#I’ve tried asking politely I’ve tried explaining and teaching and I’ve tried screaming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

p---ink · 3 years

Text

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though.

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems.

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self)

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it.

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.”

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.”

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared.

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.”

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker, after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath.

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her.

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present.

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered.

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been.

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words.

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep.

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat.

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him.

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case.

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her. “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels, and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious.

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain.

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car.

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat.

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable.

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way.

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification.

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl.

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question.

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted.

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long.

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt.

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained.

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips.

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing.

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all.

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield.

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her.

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?”

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him.

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one.

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous.

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked.

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment.

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.”

“Say please.” He teased.

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied.

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him.

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin.

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans.

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties.

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat.

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member.

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down.

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her.

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue.

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there.

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin.

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him. She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips.

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her.

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky.

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her.

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core.

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried.

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest, becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better.

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm.

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her.

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her.

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny.

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence.

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue.

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined.

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window.

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure.

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning.

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried.

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button.

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers.

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say.

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone.

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip.

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life.

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair.

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed.

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake.

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came.

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted.

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat.

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high.

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly. “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.”

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them.

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin.

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare.

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her.

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?” She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop.

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.”

A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error.

#peter parker x reader #Peter Parker smut #Peter Parker x black!reader #black!reader #Peter Parker fluff #spiderman x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagines #spiderman #Peter parker #black reader #smut #dark!peter x reader

456 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 3 years

Text

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to catch me naked.”

***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

***

On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

***

The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor. The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

#taeyong smut #neosmutsongs #neosmutcollective #nct smut #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct fluff #taeyong fluff #dance au

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

Text

Broken Heart Part 4–Troy Bolton

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Reader's POV

It's been three years since I told Troy how I felt and he turned me down. After that awful day, I couldn't face him. I spent the rest of the school year with my head down.

I went to class, played the piano in rehearsal, and then went right home. I spent my lunches in the theater, practicing the different pieces. Kelsie and Ryan tried to get me to hang out after school but I politely told them no.

I shut down. I wasn't happy. And nothing my friends tried to do to cheer me up worked.

After high school, I got a full-ride scholarship to Julliard for piano. I'm a junior and I've started looking for jobs after graduation. Over Spring Break, I talked to Ms. Darbus about being hired on as the music teacher and helping the theater department at East High.

After talking with Ms. Darbus, I ran a few errands for my mom. I was walking down the street when I heard someone say my name.

"Y/N?"

I turned around, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw Troy at the end of the sidewalk. He smiled as he lifted his hand and hesitantly waved. I bit my lip, waving back. He must have taken that as a good sign because he walked over to me.

"It's nice to see you," he smiled.

"You too," I said under my breath. It was very clear that there was an awkward tension between us.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Good. . . You?"

"I'm good," he chuckled. "How's Julliard?"

"It's been really great," I said, slightly relaxing a little more. "I actually just talked to Ms. Darbus about working at East High after I graduate."

"Really?" He asked. "That's amazing, Y/N. Would you take her job?"

"No," I said, smiling slightly. "I would help her with the music for the show but would mainly teach choir. I also might play the piano for the orchestra and band."

"That's incredible," Troy smiled. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks," I said, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Silence fell between us, neither one of us knowing what to say. I looked away from him but could feel him watching me.

"I miss you," he whispered. I looked up at him and started nervously chewing on my bottom lip.

"What?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"I miss you, Y/N," he repeated. "So much."

"Troy," I stuttered.

"Can we go get coffee?" He asked. "I'd really like to catch up."

* * * * *

After we ordered and got our drinks, Troy didn't head to a table. Instead, he headed outside. I smiled when I noticed we were heading towards our park and our favorite bench. That smile quickly went away as we sat down.

Neither one of us said anything as we people watched. Sitting next to him on our bench weighed very heavily on me. I wanted to scream, cry, demand an explanation, and run away.

"I broke up with Gabriella."

My head shot up, my eyes wide when he blurted that out. "Because of me?" I asked under my breath.

"No," he quickly said. "Well, sorta."

He laughed awkwardly as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. He sighed when he saw the look on my face.

"Gabriella thinks we broke up because of distance," he mumbled. He cleared his throat as he continued to explain. "But actually, I broke up with her because I couldn't stop thinking about your confession senior year. In fact, I've spent the last three years going over everything. I mean everything. I thought about when we met. I thought about our friendship. I thought about when things could've changed for you. I thought about whether things changed for me."

"Troy," I said, his name getting caught in my throat.

He looked away from me, watching as an older couple walked by. Without looking at me, he said under his breath, "I spent the last three years trying to get the nerve up to call you."

"And what would you have told me if you'd gotten the nerve?"

Troy looked up at me, something in his eyes changing. He slowly reached over and grabbed my hand gently, like he was waiting for me to pull away.

"I would've told you that letting you go senior year was the dumbest mistake I've ever made," he said with a small smile. "Like dumber than jumping into an audition with Gabriella."

He waited for me to laugh, but I didn't. I cleared my throat as I sat back, pulling my hand out of his. His smile faltered when I pulled away but only for a second.

"Y/N, the thing is. . . When you. . . I wasn't. . . It's not that I didn't. . ."

I waited patiently as he struggled to find the right words. There was a second when we just stared into each other's eyes. I broke the staring contest and looked down at my untouched latte.

"I think I'm in love with you."

I looked up at him and immediately tried to study him. Part of me wanted to believe him, but the other part of me held back.

"You think?" I whispered. "That's not. . ."

"I know that doesn't sound very reassuring," he sighed. "But I have spent the last three years thinking about you. I've been thinking about us and everything we've been through together. If you look at us from an outside perspective, I was a jock who protected his musical best friend. Until. . ."

He looked away from me, but I caught a glimpse of his regret. He continued without looking at me.

"Until I met someone who took my attention away from you. I never wanted. . . I never meant for her to replace you, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

When his voice broke, I reached over and grabbed his hand. He looked up at me, hope in his eyes as I intertwined our fingers.

"The whole year Gabriella and I did long-distance, I found myself wanting to talk to you more than her," he said without looking away from me. "I found myself thinking about you more than I thought about her. I realized that you were who I wanted in my life, not her. You were the one I wanted by my side. You were the one I loved."

My eyes filled with tears. Troy smiled as he reached up and caught a tear with his thumb.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he whispered, his hand still holding my face.

"I didn't mean to cry," I whispered back. "I'm just a little confused."

"Well, maybe this can clear it up for you."

I held my breath as he leaned in, still holding my cheek. I gasped when his lips pressed delicately to mine. Troy slowly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"I know I'm in love with you," he corrected his earlier statement. He leaned back, finally dropping his hand as he whispered, "I know I don't deserve a chance with you. I know I messed up senior year. I know I don't deserve you. . ."

I cut him off by grabbing his face and pressing my lips to his. I felt him smile into the kiss as our lips moved in sync. The tears continued to stream down my cheeks as we kissed.

I have wanted to kiss Troy since freshman year. Finally being able to show him how I felt was unlike any feeling I've ever had. He let out a small laugh as he broke the kiss.

"I love you, Y/N," he said, slightly out of breath from the kiss. "I can't live without you. Please tell me I didn't lose you."

"You didn't," I whispered.

"Really?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly. I reached up and caught a small tear that had escaped.

"I love you, Troy," I said, my voice breaking. "I never stopped."

He smiled before quickly pressing his lips back to mine. I giggled into the kiss when I heard two coffee cups falling. We broke the kiss and looked over at our cups now on the sidewalk.

"I think we spilled our coffees," Troy joked. I laughed as I turned towards him.

"That was your fault," I whispered. "You owe me another one."

"How about I owe you something better?"

"Better?" I stuttered.

"A date."

#troy bolton #troy bolton imagines #high school musical #zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader

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mammonsvulva · 3 years

Note

Hi there! I just discovered your page and i loved the bachata headcannon!

On that same line, can you do a female latina headcannon? Like, more specifically, Colombian, you know, an MC that's like normally fluent in english but when mad she just burst on angry spanish screaming session with latin curses and a strong accent and also just getting really mad if deemed as Mexican by default? I'd love that! Thank youuuu (also feel free to ignored this if it's not of your fancy)

I hope you have a great day!

Of course! I really hope you like it! :)

(I tried to incorporate things some of my relatives say as Colombians please don’t hate me🥲)

The Brothers + Datables and a Latina MC with Colombian Habits

Lucifer❤️

Lucifer has always been amused by the boldness MC portrayed, that is until Mammon pissed her off

MC actually f*cking explodes, calling Mammon “culicagao” (like a bratty kid) and a bunch of profanities out of rage

Actually leaves Lucifer surprised, who could she hate so much that she’d put a curse on them?

Is actually kind of scared to speak up after she went silent, kinda just stares at her like “what the fuck do I do”

“I’ve told Mammon A THOUSAND TIMES. IM NOT F*CKING MEXICAN”

(Oooohh Mammons gonna get his ASS WHOOPED)

“MAAAAAAMMMMOOOOONNN????”

Mammon💛

Could learn a thing or two from MC, had some strong clap backs

Is counting his money when OUT OF NOWHERE MC just starts incanting a literal curse

Literally has his quaking in his boots dude, like he’s genuinely terrified

He can’t keep up with anything she’s saying and feels like his time to die has come

Doesn’t say A WORD when she calms down, jumps when she starts apologizing for reacting like that

“W-w-what happened? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )”

“I LOST 10 GRAND IN BLACK JACK! ITS FUCKING RIGGED!”

Is genuinely more cautious for a while, kind of traumatized him

Mammon thought it’d be a great Idea to take her to meet one of his witches, MC already didn’t like her but listen to this

First thing the witch said was “Aren’t you that Mexican transfer student or whatever?”

(‘Oooh Ms. Girl you fucked up’)

Leviathan💙

Wishes he could have MCs confidence, ‘how does she respond like that 0•0’

He’s reading Manga while MC just lost on the same level for the 5th time

Accidentally shifts to his demon for he got so scared

Has to whip his tail up and grab the controller before she could slam it, genuinely terrified for his well being

Once she calms down she goes to give him a hug, to help with her frustration

*PANICS* “I-I can h-help you with that level, if y-you want..”

MC watches as he beats it with ease and heaves a sigh of relief, literally such a stupid game

Gets just as offended as MC when somebody said “I went to Mexico on vacation once, what was it like growing up there?”

Will let her handle it and he’ll be her Moral Support <3

Satan💚

Loved that MC was always ready, he was like that too being the Avatar of Wrath

Is genuinely amused when MC burst out swearing because she got a bad grade, he actually thought it was hilarious

Thinks of like a game to keep up with everything she’s shouting, makes her more upset

“What the fuck are you laughing at juemadre de la-“

“You’re Hot when you’re mad, Did you know that?”

Makes her go silent immediately, why is he like this, making people wanna act up on DIAVOLO

When they’re BOTH mad at something it’s like a f*cking BOMB RAID bro

They both just keep adding more, even when Satans speaking a Demon Dialect and MC is speaking Spanish LMAOO

When an arrogant soul decides to purposely mislabel MC as Mexican, the fool needs to count his seconds with MC and Satan both getting on his ass

Asmodeus💞

Has always liked the spunk MC had, it entertained him to watch her bicker with his brothers

Surprised, but not happy AT ALL with the fact that MC could blow up like that

Gets on MC for lashing out, “MC! THIS IS TERRIBLE FOR YOUR SKIN, DO YOU WANT WRINKLES?”

Gets MC to tell him what made her loose her cool like that

“That stupid b*tch from class posted saying “That Mexican transfer student isn’t pretty enough to be this annoying”

Almost explodes as bad as MC did

“MS. GIRL SHE SAID WHAT? Lemme hop on Devilgram and end her career real quick💖”

Devilgram post- Asmodeus 19:34: “Aw sweetie, Not everybody can be as gorgeous as MC and muah, but don’t go trying to drag her in the dirt with you. Filthy🥱”

No mercy on the haters💔

Beelzebub🧡

Like Asmo, found it entertaining to see MC bicker with his brothers every now and then

MC just couldn’t keep calm anymore when she messed up the recipe she was working on AGAIN

Beel becomes more concerned than scared, ‘Is she ok? :(‘

Gets up to hug MC, hoping it’ll help calm her down a bit

She explains that she kept ruining the dessert no matter how hard she tried

“MC, it’s ok to do it wrong, because it helps you learn how to do it right :)”

She’s tried again, except this time with Beel to help her :)

Gets upset when someone defaults MC as Mexican, knowing how much she hates it

He may be a teddy bear but man don’t f*ck with his Chef

Belphegor💜

Thought MC was amusing with the way she made sure everyone knew she wouldn’t take any BS

MC just happened to stub her toe while Belphie was sleeping, and now he’s awake, and heated

“What the f*ck happened?”

Is actually more concerned than upset, she wouldn’t lash out like that for no reason

When MC explains that a picture of her in the RAD Catalog still ended up being there even though she made it clear she was against it

“Oh, MC- you look good in every photo, I wouldn’t be upset about it”

Assures her it’s not a big deal and then invites her to come take a nap with him

Will mean mug the f*ck out of anyone who assumes MC is Mexican, because he finds extremely disrespectful (as it is)

Might commit homicide if they keep saying Mexican but I ain’t no snitch

Diavolo♥️

At first took MC as disrespectful, but learned it was only when she felt she was being disrespected (then by all means, go off)

Surprisingly, Diavolo speaks Spanish, but he still kind of struggles to keep up

He’s just laughing the whole time too, like MC isn’t furious

Later, MC calmly explains just some random student pissed her off again

“Who is this student you say? Do I need to have a chat with them as the Demon Lord of The Devildom? :)?”

Dia actually admires how passionate MC is about her home country, agrees that it’s disrespectful to mislabel someone

Because he can, Dia starts to learn about Colombian culture and throwing parties just for MC

Starts saying shit like “politas pa la rumba!” (I’ll buy beers for everyone¿) just to sound cool to MC

Barbatos💟

Barb doesn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful but so hostile sometimes, overall doesn’t really mind though

Is surprised that such things could conde from MC, kind of chuckles thinking about it

He figured he should try and step in to calm the situation

“Is there anything I can do to ease you, MC?”

It ended up being that Diavolo was completely ignoring her and brushing her aside when he never did that with Solomon

Asks if she’d like him to talk to Dia about it, since he may approach it better than she will

Barb will quietly correct anybody who believes her to be Mexican, just so MC won’t have to deal with their arrogance herself

Takes his free time and makes dishes from Colombia, or Colombian themed cookies or cupcakes to make MC happy :)

Simeon🤍

Is trying to teach MC better ways to respond to idiots, more Angelic ways

When MC blows up for the first time in front of him, the literal shock she sent him into omfg

*GASP* “MC?! WHY ARE YOU SAYING SUCH VILE THINGS?”

Like, HELLOOO? SHE DARES TO SAY SUCH THINGS IN AN ANGELS PRESENCE?

Helps to calm her down after showing distaste for her words

“You’re lips are to beautiful to speak such sinful things”

Will go on to give MC a long but kind lecture about why exploding like that is bad for her Aura and whatever

Will politely make it known that someone was wrong for assuming MC is Mexican, does get a bit irritated though

He now goes up to MC when she’s getting upset, to remind her to breathe and comfort her with a deep hug :)

“See? It’s ok MC~ just breathe in and out for me, ok? :)”

Solomon⚛️

Will piss MC off on purpose just to see her pop off, he LOVES it

Literally her #1 cheerleader when she blows up, adding on to what she’s upset about

“Period MC” “No way she said that! What a fugly b*tch” “Right, she’s just a hater”

Hypes her up all the time, even when she’s obviously in the wrong

Sol needs ALL the tea, pulls up like “who we talking shit about?”

Will get on someone’s ass just because, now think about when someone mislabels MC😳💥

Gives MC a sense of pride hearing him say “Cagué” when he messes up a potion, he obviously picked that up from her

Luke⛅️

Gets kinda (really) scared when MC becomes a little aggressive

Actually bursts out crying because he was scared MC was mas at him

MC traumatized this kid so bad, he ran to Simeon like he was getting chased be some demons

“M-m-mom is really m-mad and *sobs* I’m s-scared *sobs more*”

MC IMMEDIATELY feels super bad because she scared away his soul

Simeon, having talked to her about it already, mouthed “Apologize now.” In a very not polite manner, kinda scaring MC too🚫🧢

Has MC apologizing PROFUSELY, trying to explain it wasn’t Luke’s fault

Once he calms down, they go to bake cookies like usual, except this time he’s sniffing the whole time :( 💔

I really hope this fit what you asked for :( </3

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Step one

Hoo boy, this one is potentially dark as fuck, so remember that this is entirely fantasy. Do not think this is healthy or copy anything here.

Cw: heavy heavy nsfw. Drugging, b+e, somnophilia, Illumi gets possessive lowkey

previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi used the month or so you were closed off and mourning to try and dig up as much intimate info on you as he could, from childhood fears to how many times you've had sex. With this knowledge added to his collection, the last thing he needed to do was set up a cover story, than introduce himself. If this fails, she can be killed, or trained He told himself as he read through your social media on his laptop, ignoring a nagging sense of dread he hadn't felt since his first solo kill as a child.

The cover story was easy enough, murdering the people across the street from your home was boringly simple, setting them up to die of heart attacks and a break in, waiting out the investigation, nothing new to the assassin. By the time things had cleared up there, you were beginning to cheer up anyway, which was good, it'd be easier for Illumi to court you if you weren't verging into suicidal territory. Finally, the day came when he moved into the home, much to the teary refusal of his mother. "I'm not leaving permanently," Illumi assured her the day he moved out, taking only a duffel bag of clothing with him, the issue was that his mother was holding him in a hug and refusing to let go. "You were so excited for me to be courting a woman, you can't sob and cling to me when I need to move out to properly 'woo' her." His voice was level and uninterested, as always, though on the inside he did feel a bit of reluctance at leaving, which was why he guessed he didn't use a lot of force to remove his mother's iron grip. "I know, but why can't you go about the process from home?" she blubbered, Illumi's father standing a bit behind her sighing at her antics, "To build up proper propinquity I need to be near her a lot, I cannot do that from here while also doing my work. Besides, it is relatively frowned upon for a 24 year old to still be living with their parents, so I need to have my own place for...the later portion." Sadly, even logic didn't calm Kikyo down, so Silva was forced to pry her from Illumi and simply wished the long haired assassin well as the man left. To atone for the sin of leaving the Zoldyck estate, Illumi was required to call his mother at least once a day, but other than that, he was free to live across the street from you when he wasn't working. This set up proved to be very useful, as it allowed him to linger on the street without suspicion, watch you from his windows, and it gave him more opportunities to run into you 'organically', despite having your meager outing schedule memorized already, and more. The day he moved in properly, Illumi was helping a trio of butlers move furniture in, trying to seem as normal as possible since he could see you sitting on your porch, getting some fresh air while also watching your new neighbor curiously. It's good to see her out at least, vitamin D is necessary for good health. he thought as he moved the last bit of strategically aged furniture into the home, letting the butlers return home after that. If he was to blend in, he'd have to slum it for a while after all. Though, he could put up with that as long as you stayed as friendly as you were the first night he was there. It was pretty late, the dark hours cooling the relatively warm air of the late spring day when he heard a knock at the door, but when he opened, there you were, your (h/l), (h/c) hair pulled away from your face, in a (f/c) jacket and some of your nicer casual clothes, "Hello! I'm sorry if you were asleep or anything, but I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" you chirped, your kind smile making something weird happen to his heart, but he hid that, not wanting to scare you by saying he was having a heart attack, "Ah, hello miss. No, I was just trying to cook some dinner, not to worry." he assured, watching you relax a bit before tilting his head, "I'm sorry if this is curt, but have we met?" he asked, your (e/c) eyes shining with confusion for a moment before realization washed that away, "Oh! you're the man I bumped into at that party!" he mimicked your stunned reaction, chatting a bit before you heard angry sizzling from his kitchen, the sound earning a concerned look from you. "Um?? Should you step outside?" you suggested, and when he looked in your eyes again, he saw that undeserved concern in those captivating orbs. That weird feeling returned in response, but Illumi repressed it once again, "No, I believe that's just my food," he said nonchalantly, watching your expression change to panic, it was so intriguing to see how expressive you were compared to his family, "Maybe you should go check on it??" you urged gently, the panicked look in your eyes compelling the empathy-less assassin to do as you said, so he nodded simply and returned to the pot of boiling water that was leaking with angry bubbles splashing water onto the burner. He simply turned the stove off and returned to you once the water had settled again. You were still there, nervously peeking in to try and check on him he assumed. "Why didn't you come in?" He asked, making you jump, "I-I wasn't invited, it's rude to just walk in." you pointed out, and he mentally kicked himself for forgetting that fact briefly. Though he verbally just sighed in defeat, running a hand through his long, silky hair. "Actually, would it be uncouth of me to maybe ask if you would help me with something?" He asked, and when you shook your head he reluctantly continued, "You see, my family is rather well off, so I've...never learned to cook. Would you maybe teach me how to make the food?" He asked, and he liked to think it was the power of his natural charm that made you agree, not the pitiful mask of helplessness he put on. Either way though, you were now inside of his new home. Could this be considered a date? Illumi mused as he followed your instructions to bring the water to a boil again and put the store-bought noodles into the rolling liquid, People cook together as a date, so this should count as a date. He decided after a moment of watching you prepare food, following your orders until the two of you had managed to make a rather respectable looking dinner. He cemented this occassion's 'date' status by handing you a plate, "It's fair that since you helped make it, you eat some of it with me." he pointed out when you went to refuse his offering. After that, the two of you sat in his living room in silence, neither making the first move to speak. For Illumi, the silence was comfortable, it gave him time to judge the weird thing that had happened with his insides. He wasn't dead, and the warm, fluttery sensation was fading, so it didn't seem to be fatal. I should get the family doctor to check me over. he decided as he ate, finally glancing over at you while you sat on the opposite end of the couch. Judging by the tension in your limbs and how you radiated discomfort, you were about to bolt like a scared rabbit. That's not good...

"so." He hummed, hoping to ease your anxiety with some conversation, plus it'd give him a chance to dig into you, "why were you at that party?" There was a stretch of silence, your mood falling again for a moment, but than you seemed to put on a fake smile for him, how sweet. "I'm a bit shy, so my friend decided to try and hook me up with a man she worked with." you explained, shrugging it off, "He ended up ditching me for some friends when we got there, so I didn't ask for a second date." Well of course your date went badly, you're supposed to be with me, not some stranger. a dark part of him thought, than stopped. What brought that up? I haven't even decided if she's really worth 'dating'. He reminded himself, but that possessive thought still lingered a bit more than he would've liked. However, that issue was for later, right now he wanted to see just how much information he could get you to willingly tell him. "So, are you looking for a partner?" he asked, and he just caught a bit of a flustered epression on your (s/c) face at his question. He was beginning to enjoy seeing such an expression. "R-right now? Um..not actively, b-but I'm not against a relationship." you said, not looking at him as you spoke, your body language screaming how flustered you were. After that, the two of you simply chatted, Illumi enjoying when you fully relaxed and opened up a bit more, but what felt like only a short time later, you were thanking him for the food and leaving for your own home. The tall man was polite back, but for the third time that night, his torso felt odd inside. He wanted to ask you to stay, maybe offer you a drink and slip a sedative into it, that way you'd stay the night, but no, he refrained from stopping you. If you drug her, she'll wake up tomorrow and be terrified of you. Maybe even call the cops. He told himself as he shut his door behind you. However, the thoughts were already there, making him groan. What is going on with me?! I'm losing control of myself so easily now. he thought, rubbing his face as if that would wipe away the bubbling waves of dark lust that were once again flooding his mind with images of you naked beneath him, calling out his name, mixing with the urge to control that he usually kept a close eye on. This is absolutely pathetic. She's not even that attractive! He chided himself, glaring down at the growing bulge in his pants as if it were to blame for his urges. Which, to a point was true, but either way it still twitched, demanding to be tended to. However, he refused to masturbate again. His sperm was precious, and while he could produce quite enough to impregnate a woman despite such a shameful act, he didn't like wasting his DNA. So, for a bit, he tried to cook up ways to relieve himself, unable to shake the lustful thoughts of you. Could he wait until tomorrow and lure you over again? No, that'd leave a horrid impression of him in your mind. Maybe he could sneak some aphrodisiacs into your food and than offer to help? No, that'd take too long, and he didn't know how long he could control his lust. Around eleven or so, Illumi finally came up with a satisfactory method. So, he turned his lights off and slipped out into the cool night to slither across the street and into your dark home. It was late enough that he knew you were asleep, so he was free to make his way in and towards your bedroom, What he wasn't expecting though, was to find you sleeping on your couch, your blanket fallen to the floor, revealing your pajamas to him. The sight only seemed to throw gasoline on the fire of neglected needs within him. "now this is simply inappropriate," he breathed, shaking his head at your baggy t-shirt and (random color) panties, "(y/n), you should know better. Such outfits should be saved for your husband." He kept his voice low, making sure not to wake you as he chided you and his lightless eyes zeroed in on the bit of panty he could see with the way your shirt was ridden up ever so slightly. teasingly. He sighed, this would make his plan easier anyway. So, he just pulled out a needle of sedative and carefully moved you so that he could get access to your neck without waking you, sticking the needle in and injecting you with the fast acting drug. Within a few moments you were certain to stir for nothing less than a natural disaster, so he was free to do whatever he wished. The assassin's body burned with lust, his cock throbbing within his pants while he moved your thighs apart, revealing more of your panties. You weren't much to look at, he'd seen prettier women, but the feeling of your perfectly malleable thigh in his hand, seeing you so complacent and welcoming for him while his hormones were so out of control, you could've passed as a goddess in that moment. He wasted no time in removing your underwear, leaving your shirt and bra on so it'd be less work afterwards, revealing your most intimate parts to him with no arguments. It gave him such a rush to see you so obediently laying on your back, your legs apart and welcoming. your vulnerability was like a form of foreplay for him, but when he ran a slender finger up your slit and realized just how dry you were, it ruined his fantasy. Though, not enough to deter him. Instead of stopping, Illumi simply pushed your shirt up with your bra, using one hand to massage your breast while he kissed down your sternum and up the soft mound of flesh. His free hand slipped between the two of you, rubbing slow circles around your clit until breathy whines and moans slipped from your lips. Carefully, he teased your nipple between his fingers, simultaneously moving up to your throat until he found the spot that made you gasp and whine in your sleep again. The only downside was despite how badly he wanted to mark you, he couldn't. He had to wait until he securely had you, until then he couldn't leave any visual evidence of his actions. So, he nibbled and kissed the spot, but didn't bite too roughly and claim you. He simply teased you, rubbing your clit, massaging your breasts or hip, and pressing hungry kisses to your unresponsive lips until he could dip his fingers down into your warmth and pull them back coated with a healthy amount of slick. With you properly aroused, he eagerly freed his throbbing dick from his pants, giving himself a few pumps before running the head up and down your slit, making you hum at the stimulation. God, how he relished how your face twitched and you groaned at the feeling of him grabbing one of your legs with one of his hands before pushing into you. God the tight warmth alone could've made him cum, but he once again held himself back. He'd gone this far, he wasn't about to squander the opportunity to indulge himself by not savoring it. No, He simply grabbed your hips once fully inside and began moving, pretty soon slapping his hips into yours roughly. He might regret being so aggressive later, when it undoubtedly left you sore, or at the very least left bruises and scratches, but right now he just enjoyed the way your pussy squeezed around him and your breasts bounced with each rough thrust into your womb. He let out a few soft noises after a bit when the waves of pleasure began fogging over his mind again. The combination of your breathy moans, your warmth squeezing around him, begging to be filled, and the possessive urge to claim you continuously driving him forward, encouraging him to go until the blinding waves of pleasure erupted and he stilled himself so that every drop of cum was safely inside of your womb. It took him longer than usual to regain his composure afterwards, but when he did he swiftly pulled out, pulling his pants up and slipping your panties back onto you before too much of his essence escaped. He grimaced at the marks of his nails on your (s/c) flesh, though hopefully they would fade before you noticed. Right now though, his main priority was to get out of your home, and leave as little evidence as possible, save for his cum. He refused to feel sorry for filling his obviously needy wife with perfectly good semen. That's right. his wife. The phrase seemed to fit perfectly.

#Illumi x reader #yandere illumi x reader #Illumi zoldyck #x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #yandere #part 6 #fanfiction #quotev #not sfw

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taeyohonic · 3 years

Text

stolen dances | chap. 9

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: alcohol consumption

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 2400

links: prev. | next [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: first the lasagne, now the chicken

“i’m really uncomfortable right now, _____”, yoongi says as the both of you get into the elevator. he’s carrying one bottle of scotch – the pricy one – while you’re balancing a cheesecake in your hands. the doors close – trapped in the small space, you turn to your therapist.

“i value your feelings”, you answer him, to which he just snorts.

“but i still have to meet your friends, who do not care for me.”

“you’re my friend – i’m just merging friend groups”, you try to protest but yoongi’s raised eyebrow chastise you wordlessly.

okay, maybe taeyhung’s written song ‘plus tae(one)’ about why he should be your plus one instead of yoongi, was a bit over the top. still, it was too funny not to play in front of your therapist und your barista.

namjoon has gladly stayed silent about the whole debacle with jungkook, so convincing yoongi to join the movie night has been easier than anticipated. the both of them do idolize the hosts a bit too much, making music themselves.

the doors open and before you can step closer to jungkook’s penthouse, yoongi pulls you back. you nearly drop the cheesecake while you watch in shock as the elevator doors close again.

“yoongs”, you start flabbergasted, “uhm… i don’t wanne… you know… sound condescending… but … normally, one leaves the elevator when arriving at the desired floor.”

the man snorts again right in your face, but takes a moment to respond.

“_____, i just wanted to make clear that i won’t be your therapist for the next two and a half hours”, he explains in a soft voice and looks at you with sincerity.

“i’m not here to analyze your relationships or judge your behavior”, yoongi continues and squeezes your hand in a silent promise.

“this is highly unprofessional – but… you are my friend. so… just, let me be your friend tonight.”

if you weren’t madly in love with the person living in this apartment building, you’d marry yoongi in the elevator.

“understood”, you nod and gift him a smile in thanks. but a question remains.

“why did you say two and a half hours?”, you question and press the button to open the doors, again.

“because that’s the average length of a movie. it’s a movie night”, he explains to you like you’re the dumb one. oh, sweet, sweet yoongi.

“we’re not watching movies, yoongs”, you snort while you pull out of the elevator. jungkook has rented out the whole floor, connecting the two penthouses. still, you have to ring a doorbell.

“but it’s called a movie night”, he repeats. “i brought my computer glasses, ____.”

is that a whine leaving his lips?

“that’s just semantics, yoongs”, you answer and maneuver the dessert to one hand only to pat his shoulder softly.

“semantics are important, ____”, he argues and points to your cheesecake.

“that’s dessert because society decided it shall be eaten after dinner. imagine if people just started to eat it as a main course!”

“that would be upsetting – good for us that we’ll have the cake as an entrée”, a voice beats you to your comeback and you flinch, not having noticed the open door nor the man starring at you with interest.

“jimin”, you breathe and feel yoongi’s back straighten at the sight of the former idol. he smiles bright as he takes the cake from your hand.

“____, lovely to see you again!” jimin doesn’t say anything to yoongi and dances more than walks into the apartment.

“uhm – you are real, right?”, you ask yoongi in a whisper and your guest just shakes his head.

“like i said, they do not care for me”, he explains and pushes you softly into the penthouse.

“but i do care for you”, you respond as you remove your shoes and take your pair of slippers as well as one for guests out of the cabinet.

before yoongi can point out how your support won’t be enough to make his night comfortable, jungkook interrupts.

“and when ____ cares, i care.”

the CEO looks as cozy as possible, wearing an oversized dark green hoodie and some worn dark jeans. his socks scream at you – they are customized pictures of you and the guys making funny faces. it was seokjin’s prank gift to all of you for last year’s christmas. they look adorable and ridiculous and you love them way too much to be mad at your grimace on his foot.

“you must be min yoongi – it’s a pleasure to meet you”, jungkook says and bows for a millisecond, like he wants to say ‘see? i’m polite!’.

yoongi looks at him knowingly and bows a bit lower than necessary.

“thank you for extending the invitation”, your plus one answers.

the hallway isn’t big enough for their combined egos and you’re happy to see taehyung skipping to you.

“HONEY!”, he yells excited and pushes past jungkook and yoongi to hug you.

“and YOONGI”, the former idol continues, leaving you whiplashed as he crushes a dumbfounded yoongi to his chest.

“so glad someone can save me from jungkook’s winning streak!”, he says gleefully and takes yoongi’s scotch while ushering the group further into the living area.

“i can’t beat jungkookie at mario kart”, you state as you see the big flatscreen connected to the playstation flashing the famous nintendo game.

“well, duh”, taehyung agrees, “but i won’t be last place anymore. think about my ego, ____. it’s as fragile as a butterfly.”

yoongi just looks between the group, not sure whom to address first.

“yoongi, hon, are you any good in the kitchen?” seokjin joins the group, wearing a pinkish apron. you guess it’s not jungkook’s.

“uhm” the man next to you is clearly overwhelmed while jimin already opens his gifted scotch to fill it into plastic cups. the group has collectively decided to forego jungkook’s expensive glasses. too many have been broken. they even make taehyung use a sippy cup when playing the playstation.

“my sauce just won’t lose the weird aftertaste. i don’t get it; i’ve done everything right… come on!”, seokjin tries again, not even introducing himself. as a famous singer he rarely has to.

a silent yoongi gets dragged to the kitchen by a still talking seokjin.

“hey! i can help as well!” you want to follow them only to see the remaining three guys look at you, unimpressed.

“what? just because of one over easy steak?”, you ask.

“jiminie got food poisoning, honey”, taehyung answers and jimin pushes a glass of scotch into your hand.

“let’s toast to meeting your uhm – friend!”, he exclaims and clings your glasses together.

“shouldn’t we wait for them to come back?”, you say – already seeing jimin ex-ing the liquid while taehyung grimaces at the taste. jungkook moves closer to you.

“jin-hyung’s recipe calls for whiskey. he’s been stealing shots for an hour. yoongi will be better off than you. my whiskey is really expensive”, your best friend explains and squeezes your shoulder in comfort. you want to argue that yoongi’s scotch is just as good, but it’ll look like you’re looking for a fight. so, you swallow down the comment as well as the shot and feel the warmth traveling down your body.

“how was your advanced training, ___?”, he asks and leads you to the sofa taehyung is already occupying.

you groan, remembering the day you just had.

“they made us do a first aid course as well, it was… so much talking, talking, talking, saving lives, talking and talking”, you explain and fall down next to taehyung.

“it must suck to work”, he acknowledges and you snort at his wording.

“hey, i work as well!”, jungkook interrupts, sulking from beside you. you coo at him and pinch his cheek.

“she saved lives – you design sport shoes.” now even you have to laugh at his betrayed expression.

“she just learned how to. she hasn’t saved anyone in the six years of teaching”, jungkook huffs.

“one could argue that i saved them by giving them education – the greatest help one can receive”, you voice only to feel a harsh push from jungkook, which makes you topple over taehyung.

“i employ over half a million people. i give them more than education, i give them money”, he sulks. with an afterthought he adds: “and i gave them music, lots and lots of amazing music. some fans even said i saved them.”

taehyung and jimin are still laughing and you feel taehyung’s shaking shoulders while pressed against him. jungkook grips your tight in mocked warning.

“you can’t win this, jungkook. honey’s job is the epiphany of honorable”, jimin states and before jungkook can list off his charity work, seokjin and yoongi enter the living room.

“dinner is ready – thanks to yoongi!”, the oldest announces and you notice the pink blush on both their faces. they have been sipping on the whiskey; good, yoongi will need some liquid courage to survive dinner.

taehyung’s body leaves you in an instance as he rushes to the table, making you crush into the soft sofa.

jungkook just strokes up your calf and you hum against the cushion.

“come on, honey!”, seokjin orders and you reluctantly pull away from jungkook’s touch.

your host moves to the table to take his seat at the head, while the others shuffle to their usual places. yoongi is giving the former idols time to sit, before deciding to take a seat next to seokjin. you really want to sit next to him, but your usual place at jungkook’s right is the only empty one.

“taehyung, move!”, you order and evade your eyes from the surprised stares of your friends. but you don’t have to look to feel the heat of jungkook’s emotions.

“huh?”, the man stalls, waiting for his friend’s approval. after a tensed silence, he gets up, leaving an empty seat across form yoongi. you don’t miss a beat and sit down, a victorious smile on your lips.

“i present to you a cheesecake with fresh-ish strawberries!”, you say way too happy. all men look at their dessert in front of them. your cake looks good, you know it.

“thanks, ____”, seokjin praises softly and begins to eat. soon, the others follow. only yoongi looks at you all like you’ve grown testicle on your foreheads.

“why are we eating the dessert first?”, he asks with caution as if he’s trying not to upset a child. while taehyung just chuckles around a spoonful of calories, jungkook answers.

“____ loves dessert too much, so we decided to start with it, making us all more sober and appreciative.”

“decided sounds like we had a choice”, jimin comments with a snort.

“like we really had an option after listening to honey’s one-hour powerpoint presentation”, seokjin agrees with his mouth full.

“the vote was secret!”, you defend yourself and see yoongi starting to dig into your cake.

“like any of us could say no to you”, taehyung snorts and cleans the plate with his tongue. it’s been only minutes. your therapist does look impressed.

“did she use her gif-making skills as well?”, yoongi chuckles, “that’s always my breaking point.”

jungkook’s eyes don’t look friendly as he answers.

“nah, that was way before i brought her a photoshop license.”

“jungkookie mentioned that you know the DJ, yoongi?”, seokjin chimes in and changes the subject rather abrupt. but your friend doesn’t seem to mind and answers with an honest smile.

“yeah, namjoon and i have been friends for over a decade. he’s really good.” yoongi doesn’t praise people often. it’s nice to see.

“his mixing is decent”, seokjin agrees and you look at him in shock. he researched namjoon? even yoongi can’t hide his surprise.

“jungkookie forwarded us your spotify profiles”, jimin explains and makes the first direct/indirect comment addressed to yoongi. but that’s not the part making you jitterish.

“profiles?”, you ask jungkook and push the empty plate away from you. your best friend isn’t used to have you this far away from him and he does not care for it. it’s difficult to read your emotions from the distance.

“of course, _____”, he admits, “that’s the only information you shared about your plus one. i’d be a terrible best friend if i hadn’t at least researched his work.” the accusation is thick, and you can feel it hanging between the both of you. before you can defend yourself, the oldest gets up.

“let’s get the chicken, jungkookie!”, seokjin exclaimes enthusiastically, while you still look at your best friend who doesn’t let you out of his sight as well.

“come on, let’s get it!”, he repeats and pushes against jungkook’s shoulder. reluctantly, the host moves from his seat.

the two of them collect your plates and disappear into the kitchen.

“your mixtape is better than namjoon’s”, taehyung says softer to yoongi, who still looks uncomfortable with the situation and jungkook’s unspoken accusation. at the compliment though, the rapper blushes.

“really?”, yoongi breathes and tries to hide his reacting behind the nearly empty wine glass. you want to coo at him.

“if you ever need someone decent for the ‘so far away’ refrain, i bet jungkookie or jiminie will be more than happy to re-record it with you!”, taehyung nods and makes jimin choke on his spit. looking at the short man next to taehyung, you can’t help but notice his silence. he’s not disagreeing.

“you don’t like the collab?”, yoongi asks curiously and you try to kick him under the table.

now jimin is the one who answers, while jungkook and seokjin arrive with the citrus chicken: “nah, her voice is way too untrained. it sounds half-baked.”

silently, jungkook moves closer to you to put down the main course as the oldest hands out the homemade pasta. your best friend smells way too edible with the chicken in his hands, carefully placing it in front of you. his chest brushes against your back and you feel him inhale deeply. he must really like the smell as well, you think, and get so distracted by your friend and food, that you are not aware of yoongi’s smirk.

“so, jimin, you think _____’s voice sounds half-baked?”, the rapper teases.

there’ll be a part two of the dinner date! thank you so much for the feedback! i love hearing from you! there are two of bangtan’s running gags and two song titles in this chapter – who found them?

i’m really liking taehyung more and more…

stay healthy and happy and feel yourself hugged from, dana

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad @kimluvwoo @jinsearthh

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #idol!jungkook #ceo!jungkook #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #jeon jungkook

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soldmysoultootomeboys · 4 years

Note

I love the au swap ! If you dont mind the undateables (+ platonic luke with simeon?) Summoning a demon MC??

Demon MC with Human Undateables

I hope these are okay!! I’ve never written for these characters before so I tried my best

Part 1

Diavolo

When a human summons you, you tend to have an idea of what you’re going to see when you show up, black hoods, cult robes, mysterious sigils signed in blood, NOT an average looking sitting room that appears to be part of a moderately wealthy mansion

Immediately your greeted by a man in an expensive red suit

He looks rather excited to see you, like he wanted to pull you in for a hug right there instead he settles for a handshake

Before you can start your usual spiel on the rules for your pact he interrupts you shaking his head

“I invited you here not as a demon but as a guest. Consider it like improving the relationship between the three realms. What do you say?”

What can you say? A human with knowledge of all three realms was rare but one who invited a demon into his own home was even rarer. You can’t help but be interested in what it is he really wants.

So you agree a pact forming between you two in a second.

You fully expect him to break his promise. After all there isn’t anything in it for him. However a real order never comes and for all intents and purposes you really are treated like a guest.

For a while you had wondered if you were meant to be a servant here, but Diavolo seems more than happy with his staff. In fact his head butler could be a demon with how efficient his service is.

With a little snooping you manage to find a file full of different demons, including you but he easily explained it as possible candidates for his program.

On more than one occasion Diavolo invites you to enjoy tea with him, although you suspect its more of an excuse for you to talk about Devildom. Diavolo is fascinated with the place.

He hangs on to every word you tell him, exclaiming over your cultural differences with excitement.

Whenever you bring back a new snack or devilmade show he’s very eager to watch it with you.

You’re still not sure what he really wants. He continues to treat you as his guest but you can’t help but feel he’s hiding something.

Oh well, it's probably nothing.

Barbatos

Sometime when you make a pact it feels like you’ve lost something. Maybe your freedom, or your dignity, but in this case it doesn’t feel like you’re missing anything at all. In fact its more like you gained a butler.

Even though you’re the demon here, he’s the one who’s always taking care of your every need

Before you can even ask he is offering you cake and tea with refined grace, as if he was born to do it

In fact the two of you end up enjoying some very fine tea parties

At first he insists on serving you but with a little nagging (as well as some bribes in the form of a few special Devildom tea blends) he can be convinced to sit and chat with you

He seems to know a little something about everything making him the perfect conversation partner and listens to you talk about home with a quiet smile. However your favorite times are when he lets loose.

A real smile (drawn out by your presence and a bottle of wine) takes up his face and he’s more personal, teasing you and even talking about himself

However most of your time is spent in the kitchen

He works at a very popular bakery so the two of you spend many afternoons making pastries. You offer what tips you can but he is already a very accomplished baker so there’s not much you can say

Instead you sit on the counter taking swipes of the batter when he isn’t looking (He knows, he just wants you to feel like you’re getting away with something)

It’s on a day just like this you have your first encounter with what would become your worst enemy

He had just opened the cupboard to get more flour when he lets out a bloodcurdling scream

You jolt from your perch. In all your times of living together he had never made such a sound and you peak over his shoulder to see what he’s looking at

Calm as can be sits a plain black rat chilling on top of a pack of sugar

Barbatos is still very much so frozen so you scoop up the animal and go outside to dispose of it

It's kind of gross but not nearly as bad as some of the pests back in Devildom so it’s not that big of a deal

When you walk back inside he has once again composed himself into the picture of dignity but for the next week you are rewarded with as many sweets as your heart desires

After that you makes sure to keep the kitchen free from anymore of the pests and he leaves you more than enough presents for your service

Solomon

Who is this shady man?

He summons you in what looks to be a stereotypical alchemy lab, something you hadn’t seen since like what? The 19nth century? Jeez man move on

He asks you to make a pact and despite your general misgivings you agree

Of ALL of his 87 pacts (now 88) he favors you and you spend a lot of time with him in the human world

Although he’s a rather strange person his work is rather interesting. He has plenty of rare tombs and interesting spells, you just wish he wasn’t so eager to test them on you

Typically you just help him with potion brewing and magic but occasionally you perform other tasks for him too

You also end up meeting quite a few of his other demons including Asmo who was more than interested in having some fun with the both of you, something that you had to politely (and then forcefully when he didn’t get the hint) shoot down

Even though you work with him a lot you still don’t have a clue on what his purpose is

Simeon

He didn’t summon you on purpose...probably?

It’s kind of hard to tell. He seems really religious but he’s also super chill about the fact that you’re there

He acknowledges that you’re a demon but never actually brings it up

When you’re in public he introduces you as a friend of his

It’s actually kind of funny to shake hands with people who would probably scream if they knew who you really were

You end up reading a few of the books he wrote. They’re actually really good. You even find a character that reminds you of you. It’s actually a little too similar really, but it was written before you two had ever met so you guess its just a coincidence.

He asks to see your demon form and as you have no real reason to say no you agree

He’s rather unphased but like Lucifer he’s very interested in your wings. Almost bluntly he asks if you could fly with them, or more importantly if you could fly with him

He’s not a big guy so it’s pretty easy for you to pick him up

It’s not the proximity that has you blushing but his outfit. While you had noticed he was rather scantily clad, it is extremely obvious when you have to touch him, hands pressed tight to the dips in his hips, while an arm is delicately slung around your neck. It takes all your focus not to just have a nosebleed and crash

When you get high enough that the city lights gleam below you and the stars glitter above he becomes very quiet. When you look over to see if you broke your new human you see that he’s just staring at the stars

He seems very at home in the air and holding him isn’t so bad. The two of you stay up there for a long time and when he finally begins to shiver from the altitude you settle on the roof tucked tight to his side watching the stars a little longer. Both of you thinking of a home you can no longer go

Luke

Has a heart attack

Literally has a heart attack

As soon as you appear he’s dialing for Simeon to come help him because there is a DEMON in his house!!

He tries various methods to banish you, most of them hilarious to say the least.

Throwing salt, holy water, and even a shoe when he got desperate was about all he had in his arsenal. You actually laughed at that last one or at least you did before he started to cry

You give Simeon a pleading glance but when he only gives a mysterious smile at you in return you decide to scoop Luke up. He complains but pushes further into your chest anyways.

Once he starts calming down to the point where he doesn’t try to exorcise you whenever you enter a room he’s not that bad

In fact he’s pretty fun to hang around with.

He spends a lot of time baking and you’re able to buy his affection by offering to teach him Devildom recipes

After helping him make yet another batch of cupcakes together you find that you actually really like the kid???

After this he’s going to be the most protected child in the entire world

Bullies beware between you and Simeon nothing is going to happen to Luke on your watch

Luke tries to rein you in most of the time so you have to make sure to do anything when he’s not watching

For the most part he pretends like he doesn’t like demons, but in the end it's obvious that he really cares about you

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Want To Wait, seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompt:

Sharing is caring. Now, give me the hoodie!

“I’m never drinking again,” Aelin moaned as she rolled over on Lysandra’s bed, shoving her head under the pillow. She knew Rowan had censored himself filling in the gaps of her night. Saying she was an angry drunk, though accurate, was not quite specific enough.

Apparently, she and Rowan had had a screaming match in the kitchen that he failed to mention, and Aelin had zero recollection of.

“The entire kitchen cleared out,” Lysandra explained, “Lyria included. But you were… pretty loud.”

Aelin groaned into the pillow.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Lysandra patted Aelin’s foot, trying to be comforting, but Aelin didn’t want to be comforted right now. She kicked Lysandra’s hand away.

“This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Lysandra snorted and poked her bare foot. “At least he thought you were talking about someone else?”

Aelin peeked out from beneath the pillow and frowned again. “That is so much worse. Now he thinks I’m mad at him for not letting me kiss NOX OWEN.”

“What else was he supposed to think? You can’t exactly blame him. You smacked his drink out of his hand and started screeching about how he ruined your kissing plans.”

“As if I’d ever have a chance with Nox. I barely even have a chance with Rowan, and he’s been my best friend since we were eight.” Aelin sighed loudly. “Whatever. Everything is ruined now. He’s going to prom with Lyria.”

Lysandra frowned, the pity evident in her bright green eyes as she flopped down next to Aelin on her comforter. “I’m sorry, boo.”

“Tell me one more time,” Aelin sighed. “Exactly what we both said. Every word.”

“In the kitchen?”

Aelin nodded.

“You stared at Lyria’s hand for like… a full ten seconds. Then you smacked the drink out of Rowan’s hand, and screamed – Where’s my drink, bitch? And he very calmly said, What the fuck, Aelin? Because… you know. The drink spilled all over the floor. Then you screamed at the top of your lungs, I NEEDED ANOTHER DRINK, AND YOU RUINED EVERYTHING. And he did that eyebrow thing you hate and asked, What did I ruin? And then you screamed back KISSING PLANS. That’s when the kitchen started emptying out.” Aelin groaned.

“It’s so much worse hearing it again.”

Lysandra paused. “Do you want me to repeat the rest?” And Aelin nodded tentatively. It was masochistic, but she needed to hear it all again.

Lysandra sighed loudly, knowing the worst was about to happen. “You fucking raged, Aelin. You incoherently started screaming – I HAD KISSING PLANS. AMAZING REAL FIRST KISS PLANS AND YOU RUINED THEM BY GETTING DISTRACTED.” She crinkled her nose at that. “And it looked like Rowan was going to say something, but you just kept going on and on about your ruined kissing plans. You called him an idiot….” Aelin cringed. She couldn’t believe how belligerent she was. “And then you screamed, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO COME BACK WITH MY DRINK. THE DRINK WAS INTEGRAL TO MY KISSING PLAN. Which, by the way, nice SAT vocab drop while you were blackout drunk. That was impressive.”

Aelin couldn’t do anything more than flick off her friend. She was too busy berating herself for all the stupid things she didn’t remember saying when she was drunk. She’d been this close to telling Rowan she’d planned to kiss him. And she’d said FIRST KISS. It wasn’t like she hadn’t kissed anyone before – she totally had. There’d been several games of truth or dare which included kisses and a braces-filled makeout session at Camp Terrasen in eighth grade. She’d just meant their first kiss. She wanted to die.

“Then he got really mad himself and screamed back at you that you should have told him about your kissing plans, so he didn’t ruin your night. And you screamed back it didn’t matter since it was already ruined and clearly you could get your own drink.”

“I think that’s when he realized you’d had a little too much to drink that he’d clearly missed. And he sought out Nox, who explained the drink chugging, and while that happened, you literally chugged another drink and then launched yourself at Salvaterre.”

“I have to apologize,” Aelin said, but Lysandra shook her head.

“He didn’t bring it up for a reason.” Lysandra softened her eyes, running her hand through Aelin’s freshly showered hair. “I think once you punched Lorcan he chocked everything up to wasted nonsense.”

Aelin shoved her face into Lysandra’s pillow and let out a low laugh. What a nightmare. “I’m just grateful you and Elide were there to change me,” she said. “I can’t even imagine my embarrassment if Rowan had to peel me out of puke-covered clothes.”

“Yeah, you owe us for that one.”

Aelin’s mouth dropped in shock. “You left me to sleep on the bathroom floor!”

Lysandra laughed. “Only because you scissor kicked Rowan in the knee when he and Wes tried to take you up the stairs.” She looked at Aelin. “He’s not mad at you, Ace. He was going to let you sleep in his bed. Puke-covered and all.”

Aelin rolled onto her back. “But he’s going to prom with Lyria,” Aelin repeated again.

“She’s nice,” Lysandra quipped, causing Aelin to glare at her. “But she’s not you.” Aelin’s lips quirked upward at that. “He’ll figure it out eventually,” she said, letting Aelin breathe a sigh of relief. She really hoped Lysandra’s assessment was true. “Or he won’t, and you’ll spend the rest of your life pining away.”

Aelin snorted loudly. “Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome, bitch.”

Lysandra paused, her green eyes soft and nervous instead of holding their usual brash confidence as she continued. “I know you and Rowan are special best friends with, like, a special best friend song and everything.”

“We do not have a special best friend song?” Aelin interrupted, causing Lysandra to laugh and boop her nose softly.

“You do. It’s ‘Dancing In The Moonlight,’ which is adorable, but not my point.”

“And that is…?”

“I know I’ll never be Rowan, but I’m still a best friend, and if you need to talk about things… you can tell me. Especially if they’re Rowan things.”

Aelin bit her lip and breathed nervously. “I’m glad you know.”

“Oh, babe,” Lysandra laughed, rubbing Aelin’s shoulder softly. “I’ve known about your feelings for years. I’m just glad you finally told me.”

Aelin groaned and shoved her head under the pillow again.

~*~

Dear journal,

I don’t know who else to talk about this with. I know Lysandra KNOWS now, but I just need to vent to someone impartial, okay? Things with Rowan are so weird… because they’re not weird at all. After Lys told me what I screamed at him, I was sure he’d finally come out and clear the air, but it’s been a WHOLE WEEK, and he hasn’t said anythingggg. Everything is just…. normal??? He even let me keep the lacrosse sweatshirt Lys and El put me in. I tried to give it back, but he told me it was mine now. What the hell is THAT about? What does it mean?

I want to tell him I know about the fight, but then I’d have to explain I was screaming about kissing him, and I don’t know if he wants to hear that anymore.

All I know is that every time I look at him I feel like I’m about to explode. Not to mention I’m about to go suit shopping with him for ~PROM~ and I’m kind of freaking out. What is Rowan in a TUX going to do to my body? I might just combust there on the spot. Maybe he’s right. I should ask Lys to teach me how to … you know (masturbate). I tried to watch a video (I KNOW), but I got a million pop ups and got too nervous and shut my laptop off. Maybe I should look on my phone next time. Do phones get pop ups?

UGH OKAY. HE’S HERE. WISH ME LUCK.

Xo, Aelin

5/21/20 – age 16

Aelin slammed her journal shut and shoved it under her stack of decoy notebooks in her nightstand just before Rowan appeared in her doorway.

“Ready to go, Ace?”

She nodded and stretched her arms above her head, shaking out her hand, which was cramped from writing so neatly in her journals.

“Don’t you want to bring a jacket?” Rowan asked, looking at Aelin’s bared stomach pointedly.

“It’s almost June, Buzzard, don’t be such a prude,” she answered, her arms self-consciously crossing over the chest of her cropped t-shirt.

He rolled his eyes, leading them back downstairs, and Aelin grabbed her purse and followed. “Don’t come complaining to me when you’re too cold.”

“I would never,” she gasped, feigning shock. “And don’t forget you owe me post-shopping ice cream.”

“Oh, bring me back a pint of chocolate peanut butter,” Rhoe called out from the kitchen, his blue eyes peering out from behind the giant pages of the Orynth Times.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Aelin called out, passing by the kitchen with a wave.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Aelin doubled back and peered into the kitchen where her exhausted looking dad sat. “Rowan is taking you shopping? Has hell frozen over? Rowan, how did you get conned into this?”

Aelin looked up at Rowan, who scratched his head uncomfortably. “She’s actually taking me shopping. I need a tux for prom…” Rowan trailed off, his cheeks turning slightly pink as Rhoe returned a surprised look at the child who was practically his surrogate son.

“Ae, do you need a dress?” he asked, suddenly looking worried. Her dad would give her the moon if he could, but supporting a daughter on a firefighter’s single salary was often more than he could manage.

“Oh, no,” Aelin shook her head, carefully concealing her hurt feelings with a devilish smirk. “Rowan got asked to junior prom.”

Rhoe’s eyes widened, flickering between his daughter and Rowan rapidly, before smiling softly. “An older woman, eh?”

“It’s not like that…” Rowan grumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly as he looked down at the ground at his well-worn running sneakers. “I barely know her. I just said yes to be polite…”

“Sure, Buzzard,” Aelin said, poking Rowan’s side. He frowned at her unhappily, flicking her finger away.

Rhoe barked out a loud laugh. “Have fun, you two.” He fixed Aelin with a serious stare. “Make sure he picks out something really embarrassing, kiddo.” His stare broke as he winked, sending them off on their way, Rowan rushing out of the house as fast as his feet could carry him.

“Oh yeah,” Aelin laughed. “I’m putting him in blue ruffles first.”

“You are not!” Rowan called from outside, already starting up the jeep.

Aelin waved goodbye to her dad and hopped into the passenger seat, cranking up her mix, which was still playing in Rowan’s car.

~*~

“I look stupid,” Rowan whined, shoving his hands into the pockets of the umpteenth different styled tux the shop attendant had pulled for him. This one was black, again, but some kind of shiny material, and the pants had a stripe up the side.

Aelin couldn’t help the small frown that tugged at her lips at how picky her best friend was being. She honestly assumed the boy who mostly lived in athletic shorts and t-shirts would be fine with the first suit he tried on, but he was being finnicky and far too particular for someone who “just said yes to be polite.” And it was starting to get on her nerves. What she thought was going to be an exercise in sexual restraint was actually just trying her patience.

“Shiny, no good!” the salesman agreed, his accent curling thickly around his criticism.

Rowan sighed and turned to look at Aelin, who did her hardest to neutralize her facial expression before he saw her frown, but it was too late.

“I knew it,” Rowan grumbled, peeling the jacket off and handing it to the salesman, who cleared out the full dressing room again, and Aelin gnawed at her lip, trying to think of something comforting to say.

“It’s not bad…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ace.”

“Language!” the salesman snapped, and Rowan’s mood lifted for a brief second as he laughed in shock, his eyes going straight to Aelin, as if to say Can you believe this guy? She shook her head in agreement, and she was relieved to see a smile on his face for the first time in two hours.

Aelin pushed herself off the small chair in the communal dressing room space and approached Rowan. She cocked her head to the side and let her eyes shamelessly trail his form. He was right about this particular suit. It did look stupid. But none of the suits, all in differing shades and cuts of black, had looked right. As her gaze trailed back up to his face, his breath held, patiently waiting for her conclusion, Aelin had a stroke of genius.

“Black isn’t your color, Ro. It’s washing you out.” Rowan’s face scrunched at her assessment, clearly unpleased. But the stark contrast between the white and black, combined with his pale hair was doing something to his usually tanned and glowing skin, and it wasn’t good.

“I refuse to wear a light blue suit,” he said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Not something bright. Just… subtle color,” Aelin explained, and the salesman started nodding rapidly.

“Ah, yes, the Bellissima is correct. Color. Yes, color! COLOR!”

He excitedly ran back into the shop and returned with suits in various dark shades of navy and emerald and maroon slung over his shoulder. Aelin watched in amusement as he shoved Rowan back into the dressing room, telling him to try the green first.

Aelin stood impatiently, arms crossed and leaning against one of the 360 mirrors, hoping against all hopes that her assessment was correct. She wasn’t sure she could endure another two hours of this. Another five minutes would be bad enough, to be honest.

When Rowan walked out to the small platform, she knew she’d nailed itt. Her pulse thrummed loudly, and she could feel her lips part, inhaling a large gasp into her drying mouth. Rowan looked…

“Wow,” Aelin whispered at the same time Rowan said, “Huh,” peering into the mirror.

Aelin stood up straighter, pushing herself up and getting a closer view of the striking boy in front of her. The green was so dark, it just barely contrasted with the black lapels and trim of the suit, but the color brough a warmth to his face that had been missing, the green of his irises prominent beneath his long blonde lashes. Those bright eyes peered over at Aelin, searching for her reaction, and she couldn’t help the soft blush that appeared across her skin as they locked with hers.

Rowan cleared his throat, coughing lightly as he smoothed the jacket out, pulling the lapels gently. “Uh, yeah. Good call, Ace.”

Aelin lifted her long hair into a high bun, needing something to do with herself besides stare and to allow the breeze of the store fan to cool the back of her neck.

“The one!” the salesman cooed, running his hands across Rowan’s broad shoulders proudly. “We did it!”

When Aelin looked back up, she was surprised to see Rowan’s eyes still on her, gauging her reaction with curiosity. He raised a blonde brow in her direction, and Aelin was afraid for a second that she was going to launch herself at him right there and kiss his face.

Instead swallowed loudly and clapped her hands, shaking off the intensity of his gaze and smiled broadly. “About time, Buzzard. Now, let’s go get me some ice cream.”

The moment was broken as Rowan rolled his eyes and made his way back into the changing room, slinging the suit over the door as Aelin exhaled and slumped back into the chair for a brief reprieve.

“Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream,” Aelin chanted as Rowan paid for the tux rental.

Rowan slung his arm over Aelin’s shoulders and smiled down at her. “Fine. You earned it.”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Aelin said, as the salesperson shouted, “Language!” at them again, as they ran out of the store, both giggling.

By the time they reached their favorite ice cream spot, the sun had set, and the swift down current breeze of the Staghorn Mountains had started up, cooling the temperature significantly from the balmy afternoon Aelin had dressed for.

She looked out at the dark water, shivering slightly as she took her first bite of mint chocolate chip. Rowan bit back a smile as he wrapped his hoodie around himself tighter, keeping the winds out, happily eating his cookie dough without danger of freezing to death.

On her third bite, Aelin finally broke. “Oh come on, Buzzard, sharing is caring. Now, give me the hoodie.”

“I told you to bring your jacket!” Rowan laughed just as a particularly strong gust cut against Aelin’s exposed skin, making her shudder. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he snorted, opening up the hoodie and nodding to her. “Get in here.”

“Really?” she asked, teeth chattering.

“You’re the worst,” he joked as he unzipped his hoodie and held it open, and Aelin practically raced into it. Rowan’s smile grew as he zipped the hoodie back up, which shockingly stretched large enough to fit them both. Just barely. Aelin pressed her cheek against his chest, soaking in his warmth as his free hand rubbed her back. She shivered again, but this time having nothing to do with the cold, warmth and desire radiating through her body as she felt every twitch of his muscles, every shallow breath.

“Better?” he asked, and she nodded, smiling happily into her next bite of ice cream. She savored each bite, not wanting the moment to end too soon. Each bite tasting better than the last, surrounded in Rowan’s grasp and heat. She breathed in, his heady scent filling her head, his embrace feeling so perfect around her. Her stomach calmed, everything suddenly feeling so right.

“Thanks, Ace,” he said quietly, resting his chin on her head. “I know that’s not how you wanted to spend your Saturday.”

Aelin finished her last bite and leaned harder into his warm chest. “I don’t care how we spend our Saturdays,” Aelin admitted. “As long as we’re hanging out.”

“Cool,” Rowan said, sounding so lame that Aelin couldn’t help but laugh, and she could feel him hiding his own smile in her hair. “Okay, we have to get back into the car,” he laughed outright, his hands rubbing circles onto her back, and Aelin shook her head into his shirt. No, she wanted to stay just like this forever.

“I’ll freeze to death!” she countered instead.

“We’ll just have to make a run for it. I don’t plan on losing you tonight, Ace.” Aelin groaned, but Rowan knew he’d won. “On the count of three,” he warned her. “One… two…” On three, he unzipped the hoodie, and Aelin screeched, her voice raising to glass shattering levels as she sprinted towards the jeep, wind whipping through her thin t-shirt and cutting against her warmed skin like ice.

Rowan unlocked the jeep as they ran, and they both launched themselves into their seats simultaneously, joyful laughter bubbling up in both of them and filling the car.

Aelin watched Rowan as he turned the car on, and immediately cranked up the heat. Her stomach fluttered again, and she crossed her legs to quell the ache of desire that had begun to take over her body.

As stealthily as she could, she pulled out her phone and texted Lysandra again.

I need some help.

Her phone lit up with Lysandra’s returning message almost immediately. XYZ kind of help???

Aelin snorted at the use of Rowan’s code name. Lysandra had suggested if Aelin ever wanted to talk about Rowan in text, she probably shouldn’t use his name. Just in case he ever saw. Aelin had immediately suggested his initials, RW, but Lysandra smartly pointed out he was the only RW they knew. Lysandra cackled, suggesting XYZ – because it came right after W. And with any luck, Aelin would be coming soon.

Aelin’s cheeks flushed as she texted back. Can you teach me/instruct me/explain how to masturbate?

OMG!!!!! MY BABY BUTTERFLY, YES YES YES GIRLLLLL!!!

Aelin laughed softly, and Rowan looked at her curiously, from her cheeks to the phone lit up in her hand.

“Who could you possibly be texting right now?” he asked, and if Aelin didn’t know better she would have thought he maybe sounded slightly put out.

“Lysandra,” she answered, a little too quickly, but her heart was beating too fast at the inappropriate back and forth she and Lys were having, especially since she wanted to fantasize about the person sitting right next to her while she… learned.

“What about?” Rowan asked, curious.

Aelin bit her lip. “You were right,” she said, her face probably beet red. She was grateful he couldn’t entirely see the color in the dark.

“About what?” he asked. “I mean, I’m often right about a lot of things,” he added cheekily.

“Masturbation,” Aelin replied as confidently as she could, while feeling like her skin was going to burn her alive. The car swerved slightly as Rowan snapped his head to look in her direction.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice sounding strained and high.

“Lysandra’s going to teach me.”

Aelin could feel her best friend’s gaze puncturing holes into her flaming cheeks as he searched for something to say. But when she looked up, she couldn’t speak fast enough.

“ROWAN!” she shouted as the jeep crashed straight into the taillights of the car in front of them.

~*~*~*~

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#rowaelin #high school au #i don't want to wait au #charincharge writes

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tsuumu · 4 years

Text

bokuto and oikawa with an s/o who sings and dances.

hi, anon! thank you so much, i hope your day was just as wonderful! sorry this took a tad longer to write, i’ve been dealing with some health issues but writing this cheered me up a lot. i hope you like it!

bokuto koutarou:

• this came as a huge surprise to him. like: slap-in-the-face-in-a-good-way type of surprise.

• this was by pure accident. bokuto had come over to your apartment to surprise you, since his schedule had meant you two hadn’t spent much time together as of late. since you’ve been together for quite some time, he has his own key. he thought nothing of it, letting himself in quietly.

• what he didn’t expect though, was to hear his seemimgly quiet, timid s/o belting out lyrics in the shower. the sound of your voice mixed with the falling water left him standing there, absolutely stunned.

• he blinked, rubbed his eyes, before pressing his ear to the doorframe. yeah, there’s no mistaking it. that was you.

• bokuto proceeds to barge in on you, still showering, armed to the teeth with questions. you end up screaming even louder than you were singing.

• “you CAN’T just come in unannounced. jesus. i think i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“well you can’t just hide the fact that you can sing like that! we’re even!”

• so you end up having to explain to your boyfriend -butt-ass naked- that you’d been in theatre since a very young age. he’s listening with literal stars in his eyes, awed by your exceptional ability.

• he will undoubtedly ask you to tell him all of your experiences and things you’ve done throughout your time in theatre. this is vital information that helps him understand you better.

• at-home affairs will consist of him and you singing your hearts out whilst doing things like cooking and cleaning. bokuto is surprisingly not so bad himself, though he’s nowhere near your level. (he laments over this as he wants to be able to hit the notes you can so easily)

• he’d definitely ask you to sing him to sleep because it comforts him greatly, head resting on your chest, curled up with you. i’m not crying

• he’s CONVINCED it’s super romantic to slow dance with you in the middle of your studio apartment at like 2am. that’s not even your area of expertise when it comes to dancing but hey, he holds you like he’s holding the most valueable this in the world, so it’s perfect.

• for some reason, bokuto has made up his mind that you’re that one main girl from ‘black swan’, so his new nickname for you is ‘swan’. you think it’s cute??? you’re not sure, but he loves it.

oikawa tooru:

• this boy is naturally talented at singing and nobody can tell me otherwise.

• you first caught him humming and mumbling a little tune or two whilst he’s running his errands and trust you to know a good singer when you hear one.

• as your time together progresses, he definitely sings to you playfully as a dramatic declaration of love. he’s definitely tried to embarrass you in public by (in his words) romantically serenading you. he’s earned many punches on the arm throughout your relationship.

• you never really talked much about your own musical abilities, until he eggs you to go with him to a karaoke place one day. you’d could hardly refuse with the amount of shameless begging tooru did. so, he drags you by arm with full force.

• he has his own share of fun, singing like crazy and making you laugh until your sides hurt. he didn’t really know what to expect when handing you the microphone. you pick a slow song, much different to his selection. the countdown plays on the screen and it’s like oikawa has entered the gates of heaven (again, his words).

• the seijoh captain is literally dumbfounded???? a small, nervous twist in your stomach arises when you see how genuinely shocked he is, you’re eventually unable to finish the song because you get really shy.

• he lowkey thought he was the talented one in the relationship. shut up, loser

“no! please carry on, oh my god. i don’t know what i’d do if i didn’t hear you sing the end.”

“but tooru—“

“(y/n)...” he pouts.

• god. it’s that pout. the one you can’t refuse. so you do and as you finish, he picks you up and spins you around with a flourish.

“seriously! you’re unreal! what else are you hiding up your sleeve?”

• after you’ve both calmed down, you tell him all about your threatre skills and he’s even more invested. suddenly it’s discovering a whole new world with you.

• oikawa asks begs you politely to teach him. let’s just say he is considerably less naturally talented at dance. his vain attempts to keep up with you make you laugh even harder than before. he doesn’t give up though. he’s determined to beat you.

• tooru tells anybody who will listen about his s/o’s theatric abilities. he’ll tell them again and again because he loves to show off how skilled you are. that’s his baby!

• asks if you guys can sing a duet at your (very non existent) wedding. you’re like ??? but he’s dead set on it. he wants a fairy tale experience.

• also proposes that when you two get into arguments, that you should have a sing-off and whoever wins takes the entire argument. you have to explain to him that that just wouldn’t work for all incidents. he’s genuinely confused as to why not.

• probably mutters that if he was blessed with the ability to dance like you, he could’ve become a famous, japanese idol. sure, baby, sure.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto headcanons #bokuto x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa x reader #HAHA THIS WAS SO CUTE TO WRITE #sorry it was so late :((#haikyuu

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annabethy · 4 years

Note

“don’t lie to me” + percabeth if u are up to!!!

“Don’t lie to me.” Percabeth teacher au!! <3

Annabeth couldn’t think of a better way to spend her mornings than with Percy. He was always so sweet and warm when he first woke up, making him the perfect person to snuggle up to in the middle of a New York winter.

The ride to work was no less lovely with her sitting in the passenger seat, a steaming cup of coffee that Percy had made “with love” in her right hand, and her left hand intertwined with his. Watching the snow fall in a comfortable silence was so delicate and magical, and it’s truly the best way to start her day.

As she’s walking into the school with him, hand in hand, she leans closer to him, using his arm as a buffer from the biting wind. Percy just gives her a lopsided smile, something akin to adoration in his eyes, and pulled her into his side. There weren’t many students around this early in the morning, so she doesn’t bother trying to separate herself from him. She doesn’t even know if she could because he’s acting as her personal heater, and that may be too good to give up.

“You look adorable,” Percy comments as he holds open the door to the school. “The red nose really tops off your whole look.”

Annabeth sniffles, trying to subtly wipe her nose with the hand that’s still holding a travel cup of coffee. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m being serious,” he whispers playfully, bumping her arm with his elbow and prompting her to roll her eyes fondly. He guides her through the halls of the front office, reaching for her hand and lacing them back together. “You always look pretty, but right now you look so huggable.”

She can feel the flush still on her cheeks, but she doesn’t know if it was from the cold or his kind words. Almost a year of dating and he still made her feel just as giddy as she did on day one. “I love you.”

“Couldn’t possibly love me as much as I love you,” he quips, but he presses a kiss to her temple before changing the subject. “So, I was thinking. After work, cuddles and a movie?”

“Only if we can get snacks first,” she says, biting her lip in a smile. If there’s anything she loves more than waking up next to the love of her life, it’s getting to spend Friday night with just the two of them. There were no kids to bother them or tests to grade. It was a time for the two of them to just exist with one another, and she cherished every week when she got to go home with him.

“We can stop for snacks, but then we’re watching Finding Nemo.”

“What’s with your obsession with the ocean?”

“I think clownfish are cute,” he answers, because of course he thinks clownfish are cute. “All fish are cute. That’s why I teach marine.”

Annabeth expected nothing less of him, and she decides to humor him. “Did you know I once had two goldfish and I named them Ren and Nephr?”

“Unique names,” Percy says, sidestepping a kid frantically making their way down the hall.

“They both mean kidney.”

“You would, Chase.”

“I also had a fish named Ornith.”

“That means bird,” Percy states.

“I liked the irony,” she tells him, taking a sip of her coffee. It’s still steaming in the cup, and it burns her tongue slightly. “Regardless, I think your obsession with the ocean is alarming.”

“At least I don’t go around screaming law of cosines,” Percy says, pointedly looking at her. “I didn’t even know what that was until you started crying about how stupid they were last week when you were grading papers.”

“That’s because they are stupid, I swear to god. They were all I-don’t-know-when-to-use-law-of-sines-versus-law-of-cosines like it’s hard!”

“I’m sure it’s so easy,” he says, but his laugh gives his sarcasm away. “You just have to accept that you were a fluke in the system, and no one will ever be a smart as you.”

Annabeth smacks him upside the head with her cup of coffee lightly but she’s still smiling. It’s moments like this that really get to her. She could just be herself around him, and they could tease each other but know that they love those things about each other at the same time.

She loved him.

Annabeth bites at the inside of her cheek, loving the way he looks at her out of the corner of his eyes, before she slowly pops the lid of the coffee off to try and get it to cool down faster.

Percy’s arm is snug around her waist, so she doesn’t look up as she continues walking. She blows around the rim of the cup, the steam swirling up in the air. It smells mouthwateringly delicious and it’s starting to cool off, so she brings it to her lips just as they round a corner, and—

Someone slams into them, and suddenly the only thing Annabeth can register is pain.

“Shit.” The scalding coffee seeps through her shirt almost immediately, and her skin feels like it’s on fire. The cup falls from her hand, the rest of the contents splattering on the floor, but she can’t be bothered to care as she tries to break the shirt’s contact with her blistering torso.

“—you okay?”

Annabeth’s mind comes reeling back as Percy’s voice reach her ears, and she can pick up the frantic edge to it.

“Annabeth,” he prompts again, his hand sliding down her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering him, she glances to the person cowering in front of her, and her skin is on fire for a completely different reason.

Octavian stares back at her, terror clear as day on his face, and she is about to explode. This kid was always the center of something, causing problems with every single breath he takes. He had no shame, and he always had the audacity to do whatever it is he wants to do, and now he’s ruined her favorite part of the day, and she can’t breathe.

��Octavian,” she says tightly, scrunching her nose in mock politeness. “Did you maybe think it would be a good idea to check where you’re going?”

The kid stammers.

“It would be smart not to go running around the halls and bumping into people carrying hot drinks,” she says, her voice dangerously steady. “God, you’re so—” There’s so much she wants to say, to scream, at him, but even in her heightened sense of rage, she knows she can’t, so she clenches her fist hard enough for her nails to indent her skin and she pauses for a second before she storms off in the direction of her room.

She doesn’t look to make sure Percy is behind her, too busy trying to hold back rising tears, and she really doesn’t know why she feels this way. All she knows is everything was perfect, and now it’s not.

As she unlocks her classroom door, Percy’s hand is settling over the dip in her waist. She steps inside the room, and she doesn’t know what exactly she was going to do except perhaps have a meltdown, but she never got the chance because Percy wastes no time before pulling his sweater over his head and holding it out towards her.

“What are you doing?” she asks miserably, still forcing back her frustrated tears.

“Take it,” he says, gazing at her earnestly.

Annabeth bites her lip, her eyes glossing over. He was too good for her. “I’m sorry,” she chokes out. She doesn’t know how to express what she was sorry for, but she has a feeling he knows.

“Don’t be sorry.” Percy’s arms seek out the bottom of the sweater so he can help her into it. He slides it over her and once it’s on, he reaches forward to tilt her head towards him so he can give her a forehead kiss. “It was an accident.”

“Octavian was an accident,” she whimpers, dropping her head against his chest.

She doesn’t understand why she feels so upset. She just knows that she doesn’t like the hole in the pit of her stomach or the tightness of her throat.

“Why are you so sad?” Percy asks, cupping her cheeks and pouting.

“Today was going so well,” she complains, wincing away from his fingers that go to wipe her tears.

And maybe she does know why she’s so upset. Mornings were her favorite time of day because she got to be with Percy. She got to see him in ways that no one else did and listen to his words that he doesn’t say when anyone else is around. When they’re at work five days a week surrounded by children, he didn’t get to show her affection in the ways he does outside of school. Morning was her chance to see that.

Never had something interrupted those perfect moments before. Not until now.

The moment had been so perfect, so private and loving, and it was destroyed.

“You told me I looked adorable,” she says, sniffling. It was the only way she knew how to explain the torrent of emotions she was feeling. “Now I have a big coffee stain on my shirt, and I look disgusting.”

“You still look adorable.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she chides.

“I’m not lying,” he says softly. “You always look adorable.”

She just drops her forehead back against him pitifully.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Percy says. “I tell you that all the time.”

“You’re a big fat liar.”

Percy’s lips tilt up in a smile. “I’m not. In fact, you actually look even better right now, all cute and warm in my hoodie.”

Annabeth looks down as though for the first time realizing she was wearing it. It was too big on her, but it smelled like him, the picture of a sunny day at the beach, warm on the sand.

“You’re so so so pretty, especially when you’re wearing my clothes.” Percy’s arms wrap around her squeezing tightly, and she feels secure in his embrace. “Don’t let this ruin your day. Octavian’s stupid. This isn’t new information.”

“But our morning is ruined.”

Percy squeezes her tighter, slightly swaying back and forth. “Lucky for you, it’s Friday. We can go home and pretend it’s morning again and take lots of naps.”

“And watch Finding Nemo?”

“Oh, yes. That part’s nonnegotiable.”

Annabeth’s lips pull up at that as she nestles deeper against him. “I love you.”

Percy’s response is an affirmative hum and a kiss on the top of her head.

So maybe her morning hadn’t gone quite as planned, and maybe she was overreacting just a bit, but there’s always tomorrow, and there’s always their Friday night snuggles.

As long as she has Percy, she figures everything would be alright.

#percy jackson #percabeth #annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing #anon #asks #teacher au

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

You asked for Stucky asks so here I am

So I’ve been on a really big Stucky kid kick recently. Not in that Stucky are kids, but they have kids. Some random thoughts…

- All the aunts and uncles. Just. All of them. Their kids are SO loved and so well-protected.

- Bucky was okay with going on missions, but it wasn’t ever his purpose (not like he knows it is for Steve) so he stays home with the kid(s) full-time now.

- And yes, Bucky fights with PTA Kathy. His cookies are superior, Katherine.

- They want their kids to be well-rounded, so they speak in an odd mix of every language they know; mostly Irish, English, and Russian, maybe a Romance language as well.

- (That’s actually a whole separate headcanon of mine; when it’s just them, they’ll slip seamlessly from English to Russian to Japanese to Irish with no thought behind it; they could find the word easier in this language, then they just kept speaking that language. They both cringe occasionally when the grammar doesn’t match up.)

- Whether or not Stucky are cis (and you know my thoughts on enby Bucky), their kids know they’ll be cherished for who they are, not who their parents perceive them to be. “Your name was a gift,” Steve tries to explain at one point. “We taught you to accept gifts because that’s the polite thing to do, but no one’s going to be upset if it’s something you’ve outgrown now, understand?”

- Auntie Nat teaching the little Barnes-Rogers kids an odd, beautiful mix of ballet and about four different types of martial arts.

- They absolutely do the “It’s your kid when it’s unhappy” thing but it’s all a joke, they love their kids more than life itself and more often than not, at least at first, the second they hear something over the baby monitor, they’re both out of bed to go check on the baby.

- Later on they adopt an older kid, maybe 12-13 years old, named Margot. At first she’s secretive, trying to hide things that don’t need to be hidden, because of her previous family. Eventually they break through that wall (with a whole lot of therapy) and Margot shares practically everything with her parents.

- Names: Steve is Papa and Bucky is Dad for no reason other than I like it and I think they would too.

Also I apologize if any of this is disjointed, it’s 11pm and I’ve had 4 hours (not consecutive) of sleep in the past 24 hours. I hope you like it! ❤️

KJFALSKFJASL SCREAM STUCKY KID STUFF IS MY FAVORITE!!!!

i love love love kid fics and this fed my life blood

afksdjlafksjdlf im just picturing papa steve and dad bucky with a kid on each hip and bags of supplies and strollers and sunglasses as they stroll into the zoo or something aldskfjlaksjfdlak

god i love kid fics

#this is making me wanna work on my #kid fic #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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just-a-few-prompts · 3 years

Text

Part one here

Tagging: @whatwasmyprevioususername

TW: This extended prompt involves hurt children, abused children, abusive parents mention, trauma reaction, and bruises. Stay safe lovelies!

The hero pulled the villain up from the ground, thoroughly defeated by the rest of the team. The ambush in the villain’s own lair had worked beyond successfully. Villain roused with a groan, opening one eye as they gripped at the hero’s wrist. They couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, painful as it seemed, given the bruises and wounds showing through their costume. “Good morning, sunshine,” they drawled out before being pinned against a wall by the hero.

“Under Code A673, Section B, I am now placing you under arrest,” the hero said coldly, pulling a pair of handcuffs from their belt.

Villain snorted, holding their hands up between their faces. “You know already that it was necessary what I did.”

“Robbing that bank was not necessary,” Hero spat. They turned Villain around, more annoyed than anything about them laughing whilst being handcuffed.

“How else was anybody going to know about the fraud?”

Hero froze, furrowing their eyebrows. With a sly smile, Villain turned to look over their shoulder, albeit with their black eye. “Don’t tell me you didn’t find anything fishy,” they chuckled. “How all that staff was so careful with their words, tried to be vague about what was stolen. When you get those papers back, everyone will know.” Sighing in relief, Villain closed their eyes, leaning their head against the wall. “And all those people will get their money back. The money they deserve for all their hard work.”

The Hero’s eyes flicked towards their teammates, who were currently looking around the lair, flipping furniture, delving through desk drawers. They leaned in to whisper something to the Villain, maybe to help them out while their team mates were distracted, but their thoughts were stopped in their tracks.

“Hey, what’s this door?” Superhero called out, looking over their shoulder. They gave it a few light knocks, almost mockingly. “You came out of this door, when we came in. What’s in there, Villain? Secret plans?”

Villain’s eyes snapped to Superhero, and they growled under their breath. “Don’t open that,” they hissed. “Leave it alone.”

Superhero looked at them incredulously, scoffing. “Yeah. Sure.” They put a hand onto the door handle and swung it open.

The Villain began to lift themselves from the wall, and Hero pinned them back down, completely out of instinct. They felt bad about the wheeze. “Just- just keep your voices down,” Villain rasped out. “No harsh movements- you’ll scare them.”

“Scare who?” Superhero laughed before looking into the room. Their expression of mirth dropped instantly as they realized what they were looking at.

It was a classroom. There was a chalkboard, a few desks, colorful posters- there were children, a group of them, huddled up in the corner. They looked with wide eyes at Superhero, some of them mouthing the Superhero’s name in recognition.

Superhero stared blankly at them, just as confused. “... what the fu-“

“Language!” Villain cried out. They quickly remembered themselves, lowering their voices and squirming away from Hero. “Watch your language, please- let me up, let me up-“

Hero stepped back, numbly watching Villain stumble over to the classroom. “Please dont crowd around the door, you’ll scare them,” they whispered, shouldering past the other team mates that had gathered around the door frame for a look. They pushed through a pair of shoulders just a little too hard, and they fell more than staggered into the classroom, gritting their teeth to stifle a grunt of pain. Their hands were still cuffed - no way to break their fall.

“Teacher!” The children came out from the corner like a swarm, immediately going to help Villain sit up. Gentle, small hands guided them, pulling away when they winced at hidden bruises being touched, carefully avoiding wounds.

As Hero pushed their team mates away from the doorway, they glanced over the children. Their careful manner suddenly made sense - plenty of them had bruises of their own, healing along their arms and legs. The children glanced with fearful eyes at the hero team at the door, looking more afraid by the second.

“Thank you, children, thank you,” Villain sighed as they pulled away. They did their best to muster a polite smile. “Are you all alright? Is anybody hurt?”

The chorus of “No”s and “Mm-mm”s was interrupted by the voice of the Superhero in front of them. “What did you do to these kids?” they asked, trembling with anger and clenching their fists. Some of the children froze as they saw his hands, backing away carefully.

“I did nothing,” Villain said, glaring at Superhero as they struggled to keep their voice level. “It was their parents. I saved them.”

“What?” Superhero couldn’t help but laugh, waving an arm at the chalkboard. “What, for this? What are you teaching these kids? Tax fraud? Terrorism?”

“Addition and subtraction,” Villain growled, tilting their head at the board. “And later, when we’re all done here, it’ll be time for Science class.”

Superhero rolled their eyes, though they did squint at the board full of “3+5= 8”, “9+2= 11”, and other such formulas. “What are you gonna teach ‘em then?” they asked, sounding a little less sure than they had before. “How to make a bomb?”

Villain’s face twitched into a grimace before they glanced at the children. Calming themselves down, they looked blankly at Superhero. “Simple machines, actually,” they said. “You know. Levers, Pulleys, Screws. Wedges.”

“... Wh...” Superhero faltered, frowning at Villain. “Why are you teaching them that?”

Sighing, Villain shook their head, crossing their legs. “They missed it in school due to injuries,” they explained. “Otherwise that, or they didn’t go to school in the first place.”

The team glanced over the group of kids, some of whom were vigorously nodding. Hero noticed the way some of them gripped at the Villain’s shoulders and cape, how most of them hid behind them for as if they were a shield.

They were broken from their thoughts as somebody laughed. “Come on, Villain,” Superhero said nervously. “I get the Robin Hood schtick, but this? Do they even know where they are? Do their parents know where they are?”

Villain scoffed, shaking their head. “They are safe,” they said, their voice dangerously low. “Their parents don’t deserve to know where they are.”

“That’s not for you to decide!” Superhero snapped. “If they’re being abused at home, the police get involved! You call CPS, you can’t just kidnap all these kids!”

The Superhero was frantic now, looking around at the children. They barely seemed to register the fact that the children had flinched at the mention of police, and the ones that hadn’t flinched now had glazed-over eyes, standing slack as they stared into space.

“CPS didn’t do anything,” Villain growled, struggling to keep their face calm. “Somebody had to do something.”

Shaking their head, Superhero shut their eyes. “You know what?” they muttered, waving their hand. “I don’t want to hear any more. They’re going home. Here- come on, kid. Let’s get you home.” They strode across the room and reached for one of the boys standing next Villain.

“Not his shoulder!”

Too late.

In the next second, the boy was screaming and curled up on the floor, his eyes scrunched shut as he put his hands over his head. He screamed incoherently to please, leave him alone, he didn’t do anything, Father, please-

Superhero stumbled back, bewildered. They were knocked out of their shock rather literally; Villain sprang to their feet, delivering a vicious kick to Superhero’s stomach. As Superhero fell over a row of desks with a clatter, Villain turned back to the boy, collapsing onto their knees.

“Tommy?” they whispered, leaning down to put their shoulder to his side. “Tommy, it’s okay. You’re okay-“

A shaking sigh of relief escaped them as they were moved aside. One of the little girls was hugging Tommy now, rubbing his arms with a sad look on her face. “Thank you,” they whispered breathlessly. “Good job, Sarah. You’re doing great, you’re both doing great- It’ll be alright, Tommy. You’re safe. I promise you, you are safe.”

Hero watched from the doorway as their teammates rushed to help Superhero. The other “side” was doing some help for their own, giving Tommy some space but calling out to let him know where he was, who his friends were, that they believed in him.

“Are you really going to take us back?”

Hero stifled a cry in their throat as they looked down, seeing one of the children standing next to them. “You won’t take us back, will you?” the child repeated before turning and pointing. “Villain is such a good person. They’ve been teaching us. We can stay, right?”

Gulping, Hero looked at the rest of their team, who looked every bit as in shock as they felt. They couldn’t leave this out of the report to the agency. They couldn’t.

Could they?

#superhero prompt #hero prompt #villain prompt #good villain #hero #villain #superhero #tw: abuse mention #tw: parental abuse mention #tw: bruises #tw: blood #It was an idea of not one but several children saved thanks to a system that did not work

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dearest-bucky · 4 years

Text

My dearest darling (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Request - where reader was a cheerful employee in Stark tower. Something bad happens to reader(reader was taken advantage of sexually on her way home from work) that changes her overnight which Bucky dug deeper to know the reason for the change *if what happened to reader is too dark you may change it.

Words: 6.3K

Warnings: Sexual assault, mentions of rape, angst, death, angst again… sorry this is a tad darker than everything I’ve written before.

A/n: This was requested by @tom-hlover she so kindly shared her idea with me and trusted me to write it, I really hope I did this one justice darling! <3 To everyone else reading this, please mind the warnings and if any of the topics mentioned there bothers you in any way don’t read this one.

Feedback is greatly appreciated! xx

Originally posted: August 26, 2020

The crack of her heels could be heard from across the halls, the signature sound of her arrival at the tower. Each morning, Bucky strained his ears to hear those sounds he had grown attached to over the months she’d been working with them, and each morning, he’d give it about ten minutes before he left his room to walk towards the kitchen where he’d find her fixing three cups of coffee, one for her boss, Tony, one for herself and one for Bucky.

Since they’d ran into each other one morning and she had offered to make him coffee, he had loved it so much it had become a daily thing. At first, when he didn’t know her schedule that well, she’d make him coffee and put a post it note on the mug -Bucky- and he would enter the kitchen and see his name there, drink a sip and know immediately who was it from. That put a smile on his face every time. After a while, Bucky came to the kitchen at the same time as her; they’d sit next to each other for a maximum of five minutes before she had to bring Tony his coffee. Bucky relished those five minutes he’d spend in her company and he’d go about the rest of his day with a silly grin plastered on his face.

To say he was smitten with Tony’s assistant would be a serious understatement and he’d put up every day with the teasing remarks from the rest of the team if it meant he was able to spend time with her. The fact that she worked inside the tower most of the time was really convenient for him, because he got to see her around a lot during the day, especially when Tony was hiding away in his lab inventing God knows what, she’d be more free to spend time with the rest of the team, the metal armed super soldier in particular.

“Good morning Y/n.” He spoke from behind her as he entered the kitchen, finding her pouring coffee in the mugs, just like every other morning.

She turned around to face him with a smile on her lips, she was actually expecting him to show up. “Good morning.” Then wordlessly she offered him one of the mugs, which he took with a small thanks. After one sip he sighed in content, albeit a little exaggeratedly.

“I don’t know how you do it, but this is the most amazing coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

“I could teach you how to do it.” She offered with a shrug as she took a sip from her own coffee.

“No, because then I’d have to do it on my own. I enjoy it like this.” He replied with the same silly grin he adorned on his face whenever he was in her presence. “By the way, I didn’t notice a third cup this morning.”

“Oh, that’s because Tony’s not here yet. He called me just before you showed up, saying he had some personal business to take care of and he won’t be here until the afternoon.” She explained and then added. “That means there’s extra coffee in the pot for you today if you want more.” At that, Bucky’s face lit up like Christmas tree.

“Doll, you’re simply the best.”

Hearing Bucky say those words, made her blush. She felt a wave of warmth bloom on her chest, then spread quickly on her neck and cheeks. He always said words like this to her and they always had the same effect on her. Every time they were together, he’d pay her a compliment that made her face flush and her heart beat a little more quickly than normally, and every time she’d look down trying to conceal her involuntary reaction.

Bucky was one of the few people at the tower, one of the few members of the team who she’d consider a friend and not just someone she worked for. Despite the fact that she technically worked only for Tony, whenever she could, she’d be of assistance for the other Avengers too. She loved working for them, with them. They were all very kind and polite to her, but Bucky was different.

Since the beginning they’d bonded over cups of coffee to open their sleep deprived eyes and eventually they’d become more than just two people who work at the same place, they’d become friends. At first it was only the five minute morning meetings, then they’d seek each other whenever they had some free time during the day, strengthening that friendship more and more everyday.

She loved spending time with him. Bucky was someone she could easily open up to, someone she could rely on, someone she trusted and admired. She admired him for being the nice, kind and funny person he was despite everything he had gone through. She admired him for being able to put the past behind him and make the most of the second chance he’d gotten in life. She admired him for never losing the gentleness of his heart, the softness of his eyes, the sweetness of his smile, and if she were to be one hundred percent honest with herself, she even liked him more than a friend should like another friend.

But she’d never do anything about it. It was wrong for many reasons, reasons she’d gone over in her head many nights when sleep would evade her and she’d lie in her bed wide awake and the thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Does that mean you’re free all morning?” He asked her as he moved to the coffee pot for a refill.

“Well, not all morning. I still have to arrange Tony’s schedule before he comes back and set the calendar for his meetings, but yeah, I have at least a couple of hours I could spare. Why? Did you have something in mind?”

“Mhmm.” He hummed and nodded his head in response, then, looking a little more sheepish than usually, he spoke again. “I was thinking we could have breakfast together. I’ll cook for you.” He added quickly. “As thanks for the great coffee you’ve made me every day for the past seven months.”

A small smile formed on her face and she nodded her head in return. “I’d really like that.”

Bucky returned her smile, trying to steel his nerves as he set his mug on the counter and moved to the fridge and the cupboards, bringing out several items and placing them on the counter. “So I was thinking, pancakes? Or scrambled eggs and bacon? What are you in the mood for?” He asked, the smile still etched on his lips as he moved around the kitchen.

“Both!” She exclaimed with a small laugh and he looked in her eyes, eager to do anything she wanted.

“Then both it is.”

Bucky cracked the eggs and mixed the batter and fried the bacon and even squeezed fresh oranges, moving around the kitchen easily, while Y/n was sitting on one of the stools, looking at him cook and listening to him talk while he did everything on his own. She offered to help but he replied that he had it under control. And he truly did. In less than an hour they were sitting next to each other, biting into salty and sugary food, mixing them together and claiming “It will all mix up in the stomach anyway”.

They ate and talked and enjoyed each other’s company and after they had finished eating they were still staying in the kitchen, not ready to part yet. Y/n knew she had to get up and get to her work, but she wanted to stay more with Bucky, so she made no move to leave until Steve and Sam entered the kitchen a little after ten am. After greeting them and thanking Bucky for the breakfast she got up from her seat and bid them all goodbye, her eyes lingering on Bucky a second more before she left the kitchen.

Usually she never stayed past five pm at the tower, but on occasional days like this one, where Tony was not around in the morning, she had to stay a little later. It was a little after seven in the evening when she finally left the tower for the day. She couldn’t wait to go home and lie down. Despite not having a very difficult job, chasing after Tony all day really took a toll on her, and on days like this one when she stayed later than her usual time she was a little more tired than usual.

She tightened the scarf around her neck more, trying to protect herself from the cold wind of November. The sky was pitch black and no stars were in sight, but at least the streets of New York were well illuminated and crowded as she made her way to her apartment. She lived four blocks away from the Stark - now Avengers - tower and she always walked the distance, enjoying the streets of the city and the never ending movement of the people that walked up and down the streets at any given time.

She was nearing the block of buildings where her apartment was when she heard movement from behind her. She turned her head slightly to the side, trying to figure who was following her, but the area around was not that illuminated and it was nearly impossible to see who was behind her. She quickened her steps, trying to reach her apartment as soon as possible and she was almost there, letting out a small breath of relief when she saw the entrance of her apartment building, when she felt something grab her hair and yank her with force.

She tried to scream for help, but the person behind her was quick and placed his other hand over her mouth, shushing her effectively. He let go of her hair and grabbed her arms, keeping them secured to her body so she wouldn’t fight and moved her towards the alley behind her apartment. “Sshh…” The unknown attacker whispered in her ear and she panicked as his breath hit her skin. “It’s all going to be less painful for you if you don’t scream.” He then said and Y/n tried so hard to fight and scream but the man behind her was way too strong for her, his grip firm on her body as he started to touch her, moving his hand under her coat, then under the shirt she was wearing.

His touch was making her vomit, and she opened her mouth in his hand and bit hard on his flesh. The assailant yelled in pain and she screamed for help as soon as his hand let go of her mouth. He turned her around to finally face him and her eyes met his for the first time. “You bitch, I thought I told you to not put up a fight.” A strong fist collided with her cheek and she hissed in pain. The man in front of her was tall, too tall for her and had a lean, strong body, one that could easily overpower her.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She whispered in pain as her body trembled in fear. “I’ll give you all the money I have, just please let me go.”

Then man laughed evilly and pushed her backwards, her back touching the wall of the alley, while his one hand covered her mouth and nose again, not allowing her to let out even the smallest sound. “I don’t want your money.” He spoke and his mouth came down to her neck, kissing and licking the skin that he could expose from the scarf.

Y/n started squirming, shuffling her body to get free from him but it proved futile as the man’s grip on her never faltered. His other hand moved to her legs, bunching the woolen skirt she’d worn that day around her waist and ripping the black tights with his fingers. Y/n tried to move around and fight more, she tried to kick him in the crotch but it did nothing. She even tried to bite his hand again, but that didn’t work either, it only angered the man more as he turned her towards the wall and slammed her head against it with force.

She could feel the blood dripping down her forehead and started feeling dizzy as the man moved his hand down her legs again. He pressed her body and her face against the wall and kept her trapped there as she could hear him fumble with the zipper of his own pants. She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell at him, at someone to help, but she felt like she was losing consciousness as the man behind her pushed himself behind her and then she felt him inside.

She was helpless as the man took what he wanted from her and then several minutes later - or it could have been hours later, because that’s how long she felt she’d been trapped between the man and the wall - she heard him tuck himself inside his pants and left her there, on the verge of collapsing.

Her legs failed her and she fell on the cold hard ground with a small thud, crying and shivering. She had no idea for how long she stayed there alone and in the cold or how she managed to get up and walk to her apartment, locking the door behind her and double checking it. Numb legs took her to the bathroom where she got rid of all the dirty clothes she was wearing, then she moved under the shower, letting the scalding hot water run down her entire body. Trembling hands grabbed the loofah and she nearly ripped her skin off with how much she was scrubbing.

Her whole body felt dirty and she felt filthy. She stayed in the shower for a long time, thoroughly washing herself, until she felt the water turn cold. She turned the shower handle off and she grabbed a towel to cover herself with. She couldn’t stand to look at her naked body anymore.

With rushed movements she walked to her bedroom and changed into clean clothes, a pair of warm and fuzzy pajamas and she lied down under the covers, alone and in the darkness. Only when she was laying down in silence, she was finally able to acknowledge what had happened to her. She’d felt so powerless in his grip, so weak and helpless, and then she started crying, loud sobs ripping from her chest. She cried and cried and cried until she passed out from exhaustion.

Morning came just like every other day, night turning day and clock ticking as it normally should, as if nothing had happened. Only Y/n felt herself more sick than last night. Her alarm rang, notifying her she had to get up and get ready for work, but that was the last thing she felt like doing. She only wanted to lay down and probably die. She felt like dying. With weak hands she grabbed her phone and sent a text to Tony, shortly explaining she wouldn’t be going to work today. After that she turned off her phone, not caring for anything in the world anymore, covering her head with the blankets, wanting to forget.

Bucky entered the kitchen just like every other morning, the same time as always. He hadn’t heard Y/n’s heels today but he assumed maybe she wore flats, so just like every other day, he made his way to the kitchen with a stupid grin on his face, too happy to finally be able to see Y/n, too happy to start his day with the sight of her beauty. However as soon as he was in the kitchen he noticed the unusal silence surrounding the area. Y/n was nowhere in sight, neither was the coffee pot that was usually ready by now. He let out a small ‘huh’ as he walked out of the kitchen, heading for Tony’s lab.

“Good morning Stark.” He said as soon as he entered his lab.

“Ah, Barnes. To what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my sanctuary?” Tony spoke in his usual lively tone of voice.

“I was actually looking for Y/n. Didn’t see her in the kitchen like every other day.”

“That’s because she won’t be coming in today. She texted me earlier to let me know she wasn’t coming to work.” Tony explained and turned back to whatever trinket he was working with.

To say that he was surprised wouldn’t begin to truly explain whatever he was feeling after Tony’s words. Y/n never took a day off of work, unless she had other plans that she usually told Bucky about, but her not showing up today was a little weird. He quickly sent her a text asking if she was okay before he went down to the gym for his morning training with Steve.

The entire time he was a little disoriented, but he blamed it on the lack of the dose of caffeine this morning, however something deep inside him told him it was something else. His confusion only grew when more than two hours later he still hadn’t received a reply from Y/n.

It was now almost eight in the evening and he still hadn’t heard anything from her. He tried calling her but it went directly to the voicemail. Maybe she’s busy, maybe her battery died, maybe she has other stuff to take care of. There were a million thoughts that went through his head, but he refused to think negatively. She’d informed Tony she wasn’t going to work, surely she had a good reason not to go, but if she’d been able to text him this morning she had to be fine.

However his thoughts only served to feed his worried heart more as almost a week passed and Y/n never showed up to work. Every day Bucky would ask Tony about her and every day Tony would tell him she’d texted him to inform him she couldn’t make it for the day. Every day his messages and calls would go unanswered as she apparently turned off her phone immediately after she texted Tony.

It was only the next Monday, exactly nine days later, that she finally came back to the tower. Bucky was in the kitchen, drinking the not so tasty coffee Steve had fixed him - he had to settle for Steve’s shitty coffee as long as Y/n wasn’t there - when he finally saw her, walking quietly and with small steps he almost missed her. When he saw her he got up from his seat, a wash of relief overcoming his senses, but it was over too quickly as he saw the look in her face when he spoke to her.

“Y/n, you’re back.” The sound of his voice startled her and she visibly flinched, confusing Bucky even more. “Are you okay?” He asked and moved a step closer to her, only to have her move a step back in reaction. He immediately stopped. She moved her head up to finally look at him. When they eyes met, he could finally see the far away stare that was fixed in her eyes, as if she wasn’t even there. The glint of joy she usually carried in her face was gone, replaced by pale skin and dark circled under her eyes. “What happened?” He asked, concern evident in his voice. She was scaring him. She had never looked this weak, this… Sick.

She only shook her head slightly and moved around him, reaching for the coffee pot to make the coffee. She worked in silence and Bucky could only look at her figure. She looked thinner than a week ago, weaker, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her.

She made the coffee and filled two mugs, picking one up to bring to Tony and leaving the other on the counter for Bucky. Nothing for herself. Then she left the kitchen, wordlessly, quietly, like she hadn’t even been there. The only proof of her existence that morning was the steaming cup of coffee that was resting on the counter.

He didn’t see her for the rest of the day. Then again for the rest of the week. He knew she was coming to work because every morning he’d find a steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for him, but he never saw her there when he entered the kitchen. She was ignoring him, doing her best to never even run into him during the day. He had no idea where she was hiding most of the time, but he never bothered to find her, thinking she just wanted to stay away from him.

The fear in her eyes that first day she came back still haunted him. She’d never been afraid of Bucky before, but that day only the sound of his voice had been enough to startle her.

He missed her. He missed her more than he’d like to admit, but it seemed as if Y/n was determined to avoid him at all cost. He never saw her anymore, not when she arrived at the tower in the morning, not during the day, not even when it was her time to leave the tower. He had no idea if she’d changed her entire schedule only to not run into Bucky anymore, but it still hurt him to not be able to spend time with her anymore.

He had to ask someone about what was going on and who better to ask than Tony. After all, he was her boss, and she would have told him at least something. With a goal set in his mind, he walked to Tony’s lab, expecting to find him there, but what he found, or rather whom, shocked him to his core.

Y/n was sitting on the floor, her legs brought to her chest, she was actually making herself as small as possible. She was crying and pulling at her hair, heavy sobs leaving her throat. As soon as he saw her, he ran to her. “Y/n.” He called her name and crouched down next to her, gripping her wrists to make her let go of her hair. However, that only seemed to make the situation worse because she started to cry more and scream for him to let her go and not touch her. He immediately let go of her, putting his hands up in the air to show her he meant no harm.

She crawled away from him, then got up to her feet to walk away, but as soon as she reached the door of the lab she lost consciousness and collapsed on the floor. Bucky ran to her and gathered her in his arms, moving her around and placing her on the small cot in the lab. His heart was breaking at the sight of her. When he laid her down he noticed small bruises on her wrists and he cursed himself, thinking he did those to her, but then he noticed more peeking from underneath the sleeve of her shirt and he moved it up, uncovering the bruised skin of her arms. There was definitely no way he did those to her, he was sure of that. But somebody else had.

Tony entered the lab and saw Bucky hovering above her, lightly patting her cheek to wake her up. “What happened, Barnes?” He asked, a little alarmed at the sight of Y/n unconscious.

“Oh God, Stark you’re here.” Bucky continued to explain exactly what happened to Tony, from the moment he’d found Y/n having a breakdown on the floor, to the moment she fainted.

“I’m gonna have Friday diagnose her. She hasn’t looked well all week.” As Friday scanned her limp body in silence, Bucky couldn’t help but stare at her pale face. He couldn’t move his eyes away from her even if he tried, lost in her features until the Irish voice of the AI broke him off of his trance.

“It appears that miss Y/n had suffered a lot of panic attacks these last couple of weeks and she has several bruises on her body. She seems to have been violated, sir.” Friday concluded and Bucky and Tony could only stare at each other, shocked at what Friday had said.

They moved her to the med bay and called Bruce to hook her up to an IV and give her some medication. Bucky was sitting on the chair next to her bed when she woke up, panicking when she couldn’t make out her surroundings.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He spoke softly, trying not to startle her and it worked.

“What happened?” She asked in a small voice, a little hoarse from all the screaming before.

“I’m not sure.” Bucky replied, a little unsure. “You were having a breakdown when I found you in the lab, then you passed out.” He explained. She could only nod in understanding and turned her head to the other side, not looking at Bucky anymore. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t bare to look at her so weak, so vulnerable. She’d always been joyful and alive, especially around Bucky. Cautiously, he touched her hand and took it in his, and despite her flinch he didn’t let go, softly cradling her hand in his flesh one and rubbing his thumb on her knuckles. “Y/n, will you tell me what happened?”

She turned her head to him, ready to tell him nothing had happened, too ashamed to tell him the truth, but as soon as her eyes met his she knew he already knew, he had somehow learned the truth, he just wanted her to tell him the entire thing.

She stared up at his face. This was Bucky. The Bucky she’d have coffee every day with, the same Bucky she’d talk for hours on end whenever she wasn’t busy with work, the same Bucky she’d spend hours of sleepless nights texting, the same Bucky who had congratulated and hugged her when she became an aunt, the same Bucky she had helped after one particularly bad mission, the Bucky she called her friend, the Bucky she wanted to be more than friends with. The Bucky she had countless of daydreams about.

Those dreams were over though. She looked at his pure, blue eyes and she couldn’t help but feel like she was dirty herself. She couldn’t tell him what happened, he would never look at her the same after that. But as he sat there next to her, rubbing circles on the back of her hand, patiently waiting for her to find the voice and speak, she did just that.

She couldn’t keep it inside anymore. It had been more than two weeks and she hadn’t talked to anyone about what had happened that night. “It happened that night I left the tower later than usually.” She finally started to speak, despite the tremble in her voice.

Bucky knew immediately about which night she was speaking of.

She explained everything that happened, stopping to wipe the tears from her face every other minute, reliving every moment of that dreadful night in her mind. Bucky could only listen as she spoke, not daring to interrupt her for fear of spooking her more. It seemed like she needed to get what happened out of her chest, so he let her tell everything to him, despite his heart breaking with every word that left her mouth.

By the time she finished speaking, he felt his cheeks wet from the tears. He hadn’t noticed but he had started crying too. He could only hold her hand, not knowing what to really say. He wished he could turn back the time and undo what was done, but he knew that was impossible.

“I’m so sorry.” He said the words between tears and Y/n was surprised by them. She had been expecting him to let go of her hand, to say she was tarnished now, unworthy of kindness in any capacity, but instead he was apologizing to her for something he wasn’t even guilty of. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you, baby.” He spoke again and Y/n’s breath hitched in her throat.

She shook her head slightly, wanting to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but no words left her mouth. “Can I hold you, please?” He asked then and she thought about it for a little before nodding her head hesitantly.

He moved to sit on her bed, his arms wrapping around her torso, holding her in his embrace firmly.

Y/n had thought that being touched by a man again would only remind her of that other man’s touch, but as Bucky held her body close to his, she figured this was the first time in weeks she felt safe. In his arms she felt like she could breathe again after all this time. Her hands fisted his shirt, not letting him go, hiding her face in his chest to inhale his scent, a scent she had related since way before everything happened to safety, to happiness.

As they were staying on the bed hugging each other closely, heavy sobs escaped Y/n’s mouth and she started to cry again. Bucky let her let it all out as she rocked her body softly and after some time she was finally out of tears, only small whimpers of pain left her lips.

He could feel his shirt was wet from her tears but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all as long as she was feeling better.

Eventually she let go of his shirt and tried to shift away from him. Immediately he let go of her and she felt her move her body so her head was resting on his lap. All that crying had taken a toll on her and she was exhausted.

Bucky’s hand moved to her head, playing softly with her hair and soon he felt her breath evening out, almost as if she had fallen asleep. “Please don’t leave me.” She said in a small voice but he heard it either way and he’d be damned if he ever left her side again.

Soon enough she fell asleep and Bucky’s mind was running a million miles per minute as he thought about everything she’d told him before.

Bruce and Tony entered the room they were in, surprised to find them in that position.

“Bruce I need you to give her another sedative. She needs to sleep for the rest of the night and I have some work to do.” Bucky talked low and slow, not wanting to wake Y/n up and Bruce only nodded at his request.

Carefully he maneuvered out from underneath her and placed her head on the plush pillow. He placed a quick peck on her forehead before walking out of the room, Tony following behind him.

“What’s going on?” He asked and Bucky explained him what had happened, not going into details because 1) he didn’t want to share Y/n’s horrible experience with anyone (it was her decision who she talked to about it) and 2) he couldn’t even form the words to say what had really happened even if he tried.

“I’m gonna find that son of a bitch and kill him.” He said finally, a dark look on his features, the Soldier look.

“I’m coming with you.” It was all Tony said before they walked together out of the tower.

Hacking the street cameras, they were able to identify the man that had raped Y/n from the moment he had started to follow her and it was even easier to locate the bastard.

When they found him in his apartment, which was surprisingly in the same block as Y/n’s, Bucky had unceremoniously pulled the trigger and shot him in his crotch. The man had screamed in pain and cursed out loud. Bucky had wanted to make him suffer in pain for as long as possible, but then he thought of Y/n, of the pain she was going through, so he decided that scumbag didn’t deserve even one more inhale of oxygen. So he’d shot him again, this time a bullet piercing his heart and leaving him dead in an instant.

Tony had said nothing as he stood near Bucky the entire time, not even wearing his suit. It wasn’t Iron Man who was taking revenge, it was Tony Stark, and a perverse feeling of contentment filled him when he saw the life leave the body of the scumbag that was now laying dead before their feet.

When they returned to the tower, Y/n was still asleep, so Bucky decided to take a shower and change before he went back to her.

The streaks of sun entered the room from the half closed blinds, falling directly to Bucky’s eye and effectively waking him up. He picked his head up to look at Y/n, looking at her already awake, staring at him in silence. She looked a little better today, calmer even.

“Good morning.” He said sleepily and she greeted him in return. “Are you okay?” He asked then and she only nodded her head affirmatively. He gave her a small smile and moved his hand to touch her cheek, but she flinched away from his touch.

“I’m sorry.” He was quick to apologize, not at all offended by her reaction. It was natural, she needed time, too much time to heal, and Bucky was willing to do whatever in his power to help.

She shook her head, wordlessly telling him he had nothing to be sorry for, and slowly reached her hand out to grab his, intertwining their fingers together. Bucky looked down at their joined hands and smiled. He would wait his entire life for her to heal, to be ready for his touch and he was more than happy with just holding his hand.

“I understand if you think I’m sullied now, because I am. And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anym-” she started speaking but Bucky interrupted her.

“Hey, none of that, please. You’re not sullied. You’re still Y/n. You’re the same person you were two weeks ago, the same lovely woman I’ve known for months, the same woman I’ve grown to…” He stopped himself from speaking more, not because what he was about to say was untrue, but because he didn’t want to overwhelm her, not now that she was so vulnerable. But she had her teary eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to continue speaking, silently urging him to finish what he started, so he resumed again after a deep breath.

“Y/n, I know this is probably the worst time for me to tell you this, but I really like you. I have liked you for quite sometime and I still do, I still will, no matter what. I didn’t want to say anything because of this situation now, but I figured I should be honest with you.” He confessed almost breathlessly and she only kept staring at him in disbelief.

“You can’t like me anymore.” She then spoke, voice trembling and tears falling freely from her eyes. “I’m broken Bucky.”

He wiped her tears from her face gently and then softly cupped her cheeks. “You’re not broken. You’re just a little wounded now, and that’s understandable. But you’re not broken. You’re you. I told you. Nothing has changed for me. I still have feelings for you and I will wait as long as you want me to, if you decide you can ever give me a chance.” He held her face firmly but gently in between his hands and Y/n couldn’t tear her eyes from his, tears spilling freely at his words.

She nodded her head slowly, than without even a word she moved to hug him closely to her. Bucky welcomed her in his arms and held her there for a long time. He could feel her heart beating, so close to his and he could feel her soft breath tickling the skin of his neck where she was hiding her face.

“I wanna go back to sleep. I hadn’t been able to sleep for days before last night.” She confessed and Bucky moved to release his grip from her body, to allow her to lay down, but she didn’t let him go too far. “Will you lay down with me?” She asked and he nodded his head, because of course he would lay down with her. He would do anything for her.

He laid down beside her and she was quick to curl her body next to his, her head resting on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, allowing his heartbeat to calm her more. Bucky wrapped his arms around her shoulders, one of his hands moving up and down her back in soothing motions, and the other, the metal one, playing softly with her hair, lulling her back to sleep.

A moment later he began singing words of a song she had never heard of before, softly whispering the words close to her ear.

… Nothing in this world Can keep us apart Oh my dearest darling I offer you my heart …

She knew she had a long way before her, a long way before she could go back to some kind of normalcy, before she’d go back to the person she was before, or maybe just at least try to, but she knew that with Bucky by her side she’d be alright. She was half asleep when he sang the next words of the song, making her heart soar in her chest.

Whenever you need me I’ll be there by your side Oh, I pledge my love to you With God as our guide…

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

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