. Great, now it’s her turn to try and lecture me.

“He only did it so I didn’t miss work.”

“Sure he did…” I glared at her playfully and she laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “I think perhaps your boss-”

“Don’t! I already heard it from Saf, I don’t need to hear it from you. There’s no way, no possibility that my boss wants to sleep with me!” A few older women walking by gave us a weird look and I blushed, ignoring them.

“He bought you a whole ass meal, ZiZi!”

“He was just being nice!” She rolled her eyes at me.

“He’s also taking you to a party.”

“Only because I want to pay him back.”

“He couldn’t have asked you to work overtime? Maybe take away one of your weekends?” I felt my face grow red and I rubbed my temples. God, this would never end, would it? “Look, all I’m saying is, I think there’s something more there than you think.”

“We barely know each other, Neem. I only ever interact with him when he’s coming or going. I don’t think I’m even his type.”

She rolled her eyes again. Her eyes must’ve been tired from all that rolling. “What do you think his type is, exactly?” I thought about it for a moment.

“Smart,” I started. “Confident, elegant, probably likes fitness and reading.”

“You like reading!”

“I haven’t picked up a book in a month.”

“You’re smart!”

“I almost failed math, Neem.”

“Would you stop putting yourself down?” It was her turn to stop me. She placed her hands on her hips and looked at me sternly. “You are a smart, confident, sassy beautiful woman. You light up any room you’re in and any guy would be lucky to have you on his arm!” I smiled a little. “You are more beautiful than any angel or supermodel.”

“I think that’s taking it a little too far, Neem.” She waved away my comment.

“You’re more amazing than you give yourself credit for.” I pulled her into a tight hug and she yelped. “Ugh, let me go!”

“Never,” I laughed. She sighed and hugged me back.

We got back to the office a few minutes later. Nora was coming back from her lunch break as well when we walked in. Neema had given me the small confidence boost I needed to make it through the rest of my shift and I couldn’t thank her enough for it. I still didn’t think Death was attracted to me, but it felt nice to hear such nice things from my little sister. We were just saying our goodbyes when Death and his brothers walked out of the elevator. Strife looked happy while Death and War wore looked tired and glad to be done with whatever had gone on up there. Death noticed me and broke away from the others, walking over.

“Miss Banks,” he said, reaching us. “Who is this?” He looked at my sister, who was now staring at him wide eyed, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. Her head was craned back as far as she could bend it.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “This is your boss? You weren’t lying when you said he was smokin’ hot.” I slapped my hand over my face, warmth radiating from my neck to my ears. Death chuckled quietly and I peeked through my fingers, noticing an amused glint in his eye.

“I take it this is the same one who placed that photograph in your resume file?”

“Guilty! Hi, I’m Neema, Azi’s little sister. We sort of met at the apartment.” She extended her hand for a handshake and he stared at it for a moment, brow arched and head tilted slightly. His eyes flicked back to hers and, hesitantly, he took her hand.

“I don’t remember, sorry. That day was quite busy for me.” She shrugged off his reply and nodded her head towards me.

“So, I hear you’re taking my sister on a date, huh?”

“What, why didn’t I hear about this,” Strife asked, appearing next to Death. The older brother rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a date. I’m bringing her to the party tonight. Fury wanted me to bring someone.”

“Since when have you cared about what our sister wants?” War asked, joining the others. Death ran a hand over his face, and I could’ve sworn I saw his cheeks turn a light shade of pink for a moment.

“I’ve decided to placate her for one evening,” Death grumbled. “Besides, Miss Banks offered.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I wasn’t going to deny it. He looked like he needed all the help he could get to get out of the predicament he was in. War grunted, seeming satisfied with his answer. Strife, however, was not.

“Why didn’t you bring Amber? Or some other employee? Hell, even Nora could’ve come!”

“I have a baby, you know,” she cut in quickly before answering the phone.

“Still, you’re bringing the newbie?” Strife wiggled his brows in a suggestive manner and it looked like Death was hanging onto his sanity by a thread. “Why big brother, how uncharacteristic of you.”

“Shut up.” Death narrowed his eyes at his brother, his fists clenched. I stepped forward and grabbed the sleeve of his suit, tugging lightly. He looked at me, confused, and I smiled.

“Probably not a good idea to beat your brother up in the lobby,” I said quietly. His eyes lowered to where my hand was on his sleeve and I quickly removed it, apologizing.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’re quite right.” Strife made kissing noises and this time it was Death’s turn to hold me back from clocking his brother. “It was nice to meet you, Neema.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she giggled, enjoying the show playing out in front of her. “When you take ZiZi out, make sure to bring her home by one, alright?” I smacked her shoulder and she laughed.

“You should head home,” I said firmly, giving her a warning look. She laughed and hugged me tightly.

“Love you too, sis; don’t forget to bring us back some snacks, I have a feeling dinner’s gonna be Top Ramen again!” She said goodbyes to the others before she left. I was a little sad to see her leave, but I did have a job to do. Death held up a file I hadn’t noticed he was holding and handed it to me.

“Amber picked out a selection of dresses for this evening,” he explained, ignoring the teasing that Strife had started up. “Go through and pick what you’d like, then email her your choice. There’s also a selection of shoes and jewelry. Hair and makeup will be here as soon as your shift ends.” My brows lifted and I looked at the folder, noticing how thick it was.

“Do I really need to do all of this? Can’t you just pick something out?” I asked, already feeling stressed.

“I don’t want you to be dressed in something you’re not comfortable in. It’s better you decide.” I nodded. It was nice of him to let me pick what I wanted to wear; though I almost preferred him picking for me.

“Oh, well, thank you. I’ll look through immediately.” He nodded and left with his brothers, Strife still teasing him about bringing me as his date. I shook my head, smiling, and sat back down.

“I didn’t know the boss was taking you out,” Nora said playfully. I groaned.

“Don’t you start too.”

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #death #death x oc #office au #war #strife

16 notes · View notes

tera-91 · 5 years

Text

Monsters part 1 - rewrite

I'm back! This past year has been rough ... so what better way to start off the spooky season and to put the past 365 days behind me than to do a rewrite of chapter 1, I had to clean up a few things and make a few tweaks it was driving me crazy. Don't worry Part 2 is already written 😈. Just have to make a couple of adjustments and it will be posted, my aim is for October 20th or 23rd depending on my work schedule since I don't have a computer at the moment. That aside I give you Patton and his lovely stalkers .... I mean monsters 💜.

Summary: Patton is afraid of monsters. They might not be so bad after all?

Pairing: not really any (yet)

Warnings: monsters, night, attack ... let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 2374

Please feel free to comment 💙

Patton had always been afraid of monsters for as long as he could remember. Ever since his older cousin Ian had popped out from under his bed with snake skin glued on to half of his face.

A monster currently resided in Patton's closet, this monster was mostly alright. He, at least Patton assumed it was a he, never really came out much anymore after Patton had begun to leave crackers with blueberry crofters on a plate near the closet door at night before he went to bed.

There was a second monster as well, his grandmother had told him about it once during a visit. It never would sneak around his house at night but Patton had a sneaking suspicion it would nap in his bed while he was at work. Wether he made his bed or not it almost always looked different somehow when he returned home. Although he wasn't completely convinced it wasn't just the closet monster. Patton did what his grandmother told him to do anyway. He would place an orange, or if in season a blood orange, on the window not far from his bed twice a week. It would always disappear after his next shift at work.

_______

Patton woke to the faint glow of sunlight as it filtered through his semi-transparent teal curtains. He snuggled into his warm covers to enjoy the soft fabric briefly before he reluctantly stretched with a groan.

He lazily glanced around the blurry room before his gaze settled on his closet door. Even without his glasses he could tell it was slightly ajar, the closet monster came out last night. As he reached for his glasses he was somewhat thankful it had waited for him to go to sleep. A shiver ran up his spine at the thought of the long, sharp tongue and the glowing dark blue eyes. Once he was able to see clearer he was able to tell that the plate by the closet door was empty, just a few crumbs from the crackers remained. Not even a speck of jelly remained.

Patton threw back the the covers a d hopped out of bed. He ignored the shock of the cold wooden floor against his bare feet as he slowly approached the closet. He hesitantly reached for the door, with a deep breath he pulled the door hard. He peered into the closet and released the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Empty.

It always surprised him how he never found the monster in his closet during the day. One day he even had his cousin over to help him look for a present he had misplaced. Neither of them had seen the monster while they searched the many closets of the three bedroom home.

Patton closed the closet with slight hesitation once he grabbed his clothes for the day. A violet polo shirt with the pet daycare logo and khaki pants, which looked somewhat less wrinkled than they had when Patton put them away. However, on a time crunch he just shrugged and headed to the bathroom.

With the morning routine done Patton made his way into the modest kitchen. Toast sounded good. He grabbed the half empty bag of sliced bread, retrieved two slices and popped them into the toaster. Now all he needed was milk and crofters, maybe a cookie afterward if the jam didn't satisfy his terrible sweet tooth. With a small side step away from the sink he reached for the upper cabinet that held his mug collection. He analyzed each mug. Did he want a big one? A small one? What about the Winnie the Pooh mug? He pondered briefly, his finger tapped against the counter. A creature of habit, he reached into the cabinet and pulled out his favorite one, a swirled rainbow mug covered in puppies and kittens with paw prints. He walked over towards the refrigerator and placed the mug on the counter.

The cool air ghosted over his face as he opened the heavy door. The milk was easy to spot, the big red label caught his eye immediately. However, the green lid of the blueberry crofters jar was far more elusive than it should've been. He sighed as he searched, it wouldn't be the first time the closet monster hadn't been satisfied and cleaned out the near empty crofters jar and hid the empty jar within the fridge. Patton found the jar, after nearly a full minute of searching, two shelves lower and on the opposite side of the refrigerator from where it usually sat. He pulled the jar out, a slight pout on his face, and placed it on the counter just as the toast popped up.

"Again?" Patton said in a raised voice, he hoped the closet monster could hear him. At least he had left enough for Patton's toast this time. Patton was happy to share but would it really be too much to ask him to leave a note if he wanted more crackers?

Did the monster even know how to write? Even if he did, the more Patton thought about it while he poured his milk and spread the jam on his toast, a shiver ran up his spine. Just the thought of the closet monster coming close to him while she slept to place a note on his table caused his heart to beat a little faster. He began to look around and tidy up the kitchen to calm down as his finished the last bites of his toast.

The jam might be able to last another few days if the monster didn't come out again for more than what Patton left out. His gaze soon settled on the fruit bowl on the island, a couple of bananas and quite a few apples.

'Maybe I should take some to work. Bonnie would love them, the rabbits too.' Patton thought. At least they wouldn't go to waste if the store macaw and bunnies enjoyed them. He paused as he took a sip of milk, there were no blood oranges in the bowl. He must have used the last one the day before.

"Well I guess I'm going to have to go to the store on my way home." Patton said to himself as he finished cleaning up before he made his way towards the door. He grabbed the durable rainbow fabric of his messenger bag from it's hook and slung it over his shoulder before he made his way back to the kitchen. "Hmm, one for Bonnie and Mable, half for Darrel aannnd one and a half for Jenna and Monty and Mopsy." He said as he figured out how many apples to place in his bag. Once he was satisfied he hadn't forgotten anyone he headed towards the door.

Located by the door was a reasonably sized table, on top of which sat his wallet and keys. First, however, he pulled open the drawer of the table. Despite being full of mostly miscellaneous he pulled out a notepad and pen. Patton quickly jolted down a short grocery list, tore the page off, and placed them back in the drawer. He picked up his wallet and tucked the list in it before storing it in his bag. With practiced ease he plucked the keys from the table and slid it onto one of his fingers as he made his way out the door.

Patton took a deep breath as he took the first step out the door. He loved everything about Fall from the cooler temperatures to the smell. Well, just about everything, he wasn't the biggest fan about Halloween and people dressing up, it made it more difficult to spot possible monsters. As he turned to lock the door he heard a soft bark. "Hey bud, give me a second." He said without skipping a beat.

A smile stretched across his face as he turned and squatted down. In front of him stood, what he assumed was, a red Canadian Eskimo dog. He reached down and began to per the rather large dog, which quickly dropped to the ground to reveal his belly to be rubbed. Patton laughed as he began to tickle the monster of a dog. The pair played for several minutes before Patton's phone began beeping, a warning he needed to head to the bus stop to be able to make it to work on time. Patton's smile fell and the dog whined. "Sorry Roman, I have to get to work now." Patton said as he stood up. Roman rolled and sat up, another whine escaped him. "It's okay buddy, go home." He said gently as he rubbed Roman's ears and checked his collar for what was probably the hundredth time. The name plate remained blank, save for the name Roman elegantly engraved in the golden metal.

Patton wondered where the dog belonged. He would take him in as he saw the fluff ball nearly everyday but he was sure Roman had a home. He looked a healthy weight, if not slightly over. If Patton had to guess he would guess that Roman weighed close to a hundred pounds and his coat was always immaculately brushed, no knits or mats anywhere. Patton was pulled out of his thoughts by another soft bark from Roman. "I know what you want." He said, a slight lilt in his voice. With one swift movement he pulled out a slice of dehydrated sweet potato he had made for Roman a few nights ago. "Potato!" He said in a silly voice as Roman gingerly took the treat. He laughed as he scratched under Roman's chin before he headed for the bus stop.

That day work was typical for Patton, nothing particularly interesting happened. Bonnie had sung in approval of the apple slices and the rabbits left no trace of the apples within an hour. After his shift was over for the day Patton caught the next bus towards the market.

Sue to it being later Patton was greatful that the store was mostly empty. Luckily he was able to find five decent sized blood oranges as well as some fruit for himself. He was slightly disappointed however, when he discovered they were out of blueberry crofters. He hoped the closet monster would behave as he grabbed a jar of berry harvest crofters instead.

After he checked out Patton looked at the bus app, it wouldn't be at the stop near the market for nearly fourty-five minutes. As he closed the bus app he pulled up the phones map to see how close to home he was. He could walk home in half the time, he just had to go down Comet street at the end of the block and go through Sanders park then walk two blocks down Russet boulevard. He hesitated for a moment as it was already dark, but a cool breeze and a shiver made him finally decide with a shrug to walk home.

Halfway down Comet street he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched as he walked down the semi-dark street. Little light came from the street lamps and even less from the few houses to his right. A rustling noise to his left nearly caused him to jump out of his skin, the woods of Sanders park held no light what so ever. His heart pounded in his chest as he stopped and stared into the inky darkness for a moment. Suddenly a pair of playing fox kits came tumbling out of the bush before they must have realized they were out in the open and ran off. A nervous laugh escaped Patton as he continued on his way.

Suddenly Patton was pulled from the sidewalk and pushed up against the wall of the darkened house. The rough brick bit into his back and caused him to open his eyes, he hadn't realized he closed. He had dropped his bag, he watched as a couple of oranges rolled across the grass towards the sidewalk. However, he could barely even make that out. His vision blurry as his glasses had fallen off at some point.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out in the dark? It's not safe after sundown you know. It's when the monsters come out to play." the man said with a grin as he ran a dirty hand down Patton's cheek. Patton swallowed any response that he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs as he struggled to get out of the strangers strong grip.

A low growl caught both of their attentions. The man froze, his grip remained firm on Patton. At the same time a large dog barreled out of the woods and a large bat dived bombed the man. He released Patton and stumbled back while he attempted to swat the bat away. As the bat drove him further away from Patton the dog didn't hesitate to tackle him to the ground, a deep growl emanated from deep within its chest.

Patton hadn't noticed the bat had disappeared until it reappeared right in front of him. He immediately threw his hands up but when he realized the bat didn't attack him, he peeked between his arms. The bad just hovered there. It took him a moment but he realized the bat had his glasses in its mouth. Unsure of what to do, he hesitantly held out his arm, hand open and fingers splayed out.

Patton held his breath as the bat, with seemingly practiced ease, wrapped it's feet around two of his fingers and slowly maneuvered itself to hang from his hand. Even with everything that was happening, Patton was most surprised at the bat. Cautiously he reached out his other hand to take his glasses. Once he had his glasses back he expertly, stumbled, and put them on one handed.

A shuffling sound caught Patton's attention, he looked over towards where the man and dog were. He barely managed to see the dog snapping towards the man as he ran off. With the man out of sight Patton turned his attention to the large dog and realized that he recognized it.

"Roman?"

@not-so-innocent-bi-sander @princeanxious @teacupfulofstarshine @moltengoldenstardust @sandersfander1820 @coolerthan-a-vintagecassette @j-d-lightful @could-always-be-gayer-2 @altruistic-skittles @sylveon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @xx-fandom-potato-xx @c4t1l1n4 @dutifullystrangequeerdom @i-read-by-lamp @thatcacidork @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @bigfirecreator @random-name-here @tinkslittlebelle @kindly-falling @punsterterry

#sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #roman sanders #monsters au #human au #monsters #tera-91

29 notes · View notes

ladyanatui · 4 years

Text

Who Wears the Pants *A Daiken Fic*

Daisuke can't seem to keep his pants on. Even in freezing weather.

Day #9 of the Digimon OTP Advent Challenge 2019: Shiver

AO3 | FF.Net

Ken's school let out early today, and the sixteen-year-old decided to take the train to Odaiba to surprise his boyfriend with an impromptu date. Daisuke loved surprises, and as long as he was the one doing the surprising, Ken did too.

Naturally, Ken arrived early. His private school in Tamachi had released at noon, but with a couple hours until Odaiba released, he walked around a few nearby shops.

The weather had turned cold—particularly cold even in winter—and even going in and out of shops, Ken was shivering by the time he waited outside of Odaiba High for his spiky-haired boyfriend to emerge in a throng of teens wearing iconic sky-blue blazers. Of course, most of those blazers would be hidden away under winter coats, but Ken wasn't so sure Daisuke would adhere to logic.

The bell rang, but Ken didn't move from his perch on the wall near the main exit, cell phone in hand just in case they missed each other.

He had no need to worry, though. Daisuke wasn't easy to miss when he stormed out of the building, pushing his way through a slow-moving group of first years and laughing hysterically, something clutched tight against his abdomen. It was no surprise when Takeru ran after him, his blond hair particularly messy, followed shortly by Hikari, Miyako, and Iori, snickering as they walked together.

Ken slipped off the wall, bundling his coat tighter and trying not to tremble.

And true to form, Daisuke noticed Ken the moment he moved. His face instantly brightened, and he veered in his boyfriend's direction, nearly knocking over a pair of his classmates in the process. He didn't slow down when he reached Ken, didn't hesitate before launching the full force of his body onto him, and Ken was thrown to the ground with his giant puppy of a boyfriend on top of him, kissing him with all his might.

"That's cheating," cried Takeru as he stumbled to a stop beside the pair on the cold, hard ground. "You can't use your boyfriend as your home base."

Daisuke's only response was to pull back enough to chuck the crumpled material between them at Takeru's face before diving back in for another kiss. Said crumpled material, which Daisuke had kept close after stealing it right off his blond friend's head, was Takeru's newest hat.

Hikari, Miyako, and Iori reached the group and paused behind Takeru, who sloppily yanked his hat back over his head, grumbling all the while. But it was only when it became apparent Daisuke didn't need oxygen to breathe that the complaints began.

With a sheepish grin—all pleasant and apologetic but not actually sorry for glomping him—Daisuke helped Ken to his feet. "What're you doing here?"

Ken barely managed to gather himself together. "Surprise?" he offered, cheeks flushed. His body was trembling, but it wasn't from the cold anymore.

No, despite the fact that his boyfriend wasn't wearing anything over his dark-blue sweater-vest over his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up at the elbows, tie mysteriously gone, Daisuke simply radiated heat with enough force to rival the sun itself. And when he grinned like he did at Ken's one-word response, the warmth increased tenfold.

Blush intensified, Ken turned to the other to pay his respects—it had nothing to do with trying to distract himself from the way his boyfriend's ridiculous grin dug under his skin and seeped into his very bones, not at all.

Takeru, a new denim hat with a wide brim forced too far down on his head, looked just as irritated as when he'd come running out of the building, but he chatted with Hikari, Miyako, and Iori amicably nonetheless. But the moment they realized the very public make-out session was finally over, they turned to greet him as well.

"Hello," Ken said in his quiet voice, and a small smile spread across his face.

"Hey, Ken!" Miyako greeted happily.

"Class out early?" Takeru asked.

He nodded. "Yes, we had a half day for the teachers to—"

Well, nothing beyond that was really important because then Ken's vision was blocked by dark material that landed haphazardly over the top of his head.

"Daisuke!" the group chorused.

Ken shook his head and scowled at the dark-gray cloth that landed at his feet. "Daisuke," he said, voice low, "why in the world are you throwing your pants at me?"

"In public," Miyako added, indignant.

Hikari sighed, exasperated. "Can you really not wait ten minutes to change at home, Daisuke-kun?"

But Daisuke just laughed as he turned to his boyfriend to fix his now messy hair. "Gomen, gomen. I got over-excited."

Ken shot him a glare, but per usual, he remained unfazed, totally unaware of the double entendre.

At least, underneath his uniform pants, Daisuke managed to wear a pair of dark-khaki shorts. No one understood how he could fit them comfortably under the dark-gray slacks, but no one could argue with Daisuke when it came to logic. Mostly because Daisuke defied logic at all costs.

"Sure, over-excited." Takeru snorted. "If this didn't happen every damn day, I'm not sure you should apologize for not being able to keep your pants on around your boyfriend."

Daisuke's face turned a dark scarlet. Finally, he understood. "Shut up, Takeru! At least I have a boyfriend."

The blond raised an eyebrow—he and Hikari had been dating for nearly as long as Ken and Daisuke. "At least I can keep my clothes on in public."

"I'm still wearing clothes, baka!"

"Half your uniform is missing." Takeru crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't go half a day without losing some part of it, but you manage to wear those dumb shorts under your pants."

Daisuke jutted out his bottom lip. "Pants are dumb. I don't see why we have to wear uniforms anyway."

"I bet you couldn't go a whole day without losing even one article of clothing," Takeru challenged.

Flustered, Daisuke spluttered to answer, but everyone knew he couldn't really argue against that. He hadn't managed it yet.

Ken sighed as he leaned down to grab the dark gray pants, buttons undone all along the sides from Daisuke tearing them off. "Really, Dai, we're second years. You've had to wear a uniform for over four years now. How is this still a problem?"

His boyfriend continued to pout.

To be fair, Ken probably should've commended his dedication to the quote-unquote cause. When his attempts to get away with wearing his favored cargo shorts during class were thwarted, Daisuke devoted hours upon hours every week to learning how to sew so he could alter the uniform pants.

His first plan was simply cutting off the bottom half of the pants and reattaching them with buttons, but then he was still stuck wearing slacks. That didn't last long.

After that, he discovered the idea of converting the uniform pants to tear-away pants, but that required him to further develop his sewing skills. Which he did, of course, and without complaint. And that means a lot when it comes to Daisuke. Eventually, he managed it—and then the struggle was finding shorts that fit underneath. Most of his shorts at the time were too bulky and obvious if he managed to fit them under the pants at all.

He had since mastered the whole affair, though. Obviously.

And really, how much could Ken complain about his boyfriend just tearing off his pants in one stroke?

Oh, yeah. Perhaps the fact that he did it in public and rarely even front of him. That was somewhat disheartening. Ken would much prefer it if Daisuke kept his ridiculous stripping habit in private. Preferably in Ken's bedroom.

Miyako snorted. "Don't tease him too much, guys." Not that her voice was any less teasing. "For all we know, he might declare another war on pants."

Iori shook his head, eyes wide. "No. Not again."

Miyako was now all-out laughing. "But it was great! He only got suspended thirteen times for refusing to wear them that first year."

"Fifteen," Ken automatically corrected. The current uniform pants were now folded neatly in his arms. "And why am I always the one having to fold these stupid things?"

Scratching the back of his neck, Daisuke simply grinned, but he accepted the folded pants and slid them into his backpack with grateful eyes.

Takeru raised an eyebrow. "How are you the one always cleaning up his messes? You're usually not out of class yet when he starts throwing clothes around."

Heat rose to Ken's cheeks.

It probably had something to do with the fact that Daisuke met him after school every single day, and they usually wound up doing homework and, ahem, hanging out at his apartment in Tamachi. Of course, Daisuke getting out his schoolwork always meant tossing the no-longer-worn pants out of his backpack, and Ken folded them for him every time. Daisuke always called him anal as he did it, but he also added how incredibly cute he was, and…well, they usually didn't get much homework done after that.

Daisuke slung an arm around Ken's waist and tugged him close. "If all goes well, he'll be cleaning up my messes for years to come."

Ken frowned. "That's…" He sighed. "That's a very nice sentiment."

Not very practical, mind you, but definitely a nice sentiment. Ken definitely preferred to think of their relationship in the long term as well, but he didn't necessarily envision himself being a perfect housewife who did all the housework.

Perhaps he wasn't being very practical either, though. He'd seen Daisuke's room in its natural state far too often.

And yes, folding.

Ken was pretty sure Daisuke didn't even know how to fold laundry.

When he shook his head at the thought, his teeth chattered.

"You okay?" Suddenly, Daisuke was in his face, worry lines creasing his forehead, and he tutted. "You're wearing like ten sweaters and a huge scarf. How are you still cold, Ken-chan?" Then, he turned to the others to give them a wave. "Later!"

They ignored the chorus of goodbyes in favor of Daisuke wrapping his arm around his shivering boyfriend and leading them toward the Motomiya apartment.

Ken sighed, snuggling closer to his boyfriend's heat. "You could at least have the decency to pretend to be a normal human being and wear pants when it's this damn cold like the rest of us," he said, burying his face in his scarf.

But Daisuke laughed. "What're you talking about? It's not that cold. But you know…" His voice took on a particular tone that sent a completely different kind of shiver down Ken's spine. "I could warm you up. It's not like anyone's home right now."

Ken pressed closer. Yes, that sounded like the perfect way to rid his body of this chill.

#daiken #digimonotpadvent2019 #digimon #daisuke motomiya #ken ichijouji #digimon 02 #fanfiction #fanfic #daisuke couldn't wear pants to save his life #daisuke is the sun #he radiates heat #it defies logic #daisuke defies logic #ken thinks this is incredibly unfair #digimon fanfiction #digi fic #my fanfiction #anatui #anatui writes

10 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

seweregaz

Без названия

rockandrollfool

Rock And Roll Fool

theheroknownaszero

Spaceman

tari-calaelen

Amelie Ledoux

transmookerbabe-blog

natalie