#asshole men with terrible hairlines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

subbykboys · 3 years

Text

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot.

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house).

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious.

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature,

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away.

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette.

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.”

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly.

He only rolled his eyes.

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch.

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—”

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark.

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment.

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face.

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt.

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today.

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.”

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it.

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate.

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you.

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?”

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight.

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable.

Oh, he’s cute.

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.”

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth.

Really cute.

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.”

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.”

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room.

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him.

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.”

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair.

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind.

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra.

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that.

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that.

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not.

“Ah— Mark?”

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.”

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived.

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room.

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door.

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door.

Then he froze.

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened.

But it didn’t.

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on.

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial.

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction.

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t.

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting.

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!”

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him.

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato.

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you.

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating.

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids.

He was doomed.

And he still needed to pee.

Damnit.

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans.

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place.

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?”

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.”

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone.

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away.

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one.

“Taeyong.”

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes.

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard.

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue.

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare.

“Perfect. Then we can share.”

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath.

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket.

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived.

“Movie?” Haechan suggested.

You perked. “I know a good one.”

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.”

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.”

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction.

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!”

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch.

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness.

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen.

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat.

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.”

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now.

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised.

Now, was not one of those times.

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position.

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers.

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face.

Fuck, he’s too adorable.

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon.

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable.

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee.

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers.

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson.

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax.

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves.

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv.

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more.

“Is this alright?”

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out.

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled.

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious.

“I– I don��t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him.

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t.

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering.

But even if it was—

It felt too damn good.

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out.

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands.

But shit was it tempting.

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him.

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight…

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap.

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—”

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire.

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered.

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention.

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway.

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you.

Really looking at you.

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins.

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face.

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.”

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head.

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied.

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.”

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.”

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?”

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him.

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip.

God he’s adorable.

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely.

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?”

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened.

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent…

“Have you ever been touched before?”

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs.

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen.

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh?

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.”

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist.

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.”

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod.

“Good boy.”

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers.

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...”

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable.

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm.

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on.

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn.

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples.

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins.

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.”

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you.

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?”

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside.

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds.

But you weren’t finished yet.

Not by a long shot.

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips.

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were.

“O– oh—”

“Is this alright?”

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…”

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…”

“Just?”

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health…

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.”

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch.

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust.

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him.

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally.

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?”

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall.

“Wanna feel it again?”

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.”

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that.

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible…

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet.

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out.

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat.

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be.

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body.

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight.

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright.

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder.

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued.

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased.

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?”

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.”

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.”

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles…

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room.

“Uh… foods here.”

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans.

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck.

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed.

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners?

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Icing part 1

Summary: “Yanno, if you wanted to ogle hockey players, you could have just-” you twirled your hand “-yanno, watch them on TV,”

a/n: So this is part 1 of the ice skating AU which was inspired by Break the Ice. This is, in fact, the ice skating au I was pitching to @birdy-bat-writes. Blame @littleredwing89 for encouraging me (hi wifey). Warning the characters will be nice assholes.

Warning: Terrible wingman etiquette and blatant lack consideration for logic

“Yanno, if you wanted to ogle hockey players, you could have just-” you twirled your hand “-yanno, watch them on TV,” you laugh, running lazy circles around a shaking Heli who was glaring at you through her dark hair. You snicker when she raises a trembling middle finger at you. “You probably wouldn’t be freezing your ass off right now, dumbass.”

She glowers. “Well, some of us want to see the glory of the hockey butt in person,” Heli snarls, taking a clumsy step forward instead of the easy glide you showed her earlier. You raise your brow, angling your feet to slow your movement. “Hockey butt?” You repeat dumbly.

Heli searches your face for any sign of humor only to find a genuinely confused pinch of your brow. “You’re a fucking ice nerd. How could you not know about this mind-breaking scientific phenomena?!” Heli all but screeches to the heavens. You huff. Crossing your arms, you make no move to take out your phone. “Just cus I like ice skating doesn’t mean I know everything to do it.” You start moving again, drifting away from her as you shrug, enjoying the bite of the cold air and the hiss of metal against ice. “Besides, I prefer watching figures.”

“You prefer twinks.”

You flush and not from the cold much to your annoyance. “I- Yanno what, you’re awfully dressed up to just observe. Wait-” you blink and cup your hands over your mouth“-Oh shit, you’re trying to pick them up, aren’t you?” You’re cackling into your glove by the time you face her again. You shake your head and begin to drift away again. “Am not!”She protests weakly, finally managing to reach the railing. “Is it a crime if I just wanna dress up? And what if I manage to pick one up?”

“The odds of you getting one of them is criminally low.”

Heli makes an affronted noise as you draw near. You scratch your nose with your index finger trying to hide your smile. “They probably wouldn’t even notice you if you managed a quad lutz and a triple toe.”

“A what?”

“Exactly.”

“You come here often.”

You snicker. “You gotta step up your game if you wanna pick that buff hockey sugar daddy. That’s like the oldest line in the book,” you say, gliding easily to the railing beside her. She punches your shoulder and you wince, taking a mental note to dodge if she ever throws a right hook your way.

“I’m asking if you’d known any of them, you jerk!”

You arch a brow. “They don’t interact with the public much. ‘Sides if I did, why would I introduce you?”

“Because that would be such an amazing thing to do?”

“No.”

“(Y/n), look at them!”

You sweep your eyes over the rink, over the men gliding over the ice. Your eyes catch on broad forms. They looked powerful, built to weather any blow. You were at once jealous and awed. You kind of understood Heli. Just a bit.

You watch as two large men practice a sweeping check. The other man crashes hard. You wince and figure it was time to get off the ice. You lightly push at Heli but she’s standing still and unmovable. You make a frustrated noise as the bewildering words fall from her lips. “Look at that hockey butt.” One of your brows chases your hairline as you turn to follow her gaze.

Standing nearly at seven feet, a broad man with white hair is facing away from you barking orders at the raucous crowd of men. His voice is booming and echoing in the quiet of the rink. You try not to snort when you turn to Heli again, finding her practically drooling. “Stop staring at his ass. It’s rude, you troglodyte,” you scold halfheartedly.

“Oh come on, you have eyes too!”

“Yes, I do,” you concede, said eyes flicking briefly to the man’s ass despite your best efforts, ”but the dude looks like he’s an entire drinking age human older than you.”

Heli rolls her eyes at you. “Only you would be that hypocritical,” she says, shoving you. You cringe. You almost fall but the reaction is more to do with how poorly you hid your interest. You breathe a sigh of relief when you catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

“You’ve been eyeing him too!”

“The man is built like a brick house. He’s kind of hard to miss, Hel.” It was a weak defense so you’re thankful that Heli was barely paying attention to you. You squint at him trying to remember his name. “Slade Wilson, right?” you ask with all the confidence of a kid who just put on skates for the first time. Heli sighs dreamily instead of irritably. “It would be great if I could get his number.”

You two stand there quietly watching them practice. You tap your skate against the ice, not out of impatience but more from a contained sprawl of energy. You’re always dumbfounded at how fast they move compared to their bulk. You’re used to the lithe grace of figure skaters but the raw strength and speed they display are breathtaking in an entirely new way. You’d never really considered how much skill and precision the sport took. Sure, it didn’t require as much body awareness as figures but you can see the practiced movement, the muscle memory, and hours of practice that went into each maneuver. With Slade especially.

“Hey, if I offer you 50, would you get me his number?” You narrow your eyes at her. You’re pretty sure she’s joking but there’s such an obvious glint of cautious hope in her eyes that you can’t help the grin spreading across your face. You hold out a hand. Heli glares at your open palm then up to your face. “Get the number first.”

“I need an advance,” you say, tilting your chin up.

“What are you? A contract killer?”

“Why is that the first thing you think off?”

“Are you gonna do it or not?”

You shrug and push off the wall. To your absolute delight, Heli looks horrified as you leisurely make your way to the large man. You shove your hands in your pockets, throwing her cocky grin over your shoulder. You move towards him with the easy grace of someone who’s lived their life on the ice.

The man looks down at you and you feel dwarfed under the scrutiny but you shrug it off with the ease of someone who’s never met self-preservation. He crosses his large arms over his barrelled chest. Your mind stalls for a bit, half a millisecond, upon realizing that his arm is somehow longer than your torso and scarily enough nearly as thick. “Can I help you?” He asks smoothly. There’s an undercurrent of a southern accent in the drawl of his words. It throws you for a bit of a loop which shockingly goes to your advantage.

Throwing your thumb over your shoulder, you say “the fucker is giving me 50 to get your number.” Your bluntness catches him off guard as much as it does you. You’re gonna pretend your mind unconsciously figured out that he preferred straight forward people. Arching his brow and breaking his stoic demeanor, he gives you an amused quirk to his lip. “You are aware our merch costs way more than fifty bucks.”

You didn’t. You shrug. “She got both a friend and dumbass discount rolled into one,” you say, cocking your head, wry smile seemingly permanent. This earns you a noise that sounds like a snort and you figure you should take the opening.

“So, what do you say?”

“No.”

You reel back, the tiniest bit stunned. You didn’t exactly expect this to work but- “I’ll split with you,” you offer. Fifty wasn’t much but Heli’s reaction was on the line.

He hums, looking you over. You try to read him but don’t glean anything useful. You can tell he’s not about to deck you and that he is extremely amused by the situation but beyond that nothing. You shove your hands into your pockets but make sure not to slump or shrink. You would normally shrink at someone this attractive staring at you but something about the ambiance of the ice rink keeps you solid.

“Give me 40 and your number,” he says finally.

Your brows disappear into your hair, but come back just as quickly. “We split 70-30 and you get my number.” You think you hear Heli’s palm slap against her forehead. Or maybe, it’s just the puck getting slapped by a stick. Either way, you’re sure you’ve made a miscalculation of your priorities but damn it, you weren’t going to be fleeced by a guy who earns millions a year.

“Are you really haggling?”

“It’s a valuable life skill,” you say evenly despite finally noticing the dozens of eyes on you.

“You’re not gonna let go of this, are you kid?” He chuckles and suddenly the intimidation ebbs away from his features. The knot in your chest unwinds, so you push your luck.

“Sadly, you’re not that lucky.”

He snorts and your face almost breaks into a smile. “65-35.”

“No. 70-30.”

Slade cocks his head to the side, the corners of his lips turning up to smirk. “The way I see it, sugar, I’m the one with the bigger bargaining chip here.” The way he purrs the pet name brings out the huskiness in his voice. It sends your mind spiraling and your cheeks flushing. You lose your ability to speak for a moment. You scratch your nose and quirk your mouth in thought. You don’t take too long to mull over your options before speaking again. “Fine, 65-35 plus my number but,” his brow arches, ”I need a guarantee that it’s real.” You didn’t really but you’re stubborn and you’ve come this far.

Slade lets out a huff, holding out his hand. “Phone.”

You blink, quietly stupefied. “Oh- Uh, sure,” you stammer, handing him your phone. He types the number quickly and presses the call button. When he carelessly tosses your phone, you fumble as it bounces between your hands before settling. You swear under your breath.

You scowl at him, holding his eyes with contempt. The phone rings for a bit and then you’re sent to voicemail. You shut it off immediately after you hear the first notes of his husky drawl. It makes your skin feel warm even in the cool bite of the rink air. You shake it off bleating a ‘thanks ’ before pivoting around.

You’re dazed and light-headed as you skate back. Almost light enough to ignore the hoots and hollers coming from Slade’s team. Distantly, you hear someone holler a “great job, sweetheart,” and another “Way ta go, you cradle snatcher.”

You and Heli stare at each other, equal parts dumbfounded and amazed.

“Did you just?”

You hold out your hand, feeling a little numb.

Did you just get hit on by a hockey player?

Puckwit: Sweetheart, since you only gave me 20% of my cut, I think you owe me

You roll your eyes. Because, of course, Heli couldn’t put her money where her big mouth is, so you didn’t exactly have the money to pay Slade. Hell, he would have gotten pocket lint if you didn’t fork up your own cash.

You: Relax, you fucking loan shark, I‘ll get your money

You ruffle your hair in frustration as you type. You can feel a smile tug at your lip. You weren’t really expecting any contact after the incident but you were pleasantly surprised when he texted you out of the blue. The texts were sporadic. You’re not surprised given his schedule. It was nothing hot or heavy. You two were just fucking around for the most part. Sure, there was flirting from both sides (mostly from him) but most of it was just an exchange of witty banter that has you biting your lip to hold back a snicker.

Puckwit: C’mon, candy

You: Candy? You sound like a 50s playbook

“Has (y/n) ever been this obsessed with her phone?”

“No, not since her favorite fanfic author stopped posting back in hs.”

“Did (y/n) get a sugar daddy?”

You blink and flush. “What? NO!”

Emi cackles. “Holy shit! You did, didn’t you?!”

You sputter out some incoherent halfhearted defense. Why are you defending yourself? You’ve done nothing wrong.

“She definitely did!” Andy cackles, plucking the phone from your hands. Your heart stops then starts when you remember that there was no way for them to know who this is. Thank fuck, you’re lazy as shit.

“Who is it?”

“It’s just some asshole who thinks I owe him money,” you snap, snatching at your phone.

“You’re smiling an awful awful lot for someone getting pestered by the IRS,” Andy says, passing it to Heli who sticks her tongue out as she thumbs through the messages.

“He isn’t from the IRS. Even I’m not stupid enough to fuck with the IRS.”

“Yes, you are!” Emi protests, keeping you from batting at Heli.

“Wait! Are you his Splenda guardian?!” Heli gasps. This unsurprisingly makes Andy cackle and almost fall out of his seat.

He makes 25 times what you make. The thought makes you scrunch your nose up. He’s definitely pestering you for the money just to fuck with you. “In this economy? Nope.”

“Face it, (y/n) is just into funny assholes. You remember-”

Heli gasps, high and loud. Her face looks like a caricature of a fish. “You’re texting buddies with THE Slade Wilson,” she cries, making you shrink, “YOU BITCH.”

Emi and Andy exchange confused looks. “Who?” You take that moment to snag your phone out of a seething Heli’s hands. You’re considering bolting when Emi and Andy both put hands on your shoulders preventing any escape.

“Who?” Andy repeats with a raised brow. This is the moment you find religion as you pray to whatever god is up there to end you. Heli slams her open palm on the table. You’re fully bracing yourself for a dissertation (including citations) instead you get:

“He’s just the most banagable silver fox in the NHL.”

You hold your breath a moment waiting for Zeus or someone to strike you down. Laughter washes over your table. You groan, hand running down your face.

“Hel, you make horny teenagers sound like nuns,” Andy says between gasps of laughter.

“I can be horny in my late 20s! Look at (y/n).”

“Please don’t,” you wheeze trying to fuse with the table.

“YOU BITCH, how did you get a text back?!”

“I don’t know,” you say, holding your phone up like a shield, “what did you text him?”

They, thankfully, take the bait and turn their attention to Heli who is crossing her arms, seething.

“I told him that I’m sorry about my dumbass friend.”

A wry smile breaks out on your face. “Did you seriously throw me under the bus?”

“It was for a good cause.”

“Yeah. His dick.” Andy cackles. “Speaking of which, hey Hel, did you see a dick pic?”

“No!” Heli screeches looking disappointed.

“You people are the worst best friends.”

“Sorry, you’re the one who picked.”

“You do know I have other options, right?”

“Pfffft, as if!”

“Shut up, you oxygenated gremlin.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“C’mon (y/n), you gotta be a little curious about what he’s packing!” Heli croons.

“No.” You lie flatly. You have thought about it in a blurry sort of theoretical way. Sure, the guy was smoking hot but you discipline and pushed it to the back of your mind. (Another lie, you weren’t pure enough to resist entertaining some spicier imagery.) Your body flushes, thinking of the poorly hidden mass of muscle beneath the long-sleeved hockey jersey. You press your face against the cool surface of the table. You fold your arms over your head bracing for the inevitable heckling.

You seriously need to sort this out before it gets out of hand.

Heli looks like she’s gonna kill you.

You’re hoping she does.

You’re slumped over the railing on your tiptoes, hands raised to cup your mouth. It really isn’t enough to hide the sheer awe on your face. You suck in a breath through your teeth as another man hits the wall courtesy of your favorite loan shark. Clearly, none of that bulk is just for show. That thought stirs something vague in your chest. It’s a twinge like a spark up your spine. It’s not unpleasant. You wouldn’t say so at least. You just don’t know what to call it.

You watch Slade. He looks stoic, fully concentrated on his movement. It’s jarring compared to the mental image of him smirking while he texts you. It’s a little jarring.

The sound of the puck from one stick to another pulls your mind back down from the clouds. You realize that it’s probably not the best idea to watch hockey practice this close. With there being a high chance of you getting bowled over by 200-pound men skating at alarming speeds but you find yourself unable to peel away, mesmerized by their fluency on the ice. It’s not specifically Slade, although he definitely stands out, but the whole of the team. It’s certainly different from the fine-tuned muscle control of figures but it’s not what you thought it was. You make a mental note to watch more hockey when you get the chance.

You hook your leg over the other, the toe of your boot-tapping against the heel of the other. You hum absently as you watch them pass the puck around at speeds you’re sure would hurt. You’re too deep in thought to notice the two players approaching you until they crowd your view of the rink.

“You lost, princess?” A man above you purrs. Your vision snags on a helmet with a black skull mask and you want to jump out of your skin.

You blink, brain catching up with the words. “Oh yeah. I- No, I’m good,” you hedge awkwardly, not knowing how to tell them that you owe their buddy money. Are they gonna kick you out? You are encroaching on their practice.

“Dipshit, that’s the girl who hit on Wilson the other week,” A smaller guy says flanking your right side. Your mouth quirks. You recognize him from somewhere. He’s slimmer than the others and his movements are much more graceful. His name is on the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck off, Todd, I’m just trying to make conversation,” the other man says leering at you. You swallow thickly, a mild discomfort makes you vaguely aware of your thermal shirt and leggings are hugging your curves. You bite your cheek. You think after figures you’d be used to people leering at you. You do your best to suck in a quiet breath as both continue to hassle you with questions that you answer vaguely. It’s not for any reason, more out of habit really.

“Todd, Sionis, get back in line.”

“Wilson, we’re just having a chat with our little guest,” Sionis says wrapping an arm around your shoulders pinning you against his side. The noise you make is tiny and a bit helpless and you’re kicking yourself.

Slade continues to glare at the man but he doesn’t take his arm off of you. “What? Are you gonna fine me?” Sionis challenges.

The stoic expression doesn’t disappear from Slade’s face. “Don’t fucking test me, Sionis, I’ll fine you into the next fucking century if you don’t get your ass back to training," comes the sharp, non-negotiable response.

You let out a relieved breath when the other two push of the wall with a grumble. Todd throws you a wink over his shoulder and you recognize him from figures. Your head is spinning again. What was a world-class figure skater doing on a hockey team?

“You ok there, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m fine... Thanks,” you say, skittish,”for stepping in, I mean.”

“I’m the fine master for this team. It’s my job to keep them in line,” he says, blandly.

“Uhuh, so you were just doing your job?”

“Mhmm.”

You give him a crooked smile. “You’re so full of crap, Slade.”

Slade side-eyes you. “I know you’re not a hockey fan-”

“I could be,” you shrug.

He rolls his eyes. “Tell me about the name of the positions and what they do.” Your mouth wires shut. He nods, vindicated before continuing.``As I was saying, why are you here, Candy?”

You scrunch your nose. “You know full fucking well that isn’t my name. Am I gonna have to remind you every time?”

“Depends.”

Your brow rises. ”On what?”

Slade smirks. “On whether or not you keep blushing.”

You flush and roll your eyes. “You’re categorically the worst human being I have ever met and I work in customer service.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, his body relaxing a fraction. The smirk on his face softens but the look in his eyes is still teasing.

“You’re not even gonna bother to sound ashamed, are you?”

His lip twitches. “You really know me so well, sugar.”

You scoff, reaching into your pocket. You shove a thick wad of ones into his broad chest.

“Should I ask why it’s all in ones?”

“Strip club,” you deadpan. His steel-blue eyes gleam and you can see the innuendo forming on his lips when you push off the wall. You’re already flustered as you pivot away. “See you later, Sharky,” you say over your shoulder.

“See you next practice, sweetheart.”

And you do.

It becomes a semi-regular thing.

You come in early, earlier than the public is allowed to be, to do maintenance checks on the building and to watch them practice. Most days you just find a spot to hunker down and watch them quietly then leave before they notice.

But you had to admit the best days were when they caught you as practice ended. You’d shoot the shit with them, always standing close to Slade or rather he always stood close to you. Your quick wit and brash words fit right into the banter.

“Hey princess, do you want a signed jersey? I’ll give you one for a kiss,” Roman offers, tracing your jaw. You step back, falling behind Jason and Slade.

Slade arches a brow at him crossing his arms which Roman answers with a shrug. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he says, still smirking at you. You snort. The flirting was commonplace at this point. As it turns out, his team likes fucking with Slade almost as much as you do. Almost everyone on the team flirts with you just to get a rise out of Slade. You play along just for the shits and giggles.

A large hand brackets your hip and you're pressed against Slade's side. His body heat radiating off of him like his temper. You lean into it, a smarmy grin tugging at your lips.

"How much is it worth, Sionis?" You croon. The hand on your hip tightens. You hear Jason snickers to your left, seemingly catching on to your game.

"Princess, we both know mine would sell more," Jason purrs with a wink.

You bat half-lidded eyes at Jason. “Would it now?”

For a moment, you feel weightless and the world’s a wheel of colors and then you stop with a dull pressure on your torso and the back of your thighs. Half of the team is staring at you dumbly while the other half is biting back snickers. Jason’s cheeks are red from the exertion.

You look down to where your arms are dangling and you see an easily recognizable ass.

Jason, the newest addition to your terrible best friends club, decides to work on his David Attenborough impersonation at this inopportune moment. “As you can see, we have the primitive caveman has captured a mate and is now ensuring that his rival cavemen from capturing her interest.” You raise your middle finger at Jason who just gives you the wingman thumbs up. “Go get ‘em, tiger!” He hoots and you start plotting your revenge.

“Slade Wilson, put me down. My legs work just fine thanks,” you hiss, pounding your fists into his back. Unlike most times, Slade doesn’t bother pretending that it even hurt. Stupid hockey player physique.

“Would you stop squirming?” It’s less a question and more of a poor attempt to politely demand. “If you’re worried about is falling over, relax, you weigh like a sack of potatoes,” he says, hand squeezing the back of your thighs. You yelp, clutching at his shirt. His hand is far too close to your ass. You maneuver your body the best you can to glare at him and you’re pretty sure he’s grinning to himself. “I’ll stop squirming if you stop groping me.”

His eyes flick to you and he pretends to think for a moment. “Well, I can’t promise you that,” he says giving your thigh another light squeeze.

“Brute,” you scoff. He smacks your ass playfully and makes odd caveman noises. You flush a smile, tugging at your lips. “Won’t your team miss you?”

Slade looks over his other shoulder. “They’re grown men. They can go without a babysitter for five minutes.” As if to disprove his point, Waylon starts giving Crane a noogie, and Jason and Sionis start a fight. Slade sighs and you let out a loud snort.

taglist: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#slade wilson x reader #Slade wilson imagine #dc x reader #Jason todd #Roman Sionis #Terrible wingman

120 notes · View notes

richukibaby · 5 years

Text

Have a Little Fun With Him//Richard

Notes: this is my first fic and I am incredibly nervous about sharing it but why not try?

It’s for @cieloxcnco challenge

P.S. sorry @h-bea92 the nerves took over and I couldn’t wait I hope you like

I used the song Drown the Lover’s by Ritual “I should drown all the lovers that couldn’t love you more, won’t surface to exist, love like we never hurt”- it was such a good prompt.

The backstory of this fic is based on my real first love. Terrible, wonderful, violent, passionate, young. The rest is all my imagination.

Warning: smutty and my first piece so let’s hope this goes well :)

Word count: ~1600

*****************************************************************************************************

It was your first night out in a long time. You had broken up with your first love. A long four year relationship that was completely draining you at the end. Josh’s consistent cheating scandals, violent episodes, and continuous verbal abuse had become so repetitive. You loved him immensely, but you also deeply resented him for the pain and embarrassment his alcoholism had put you through. Your family taking him in wasn’t enough, nor was your undying loyalty. At last you had ended it but now you buried yourself in unrelenting schoolwork kept you wrapped up for weeks, unable to leave your house except for class. Tonight, however, your friends managed to convince you to leave the work and your past behind.

All your friends met at your house to drink before the club, mostly so they could convince you to put on the sexiest outfit you owned.

“THIS IS THE Y/N WE NEEDED ALL THIS TIME!” Your friend Summer screamed. You giggled as you pivoted around to see your back in the full body mirror. A bright red dress that stopped right below your ass. It was the riskiest thing you ever wore, completely naked underneath so there were no underwear or bra lines visible.

“GOD DAMN BITCH.” Your friend Liz shouted as she ran behind you smacking your ass.

“It’s so unlike me, there is literally no occasion for me to be wearing this right now.” You rationalized as you ran your hands down your waist.

“Nope. No. Stop.” Summer said, as the rest of your girlfriends nodded their heads. “You’re wearing it because you deserve to dance and have fun after how hard you work and the asshole you’ve moved on from. Stop worrying. Shut your brain off tonight.”

“Okay. Alright fine.” You grabbed your tequila shot and silently encouraged yourself that you can let loose.

*****************************************************************************************************

The second you stepped into the club you knew it would be a good night. With a decent amount of alcohol already coursing through your veins, your inhibitions had begun to slip away.

The DJ boomed over the microphone, “Mi gente, está noche me traje un regalito. Por favor denle una calida bienvenido a mis amigos CNCO!”

Your head snapped up from your drink as you watched five men in shiny gold jackets stand on stage.

“Oh my fucking god.” You screeched.

“Y/N is that…?” Liz said with her jaw agape.

“Yep.” You were a wild fan of CNCO. You were a fan since they were on La Banda but had met the boys at one of the listening parties they had held for the release of CNCO the album, and it had been a downward spiral into obsession since.

Your screams blended with the crowds as you shook your hips to the beat of “Se Vuelve Loca”. It was unbelievable to you how sexy the boys looked. Richard’s shirt already stuck to his chest, Zabdiel’s shiny black joggers clinging to his thick thighs like a second skin, Joel’s long fingers brushing the stray curls getting stuck to his forehead, Chris’s smirk as he thrusted into the air with the lyrics he sang, and Erick’s eyes were exceptionally blue as he smiled into the crowd.

“Saca la fiera que llevas dentroooo…” Joel sang as his curls bounced above the soaking wet bandana that graced his hairline.

You led Summer, Liz and your other friends away from the table you had and closer to the stage. You promised yourself you’d remain calm and collected in the one in a million chance one of them approached you.

However, the boys descended the stage just as you heard the music to “Estoy Enamorado de Ti” and you began to freak out. You were sweating much more than you would and you lifted your pointer finger and gestured for Richard to come towards you when he glanced in your direction.

“Bitch, I think he’s coming towards you. I told you this dress is killer.” Summer diabolically laughed in your ear.

The Dominican moved through the dance floor, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Hasta el amanecer…” His pink lips singing into the mic as he grabbed your hand and spun you. Your hips flush against his as he sang his next line. “Baby, you and I we’re gonna lose our heads.”

You rolled your hips backwards onto his and he grabbed your waist to control your movements. One hand met his on top of your hip and the other came up to the back of his neck as you swayed to the beat.

Your eyes scanned the room and saw the other boys dancing in some capacity with girls in the club. Richard continued the song from behind you and your core grew wetter every second you felt him grow harder behind you. The lyrics of the band you loved so much were drowned out by your breaths growing louder. And then, it was over. Richard grabbed the same hand that was on top of his and spun you further away from him.

He turned back at you and flashed his big smile that you always crushed on and gave a signature wink before he ran up on stage to finish the set.

*****************************************************************************************************

“WHAT THE FUCK.” Your lips mouthed at Summer and Liz as they stood with their mouths wide open.

CNCO had left the stage but your hips still burned from where Richard had touched you.

“Y/N I… I’m just… that was… oh my god.” Summer managed to stutter. You used your hand to cover the smile that was beginning to grow on your face. Heat rising to your cheeks as your thoughts get dirtier and dirtier.

The lights of the club managed to draw you back to reality as you picked your drink back up and began to dance with your friends again.

You weren’t dancing for long when you saw your friends eyes grow wide and a finger was tapping on your shoulder.

Over your shoulder was the same dazzling smile that left you breathless earlier in the night. “Hola mamita. I’m Richard. Sorry about before. It’s all about the show ya’know and you kinda drew me in with the…” He lifted his pointer finger and drew it in a few times.

A giggle escaped your lips before you could remind yourself to be cool. “I’m Y/N but don’t worry about it. It’s totally cool, I think we make pretty good dance partners.”

Liz rolled her eyes from behind Richard. “Sexy.” She mouthed as she grinded the air behind him.

He smirked and held his hand out. “Well we should keep dancing then.” You took his hand and followed him further into the crowd.

The two of you began to dance apart singing back and forth to Promiscuous. His caramel skin gleaming from the sweat of his performance before and it only made you more aroused now.

Suddenly you gasped and froze where you were standing. The ex you had so recently grieved was now standing behind Richard staring at the two of you. Richard froze along with you. He grabbed your cheek as he turned to follow your gaze. “Que paso baby?”

“That’s my ex boyfriend. We broke up a while ago and this is the first time I’m seeing him.” You said not breaking the stare.

Richard turned back towards you, put his hand on the small of your waist and pulled you in. “Are you guys cool or should we have a little fun with him?”

Your eyebrow lifted, considering the consequences of this proposition but then you looked into Richard’s lust-filled cocoa eyes. He licked his lips and his tongue lingered at the corner before he smiled. Your arm came up to the back of his neck and your nails scratched at his scalp leisurely. “Let’s have some fun.”

He pulled you in tight so that you straddled his right thigh as you rocked to the merengue that was playing in the club. His hands dug into your back to hold you as close as he could. He kindly tugged your dress down that was riding up as you grinded on his thigh and you hated yourself for not wearing underwear that could protect poor Richard’s pants from how wet you were. Abruptly, Richard laced his fingers into the hair at the bottom of your head and tugged back hard. You were filled with a moment of shock and pain before he slammed his lips into yours. He nibbled at your bottom lip and once you granted him entrance he moaned into your mouth.

You broke apart in a smile as you heard Christopher’s classic cackle of a laugh behind you. “AYYY!!”

Josh, your ex shouldered Richard as he angrily huffed past the two of you. Richard immediately tensed up but you leaned forward and nibbled on his earlobe. “We can have a little more fun if you want.” You shocked yourself with your alcohol-induced boldness.

“Ven mamita.” He whispered and you crossed your legs to hold the wetness.

*****************************************************************************************************

Once you were in CNCO’s dressing room backstage of the club, Richard pushed your back to the closed door and kissed down your neck. His hands slid down your sides and lifted up the ends of your dress.

“Y/N” He growled as he stepped back to stare at your naked body. “You came to the club with nothing on under this.” He scooped you up under your thighs and carried you to the couch that was covered in the boys dirty clothes.

“I’m gonna make you forget anything that guy ever did to you. Any hurt, any pleasure, any pain.” He pushed the dress up and kissed down your neck.

#cnco #cnco smut #richard camacho #cnco fic

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scribeofmorpheus · 5 years

Text

As Fate Would Have It (Part 16)

Paring: WinterSoldier!Bucky x Spy!Reader

Catch Up here | Masterlist

Words: 4.1k | Note: Reader’s alias is Elle/Helen

A/N: It is with great pleasure that I can finally, finally, say that this chapter was actually the first ever chapter I wrote for this series (before it was even a series tbh). All the previous chapters were meant to be simple, world-building prequels that spiralled out of control! lol. Writing just turns out like that sometimes.

Warnings: Violence, themes of PTSD, brainwashing, mentions of sex, terribly written action scenes and annngggst?

Note: I chose to call Bucky’s POV the 'Winter Soldier' because I firmly believe that at this point they are two separate people.

Songs: White Rabbit | The Winter Soldier | Siberian Overture

Feel free to ask to be tagged, leave a like, reblog or comment ♥

~Brooklyn~

You looked out the window overlooking a garden filled with yellow roses while a cup of tea cooled between your palms. Your reflection looking back at you with a blank expression, your hair still as white as snow. The steam reaching up to tickle your nose with the notes of chamomile and peppermint.

"How're the kids?" You asked the woman sat next to you. Her face framed by glasses that looked alien against her heart-shaped face. Grey hairs growing in number at a more frequent pace.

"Jack's finally got a job," she sounded thankful. "And Ellie just transfered to Brown."

You smiled warmly, "I told you he'd land on his feet."

"About god damn time, that kid nearly drove me up the wall."

You tutted, "Remember what the doctor said about minding that temper, it's not good for your blood pressure Sal."

"Keepin' my blood pressure in check is Hal's job," she said with a little sass as her thumb rubbed against her wedding ring. "You going somewhere?"

"Why'd you ask?"

"You only come over before you disappear for a while."

You chuckled, "Paris. Got a new job. Protective detail."

Sally looked out the window wistfully, her age showing clear as day, "Hal always promised we'd go to Paris for our honeymoon."

You turned to your old friend and nudged her with your elbow, "If you promise to keep your blood pressure in check, I'll take you someday."

"Someday for you isn't the same for me," Sally noted, looking at your reflection thoughtfully. "Hard to believe we were once the same age."

You stood from the chair and put on your bomber jacket, "We still are."

Sally took your cup to the sink, "Yes, you just discovered the secret to eternal youth. Good thing Annie isn't with us no more, or else she'd lock you in her basement till you told her your secret, god rest her soul."

You laughed half-heartedly. You placed a kiss on her temple before grabbing your motorcycle keys, "Try not to be too hard on Jack while I'm gone. Oh, and… uh, give Hal my best!"

"Will do, hun! Oh and Y/N!" She walked over to you and handed you a folded piece of photo paper. "I got Ellie to help me figure out how to use one of them copiers. It's a little darker than the original but..."

You looked down at the last photo you'd ever taken. Early 1942; you, Sally, Hal, Bucky, Steve and Annie stood under a going away banner that read:‘Good Luck At Your New Job!!’

"Two exclamation marks..." you mused lightly.

You left Sally's house and slid your helmet over your head.

***

The cryo-chamber unhooked with a metallic hiss, frost smoking out like fog as the cylindrical containment was lifted up. The hydraulics of the levers arm let out a groan of air. Yellow light bathing the room.

"Ghaaaaahh!" The Winter Soldier screamed in agony as the machine fastened over his right eye flashed blinding streaks of white light into his corneas.

"Zhelaniye," a man dressed in a decorated military uniform read out from a red leather-bound book -most likely a Major.

Longing

The screams persisted as a few more flashes of white light flickered.

"Rzhavyy."

Rusted

The screaming stopped.

"Semnadtsat’."

Seventeen

The machine gave off an electrical whizz as it dismantled away from the metal armed soldier's face. His breathing was raged, animalistic. His jaw still shut tight from the aftershocks of pain but it was his eyes that unsettled the most, seething with unbridled rage.

The Major continued reading out the words with no care for the soldier's disposition, "Rassvet. Pech’. Devyat. Dobroserdechnyy. Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu. Odin. Gruzovoy vagon."

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car.

The soldier in the chair had steadied his breathing now. Each breath calm, composed, sinister.

"Dobroye utro, Soldat." The Major said monotonously, slamming the red book shut.

Good morning, Soldier.

The soldier kept his eyes glued to something infinitesimal in front of him with almost inhuman stillness, "Ya gotov otvechat’." His voice was as rough as gravel.

Ready to comply

The Major walked over to a table and retrieved a file and opened it to the middle part. He placed the docket in front of the Winter Soldier, the file making a slapping noise with the table.

There were two photographs fastened to the docket with paper clips. The larger of the two photographs, and coincidentally of better quality, was of a rounding man with a thinning hairline and thick moustache. The smaller photo wasn't in colour or of a high resolution, the only features that could be made out were that it was an image of a woman wearing a trench coat almost as white as her hair, large glasses obscuring half her face.

"Your target is this man. He's a French politician."

The Winter Soldier stood, his metal finger tapping heavily on the photograph. "Understood."

"Soldat. Take extra precaution. He's hired extra security. Someone we've had trouble within the past. She has made quite a name for herself due to her illusive nature. No one knows where she came from, who trained her or her real name. The intelligence community has taken to calling her the White Rabbit."

The soldier flinched, his brain scrambling for a moment as a woman’s voice he didn't recognise spoke out as clear as day: "The little rabbit?"

Internally, a high pitched noise generated a distorted image of blood-stained lips opening into an unnerving smile. Dead eyes staring up at the sky.

His head jerked to the side in a ridged motion before it snapped back in place, strands of long raven hair sticking to the sweat on his face. The noise fizzled out of his brain as though it never existed. He looked up to his superior officer and shrugged off the incident that just occurred, "Understood."

~Paris, France~

You followed your client into the VIP lounge area of a prestigious club. As soon as you walked through the bead roped entranced, a ring of smoke diffused around your face, a trail of white smoke leading back to a patron sitting on a couch blowing out expertly crafted smoke rings from a hookah pipe. The smell of clover and something more primal, sexual, stuck to the walls of the secret member’s only club. Amidst all the fancy dressed men and women, you stood out with your all-black tactical gear.

Your client walked past several seedy rooms until he reached the final room at the end of the hallway. You stepped in front of him and opened the door. After canvassing the area you gave him the all-clear. Several minutes later his associates arrived and they all sat around in a circle of expensive tastes, finely tailored suits and beefy cigars that reminded you of Colonel Phillips.

It was strange how your memory of your encounter with him brought you comfort, but these days comfort was near impossible for you to find, so you took it where you found it.

You stood as still and balanced as a marble statue, your gloved hands held behind your back in a stiff posture. On occasion, you and other bodyguards would do a sweep of the room.

"Jesus, doesn't she freak you the fuck out?" One of the smartly dressed men asked in fluent French. A language you were well versed in. "She's like a fucking statue. I haven't seen her move once. Except for those dead eyes of hers."

Your employer glanced at you with a large cigar between his crooked teeth, "Sometimes, sure. But I've noticed how intimidating she makes me look when I'm in a room filled with assholes almost as lecherous as you!"

The men laughed- so did some of their protection detail.

"Besides, once you get passed the whole ghost look, she's actually not so bad to look at," your employer grumbled suggestively with a sick grin on his face.

Your eyes snapped to him and he choked on some of his spit, washing it down with a glass of port. You looked back to the windows as you canvassed the area again. A breeze blew the lace curtains softly, making you think of the lace curtains that had drawn patterns across Bucky’s face with the sunlight in his apartment.

You bit down, hard, as you forced yourself to focus on hand. A ray of red-light was reflected by a well-polished, silver, decor piece. The ray transformed into a dot and instinctively you reached across the room and pulled the back of your employer's chair to the ground.

The soft whistle of a silencer pierced through glass, grazing the side of your arm. You snarled at the contact.

The room was silent for a second and then a second bullet pierced through the glass window, this time forcing it to shatter.

"Get down!" You ordered as several security personnel moved to shield their employers and transport them away from the room.

You kicked the oak tabled to the side and took cover behind it. "Get them to the safe room downstairs!" You ordered the rest of the personnel.

"What about you?" One of the bodyguards asked.

"I'll lay down cover fire. Get them out of here." You said calmly as you upholstered your 9mm handgun and fired based off the trajectory of the bullets holes lodged in the wall.

Several of your bullets ricochet off something metallic from the sniper's nest on the adjacent roof. The impact forming sparks in the night air.

The room became a burial site for sniper slugs as they littered the walls and sofas and decorations. The metallic pinging sound reminding you to stay hunkered low until your enemies clip ran out.

You reloaded your gun and fired off cover shots as you moved away from the window. On the ground was a single casing. You recognised the make. Soviet slug, no rifling. The memory of the ambush in the mountains skittered across your synapses before you were brought back to the present by another shot tearing through the weak walls.

Suddenly, the shooting stopped. You rose from behind cover and tried to gain a visual of the target with a piece of broken mirror. From this angle, you saw the silhouette of what you assumed to be the rifleman run and then jump. The sound of glass shattering from the window a floor below alerting you to the fact he was now in the building.

A small object hit the floor in the room around the same time, you looked over and realised he had thrown a grenade into the room.

"Fuck..." you swore in a panic, holstering your gun before you lassoed the hooked end of your utility rope around a column and dove out the window. The explosion from the grenade sent off hundreds of pieces of shrapnel flying through the air. You managed to outrun the brunt of the impact, but some slugs embedded themselves in your back and thigh. You gasped from the pain.

Swinging in the air, you propelled your body towards the window the assailant had jumped through and unclipped the rope from your belt once you dove through the window.

You ran after the sounds of a heavy man’s boots sprinting down the series of open rooms. You were faster and more agile so you caught up to him faster than most would've been able too. As soon as you got close enough to the man, you sprinted closer and slid your legs under his in an effort to topple him.

He anticipated your moves with inhuman speed. As soon as your leg knocked his off-balance, he used his metal arm to balance his upheaved weight around and down so he was facing you as soon as his body stopped moving through the air. His fingers leaving a trail of claw-like scratches on the floor.

You quickly upholstered your weapon while your back was on the ground and fired off several shots. The assassin deflected them all with his opened metal palm.

You hissed in annoyance then backflipped twice to gain some distance between you and him before you fired more shots. This time he bobbed and weaved, avoiding most of your bullets save for the one that scrapped alongside his protective eyewear, grazing the skin above his eyebrow in an angled slant.

The assassin charged at you with all his strength. You pulled the trigger but the clip was empty. You tossed your gun and timed his charge so you could sling over and around him, wrapping your legs around his midrib as you furiously hammered the business end of your elbow into the concave of his shoulder blade.

One, two, three, you landed bone-crunching hits into his collar and shoulder blade but it didn't slow him down for a second. He reached over and around, grabbed the back of your tactical vest and flung you over and away from him.

Your body slumped into the wall with intense velocity, popping your shoulder out of its socket and leaving an indent in the drywall. You coughed out blood, then shook the ringing from your ears and stood to face him. Gripping your dislocated arm, you tugged on it hard, snapping it in place with a painful grunt.

"Okay, comrade. You want to play dirty, let’s play dirty!" You rotated your wrists clockwise, activating the current switch embedded inside you gloves. They thrummed with an electric current pulsating through them as you unclipped the metal batons from your back. Electric crackles of electricity sparking down the length of you metal fight sticks. "Let's see how well you handle current!"

The assassin stalked over in large strides, upholstering his knife from the side of his leg. He gripped it with the precision of an expert. Come to think of it, a lot of his tactics were similar to those you were taught in the Red Room.

He forward slashed and backslashed in quick succession of the other. You pirouetted away on your light feet and spun around him, bringing your electrified batons crashing down on his metal arm. The electricity conducted lethally from your gloves to his body, making him let out a shrill howl.

The sound of his cries sounded familiar. Darkened but familiar.

You faltered for a split second and that was all the time he needed to spin around and kick you against the wall.

You heard your rib crack as one baton fell to the ground. Relentlessly, he traded one blow after the other with his metal arm aimed at your head. You ducked and leaned away from each attack, but the wall now had four fist-sized punctures in them.

For his final move, he spin-kicked you in the stomach one more time and the wall integrity gave in. You fell through the crumbling wall and landed against a mound of white, dusty drywall.

The assassin hovered over you, knife in hand. Your mouth was filled with the taste of blood and your organs screamed in agony. You tried to crawl towards your batons a few inches in front of you.

You dragged your body at a snail’s pace, the assassin simply followed after you in languid steps. When your hand wrapped around the baton, his boot pressed down on your gloved hand, preventing you from lifting it and cracking the electric conductor that generated the current in your gloves.

He turned you over so your back was to the floor and your eyes stared at his black mask. He slipped his knife between your ribs and you let out a soft gasp for air.

"Hhhnngggg!" You bit down to keep from screaming, your mind beginning to fracture as you hallucinated pink petals raining down around you.

You gripped his hand and tried to push it away. A sliver of electricity passed through you both. Your eyes shot open from surprise. For a second, you thought you were back in your old apartment, hands laced together with Bucky while you sat on your couch. Then the bone serrating sound of the knife leaving your chest snapped you back to the present.

With what remnants of a stable mind you had left, you urged the muscles in your hand to work as you reached into a pouch pocket and pulled out a syringe of adrenaline. You took several controlled breaths and then plunged it into your heart, a scream rippling out of your lungs as you pushed down on the plunger.

***

The Winter Soldier stood, backing away from his defeated foe, wiping his knife on the sleeve of his shirt as he made his way towards his real objective. Then he heard her gasp raggedly and his mind instantly pictured her wearing a pink waitress uniform, notepad in hand, offering a handkerchief to a scrawny man seated across him.

He braced both sides of his head as this intrusive image seared like hot coals across his thoughts. The pain was so intense he was brought down to one knee in a loud thud. A scream filled the room and he willed the pain to stop as he turned to look at the woman he left dying on the floor, except she wasn't dying anymore.

In amazement and curiosity, he watched as she picked herself off the floor. Every scrape, cut and wound beginning to heal, as she came after him. She danced around him faster than before, the adrenaline making her a nimble opponent, too slippery for him to get his hands around. She punched, kicked and elbowed with combo after combo in a dizzying flurry.

The Winter Soldier was slowly backed towards a tall window. She kicked him three times square in the chest, face and shoulder, sending his back forcefully into the window glass, causing it to sound out a cracking sound the instant his face guard got knocked off.

When he thought she was about to finish her attacks and kick him out the eight-story building, she froze. Eyes opened wider than ever, eyeballs skittering across every inch of his face in search of something, her lips and fingers quivering subtly. It was then he saw her fists no longer clenched defensively.

"That's impossi--" Her words no louder than a pin-drop.

The Winter Soldier's metal arm reached out and grabbed onto her arm, using his tremendous strength to fling her into the adjacent wall. Their faces mere inches apart. Hers contorted by pain and confusion. She stared into his steel-blue eyes, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Her petite fingers wrapped around his hand -still connected to her throat- but she didn't fight him.

Anger filled his senses as he couldn't make sense of all the images and colours and flashes that were evoked by her touch. The skull-cracking headache placing unbearable pressure on his cranium. He tried to blink the pain away, and for all his agonising efforts, it only grew deeper. The Winter Soldier struggled to keep his grip fixed on her throat.

***

Bucky's metal fingers felt so cold against your skin, almost as cold as his eyes. It hurt you how devoid of emotion they were when he stared at you with menacing rage. Nevertheless, you kept searching for a glimpse of the man you once knew. The man you once loved. And if the swell of emotions tangling against your heart was any indication, you were certain you were still in love with him.

Your fingers slid along the length of his arm as he turned his gaze away from you as though you burned him. His brows close together and eyes crinkling in pain.

You were a half-inch away from touching a strand of his outgrown hair when his head snapped back to yours with a newfound determination, and then he began to squeeze his grip.

He effortlessly raised your body off the ground, feet dangling as blood rushed to your brain. Your fingers began to claw and dig against his iron-clad grip, fighting to open up your airways.

***

The woman struggled against his tightened grip, back of her feet kicking against the wall as she failed to gasp for breath. She made him feel uncertain. The touch of her skin, even against his metal arm, felt hauntingly familiar. Almost as though they had this before, be close to one another, touch one another. Another image attacked his thoughts, this time she was seated beside him high atop the world, watching an extravaganza of fireworks.

“What… Is she doing to me?” His thoughts screamed in disarray.

Whatever powers she had over him mattered not because no matter how many images shed conjure to bombard his senses, and no matter how conflicting his feelings became, she was keeping him from his target. And the Winter Soldier never fails.

"Bucky..." She whimpered.

His hand began to shake as another memory was awoken:

“Bucky,” she whispered before bridging the gap between the two them. Rumblings of a crowd begin to cheer and whistle. Her giggling into the kiss. Fireworks going off in the distance, bathing her skin in its artificial rainbow of colours.

The Winter Soldier shook his head furiously, blinking away the image. He looked back up at the woman locked within his death grip, her face turning red.

A single tear ran down her cheek and plopped onto his metal arm. She looked at him without fear or bitterness.

"Buck," she failed to let out the whole word through cracking vocals.

Another flash bombarded his senses:

“I’ve missed you, Buck,” she admitted. He placed one hand around her cheek, the other around the small of your back holding her gaze. His lips met hers in a passionate embrace, she leaned into his touch as a moan escaped her lips. He guided her body towards a wall, pinning her there while one hand moved achingly slowly from her waist to her thigh. His grip greedy and rough causing her to quiver.

The flash disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

The woman saw this as an opening as sucked in as much air as her constricted airways were allowed.

"Buchanan!" She shouted with all the strength she had left, eyes glaring at him with fire.

This time the flash was stronger:

"Buchanan!" She mewled as she climaxed atop him. Her swollen lips placing sloppy kisses on his. The muscles of her core contracting around him, edging him closer to his own release. He gripped her hips higher, she moaned pleasantly in response. He thrust deeper, trying to become one with her, and then he climaxed inside her, filling her completely. She fell against his chest like a rag doll, her fingers drawing circles where his heart should be. Then he uttered: "God… I never want to be apart from you."

***

Bucky, or whatever it was he had become now, instantly released his fingers from your neck, leaving behind deep bruised marks. You sucked in air like some famished animal, your hand gripping at your shirt collar.

You scampered for purchase on the wall as your balance was still uneven. Slowly, you brought your eyes to meet Bucky's and this time you felt relief.

He was on his knees, a lost expression taking over as tears slid down his face. He was looking up at you, hands shaking furiously. The veins on his temple swollen and exposed. This wasn't the face of the stranger who just tried to kill you. This was the face of a man torn in two.

Hope flickered to life inside you. Your eyebrows drawing upwards in solace. A dark chuckle sputtering in your throat.

Of course, this was how fate decreed you meet again. Any other way would've been too easy.

Through the silence, you picked up the soft sound of the elevator nearby ding each time it went up a floor. There was you back up.

"H-Helen?" He finally found the strength to speak in a voice darker than the one you knew.

You hadn't expected him to call you by that name. You knew your focus should have been on the miracle Bucky was alive and seemingly hadn't aged, or the fact he remembered you, but instead, your thoughts returned to that damned day in the mountains. To the sound of bullets cutting through bodies, explosions scattering shrapnel into your body.

Your mind retreated further into itself, returning to that chair in the torture cell and all the times you'd been showered with shock after shock after shock.

You knelt down and picked up a piece of piping that had been loosened during the fight. Your eyes closing shut for a moment as you took shallow breaths.

The pain, starvation and hate you endured while being held prisoner at the expense of Yelena's betrayal turned into a whirlpool of rage, dragging you to the bottom of a dark pit inside you.

When you opened your eyes, white-hot fury burned through your irises. You snapped like steam building in a pressure cooker and before you could stop yourself, you swung the piece of piping at Bucky's head, knocking him onto the ground. He was out cold.

The elevator dinged again. They were getting closer.

"I always hated that name," you dropped the pipping and ran your hand through your damp hair. You tried to strategize how to get out of this new predicament. "Now, what the fuck am I going to do with you?"

~Part 17 Coming Soon

Tags: @fangirl-colo @dormousse @smallmarvel @ren-ni @sargentbucket @nikolett3 @wnygirl2012 @jentismyname @evilgeniuslabz-blog @myrabbitholetoneverland @sleepingspacedragon @500daysofbecky @reidreader

#winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky imagines #marvel imagines #the winter soldier #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #afwhi #original characters #multi-era #bucky x female reader

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dxmagedrose · 4 years

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GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!

Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!

PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;

FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it.

Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now! [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]

STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore. even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye. i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )

TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c

A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???

A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!

GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf

WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way.

ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all.

A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER. F L Y P A P E R. FLYPAPER. FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street. roast me.

FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.

YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.

TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani. I am but a simple opossum.

PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.

FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’) It’s the most grounding smell in the world.

CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I—— I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!! take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.

DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.

IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh

DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies

DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.

FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT… the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.

FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)

… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //

#||: && the mundane ( ooc );#( get to know a bitch!! )#( this was... a lot of me rambling about weirdly personal shit at 2 am )

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newdougg · 5 years

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The Challenge

A/N: So I literally woke up this morning and this idea for a drabble just popped in my head. But this ended up being way longer than I intended so I guess it’s a oneshot? Hopefully when I get this out of my brain I can get some inspiration for the next part of Prague. Also I’m not putting any links on this because of tumblr’s fucked that up for everyone, so if you want to check out my masterlist, which only has two stories right now, please go directly to my blog and click on the link there! Reblogs will be greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Just all the fluff. A swear or two.

“How about you? Any luck lately?”

“Not at all. It seems I’ve hit a dry spell on the dating front,” You sigh heavily and take a long swig of wine. You’re about to put your glass back down on the counter when you see the pity written all over Wanda’s face. Another healthy gulp held your annoyance at bay. It wasn’t Wanda’s fault you weren’t seeing anyone and couldn’t seem to get past the first date. But listening to her gush about Vision for the past few minutes was too much to bear. “I’m just tired of putting myself out there all the time. I just want a guy to like... do all the work. Just ask me the fuck out. And to like be cute about it too. Make the first time he asks me out memorable.”

“I think you’re expecting too much,” Wanda said, raising a brow.

Sighing, you nod in agreement, “I’ve come to the conclusion that all men suck and I’m doomed to be single forever.”

“That’s the spirit,” the faux cheeriness in Bucky’s voice was not lost on you. He strode around the corner, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tee that was annoyingly too tight. Not that you cared to notice. A hair tie kept those chestnut locks in place low on his head, though he always looked better with his hair hanging free, framing his face. Not that it mattered to you anyway.

“I don’t recall inviting you to this conversation,” you huffed. Bucky ignored you. He opened the fridge, grabbed the milk, and drank a third of it straight from the carton. You and Wanda watched, horrified. “You’re proving my point y’know.”

“You can’t use a glass?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Relax, I bought this for myself,” he turned the carton to the side where in big, bold letters was written BUCKY. The smaller script underneath read Wilson if you even look at this milk you’re dead. He wiped his perfect lips- not that you thought they were perfect, nope- with the back of his hand, and sat on the island, right next to your glass, “What point am I proving again?”

You rolled your eyes, “Just that all men are terri-”

“... terrible and you’ll be single forever. Right.” His smirk was so slappable. Yet so dreamy. Bucky threw his hands up when he caught sight of your death glare, “Hey, I’m just repeating what you said.”

“Still unnecessary,” you grumbled, “Anyways, I don’t see you bringing home any... what’s the term you like to use? Dames, lately.”

“You keeping track of my dating habits?” His eyebrows waggle suggestively and his mouth curves back into that fucking smirk and you want to die a little bit.

“I’m observant, it’s part of the job,” you take a long gulp of your wine, hoping the glass hides the blush that was hot on your face. You finally put the glass down, maybe a little too forcefully. Some precious wine spills from the glass and it takes every fiber of your being not to whine aloud at the loss, “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re in the same boat as me.”

“Well,” he begins, hopping off the island and standing far too close, “First of all, I’m just biding my time, waiting for the opportune moment and the right girl. Quality is more important than quantity. Which means,” He smugly refills your glass for you, only he can pour smugly, “I’m in this boat by choice, As are you. Because your choice of men, if you can call them that, is absolutely horrible.”

Your mouth hangs open for just second as you realize what that means, “So you’re keeping track of my dating life?” The tick in his jaw barely visible. His cocky demeanor falters ever so slightly and the feeling of making Bucky Barnes squirm, even just the tiniest bit, is glorious.

“Besides,” Wanda pipes up, coming to your defense. You almost had forgotten she was even there, “Her taste in men isn’t horrible. What about that field agent...what’s his name... Nick!”

“See, now you’re proving my point,” Bucky crosses his arms, “Nick is an asshole.”

“What makes him an asshole?”

“He’s a shitty tipper, not a fan of animals of any kind, stares at himself in the mirror while he’s working out,” Bucky is listing all the traits off on his fingers, “But the most telling thing is his ‘locker room talk’. Disgusting. Steve and I used to kick guys’ asses for talking like that. Well, Steve tried to anyway.”

You distinctly remember Nick showing up for dinner with a black eye once. He refused to tell you what happened. It was incredibly hard to bite back your smile, so more wine it was, “Well that’s just one guy. I am perfectly capable of getting a quality guy to ask me out. You, on the other hand,” pointing at him at him with the same hand that was holding your glass, “might have a hard time getting a date acting all presumptuous and shit.”

Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes- not that you really find them beautiful, they were objectively pretty of course, but blue eyes always are, right?- look you up and down, a look of delight crosses his face, “Is that a challenge?”

“You know what? Yeah, it is,” A sudden confidence overwhelms you, (wine’ll do that to you) and you dared to take a step forward, practically toe to toe with the super soldier, “I know I can get a quality guy to ask me out before you can get a girl to agree to go on a date with you.”

“We’ll see about that.” You’re too busy polishing off the last of your wine to notice, but Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Worry clouds his features extremely briefly; it’s gone before you put your glass back down.

“Oh we will,” you begin to strut away, alcohol-induced confidence evident with every step, “Better get to work Barnes.”

Bucky huffed sharply, then called, “Hey, Y/N?”

“What,” You spin around on your heel, “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out al-”

“You free for dinner tomorrow?”

You mouth hung open. Wanda’s brows were at her hairline. Everything all of a sudden seemed far too quiet. Bucky’s arms were crossed, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

You couldn’t decide what was more unbelievable to you; the fact that Bucky Barnes had just asked you to dinner, or that he seemed nervous to hear your answer.

“Um, what?” was all you could manage.

“You wanna go to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“What are you doing?” a dumb question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking it.

“I’m asking you the fuck out. Doing all the work. Trying to make it memorable,” He answered plainly. Jerk.

“I... yeah, I do. Sure.” You looked to Wanda to affirm that this actually just happened, but she was typing away on her phone, no doubt texting Nat what had just transpired.

“Great,” the nervousness has disappeared, and he was back to his normal, irritatingly cocky self, “I know a place you’ll like. Does seven work for you?”

“Yeah,” you were still dazed.

“See you then,” he treated you to one last smirk as he walked past you to his room. You couldn’t move. The last minute was a complete whirlwind that you were still trying to process, and the wine wasn’t helping. The first time it had let you down. As you watched him walk down the hall, and watching him go was pretty great, you had a thought. Good for you.

“This better not be because you just want to win some stupid chall-”

“Like I said earlier,” He turned to you, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, “I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the opportune moment and the right girl. Quality.”

Smooth.

“Doesn’t mean you win,” You didn’t know what else to say. If he couldn’t see you were blushing before, he had to have noticed now.

“Actually,” Wanda clarified, “He got a girl to agree to go out with him and you got a guy to ask you out, so it’s a tie.”

“Whatever,” Bucky called over his shoulder as he continued to make his way to his room, “Got what I wanted anyway.”

You didn’t see it, but he was sporting the biggest, cheesiest, giddiest grin ever.

A/N: Please, please, please reblog and let me know what you think!

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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harrypotterimagined · 6 years

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Prompt list!

I thought it was time for another prompt list. These are all just quotes from some of my favorite people, and if someone knows from who, mESSAGE ME AND WE CAN BE FRIENDS!!!

“Life’s not fair, you know? But no one ever said it was.”

“Shoot for the moon; if you miss, you’ll die in outer space, which is cool.”

“Why try new things when I can try nothing?”

“I make loneliness work for me.”

“there was a time where I was sexually attracted to (name). And that also happens to include now.”

“I’m not a dancer, per say, but I can move my body in a compelling way - usually it compels people to leave the room.”

“I don’t eat seafood. because I am me.”

“Create folds in your chin to distract them.”

“I’m here to show the world I’ve turned into a fucking monster.”

“I’m a complex human person.”

“You can put a fucking man on the moon. But I can’t get laid.”

“That’s a lie, I’m very lonely.”

“Unconditional love should not be wasted on the ungrateful.”

“Just be yourself and if no one likes that... Change.”

“Reality is a bunch of bullshit.”

“It’s a long story, bitch.”

“I’m actually not that young, I’m just ignorant.”

“I’m not gonna panic because I don’t do that anymore. it’s gonna be okay.”

“If you need me, you know where to find me; seeking validation and self-love in my dumpster.”

“You don’t have a secret if you hide it really well.”

“This is my confident face.”

“Maybe that’s your magic trick.” “Not killing myself?”

“People think I’m a retired math teacher dying of cancer.” “So you’re not retired?”

“I feel confident, I feel sexy, I feel stupid.”

“You know I’m not going to fall asleep until you make out with me.”

“You never told me.” “What? THat my hairline was receding?”

“Sometimes I’m so lonely I forget who I am.”

“Glamour is not my choice. It’s my destiny.”

“You’re gonna lose, bitch.”

“I have nothing to say.” “For once.”

“Sometimes the problem is you.”

“Romantic love is great for however many weeks or months it lasts, but there’s a reason movies end there.”

“Work hard... Whatever.”

“Rome wasn't built by going to the gym once.”

“Oh, y’all wanted a twist?”

“All my jokes are cries for help.”

If at first you don’t succeed, face it; you’re garbage.”

“Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s clinical depression.”

“You drank blood, I played the clarinet.”

“Don’t try to impress someone. Find someone who is already impressed by you.”

“I’m just more comfortable now.” “I’m less comfortable now.”

“Nothing. I just like you.”

You know what they love to talk about?” “Bullshit.” “You. Because you are bullshit.”

“You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. You look like Seal.” (Seal the artist, not the animal!)

“Why are you so obsessed with me?”

“Why don’t you eat a Cheez-it, and shut the fuck up?”

“Beauty fades, dumb is forever!”

“Not today Satan. Not today.”

“Satan was there.”

“Let me ask you a fair question: what do you do successfully? Quickly.”

“Baloney!”

“I would never sleep with him/her because I only give to charity once a year.”

“You like that? I made that shit up today.”

“I was raised by wolves, bitch.”

“The most important thing is to accept and be comfortable with who you are. Anyone who had a problem with it can fuck off.”

“Well, they’re all helping me by being horrible and making me look better.”

“She’s overthinking and - she’s thinking about a sandwich.”

“Calm down, Beyoncé.”

“Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it”s raining!”

“I love it. She’s always greasy. Consistent.”

“Stay behind the curtain, bitch!”

“I can be me, which is a fool, and it’d be enough.”

“Oh, look at you guys. I hope you’re not as stupid as you are ugly.”

“I think that people are people, and we do the best we can.”

“That’s funny. Give that guy a medal.”

“The best revenge is to just do better.”

“I just have one thing to say... Please stop immediately.”

“What do I do in my free time? What’s free time?”

“When you start living your life for you, then you stop giving a fuck about what other people think about you.”

“I look at her as a dad.”

“Fuck all the way off.”

“I’m too punk to wash my tights.”

“You’re so full of shit the toilet’s jealous.”

“You don’t need to waste time trying to impress the people who aren’t gonna accept you for who you are.”

“I don’t know what intimidates a girl more: the girls who are good at the things they’re not good at, or the girls who are good at what they’re not good at.”

“In my world, everything has the potential to be funny. Joyful things, painful things... It's all about how you view it and if you're able to take an objective stance on the situation.”

“You have something I don’t have.” “Beauty?”

“Motherfucker. Stir the pot, (name). Want a spoon?”

“I get it, I’m a bitch.”

“Pain is beauty and I’m the prettiest.”

“No one loves you. So you never get broken up with.”

“I’m garbage.”

“When you’re a terrible person, like I am, you just hope for the best.”

“I’m gay because I love it.”

“I like my men how I like my coffee. incapable of loving me back.”

“I don’t get cute, I get drop dead gorgeous.”

“She was the one backstabbing me behind my back.”

“Sit your ass down and shut the hell up, bitch!”

“Winning isn’t everything, but wanting to is.”

“What the fuck is going on in here on this day?”

“How did I ever get so motherfucking gorgeous?”

“Don’t fuck with me, fellas!”

“Stupid bitch.”

“All of you guys think I’m like shit.”

“I pity you for the face you have.”

“We all make choices, but that was a choice.”

“Smile for me... Don’t smile.”

“I’m knitting myself a blanket because if this gets boring I’m gonna take a nap with it.”

“I tend to think that emotions are for ugly people.”

“Hold on, let me look in my bag if I can find a fuck to give.”

“I have no words for the level of your stupidity.”

“You’d be really cute if you didn’t talk or have a face.”

“You look like shit and it’s not funny.”

Oh, for Christ's sake, at least lie quickly!”

“I liked it. And I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have nightmares about it, too.”

“Do your best and don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m just me. That’s all I can be.”

“Girl, I know I’m gorgeous, you don’t need to tell me anything.”

“Do whatever the fuck you want to do.”

“You don’t have to fit a certain mold to make it in an industry or in any desire you want.”

“No, you’re bullshit.”

“I’m hilarious, beautiful, talented and humble. You’re welcome.”

“As long as you love yourself and you’re proud of everything you did, fuck what everybody else says.”

“My philosophy on acceptance from other people is: Fuck other people.”

“”Deal with it, or go the fuck home.”

“You can’t kill evil that easy.”

“Eat that chicken, you bitch.”

“I didn’t know Satan could cry.”

“Oh Jesus, gross.”

“Know what you’re worth and demand three times that.”

206 notes · View notes

namjoonsteeth · 7 years

Text

Ruin The Friendship V

Title: Ruin The Friendship (mini-series) Part 5

Word-Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Jay Park/ Reader (kinda)

Summary: Best friends to lovers. Inspired by Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato.

Genre: Smutty Fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

I leave Jay’s bed in the morning before he even wakes up. I thought I was ok last night, that I’d come to a resolution, but when I opened my eyes and felt his arms around me all I felt was how cold he was last night. I spent my life brushing Jay’s antics under the rug, forgiving his actions as quickly as they came solely because it’s what I thought I was supposed to do as his friend, his best friend.

Today I feel a little betrayed. I’d always given a hundred and ten percent of myself into the relationship between us back when it was only platonic. I couldn’t help the hurt deep in my chest at the inkling that he had been accusing me of maybe wanting the attention or even choosing it over him.

“Men are idiots,” I mumble to myself, pulling a wide tooth comb through my wet hair. My apartment seems foreign and maybe a little neglected. I’d spent most nights at Jay’s over the last few weeks and even when I didn’t, I was only home long enough to fall into bed. I can’t remember the last time I’d used my stove or even opened my fridge.

My phone rings from my bedroom. I pull the towel around my body tighter. Pulling the phone to my ear, I don’t bother checking who it is first.

“Hello?”

“You’re still mad at me,” my boyfriend’s voice sounds so tired, like he literal just woke up. It’s nearly eleven, he’s usually awake by now but granted we both had a late night.

“I’m not mad, I’m just a little disappointed,”

He groans into the phone. “Don’t say that, Y/n. That’s worse than you being mad at me,”

“I know. That’s why I said it. Listen I’m in the middle of sorting my hair out. Can I talk to you later?”

“Y/n,”

“Jay,” I shoot back at him.

“You left,” he says. “You said you would stay,”

“I never said I wouldn’t go home, Jay. It was late, so I stayed the night. And second, how do you think I felt when you left me ass naked on your couch? Or when you’d had your fill and decided I wasn’t worth even talking to,”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Y/n,”

“Oh trust me this isn’t a fight yet. We’ve had plenty so I’m surprised you can’t tell the difference,”

He’s quiet for a long time. I roll my eyes up at the ceiling waiting for him to come up with something else. He’s used to getting his way in all aspects of his life. He works harder than anyone I know to ensure that he’s always on top. What he says goes. Not this time. Not with me.

“I over-reacted, I know. But don’t give up on me-,”

I scoff interrupting him. “Stop being so fucking dramatic. I’m not giving up on anything. You can’t treat me like a toy, Jay. I’m not some girl who’s just itching to make you happy and do whatever you want,”

“I know, Y/n. I know. What do you want me to say?”

I sigh and pull the towel tighter around, getting cold as my body dries off.

“I don’t want you to say anything, Jay. I want to get some work done. I want you to go do whatever it is you usually do. And I want to sleep because I’m living on four hours of sleep right now,”

“So I can’t see you today,” he says softly.

“I don’t know. I’m still irked beyond belief. I’ll call you,”

He scoffs. “You’ll call me? Ok, Y/n. Let me know when you’re over your little-,”

“You’re the one who fucked up, Jay. Don’t act like I’m not justified in wanting to be away from your possessive ass. I said I’ll call you, so I’ll call you,”

I feel the tears prick behind my eyes again. I can’t do this. The tension, the angst. I don’t know how to function. I look up at the ceiling, willing the tears to pull back in. I don’t know why I can’t just keep it together.

“Are you crying?”

Instead of answering his question, I wipe my eyes. I fail at making my sniffle as quiet as possible.

“We’ll talk,” I whisper. “We’ll talk. Just let me have a few hours,”

I sit on the edge of my bed.

“Ok, baby,” he says quietly.

I flop back on my bed when we hang up. It’s a new relationship I keep reminding myself. You could think you know everything about a person. You could think you know how they’ll react in any given situation. And yet, this hostile Jay replays in my head dragging me away from the club, leaving me discarded after he’d fucked me, refusing to talk to me, and then expecting a few sweet words and kisses was the resolution.

We need space. We need to set some boundaries in this new relationship. And we need to come to an understanding that he’s done taking his frustrations out on me.

I get dressed and head to my studio to start sorting through whatever is left before Bora leaves me all alone for three days. I’m hit with how much I actually have to do. There are at least four groups who are on the schedule for consultations and fittings for several different events. I focus my attention entirely on the work in front of me. I’m so focused, I don’t have time to be stressed out about Jay or anything else for that matter.

When I’m done, I feel accomplished, my head seems a bit clearer, and I can admit to missing Jay just a little. Not enough to call him yet. Maybe that’s what we need, time to miss each other.

When he’d get these pockets of substantial time at home, we put pressure on ourselves to make time for each other, to stay involved despite our busy schedules. Now, it seems like it has become expected for us to see each every night. Don’t get me wrong, I much rather prefer going to bed and waking up next to him, but it’s starting to feel like maybe we’re moving a little quick.

I roll my eyes at myself. With the amount of time we’ve known each other, this shouldn’t feel like a new relationship. Still, we’re navigating, discovering, even more, layers about each other day by day. We’re finding things we don’t like and that’s a new concept for both of us.

Y/n: I’m going out to meet up with friends after work. I’ll see you after if you’re not busy

He texts back within seconds.

Jay: I’ll be over

I’m meeting Bora, Elise, and Chae-won at a coffee shop a few minutes away from my office. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Chae and I miss her terribly. Elise and the other hand I could honestly do without. She has always been intrigued by my relationship with Jay.

Very early she’d taken the platonic status of our relationship as an excuse to get closer to him. Back then I couldn’t really do anything about her inquiries.

The three of them are seated at a table in the back of the cafe. Bora is deep in conversation, talking animatedly about something with her purple hair swinging around her ears. Chae smiles and stands from her chair when she sees me. Her arms come around me tightly, my face pressed into her teased long dark hair.

“Girl, it’s been too long!” She tells me. Chae and I have always been close. She’s from New York, and we bonded over how much we miss home sometimes.

“I know, you got married and decided you didn’t need us anymore,” I laugh. Chae rolls her eyes at me but smiles wide taking her seat again. I sit between her and Bora, across from Elise.

“Hey, Y/n,” she says.

“How are you?” I ask her.

It’s always awkward but we try. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a tight severe ponytail. She’s a model, finding it easier to get work in Korea because she’s a foreigner. She fits the standards of beauty here, and good for her. I just always found her tactic a bit...manipulative.

We all fall into conversation, catching up on each other’s lives. The four of us together never go too deep into our lives. I’m sure Elise has a deep stimulating conversation with Chae-won or even Bora but when we’re together, we keep it as surface level as possible.

“Did you forget to give Jay my number again,” Elise’s crystal blue eyes narrow on me.

I’ve always made excuses; leaving early before she’d gotten a chance to hand her information off, or pretending it had gotten lost in the bottom of my purse. By now she has to know that it’s not going to happen.

“Actually, Elise, I don’t think I will,” I say taking a sip of the coffee Bora had gotten for me.

Elise’s smile drops, her eyebrows raising to her hairline.

“God, Y/n. You’re so protective,”

I laugh shrugging my shoulders. “It’s not like that. He’s just seeing someone,”

“Is it serious?” She asks me.

“A few weeks, I think, but-“

She interrupts me, her mega smile back in place. “So it’s not. I don’t mind competition. And you’ll be my foot in the door right?”

“No, I really won’t,” I laugh. “It’s me, Elise. We’re together. I’m not trying to be an asshole but he’s kind of my man now,”

Her light eyes narrow on me, her long fingernails tapping against her cup. “You’re kidding. Wait, that girl in the picture he posted a week ago? That’s you?”

I shrug shooting her a look that I hope looks apologetic rather than smug. I am a little, though. Being close to Jay has always made me feel a bit smug; like I was in on some secret that everyone wanted to know. He’s cool, he’s popular, he’s the elusive bad boy that no one can get to.

“You said you weren’t into him,”

“Come on, Elise. You can’t actually be mad. You told me you just wanted to sleep with him,” Chae-won chimes in.

“Yeah, but it was common knowledge that I called dibs,”

“Actually, Y/n had dibs on him for the last fifteen years,” Bora says nonchalantly.

“But you said you’d help me,” Elise pushes out her bottom lip.

“I lied,” I wince. “Listen I feel a little bad, but I’m not going to just let him go just because he’s missing out on one chance to get his dick wet again,”

“This is ridiculous, does everybody know about this?” She asks us incredulously.

Bora and I shrug. Chae looks like she’s bored of this conversation. “No, Elise, but it’s been pretty obvious they were going to get together, you noticed too,”

“Yes but, what happens to bros before hoes,”

“Oh hush, Elise, you know this doesn’t apply to Y/n and Jay,” Chae says.

Elise crosses her slender arms over her chest. “I feel cheated,”

“There are hundreds of other guys in the city trying to be Jay Park, pick one,” Bora tells her.

“So that’s it? It’s set in stone that she gets to just take the guy I like,”

“You sound like a child,” Bora laughs, pushing her short hair behind her ears.

“I’m leaving,” I announce. I’m wasting time. This whole conversation is a waste of time. I could be cuddled up to my boyfriend instead of explaining myself to someone who pretends to be a friend of mine.

I think she used to like getting under my skin about Jay. A Cheshire smile at the knowledge that if he had decided to link up with her, there wasn’t anything I could do. Now there’s plenty. It’ll be a cold day in hell when I pass anything from her on to my boyfriend, and even then it’d be a stretch.

“I’ll call you,” Chae says.

I hate that she seems to have to pick sides. I don’t want her too. There really isn’t any reason to. There’s no way that Elise is even playing the game to even get her own side, and if she is, she’s playing by herself.

I call Jay on my way home.

“Hey, I’m almost home. Are you coming over?”

“Yes, baby, I’m still coming over,” we’re quiet for a second longer than normal. It’s awkward and I hate how it brings a lump to my throat. Maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion; dragging it out. I’m not sure, I just know that I want nothing more than to have his arms around me again.

“Listen, we’ll talk about this and then we’re done with it ok?”

“Whatever you want, Y/n,”

“I want us to be ok, Jay,”

“We are, baby. We’re fine. We just need to make sure we’re on the same page,” he tells me. “And we are, I think. We’re fine,” he repeats. I don’t know if it’s for his benefit or mine.

He promises to meet me outside of my place in a few. I tell him he doesn’t have to leave work just to spend the rest of the day with me. He calls me ridiculous before hanging up. My pace seems to pick up at the thought of seeing him. I don’t know if this is the love or infatuation part of our relationship, but either way, I’m almost jumping into his arms when I see him waiting for me right outside my place.

My arms wrap around his neck, my lips falling onto his cheek. He kisses my neck before pulling back to kiss my mouth quickly.

He looks too good to just be some guy meeting up with his girlfriend. A black T-shirt stretches across his chest, his ever-present cap hiding his face just a bit.

I lead him up to my apartment, my hand tangled in his. We’re silent, both trying to figure out what to say. I left. I think he’s a bit scared of what that meant.

“I got you something,” Jay whispers as his arms cage me between his body and the door. I lean into him as I unlock my door.

There are roses on every flat surface of my small apartment. Thick bundles with silky ribbons tying them together.

“You broke into my place,” I laugh.

Jay’s arms come around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. His head tilts against mine. “Yeah well, you weren’t talking to me so I had to figure something out,”

I pick up a vase that sits on my coffee table. Jay moves with me, watching me bring the flowers to my face. I run my fingers over the silky petals.

“They’re so pretty, but you didn’t have to,” I tell him setting my vase down.

Jay pulls me tight against his body. I feel good here. It’s still weird that I know what he feels like, but it’s right. We aren’t meant to be anything other than what we are in this moment.

“I did, Y/n. I wanted to. I know that I hurt your feelings. I just want you to know that I hear you. I need to chill out, and I’m sorry,” he drops his arms but spins my body so that I’m facing him.

He leans in, his nose brushing against mine. He’s so close, his warm breath washes over my mouth. I’m dying to eliminate the space between us, but that’s not the adult thing to do. Ideally, we come to an agreement that he’ll no longer be an asshole, and I’ll continue to give him shit about everything. It’s how we work. It’s how it’s always been. He doesn’t get to change the rules just because I’ve given up my panties. Still, I miss his mouth enough to not care even for just a second. I lean in first, pressing my lips against his. His mouth opens immediately, welcoming my tongue against his bottom lip. He pulls back after only a few seconds, his lips hot pink and glistening.

“I’m a dickhead,” Jay says against my mouth. His lips drag against my skin as I pull my fingers through his hair.

“You’re right,” I sigh as his lips move to the corner of mine before peppering down to my neck. “You can make it up to me,”

I feel him smile against my skin. “What can I do? Whatever you want is yours,” he tells me.

I try to focus on one train of thought. One favor I can cash in, but there’s a fury of scenarios flashing through my head, giving me too many options. His head between my thighs, tattooed hands wrapped around them, his chest against mine, my legs wrapped around his waist.

I pull away from him, grabbing his hand I lead him toward my bedroom. His fingers intertwined with mine as he walks behind me.

I stop in the middle of my room. He watches me pull my clothes off slowly. His eyes roam every piece of skin that’s revealed. He lingers on my chest, my hips and right below. I climb onto my bed and cross my legs out in front of me.

“I want a striptease,” I smile at him.

His head drops down to his chest, his shoulders shaking with laughter. When he looks up, there’s that wide smile that I think about all day, gums and all. He really is beautiful. He’d kill me if he knew I think he’s beautiful above anything else. But he really is. He licks his lips before his face goes serious.

“We doing this no music?”

“Just you baby,” I say trying not to smile.

He nods at himself before shaking out his limbs like he’s gearing up for a fight. His hips start to move first, swiveling in a circle. He rolls his body, pulling off his T-shirt at the same time. I’m torn between swooning and laughing hysterically. His lips move like he’s mouthing a song that’s playing in his head, his brows wrinkling in concentration. Jay swings the shirt in the air before slinging it my way.

I can’t help the cackle that escapes my lips as it lands on my face. I move it aside to see he’s still concentrating on his dance. His hips shimmy out of his joggers and fall to the floor leaving him in his dark boxers.

“Ok, Ok,” I laugh as his thumb hooks into the waistline of the underwear.

“Did I do good?” He smiles at me.

“Yeah, you did good. Come,” I beckon him to climb on my bed. I’ve come to like him in my bed better than his. We seem average here in my apartment, and I prefer that more than anything else. Here in the comfort of my worn in springs and curtains that blocked any semblance of light just how I like it, he’s irrevocably mine. My bed’s smaller, my air a little drier, there’s a hump in my mattress, still, it’s home with Jay.

I watch him climb the short distance, his muscles flexing. He holds his body above mine, his face so close I can see the faint hairs on his upper lip that he’ll shave in the morning. His forehead drops to my shoulder.

“I missed you,” he says. I’ve seen him this morning and every night beforehand but I understand him. There’s a contented comfortability we’d developed a long time ago. He’s not always here, but I feel him like he is. I know that he is a phone call away and that’s enough. Today felt like eggshells constantly chipping away more and more every time I thought about texting him.

I trace my fingers over his high cheekbones. The way he’s looking at me, I can’t help but want to fall in love with him all over again from start to finish. The way I feel about him, the way we feel about each other, it’s expansive, making my chest feel so wide. I think about all the things we’ve done together, all the times we’d skipped classes back home just so we could go to his tournaments. We have always been a little bit together with the way we are, testing the fragile boundaries of our relationship.

“Thanks for the roses,”I say, kissing his cheek. He turns his head, taking my mouth. His tongue moves against mine so softly that I melt against him. He pulls away leaning his forehead against mine.

“No more fighting,” he tells me.

“We weren’t fighting,” I lie.

Jay shakes his head smiling at me.

“We’re going to always get into it, Jay. We just need to know where it stops,”

He raises an eyebrow at me. I already know what he’s going to say. “This morning, you didn’t want to see me, understandably. What changed,”

“Someone asked me to pass on her number to you today. I might have gotten jealous,”

“You? Jealous? After all the shit you gave me,”

“It wasn’t drag you out the club jealous, Jay. It was, you’re mine and I’m a hundred and ten percent sure she’d still try to fuck you if given the chance,”

“And that made you not mad at me anymore?” He guesses.

“No, it made me understand that the dynamic of our relationship is not the same anymore. There are boundaries and rules people abide by in relationships. And just because we’ve known each other forever doesn’t mean we’re exempt from these expectations,”

I watch Jay’s eyes flick to my lips before he decides to actually kiss me. He’s so soft and sweet, a side of him I’m not quite used to. Of course, he ruins it a second later.

“Sometimes, y/n, you just talk so much and I have no idea what you’re talking about,”

I roll my eyes and fall onto my pillow. He’s close, using his arms to hover over my body.

“You are such an asshole,” I laugh at him. “You’re an asshole and you don’t give a shit either,”

Jay laughs too before dipping his head and kissing the corner of my mouth. “I’m kidding. I get it, and you’re right. The way I acted, it won’t happen again,”

“Ok, cool. Now that that’s out the way, I want one more thing tonight,”

He raises an eyebrow. “What,”

I lean in close to him. “I want you to fuck me like you did last night,”

He drops his head against my shoulder. “You really are my fucking dream come true,” he laughs slightly.

I feel his words deep in my bones. I want to be his dream come true. I want to be everything he wants. I hope I am, because I know for sure he’s the one I’m supposed to be with. His mouth moving on my shoulder brings goosebumps to my bare skin.

When he pulls back, he looks deathly serious. His eyes darken, the set of his jaw harden. He’s so fucking hot, I want to burn this image of him in my head. I know for a fact I’ve never been more attracted to another person in my life.

“Lay on your stomach, Y/n. Put that ass in the air,”

I do as I’m told. We separate so I can lie with my chest pressed into my mattress, my knees drawn up so that my bare behind sticks up in the cool air. I can feel his eyes on me. I feel exposed. Like he’s seeing too much of me. His hand smooths over my back, up so that his fingers curl around my neck. His hips press against me. The only thing separating us is the thin cloth of his boxers.

I move my hips, grinding against the bulge that presses exactly where I need him to be. I feel him start to harden against me. I’m pulsing, salivating, every nerve in my body is lit up ready for whatever he’s going to give to me. He feels perfect and he’s not even inside me yet.

“Don’t wait,” I say, the side of my face pressed into my pillow. “I want you now,”

The fingers on my neck reach round teasing my lips.

“Open,” he instructs.

He sets two fingers against my tongue. When he draws I close my lips around them, my tongue swirling. He releases a sigh, pulling them free.

He pushes the two fingers against my entrance, before pulling back and entering me again. His fingers move against me so slowly that I can feel him everywhere. He’s insanely good at what he does, pulling sound from my lips in deep moans.

He bends over me, his lips coming against my shoulder. His fingers continue to work, his free arm comes around me to hold me up. My knees start to give out but he has me, pulling me tight against his chest.

“Come on baby,” he says against my skin. I don’t want to cum yet; not without him inside me.

“Not without you,” I say, my voice shaky.

His hand moves against me faster. He’s not giving me a choice. His knuckles touch my clit with each flick of his wrist and I’m falling fast. My breath comes out rough as my knees finally decide they can’t take it anymore. I collapse onto my stomach, shuddering around him.

“Jay, please,”

“What do you want, Y/n,”

“You,” I beg. I feel him move behind me. He reaches beside me to pull out a foil Square from my night table.

Without warning, he falls into me, quick and hard. His hips move against mine so roughly that I’m moving up my mattress. He steadies me with hands gripping my ass, kneading my flesh with his hands. Without warning, his hand comes down hard against my skin. The sound is followed by my moans into the pillow.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he says through clenched teeth.

He doesn’t feel close enough. I reach back, searching for his hand. I pull it so that his body covers mine. Our skin is slippery, flushed like we’re running miles. He feels so good I don’t think I can last any longer than the next few seconds.

“Oh fuck,” I say as I feel myself start to cum again. I shake around him. He continues to move his hips roughly against me. The arm I’ve pulled around me holds my chest like he’s holding himself down to earth with me.

He squeezes at my flesh, his fingertips hard against my skin. His mouth touches my shoulder and neck every few seconds. He makes rough grunts like he’s lost somewhere. I’m spent, ready to drop down on to my bed but he holds me still.

“Shit,” he calls out. He falls on me, his chest moving rapidly against my back.

We lay still for minutes, catching our breaths. Jay’s fingers smooth my hair out of my face. He reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers while we lay together.

He gets up too soon. He disposes of the condom and brings another hot cloth to clean me up. He climbs into bed beside me again.

My phone lights up on my table. It’s Bora. She’s sent me a screenshot of some gossip blog post.

“Shit,” I curse.

“You ok? What’s wrong?” His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his body. He sounds exhausted, his face pressed into my back.

I look at my phone one more time before handing it back to him. I can’t read the article but it’s easy to pick my name out in among the symbols. Right below it, a blurry photo of Jay and I outside of the club pressed tightly together. No one can see my face, but it’s obvious Jay had his tongue down someone’s throat, and I’m guessing it’s finally confirmed to be me.

“Jay Park’s new girlfriend Y/n, sources say the two have only been seeing each other for a few weeks but are already in a serious relationship. The couple were first seen at Henz nightclub this past weekend,”

Jay sits up and hands the phone back to me.

“I mean, I’m not surprised,” I sigh looking up at my ceiling.

“This can be from anybody. We haven’t kept it from any of our friends,”

“No, no this was too quick. I know who this came from. I met with Elise earlier today, she has friends on all of these online blogs,”

“I thought you guys were friends,”

I shrug. “Not really. She likes you. Or rather she wants to fuck you. Regardless, I told her it’s not going to happen,”

“And she leaked information because she’s mad?” He asks. “What is she, fifteen?”

I roll my eyes and pull him to lay again. His arms come around me, pulling me against his chest. I’m not worried. I refuse to let anything she does affect me and my life. So what if people know I’m dating Jay. We’ve been seen more than once together at parties, though even then some people assumed. Even if it’s confirmed, it doesn’t affect anything. We won’t let it.

“She’ll get over it,” I say.

“If you don’t have a problem, then neither do I,” Jay tells me. “But you’ll let me know if it becomes an issue, ok baby?”

I kiss his neck and nod in agreement. I’m not too worried. I’m annoyed but there’s hardly any damage done.

“Let’s order food,” he suggests.

“You read my mind. You go ahead and wake me when it gets here,”

“All you do is sleep,” he scoffs. I watch him stand and stretch. He’s so lean, and muscular, and pretty. And mine. I smile at myself. If I wanted to I know I could have him back inside me within seconds. At some point, I have to draw a line no matter how difficult it is to force myself to live outside of fucking my hot man every minute.

“I’m worn out. Blame yourself,” I say wrapping my arms around his abandoned pillow.

He pulls his boxers on. “Oh, you thought we was done? You not getting any more sleep for the night. Rest up, baby,”

Anticipating rolls in my stomach but I roll my eyes at him pretending that I’m not eager to have him on top of me.

“Feed me first,” I tell him.

His lips pull into a devastating smirk, his eyebrow raises. “I’ll definitely feed you something,”

He leaves me watching him, my appetite for food replace with an appetite for his skin. He thinks he’s so slick. I have tons of tricks that I haven’t shown him yet and I think it’s time to bring them out.

#jay park #aomg #h1ghrmusic #jay park imagine #RTF mini #rtf 5

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