Request by Anon:
Ooh can you make an imagine with jealous stiles? You’re going to a Shawn mendes
concert with him and your inner fangirl comes out so it makes him a little
Word Count: 1,349
Warnings: Mentions of sexy time.
Author’s Note: To all my readers who are also Shawn Mendes fans and have been looking forward to this imagine… HERE IT IS! I hope y’all like it. I had fun writing this. 😊 Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.
It’s a Saturday
summer night and for their one year anniversary Stiles had surprised Y/N with concert
tickets to her favorite singer, Shawn Mendes. However, he didn’t just get her
regular tickets. He went all out and bought her front row tickets and managed
to score backstage passes to meet Shawn after the show.
Stiles knew it was
the perfect gift and he was right. When he surprised her with the tickets just
an hour before the concert, she flipped out. She screamed and jumped up and
down with excitement before lunging at Stiles, smothering him with kisses and
countless I love you’s as she clung to him like a monkey. She had been moping
all week because the tickets sold out in a matter of seconds after going on
sale. She had tried so hard to get some but had no luck. However, Sheriff Stilinski was friends with the manager of the concert venue and was kind enough
to help Stiles get the tickets. Stiles knew this would get him the title of
being the best boyfriend in the world.
However, right now Stiles was slightly
regretting getting her the tickets, as she seemed to ramble non-stop about
every awesome thing Shawn did tonight.
Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in
You slip inside with a group of men you’ve never seen before. Thankfully, they assume you’re a friend of a friend of a friend that they’ve just never met. The alcohol they drank on the way may have helped a little, too. You can smell it on their breaths as the men laugh at some obscene joke.
What crude people. Judging by their accents, they must be some of Tina’s friends. You huff out a breath as you slide along the wall away from them and try to tune out their thoughts.
Strings of twinkling lights hang from the ceiling, draping down to the guests’ heads, remaining just high enough to be out of reach of any mischievous teenager. Tables covered in white cloths dot the small area of the room that isn’t a dance floor. Vases with red roses sit in the center of the tables, the only pop of color in the room aside from the matching walls and black chairs. A band plays a simple swing song near the front of the room, right next to the empty dance floor. People filter in from outside, entering the already warm reception room.
You approach the bar near the back of the room and order a glass of iced water for now. You may need the courage of alcohol later, but you need a clear mind for a little while. Taking the drink with a thanks, you wander over to rose colored wall. Leaning against it, you watch people wander in, laughing and talking with one another, enjoying the day. You sip your drink and count the amount of people you know.
Only about ten people, not that that surprises you. Most of the guests seem to be New Yorkers. Whenever one of the people you know ventures close to the bar, you bow your head and busy yourself with adjusting your dress or fixing the roses in the vase near you. No one approaches you, to your relief.
Not until a man, for whatever reason, approaches you, stepping in front of you when you look at the hem of your dress and tug it down.
Thanks to @left-cheek-sneak who gave me this prompt: Going to a farmers
market or something similar, finding something strange. (to the two anons who also left prompts: THANK YOU! I’ll try to get to them, too, at some point)
“Mulder, why are we at a flea
market?” Scully stands there like a reluctant child; she’s wearing casual
clothes, or at least clothes she herself considers causal. Mulder looked her up
and down when he picked her up, smiling knowingly and receiving a raised
eyebrow in return. He himself is wearing plain jeans and a rumpled t-shirt.
Maybe that eyebrow had been for his poor choice of attire. She crosses her arm in
front of her chest now; casual is gone and replaced by professional. No matter
what she’s wearing.
“The other day you asked me if I
ever did anything just for fun.” Mulder shrugs.
“You go to flea markets for
“Would you rather we go to a
farmer’s market?” She stares at him and eventually shakes her head no.
“See. This is fun. You can find
the most amazing treasures here, Scully. Just you wait and see. So are you
coming or not?”
“I should have asked you where we
were going when you picked me up.” She says and it sounds like an endless
sigh causing him to grin; Mulder thinks about taking her hand, but decides
against it. At least for now. They fall into step easily and their shoulders
bump once or twice as they make their way through the well-attended market. Of
course Scully stops at every booth to admire second hand trash. Mulder fidgets
next to her, or when he gets really impatient, behind her and looks over her
shoulder (she hates that), to make her move on. He knows where he wants to go and
what he wants to show her. Old vases and dishes are not interesting to him.
“Hm, Mulder this really was a
great idea. We should do this every Sunday.” Scully muses when she finally
tears herself away. Mulder considers taking her hand again, contemplating the
implications of what she’s just said. When she starts moving away from him once
again, he just grabs it without a second thought.
“Hm?” He doesn’t let go of
her hand and she is more or less forced to follow him. She squeezes his hand
and he slows his steps, looks at her.
“What was that just now?”
“You taking my hand and dragging
me away. I wanted to look at those paintings.”
“You already looked at
paintings.” He is trying to get going again, but she’s not having it. She
tugs at his hand with a surprisingly strong force (he’s not really surprised,
though) and gives him a stern look.
“But those are different
paintings. Why are you in such a hurry? I thought we were doing this for
“Yeah, we are,” Mulder
grumbles and lets her lead him back to the booth with a wide variety of
paintings. Even as she sorts through the pictures, some of them framed, she
doesn’t let go of his hand. He wonders if she’s worried that he’s just going to
wander off if she lets go or if she wants to hold his hand – in public, no less.
Mulder is not going to question it, he decides, and tries to be as still as
possible beside her. Boredom creeps up on him soon and he shuffles his feet
when Scully gasps.
“Mulder, look at this.” He
does. It’s a painting of two people. He stares at it, looks closely at the
people, at her, and back at the painting.
“What am I supposed to see?”
“Don’t these two people remind you
“No. Should they?” Scully
sighs, lets go of his hand, and points at the man in the painting.
“Look, Mulder. He looks just like
“He does?” Mulder squints; is
that really how Scully sees him?
“Yes. And this,” she points
to the woman standing next to the man refuses to see as himself, “this
looks like me.” Mulder squints – again – and tries to see what she’s
“I think I want to buy it.”
She muses, tracing the painted faces.
“You could just put up a picture
of us.” The words just tumble out of him as he tries to make sense of this
painting and he blushes. Why would she put up a picture of them? So she can
tell her dates that look, here’s a picture of me and my work partner? Yeah,
“There are no pictures of us,
Mulder,” Scully tells him, snipping her fingers to attract the seller,
“at least none that weren’t taken at a crime scene. How much is this
painting?” She asks when the young man approaches them. Mulder doesn’t
care for the guy’s grin and stands closer to Scully.
“How about $50?”
“What?” Mulder basically
“I’ll give you $20.” Scully
tells him; her voice lets him, and Mulder, know that she is not accepting
anything else. The young man swallows hard and nods.
“You know, you kind of look of my
grandmother,” the young man say as Scully searches through her purse for
the money; she shoots him a surprised look and his face takes on the color of a
ripe tomato, “in the painting that uhm, those are my grandparents. They
were painted by my great-aunt. You look like her,” he chances a look at
Mulder and his eyes grow huge for a moment, “you both do.”
“Thank you.” There’s a smile
in Scully’s voice as she hands over the money and motions for Mulder to carry
“I told you. They look like
us.” She gently elbows him.
“I still don’t understand why you
want a painting of us in your home.”
“So you admit it looks like
us?” Scully stops Mulder to admire the painting again. If only she’d look
at the real him the same way. Not that the man in the painting was him. Or
looked like him.
“No, I don’t,” Mulder admits.
“Then why do you worry about
it?” Scully cuts him off, tilting her head.
“I’m not worried, Scully, I
“You just what?”
“This is not how I expected this
to go. Should we just kiss to break the tension?” It’s a joke, obviously,
but Scully startles and she lets go of the painting. Mulder, in an almost
ninja-like move, catches it before it crashes to the ground.
“I saved us.” He tells her.
“You said it didn’t look like
us.” Scully takes it from him again, her cheeks slightly flushed. He
shouldn’t have mentioned kissing, he figures, but he can’t find it in himself
to feel too bad about it. He thinks about kissing her way too often, after all,
and they’re on duty; apparently his brain is on weekend modus, too.
“All right, it might look like us
a little bit. Happy now?”
“Very.” She grins at him.
“Let’s put it into the car. You can help me put it up.”
“But Scully,” Mulder whines,
following her anyway, “We haven’t been to my favorite booth yet!”
“You can show me next week,
“Are you serious?” He asks,
falling into step with her.
“Am I ever not serious?”
P.S. When I was in Iceland last year, I saw a painting in a shop that I swear looked like M&S. I guess it was partly inspired by that.
◦ request: Is it ok if I ask for an hyungsik smut with a thicker girl who’s a friend of his friend who’s protective of her and doesn’t want him with her cause she not his type and he loves to flirt with other girls but he’s attracted to her and then they sneak away to have sex with after care and pillow talk cause she insecure about her body that he doesn’t actually like her cause she’s not the ideal type…..
Hihi can I request a Hyungshik smut with him being a cocky but kind chaebol? Something like his character in The Heirs or High Society!
◦ a/n: Guys I have gotten like six hyungsik smut requests LOL we all whipped; on another note, I swear y’all are like some weird ass mind readers; you always end up requesting something that I half jotted down already xD I sort of changed it up a little - enjoyyy! (Also sorry this took forever I got swamped with work cause midterms; hopefully the length makes up for it?? tbh idk what i wrote)
I can’t say I was surprised. It had hardly been ten minutes and the idiot had gone and ditched me. It happened every time, and every time I sat at the table with a drink that wasn’t strong enough in hand, scanning the crowds for him. No wonder he didn’t have a girlfriend.
Rolling my eyes, I sipped the champagne in my glass and set it on the table, welcoming the burn in the back of my throat. It was already close to empty. Leaning back in my chair, my eyes darted through the room. The place was lit with dim yellow lights, regal almost. The floor scattered with men in suits and ties and women in extravagant dresses. My brother had somewhat of a knack for these social gatherings. Despite that, he lacked the decency to keep a girlfriend for longer than a month and naturally the one that seemed perfect who stuck longer than that was only after his wealth. He turned into hyper social butterfly, but wouldn’t let anyone get close to him. I couldn’t blame him for being upset, but still, whatever demon possessed him to start taking me as his plus one to these stupid company celebrations was beyond me.
“How is it that I always find you alone?” A familiar voice floated through the nuisance of the party, standing a couple feet away. He held his own glass of champagne in his hand, also almost empty. He looked as dashing as ever, the suit kissing his figure in all the right ways. Ah, Park Hyungsik, what a fine creature.
AU: Victor and Yuuri meet at Skate America in Detroit before the Sochi GPF
Yuuri would recognize him anywhere.
(Not just by his looks but by the way that the world follows him–eyes, crowds, even the air, gravitating towards Victor Nikiforov as he walks with a stride that makes him look as though he’s skating whether he’s on the ice or not.)
He’s about to skate, with Victor Nikiforov watching.
And he holds his breath, but it’s not enough. He tries to blink, tries to make this feel less surreal, but it’s not enough. Celestino seems to understand, squeezing his shoulder and suggesting he go take a moment to settle himself before he begins warming up for his short program.
Yuuri heads to the bathroom, leans over the sink and splashes water on his face. He breathes, in and out, deep, and tries to focus on his own reflection.
When a toilet flushes.
A stall opens.
And, just like that, there he is. Yuuri supposes the most surprising part about his appearance is the lack of dramatic music, the fact that a red carpet isn’t being rolled out in front of his feet. No, Victor Nikiforov is simply washing his hands, and he glances to his left, sees Yuuri and smiles. Smiles.
(Yuuri hears the music, then. It’s in his head, but he hears it.)
“Good luck,” Victor says, scrubbing underneath his nails.
Yuuri forces his jaw shut, figures he looks like a fish gaping like that. “You… You too…” His voice trembles, he hates it. “Not that… Not that you need it.”
He grabs some paper towels, begins drying off his hands. “What makes you say that?”
“Everyone needs luck,” Victor says, and as he passes by he purposefully brushes his fingers across Yuuri’s bicep, one eyebrow raised as a challenge. “See you on the ice.”
Summary: Dan had always been one for making bold fashion choices. And Phil had always played along with the resulting hype. But one fashion choice made by Dan-a certain pair of ripped jeans-changed Phil’s reaction for the first time.
Warnings: Nothing I can think of lol
Notes: Heyo anon who got me out of my writing slump-this is the fic for your prompt about Dan’s jeans pic having Phil flustered! I hope you like it, and if so, feel free to drop another prompt in my ask-this one was great and much appreciated!
Hope you all like it! If you want a specific fic, feel free to drop a request or prompt into my ask box at any point:) (And to the anons who’ve already sent in prompts-they are in progress and should be out soon!)
It was early enough that the sun wasn’t quite risen yet. Dean blinked up at the ceiling, stretching and only half-awake. Beside him, a lingering warmth still clung to the sheets. Soft footfalls padded away from the room towards the other side of the house.
Dean didn’t move to get up, preferring to lounge lazily across the bed. His absent companion’s scent still clung to the pillows, and though Dean would never in a million years admit it to Sam or anyone else, he was absolutely the type to go a little sappy and bury his face in his lover’s pillow.
It was the quiet sounds of the kitchen radio that finally roused him enough to get up. Pulling on a shirt against the morning chill, Dean made a quick stop at the bathroom before wandered into the kitchen to find Cas, drowsily making coffee. He walked over, wrapping Cas in an embrace, tucking his face into Cas’s shoulder. Cas hummed in appreciation, pressing back into Dean.
Dean could practically hear Cas’s smile as he spoke.
“Sometimes you’re a real angel.”
Cas snorted, passing over a mug. Dean, still wrapped around him, freed one hand to take it. No way was he letting go of Cas this early, even for coffee.
“The amazing part is how you still think that’s funny.”
“Hey, I’m hilarious.”
“I’d use the word deluded, but alright.”
“Fuck off,” Dean laughed out.
“Fuckin’ rude. And after I made you coffee.”
Dean only wiggled his eyebrows, taking a long drink. Cas rolled his eyes, hiding a smile behind his own mug as he turned to face Dean.
The early dawn light lit up the room with a pinkish glow, making everything look soft and unreal. Dean leaned back, eyes tracing over Cas all sleep-rumpled. He was human looking, hair a mess and slouching back against the counter and dressed in no more than an old shirt of Dean’s and a pair of boxers, but he so much more than that too. Grace and light and energy, a storm – a star! – all folded into this small body with only invisible wings left trailing out, and he still drank coffee every morning like an addict. He slept in Dean’s bed every night like it was a luxury, stealing the duvet every time and hell it was so perfect Dean didn’t even care.
« He will be there tonight » say Sherlock, his finger crossed on his favorite chair. « What am I supposed to do in this? » « You know » he gesture with his hands « For god sake » « Just, you know, charm him, distract him.. » « Why am I doing it refresh my mind » Sherlock stopped and put his face extremely close to yours, your nose almost touching « It’s the only way » he stand up and put his dressing gown correctly « He’s a sociopath but he’s a gentleman » « I’m so relieve right now » « You’ll be in listening don’t you worry » « And then what? » « I’ve got it under control » « You know » you stand up and catch your bag « it would be much more EASY IF YOU TOLD ME THE ALL PLAN » « This man reads mind, I can’t ». You sight « Well i’m off » « Where are you going » You opened the door of the 221B flat « find me a descent dress to charm a sociopath » you shout waving your hand and closed the door behind you.
At 7p.m you enter the flat, Watson checking his tie in the mirror « Ah Y/N you look lovely » « You too John, is he ready? » « Yes » scream Sherlock from his room
« Hat? » ask Watson Sherlock give him a bored look and then present you his hand, you took the micro and put it in your left hear.
Out of the cab you walk into the magnificent house, big names well dressed everywhere. « Sir your name please » request a man in the hall with a notebook in front of him. « Holmes » « Holmes like… » « Yes that’s right Gibbons, thank you » Mycroft appear behind him. We all follow him and took a glass of champagne on the way. « So it is you? » he looked at you, all the way. « Are you sure she’s his type? » « How the fuck am I supposed to know Moriarty’s type of girl… person. » « Quiet sherlock » warn him Watson « Ok Y/N are you sure of you? » You left your long dress a little and show a knife holding at your thight , Mycroft smile extra hard. “Very James Bondish” comment Watson « She’s definitely his type »
You walk alone the huge dancing room, trying to catch him in the crowd, he was as quiet as a shadow. You put your ass on a chair and grab your third glass of champ. You murmured to yourself « I can’t find him » « Keep looking » respond Sherlock in your hear. Your turn from your chair. « Easy » a low but manly voice stop you. A little smirk on his face, James bloody Moriarty was looking extremely good in a black suit with a white bow. « Oh i’m so clumsy » you said, with a little laugh “Oh my..” comment Sherlock. The song change a little and he offers you his hand, you grab it he lead you to the center of the room. You put your hand on his shoulder and he place his on your waist. In a soft and light foot, you two start dancing in perfect coordination. « So who are you with tonight » « Can’t a lady can be here by his own? » « I know everyone in this room sweetheart, except you » « flirt with him » say sherlock, watson need some time « And you wanted to know me more then? » « Stop me if i’m pushing it too far » he say with an other marvelous smile « Pleasure all mine » « Did you enjoyed your evening? » « Champagne make it better » you casually reply « Oh, is there a place you want to be other than this, with a boyfriend maybe? » You smirk « no » « Are you sure? » You left a eyebrow, he search your face « he his analyzing you » yelled sherlock, « say something » « I feel like there is someone.. someone hiding » he look deep into your eyes, still dancing in circle, and for a minute you couldn’t say a word, completely amazed by him « Hiddin’?, that’s an odd things to say » you cough « Is that so? » He makes you turn and squeeze you harder, turning his head to your left, his mouth close to your face, your heart beating real fast. « It’s no good » say sherlock “move” put your all body was his possession. Moriarty took a strand of your hair and put it behind your ear, he whisper « Even for you Sherlock this is such a lame move, come on » his voice makes you shiver. « leave » said then Sherlock. He then, face you again and you feel his hand sliding down your legs. « I’m not even speaking of the knife you have attached on your leg » your body shiver even more at his touch and you blame yourself, and Sherlock, he was not to underestimate, not now and he will never be. « Are you aware of the razor blade I’m hidding in my bra ?» you fire back « Oh sweetheart, you don’t wear a bra » he said with a moan. The song end and he release your hand and put his in his pocket casually. « A pleasure miss y/l/n , my salutation to Mr Holmes » With a last and charming look, he turn away into the crowd.
im doing 7s route and i love him but he's really going overboard pushing mc away like he is ;its really darn upsetting? could we get some angst or smth where mc sneaks out of the apartment because she can't stand being there with mean seven anymore?
Author’s note: MY FIRST MINI FIC SERIES!!! ENJOY & FEEL FREE TO GIVE ME FEED BACK!!!
Short: You’re a tattoo artist for a gang known as EXO who own a club down town. (read synopsis at masterpost) Words: 5940 Warnings: Sexual references? Fighting, blood, injuries, FORESHADOW CENTRAL YAYA. Pairings: D.O. x Reader, slight Kai X Reader A/N: LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! nope i did not tell anyone i was dropping this today, not even you @oh-beyond whoops!
When an opportunity strikes where you get to be with the guy you’re maybe interested in for a whole night, and get to dress up a little sexy without it seeming weird, you should always take that opportunity. So right how you were getting ready for a night at the club, picking out an outfit. Was it better to show leg or to show chest in this situation? Chest probably singe you’d be sitting down a lot. From your closet you pulled simple black skinny jeans and strapless top. You had to look the part going to EXO right? Even if you were there to work. Xiumin had called you, asking if you could come over and take a balcony shift. Because Kai had poker night with his ‘colleagues’ so that meant Chen had to take care of the balcony. But since D.O. was injured he couldn’t work downstairs and had to take balcony shift. However, Xiumin didn’t want him to do anything serious with that cut still healing, so he asked you to babysit. And yes, he phrased it like that. “Come take a balcony shift and babysit D.O.” Like you hadn’t done enough by saving his life right? But you liked Kyungsoo, he was nice and good company so you didn’t really mind. You put on your usual makeup, dark but not too thick. Just lining your eyes, filling in your eyebrows and putting on some shade of lipstick that matched your hair. With care, you changed your smiley piercing from a circle to a banana, because you wanted to. The rest of your piercings were well in place, and looked good. The shirt left your collarbones completely exposed and you wondered if you should get them pierced. Like Jongin and Sehun. The annoying sound of your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts and you went to pick it up. “Angel.”
When Cath’s eyes closed, her eyelids stuck. She wanted to open them. She wanted to get a better look at Levi’s too-dark eyebrows, she wanted to admire his crazy, vampire hairline—she had a feeling this was never going to happen again and that it might even ruin what was left of her life, so she wanted to open her eyes and bear some witness.
A/N: This is so long overdue…I am sorry. T^T I have been struggling with college, health issues and some major writer’s block that would not go away. I feel like some parts are lacking compared to other chapters, idk…maybe it’s just me. It actually surprised me to see it has 3k+ words @_@ I am really curious what you think about this one…
Warning: Violence and strong angst ahead…
The feeling of his lips on yours made you
travel to another time. A time when they did not feel so foreign, a time when
they made your heart race just like now, a time when you craved them. You
pushed him away and fell on your bottom as fragments of memories flooded your
mind. Your wide eyes were lost, your parted lips were shaking. It was the same
scene: blood covering his body, you stitching his wounds, the way he looked at
you, his touch. Your eyes were getting watery.
“Y/N…” His voice dragged you back
“What are you doing?” Your voice was
Your eyes widened once again. That voice, that
word, the feeling that came with it, you knew them. Flashbacks were hitting you
from everywhere. It was pure torture. Your hands flew to your head as pain
started to settle in. Your breathing was irregular.
Warning: I wrote and posted this before as “Red Dress” but I revised it and changed the title to “Passion and Rage.” If anyone is reading this, please enjoy the story! Thank you very much! Let’s show our support to the boys, NCT! :)
You looked at your naked
body at the full-length mirror in front of you, you touched your bare face and
gently slapped your cheeks.
Tonight, your family will
hold a big business event, it is a formal party; a party for your father and
his business partners’ success. Since you’re wild tonight, you decided to wear
a long red gown with slit near your upper inner thigh. The fabric is smooth and
body-hugging. It shows off your well-curved body, it reveal your shoulders and
a bit of your cleavage. The red dress is elegant and sexy at the same time, it
suits you very well. As you are, classy and proud.
Red. Red is your color in
months now. It was the only color that may symbolize you since Jaehyun left
you. You still remember that night when he told you that he’s going to leave
you to pursue his dreams. It never occur to you that he might do it, he was
always gentle, caring, and for all you knew, he loved you – but there is always
a different side of the story, and he might not even tell you what is the
reason behind this. That night, you were numb. You didn’t cry as you watch him
turn his back from you. You didn’t chase or went after him as he walked slowly
away from you. The next day, you felt everything. The rush, the pain, the
tears. You had emotional breakdowns after you realized he was gone for his own
good, you had been crying after you realized he left you and didn’t need you
anymore. Again, for the nth time since he had left you, tears fell from your
eyes like the first time – it was always been a bucket of tears when it’s
Jaehyun. You pulled yourself together and wore the dress, put some make up on
and the red killer heels that made you high and mighty.
“You look breath-taking
beautiful today, [Y/N].” Your younger brother, Renjun, in his black tidy suit
said as he was praising you. He was sitting on the couch looking handsome as
ever. “But isn’t your dress too revealing?” He asked innocently.
You raised an eyebrow,
trying to think whether to answer his question or not. “Yes, yes, it is.” You
finally answered. “And you crooked teeth is bothering me, brother. Do shut up.”
You kidded and laugh while he looked at you with deadly shots.
“Quiet now.” Your parents
appeared in front of you two. “Lets go and meet the guests.”
The people in the hall went
on silence when they heard the big doors opened, they started to congratulate
your father’s success. You looked around. Chandeliers are shining, just like
you. The sons of your father’s business allies’ are all looking at you,
appreciating the goddess in red tight dress that was once walked on the red
carpet. Your parents stopped in the center of the hall and bowed, you and
Renjun followed. The exchange of Congratulations and Thank You’s are roaring
around you. As you walked towards the tables that were assigned for you, you
noticed a familiar figure.
At the table that is not
very far from you, there is a man who was looking intensely at you. The body
you longed for, the man you love so much. He was in black sit like many of your
guests, but he looks dashingly good compared to others. He left your gaze as
his father sucked him for a talk. His side profile is what you loved the most,
you are sure it was Jaehyun. It’s Jung Jaehyun, the man who left you months
ago. His hair is now different, you can see that he dyed his hair blonde,
honestly, it made him sexier, the blonde hair suit him as it made him much of a
man than he is when he had black hair. It gave him a mature yet a very good
As soon as you reached the
table, Renjun immediately hugged Jaehyun. Your brother is very fond of him, he
liked him more than you do. They’d team up to piss… that was before. Jaehyun
laughed as soon as Renjun threw himself to Jaehyun’s arms. He talked to your
brother as well, and his voice – his
voice that you crave to hear for months sent shivers to you.
You gained your composure,
making sure he did not notice that he still have this very effect on you and your
body. You sit beside him as it was the only available sit on the round table.
Your parents are busy talking to his, Renjun, your brother and as your
distraction, went to play with the other kids, that left you two quiet and it
turned the atmosphere awkward and eerie.
You felt Jaehyun’s left
hand on your right thigh, messaging it. You breathe deeply. His mere touch cause
every single cell of your body to react.
“Baby,” He leaned towards
you, his lips is very near to your ears. “Who told you to wear this kind of
dress?” He whispered different praises to your ears, but you only prayed for
one thing. Dear God, help me with this.
“Baby, you look wonderful tonight but assholes keeps on looking at you and
obviously hitting on you,” He said as he continued to massage your thighs. “I’m
getting mad.” He, then, slipped his hands in the slit of your dress making
access to your inner thighs.
You were getting uneasy.
“No.” Said Jaehyun with a
serious tone. His hands finally abandoned your thighs before standing up.
“Excuse us, Sirs, Madams.” He nodded before dragging you outside the pavilion
Once you two are outside,
he held your shoulders for you not to face him. “God, I missed you.” Jaehyun
wrapped his hands around your waist and bend over you to shower your bare
shoulders with kisses. He was back-hugging you, like what he do to you when
you’re upset before.
“I’m sorry I left you.” The
word ruined you. Tears streamed down on your face. “I’m so embarrassed, I don’t
even have a face to show you after what I did.” But still, he turned around and
looked at you.
“Explain.” You demanded.
He started spitting out
apologies and reasons. “It was your father’s idea. Months ago, I asked for your
hand on marrying you and your parents’ approval. But your father felt like he
was going to lose you once I marry you. That’s why he told me to prove myself
worthy for him to give me his blessings.” He stopped to wipe your tears, the
silver moonlight is shining in your face, Jaehyun looked at your eyes and
kissed you lips. “You’re even beautiful when you cry, baby. That’s the real
reason why I left you. I had to build my own empire, I had to build my own
company and be successful.”
You smacked his head. Too
angry he didn’t let you know about all of this, too happy he’s back. “I don’t
know what to say,” You held his cheeks, “You’re crying?”
He sobbed. “This party is
not about your father’s business venture, it’s about mine and this is our
engagement party, [Y/N]. Please forgive me.” He fell on his knees and hugged
your legs. “I love you. Marry me.”
“Shhh, don’t cry.” You
pulled him, “Stand up, Jaehyun.” Once he was up on his feet again, you caressed
his face. “Yes, I will marry you.”
“Thank you for forgiving
me.” He kissed you. “Thank you for waiting for me.” He kissed you again. “Thank
you for loving me.” He kissed you again, now even deeper and longer.
And just like that, the
world seemed to disappear. Just like that, you truly felt passion and rage and
desire. Just like that, everything is right.
Note: The smut hasn’t come in yet, because I want the sexual tension between Negan x Reader to get unbearable.
You didn’t see Negan for the rest of the day after that, but you didn’t need to see him, your sore ass was enough of a reminder of him.
You sat in the cafeteria by yourself that night, along with other sanctuary members. You weren’t very hungry, so you just pushed around some food on your plate.
You wondered what Negan was doing now and also wondered why you couldn’t stop thinking of him. Just as you were about to get up to leave Simon approached you, “The boss wants to see you.” He said quickly and kept walking. You turned in the direction he was going, “What for?” You asked curiously, wondering what the fuck you did wrong now.
“I have no idea,” He didn’t even turn around, “I’m going to the chow line, just get going.”
You rolled your eyes and got up and dumped your tray in the trash and made your way out and went to the same room as the other times.
You walked in and Negan was sitting in the chair, feet propped up on the table, cleaning Lucille with a bloody cloth. He kept his eyes fixated on the bat.
“It’s about time, darlin’, I was starting to think I’d have to fucking hunt you down.” He finally looked up and gave you a sly smirk, he sat Lucille in his lap. He gestured to the free chair near the desk, “Go on, darlin’. Have a seat.” He said with a wink.
You winced, because you knew he was poking fun at your current situation.
“I’d rather not.” You answered, looking unamused.
He chuckled and threw his head back, showing straight white teeth, he looked back at you with his dark eyes.
“Yeah, I kinda figured. I fucking tore that ass up. Too bad I can only say it was with this.” He ran a hand seductively along his leather belt, but keep eye contact with you. Seeing his hand running along that region ignited some excitement in you. Damn him.
You let a out a breathe.
“Why did you wanna see me?”
He cleared his throat and got serious, “Since you showed you know how to actually fucking handle yourself, I’m gonna offer you a job.”
“What kind?” You asked in suspicion, eyeing him carefully.
He licked his full lips and smirked, “Doing runs with me.“ He ran a hand through his black hair, "You said you could find shit that no one else could, so let’s put it to the goddamn test, doll.”
You smirked back, “I can do that, it’s just a shame you are giving me the opportunity when I can barely walk.”
He smiled wickely, “Well, who’s fucking fault is that?” You just nodded, not wanting to get another 10 licks from him.. Not at the moment anyway.
“Hell darlin’ maybe I just wanna get you alone for a while. Maybe I like lookin’ at you so goddamn much I wanna take you with me.”
A smile was finally starting to break through on your face, there was still tension between you two, but his charisma was too powerful to keep you mad.
“Holy fuck. Is that a fucking smile I see? Shit.” He said in a fake surprised tone, leaning forward, with his lips parted.
“Why not take Amber?” You smirked.
He saw that you were challenging his authority and he fucking liked it.
He pursed his lips into an “o” shape, seeing that you were trying to see how far you could push his buttons, and goddamn if that didn’t make him want you even more.
He threw his hands behind his head.
“Shit, the only thing that girl is good for is sucking a cock, I don’t know how she survived before I brought her ass in. Not to mention that you fractured her nose in two fucking places.” He smiled, sounding almost proud of you when he said that.
You smiled and had a sense of satisfaction wash over you.
The next morning you met up with Negan beside the black truck, he was wearing his leather jacket and had Lucille propped on his shoulder proudly.
“You ready to get to work?” He asked, opening the passenger side door.
You were even more sore today, but you were powering through it, “Yeah, I’m ready.” He got in on the driver’s side, laying Lucille in between you two - which was way different from the first night when he wouldn’t let her go. You began driving down a long stretch of highway, passing neighborhoods and stores, they all must have been emptied out a while ago since he didn’t bother to look in their direction.
“Do I get a weapon?” You asked bluntly.
He glanced over to you as if you were crazy.
“I’m all the fucking protection you need, baby doll.” He said flexing a leather clad arm.
“So, I don’t get a weapon?”
He rolled his eyes, “Alright, with your fucking broken record already, here-” he dug around in the floorboard and picked up an old rusty crowbar and handed it to you, “take this.”
You grabbed it, but he didn’t let it go, “Look, I still don’t fucking know you that well, so I’m gonna go out on a fucking limb and trust that you’re not gonna try to crack me over the head with that fucker.”
You shook your head, “No, I’m not."He finally loosened his grip on it and let you take it from his gloved hand.
You pulled up to a big store and Negan turned the engine off.
"Alright, we’re gonna go in here and look around for any useful shit. Stay aware of your surroundings, I don’t want a fuckin’ replay of last time.” He said cutting his eyes to you referring to when you got caught by a walker your first night.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You answered back getting out of the truck before he could open your door this time. He got out and walked over beside you, eyeing your surroundings.
“What happens if others show up?” You asked, wondering how well he would handle rivals without the Saviors.
“Where’s your fuckin’ faith, darlin’? You really think I fuckin’ need my men around to get the fuckin’ message across that I’m in charge around here? Their shit will still be mine and if they don’t believe me, Lucille will take care of it.” He said sternly, he had basically read your mind as to what you were thinking.
He headed towards the building and you followed close behind, the crowbar swinging in your hand.
He kicked the glass door to the store in and waited, looking around for any movement. Neither of you heard anything and enterned, majority of the store was emptied, but there were still and few items here and there.
You split up and both walked to opposite ends of the building, you could hear Negan throwing items around and could hear the few stray words of “Fuck”, “Goddamn” and “Shit”. You shook your head, he was destructive with everything and his vocabulary consisted of the word fuck. You walked around, looking for any canned goods, but found none on the shelves except for a stack of old beauty magazines. You heard a loud shatter as glass broke followed by Negan shouting,
“Yeah, break that fucking shit, Lucille. Fucking homerun!” you peeked around the corner to see that he was playing baseball with fucking flower vases, he was like a kid in a candy store throwing up vases and quickly shattering them with Lucille’s barbed end. You snorted with laughter, at least he was entertaining himself.
You got onto your knees and bent down, looking under the shelves and saw a few stray cans of food. You reached under as far as you could to grab them, you ended up being able to get ahold of two cans of beans and soup.
There was a loud whistle, “Damn baby, you should have fuckin’ called me over here sooner to enjoy this sweet ass view.” Negan called as he walked over towards you. You chuckled, biting your lip at the way he talked to you, but not letting him see it. You stuck the cans into your bag,
“I found a few cans of food.”
“Not bad, I actually wasnt exoectinv you to find a fucking thing. This place is pretty much empty, not much here anymore. Doesn’t matter anyway, gonna be paying a visit to your old pal Rick the-fucking-prick soon.”
He was still staring at your ass as you rose slowly off the ground, but picked up one of the magazines on a nearby shelf and glanced at it before he threw it to the side.
“Yeah, I saw you practicing your swings over there. So this was a test or something?” You felt sadness as you remembered the old group. You hadn’t thought about them much since you left, but hoped they were doing fine.
“Lucille isn’t all business. My girl likes to have some fuckin’ fun, too.” He cooed, patting the bat. "And yeah, I didn’t even think about fucking looking under the shelves, but shit, I just felt like fuckin’ bringing you out. The view of your ass was fuckin’ worth it.” He raised his eyebrows in that sexy way that he always does. You shook your head and smiled. This asshole, as ruthless and dangerous as he was, was growing on you, that’s for sure.
Prompt/ Requested by: “ @bitchinskinneyjeans:Hi! I was wondering if you could
write something about Sebastian and the reader teaching each other their other
languages (sign language) and have be really cute and fluffy!”
Pairing: Bucky x Fem-Avenger!Reader
(you know I’m trash for avenger reader oops)
Word count: 887
Warnings: It’s kinda fluff I guess.
A/N: As you may
know I don’t write for the actor but for the character so I talked with this
lovely person who requested it and she was ok with the idea of the prompt being
for Bucky instead. Here’s the fun fact, I don’t know how to speak neither of
these two languages so I’m really sorry if there’s an error or something I did
some research so I was able to write this one down, the Russian words are
written in the phonetic way and the sign language… I did my best to make a good
description. If this is really awful (or in any way disrespectful let me know
Also I’m so sorry that this took so long, but hey better late than never,
right? So with that said… I hope you like it and everyone else enjoy!
|| I don’t own
Bucky Barnes or any of the Avengers, they belong to Marvel. ||
team decided that they wouldn’t need neither Bucky nor Y/N leaving them both in
the Avengers base to do some missions reports and that kind of job. Knowing
that it would be a very long mission they started right away.
sitting in the chair across the table from where Bucky was, both sharing a
comfortable silence and a few winks, or even smirks.
knew that they had some cute tension between us, both feeling something for the
other but too stubborn like to say a thing.