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upsidedownwithsteve · 5 months

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[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as we’re v tired and v sick and writing doesn’t sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.

Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didn’t add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. “We can stop, if you want.” His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. “It’s okay.”

But you’d asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steve’s bed sheets ‘cause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend you’d never had an orgasm?

“What?” He’d asked, face soft with shock. “What about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?”

“Lewis,” you’d corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. “And no, he just couldn’t get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. It’s gotta be me, I can’t even make it happen myself.”

Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes ‘cause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment you’d felt in admitting such a thing.

“It’s not you,” he’d said, determined. “He should’ve taken his time with you or— or, found out what you liked.”

You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. “How’s that fair when I don’t even know what I like myself?”

You don’t know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steve’s blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.

You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boy’s cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.

You sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m just— being stupid. We can keep going.”

You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch you’d felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasn’t him, when he’d argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.

“Are you sure?” Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. “And you’re not stupid. This, the way you feel. It’s not stupid, okay?”

You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. He’d once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and he’d proven it true ever since.

“Yeah, m’sure.” You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. “Thanks, Steve.”

A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. ‘Cause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when you’d bent your knees and sat between Steve’s legs. He’d patted the space there and your body had burned, but you’d obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.

“So you’ve never, ever—?”

“No,” you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. “Can't even manage it myself… it’s— fuck, I don’t know.” You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. “S’okay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?”

He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess. It’s just— I either get interrupted or it doesn’t feel right and then the times when it does, I just can’t… can’t. You know.”

“Finish?” Steve supplied helpfully.

You nodded again.

“Okay, uh, why don’t you— do you wanna, try? Show me?” You heard him swallow audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.

You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old who’d picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. “Do you trust me?”

You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I trust you.” You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, ‘cause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.

“We can stop whenever you want, alright?” Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. “Show me.” Steve whispered again. “Show me what you do.”

It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steve’s and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.

Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didn’t come across as reprimanding as it should’ve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.

“You normally just dive right in like that?” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. “Christ, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.”

“I do?”

Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasn’t unkind, it didn’t make you shrink like you thought it would’ve. “Well, yeah,” Steve answered. “You gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasn’t anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?”

“Putty?” Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You know, all gooey n’shit. Nice. Relaxed.” Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. “You’re real cute, babe, someone’s gotta treat you the same way.”

“No,” you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, ‘cause Steve’s hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. “You think I’m cute?”

You weren’t sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.

“You kiddin’?” Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. “You’re the cutest girl in town, d’you not know that?”

You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.

“Now, if you’re the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,” he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. “Don’t you think you gotta be nice to yourself?”

Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.

“I don’t think I know how.” It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldn’t see.

His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. “Like this,” the boy whispered. “See? Nice and sweet. Slow.”

You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steve’s rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. “Ah, ah, c’mon. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”

There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didn’t dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.

“C’mon, you got this.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. “Relax, remember?”

So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steve’s short nails.

“What d’you think about?” He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you weren’t supposed to tell anyone else about. “When you touch yourself? What d’you think about?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.

“I dunno,” your voice didn’t sound like your own. “Someone else, I guess. Someone’s fingers, instead of my own. Being— being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.”

If Steve’s hips twitched up into your own, you were sure you’d imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.

“S’good,” he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. “What about their mouth, huh? Where d’you want it?”

You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didn’t answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.

“Here?” The boy suggested. He wasn’t really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. “Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.

“That’s a real shame, you know that?” Steve’s hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.

It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.

“It is?” You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.

“Fuck, yeah it’s a shame, babe.” Steve whispered. “Told you, didn’t I? You’re the sweetest girl there is. And someone’s not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?” Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. “That’s just unfair.”

“Steve.” You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.

But Steve seemed to know, ‘cause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. “Yeah?” He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. “Ready for more? Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.

Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldn’t be close enough.

“Want these off?” You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can do whatever—”

You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steve’s thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steve’s bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.

Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one you’d stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.

“What next?” You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than you’d ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. “Should I just—?”

Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone ‘cause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. “Fuck,” his voice cracked. “Just, uh, do what feels good, yeah?”

You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.

“Hey, hey, s’alright,” Steve assured you, whispering again. “Give me your hand.”

You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steve’s fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boy’s - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.

“Yeah?” Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. “That good?”

You could barely speak. “Yeah,” you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.

“Atta’ girl, keep doin’ that, okay?”

You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steve’s fingers slip between your own. Steve’s free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you weren’t sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.

“D’you use your fingers?” Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. “Inside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?”

Twenty minutes ago, you would’ve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steve’s cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.

“Not really,” you whispered to him, ‘cause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. “Don’t feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.”

Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, ‘cause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. “Poor girl,” he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. “Shh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?”

You didn’t get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.

Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldn’t be misconstrued as a kiss.

You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.

“Steve,” you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. You’d have normally given up by now. “Steve, s’not working.”

“Gotta be patient, babe,” Steve assured you, “gotta be nice to yourself, c’mon, don’t let your head take over.”

But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where you’d chewed at them, eyes all glassy.

He shouldn’t have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?

Right?

“Want me to help?”

He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. “You gotta tell me, please?”

“Please, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.”

He’d died. He was dead.

But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where they’d been inside of yourself and Steve wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.

He was rock fucking hard.

“Ready?” He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didn’t dare ask you to speak again. “Okay, I’ve got you, alright?”

His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boy’s finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that you’d never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.

“More?” Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop and Steve wanted to tell you he’d never stop if you didn’t want him to, that he’d do this every fucking day if you’d let him. “Another?”

“Another,” you agreed and god, you weren’t holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.

Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.

“Touch yourself, babe,” he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. “That’s it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.”

You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasn’t a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. “You do, don’t you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”

Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.

“Would you let me do that? Huh?” Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. “Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. “Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look—”

You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that he’d think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.

Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to know—

“You comin’, babe? Yeah?” You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. “Fucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it—”

He wasn’t even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.

Your eyes finally met Steve’s when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.

“Holy fucking shit,” you managed on a gasp.

“Told you,” he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.

“What?” You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. “Told me what?”

Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.

“Sweetest girl in this fucking town,” he said.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot

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bkgml · 1 year

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phone calls with kats !!

you’re rudely awaken by your phone going off like it’s nobody’s business.

“ugh.. fuck off.” you groan, hand tapping at your nightstand in search of your phone.

once you finally grab hold of it your eyes scrunch up from the blinding light of the screen.

you whine lightly, eyes adjusting and clicking the green ‘answer call’ button.

“hello?” you croak out.

“…hey.” you hear from the other line.

you jolt up from bed.

“katsuki?! why are you calling? did something happen? are you okay?!” your mind races a mile a minute. he wouldn’t call you at this hour unless it was important.

“i’m fine, sweets. ‘m sorry for making you worry.” he says quietly.

you pause.

“why’re you calling me kats, did something happen?” you say, now calmed from your previous panic.

you hear a sigh from the other line. it sounds tense and tight in his throat, almost painful.

you let the words come to him, knowing forming words to match his emotions isn’t one of his strong suits, yet.

“just missing you.” he sighs again, to stop tears from forming in his eyes (but he won’t tell you that part).

“i miss you too, suki. you just gotta keep working, yeah? this missions important.” you soothe.

“uh huh.” he says, voice cracking ever so slightly.

“i love you. my big strong man protecting everyone. makes me wanna give you a big kiss as thank you when you come back to me.”

“yeah? you think i’m the strongest, huh? city would be nothin without your man, right?” you hear his grin through his response.

“oh the way to a man’s heart, his ego.” you laugh lightly.

he stays silent while listening to your laugh fizzle out.

stays silent while he listens to your breathing.

stays silent as he listens to you laying back down into the comfort of your bed.

“wish i was there with my sweet girl though.”

you smile lightly, trying to keep him motivated.

“i know, baby, but it’ll feel better after catching your bad guys, more rewarding.”

he goes quiet once more as he thinks.

“i guess you’re right.” he admits begrudgingly.

“i am.” you smile.

he hears you yawn.

“i shouldn’t have woke you.” he frowns.

“i have the day off tomorrow, and even if i didn’t i’d be happy you called, i’ve been missing you too.”

“yeah?” he replies, sounding more longful than he hoped.

“course, kats. love you more than anythin. i should let you sleep though.” you say.

“wait.” he says, urgently.

you do and he sighs.

“can you stay on the phone until i fall asleep?” he grumbles.

“uh huh!” you smile.

“do you wanna facetime so i can see that handsome face?”

he doesn’t reply but you get a request to switch the call to facetime pop up on your screen.

“hi, pretty boy.” you smile.

you watch his brows furrow slightly, faking disgust.

“don’t call me that shit.” he frowns.

“shh. you’re supposed to be going to sleep.”

his frown deepens and he sighs before closing his eyes.

“only a week more. you’re gonna spend your days kicking ass and taking names kats.” you smile as you ramble on quietly.

“my man is going to protect the whole country. all my friends at work are going to be soooo jealous.”

you see him smile slightly, keeping his eyes still closed.

“and then when you’re done doing the job you love you’re going to get on a plane and come see me and all your friends. i might give you a big welcome back party with your friends from high school and your parents.”

you see him frown lightly and you can tell he’s trying his best to listen to you but he’s drifting off so fast.

“but i don’t know, i might have to be selfish and keep you all to myself your first night back. maybe i’ll cook you a nice dinner, your favourite. i could make it extra spicy just for you. or we could order takeout and cuddle up close on the couch while we watch a movie you make fun of the whole time, even though i know you’re enjoying yourself.”

you see his consciousness fade away as you ramble on about all the things you’ll do together when he gets back.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki <3

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daddyricsdoll · 3 months

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Stream ✭ Lando Norris

Summary: Lando had left you to stream Fortnite, and a hint of jealously sparked inside of you. But the thought of making him regret that choice, for now and the future, held a more prominent standing.

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving). I think that's all, surprisingly.

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: Based off of this! I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Lando’s voice becomes the only thing breaking the tranquillity throughout the house as he turns on his stream. Saying hi to the chat and explaining his small plan of playing fortnite after he claimed to never dare to touch that game.

Which also has the smallest sense of jealousy to enter me. The fact he left me for the game, but he should know I like getting things I want and right now the thing I want is him. And I’ll be sure to get him, even if it means risking a lot.

I take quiet steps into the room, making sure I wasn’t seen by the camera or him just yet. Admiring his features and how gorgeous he looked right now. But then I think about what could’ve happened if he didn’t leave me to stream. How he would’ve been deep inside of me, both our moans filling the house.

Lando finally notices me standing on the side, giving me a questioning look as I reply with an innocent glance to his lips followed by a sultry smirk. I place one finger over my lips, teasing him to be silent. Then I slowly make my way to the ground. Going on all fours I crawl toward his body, finding comfort between his two legs and beneath the desk.

I watch him fight to keep his eyes on his game and act normal as I lightly brush my hand across his upcoming bulge. Forcing the band of his pants down, underwear too and letting his dick out. I let my breath graze it and watch the precum that occupies his tip. He’s fully erect and the little movement of Lando’s hips tells me he needs some contact. Holding the base of his dick I tease him. Leaving kisses along his shaft and smiling to myself when I hear him try to suppress a moan.

My tongue circles around his tip, making the contact light, not firm so he knows there’s more, but also that I don’t plan on just giving it to him. His hips writhe in his seat, telling chat that he needs to adjust his seating. As he moves his thick cock does more than brush against my mouth, making it so hard for me to ignore.

While he whimpers I lick a stripe up the backside of his dick. An involuntary groan cuts into his whimper and I squeeze my thighs together. Heat growing stronger in the pit of my stomach at each second that he makes another noise or juts his hips eager for more.

Once he controls his breathing I find it no better time to finally take him in my mouth. Licking over the tip and then lowering my head onto his cock.

An impulsive moan escapes his mouth and his hand instantly comes to cup the back of my head and push me lower onto his dick, keeping me in place while he hits the back of my throat. In response to that I let out a muffled moan, making the same noise leave Landos lips as he bites on his hand.

Soon going back to playing Fortnite and ignoring the chat as I start bobbing my head up and down at a quick pace. Whimpers and moans pouring out of his mouth. I take a second to look at him as he bites his bottom lip so hard I’d think it would draw blood.

Moving back down his cock my hands slide under his shirt and slide across his skin, scratching his lower back and then gripping his thighs. My mind was clouded as my cheeks were hollowed out and I made certain that my lips were wrapped around him.

I don’t keep a consistent pace, going slow then getting the reaction of his hips forcing his dick down my throat or when I’d go fast he’d try to control me with his hand. Both ways generating pornographic sounds.

He fails to ignore his chat, all asking the same questions.

“Who is making him moan like that????!!!”

“What is happening?”

“Does he know we know?”

I hear Lando curse under his breath before he says the quickest goodbye to everyone watching and turns his stream off in seconds. Once the cameras off he creates a makeshift ponytail with my hair and he roughly starts controlling my head down his length. Making the tears ultimately leave my eyes and my moans whines become short and hushed by his cock.

“Fuuuuuck” He starts cursing as his dick spasms, just moments before he spills in my mouth. Arms flexed beside while his hands hold the back of his head that’s tilted toward the ceiling. Lando bites his lip before looking down at me, finding my eyes already on him. My mascara clearly not waterproof and lips swollen.

“I don’t expect you to leave me for a stream again.” I state, clear and straightforward in advance to silently standing up and slowly striding away from him. I smirk to myself, proud and certain of the thoughts running through his head. Too caught up in my thoughts that I don’t hear the sound of his weight leaving his chair.

Large hands grip my waist and I feel the warmth of Lando’s body against the back of mine.

“Remember who you’re talking to or I’ll fuck the words out of your mouth.”

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jongseongsnudes · 9 months

Text

fuck buddy

fwb!jake. 0.6k.

“no offence mr sim... but you’re really bad at this.”

your comment only makes the man chuckle, obviously not fazed by it at all.

you couldn’t help but glance at the clock, seeing how you were gradually getting later and later for your dinner plans with friends. in fact you’ve been sitting on the bathroom counter with your legs hanging off the side for the past hour, letting jake ‘help’ you fix your make up after ruining it earlier in the bedroom.

but the poor man wasn’t doing a very good job, taking a whole half an hour to do your eyeliner... and he was still not done.

“i’m trying love, trying really hard.”

the little pout on his face has you wanting to kick your feet and squeal like a little girl, the mere sight being one of the many reasons why this man was so popular. jake sim was just so charming, so endearing, so ridiculously good looking that it constantly had you questioning how the man even became your fuck buddy in the first place.

but hey, you weren’t complaining, not when you got to see this face over and over.

“i know jake... that’s why i told you i can do it myself.”

“but i like helping you.”

the man was evidently struggling but you let him be, not having the heart to stop him anymore. you’re already late anyway.

“you’ve done my liner for me before. doesn’t usually take you this long,” you chuckle while watching him so focused on drawing your liner, the little furrow in his brows the cutest thing you've ever seen, “i’m starting to think you’re doing it bad on purpose.”

you were only kidding but the silence that follows, along with the sudden appearance of his cheeky grin tells you perhaps you weren’t all that wrong.

“maybe i am,” he smiles at you and leans in, his body now comfortably settled in between your spread legs. your own hands find a spot on his chest, your fingers softly playing with the material of his oversized shirt. the way his gaze falls to your lips definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you, something you naturally find yourself mirroring.

“and why would you do that?”

your words had barely left your lips when jake closes the gap between you and him completely, kissing you so gently that your heart immediately bursts into a million butterflies. the sound of your liner pencil hitting the floor echoes through the quiet bathroom but you couldn’t care less, especially not when he was kissing you.

his hands are quick to grab your waist, easily pulling your body flush against his as he deepens the kiss.

“so you don’t go to your dinner plans,” his voice is so soft against your lips, his low tone already doing wonders to your body, “stay with me tonight?”

“you should’ve just asked mr sim, we wasted an hour in here.”

“no such thing as a waste when it’s with you,” he leans in to place a cute kiss on the tip of your nose before carrying you up entirely into his arms, a familiar sweet smile now on his lips.

the very same sweet smile that always has your heart fluttering for your fuck buddy.

end.

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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huskersbooze · 1 month

Text

Sick

Alastor x Reader

Summary : You get sick and Alastor keeps you company <3

Warnings : Swearing(lots of it)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : ALASTOR POV CUZ YES. Sick reader, implied relationship, h/c, fluff, comfort

Word count : 1.01k

“Hey, you alright, kid?” Husk tilts his head to the side, wiping down the last glass of the day.

You don’t respond. Instead, you’re staring off into the distance, dozing off in your own world.

“Kid?”

“Huh? What?” You finally snap out of your thoughts.

“Geez, ya’ look like hell.” Husk acknowledges. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I don’t think so?”

“Go rest. I’ll work alone today.”

“What? No! I’m fine I swear-” Before you’re able to finish your sentence, Husk flips you off.

“Bullshit. Go find your radio boyfriend.”

“Don’t bullshit me-”

You try arguing but Husk only smirks when he catches a glimpse of Alastor who’s appeared right behind you.

“Well, I just did.” He says. “Now stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn I-”

You feel a hand being put to your forehead and try to fight back, only to realise it was Alastor.

“High fever.” He lets go. “You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh, fuck you, Al.”

“We’ll fuck when you’re better, darling.”

You blush. Alastor grins. Husk tries to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails.

“You’re sick and you need rest, my dear. Come along.”

“I’m fine-”

Alastor can only sigh, picking you up as you yelp.

“This is completely, and utterly, your fault single-handedly.” He smiled as you pouted. “You're very much welcome, darling.”

“Whatever.”

-----

You managed to escape Alastor as he leaves to mess with Vox. (Ep2 lmao)

Upon returning to the bar, Husk was not pleased to see your ass out of bed, emphasising on how important sleep was to someone sick.

You couldn’t care less.

Though, after wiping down a few more bottles with him, your eyes doze off and your eyelids feel droopy.

“Kid?”

The world spins and fades away.

“Fuck! Kid, ya’ alright?! Alastor!”

-----

[Alastor’s pov]

I heard a little groan as my eyes widened.

"Darling." I whispered, hoping not to startle her.

"Al..?" She breathed out.

"Good morning." I joked, though so grateful she was now awake.

"Wha.. What time is it?" She asked, struggling to get up.

"Be careful." I ushered, helping her sit. "I'm not so sure myself. It's very late at night."

"Where am I?" She asked, finally waking up as she stopped slurring through her words.

"My room. ‘I’m not sick’ my arse." I replied.

"Oh. Well, I guess you and Husk were right. I just thought I was a little sick." She murmured.

"You are sick." I replied. "Just worse than you expected."

"Real humorous, Al." She gave a small, yet weak, giggle.

Silence filled the air between us, and we didn't say anything else after that. That was, until she gave a small sneeze. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but seeing it was late at night and so quiet, it was hard not to notice.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I could barely make out the silhouette of her nodding lightly. Without hesitating, I took off my coat and handed it over to her. "Better?"

"A lot. Thanks, Al." She replied. After another few seconds of silence, she spoke up once more. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

"You do remember your dear partner does not need, nor does he enjoy, sleep?"

"Excuse, excuses." She joked, earning a chuckle from me.

"I can't really sleep now." She suddenly says out of nowhere. One thing I really like about this girl, she says the most random things in the most random situations. "Could we do something else?"

"Are you trying to get me killed?" I laughed. "You need to rest."

"I'm aware. That's the initial plan, anyways." She joked. At least, I hoped she was joking.

"You sneaky little deer."

"Yes. That's me. Hello." She replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed as she proceeded to look at me in the dark room. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here at the Hotel is actually powerful enough to kill you.”

"Very well, then. What do you have in mind?"

“Some jazz and cuddles would be nice.”

-----

She chokes on another cough.

"Are you sure you're alright? You should really rest in such vulnerable state."

"I'm," Another cough. "Fine. I swear."

"If you insist."

After a while, I turned to face her, worried she wasn't enjoying herself anymore, only to find her sound asleep, clinging lightly to my shirt. See? I told you were sleepy. You just refused to listen to me. I stopped and watched the girl, moving little by little, afraid of waking her up.

She looked so peaceful. Though, it wouldn't be the first time I find her sleeping in my presence. I tugged a small strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted a little. I immediately paused. Shit, had I woken her? Though she soon returned to her slumber and she curled up into a ball in front of me.

I suppose this would suffice.

"Goodnight, darling." I whispered softly, laying next to her in the bed. "See you in the morning."

-----

[2nd person]

You awoke early in the morning, feeling well rested. Your bed was awfully more comfortable than you had remembered. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, finally opening them for the first time, only to find that you weren't in your own room. It took you a while to let things simmer in.

That's when you heard snoring next to you.

You turned to find the Radio Demon cuddled into a ball next to you in bed sleeping oh so soundly. The poor man probably hadn't had sleep in days. Before you could process what was happening, you checked the time and realized you had to be back at the bar for work in 5 minutes. Not wanting to wake Alastor up, you left him a quick note to thank him and left.

----

The whole day passed and you never caught sight of Alastor. After closing the bar, you headed to Alastor’s room,hoping to find him there.

You stop at his door and break out a tiny laugh.

On the door, a rushed sign saying — Sick. Keep out.

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lqveharrington · 10 months

Text

Many Kisses | M.M

summary: miles is just too cute and you can’t contain it anymore, him returning it back <3

pairing: earth 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

warnings: (not proof read !!) no use of y/n, fluff, loads of kissing, miles being an adorable person and great boyfriend in general, lmk if i missed any

a/n: my brain just thinks on a daily that miles is so cute that i wanna pocket him and keep him for myself, ALSO, i do truly believe miles would call his s/o cute names in spanish a lot because of his mother. (p.s. the other one-shot is under way !!)

————

You were beyond bored, scrolling through your phone to at least sufism the boredom Miles left you in. He was playing video games and you were curled up in his bed, not entirely sure why he invited you over in the first place.

You had changed into some of his clothes upon arriving, picking his oversized shirt and old shorts to feel more contented despite the lack of affection coming from your boyfriend.

“Miles?” You call out, turning to face his backside.

“Amor?” He responded back in his subtle flirty way.

You huff in amusement, pulling his blanket closer to yourself as the smell gave you comfort. “How much longer do you have?”

“Uh, I don’t know… It could be awhile. Why?” Miles leaned with the game, slightly jumping. “You good?”

“What? Yeah, m’just bored.” You smile at how he focused on the game, knowing that his tongue was poking out.

It was normal for Miles to put all his attention on one thing and still be so cute while doing so. Working on a school project, helping his mother cook, or simply sleeping next to you. But for you being the only one to enjoy his adorable face making and mannerisms, you felt like pocketing him up and keeping him for yourself.

You stared at him while he was gaming, but being too quiet brought Miles’ attention back on you.

“Mi vida?” Miles pushed away from his set up as the loading screen pulled up, spinning around to face you instead. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You hum, pink dusting your cheeks. “Jus’ thinking.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He take your hand and laced it with his. “Besides me of course.”

“Technically, nothing else.” You mumble, glancing away from him and down to your intertwined hands. “Your just so… I’m not too sure how to describe it. Like, ugh.”

“Like, ugh?” He raised his brows.

You click your tongue, “Like so cute, I guess is a word to describe it. I just wanna squeeze you so hard with a hug and never let go.”

“Cuteness aggression comin’ outta no where.” Miles’ pecks your hand. “Give me a sec.”

You shut your eyes as he lets go of your hand, sinking into the comfort of his bed. Only when you feel the weight shift on the bed do you open your eyes.

“What’re you doing, Miles? I thought you and Ganke had to game for a bit?” You question as he slots himself in between your legs, head resting on your shoulder.

“We did, but I realized that my amazing, cute girlfriend needed my attention.” He pecked some of your exposed shoulder, slowly making his way up. “You’re just so incredible, mi vida.”

You blink, feeling tired from the weight on you.

He continued to leave light kisses and kissed all over your face. Your forehead, cheeks, nose, anywhere accessible to him he would kiss. The one place you wanted a kiss he was purposely avoiding.

You give a joking pout, still patiently waiting for the kiss on your lips but still received none.

Miles left one last kiss on your forehead before laying back down, moving his body to lay on his side to face you.

Staring at his lips then back to his eyes, you sigh. “Miles?”

He hummed, keep his arms around your waist secure as your legs were tangled with his.

“I wanna kiss.”

“You got plenty of kisses.” He tried to hide his amusement, knowing you weren’t going to stop until you got a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, I guess…” You bit your lip and think about your next move. “But you kinda missed a spot?”

“Where, mami?” Miles took one of his hand and brought it under your chin. He left a soft kiss to your cheek, “Here?”

You let a small smile slip through, “No…”

“You gotta tell me where, baby.” He rubbed the soft part of your check with his thumb. “Otherwise, I won’t know.”

“Here.” You pointed to your lips, his eyes following your movements.

He pulls you close to him, kissing you on the lips with his own soft ones, smiling into it when you quickly return the kiss. You cup his face, kissing him multiple times and giggling when he copies you.

“I love you so so so much.” You mumbled between kisses.

“I love you so much, more than you will ever know.” Miles says after giving you one last kiss and rests his forehead on yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

————

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imyourbratzdoll · 3 months

Note

Hey I was reading your X-men posts and I just had an idea and if it is possible for you can you write about reader was with Bucky or Steve or both (your choice) but they break her heart and she finds love again with Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) or Eric Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) or both (again your choice) and protect her from Steve/Bucky 😅❤️

hi honey! thank you for requesting this, I hope you like what I've written!

summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.

warning - cheating? angst, word whore is used, insecurities, small violence.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Bucky Barnes had been your light since the day The Avengers found you. He had been the one to comfort you when the nightmares would become too much, the one to love you like you’ve never been loved before. So why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you heard him talking to his friends. Why did it feel like the opposite of love?

“I’m so sick of Y/n being attached to me all of the time! And does she really think I love her?! Has she seen herself lately? She’s no Nat or Sharon. She’s just her, plain.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, did I tell you that I hooked up with a smoking hot babe last night?” He smirks. “Man could she bend.”

You suck in a breath quietly, not wanting to be heard and also struggling to hold back your pain. You walk back to your room, quickly packing your things and disappearing into the night. You knew it was too good to be true, not once in your life had anything ever turned out good. You always seemed to end up with the short end of the stick. You had nowhere to go, a bag in your hand and the moon shining down on you. You felt stupid, you should’ve stayed, found a place before you left.

You decided to walk a few blocks, taking a random train, wanting to distance yourself. You had turned your phone off and threw it away at the first sight of Bucky calling you. You couldn’t turn back now, too busy with your head down, looking at the ground you manage to bump into someone. Your bag falling from your hands, hitting the floor with a thump. “I–I’m so sorry!” You go to kneel but stop when you notice your bag floating in the air.

“It’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out this late. You don’t know who you might end up bumping into.” You blink, your eyes connecting with blue. The random man hums, “Ah, Y/n L/n. What are you doing so far from home? Don’t you know you have many people looking for you? Some good, some bad.”

You shrug, “I don’t care…” You wipe your cheeks, ensuring there are no tear marks on them. “Who are you?”

The unknown man stares, face like stone. Reminding you so much of the man you just left. “And here I thought I made a reputation for myself.” He studies you, “Erik Lehnsherr, but I also go by Magneto.”

You nod. “It’s nice to meet you. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be…” You lie, you recognise the name, you knew of the people he used to hang around before he fully embraced his dark side. You couldn’t have him handing you back out of spite, you didn’t want to go back. Not after what you heard.

Erik’s hand flies out, gripping your arm softly. “No, you don’t. But I’m not a total monster, I won’t let a pretty girl like you stay out on the streets all night. God knows what will happen.” He begins to pull you along, ignoring your protests. “Be quiet, don’t make me regret being kind.”

Your mouth falls open as you stand in front of the X-Mansion, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you realise these people may judge you. You weren’t a mutant, you were a freak, an unloved freak. “I–I can’t stay here!”

“Why not?” Erik looks down at you, “Oh, are you one of those vampires that need inviting in?”

You look up at him with your head tilted, “Huh? What… No. I just, these people are… and I’m me… Plain…” You begin to play with your fingers.

“Hmm, whoever said that should get their eyes checked. Now come. I’m sure Charles is awaiting our arrival.” Instead of dragging you by the arm, he moves his hand and opens it, waiting for you to slip yours into his.

Months had passed since you had bumped into Erik, Charles had accepted you into their family, proving to you that you were one of them. Erik had come and gone many of times since he had taken you here, and each time you began to dread when he had to leave again. Your relationship with him was okay, it had begun quite stiff and slowly blossomed into a friendship, the only issue is you fell for him. But you knew you weren’t good enough for a man like Erik, Bucky had proved that.

Today you were excited though, Erik was coming back, and you had decided to wear your favourite dress, remembering the first time you had worn it, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Deep down your insecurities were saying it’s because he hated the dress and was wondering how someone like you could ruin a pretty piece of clothing by wearing it, but another part of you had hoped it was the opposite, that he liked your dress.

You walk out of your room, smoothing out your dress as you begin to head to the door where you hear voices. A smile forms on your face, ready to see Erik again. You enter the room and your smile falls, he had finally found you. You didn’t want to face him, he was the reason you didn’t think you were good enough anymore.

‘Y/n, I don’t want you to think I invited him, I tried to stop him, but I cannot do much unless I control someone’s mind and you understand why I didn’t, right?’ Charles speaks into your mind, your eyes connect with his and you nod.

“This is where you’ve been this whole time?! Do you know how worried we were?! How could you be so stupid!!” Bucky growls, moving closer. It’s as though you up and leaving him had struck a nerve, but you don’t know why, he didn’t love you like you did him.

You hated yourself in this moment, you wanted to stand up for yourself and show him that his words didn’t hurt, but everything was coming back, and you couldn’t move or speak. “I–I…”

“Take one step closer to her and I’ll shove that arm of yours down your throat.” A voice speaks from behind you, Erik steps out from the shadows, moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, calming you down when you didn’t even know you needed to be calm.

Bucky spins his arm, glaring. “Who are you?” His eyes fall to where Erik’s hand rests before he looks at you. “Is this why you ran off? Because you’re a whore?” Bucky steps forward, ignoring Erik’s warning causing Bucky to let out a cry of pain as his arm begins to get crushed.

“I warned you to not step closer to her. Yet you ignored that and insulted her.” He moves in front of you, pulling you to stay behind him. “Charles may have not wanted to control your mind because he’s a good guy, but I’m not.” With a flick of his hand, Bucky rises and gets thrown through the door. Erik stalks forward and glares at him. “If you ever come near Y/n again, I will kill you.” He makes sure to watch Bucky leave before he turns and walks toward you before you can even open your mouth to thank him, he grips the sides of your face and pulls you in, bringing you into a passionate kiss.

Was this what love felt like?

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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blitzyn · 4 months

Text

relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

527 notes · View notes

astridthevalkyrie · 10 months

Text

honeymoon period | jumin han x reader

After Jumin marries you, slowly, his threads start to untangle.

a/n: my first and probably last long jumin fic. this has been in the works for months, literally what i've been stalling on superior for (pre keigo 😭) i hope you all enjoy! i love this man <3

warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, some depressing thoughts, smut, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, references to kinks that they both have, references/nightmares about abuse including sexual harassment, insecurity, jumin's comedy lol

word count: 13.2k (only a little less than the last superior chapter that is cray cray)

There is a knock on your door.

It makes you jump. Not that you’re nervous—it’s a hotel and several of your friends and family are here to see you get married, so naturally many of them know where your room is. The room itself is, of course, lavish, a paradise compared to most of your previous lodgings. Honestly, you miss the penthouse.

No, that’s not quite right. You just miss being curled up on the couch, tucked into Jumin’s chest with Elizabeth on your lap, wine on his lips and love in his eyes. You miss him, even though you saw him last this morning. You know he’s in the hotel lobby being forced to get wasted by Luciel, because the hacker in question has sent you dozens of videos of your fiancé. In one of them, when Zen reminds him he’s getting married tomorrow, a goofy smile breaks out on his face as he ducks his head.

Maybe the wedding wasn’t necessary. Maybe you two could have just signed the necessary papers without having to go a full day without seeing each other. How are you supposed to sleep tonight? You could call him, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Sighing, you make your way to the door. If it’s one of your friends trying to convince you to let loose or a family member coming to check up on you, you’re not in the mood.

When you open the door, your fiancé is standing there.

“Jumin!”

All questions on the tip of your tongue disappear when he brings you into his arms, burying his face in your neck with a content sigh. There’s no urgency in it, just a quiet, sudden happiness, like he’s fully aware that in just a few hours he won’t have to worry about you being anywhere but in his arms again.

“Thank you.” His voice breaks the silence, muffled on your skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”

Your eyes well up with tears. What an emotional bride you’re turning out to be. And what a wonderful groom you have, to somehow know exactly what you need even when he’s not completely sober.

Slowly, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re welcome, Jumin.”

///

There has never been a lovelier sight than your smile, and Jumin hopes you know that.

If you don’t, he’ll just have to convince you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You’re sporting a grin for him—just for him—wearing nothing but one of his shirts with Elizabeth the Third scurrying out from between your feet when she sees him. There’s a pink bottle on the counter. Frosting, he thinks. “I hope you don’t mind, but having a chef cook for us for a month straight has ruined my palate for anything else. I had to cook for myself again before I got spoiled. I can call him to make you dinner if you don’t want to eat what I made, though!”

“Of course not.” The urge to embrace you is unbearable. A month after the wedding, and his first day back at work after the honeymoon, he still can’t seem to keep his hands off. “What did you make? I’ll eat anything.”

He leans down to take Elizabeth the Third in his arms, scratching the back of her head softly. “Alright! I made stew and baked some cupcakes, I hope you like it. But you should probably change first. Slip into something more comfortable.”

“Ironic, considering you and I are wearing the same thing.”

“Well…” You lean over the counter, making a show of ogling him. “If you really want to match, you can leave the shirt on and take off your pants.”

It’s impossible to even try and stop the smile growing on his face. “Would you like that?”

“Come over here and find out, hubby.”

The nickname makes him flush pleasantly, but instead of taking you up on that extremely tempting offer, he simply walks up and presses a kiss to your forehead. You pout, and with the tact of knowing Elizabeth is still in his arms, you tug on his tie and kiss him properly. Jumin’s brain turns off, if only for a few seconds. As long as you kiss him and he kisses you back, the only thing he knows is you, you, you and nothing else.

Now, instead of changing, he’s holding his cat and kissing you in the kitchen. With just a minor breakaway and murmured apology, he’s no longer holding his cat. His hands slide around your back and pull you in, and your hands meet at the base of his neck. You. Only you.

“Ju-min,” you admonish breathlessly, the second he pulls away to trail hurried kisses down your neck. “Dinner first.”

“Mm. I’m not hungry.” Or he is, but not for dinner.

Your hands come to rest on his chest, but you don’t pull away, and Jumin is beyond grateful. He doesn’t want to eat, doesn’t want to sleep or shower or do anything else when he could be showing you just how much he’d missed you at work today.

Slightly pressed into the counter, you place your hands back and jump onto it, and he eagerly steps in between your legs to kiss you again. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair—a habit of yours, he’s noticed, to mess his hair up. He doesn’t mind. Not if it makes you happy.

Finally, you pull away and before he can dive back in for yet another kiss, you dip your finger into the bowl next to you and offer it up to him. Without even considering it, he takes your finger in between his lips and licks the gravy off.

It’s only after he registers the taste does Jumin realize how intimate the action is. And of course, he knows that you’re married, that you and he have seen each other absolutely bare and open to one another, that he is literally making out with you in his—in your—in your shared kitchen. He knows that despite everyone thinking that the marriage was rushed and impulsive, this will be a long road, and he plans to stick by you for each and every single step. He knows that tasting something off your finger is hardly the most domestic thing you two will do.

But it doesn’t stop the flurry of butterflies he feels in his stomach. It doesn’t stop him from thinking my wife is letting me taste what she made, because she’s perfect. That’s not to mention how wonderful the taste actually is.

“Good?” you question, with gleaming eyes.

“Incredible.” He takes your hand and dips your finger in the bowl, stealing another taste right after. “More than incredible. The best stew I’ve ever had.”

“I know you’re flattering me.” Leaning forward, you take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Softly, gently, like he’s something fragile that will break if you use any force. “But I’m not complaining. Keep going.”

“Food is always better when a beautiful woman is the one serving it.”

You beam. The butterflies in his stomach do a victory soar.

Jumin Han is in love.

///

Zen has a dream about you. That’s when the problem starts.

He tells it to the group in great detail—it’s not anything romantic or sexual, but Jumin doesn’t see a reason for you to be in his subconscious at all, even if you were just the supposed director for Zen’s dream movie. You’re not any sort of movie director, so the dream is ridiculous at any rate.

It doesn’t stop him from pouncing on you the second you two get back home. You don’t even get to take a seat before he’s pressing you against the door, ensuring it’s locked (the last thing he needs is for one of the security guards to see this and have dreams about you too) and kissing you possessively.

“Jumin—?” There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but it cuts off into a delicious moan when he starts sucking and biting all the same spots he knows he left hickeys on during your honeymoon.

“Spend the day with me,” he whispers. “Just me, no one else.”

An amused giggle bubbles from your throat. “I was already gonna do that, honeybunny.”

Good. That’s plenty of time for him to mark up your neck (and other places) so that everyone knows you’re his, and other people can stop dreaming of you. Already his mind is filled with wicked thoughts, of how he can make you cry and beg and scream today. From the time you two spent on your honeymoon, he knows you can get quite loud if he puts his mind to it.

The only limit is his imagination.

“Jumin.” Your head tilts back against the door, eyes closed as his tongue soothes a bite mark he just made. “Ah, J-Jumin, are you jealous?”

“No.” He is.

“I know what possessiveness looks like.” You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to each fingertip. “You know that me being in Zen’s dream isn’t something in our or even his control?”

“Of course I know that.” He huffs, impatiently fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He kisses you again, and you hum in understanding, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. It’s amazing, no matter how many times he thinks everyone would dismiss him for being ridiculous over something like this, you are always there to prove that at least one person wouldn’t. And you taste. So. Damn. Good.

So why not taste you all over? Jumin hungrily slides his tongue over your teeth, seeking entrance. When your mouth parts for him, he tastes you intimately, swallowing your soft sighs.

“For the record,” you mumble, out of breath, “I only ever dream about you.”

“As do I, darling.” He pulls you closer still, thinking about how good you’ll taste when he has his mouth on your pussy. “As do I.”

///

This need to prove himself to you extends beyond the sexual—you laugh so much when you’re around Luciel and Yoosung. Actual laughter that is so different from the polite smiles and chuckles that are in response to his own words.

He hates it. He hates it so very much. He wants to make you laugh, full blown and unabashed. As much as he likes making you giggle, he wants to make you laugh so hard that there are tears pouring down your cheeks. And his experience has quite readily set him up for the expectation that if he wants something, he will have it.

And now, what he really, really wants is to see his wife lose her in laughter because of him.

That means it’s time to bring out the big guns.

Right now you’re under the covers, reading glasses on as you flip through a book. The book in question is something from his personal library (when he showed it to you, mentioning a scene from Beauty and the Beast, you had promptly told him that he was not a beast, but that you finally understood how the princess felt in that scene).

To an extent, Jumin feels bad when he distracts you from work or requests your attention. But he tries to remind himself that if you didn’t want it, you were more than capable of telling him as much. And your reaction to him crawling on top of you with his arms on either side would certainly not be to put the book aside and pull him down to lay on your chest with a kiss to the crown of his head.

For once in his life, Jumin is certain that he is loved.

“I have a joke,” he tells you matter-of-factly, and your brow raises.

“What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises himself up so he can take a good look at your face.

“Hit Seoul, hit Daejon, hit Daegu, hit Busan, hit it!”

There’s a long pause, and your surprised expression slowly morphs into a giggle, then at his grin, a chortle. Jumin laughs first, and then you do too, throwing your head back. It’s single-handedly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“W-what—“ You’re wheezing now, shoulders shaking. “What does that even mean?”

“I cast a spell on you. Those who laugh are no ordinary souls, for your information.”

“You are so perfect.” The praise catches him off guard, but your body is still shaking from laughter, and in your eyes he sees something like adoration. “How are you so perfect?”

That is definitely not a word he associates with his humor. His status, money, company, business acumen? Yes, perfect, as they were always meant to be. But the little flips in his stomach tell him that none of those things are what you’re referring to. The look in your eyes—he never sees you look at material objects or money that way. He has only ever seen it aimed towards him, and Jumin realizes with a start that there is no need to compete with Zen or Yoosung or Luciel—because really, there is no competition to begin with.

///

Being a workaholic comes with benefits. Everything always gets done. And he enjoys doing business, so there is no negative side effect…other than the lost time that could be spent with his wife. Typing away on the computer he has set up in his study, Jumin sighs, cracking his neck every half hour or so. He’s been at it for hours, but there’s still more left to do.

A soft knock makes him look up. You peek your head in, blinking sleepily and all wrapped up in a blanket. “Sorry to disturb,” in a whisper that barely reaches his ears, “can I sleep here, honey?”

Jumin beckons you in, looking around dubiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s any surface here you’d be comfortable on. I don’t want you to have an ache by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” Your eyes keep blinking closed, as though you’re barely staying awake. All your words are hushed, but you still manage to clamber over to his side of the desk, blanket in tow, and fall onto his lap, burying your face in his chest.

With a start, he catches you, holding you close. “What is it, sweetheart? You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, getting even more comfortable. “The bed’s too cold.”

Something indescribable squeezes his chest. Above everything, the pleasure that you would rather seek warmth from him rather than get another blanket is all-consuming. Without another word, he stands with you in his arms and walks to the bed. The second he steps into the bedroom, your grip on him becomes a little tighter.

He huffs back a small laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I’d just rather you sleep here.”

Pulling out a second blanket from the closet for good measure, he lays down on the bed with you, throwing both blankets over your bodies before wrapping you up in his arms. You sigh happily, legs mixing with his and face pressing in his chest once more.

“Sorry for distracting you.” Now your voice is barely audible. “Mm…you’re just…so much warmer…”

“Can I ask you a favor?” You hum softly in response. “Please never apologize for demanding my attention. I am yours, that includes my body, my soul, and my time. Should you ever need me to sleep and I am in the office, please call me and I’ll come home immediately. I’ll take the jet home if I have to. That doesn’t just stop at my time either. If there is anything, anything, you would like, then all you have to do is ask me. I’ll buy you anything. The world is at your disposal.”

There’s a pause and Jumin thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you break the silence, quietly asking, “Is it okay if I ask you for something, then?”

“Anything.”

Cute but glossy eyes peer up at him, and you blink rapidly. “A kiss?”

Jumin places his hands on your cheeks, catching the stray tear that falls. Then he leans in, and everything is right with the world.

///

Ice Prince.

Jumin has no idea where the title actually came from. He doesn’t see what’s wrong with someone having control of their emotions. Is he expected to cry or rage at every little thing? That’s a genuine question. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion at all, and he should. He’s open to advice.

It shouldn’t even be on his mind. He’s watching a soap opera, and the most beautiful woman in the world is in his arms. He enjoys watching your reactions more than watching the show itself, whether you’re holding back an aww or wincing. Every so often, you look up and meet his eyes, giving him a sweet smile each and every time before placing your head back on his chest.

Still, he can’t get the article he read earlier out of his head. Has the Ice Prince really settled down? What kind of life does the new Mrs. Han lead? One can only imagine that she does not get many warm moments with Jumin Han. A speedy divorce would not be surprising.

Just the thought makes him tug you in closer, the idea of you leaving never failing to terrify him. He’s gotten better, he doesn’t freak out over you exiting the penthouse or hanging out with friends or working. He’d told himself harshly that he would not drive you away with his overt possessiveness.

But maybe he’s going to drive you away if he can’t learn to show you his emotions and instead continues to be…well, an ice prince, as much as he hates the term.

“Jumin.” You’re pressing a kiss to his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you tired, honey? We can go to bed.”

When he looks down, you’re gazing concernedly up at him. He doesn’t feel like a villain when you look upon him like this. And holding you close is not the only privilege he has here. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you, and you melt in almost immediately. Jumin knows that you’re starting to get sleepy because you don’t make any move to straddle him further.

The man who knows you best—that is what the articles should be about. Doting husband. Family man. Your partner. How could anyone think he was cold or heartless to you?

“Juju,” you mumble softly, not bothering to break the kiss, “we should get to bed.”

Yes, you’re right. However…

“May I ask you a question?” His curiosity and slight anxiousness requires him to make sure. If he’s ever done anything to make you think he’s some kind of robot, he needs to get rid of such behavior immediately.

Your lips quirk like he’s said something funny. “You may.”

“Have I ever seemed…cold to you?” Almost as if to remind you before you answer, he holds your hand, squeezing gently, while the other hand remains on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Since we’ve been together, I mean. Have I ever acted anything like an…” Jumin cringes just saying it out loud. “Ice prince?”

The question seems to take you aback, and you blink a few times. Your eyes—warm, beautiful eyes—first stare at him with a certain confusion, then quickly become infused with a sudden anger.

“Did someone say that about you? Who was it?”

“No one,” he responds, then hastily amends, “there have always been articles calling me that. I just happened to see one today, so it was on my mind.”

Now, you really do straddle him, threading your fingers through his hair. The anger has dulled into a stubborn crossness. With a deep scowl, you kiss his forehead and say, “That is ridiculous. You have been nothing but warm to me, Jumin Han.”

The same warmth you’re talking about spreads across his cheeks, painting them pink, but you’re not done.

“Since when do you care about those articles anyway? They’ve always been inane. Remember when everyone was convinced that you would marry Sarah?” Here you huff, and he hates to admit that he loves seeing you jealous, even if over someone he never even considered getting to know. “And you had to set them straight for them to print anything accurate. Maybe I should give a press statement of my own. Ice Prince my ass.”

“Such language,” Jumin says lowly, already hiding his face in your neck. You’re still peeved, muttering things under your breath as you stroke his hair, angry kisses pressed to his skin in the middle of your rant.

Eventually, you tire yourself out, falling asleep right there on his chest, a common occurrence. He doesn’t mind it one bit, it’s actually really easy to carry you to bed. For some reason, Jumin feels much, much lighter.

///

His wife is a party planner. An event planner, technically, since you’ll take some requests for meetings as well, but it’s mostly parties. He knows that due to your marriage, there’s been an increase in the amount of clients wanting you to plan their events. Even before, you’d said your schedule had always been sporadic, revolving around whatever the current most pressing event was.

Frankly, he shouldn’t be surprised, with how masterfully you pulled off the RFA party.

He’s more than proud of you, of course. He’s now attended quite a few of the events you put together, and it always leaves him impressed. You’ve confided in him about how you’d like to either switch to a company that exclusively does weddings or start your own, and despite your protests, he’s fully prepared to finance such an endeavor when the time comes.

The only issue about your job, and his job as well, is that your schedules can be sporadic. There are days where you can work without even leaving the penthouse, and then there are days where you are running around and don’t return until 2 AM. Jumin can hardly get upset when he’s taunted the clock with his record times at coming home as well.

Can’t get upset at you, that is. Being upset at the situation is perfectly reasonable. He wants to spend time with his wife, dammit. You’re his favorite person in the world, all the things he wants to do involve being with you.

So when he’s the one who’s arriving at 2 in the morning, he deflates to see that you’re fast asleep, a couple documents and your phone in the bed next to you. How many times has he told you he would set up a separate room for you to work in? Each time, you shake your head and say all you need is your phone and laptop, and you can work anywhere. That doesn’t take into account your health, though. The place you relax should not be associated with work, or it leads to a less relaxing sleep cycle. He once read a study about that.

It might be hypocritical, but Jumin misses you. He wants to talk to you so badly it pains him, and not just longing phone calls that always leave him wanting more.

Loosening his tie, he waits for a second before falling hard onto the bed.

Your eyes flutter open immediately, and in your daze you take in your still-dressed husband. With a sleepy smile, you push away all the papers next to you to snuggle into his arms. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” One arm secured around your back, he pulls you as close to him as you can. He sees you breathe in his lingering cologne, and it makes him downright giddy that his scent seems to bring you comfort. “Shouldn’t a loving wife be waiting up for her husband?”

You yawn, throwing one leg around him. “Not when the husband returns at an ungodly time and the wife has an early morning site inspection. Did you have dinner?”

“I did. Did you?”

“Mmh. Yeah. I refrigerated some in a container if you wanna take it to work tomorrow.”

This is one of his favorite domestic things you do—and he doesn’t even think you realize how much he appreciates it. If it’s between having something from a five star restaurant or having your cooking, the latter will win each and every time. Sometimes he wants to brag to the whole world, although the most he’ll do is slip how tasty his lunch was today to Assistant Kang (who will almost always respond with a dry, “Glad to hear that, Mr. Han.”).

“I will.” Jumin kisses your lips, smiling when he feels you respond with little effort. “I’ve missed you.”

Your arms snake around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin. Jumin sighs when he feels you kiss his collarbone. “I’ve missed you too.” All he needs is your breath on his skin, or your hands on his face, or your voice filling his ears. It relaxes him instantly. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in the office all day.” Already he groans, burying his face in your hair in the hopes that it will preemptively soothe the headache sure to form tomorrow. At first he didn’t understand why you insisted on using the same hair conditioner you always did instead of a much more expensive one he could buy for you, but the smell of your hair is so exquisite that now he wholly prefers it (although there is a special kind of tingling in his chest reserved for the moments you smell like him).

“Same. After my inspection, I’m going to be meeting four new clients, and I’m going to guess they all want priority.” You roll your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is also Mr. Wang’s wedding, so I’ll be back late.”

At his wordless whine, you giggle, kissing his cheek. Then after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, a soft hum sounds from your throat.

“I have an idea.”

///

The click of Jaehee’s heels alerts him to her entrance, and Jumin straightens in his chair, accepting the papers that she hands him.

“Thank you. Have you eaten, Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee blinks at him once, then twice, like he’s grown an extra head. Then she slowly nods, the surprised expression melting back into her perfectly professional one once more. “Yes, sir. And you?”

“Not yet. I brought a container my wife packed for me.”

“Honey, I don’t think she really cares to know that.”

“I see. She is a pretty good cook if I recall correctly.”

“Everyone cares,” Jumin insists.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re so sweet, it’s annoying. I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Mr. Han, are you alright? You look a bit out of it—should I call for a doctor?”

“Do it.” He smiles at the papers in his hands. “I won’t stop you.”

“Call…call the doctor?”

“Will you kiss me back, in front of all your employees?”

“Yes. Of course. Whatever you desire.”

“Right away, sir,” Jaehee responds in a sort of strangled voice, and it’s not until he hears the click of her heels again that he remembers she was there. In almost a flash, she leaves his office.

“What did she say?”

Jumin touches the tiny earpiece that’s been on all day, adjusting it only slightly. “I honestly have no idea.”

///

Jumin hates leaving. But he does, well, what is the phrase? Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave? Something along those lines, is what you’ve said to him. He’s not sure it applies here, since he is actually leaving to go abroad for a few days, and already he’s looking forward to his reunion with you, but he didn’t expect that both of you would be so needy for each other the night before the flight.

It starts with a few kisses, a pout on your lips that he thinks he can kiss away if he just tries hard enough. Telling you in hushed whispers that he’ll miss you an unfathomable amount. Your understanding on a pragmatic level, and your clinginess the second you both laid down. Both are appreciated more than he can say.

“What if I want to watch a movie with you?”

Kiss. “Just wait a week for me, my love.”

“What if the bed is too cold and I need you to warm me up?”

Kiss. “One week, I promise. No more than a week.”

“What if aliens invade the penthouse and I have no one to protect me?”

Kiss. “Tell them that your husband is going to kill them…in a week.”

For a few minutes, it goes on like this, with you proposing other scenarios and Jumin doing his best to both reassure you and make you laugh. He lays kiss upon kiss to your lips, and perhaps subconsciously, they become more ravenous, demanding. Seeking more. Seeking your conviction on just how much you will miss him.

“Jumin,” you breathe into his mouth. Jumin, Jumin. He loves how you say his name.

You’re seeking something as well, the warmth that you are so certain will disappear along with him. On one hand, he hates that his princess has to sleep without him at all, especially when she clearly doesn’t want to. And on the other hand, knowing that you’ll be here, missing him so desperately, makes his heart flutter. You’ll miss him. You’ll miss him.

Within moments, you’re on top of him, seated on his lap and unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. He’s responding in kind, leaving love bites on your neck as he slides your night robe off your shoulders.

“What if I get lonely?” you ask, more demure than you actually are. “What if I need you, and my fingers aren’t enough?”

His hands press into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You mewl at the slight pain, and he manages to hiss, “I never want your fingers to be enough. If you wait for me, princess, I’ll make you cum more times than you can handle when I get back.” Even if just the idea of you sending him a video or even calling him as you touch yourself was incredibly appealing. Maybe next time. This week, he would have you think of nothing but his own fingers, his tongue, his cock.

And what better way to do that than to remind you how they feel?

“I’ll be gone seven days exactly.” Spoken more to your breasts than you, but he does gaze up at you reverently as he kneads them in his hands. “Maybe tonight I can make you cum once for every day I won’t be here. Would you like that?”

He jerks his thigh up against your core before you can answer, so you nod frantically, mouth falling open. “Uh huh!”

And who is Jumin to ever deny you?

///

The trip right before Valentine’s is the worst. It’s all Jumin can do to finish work before running like a madman through several different stores, picking up this and that. He insists on a different bag for each purchase, despite the clerks gently pointing out that he can put a lipstick tube in the same bag as a pair of heels and nothing will happen, but he doesn’t want to. He would like to see you open every item with a new spark of delight in your eyes.

Usually, he would return late at night, always opting to finish the day’s work and catch a flight right after instead of waiting for morning, because this way he would arrive home, gather you up in his arms as you slept soundly, and then bask in your surprise and delight when you woke the next morning.

And this time would have been no different if one of the departments had not messed up, forcing him to wake up on Valentine’s Day still out of the country. After five days’ worth of work forced into two hours, a shopping spree and a quick call with you, he nearly takes the wheel from the pilot himself before Jaehee begs him to just sit and try to enjoy the ride home. The rest of the trip, they are engaged in a glaring contest every time she looks up from the video she is watching on her laptop.

As soon as the door opens, he hears a surprised cry of his name, and then you’re barreling into him—all the bags in Jumin’s hands fall to the floor in favor of catching you and hefting you up in the air for a spin.

“I thought—“ Kiss. “That you—“ Kiss. “Weren’t coming back today!“ Deeper kiss.

“I couldn’t miss my first Valentine’s with you, my love.” The deepest kiss of all.

The two of you only stop because his bodyguards are coming into the room after him, with more bags. Your eyes widen as you take in all of them, and your sharp mind has already pieced together what’s going on. “Is this all for me?”

“Of course.” Jumin knows that the way you’re latching onto him with such a tight grip is a more priceless gift than anything in these bags. “Why don’t you open everything? I wish to see your reaction.”

And so you do. The makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the jewelry, the books, the decor, all of fine quality and all things well thought out with your interests in mind. With every single item, no matter how big or small, you gasp, or squeal, or simply smile ever so widely. And without fail, you kiss him right on the lips each time.

Jumin is dizzy only halfway into the opening process—he must start buying you gifts far more often if this is the reward he gets.

However, you see beyond just his outward appearance, and you place the next bag he hands you aside without so much as a glimpse at it before clambering onto his lap. Hands on his cheeks, your thumbs smooth over where he’s sure eyebags are forming. “My poor Juju,” you whisper, “you look really tired, honey.”

Honey, honey, honey. How joyful he feels when you call him honey. “As always, you see right through me. I can’t hide from you, can I?”

“I never want you to hide from me.” A sweet kiss pressed to his cheek makes his stomach jump, like he’s a teenage boy with a crush. “Let’s lay down, shall we? We can finish opening everything afterwards.”

Jumin concedes, rising hand in hand with you until you’re both on the bed, curled up in each other. “What a terrible Valentine’s this turned out to be. I’m sorry, my love.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him slow, soft and smooth. “What are you talking about? You’re here where I can hold you, we’re both off work, and you’ve gifted me more than anyone else ever has or will in my life.”

“Good,” he says, satisfied that he’s set a standard that no one else can ever match for you. “But is that…enough?”

“Enough?” Your tone is incredulous. “Jumin, just you being here is more than enough. I love you so, so much, and I—“ You cut yourself off, slightly backing up as though you’re trying not to overwhelm him (a ridiculous notion, he would love nothing more than for you to overwhelm his every sense). “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have married you.”

This time he kisses you, the idea of sleep slipping further and further away because really, why should he close his eyes when he can only see you when they’re open? Why should he rob himself of the privilege to gaze upon your lovely face and listen to your quiet, soothing voice? Why should he do anything else, eat or drink or work or play, when he could simply kiss you for the rest of his life?

“I love you,” he breathes, pulling you closer because you simply can never be close enough. “Happy Valentine’s, my precious wife.”

///

Of course, the first time your schedule allows you to accompany him on a business trip he’s ecstatic. Finally a week without the headache of returning to an empty hotel room, and instead what will feel like more of a vacation, especially once he completes the necessary work and the two of you can spend the rest of the days lazing by the beach.

Because of the honeymoon, Jumin had become well acquainted with your fear of flying, and had arranged your seats in his private jet to be close together. As the jet takes off, he holds your hand in his as you squeeze, eyes shut tightly for the takeoff. Reassuringly, he kisses your hand, rubbing the back of it while his other hand strokes Elizabeth the Third’s head through the carrier she’s in.

“Poor Elizabeth,” you manage to whimper, still looking quite pale even after the takeoff is done, “I hope she doesn’t get airsick.”

“She doesn’t,” Jumin reassures. Elizabeth is used to such flights, unlike you. He’d much rather you focus on your own health right now.

The stewardess for the flight comes through with the cart of food and drinks. “Anything for you, Mr. Han?”

“A glass of wine.”

“Of course, sir. And you, Mrs. Han?”

“Oh, um…” You smile sheepishly up at her. “Would you happen to have apple juice?”

The woman blinks once, then, as though she’s fighting back a laugh, says, “Apple juice, ma’am?”

“Is that a problem?” Jumin cuts in sharply before you can answer, glaring daggers.

“No, no! O-of course I can give you apple juice, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend—“

“No offense taken.” Even nauseous and teased, you smile kindly, eyes lighting up when you have your drink. If he remembers correctly, he used to drink apple juice when he would get airsick as a child as well.

When the stewardess leaves, you lean over and press an apple-tasting kiss to his lips, and he catches a few drops of the juice in his mouth. It tastes yummy, or maybe it’s just the taste of you that he likes.

Probably the latter. Either way, he’s eager to get this vacation started.

///

“I feel so good that you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. I…never want to let you go.”

…

“I’ve trapped you here, haven’t I?” he asks one night, after he thinks you’ve fallen asleep.

You’re wide awake, though, and he feels your lips on his throat as you whisper, “I’ve never once felt trapped with you, Jumin.”

///

You’re a lightweight, and it’s the most adorable thing Jumin has ever seen. Including cat photos. Including Elizabeth the Third. And you don’t realize just how cute you are, which only makes you cuter.

“Juju,” you whine, when he starts to guide you to bed.

“You have to sleep, my dear.” Almost smugly, he places a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Sleep and allow me to take care of you in the morning.”

The protest you seemed to be ready to fire back morphs into a happy giggle as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “I do like when you take care of me.”

“Likewise.”

For some reason, that sends you into more giggles as you press against him. “You talk so smart like. I love when you use big words.”

Biting back a smile, Jumin raises a brow. “Is likewise a big word?”

“Anything is a big word when you say it.” You kiss him softly, sliding your hands in his hair. You love messing up his hair, almost as much as he loves letting you do it. “You’re so smart. So clever. Your brain is like…” To exaggerate your point, you lean your head away, with his hands on your back to keep steady. “Soooo huge.”

“Not the only thing,” he hums slyly.

“Jumin!” Laughing, you hit his shoulder, only for him to tug you in close, making you squeak. The only downside to how well you two know each other now is that he doesn’t get to see your beautifully embarrassed face, but he still gets some wins when he catches you off guard.

“I’m only kidding, my love.” Watching your lips part for him as he leans in, Jumin kisses you this time, gently sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Let no one say he wasn’t out and open with his oral fixation when it came to you. “I’m honored to know you find me intelligent.”

You beam, nearly blinding him with how brilliant your smile is. “Intelligent, and funny. So, so funny. I love your jokes.” Now you turn your cheek, placing sloppy kisses along his jaw. “And handsome. I have the most handsome husband in the world.”

Jumin, only now realizing the difference between being happy and being giddy and knowing he’s both, can only close his eyes, tilting his head back. “Ironic for you to say, considering no one with your beauty has ever existed before nor will exist again.”

The way your cheeks flush make him realize that he, too, must be quite tipsy. Surely his stomach does not flip so violently just to see how your eyes glow at his praise.

“I love you.” You swallow, and he watches the movement of your throat closely. “Do you know how much?”

He exhales, not having realized he inhaled before. “M-more than is reasonable, I presume.”

“A lot more than is reasonable,” you whisper before kissing him again. This one is different, he can tell. Something more desperate. More wanting. More likely to make him lose his mind.

How does he know? It’s because you’re not just kissing him, you’re also borderline riding the knee he’s slotting between your legs. With a whine, you tug on his collar, as though you want him closer. Need him closer.

Losing his mind is just the beginning.

“Sit on the couch.” The tone with which you beg makes his already hardening cock twitch. “Please, Jumin.”

He obeys—how could he not obey?—and just the sight of you dropping to your knees to unbuckle his pants has him throwing his head back with a lustful groan. How did he get here? How did he get so lucky?

You kiss the head of his cock, and Jumin is gone.

When you start bobbing your head, eagerly sucking with your eyes closed in concentration, it takes every inch of willpower he has ever had to not cum immediately, so that this can last. With every slow caress of your tongue, he can feel himself getting lost in his own base senses, every coherent thought fading away and leaving only an animalistic need.

“Princess,” he moans, fingers in your hair. His words escape him in a slurred, barely coherent manner. “I, ahh, won’t last—shit—”

Coming inside your warm, wet mouth is not in the top five moments he remembers when he thinks of his favorite times with you, because he likes to think he’s classier than that, but regardless, he’s never going to forget this.

///

Growing up, the one trait that he was always told to avoid and to find disdainful in others was laziness. There is nothing worse than a person who is not efficient. People who waste time just doing simple tasks are not worth his time, he was told.

But surely, surely, that does not apply to you. (Or maybe it’s a silly lesson in the first place, another one to add the list he has started to garner since he married you.)

It does not apply when you have to get up early for work and you sadly try cuddling with him in the five minutes you have left to remain in bed. Most days Jumin leaves before you, pressing a kiss to the lips of the princess in bed before heading out. Your parted lips in sleep do such a number on him that he has to make sure not to linger too long.

Days where your job demands you wake with him are no less enjoyable, and perhaps even more so as he gets to witness your clinginess. Jumin tugs you to the bathroom, where you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as both of you brush your teeth. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he seats you on the chair by the counter and amuses himself by watching your sleepy eyes follow him while he makes a quick breakfast.

“Maybe I could eat ‘n your lap?” you ask cutely, poking at your scrambled eggs with a fork.

“My dear,” Jumin answers, intertwining your fingers to kiss the back of your hand, “I would love nothing more, but you will fall asleep again.”

Not even an argument as you nod with a lazy smile, head falling forward on the counter. “I want to fall asleep again. How do you do this every day?”

“It’s what I’ve always done.” He’s finished with his eggs, so he stands, sweeping your hair aside to lean down and press a kiss to your nape. You squeal, squirming away as he catches you and tugs you to him, watching you immediately give up this play fight and snuggle into his chest to catch a bout of standing shut-eye. “Now come, Driver Kim is waiting to drop us both off.”

You shake your head, clutching onto him stubbornly.

“You can sleep on my lap in the car.”

And he feels inordinately pleased with how fast you move after that.

///

The days that he knows you will be at the penthouse when he returns, there’s always an extra breath in his steps, as if the air itself knows he must return home immediately.

Tonight, for example. He has a whole night planned. The two of you would cook the next thing to try on that list of recipes you printed and excitedly taped up in the kitchen, then after dinner he plans to play some soft music and waltz you around the rather spacious living room, and then both of you could go for a swim in the pool, and the night would end with you dozing off in his arms.

A perfect night. The kind he dreams about, the kind that he never can quite believe are real.

When he opens the door, he doesn’t hear any call of his name nor is he tackled in a hug, which only makes his shoulders deflate slightly. Elizabeth the Third softly mrrows at him from where she’s sitting on the couch. Placing a kiss atop her head, he pokes in to check a few rooms, searching for his wife.

You’re nowhere to be found. The only place left to check is the bedroom. His sweetheart usually doesn’t fall asleep so early, though.

He opens the door, then freezes in his tracks.

With a couple of candles lit up around the room, you sit on the bed, nothing on except the set of lingerie he ordered a few weeks ago at your request, black as the night sky (“because it reminds me of you”). A few pillows support you as you lean back, eyes trained on him. There’s a glass of wine in your hands, and another on the table next to you clearly reserved for him.

You take a small sip, and some drops purposefully miss your lips and slowly drip down your neck, down over the swell of your breasts.

“Care to join me, husband?”

Jumin swallows.

None of his plans end up coming to fruition that night, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

///

(You’ve pointed out how the most random things turn him on—when you wear his clothes, but specifically his striped shirts, when you let him buy something ludicrously expensive for you, when you do simple things to take care of him, when you wait for him at home after work, cat ears—cat ears, cat ears, cat ears!—and the rare moments where he gets to see you pissed off.

But he’d only responded how the things you were into were equally as random—seeing him disheveled after a hard day’s work or a visit to the gym, the way he answered business calls simply by saying Jumin Han speaking, what do you need, and every time you’re naked on his lap while he’s fully clothed.

Shall I remind you how desperate you get, my dear? he growls into your ear. Your cheeks flush, and Jumin reaches for the ribbon in the drawer, even more impatient than you are.)

///

There are other times where Jumin will arrive home and if you aren’t leaping into his arms, kissing him full on the lips as he spins you around or pins you to the wall depending on the mood, you’re sitting on the couch, typing away on your laptop either for your job or for the RFA.

In those moments, he finds himself easily sliding his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, absolutely reveling in the subconscious way you rub his nape and kiss his hair.

Sometimes you both will exchange stories of your day, expanding on something a phone call simply couldn’t cover or something that perhaps you had wanted to say in person to fully soak in the reaction (you seem to particularly enjoy how he insults the difficult clients you tell him about). Other times, there is a serene silence, only broken by Elizabeth the Third’s purring and the clack of your keyboard keys.

You smell so good, all the time. He wonders if he should be capitalizing on the perfume you use so that no one else can buy it. That way this scent would solely be yours, just like he is. Something about that idea blooms a warmth in his chest.

The best part of the night comes when you finish, closing the laptop and setting it aside before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you,” you say, only for his ears, just like how your lips are only for his skin, just like how your scent is only for his nose, just like how Jumin is only here to be yours entirely.

///

In the past, when he’s fallen ill, he’s either ignored it or simply just taken the necessary amount of time to recover. The last time he was pampered like this was as a child by his nannies. And even their doting paled in comparison to yours (but then, didn’t everything, when it came to you).

Because this. This, is heavenly.

Every single ounce of your affection is solely for him. Your soup that you feed him, your fingers stroking his hair, your voice sweetly singing him to sleep. Your lips on his forehead, whispering, “How are you feeling, Juju?”

Granted, because he’s sick, he can’t fully appreciate it without the feeling that his body is turning against him. But it’s worth it, it’s easily worth it.

So, the day that he wakes up with a low temperature, feeling absolutely fine, he still manages to cough pitifully and throw out the word to Jaehee that he simply has to take another day off.

You have a knowing smile on your face, but when he slips his arms around your waist, with his face buried in your neck, you still hold him just as warmly, and Jumin is so, so, so in love with you. Nothing could possibly stand to be better than this. One hand absentmindedly strokes his hair while you type on your phone with the other hand, communicating with someone from work.

Your phone starts to ring; he only shifts minimally to get closer as you answer it. “Hey, what’s up?”

He can hear the person who called—it’s one of your friends. “Hey! Check your messages, I won that ukulele I told you I would win last time.”

The sound of your laugh is so melodious, he’d do anything to get drunk on it. “Win another one for me, I’ll hang it up in my closet.”

“Yeah, right.” Your friend snorts. “I wish you were able to come. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”

“I know, but Jumin really doesn’t feel well. I couldn’t just leave him at home alone.” As though your friend can see, you plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll go another time, definitely.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Alright, I have to go. Give the husband all my love, I hope he feels better.”

“Will do. Bye, have fun!”

With that, you hang up, resuming the scrolling through your phone and the stroking of his hair. Jumin is still, for good reason.

You had meant to go out with your friends today. And due to his not-actually-sick state, you had canceled on them.

Hadn’t he told you to put him second to your own self? But he can’t pin this on you, not when he was the one faking. A terrible feeling begins to rise in his chest, causing him to move away from you and stare at you with a guilty expression.

“Is your neck finally tired of…” You trail off when you look at him, furrowing your brows. “What happened?”

“You were meant to go out today.”

A small frown forms on your face. “Um…we made plans, yeah. But you were sick—“

“I wasn’t,” he confesses, ironically sick to his stomach. “I just wanted to take another day off and spend some time with you.”

“I know that.”

“I—you know?”

The frown on your face is replaced by a tiny smile, as you tug gently to bring him back into your arms. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Yes I am.” He pouts, still upset but more calm now that you don’t seem disappointed.

“Honey, the one time I kissed your finger after you got a papercut, you somehow got a papercut on every finger the following week.”

Jumin blushes, but you’re not wrong—he just craves your attention. You simply make everything better.

“More importantly,” and now you pull him into your chest, settling back into the same comfortable position with a kiss on his forehead, “I’m faking just as much as you, because I love it when you do things like this. Why would I complain? I get to spend time with you.”

This is what it feels like, Jumin is certain, to be loved. To be cared for and adored so deeply that it leaves an ache in one’s chest. “The next time,” he murmurs, as your hand finds purchase in his hair once more, “The next time you would like to go out to an amusement park with your friends, please let me know. I can buy it out for the day.” A thoughtful pause. “Or forever.”

Another soft kiss, he’s tempted to keep going, to make more and more outrageous promises just to earn each and every press of your lips to his skin. “My friends will appreciate that. I think the park is already owned by C&R, actually.” You chuckle. “Some fast passes though? I wouldn’t say no.”

Fast passes? He’ll ask you what in the world those are just as soon as he finishes kissing you (something a fake sick person can, thankfully, afford to do).

///

A soft knock on the door.

“Mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice to a polite volume. “I’ve played with all my toys. May I please come out now?”

Silence.

Jumin clears his throat, trying his best not to look behind him, just three steps down. It’s dark down there, and he knows it is not logical to be afraid of the dark, but even the logic does little to quell the growing fear inside him.

“Mother? It…it has been a few hours now.” Fourteen hours, he counted on the tiny clock that ticks a little too loudly in the basement. “May I please be let out? I’m starting to get hungry.”

That’s a lie, but he doesn’t think she’ll know. The truth is he began to get hungry hours ago, and is now close to starving. As if on cue, his stomach growls.

Jumin knocks again, the dread he feels growing with every second. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I’ll play with my toys. I’ll be normal. Please let me out.”

None of it makes any sense to him. In all the books he reads, none of the mothers lock their sons up in the basement. But then maybe none of the sons are as strange and abnormal as he is. They didn’t need to be locked up like he did.

Still, even if he deserves this, the loneliness is starting to scare him.

“Please.” Childish tears start to prick at his eyes. “Mother? I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”

The only response he gets is the silence, beckoning him to come back to the darkness where he belongs. With a trembling lip, he turns to face it once more.

The doorknob jiggles.

He whips his head back, not daring to believe it. Is this punishment finally over?

The first thing he’s going to do after he eats is call Jihyun, ask him if he’d like to go to the park nearby. Anything to go outside, in the light, with other people.

Except, to his horror, when the door finally opens, it’s not his mother standing at the top, but his stepmother.

“No,” Jumin whispers, stumbling back. He misses one step and trips, hands on the cement floor as he stares, terrified, at the woman. “Please, no. Where’s Mother?”

The woman at the top laughs, a sound that seems to make others happy but only serves to suffocate him further. He’ll choose to stay in the darkness for a hundred more hours before going upstairs to see her. “What’s this? Another woman in your life, Jumin? What a lady killer!”

He shakes his head desperately, as though to tell her that there’s no one, there’s no need for her to get possessive.

It doesn’t work.

“I’m your mother, Jumi.” He hates that nickname. “Shouldn’t you spend more time with me? You know I love our time together. I know you love it too.”

No, no, no, no, no. He’s on his feet in an instant, scrambling back away from her as fast as possible. His back hits the shelf, no longer a child but an adult, and yet still equally as pathetic.

“Your father doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore. You’re all I have, Jumi.” Her eyes turn cold. “But it looks like you’ve found someone else, haven’t you? You’ve replaced me so easily.”

Now her gaze is focused somewhere else. Jumin follows it, peers through the darkness, only to see…

You.

Relief floods his chest all at once. You are his solace, to hold close and worship. You are the only person to ever understand him, to love him without hurting him. You have accepted him no matter how much he’s shown you that he doesn’t deserve any of your care. As long as you are by his side, he can face anything.

“Jumin.” Even his name sounds so much nicer coming from you. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away.

He takes one step towards you.

You speak again, but it doesn’t sound the same this time.

“Jumin.” Now that he can see your face properly, you look…angry. “Don’t come any closer.”

Immediately, he stops, and that sharp fear grips his throat, squeezing.

“You’re fucked up, Jumin.”

The words spit out of you like a spear, hitting him right in the center.

It can’t be you talking. You don’t say things like that. You always tell him you love him, that you understand him, that you adore him.

But maybe you’ve just…had enough.

Tears begin to spill from his eyes. You stand before him, his heart in your hands, and you look at him with such disgust that he hopes the darkness in here opens up and swallows him.

“I’m leaving,” you say firmly, “don’t follow me.”

“Please,” he gasps, shakily reaching a hand out. “Please don’t leave me here, my love.”

But you don’t listen. You step up the stairs, grip the door, and with one last look of vitriol, you slam it shut, damning him to the darkness forever.

Jumin wakes with a gasp that’s really a sob, head jerking up and slamming against yours.

“Ah!” You grip your forehead, wincing in pain from your position above him. “Ow ow ow, that hurt!”

Like he’s in auto mode, Jumin sits up, touching your cheek with a terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, my love, let me call the doctor. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” You wince again, rubbing your forehead. “It’ll probably bruise later, but I can deal with it.”

He hurt you. He hurt you.

But you don’t have any of the hate that your dream counterpart did in her eyes. Instead, yours are filled with concern, and you cup his cheeks with such gentleness that he closes his eyes, immediately melting in your hands.

“Were you having a nightmare?” You kiss his forehead. “You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep.”

As much as he wants to bask in your worry for centuries, it doesn’t stop the guilt that threatens to spill. “I apologize for waking you, my love. And for hitting you. I—I was having a nightmare, yes, but I’m alright now.”

“Jumin.”

“If you’d like, I can make some tea for you to help you go back to sleep—“

“Jumin.” Your lips are on his forehead again. “You’re crying, sweetheart.”

So he is. It’s strange he didn’t realize, but there are indeed tears wetting his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet your gaze, looking at him so sincerely and with such care that this time he actually feels the tears pour down.

“Oh,” you breathe, brows meeting in concern. Your thumbs wipe his tears away diligently, and your lips begin to kiss every spot you wipe. Jumin trembles under your touch, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of you and simultaneously considering crying forever so that you stay here forever too. “What is it, honey? Please tell me how I can help.”

He wants to. But all he can manage to do is grip the back of your shirt in his hands, bury his face in your shoulder, and sob.

Not even for a second do you let him go. He doesn’t know how long he stays in your arms, seconds, minutes or hours. He cries, and cries, and cries, until his eyes feel swollen. and all the while your hand strokes his hair, your lips kiss his cheek, and your voice comes out in soothing whispers.

It’s okay.

I’m right here, I’m here for you.

You have me forever.

We’re going to get through this.

I promise I’ll stay with you as long as you want.

Even though he hasn’t told you what his nightmare was about, you still somehow know exactly what to say.

Even when he finally tires himself out, Jumin can’t stand the thought of not being held by you. He’s never felt this safe, this protected, in his entire life. He continues to grip your shirt tightly, breathing in and out, chest heaving. Any second now, he thinks. Any second now, you’re going to pull away and see how awful he is when he clings to you again, like a child.

You do no such thing. Instead, you lean back against the headboard, gently guiding his head to rest on your chest. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he shifts so that he’s sitting curled into you and pulls you forward gently to place a pillow behind your back. This way, he can hear your heartbeat.

And it’s that steady rhythm that makes his eyes start to droop.

But if he falls asleep again, he risks having another nightmare.

“Sleep,” you murmur, kissing his temple. Jumin’s eyes close on instinct. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise knocks him right out.

///

When he wakes, you’ve kept your promise, and you’re in the same unfortunate position, head lulled to the side as you snooze.

An indescribable feeling settles upon him. It’s not just one feeling, in fact, but multiple. Guilt, because he forced you to sleep like this throughout the night. Gratitude, because he’s pretty sure he’s in the arms of an angel sent from above. And most importantly, he feels white hot love, because he has clearly married the only person in this world worth a damn.

And as much as he wants to stay like this, he knows that will surely not bode well for the chiropractor appointment he plans to schedule for you. So Jumin slips out of your embrace gently, taking good care to lay your head down on the pillow. With you picturesque in front of him, he places a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”

“Ju,” you mumble in your sleep. Your hand seems to reach for something, stopping when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

An angel, indeed.

Jumin gets up fully, taking the time to brush his teeth and freshen up before going into the kitchen to whip something up for breakfast. He wasn’t expected at the office until after lunch, so he had time to really make something nice. Chocolate chip pancakes, instead of his usual strawberry.

As he makes the batter, he thinks. Last night was…an anomaly. There should be no reason for him to dream of people that no longer matter anymore. His present is the most important, and his present is, thanks to you, leagues and leagues ahead of his past anyway. He wants to forget it all, forget his mother and stepmother and even Sarah Choi, who, while she hadn’t made an appearance last night, had been in his nightmares more than once, in a bleak alternate reality where he actually married her.

But he knows who he really married. It’s the person whose arms are sneaking around his waist right now. You.

“Morning.” Your voice is exceedingly pleasant, especially when it’s cooed in his ear. “You’re going in late, right?”

“Yes.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand, pressing his lips to each knuckle. “And you, my princess?”

“All from home today, my prince.”

Inwardly, he feels a quick twinge of irritation. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you. I should call out.”

“I’m never going to dissuade you of that.” You kiss him right on the nape of his neck; Jumin shudders. “But it’s up to you.”

“I’ll end up burning these pancakes if you keep distracting me.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Your laugh is so pretty, he thinks, and he didn’t think he could describe laughter as pretty before you. “Um, before I get too off topic…don’t you think we should talk, Jumin?”

He knew you weren’t going to simply forget the fact that he had cried himself back to sleep last night. Luckily, before you’d woken, he’d already prepared for such a scenario.

“I apologize for disrupting your sleep. I had a disturbing dream, but it will not happen again.”

For a second, he thinks it’s enough to stop you from asking any further questions, up until he feels your arms slide out from under him. The next thing he knows, you’re turning off the stove before he can start on the next batch of pancakes.

Then, you’re gently turning him so he’s facing you, looking at you right in the eye. Jumin has seen that look before. It’s way too determined for even his stubborn nature, and it always comes out when you’re about to do whatever you want (a rare delight, given your selfless nature, but one he enjoys every time).

Your hands loop around his neck, and you kiss his cheek. Jumin closes his eyes as you speak softly. “Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”

It’s amazing that you think anything could bother him when you’re this close, calling him that.

“Just a nightmare,” he says softly, but you clearly don’t buy it.

“I have nightmares too, it’s very rare that one of them affects me that much after I wake up.”

“A bad nightmare.”

The other version of you flashes in his head again. You’re fucked up, Jumin. But she’s not you, and even though he thinks for a terrible second that you’re going to shove him away, you pull him in for a hug instead, warm and welcoming and cozy. The scent of your nameless-brand shampoo fills his senses—it makes him desperately want to go back to bed.

“Please,” you breathe on his neck. “That’s what you were saying last night. Please, Mother. Please, no. Please, don’t leave me.”

His hands grip the back of your shirt.

“Please talk to me, Jumin,” you plead. “Please.”

Somehow, he has to keep from crying this time. How pathetic can one man be? But he also has to acquiesce to your request, because you’re you, and he cannot deny you no matter how hard he tries. If you want him bare, you shall have him bare. If you want him destroyed, he will destroy himself in an instant.

“Alright,” he concedes, trembling.

Not wanting the kitchen, where you and him cook together and laugh together (and a couple other things too), to become associated with these tainted memories, he guides you to the couch, hands holding yours. You promptly get into your favorite position, on his lap with your knees on each side. With a sigh, he rests his head on your shoulder, the fabric of your shirt seemingly smoothing out the creases in his forehead.

Your lips on his skin and your whispered words of encouragement give him a courage he wasn’t aware he possessed. Jumin talks.

“You have not met my mother yet. There is…good reason for that. A week before our wedding, she sent me the profile of a woman she wanted me to marry. I refused, of course. But that is the first time she has reached out to me in years.” He clears his throat. “She and I did not have a pleasant relationship. I think some part of me was very disappointing to her, because instead of giving her the true challenge of parenthood I molded to exactly what she wanted me to be. She recognized that I was…abnormal.”

In the span of a few seconds, your eyes have hardened more than he’s ever seen them harden before. This isn’t determined. This isn’t even pissed. This is raw anger.

“Abnormal?” There’s a bite to your words. “Is that her way of saying she was blessed with an intelligent, kind child?”

“You are kind,” Jumin whispers, cupping your chin to press a short kiss to your lips. “As a child, I was perhaps more robotic than I am now. I took to the world of business rather quickly.”

“You were brilliant, Jumin. Were and still are.”

If he kisses you after your every reassurance, the two of you will never leave this couch (not that he necessarily minds that idea). The more disturbing risk is that he will break down in front of you, if he starts elaborating, not to mention when he begins to talk about his stepmother as well.

But that’s a risk that Jumin can now accept. He understands now, that he hasn’t known love before you, and that there will be a great many times he will feel afraid, but he also knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more.

Taking a deep breath, he continues.

///

Jumin is addicted—addicted—to making you cum.

The face you make when you orgasm—eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream, head thrown back—is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He considers spending eternity with his head between your legs, recklessly licking you to completion again and again.

The sounds you make—God. They have him rolling his hips against the sheets, so close to finishing just from your taste. It’s an obsession now, one that’s been growing ever since you two were married. A stressful day or a bad meeting or even projects being set back for whatever reason, Jumin can get all that frustration out as long as you allow him to spread your legs and devour you. As long as you squeal on his tongue, make a mess of his face, cum on his lips once or twice or more. He only stops when you beg him to.

He could taste you forever.

But he reconsiders this commitment after he experiences the feeling of you coming on his cock once more.

A choked cry escapes him when he feels your walls clench around him. For a second, he can’t move, too lost in the way your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin. It’s the most pleasurable pain he’s ever had the fortune of experiencing.

“Ju-min,” you whine, legs clasping around his waist as he continues to thrust lazily, seeking his own release, “more, please.”

It really is always nice to know that he’s not the only one affected, enthralled and addicted to this madness.

///

Returning home to silence is still better than returning home to the sound of soft crying.

Jumin is on high alert in an instant, not bothering to take his suit or even his shoes off. You’re curled up on the couch, wiping your cheeks aggressively when you catch sight of him.

“J-Jumin, I didn’t hear you come in. Um…” You swallow, dried tears still obvious on your face. “I haven’t made anything, let me call the chef.”

He crosses the rug over to you almost blindly. There’s nothing else in his head, only you—your tears—you’re crying—you’re crying and he wasn’t here. His hands cup your face, wiping another fresh tear that rolls down your cheek as you look up at him, shaking.

“Who did it?” There’s a white-hot anger pulsing inside of him. He never sees you cry. “Tell me who I need to kill.”

A soft gasp escapes you, and you shake your head frantically as he sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his own and pressing reverent kisses to your knuckles. “N-no one did anything—I promise I’m fine, h-honey, please get up—“

Your laptop is set to the side, but the only thing on it is an email draft, giving him no clues at all. The last thing he desires is for you to have to recount that which distresses you, but he wants, needs, to ensure that you never get upset again.

“My love,” he swears, pressing his palms to yours, “please, tell me what happened. Was it something I did? One of the employees in the building?”

You whisper frantically, “No,” but even as you do another fresh wave of tears drip down your face.

Jumin wants to scream, wants to hurt someone, whoever is responsible, but he’s helpless, and so he lets intuition guide him, rising up until he’s next to you on the couch, and he’s pulling you in.

With a firm grip on his suit, you bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking. In this moment, he recalls the predicament from that night, when the roles were reversed. How you’d simply let him cry, and held him all the while. Is he capable of…can he possibly bring you the same peace you bring him? Could you allow him to comfort you in the same way?

No matter what, he’s going to try. Anything for you.

Placing a kiss to your hair, he tightens his arms around you and murmurs sweet nothings, making sure you hear all of them. Everything from you’re the strongest person i know to i’m here for you, my love, i’ll be with you till the end of time.

“It’s just so much,” you finally hiccup, sniffing, “I’m busy all the time, they dump every project on me, I never get a chance to just take some time for myself and breathe! I’m always on some call, writing some email, visiting some area, I just want it all to stop. And you’re busier than me, and you do it so effortlessly, I can’t imagine how pathetic I must look compared to you.”

“You’re worth a hundred of me.” His voice is fierce, and he meets your eyes with his entire honest conviction. “Nothing about you is pathetic. You…you’re hardworking, you’re talented, you’re brave, and you’re the kindest person I know. I do not deserve you. I’ve never deserved you.”

“Please don’t say that,” you whimper, face still wet. He squeezes you tighter.

“I apologize. This isn’t about me. You need a break, sweetheart. Please, just request a week or at least a day off.”

“Jumin, I can’t—”

“I’ll request off too. Whenever you get a break, I’ll schedule one at the same time, and then I’ll take you wherever you desire, or we can simply spend it in the penthouse, and lay in bed all day. Or I could buy your company,” he half threatens, half jokes.

You let out a weak laugh, sinking into him, but he feels the tension in your shoulders release just slightly. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he quickly texts for the chef to come by within the next hour, then tosses his phone aside to hold you better, which is when he catches sight of your own phone. On the screen is an image of the chatroom—a screenshot, he realizes, since his own messages are in it and he hasn’t been on the messenger today.

Your gaze follows his, and a slight smile finally forms on your face. “Messages from when we first met. Ah, the day I came to your apartment, I think.”

Oh, no. To put it lightly, those days were not a good time for him (although he’d never say such a thing, because he finds it cruel to say that some of the hardest days of his life included the one where he met the most wonderful woman in the world). Heaven knows what foolish things he’d said, he’s tried to block out most of the times that didn’t include the sight of you in front of him.

“They calm me down,” you admit softly, “the screenshots I have. I’m glad I took them, I have almost a hundred pictures that remind me of all the butterflies I would get when I talked to you. Knowing you’re my husband is the biggest calm of the storm.” Your cheeks are still stained with tears, but in your eyes is a newfound admiration as you and him look at each other, as though you have all the time in the world.

Jumin’s heart seizes.

“I’ll request a week off.” You reach up, a thumb on his cheek. “Thank you, Jumin.”

Surely, he thinks, being needed by you is the best experience of all.

///

“Thank you.” Your voice breaks the silence, muffled on his skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”

Your husband kisses you, impatient as always, and you adore it.

“You’re welcome,” he breathes.

#jumin x reader #jumin x mc #jumin han #mystic messenger #mysme x reader #jumin han x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin han smut #valkyrie stories

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minnillea · 5 months

Text

OVERNIGHT STAY (Keegan P. Russ X Reader)

Wrote more for Keegan enemies to lovers style bc, yes. (5k words)

CW: MDNI!, explicit content ahead, NSFW, smut, soft dom Keegan (really sweet), sub fem reader, play fighting, love bites, overstimulation, nipple play, pet names, creampie, fingering, edging, unholy amount of teasing, basically really hot and heavy make out session, and aftercare<3

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･｡.

The sky was gloomy, and the wind dragged all types of scrap as you stood in the middle of no man’s land while Keegan and you bickered back and forth like usual.

“You should have let me drive.” He growls at you as he throws you a condescending look.

“Your driving is awful! Every time you take the wheel, I get some sort of near-death experience!” You snap back, returning his energy.

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be stuck here if it wasn’t because of your stupidity.” He says with a cocky smirk visible under his mask before both of you are interrupted.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Elias barks at both of you, clearly done with your antics. “I'm tired of this bullshit between you too!” He finishes inspecting the vehicle before sighing. “I’m sleeping in this thing….or what’s left of it. You two can go check that decrepit cabin over there; I don’t care where you dumbasses sleep. I don’t want to hear anything from you two!”Elias leers at both of you with irritation before speaking with an intimidating snarl. “You two better start getting along, or I’ll make your lives hell! Now get out of my sight; they’ll pick us up by the morning.” Elias walks away, leaving both of you in complete silence.

Keegan glares at you before he takes in a sharp breath and walks the other way.

You look around at the barren wasteland for a moment before you scoff and trail behind him into the little structure. He pushes the door, and the rusted hinges give away immediately.

“This is all your fault; I hope you are aware of that.” Keegan groans as you step into the cabin and set a little lamp on a nightstand.

You huff before speaking in a mocking tone. “Don’t blame me just because you have no self-control.”

“And you take things way too far,” Keegan snaps back. “You always think you’re right."

You noticed the passage of time reflected in the small house, and it makes you wonder where the past inhabitants could be or if they survived.

“I’m not full of myself, unlike you.” You say raising a brow.

"Oh yeah, and you're an angel?" Keegan says sarcastically. “All that flirting with the commander and Hesh, like you're all that.”

“That’s not flirting- ” You scoff offended, he’s clearly trying to get under your skin.

“Whatever you say, princess.” Keegan crosses his arms over his chest and scowls at you. “There's only one bed, and I’m definitely sleeping on it, so you better keep your distance.”

You look at him with disdain as you shake the sheets and prep the bed.

Keegan goes to the foot of the bed and takes his backpack off, throwing it onto a chair in the corner. He then plops down on the bed and puts his hands behind his head.

You sigh before you go to change into something you can sleep in. Since no one is supposed to be around here, you figured you'd get comfortable. “Unbelievable, this is so dumb. Elias could have let one of us sleep in the vehicle, and that way no one suffers more than necessary.” You mumble under your breath.

"Yeah, I agree with you for once. It's awful. He probably wants to make us miserable and get back at us…or he really thinks he can force us to get along." Keegan rolls onto his side, facing away from you but keeping a guarded eye. He takes off his gear and shirt and throws them on the chair too. “You know, if you would stop running your mouth for five seconds, we wouldn't hate each other so much.”

Keegan was the type of person to only speak when necessary, but for some reason he was always eager to piss you off.

“For someone so quiet, you really can’t help yourself around me, huh? I’m just defending myself from your little attacks.” You spat back as you finished putting on some shorts and a comfy top.

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me, sweetheart.” He says in a mocking manner before chuckling with arrogance.

You roll your eyes with a sigh in response as you set your bag down before turning around. “………. don’t tell me you sleep shirtless.”

“Why? You don't like it?” Keegan chuckles lightly, then turns his upper body to face you. “You're one to talk; you aren’t wearing anything underneath that. I can tell.” Keegan lifts an eyebrow at you, smirking a little under the mask.

You cover yourself with your hands, embarrassed, as you look away to avoid meeting his icy eyes. “That’s because sleeping with a bra is uncomfortable!”

“And what about bras during the day time?” He teases. Keegan rolls over to face the other way. A small smirk plays at the corners of his mouth; he’s waiting for a reaction.

Your face contorts. “You little—I sometimes forget to put it back on, okay! Why are you even looking there in the first place?!”

Keegan laughs loudly and rolls over to look at you again. “Come on, you do it on purpose.” He sits up in bed and leans over so he’s eye-level with you. His eyebrow raises suggestively as he looks you up and down.

You throw the shirt you were wearing a second ago at his face to block his view. “I don’t jackass.” You say with irritation and embarrassment present in your tone.

“I bet you don't, princess.” Keegan chuckles once more. He lets the shirt hit his face with a stoic look before he rolls his eyes and pushes it away. Keegan stretches out across the bed, spreading out his arms and legs for a second before removing his mask. “Are you ready to sleep, or are you going to nag me all night long?”

“I’d like to torture you all night, but I need sleep too.” You say unamused as you hop on your side of the bed and turn off the lamp.

Keegan looks at you with a smirk. He watches you climb into bed for a moment before he finally turns back to face the other way and lays down.

"Good, I hope you have nightmares," he says as he closes his eyes and rolls over onto his stomach. Keegan doesn't speak or move again, but his breathing is somewhat shallow and rapid.

“How sweet of you~ ” You mock, rolling your eyes and hugging onto a pillow.

Keegan remains silent for several minutes until he finally groans and turns onto his back. He stretches like a cat, groaning all the while, and then he places a hand on the side of his head.

Keegan lifts his head and sits up to look at you, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares down at you with those piercing blue eyes of his.

You open an eye and try to ignore how good he looks right now, the moonlight coming through the window letting you see him perfectly. “What? You wanna fight?” You say in a mocking tone.

Keegan grins at you before kicking off the blankets and launching himself onto you. “Yeah, I do wanna fight, and I'll win, too.” The muscles on his arms and chest flex as he leans forward and tackles you to the bed to pin you down.

“Hey! Hmph!” You yelp in surprise as you try to fight back. Funnily enough, it’s not the first time you guys engage in play fighting out of spite, but this time he really caught you off guard.

“Give up” Keegan says, his voice low and teasing. He holds you below him, trapping you between his body and the bed. It's impossible to move. Keegan uses his hands to hold your arms down at your sides. He smirks and leans down closer to your face. “C'mon, surrender.”

You scoff before sticking out your tongue in defiance.

Keegan laughs and leans closer so that your faces are only a couple inches apart. He stares into your eyes deeply. “That's not going to help you; you are so childish.” He looks at you with a smirk. His eyes searching into yours. “What's the matter...can't handle me?” He mocks you as you struggle; you can feel his breath on your face.

Your cheeks grow hot as you glare at him. “You are a jerk!”

Keegan smiles and moves his face close enough so that your noses are almost touching. “I'm the jerk, huh?” He speaks with his husky voice as he stares you down. He holds that position for just a moment before he leans in and presses his lips against yours. He pulls you into a tight, passionate kiss.

Your eyes widen as you yelp softly.

Keegan continues to kiss you deeply, running his hands over your body. The feeling of your skin is intoxicating.

You feel yourself melting into him. His touch is unlike anything you've ever felt before.

Keegan breaks the kiss for a while but doesn't move away. Your mouth and his collide for a moment longer before he pulls away. His chest heaves with each breath.

You're both breathless.

You look up at him with doe eyes and slightly parted lips, speechless.

Keegan looks down at you with a mischievous smile. He runs a hand through his luscious hair before he speaks in a sultry tone. “You know, you're not as feisty as I thought. One kiss, and you turned into mush.”

You glower at him in response as you speak between your teeth. “You play so dirty.”

Keegan grins. “You can't tell me you don't like it," he says in a low whisper. "I can feel you trembling in excitement."

You look up at him coyly before looking away by turning your head to the side, embarrassed, and shutting your eyes in the process.

Keegan leans over and takes your chin, forcing you to look at him again. Those beautiful hunter eyes of his bore into yours. “Come on, look at me.”

He leans in towards your face again, and you see his eyes slowly close. Then your mouths come together again in another hot, heavy kiss. Keegan's hand reaches into the back of your hair as you moan softly. He grips at it and pulls you closer to his lips without inflicting any pain. Your tongues play together as Keegan takes control of the kiss and explores all over your mouth. He keeps his hold on you as he slowly pushes his knee more in between your tangled legs. He deepens the kiss even further, holding you close as his breath becomes raspy and he groans softly.

The sensation is overwhelming.

You place one of your hands on his shoulder as the other slithers its way up to be pressed up against his chest. You let little noises out, getting lost in it all as you no longer even remember why you were both arguing.

Keegan keeps kissing you for several more minutes before finally pulling back again. He looks at you, breathing somewhat heavily, before he speaks with a growl. “God, I want you. I can't wait another second." Keegan doesn't wait for a reply. He pulls you closer and rolls you over, so you get on all fours before he hovers on top of you.

You turn your head to look at him with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes.

Keegan lowers himself down onto you and pushes his body against yours, making your back arch and your chest get squished against the bed. He pins your arms down on the bed. Keegan can feel every inch of your soft body. He kisses down your neck and slowly starts working his way down as he holds your body tightly against his.

You groan slightly in response as he bites your neck abruptly. “D-dammit Keegan…”

Keegan kisses your bare shoulders and down the curve of your spine, making you shriver. He takes his time. Keegan grins at your protest, but he doesn't stop. He holds you tight against him as he slowly pulls your shirt upward, leaving your back exposed. He runs his hand lightly across your chest, making you moan softly. Keegan stops moving and keeps himself pressed against you. You can hear every breath he takes; his lips hover closely over your skin as he can feel you grow impatient. He then rests his head on your shoulder to speak softly beside your ear. “Just wait,” he whispers. “It's going to be worth it.” Keegan's hand moves down your body, and he grabs the waistband of your shorts. He starts to slowly pull them down your thighs, leaving them bunched around your knees and exposing your soft flesh. Keegan kisses up your bare back again as he playfully fondles your soft butt. He then proceeds to bite at the skin on your shoulder and then licks the spot with his tongue. You can feel him breathing against you as he continues kissing and biting your skin.

You turn your head again to get a better look at him.

Keegan leans down, and his mouth meets yours again, kissing you deeply.

You moan softly as you press your butt against him playfully, asking for more.

Keegan moves on top of you completely, his weight pressing down on your back. You can feel his excitement pressing against you.

He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him. His mouth moves back to your ear again, and he makes a soft sound. “Tell me what is it. What do you want? Tell me what you really want.” Keegan's voice is barely more than a whisper. His breath tickles your skin as you lie under him on the bed.

“I want you…” You say with a hint of desperation as you keep moving your hips to rub against him.

Keegan's breath catches in the back of his throat at your actions. His eyes dilate slightly before he presses his hips harder against you. He groans softly and kisses your neck again as he moves his hand to grab onto your breast. He starts to grind against you too, his hips pressing into yours.

You can feel a pool of arousal leaking from between your thighs as you can’t wait anymore.

Keegan sits back up on the bed, pulling his belt off, accompanied by a rustling sound, before throwing it away from him. His eyes flicker over your body, and his breathing quickens when he sees how wet you are. “Oh, would you look at that?” He says with amusement dripping off his sly tone. I could eat you up right now. He grins at you, his voice husky and full of desire. Keegan sees you trying to peek, so he flips you around so your back is against the bed before he throws your clothes to the side. He climbs between your legs. Your bare back is against the soft sheets. He leans down over you, his hands on either side of your body, with your legs spread open. His piercing gaze over your beautiful figure before meeting your eyes again.

The intensity of this moment unmistakably hangs in the air.

You bring your hands up to cover your chest shyly before biting into the nail of your thumb as your eyes trail down his body with curiosity. You also take the moment to carefully look at the tattoos on him.

Keegan glances at you, noticing the way you're looking at him. He smirks and runs his hand up your knee to your upper thigh. His fingers lightly glide across your bare skin. Keegan moves his hand towards your inner thigh as his eyes drop down to your soaking cunt. He slides his thumb as he presses onto your sensitive bud, agonizing slowly before he introduces two fingers together and gradually opens them teasingly as he takes a look at the dripping slick.

Your breath hitches as a result of his actions.

Keegan leans closer to you again, his body hovering over yours as he whispers lowly. "God, you're driving me insane.” He presses his lips onto yours hungrily.

You can feel the subtle way he toys with your sensitive clit as his other hand grabs onto your waist.

Keegan is breathing slowly and deeply. His hot breath brushes against your skin.

You can feel his fingertips making their way into you again with a squelch.

Keegan takes his sweet time touching you. You feel the warm and tight sensation of his fingers teasing your sweet spot. After a while, you are so close. It seems as if he is holding his breath and carefully studying you.

You yelp and tense up a little as you look at him with pleading eyes.

Then, suddenly, Keegan stops.

You whine out, frustrated at the loss of movement.

Keegan lifts himself up slightly and moves his fingers away from you and into his mouth, tasting your arousal with a breathy growl. He looks down at you and chuckles quietly before smiling. “So impatient. I guess I’m going to have to teach you how to wait…. I think you're more than ready.” He looks down at you. There's something in his eyes that you don't think you've ever seen before.

“It’s very late.” You mumble in your defense before being forced to shut up by him slowly pushing his aching cock into you.

He angles himself perfectly before his tongue slides into your mouth. Keegan presses into you until you're fully pinned with a hand holding your wrists over your head.

(“This asshole! I had a point.”) You think before your thoughts slowly fade away as you squirm and moan loudly into him.

Keegan keeps slowly moving into you; his movements slow and steady. It's almost as if he is savoring every single moment of this. As his tongue caresses yours, you feel his chest heaving, and your bodies are squished against each other. His hand is resting on your hip as the other goes to hold your chin up.

You close your eyes and give into the moment, allowing him to take over your body.

Keegan bottoms out and starts a steady but slow pace. His lips are still pressed against you as his tongue explores your mouth.

Keegan's other hand moves up your body, lightly caressing your skin in the way.

You have your eyes closed shut, and move your hands up to hold onto his shoulders with a muffled moan, digging your nails into them.

Keegan groans when you dig into his flesh as he kneads one of your breasts with a hand before rolling your sensitive perky nipple in between his fingers.

You can only sense him in this moment, his breath against your skin, the vibration of his groans, his touch. It's as if you're both drowning in your own intense need for one another.

He speeds up slightly, bringing his rhythm to the perfect pace. Your back arches beneath him, almost instinctively as you moan. Keegan kisses down your neck and moves his mouth down to your chest to suck on your other hard nipple. You can feel his hot breath as he continues kissing you, and his hand begins to make its way down your body.

You are quickly reduced to a moaning mess, and you tremble as your eyes start to tear up. Keegan chuckles when he hears the way in which you moan and then kisses your collarbone. His fingers meet your clit, and he quickly pinches it softly.

Keegan keeps kissing you deeply and relentlessly, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and his thumb rubs circles on your clit slowly.

You start to get very loud, which causes him to find a way to shush you just in case.

Keegan's other hand goes to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck and gently applying pressure. There's a certain intensity to it, but he's still tender with each touch. The way you are moaning and writhing below him is like a drug. Every sound you make sends a wave of pleasure throughout his body.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and it’s making him go crazy. Keegan's mouth leaves yours, and he starts to kiss down your chest. His tongue works every inch of the skin there. His hand releases the hold it has on your throat. He kisses from the center of your chest all the way down to your stomach. Keegan's breath is heavy, and he sounds almost as if he is in a daze. His fingers press into the skin of your hip, leaving marks, even though he is trying his best to be gentle.

The tears pool in your eyes as you look directly into his, too lost in pleasure.

Keegan looks down at you. Your hair is disheveled, and your lips are slightly red as he continues moving his hands all over your body. Every touch and every stroke of his fingers makes you shiver.

The look in Keegan's eyes is almost obsessive. He's drinking in every part of you.

“F-fuck.” You say overwhelmed by how full you feel, accompanied by a series of whimpers.

Keegan doesn't stop moving. His gaze is focused on your body as your tits bounce up and down.

You feel his warm breath on your skin as he bites your ear. He then leans down and kisses you deeply. You whine as your eyes roll back before they are shut tightly. You dig your nails into him hard enough to draw blood.

Keegan brings his hand up to hold you by your wrists again. Your arms rest on the bed, on top of your head, and your legs are still wrapped around him, squeezing him harder. He bites your shoulder softly in a playful way to get back at you, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers keep moving over your weak spots.

You pant heavily as you moan, completely dumbed down by this point.

Keegan presses his lips against your shoulder, where he bit you. Your body is still tightly pinned beneath him. Your skin under his touch is hot and sensitive by now. He moves one hand to your lips and lightly brushes them with his thumb. He notices your lips are trembling, and you can't get enough of his touch. Keegan looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. You feel as if you could lose yourself in those eyes right now.

You take his finger in between your lips and lewdly suck on it as he moves against your body. You can hear a low rumble in his throat as his breath quickens.

Keegan slowly starts to pick up the pace. His hand rests on your hip as the other softly tucks one of your nipples. His mouth meets yours again, his kiss growing more aggressive and he pushes more against you. His lips never leaving yours.

You squirm and moan loudly, feeling like you’ll lose your mind.

Keegan's kisses become more urgent and desperate.

You feel as if you're being drowned by stimulation.

Every touch, every kiss, and every breath coming from him is being picked up by you.

You can't think of anything else but him. You whine helplessly as you raise one of your hands and find a way to his, grabbing onto it tightly and interlocking your fingers with his. [I’m sorry this is so lewd] He growls and squeezes your hand in return. His mouth leaves yours, and he presses his lips against your neck before you feel his teeth just barely touching your skin.

You feel overwhelmed, as your senses are totally flooded.

Keegan's other hand still has a hold of your hip, his fingers pressing against it tightly.

You yelp and squeeze around him tighter, feeling like you are about to snap. “Hah! K-Keegan! I’m- “

Keegan chuckles as he presses his teeth harder onto your neck, holding you by your hip against him as he thrusts into you.

You can’t help it, and you quickly come undone with a whine, dragging him over the edge as well.

Keegan’s body jerks forward slightly as he lets out a breathy grunt and hot strings of cum spurt inside of you. “Goddammit”

You shake violently and wail out as he finishes riding his high with a couple of thrusts while your face contorts in pleasure.

His hand is still intertwined with yours tightly. Keegan exhales sharply as his body relaxes; his breathing is heavy and agitated. He gives you a quick peck on the forehead before slowly moving to sit up. He takes a really good look at your beautiful, fucked out form for a second before he gently wipes some of your tears away with his hand. His eyes seem so different and tender now. “You were so loud.” He mocks you with a smirk.

You pant heavily with a pouty face as you tremble slightly. “What? You t-think Elias could have heard?” You say breathlessly, almost giggling.

Keegan chuckles, his eyes calm, as he makes sure you are okay. He playfully rubs his thumb on your waist and moves his lips to meet yours yet again in a sweet, tender kiss before pulling back. “Good question. Hmmm~ I guess we'll find out when the sun is up. But for now, I think we should sleep. We're going on a mission soon, so we need our rest.” Keegan leans back again. He's using one arm to hold himself up, and the other arm is wrapping around your waist, his fingers slowly rubbing across your skin before he pulls out to scoop you up and roll onto his back.

You catch your breath as you melt into his arms comfortably before speaking softly in a playful tone. “I don’t think this is what Elias had in mind when he told us to get along.”

Keegan grins as you can feel his comforting heartbeat from there. “But in the end, I'd say we got along just fine. A little too much, maybe." He chuckles lowly.

He's patting your head tenderly and soothing you to sleep. Keegan is still pressed close to you, his chest rising and falling with every breath. His eyes slowly roam around the room for a moment, scanning it, before settling back down on your already sleeping form.

Eventually, he closes his eyes as well, and his body relaxes with his arms wrapped around you in a warm hug.

It’s really early in the morning, and he wakes up first. You were now facing down, nuzzling his chest.

Keegan opens his eyes and looks down at you, his lips curled up in a smirk. He caresses your hair with his hand before speaking with that husky voice of his. “Hey, sleepyhead.” Keegan rubs his thumb on your cheek gently to wake you up as he speaks to you softly. “You need to wake up soon. We gotta leave this place, remember?”

Your eyes slowly flutter open, and you look up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Morning, darlin’. " He keeps rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Get up before Elias comes in here and sees you like this.” He mocks.

You groan softly, wanting to sleep a little more, but you end up slowly sitting up with your hair looking puffy as you try to keep your eyes open.

Keegan chuckles and gently taps your chin with his finger to keep you awake. He looks over at you as you sit up. Keegan is still lying down and still has his arm around you.

“We don't have much time. We should head out now before Elias comes in here and chews us out.”Keegan's eyes look over your body, and he sees the love marks over your bare shoulders and neck as you are partially wrapped by the sheets. “And also, you might want to put some clothes on.” He raised a brow.

You quickly grow embarrassed as you realize you are naked and try to cover yourself better.

Keegan hands you your bag with clothes and chuckles in a playful tone. “Don't worry, I've seen it all.” He then turns to get himself geared up and give you space.

You pout at him before sliding into your uniform and fixing your hair. After you hop out of bed to be met by your wobbly legs.

He's putting on his belt when you get up, and he shakes his head playfully once he sees you wobbling. “What’s all that about?” He raises a brow again.

“Nothing….” You say putting on your shoes shyly.

“Don't you give me that. You almost fell over a second ago.” He laughs and finishes putting on his gear.

“I just tripped over something.” You blatantly lie before tying your boots.

“Oh really? What did you trip over?” Keegan is just teasing you a bit as he finishes putting on his helmet and fixing his mask. He stands up in front of you, searching for his shoes.

“…..your shoe” You lie again as you stand up and try to stretch to ease the aching you are feeling.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Are you all good to walk?” He asks as he grabs your shoulder briefly.

“Of course, I just tripped on a shoe.” You say defensively as you stand up straight.

“A shoe, right…” Keegan raises a brow in curiosity, and his eyes glance downward. His gaze quickly darts back up to your face.

“You forgot your bra.” He smirks slightly under the mask.

You had forgotten to put your bra on since you were feeling so sleepy.

You turn away, embarrassed, before removing your shirt and putting the bra around you as you try to clasp it from behind. You were out of it. “Ugh, of course I did.” You mumble under your breath.

He laughs softly and moves behind you. “Let me help. There, much better.” He pats your shoulder playfully. “Now let's go before Elias thinks we murdered each other during the night.”

You nod, put your shirt back on, and grab your things before giving him a warm smile and stepping out into the wasteland.

Keegan is a few steps behind you as he puts his rifle in place, but he keeps looking over at you repeatedly to make sure that you aren't tripping for any reason.

You see Elias sitting by the broken vehicle as he barks orders into his mic.

Shortly after he is done, he looks up at both of you walking towards him. “Oh, great, you guys didn’t behead each other last night; this is progress; I was about to drag your asses in here.”

Keegan chuckles and throws you a playful side glance. “It was a close one, though,” he says with a smirk visible under his mask. Elias rolls his eyes before your ride arrives.

578 notes · View notes

manestjerne · 8 days

Text

I'll do that again for you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: Bucky pushes you away again and you let him this time.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, swearing, comfort, a little fluff, doubts, angry behavior, mentions of physical abuse and injuries, crying. Let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: I'm not sure about this one, but it's been on my mind for so long I had to finally sit down and write it all down. Hope you enjoy it guys <3

I walked into Bucky’s apartment and tossed my keys on the dining table before opening the fridge and getting myself a bottle of water. I looked around slowly and walked to the pile of bedsheets on the floor. I picked them up before sitting down on the couch. The quiet sound of shower in the other room seemed to wash all my worries away, but I knew they will come back the moment I see him. His deep blue, tired eyes full of regret and and guilt, his usually steady hands shaking whenever we were alone. All the things no one else besides me was allowed to see. Things that only I could perceive in a conference room full of people. Things I couldn’t do anything about. He was more devastated than ever, when Steve started talking about leaving him. Leaving us, but Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around that, believing I have already found my peace in other people. As compassionate as he was, he never saw how lonely I was since I was trying to get him his life back. But I never blamed him.

The peaceful sound of water flowing got quiet unexpectedly, making me snap back to reality. I heard quiet footsteps getting closer and my heart started pounding in my chest.

„Hey sweets, you’re here early.”

He said calmly, sitting on the couch next to me. I only replied with a smile, realizing he looks worse than usually. He wasn’t surprised I was here, I always were on friday mornings. We talked about his last therapy session before going to the compound together, it was our routine. The thing that kept us both on tracks, helping to get a steady rhythm in our messed up lives, something to stick with for once. But today my thoughts were focused on something else, I didn’t care about the therapy, knowing he might finally found something better to help him get his life together.

„How was your date yesterday?”

„It was awful and I don’t want to talk about it.”

His reply was dry and harsh. He didn’t do that often while talking to me. He had a soft spot there, always treating me gently and respectful, but I knew this moment would come, sooner or later. I knew the perfect bubble of our strange relationship would finally burst, because he couldn’t handle it. I knew it would change for him, but never for me, I felt the same way since I met him, when he squeezed my throat so hard that I passed out and had to look at the bruises covering my body for the next two weeks, whenever I passed a mirror. But even as the Winter Soldier, his eyes were the same, that’s why I chose to help Steve get him back. That’s why I had the worst possible fight with Tony, when he told me I can’t just pick up assassins from the streets and adopt them like stray cats. He never said that about Wanda, he never called Nat an assassin, but he never hesitated when it came to Bucky. Thinking about that sent shivers down my spine, remembering how much I had to give up to bring things back to normal, to help them understand, that the Winter Soldier is not the person standing in front of them.

„So I chose a wrong person again?”

I asked with a weak smile. It wasn’t the first date he didn’t enjoy, but he never blamed me for that.

„You chose the wrong thing for me, I don’t get why do you want me to find a fucking love of my life by setting me up on hookups I don’t want to attend.”

His voice started to sound unsettling, I shifted in my seat and straightened my back, looking at him carefully. He tried to do that earlier, to push me away by scaring me, but I never let him. I knew he would never hurt me, too focused on protecting me at all costs, like his life depended on it.

„Don’t be such a dick and stop blaming me for your poor love life, I’m just trying to help you get back to reality.”

I was surprised by my own words, I never spoke to him that way, no matter how he treated me. I felt a wave of frustration flushing through my veins, making me feel like my blood is boiling. I looked at his hands, his metal fingers clenching in a fist, the flesh hand rubbing on the soft fabric of his jeans, but I knew how much they were trembling at this moment and how much he was fighting himself not to break the character he was trying to play.

„I never asked for it.”

His jaw clenched and I felt a sting in my chest at his words. No matter how grateful he was for me being there, he would never admit it, he would never say how much he needed and appreciated all I ever did for him.

„Do you want me to leave?”

I decided to make it easier for him, knowing he would struggle with saying it out loud. He never wanted me to leave his side, but he thought it was the right thing, and I couldn’t fight it anymore.

„I don’t want you to play a babysitter anymore, seeing one shrink at a time is enough.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes, almost making me believe his words and for the first time I felt some kind of doubt. My safe place by his side was slowly fading away as he kept looking at me with something what felt like blame in his eyes. I shrinked into my seat trying to find any words, but every time I opened my mouth the room was filled with nothing but silence.

„Do you want me to leave?”

I repeated myself quietly, not able to find any other words suitable for what I was feeling at the moment.

„Are you even fucking listening?”

He wasn’t angry, but frustrated. I didn’t flinch at his voice, but I could feel the tears filling up my eyes slowly. I got up and picked my keys up from the table. After a few short breaths I found the courage to face him again.

„That’s what I do all the time, James. I listen. I wish you could do that for once.”

With my last word I turned away and walked to the door. He never tried to stop me, he didn’t say anything before I left. I held my tears back for as long as I could, letting go at the moment I sat in my car. I doubted all I did for him at the moment, knowing that one of us wasn’t ready for what we were doing, but I couldn’t realize who was the problem.

-----

„It’s been a week since you stopped attending the meetings. If Tony was mad earlier, you don’t want to know what Steve said today.”

Nat entered my room without knocking as always. She brought me a piece of Wanda’s cake, but I pushed the plate away, still refusing to eat whenever I wasn’t starving.

„I really just don’t want to see him, I’m not ready for that.”

She sat on the bed next to me, looking at me closely and sinking every word I said. It was the first time I said anything about what happened that day and she was willing to listen carefully to every word I say, analyzing every sigh and deep breath between them. I felt bad about treating her this way, she deserved to know everything, but I was scared of what I was going to say, I tried not to think about it, knowing my pain is now fully replaced with anger and frustration.

„I did everything I could, all this months I tried to help him and he acts like a fucking brat, trying to push me away. I’m so done with him, I’m not going back and begging him to let me do that all again. If he’s so devoted to Steve let’s just stick with that and let him live his pathetic little life without my interruptions.”

I said it all in one breath trying not to sound paranoid, but Nat only nodded slowly and laid on her back, staring at the perfectly white ceiling.

„I respect your every decision, but he’s only doing that to help you, and you know that. It’s you, who convinced me he means no harm and just can’t deal with his own mind, that’s why he’s trying to push you away. But it’s okay you’re tired with that, you don’t deserve it.”

I rolled on my stomach laying next to her and picked up the plate she put on the bed earlier. I stared at all the layers of my favorite toppings and saw how uneven it was looking, realizing Natasha helped Wanda with cooking this time. I smiled to myself remembering how much she hates doing that.

"Just wait for him to come back, he'll do it eventually."

„Thanks Nat, I’m glad you’re here.”

I said before dipping my fork in the cake.

---

Everyone got quiet when I entered the shared kitchen, it was the first time I was in the same room with Bucky since I left his apartment in tears. But I didn’t mind his presence, I knew he’s not going to bring it up when there were so many people around and I wasn’t planning on giving him a chance to speak to me in private. I walked up to the counter and poured myself a glass of water before heading to the coffee machine. I waited for my drink to brew when I turned away and rested my elbows on the counter behind me, almost tasting the tensed atmosphere I brought into the room.

„Are you planning on attending any meetings this week or should I just send you a fax with our arrangements?”

Tony asked calmly. He was mad at me, but acting as a human as possible he wasn’t planning on letting me know.

„Yeah, I’ll be there today.”

I shrugged my shoulders when Steve rolled his eyes, but I wasn’t looking at him. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the countertop in front of him, filled with guilt. He looked pathetic and I blamed myself for enjoying the view. After hearing a quiet beep my eyes left him to pick up the coffee.

„See you at 6.”

I said and started walking away lazily with mug in one hand and a glass of water in another. I was slowly getting used to this, feeling more comfortable leaving my room, not caring about the stares.

„You two should just fuck and let us get back to normal.”

I froze at Tony’s words and turned back to face him unconsciously.

„Come on, we can all see how you’re looking at each other, let’s finally get over this awkward phase.”

„Shut up.”

Bucky replied him firmly at his next words, but Tony just shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his cereal. I tightened my grip on the glass in my hand and looked him in the eyes, shaking my head slowly. Little did he know, we did that once, a few weeks back and it never helped, it never changed our relationship. I couldn’t find proper words to respond so I just walked away and stopped after passing the first corner, when no one could see me. I let my head fall back and took a few deep breaths, feeling the almost healed wound open up again. I started walking away when I heard footsteps approaching me, but he was faster and caught up with me after only a few seconds. He blocked my way with his body, towering over me before I could reach the elevator and hide in my room.

„He shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”

Bucky was trying to look me in the eyes but I successfully avoided it.

„Don’t act like you regret anything.”

I huffed and tried to pass him, but it was impossible. He raised his hand to tuck the strand of hair behind my ear but I flinched at his movement. He was visibly hurt by that, but not surprised, taking a step back his gaze never left me.

„Can we just talk like adult people do?”

„You’re not so good at that.”

I replied coldly, matching his earlier energy, trying to push him away as he did so many times.

„I am, you taught me that.”

„No, that’s a job for a shrink, so I’m not doing that again.”

„I know how you fee-„

„No, you fucking don’t!”

I replied throwing a glass at him, my words louder than necessary. He didn’t flinch, knowing I wasn’t actually aiming at him. The glass flew next to his face and shattered at the wall behind him.

„Fuck.”

I mumbled and dropped on my knees to pick up the glass from the floor. He kneeled besides me and pulled me away gently, grabbing the shattered pieces with his metal hand.

„You’ll hurt yourself.”

He said gently and I almost fell in his arms after these words, knowing how much I miss him and how much I want to be allowed to do that again.

„Like you care.”

I huffed in response and entered the elevator leaving him alone, kneeling in the puddle wetting his jeans, letting my frustration take over.

-----

I heard a soft knocking on my door. I raised myself on my elbows before realizing Nat and Wanda never knock, no matter what time they decide to come see me, so I rolled over with my back facing the door now. I didn’t want to talk to anybody else at the moment.

„I know you’re not sleeping, I can hear your uneven breath.”

I heard the words clearly, even tho his whisper was muffled by the door separating us. I didn’t respond, knowing he’ll come in eventually. I heard a resigned sigh before the door opened. His quiet footsteps echoing in my head when he circled the room and kneeled besides my bed to face me.

„I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

He said confidently waiting for my answer, but also knowing I’m not going to speak. He gave me a few seconds to make sure I don’t have anything to say before he spoke up again.

„I know how you feel, I can see how much you have to give up in order to help me. I know how alone you are, even with so many people supporting you. I know you did it all to make me feel better and I appreciate it more than anything, I need your help just as much as you think and more.”

I was a little confused at his words, actually admitting all the things he couldn’t say earlier.

„Then why are you like that?”

I felt the tears filling up my eyes again, but I didn’t care, letting them fall on my cheeks as our murmurs were filling up the quiet room.

„Because I can’t stand watching you do this. You don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you, but I can’t function without you. I need you back and I’ll do everything for you to forgive me again.”

His hand slowly landed on my cheek, wiping the tears away as he looked me in the eyes.

„See, that’s the problem. Again. How many times will you push me away before finally opening up and letting me really help you?”

My voice wasn’t shaking as much, feeling his touch calmed me down as always, no matter how I wanted to resist the feeling.

„I won’t do that ever again, I won’t hurt you. I just need you back, as clingy as always, being a pain in my ass every Friday morning, asking about my therapy. Making me watch all the stupid romantic movies, cuddling on the couch when I’m trying to move away. Dragging me back to bed when I lay on the floor and making me talk about my nightmares before we fall asleep again.”

"Who would think that Bucky Barnes could ever kneel before a woman."

"And I'll do it again for you."

I couldn’t help but giggled at his words, knowing how much I miss that feeling too, no matter he was trying to act like he hates it, he loved it more than I did. He smiled softly at my reaction, and I knew it was sincere. He slowly stood up and took the covers off me. Picking me up gently he moved me to make space for himself and laid next to me, resting my head on his chest before pulling the covers over us once more.

„Just come back for the last time and I promise I won’t act like a brat and start treating you as you deserve. I would do anything for you and I can’t run from it anymore. I’m ready to give you everything I can and finally take care of you, like you did this whole time.”

He brushed his fingers through my hair and I nodded slowly, knowing he finally understood that pushing me away is not an option. I took a deep breath smelling his cologne and my eyelids got heavy as my body started to relax. I closed my eyes sinking in the feeling of our bodies being so close again, our legs tangled under the duvet, his heart beating right where my head was resting.

„Just close your eyes now, and we’ll start everything again tomorrow, okay?”

He asked quietly, his flesh hand not leaving my hair and the metal one still drawing circles on my back.

„Okay.”

I said before falling asleep, knowing I won’t wake up in the middle of the night as I did every single time for the past week.

233 notes · View notes

stairain · 1 year

Text

Swing and a Miss.

You meet a nerd at a bar, and you’re determined to claim him as yours.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, blowjobs, hesitance, praise, nicknames, implications of desired corruption, mentions of alcohol, this is quite tame in comparison to everything else I’ve written.

WC: 5K

You slowly walked into the bar, noticing the bustling atmosphere that surrounded you. You took a few moments to look around and admire the patrons before walking up to the bar table and sitting down.

Spencer sat at the table, and looked around him at the strange, unfamiliar environment, and he quietly watched the people in the bar as they drank, talked, and laughed. He was studying them carefully, observing their gestures and faces, trying to pick up on small details about their behavior and manner of communication.

He took in the sights and sounds of the place, taking mental notes and storing the information away for later use, in case he needed to recall it. He did not interact with anyone, instead keeping to himself and letting them come to him.

You smile towards the bartender before telling him what you wanted, and when you were done talking to him, you looked to the quiet man next to you.

He seemed to be in his own world, and looked very out of place at this bar. But you decide to bite the bullet anyways.

“Hey.”

He looks at you for a moment with a neutral expression, then smiles slightly and gives you a brief nod of his head in greeting. Although you had only just met, he seems to be trying to figure you out, studying you and taking in your appearance and behavior. He seems to be assessing your trustworthiness and what kind of person you are.

"Hello. I'm Spencer Reid, and you are?"

You shake your head and smile.

“That’s not important.” The bartender hands you your drink, and you take the glass in your hand. “But I can’t help but notice you seem.. out of place. You don’t usually go out to these types of places, do you?”

He looks around at the rowdy bar with a faint frown on his face, clearly not enjoying the rowdy and loud atmosphere. His eyes return to meet yours, and he nods slightly.

"Correct, I do not regularly visit such places. They are noisy and crowded, and people are usually intoxicated, which makes them more unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Additionally, I do not understand how people can enjoy spending time in such chaotic settings, and I usually feel out of place and out of touch with the people around me. It's not my usual environment."

You take a sip of your drink and listen to him ramble on. You had to bite back a joke about how he’d be better off in a library, you were interested in this man, and you didn’t know how well he’d take that joke.

“So.. Then what are you doing here? Waiting on a friend.. Waiting for a girl?” You looked at his hands, no ring.

He chuckles slightly and shakes his head.

"Not waiting for anyone, no. I was, um.. I was trying to get more comfortable with this type of environment, I suppose. Trying to expand my social experience a bit. I'm not particularly fond of this kind of place, but I'm making a bit of an effort to make myself more comfortable with things that normally make me uncomfortable. Trying to learn to deal with discomfort and chaos rather than avoiding it, if that makes any sense."

“How admirable.” You take one more sip of your drink before setting it down on the counter. You move your body so you’re now facing him, your legs almost brushing against his seat, and your arm supporting your head as you lean on the table. “You’re an introvert then, I take it..”

He is slightly taken aback when you move closer to him, but he recovers quickly and nods.

"That's... correct, yes. I'm very introverted, and I typically prefer my own company, but I'm trying to make more of an effort to interact with people. I enjoy reading and studying about other people, but actually socializing with them is something I'm still working on being comfortable with."

You can’t help the soft laugh that leaves your lips.

“You study people, but can’t bring yourself to talk to them.. Seems a bit stalker-ish, no? I mean, I have no doubt you can tell what I’m thinking just by looking at you..”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles a little, a bit embarrassed.

"I suppose that could be seen that way, yes. But I mean no harm. I'm just... I'm very analytical. I like to understand how things work, and people are the most complex things there are. It's fascinating to study them and their behaviors, but I still haven't quite figured out how to make it work in practical settings. I am... not very socially skilled, as I am sure you have already gathered."

You flash a smile to him before sighing and picking up your head from your hand. You reach down to grab at his chair and turn it so he’s facing you.

“Alright then, pretty boy. What can you tell me about my behavior, hm?”

He is a little caught off guard by your sudden action, and he blushes faintly at your comment, clearly not used to such compliments. He thinks for a moment before speaking.

"You are very.. bold in your methods of approaching men. You seem confident, and comfortable with yourself. But also, perhaps a little bit lonely. I am not sure, but I get a sense of restlessness from you."

You huff softly through your nose at him those last few parts.

“Maybe all that studying paid off then, stranger. You’ve just about hit the nail on the head.”

There’s a slight sadness in your tone, but you mask it quickly with a smile. He looks a little shocked by your admission, and his eyebrows furrow slightly, indicating he is concerned.

"I... am sorry to hear that. It must be... difficult, feeling so restless and alone. I can see why it might lead you to try new ways of meeting new people, if the usual methods aren't working out."

His words are sincere and genuine. He has a kind and empathetic side to him, and he feels a lot of sympathy for you, imagining a life without meaningful connections and genuine relationships.

“Thanks, but, I’ve been alright on my own. Plus, meeting new people is always fun.. Don’t you think?”

You look up at him with a flirtatious smile. He smiles back, but also seems a little bashful.

"Well.. meeting new people can be interesting and exciting, certainly. But it can also be difficult and uncomfortable. It's not really my specialty, to be completely honest." He chuckles a little nervously. "I tend to be a bit... awkward, in social situations, if you cannot tell. I am not the most charming or charismatic person, and I generally don't make the best first impression."

“That’s alright, I’d say I have enough charm for the both of us, hm?” You throw a wink at him and reach over to take a sip from your glass. He blushes again, but his smile grows a little bit, as he seems to find your flirting a bit flattering.

"I suppose you do," he laughs a little. "I admit, I'm not usually on the receiving end of flirtations from beautiful women, so it's a bit of a... new experience for me."

“Beautiful, huh?” You chuckle at his small attempt at flirting. Your words are teasing. “Was flattery in those studies on how to read people?”

Spencer laughs, embarrassed. "Okay, okay. Flattery is not exactly my strong suit, as I'm sure you have already gathered. That was.. awkward, wasn't it?" He sighs and looks away.

"Anyway, I guess maybe it did get mentioned a time or two in my studies, yes.. but it was never really something I put much effort into. I guess I must be out of practice, because it clearly did not work at all."

“Swing and a miss.” You joke before you reach out and pull his jaw gently so he’s looking back at you again. “I admire your attempt, what else you got?”

His face flushes even brighter, and he looks at you intently as he tries to think of something to say. He's not used to this kind of interaction, and so he just ends up staring at you, his face pink as his brain whirs quickly, thinking of something to say. He clears his throat, trying to think of a compliment that doesn't sound too forced or unnatural, but it doesn't seem to help. You've really got him stumped now.

"Um... I... I..."

He sighs, looking slightly frustrated as he's unable to put his thoughts into words. You pick up your glass and swirl around the drink as you continue to tease the poor man.

“Rendering a nerd speechless, consider me accomplished.”

He smiles and bows his head. "I guess you definitely have more experience than I do when it comes to meeting new people. You definitely seem... very good at this. You must be a natural born flirt, hm?" He chuckles a little and shakes his head, laughing at himself. “You definitely put me to shame, if I'm being honest. I'm not sure I can match your level of charm... but I'll keep practicing. It can't hurt to try and learn from the best."

“The best? Look at you, you’re already learning.” You praise, trying to gauge the kind of person he is. You wanted to see what made him blush, what made him stutter, and what made him aroused. “And no, not natural born.. You just make it easy.”

He blushes again at your comments, and he looks slightly embarrassed. He seems flattered by your praise, but he's also a little bit suspicious of you, wondering what your game is. Why are you being so playful and flirty with him? He doesn't think you'd go through all this effort for no reason.

"Why are you being so... nice to me?"

You nonchalantly sip at your drink, obviously entertained at watching the confused and flattered expression on his face.

“You’re adorable, I see no reason to lie about that, seeing as you’d probably be able to read my mind somehow anyways.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, quite amused by the situation. You really did catch him off guard, but he is still enjoying the banter and the playful flirting. In fact, it's very flattering, considering he's not used to people being flirty with him.

"Okay, you got me. I can't argue with that. I guess sometimes I'm a little bit too easy to read, huh?"

“Seems a bit ironic, you’ve spent all this time analyzing people and their behavior, and yet you’ve already given away so much to me.”

The playful teasing tone in your voice doesn’t falter at all, it only grows stronger as you can feel him becoming more comfortable with it.

“Makes me feel special, stranger.”

He nods, trying not to laugh. He seems to find your teasing both amusing and refreshing, despite his previous suspicions. "I suppose that is a bit ironic, huh?

He chuckles and shakes his head again, blushing slightly but seeming to relax and let his guard down a tad bit, feeling more comfortable with you. You have a very charismatic manner about you, so he can see why people are drawn to you, and he is enjoying himself now.

"You do have a knack for making people feel that way. I must admit... I am feeling quite special right now."

“Maybe that was my plan all along.” You reach out and run your hand through his hair, pushing it back slightly before ruffling it again. “What else are you feeling..?”

Spencer gives a soft gasp at the sudden touch, and he blushes again. He’s surprised by your boldness, but he can't deny that he finds it awfully flattering. You are clearly very comfortable with the flirtatious vibe. "I... I must say, I'm feeling... a little flustered..." He smiles slightly, but he’s still feeling bashful and is unable to stop blushing.

“That’s all?” You give him a faux pout and after a few moments you bite your lip, waiting for an answer.

He clears his throat, still very flustered. "Well... I'll admit my mind is starting to think about... more than just my typical studies of people's behavior..." He chuckles shyly, finding it a little amusing, but also a bit thrilling that he's feeling this way.

He's not used to such experiences, and it makes him feel oddly excited and hopeful. "I've never met someone like you before, you must forgive me. I'm... not very experienced with flirting or intimacy."

You can’t help but laugh in admiration at the way he speaks.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy.”

He blushes even more at the nickname you’ve assigned to him. You've completely caught him off guard now, with your playful tone and teasingly bold manner. He clears his throat again in an attempt to steady his voice as he tries to answer you honestly. "W-well.. like I said, I've never experienced this level of flirting before.. and, um, well, I.. I feel myself becoming a little bit attracted to you."

“Just a little bit? You think we could change that?” Your tone is condescending and teasing, as if you’re talking down to him.

He sighs and nods, clearly defeated by his feelings, but he smiles nonetheless. "Okay, okay.. I'll admit it. You got me. I'm more than a little bit attracted to you, and... yes, I would like to change that."

He chuckles softly, realizing how blunt and honest he's being, but he seems to accept his attraction to you. You are a beautiful woman, after all. There's no denying it, so he just gives into his feelings.

You smirk at his answer and stand up from your seat. You lean up to his ear to whisper lowly, making him shiver in anticipation.

“Meet me in the bathroom.. 4th on the left. Wait a few minutes before going, I’ll be waiting.”

You turn away from him and make your way to the back of the bar. You push open the door and thank god they have single bathrooms.

He looks absolutely stunned by your sudden show of boldness and the intensity of your request. He blushes even more, but he nods and seems to accept his fate. After a few minutes, he pushes up his sleeve and looks at his watch, then he heads to the bathroom, trying to get himself prepared for what is waiting for him. His emotions are all but out of control, and his heart is racing, but he feels strangely excited as a part of him can't believe this is happening.

As soon as you hear a timid knock on the door, you know it’s him. You quickly swing the door open before forcefully grabbing him by his tie and dragging him into the bathroom.

His eyes widen as he's suddenly grabbed by you, and he's shocked by your boldness and the physical force with which you pull him into the bathroom. He's knocked off balance, completely he's caught off guard by the unexpected aggressiveness of your approach. But he follows along without resistance, feeling excited by your confidence and your dominant attitude. You have clearly taken charge, so he follows your lead, eager to see where this is going.

You shut the door behind you two and lock it. Once you twist the lock, you slam his body against the door and lean forward to press a messy, aggressive kiss on his lips.

Despite the way you’ve assaulted his lips by your aggressive and passionate kiss, he can’t help but melt into the kiss and starts kissing you back, feeling caught up in the moment and carried away by the passion. Any thought about protesting against you was completely out of his mind. He kisses you back with equal levels of passion, he puts all of his emotions and his feelings on the line to give in completely.

You pull back and lick your your bottom lip, looking up at him with a predatory gaze. “Not such a shy nerd anymore, what happened, pretty boy?”

He blushes again when you break apart, his face now completely red when he meets your intimidating gaze. "I.. I guess you must've brought it out of me.. you do tend to have that effect." He chuckles, still quite breathless from the kiss. This is all new territory for him.

“I’m flattered, baby.” You say before diving down and pressing wet kisses against his neck, and you can feel the goosebumps on his skin on your lips.

Spencer’s is taken by surprise again, and he can't help but blush heavily. He can feel your lips on his neck, and he lets out a soft gasp at the contact. He can feel the goosebumps forming on his skin, and chills running down his back as you continue doing this.

"This... this is..." He chuckles breathlessly, not able to finish his sentence, but he's feeling extremely pleased with this experience. He's never felt like this before, and he can't help but enjoy the sensuality of it.

“Talk to me, pretty thing..” You whisper against his neck before continuing your kisses.

He can't help but shiver and let out a soft whimper at your voice, and the kisses you're planting on his neck. He can feel his cheeks burning red, and he can't help but give into the sensations you're causing him to experience. He doesn't even care if he sounds foolish when he speaks.

"This.. this feels so good... I've never felt anything like this before."

“Yeah? You want more?” You murmur against his skin as your hands find the buttons of his shirt, and begin to play with them.

He nods, still breathless and a little bit shaky. He loves this feeling, and he's never wanted anything more in his entire life. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you can feel his heartbeat picking up speed as you unbutton his shirt. "Yes... please..." He gives a soft moan, now overcome with sensations, and he's lost in the moment. He can't help but give into your touch.

Nodding, you start pushing the buttons through the hole, and soon enough you have his entire chest exposed for you, fully on display. You sigh happily at the sight and slowly kneel down, pressing kisses against the skin of his bare chest and stomach as you lower yourself to the ground.

This sudden display of boldness from you leaves him completely and utterly shocked and speechless. He can't help but watch you with bated breath, as you make a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and leaving his bare chest exposed.

"What... what are you..." His words are shaky and quiet, as he watches you with a mixture of surprise, arousal, and embarrassment.

You don’t answer him, but instead ask him your own question.

“Tell me what you know about the effect pleasure leaves on humans..”

Your skillful fingers run down his body and trail your digits on the waist of his dress pants and find the zipper of them. You give it a small tug as you speak.

His mind goes completely blank for a few seconds, and his heart rate picks up speed again. Your teasing, playful, and bold personality is starting to take over, and he's starting to become more and more overcome with the excitement of the situation.

"Uh... I-It's been shown that pleasure does-fuck.. release dopamine and oxytocin in the brain, causing a feeling of physical and emotional satisfaction in the recipient, and... and this feeling can... get quite addicting, which... usually leaves people wanting more."

You hum in satisfaction at his answer and pull down the zipper of his pants. “You’ve never felt that before, have you?”

His eyes widen when he realizes what you're doing, and he takes in a sharp breath of air. He's completely and utterly flustered and embarrassed by this display of dominance, and he can't help but watch you like a deer trapped in headlights, unable to look away.

He shakes his head, feeling slightly lightheaded from the excitement and the overwhelming feelings of the situation.

"No... I... I've-I've never felt anything quite like this before."

“And how do you feel, baby? You want more?” His zipper is completely pulled down, and you slot your fingers between his sweaty skin and the rough fabric of his pants.

Your words and actions leave him feeling completely flustered and speechless again, and he can feel all of his emotions running wild. He can feel the blush on his face, and he's still feeling lightheaded from the excitement of the situation.

"I..." He takes in an uneven breath, trying to calm down. "I.. I've.. I certainly do want more, yes.." He tries to steady his voice, trying not to let his nerves stop him from being completely honest with you.

“Good boy.” You offhandedly say as you pull down his trousers and leave him in his underwear in the cold bathroom.

Spencer’s face turns even more red when you leave him in just his underwear, so exposed. He shivers, but your words and your boldness warm his skin anyways. His breath is shaky, as the excitement and the embarrassment still have a death grip on him.

"W-Wait.. What... what are you doing now? Please... this is all so..." He whimpers out, seeming a bit out of his element with all of this, but still, he can't help but be incredibly turned on by your words and your touch.

You look up at him with hungry eyes and hold the band of his underwear in your fingers, threatening to pull them down. “Tell me to stop.”

He looks at your hungry eyes and takes in a sharp breath. He's afraid of what happens next, but he's also incredibly turned on by you and wants to see where this goes. He smiles mischievously before he speaks to you with a bit of a fearful tone.

"Please... don't stop."

You coo at his words and finally start to pull down his underwear. “See.. I knew you were a smart boy.”

His face heats up again as you start to pull down his underwear. It should be embarrassing, he doesn’t even know you, but the excitement has taken over, and the feeling is far more powerful and more intense. He still feels breathless as he watches you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to take them off of him, as there’s a clear obstruction that’s preventing you from pulling them clean off, but when his heavy length subconsciously flexes in front of your face as you stare up at him in absolute awe, and a little bit of amusement.

“Well, whatever you lack in social skills you really make up for now.”

His entire body is shaking with excitement and nerves, and his breath is already shaky as you look him over and stare at his cock like it’s your last meal. He blushes again when you laugh at him a little bit. He can't help but smile at your words.

"Y-you certainly know how to get a rise out of me..”

You laugh again at his choice of words. “Yeah, I can see that.” Your hand reaches out and strokes his exposed thighs, so close to where he so desperately needs it.

The brunet gasps, clearly surprised by your actions. This is all getting to be way too much for him to handle, and he's already feeling completely swept off his feet. He can't even think straight, let alone speak.

He just breathes heavily, feeling all too dizzy as this all happens. It's almost too much for him to take in, but he's too turned on to even bother fighting it.

And you were only adding onto it. Your hand moves from his thighs and to his dripping cock, giving him an experimental tug. He’s warm and hard in your palm, you can’t help the way your tongue peeks out and runs along your lips.

He lets out a soft gasp, and any attempt at keeping a straight face is gone the second your hands start stroking him. He's completely overcome with sensations, and his mind and his body are almost unable to keep up with all of this. His whole body shakes, as if his every nerve is on high alert, and you can hear his breath become shaky with all the excitement. He seems to be losing his ability to speak completely, as his mind and his body are now completely controlled by all the new and powerful feelings that you're causing him to experience.

Your strokes along his dick speed up, you wanted nothing more than to hear and see him fall apart above you. You see his knees buckle at the sensation and you huff out a silent laugh.

His breath becomes more and more heavy and erratic. He's almost completely at your mercy, unable to think straight or even stand fully upright. He looks at you, barely able to stop himself from falling over when his gaze meets yours. He's so turned on by your touch that he can't even put a thought together.

The touch, the feeling, it's just too much for him to take in, and he has no control over himself in this state. He's completely yours if you want him, and it's almost frightening to feel that kind of complete and total surrender of control.

You watch him fall apart in your hold above you, and smile adoringly at his shaking figure. You wanted to corrupt this man, take him away from the shy, nerdy man he was, and turn him into your personal bitch. Not wasting another moment, your mouth encompasses him.

His eyes wide open, and you can see the shock in them. Sure this was expected, but the feeling almost had him toppling over on top of you.

“Oh.. Oh my god..”

But at the most basic level, this is what he has always wanted. He has always wanted to escape from all the social expectations of him, and he has always wanted to be released from all of the inhibitions of the past. This is his chance to let loose, and even the shock of the moment can't make him hesitate.

You watch as his eyes roll back into his head and his body suddenly relaxes. You smile around your mouthful and look up at him with admiration shining in your eyes.

He lets out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling completely vulnerable and helpless in your hold. He can't help but look back down at you in awe and pure lust, unable to think straight and enjoying every second of it.

His surrender is total, and he looks completely at your mercy. He really is completely yours to do whatever you want with, and he's enjoying every moment of this completely unhindered passion.

You pull back and press a kiss to the sensitive tip, a string of precum connecting from the head to your shiny slick covered lips.

“How’s it feel, baby?”

"It.. you... it's... it's amazing.. You’re so good."

He sighs contentedly, feeling utterly lost in all of the passion, the new feelings, the sensation.. he is completely swept off of his feet and can't help but express his pleasure with high pitched whimpers and moans.

You laugh at his reaction before diving back in. Your throat completely encloses around him, squeezing around that rock solid length that’s pulsating in your mouth. Spencer throws his head back against the door and reaches a hand up to cover the moan that inevitably slips through his fingers anyways.

With every pass of your warm and wet mouth over his leaking tip and heavy cock, he can feel himself being lassoed to a brink of pleasure he’s never experienced before. His body begins to be wracked with shudders and he quickly taps on your shoulder in a panic.

You don’t pull away like he was expecting, but instead, you just look up at him with awaiting eyes. It had never occurred to you before that he’s never had an orgasm, but it all clicked when you realized.

With the way his legs were shaking, one hand trying to push you away and the other covering his mouth, and how he tried so desperately to look you in the eyes, but always ended up failing when they rolled back into his skull.. He was entirely yours.

“I-I don’t know what’s.. P-Please.”

The wet noises of your mouth around him only grow louder as you begin to speed up. The familiar ache in your jaw starts to set in, but you know it’s not much longer until he’s completely and utterly shattered by his own orgasm.

Your hands reach up to hold his bony hips, and you use the hold to push him deeper down your throat. His mouth drops open in pants, trying to get out a sentence but all that came out were incoherent moans and broken words.

With an almost ear shattering moan, he fills your mouth with his hot and sticky release. The hand covering his mouth proved to be more than useless as whimpers and whines poured from his bitten lips.

His thighs shake around your head and you continue to suck his softening cock, wanting to milk him for every last thing he was worth, and make his first release worthwhile.

“Ple-Please..”

Before his knees could give out on him, you pull away and swallow. There’s some of his spend dripping from your lips, and the look you give him is primal as you wipe it off with your finger and put it right in your mouth.

His eyes roll back at the gesture and you stand up to pull him into a sloppy, downright filthy kiss. When you pull away, he smiles down at you and tries to find his own voice. When he speaks, it comes out raspy, no doubt ruining his throat through all the moans and screams he let out.

“D-Do I... Do I get to know your name now..?” He pants out as you tuck him back into his underwear and pants.

“At least take me on a date first, Spence.”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer reid

1K notes · View notes

athforskz · 1 month

Text

Body Worship - Seo Changbin

Masterlist

Pairing: Changbin x reader (afab)

wc: ~2.7k

Type: Angst, smut, established relationship

Warnings: Insecurities (body image issues), cursing, mention of online bullying & death threats, crying, tons of kissing, love bites/ marking, sensory play (reader is blindfolded), unprotected piv, use of sex toys, prone bone, aftercare. Let me know if I missed any!

a/n: I don’t care who you are, but every single one of you is beautiful! You better believe it or I’ll send Changbin after you, myself! 😤

Enjoy lovelies!

It had been weeks since you showed your face to the public or been out of the house for that matter. All you wanted to do was stay home in your cozy bed and sleep. To say you were insecure was an understatement. Your boyfriend, Changbin, hadn’t really minded your increasing tendencies to stay in bed. He figured you were just catching up on some much needed rest. However, when it was creeping up on the third week of you turning down his date ideas he started to get worried.

“Bunny, you doing okay today?”

“I’m fine, Binnie.” You sighed from underneath the pile of blankets.

Changbin let out a frustrated groan. He knew you weren’t fine, but he couldn’t figure out why. He finally had vacation time and all he wanted to do was spend it with you. Take you out to all your favorite places and maybe make some new adventures.

You, on the other hand, despised the thought of it. Not because you didn’t want to spend quality time with your beloved boyfriend, but because of what his fans and media might think. You and Changbin had started dating a little over two years ago. At first the relationship was kept a secret with only his group members, close friends, and family knowing of your status. But once you both had felt comfortable you guys decided to make your relationship public. For the most part, it went over well with Stays accepting your presence and news outlets making headlines about you dating the K-pop idol.

Even though the majority of fans and media welcomed you, there were still toxic fans and tabloids that tried to tear you down. Normally, you wouldn’t let the hate get to you, but some of the things you read in news articles or comments fans made chipped away at your confidence bit by bit. It started off with an unflattering photo caught by paparazzi when you and Changbin were headed to the airport, then the comments began rolling in.

‘Her face looks so uneven’

‘She dresses like a toddler’

‘Changbin could do so much better’

You wanted to ignore it all. Push all the hate aside and continue with the happiness you found in Changbin. But just when you were getting used to the mild negativity, the death threats came. Some crazy fans had found your personal accounts, threatening you to stay away from their Changbin. There had even been a trending tag on Twitter reading ‘Save Binnie from his scrooge girlfriend.’

That was your final straw, the final push that had sent you into recluse mode almost three weeks ago. You started nitpicking your looks and facial features. You became hyper aware of every scar and stretch mark on your body. You would stand in the mirror pinching the chub of your stomach or thighs. Everything made you feel disgusted with yourself and the only way to feel any kind of comfort was to hide away.

“Come on, you have to talk to me eventually.” Changbin wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Talk about what? There’s nothing wrong…” you lied through your teeth.

Changbin pulled the duvet from your curled form. You whined trying to grab it back from him.

“Binnieeee, please just leave me be right now.”

“Not until you’re honest with me,” he retorted.

You simply laid there feeling defeated, covering your face with your hands as tears welled at your lash line. He could hear the faint sniffles you were trying to keep quiet. Changbin became increasingly concerned and grabbed your wrists to move them away from your face.

“Hey, hey baby, why are you crying? Please talk to me. I am begging you.” He was pleading with you.

“Why are you still with me…?” You averted your eyes, not able to look your boyfriend in the face.

“What are you talking about? I’m with you because I love you and you make me the happiest man on earth.”

“But I’m nothing more than an ugly fucking scrooge!” You had snapped, tears full on running down your cheeks as you completely turned your face away.

Bin placed his hands on either side of your cheeks making you look at him.

“Why are you saying this? Please don’t talk down about yourself, it breaks my heart to see you hurting.”

“Social media and some of your fans have been saying rude things. But now I see that it’s all true.” You mumbled, halfway hoping he wouldn’t hear you, but he did.

“None of it is true. You have to stop paying attention to those haters.” He said softly as he rubbed your cheeks with the pad of his thumbs.

“You’re only saying that..” you tried to pull out of his hold but he kept you close.

“Baby, you are the most gorgeous thing to have ever walked this universe. People are always graced by your beauty when you walk into a room. I am beyond lucky to call you mine and I’ll personally fight anyone who thinks otherwise.” He declared to you.

“So you don’t think I look like the scrooge?” You sniffled.

He chuckled while shaking his head, “course not. You are my beautiful babes.”

“I- I don’t believe it. I’m sorry.. I just feel so ugly and unworthy of you.” You sobbed again.

Changbin pulled you in close placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting off the bed. “Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you. Make you believe it.” He simply stated while walking around the shared bedroom gathering a few items and even lighting a couple of candles.

For a minute you were confused. How was he going to achieve a seemingly impossible task? You had your mind made up and there was no changing it. Your insecurities were set in stone.

After Bin had gathered what he was looking for he kneeled on the bed in front of where you were now sat up.

“Close your eyes f’ me.” He said calmly.

“Bin, I don’t think-“ you tried to resist.

“That wasn’t a request, bunny.”

You shut your mouth and followed his command, closing your eyes. You could feel some kind of thick silk being wrapped around your head, making sure you couldn’t see anything.

“What are you doing?” You inquired.

“Shhh, I’m going to be the one asking questions. Understand?”

“…yes,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. Changbin ran his fingers through your hair, landing his palm on the crown of your head massaging just the way you liked it. You began to relax, your previous sobbing and sniffles coming to a stop. He then gripped onto the roots of your hair and maneuvered your head to the side so he had easy access to your neck.

“Can’t believe you’d talk about yourself - my girl - in such a way. You have a wonderful mind and a beautiful body and I intend to worship all of it. Show you exactly what I see.” He placed a kiss on your neck, sucking and biting the flesh which will surely leave a mark.

“You’re so pretty, so damn pretty.” He murmured with his lips still pressed under your jaw, moving to another spot to mark. Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue lick up the column of your neck.

Needless to say, you and Bin hadn’t been the most intimate the last few weeks. So every kiss and every touch he gave you made you feel more sensitive. The way his hands caressed down your waist until he reached the hem of your shirt set your skin on fire. He pulled the clothing over your head and tossed it on the floor. You covered your chest with your arms out of reflex, but he stopped you.

“Don’t hide this gorgeous body from me, sweetheart. I need to see you. I crave you.” He said in an almost animalistic tone. It sent shivers down your spine. Bin placed his hand between your breasts and lightly pushed you down to lay flat on your back. He then slid his hand to the side to cup and squeeze your right breast. “Such beautiful tits you have,” he leaned down to suck on the left. “So squishy and perfect,” he’d say between sucks and licks to your nipples.

You started letting out airy moans at his ministrations on your chest. Changbin came up to place another kiss on your lips before kissing down your sternum and down your stomach. The motions made you tense as you especially hated your abdomen. He sensed the change in your body language and rubbed your sides spending extra time there. His fingertips hooking into the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down along with your panties.

“Binnie.. don’t look please.” You started shaking from anxiety.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just me. Binnie’s got you, bunny.” He reassured you as he continued his kissing assault on your middle.

“I especially love your soft tummy. One of my favorite parts of you and the best place to lay my head when we cuddle.” Changbin affirmed. You whined at his declaration, then you felt him go even lower, spreading your legs apart. You wanted to close them so badly but you know he’d just pull them open again. You couldn’t deny that you were dripping with arousal at this point. He landed a kiss on your wet core making you shudder. Then you heard him shuffling for something next to you. You kind of hated not being able to see anything but in a way it made you calmer.

A few more seconds passed before you felt your boyfriend shift and a cold object was placed directly in your clit. Changbin clicked the device making it come to life. It was your vibrator. The sudden feeling making your body jolt and a whimper escape your lips. You couldn’t see it, but you could practically feel the smirk Bin would most certainly be sporting right now.

“Now, you don’t get to cum until you admit how beautiful you are. Got it?” He established a rule that he wanted to make sure you understood.

“Nng I- I can’t!” The vibrations were already drawing you close.

“Oh you will, bunny.” He said matter of factly.

Changbin kept the little toy in place on your clit as his other hand along with his lips explored every other inch of your body. He chanted how beautiful, gorgeous, and stunning you were like a mantra. You tried to hold your orgasm back as long as you could but he knew you were on the edge by the way your hips bucked.

“C’mon, say it. Lemme hear ya, honey.”

Your brain went fuzzy and you just wanted to cum so bad. “M’ pretty! Fuck, s’ pretty!” You called out.

“Good girl, that’s right baby. Good job,” he praised.

You were panting, trying to catch your breath as he let you calm down from your high. Changbin removed the vibrator from your soaked pussy, tossing it aside.

Once your boyfriend felt you were ready he maneuvered you so you were laying on your front, facing your body to the foot end of the bed. He then placed a pillow under your lower tummy to make sure you were comfortable. You could feel him situate himself between your legs behind you, his weight slowly pressing onto your back. You felt a light tug to the silk ribbon he had tied around your eyes some time ago. It fell away, allowing you to see again. You blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting. When your eyes focused you could see he had moved you so you could see yourself in the mirror that was placed at the opposite side of the room. You immediately hid your face in the mattress, not wanting to bear witness to the reflection in front of you.

“Don’t look away, bun. Wan’ you to see how absolutely ethereal you look when we fuck.” He nipped at your ear before reaching a hand around to the front of you to grab under your jaw and lift your head. In your haste to hideaway you hadn’t noticed that Changbin was naked on top of you. You wondered how you could feel his cock throbbing so clearly on your thigh.

“Don’t wanna look,” you whined while locking eyes with him through the mirror.

“But you just have to see what I see when you cum. You look so pretty when you cum, baby.” You knew there was no protesting, so you simply nodded.

Changbin lifted his hips slightly so he could line his cock up with your entrance that was currently clenching around nothing. He sank into you slowly, allowing you to adjust. Bin’s cock was thick and the stretch always burned deliciously when he first entered. You let out a breathy moan as he started to grind his hips into your core. The sound of skin smacking as he bounced off your ass.

He could see your eyes glaze over with lust as pleasure overtook you. You kept your gaze on the mirror as your boyfriend fucked into you mercilessly from behind. “Yeah, that’s it, babe. So fucking gorgeous, my girl- ah,” he landed a harsh slap to your rear making the skin ripple. You let out a squeak between the string of moans falling from your lips.

Binnie leaned down placing kisses on your back and shoulders, occasionally biting to leave his mark. He’d look up every few thrusts to make sure you were still watching yourself and at one point he saw the position of your eyes shift. You had siren eyes and your moans became more throaty, indicating to him that you were definitely into it. Into checking yourself out which is exactly what he wanted.

Suddenly, Changbin reached around to grip your neck and pull you up against his chest. Making you both kneel while his other arm wrapped across your waist. His cock reached deeper this way and hit that spot that drove you wild. The knot in your core threatened to snap with every harsh pump of his dick.

“M’ gonna cum! B-bin please!” You screamed while looking up at the ceiling, your vision becoming blurry.

Changbin redirected your gaze to the mirror again as he felt your body spasming from your release.

“Mm fuck look how gorgeous y’ look cummin’ on my cock like that,” he said between grunts as his own high washed over him. His seed spurting into you in waves.

“So.. gorgeous,” you repeated as your orgasm finished wracking your body. You couldn’t help but watch how your body glowed after your second release of the night. A thin sheen of sweat adorning your body, almost looking like you were sparkling. You looked positively hot, maybe you could see in yourself what your boyfriend saw.

You both stayed like that for a while, connected and calming down from the mind blowing sex. Changbin pulled out after a few more minutes then went to the bathroom to run a hot bath for the both of you. You laid on the bed feeling uncomfortably sticky from the sweat drying. Before you knew it your boyfriend had returned and picked you up bridal style in his strong arms and carried you to the bath. You giggled and kicked your feet at his display of strength.

“Binnie! I can walk by myself ya know?”

“I just fucked you senseless and you think you’d be able to walk straight?” He chuckled.

You huffed in response as he gently lowered you into the water. The warmth encapsulating your body. Changbin stepped in to sit behind you and pulled you back so you were laying on his broad chest. He kissed the side of your head and whispered sweet nothings in your ear while lightly tracing the love bites that were bruising on your skin.

Somehow the marks made you feel even more confident. They were symbols of your loving boyfriend and that in itself was beautiful to you.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always very much appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

#stray kids #skz #mdni #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #changbin #seo changbin #changbin smut #changbin x reader #changbin x you #18+ mdni #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #changbin angst #changbin fic

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superhaught · 2 months

Text

To Be Another Notch in Your Bedpost

Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader

Warnings: explicit smut! (18+ MDNI) implied sub/bratty Leighton, implied dom/brat tamer reader, one night stand

(This is my first ever published fic please be gentle! I want to start taking requests for anything Renee/Regina/Leighton so, ya know, tell me if ya like it and wanna see more writing from me)

Word Count: 2700, Part 1/?

Reader has a one night stand with the Leighton Murray.

Explicit Content Below

This party was everything you hated. Loud, unintelligible music. Drunken idiots everywhere. Sticky spills all over the floor and sweaty bodies brushing against you no matter how much you tried to stay out of the way.

You wouldn’t have even come out tonight if it wasn’t for the fact that your friend basically dragged you kicking and screaming out of your dorm and away from your comfortable Netflix binging. You remained steadfast, though. She could bring you to the party but she couldn’t make you enjoy it. While she danced in the middle of it all, you continued to nurse your one cup of punch against the wall, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of people watching.

It wasn’t that you thought you were better than your peers, you just couldn’t match their vibe. You couldn’t let go enough. You couldn’t become uninhibited. Your first year at Essex had been an overwhelming one. Making good friends had been hard. Staying on top of your classes even more so. And finding common ground with the legacy and/or wealthy students had been damn near impossible. Your student job in the library was draining, and your dating life had been nonexistent. This party felt like the absolute last thing you needed to decompress.

You were just about to throw in the towel and say goodbye to your friend when someone unexpected approached you.

“Hey wallflower,” she said, addressing you, “a few of the Theta guys are concerned that you’re bored or drugged. Either way, they want it to be resolved.”

The girl was Leighton Murray. A rising queen bee on campus. She was deeply connected to the school, extremely popular within multiple social groups on campus, and easily one of the most stunning women you have ever seen by far.

You chuckle awkwardly and smile at the blonde, “Ah. Well, I am sorry for disturbing the vibe of the party. I know that the frats work hard to make these go well. But truly, I’m neither bored nor drugged, just… not fitting in.”

Leighton raises an eyebrow at you, “I take it this isn’t your usual scene, then?”

“Not at all,” you admit. “I’m much more comfortable in quiet settings with fewer people to worry about.”

Leighton nods and takes a sip from her own drink, glancing over the crowd thoughtfully. She turns back to you, “What made you come, then?”

You shrug, “I was forced by my friend. Apparently my preferred Friday night of watching Queer Eye and baking brownies for myself in the dorm kitchens depresses her.”

Leighton laughs, “It’s not necessarily a bad thing but definitely not how you should be spending your Friday nights in college…” she looks you up and down for a moment, clearly checking you out, “are you… ya know?” She makes her wrist go limp in that recognizable signal and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What? Gay?” She looks a little embarrassed but you smile warmly and give her a reassuring nod, “Yes, I am. Very much so, don’t worry.”

She nods and takes another drink, and you mirror her. Word spreads quickly amongst the sapphic community at Essex and Leighton had been a big topic of conversation lately. The story was that she had recently come out and was making up for lost time. It wasn’t something that you judged her for, but now that she was here chatting you up, it did make you question the depth of her intentions.

You tilt your head questioningly at her and decide to be bold, “We haven’t connected yet, have we?”

Her cheeks flush and she hides her face with her cup again as she responds, “No… we have not…”

“So were you truly sent by the frat guys to come check on me or did you… maybe volunteer yourself for the task?”

She feigns offense at your question and then shrugs, “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

You flash her a knowing smirk and take another sip of your drink. You’re more than interested in her, but you’re also more than nervous. Casual hook-ups have never been your thing and Leighton was the type of woman that you’d want to spend more than just one exciting night with. But for all you knew, that’s not what she wanted right now.

“Well…” she begins quietly, “since you aren’t enjoying yourself here, would it be okay for me to take you somewhere else?”

You slowly nod your head and meet her eyes, “Can I ask you a question first, Leighton?”

She nods back, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“What are you looking for, right now?”

She gives you a confused expression, “What do you mean?”

“Do you want one fun night and nothing more, or someone who might last longer than one fun night?”

She considers the question for a moment, “Is it important for you to know the answer to that before we go further?”

“It is,” you reply, “I just want to manage my expectations.”

She nods in understanding, “You’re the first person who’s actually asked that… honestly, I’m just looking to feel good. Lately, that has resulted in a string of fun nights… but I’m not opposed to having more than that, really.”

“So, you’re saying that if you hit it off with someone and they asked you out, you wouldn’t outright reject them?”

She nods, “Right. Does that… help you with your concerns?”

“Yeah, it does. Thank you.” You smile again and she smiles back, seemingly moved by your tender nature. You hold out your hand to her and finally introduce yourself and she echoes your name back to you as she happily shakes your hand.

“So… about my offer?”

You giggle and nod, “Get me out of here, Leighton.”

The girl grabs your hand and quickly leads you out of the frat party. You’re able to quickly shoot your friend an explanatory text so that she won’t worry about your whereabouts, and soon enough, you're trailing behind Leighton Murray as she takes you across campus back to her dorm.

You hold onto her hand the entire time. She swiftly unlocks the door to her suite, which is thankfully empty at the moment, and she pulls you straight into her room, shutting the door behind you.

You lock eyes and smile, a little nervously on both of your parts. It was comforting to you that there was some anxiety for her as well. But you’ve never been one to let that anxiousness prevent you from taking the lead. You bring your hands up to her cheeks and cradle her softly as you pull her in towards you and close the distance between your lips. Her eyes flutter shut and a small sigh escapes her as you kiss. The softness of her, the lipgloss she wears, the perfume on her neck… all of it completely tantalizes you and you suddenly have no trouble falling into her completely.

Her hands drift to the small of your back, then she squeezes your ass playfully and yanks you a little closer to her, which prompts you to gently push her backwards so that she’s against the door. Leighton gasps lightly and you smile in the kiss, knowing that your actions have pleased her. Your parted lips give her the opportunity to graze her tongue over your bottom lip and you eagerly accept it and meet her with yours, deepening the kiss.

You begin to trail your hands down her body, letting your fingertips brush skin where it’s exposed and fidgeting with the fabric of her dress as you go down to her hips and hold onto her firmly. Your touch sends a shiver up her spine and she moans. You pause the kiss for just a moment so that you can take a much needed deep breath, but you keep your nose and forehead pressed against her and meet her gorgeous blue eyes again for a second and you can’t help but be in awe, “fuck…” you breathe.

She nods eagerly and pulls you back in for more. You push her back against the door again, keeping her pinned in place as you gently shift her hair out of the way of her neck and you lean down to place kisses on her skin beneath her jawline and along her pulse point.

She sighs and melts, biting her lower lip and burying her fingers into the hair at the back of your neck to hold onto you. Your lips and tongue explore her soft, sensitive skin and you playfully nibble at her earlobe which makes her gasp before you return to her lips and continue making out with her.

You feel her start to rock her hips, trying to grind against you in search of friction where she needs it. You smile and tease her, slowing down your movements and taking your time to worship the other side of her neck and each collarbone.

She groans, “oh fuck… you… tease...”

You smirk and whisper into her ear, “Feeling needy, Leight? If you want something, you’d better ask for it.”

She whines and bites into her lower lip hard but then indignantly shakes her head, deciding to try to maintain a little bit of brattiness rather than just caving right away.

Your hands drop down to her thighs and start to toy with the bottom hem of her dress, inching the fabric upwards bit by bit and making her squirm while you kiss her collarbones and as much of her chest as is exposed by the low cut.

Your fingertips dance over her skin and give her goosebumps as you touch the backs of her thighs feather-light, keeping your pelvis just out of her reach so that when she rocks her hips, she doesn’t find anything to make contact with. You find a great deal of amusement in watching this powerful woman quickly crumble. She pulls your hair harder and gets even more vocal with her whines and groans, cursing in your ear and desperately seeking more deliberate touch from you.

You keep kissing her neck, touching your lips and tongue softly to her hairline and feeling her pounding heartbeat. You barely hear it, a faint whisper escapes her, “please…”

You raise an eyebrow and pull back to look at her face, “Hm? What was that?”

Leighton grumbles and whispers it again, “please… please.”

“Please, what?”

“Oh my god please fucking fuck me!” She finally blurts.

You smile, satisfied, and decide to oblige her instead of gloating any further. You kiss her lips once more before lowering yourself onto your knees between her legs, her mouth falls open and she stares down at you in awe.

You look up at her and maintain eye contact as you hike up the fabric of her dress even more, until it bunches around her hips and exposes her lace panties and an intoxicating inch of skin between her navel and the underwear. You reach your head up and press a soft, cruel kiss to her center over the fabric which makes her jut her hips and groan, falling back against the door a little bit. You can feel how hot and wet she already is and you try not to let that go to your head.

You slide your hands down the skin of her legs and follow your fingers with your lips, kissing her gently, until your hands reach her heels and you start to take them off of her one at a time while watching her face.

“You’re so gorgeous, Leighton.” You tell her.

She just flushes and nods, helping you by kicking her shoes off and out of the way. Your hands return to her thighs and then slowly, you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties and you start to pull them down. She moans and you feel an overwhelming wave of heat race through your own body and settle between your legs. You watch her eyes as you pull the fabric down and she carefully steps out of it, then you take a moment to admire her like this and you feel like all of this must be a dream.

“Are you ready, Leighton?”

She nods emphatically, “God yes… please…”

You nod and help her drape one of her legs over our shoulder as you get yourself into a solid position and bring your face between her thighs.

She leans back, putting more of her weight against the door and with one more affirmative nod, you extend your tongue and drag it along her.

You hear her moan and can sense her letting her head fall back against the door as she winds her fingers into your hair and holds your head firmly in place so that you are less inclined to pull away.

Your senses are flooded by the taste and feel of her and your own eyes roll back before you shut them completely and draw your focus into pleasing this incredible woman. Your lips and tongue start to work on her slowly, you moan against her and she grinds against you and you can tell that she’s already anxious for release.

You drag your tongue languidly through her folds and pause to push it inside of her before returning to her clit and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the flat of your tongue. You can easily tell what she likes and wants more of and it doesn’t take long at all to build her up to climax. Your lower face is already drenched in her but you stay in place and maintain the pace and motions that she’s responding to, feeling all of her muscles tense, her breathing quicken and her noises intensify. With just a few more movements of your tongue she finally releases with a long, drawn out moan and you start to slow your ministrations as she rides out her orgasm on your face. She beams widely and laughs joyously through the waves of ecstasy, breathing hard, chest heaving.

You do your best to clean her up and then you quickly stand and help support her as her legs weaken. With a simple lift, you bring her from the door to her bed and lie her down and she curls up with a big smile on her face and says, “holy shit…”

You laugh and crawl into the bed next to her and wrap your arms around her while she rests for a moment, catching her breath and regaining her bearings. You spend a few quiet minutes just spooning her and rubbing her back gently and she smiles and hums happily.

Eventually, she whispers, “You know, I’ve slept with a lot of people recently… but what you just did for me… doesn’t even compare. I feel like you’re on a whole different graph…”

You laugh, “What? That can’t be true.”

“No, I'm being one hundred percent serious. That was insane.”

You smile and get close to her ear and whisper to her, “It doesn’t have to be over…”

“Well right, I need to return the favor…” She starts to roll over toward you but you hold her in place and stop her, leaning over her shoulder and kissing her neck lightly, “sure, you could do that, but I’m talking about it not being over for you…” you whisper against her ear.

“Fuck…” she groans, “are you going for some kind of record?”

“I just want to make you feel good…”

“You’re unreal…”

You flash her a playful smirk and she gets up out of the bed and slips a sock over the door handle to her room, “Bela will understand.”

You both giggle and then she excitedly gets back into the bed with you, climbing onto your lap and immediately capturing your lips in more passionate kisses.

The night skips on, continuing to excite and pleasure you both, and you remind yourself no short of a hundred times to thank your friend for making you come to the party.

Next Chapter

#leighton murray #tslocg #sex lives of college girls #leighton murray fanfiction #leighton murray smut #smut with plot #renee rapp #renee rapp fanfiction #original writing

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buckysbabygorl · 1 year

Text

Punching Bag (Bucky Angst)

Summary: As much as Bucky can't stand Y/N, he's tired of her taking all the blows on the field. They have to come up with a plan.

Word Count: N/A

“Get your hands off me.”

She shoved him away, as best she could given her state.

“I can do it myself.”

She took the med kit from his hands, in her drunken stupor she stumbled to the dining table, fumbling with the latches on the case.

Bucky was tired. All he wanted to do was sleep after a long—god awful---day and put the mission behind him.

He dropped his mission bag at the doorway.

“All you’re going to do is make it worse. I don’t need you waking up tomorrow complaining about your drunken hack job.”

She glared at him, pulling out supplies.

“Sober or not, I can stitch myself up fine. Just because I’m not an army vet doesn’t mean I don’t know basic field medics.”

She mumbled something more under her breath; probably dick or asshole, some of her common artillery when insulting him.

He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this right now. Today had been hard, and for Bucky that was saying something. Whether it was being back in Russia, during its coldest and iciest period of the season; or being stuck with the person he loathed the most, he wasn’t sure what had triggered him.

But he was on edge and exhausted, and he wanted this night to end.

Then she had to go and get stabbed of all things, and now this dark hour was dragging on and on and on...

It was then Bucky realized that this sad excuse of a safe house would not give him enough space from her. It was a bachelor style apartment, something small enough that would never catch the eye of enemies, tucked away in an complex that was filled with much more shady individuals that them. There was a kitchenette, a dining table with two chairs, and a couch that pulled out. There was also a rickety old rocking chair, which looked far from comfortable.

This night wouldn't get any shorter.

“Ow.”

She stabbed her self softly with the needle, swaying slightly as she tried to stablize herself.

“Jesus Christ," Bucky said, "did you even wash your hands?”

“Fuck you.” She retorted.

His jaw tensed as he stopped himself from raising his hands, he wanted to tear his hair out strand by strand.

Why was she always so fucking argumentative?

“Would you stop saying that?”

He strode across the room, kneeling in front of her chair and grabbed her arm.

She attempted to pull away from him, which was stupid to do with a needle in hand.

“Let go.” She demanded.

She pulled back, hard, and Bucky gripped her forearm.

“Will you just—enough.” His voice stern and commanding.

She halted, slightly hazey and swaying. But she stopped.

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.

“For once, can you just shut up and listen? For five seconds, can you do that?”

She blinked slowly at him, pursing her lips.

He recognized that look in her eye; it was always followed by a sly grin, a tilt of her head that said “what are you gonna do about it, Sergeant?”

This time, she slumped back into her chair. She relaxed her arm and used the other to shove the kit towards him.

“Fine. Do your worst. I don’t give a shit if you leave a scar.”

He waited a moment, to see if she’d say something more or change her mind, maybe smack his hand away one more time.

But she didn’t.

So Bucky picked up the needle and went to work.

She didn’t look at him while he stitched her up, remaining in her dead stare as she looked straight at the wall.

She winced a few times but said nothing.

After a few minutes, the quiet made Bucky’s skin itch.

“Why did you jump at her, anyways? I had it covered.”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling through gritted teeth.

Responding wasn’t worth the effort, so she shrugged.

“Really? You’re not going to say anything?” He asked.

She groaned. “Does it matter? Not like I can do anything about it now.”

He shook his head, continuing as if he hadn’t heard her. “--And downing a bottle of tequila won’t make you feel better.”

She bit the palm of her hand as he worked his way along her side.

Her breaths stuttered as she inhaled.

“Hurts less.” She mumbled.

He paused a moment.

He remembered what that felt like. How much these kind of things could hurt you. He could imagine the pain she was going through, he could see it in her face. But he tried to ignore it. He was still mad at her.

“I don’t get you. You do this every time, you’re not invincible you know—”

She slammed her hand on the table.

“I know that! Jesus, you tell me every time—AH!”

She pulled away from him, hurting herself as he had tightened a stitch.

He looked up as his hands steadied her, and his voice softened.

“Y/N, sit still...”

Her head was turned away from him, but he could still see the corner of her eye and the downturn of her lip.

He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

He tilted his head down, biting on the inside of his cheek. Best to just get this over with.

“Just… sit still. I’m almost done.”

They fell into silence again. The winter snow was building up on the safe house windows, the wind pounding against the panes.

He tried to shut it out. But it was either listen to the howling storm or rehash the scenario in his brain.

Her voice came over his ear piece, she told him to watch his six; that agents were entering through the south wing of the building. He ignored her, he had it covered.

She must’ve taken his silence the wrong way; she figured he was in danger. She was like that, she’d assume the worst and abandon her post to cover. Fuck, why did she have to do that…

“Did you get a hold of Sam?”

Surprised by her question, Bucky looked up from his hands. She still wouldn’t turn to face him.

“Called him while I was walking back. Said he can get a jet in a 4 am. With the storm it’s hard to get here—”

She winced again. He groaned.

“Stop moving.”

She awed at the ceiling and clenched her hand into a fist.

“My god, would it kill you to have some sympathy?”

He tied off the suture and snipped the thread.

“I don’t have sympathy for idiocy.”

She scoffed, “Fuck you.”

Which she had said for the umpteenth time today.

He decided to ignore it. But he was still fuming, still angry at her… why, why would she do that?

He should’ve watched his six, he knew he should’ve.

They came up behind him, 4 out of the 6 agents had decided to cover his wing.

He was holding his own, but the one was smart. Patient. Waiting while the others hammered Bucky with brute force to deliver a fatal blow. She had been aiming for his right side, probably trying to stab between his right ribs or his into his spine…

“You know, normal people say thank you.” He nodded to her left side, where 10 stitches sat neatly in line.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Her words were icy, she nearly spat them at him.

Bucky scoffed. “Why should I thank you? I had it covered, you jumped in and now I have to patch your drunk-ass up—”

“I did it because it’s instinct. I saw my partner outnumbered and I saved your ass. Sorry it’s an inconvenience to you because I’m not a goddamn super soldier.”

The slam of his hand on the table made her jump, and her eyes went wide at the thought that he might actually make her shut up for once.

"You can't throw yourself in a fight where you'll get more hurt than I will."

His eyes faltered when he looked at her, "We... we talked about this Y/N--"

Silence fell between them again.

She fumbled with the bottle cap on the table, and Bucky stood still at her side.

He didn't know what more to say, and she didn't know how to respond.

Because he was right, they had talked about this before many times.

There were never tender moments between the two, but the closest they'd ever gotten to something like that was usually Y/N's recovery. They were paired together more often than not; aside from them loathing one another, they were extremely compatible.

But each time they teamed up, something like this happened.

Y/N would get stabbed, she'd get shot, she'd break a bone or two, she'd pick a fight that was out of her depths.

He'd get mad and so would she, then a day or two would pass and he'd watch her struggle with something. Whether it was taking the stairs, or doing her physio, or getting back into training...

Somehow they'd end up alone and they fell back into this same conversation.

You can't always put yourself at risk for me, I know you're skilled but there's situations where you need to be more careful.

She'd sit with it, and usually come back with the same response.

I know you're capable of taking more than most people, but it doesn't mean you get to be a punching bag. If my partner is in trouble, I'm going to step in.

There was never a solution made, because he was the immovable object and she was the unstoppable force.

In short, they were both too stubborn and too proud.

Normally, she wouldn't bring it up. But feeling brave, or drunk enough to be brave, she did.

"We're going around in circles, Barnes."

She didn't look up from the table, but he continued to stare.

"We can't fight about this every single time we go on a mission. We've requested to be separated, and that's not happening. So tell me what the fuck you want me to do, because I'm not just gonna take a seat every time it gets ugly."

He sighed, "What I'd like you to do is not be an idiot out there--"

"Hm," She took another drink, "And I'd like you to stop being an asshole."

His jaw clenched again. Every time with this girl...

"Do you not see where I'm coming from?" He gestured to her ribs, "Look at you, Y/N. How many scars is that now? From our missions alone?"

She shook her head, fiddling with the cap.

"I don't know Barnes, that's not the point."

She did know, it was nine now.

"The point is I'm not going to change my mind and neither are you. So figure it out with me instead of fighting me every chance you get. Pick a different fucking solution."

It seemed Bucky couldn't stop sighing, he wanted to walk away from this night and be done with it. But he knew they'd be back in this position a month from now, and a month after that, and so on.

So, begrudgingly, Bucky sat down at the table.

"Fine. If you won't stop being reckless--"

"--And you won't stop being a dick--"

He pointed at her, "Okay first. Stop doing that. I get you're frustrated but you swear at me a lot. I hate it. It feels like you try to pick a fight."

She went to speak, but all she could think of were insults involving curse words. He'd proven his point.

Her lip curled in a scowl, "Fine."

He nodded. "Okay."

She shifted to sit with her arms crossed on the table, eyes flicking up to him.

"Stop telling me I'm an idiot. And stop saying I'm reckless. You think it's reckless 'cause I'm not Steve or Thor, or whoever else was enhnaced on the team... just because I'm not like you guys doesn't mean I'm being stupid when I'm out there."

God, he wanted to fight her on that.

Different capabilities meant different actions in certain situations, at least in his eyes.

But he kept it to himself, at least they were starting to work on something.

"Okay..." He drew out the word, subtly saying he wasn't okay with it, but Y/N didn't care.

He could think what he wanted, but he didn't get to throw it in her face every time he wanted.

"I can't control what you do on the field." Bucky started, "You make your own calls and you... you know what you're doing out there."

Y/N smirked at the look of pain on Bucky's face, she know he hated to admit it. But she was damn good at her job.

"--but if there's a situation that I think you need to stay out of, respect me when I ask."

"What if I think I can handle it?" She questioned.

He lifted his hand off the table slightly, halting her to let him finish.

"If I need you, I'll tell you."

She rolled her eyes, "So I'm supposed to wait until my coach puts me in?"

His fists balled in frustration. "No, I'm saying be there but..."

He leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling.

"I don't know, maybe we have a call sign when we both need each other."

He said that to appease her, he didn't think there would ever be a time he'd need her, but maybe she would need him. And at least it would keep her from jumping in and getting sliced to bits.

She snorted, "What, like a safe word?"

He huffed slightly, "I guess so, yeah."

That seemed to be enough conversation for her, as she stumbled out of her chair and clambered over to the musty pull out couch in the corner. She was still nursing that damn bottle in the crook of her arm.

Bucky sat, somewhat surprised that that was the end of it.

"I'm tired." She mumbled as she slipped onto the mattress, kicking her go-bag onto the ground.

I guess I'll take the floor, Bucky thought.

He raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug, his words laced with contempt. "Any thoughts on the safe word?"

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the early effects of a hang over.

"Yeah," she muttered, "Punching bag."

Bucky waited for more from her, but after a few moments of silence, her snoring began and he accepted that as the end of their conversation.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

He accepted his place in the awful rocking chair, but not before picking the bottle of tequila out from beneath her.

He took one final look at his patch up of her ribs, before settling into his seat, eagerly waiting for Sam's arrival.

They didn't speak more of their truce after that night, but there had been an unspoken agreement on both ends to keep their promise.

They'd be less hostile towards one another; and they'd work their roles independently during missions unless someone asked for help.

And, oddly enough, their "safe word" popped up more and more with each mission. It was easier than saying the words "I need your help", because both were so stuck in their pride to ever admit that. But "punching bag" worked just fine.

In fact, they had gotten so comfortable using it during their duo missions, that it became an oddity to the rest of the Avengers in team missions.

"Barnes, what's your location?"

"Intersection of Francis Street and Main."

"I'm west of Francis by one block. Alice Street. Punching bag."

Within less than a minute, he was there.

It was rare for Bucky to use it, but every so often he had.

One time, it had been used because Bucky's metal arm had adhered to the FOD magnetic sweepers of their combatant's tank.

Y/N had laughed when she arrived, but never brought it up afterwards.

That was another thing, an interesting development so to speak. In its month's of usage, "Punching bag" somehow became "come, no questions asked."

Sam, Joaquin and Sharon had all taken notice of this new addition to their lingo; but decided not to press it. Ever since it had been implemented, the two were actually getting along. Sam would argue they were somewhat friendly with one another.

It was a peaceful three months since their Russia mission, and the team was going to ride it out as long as they could.

Bucky felt numb. Which was bad, because usually that led to an anger spiral or a drawn out dissociation episode. Neither were good options for him.

It was a bad day. A really fucking bad day.

He had called his therapist, but at the fourth call with no answer, he had assumed she was asleep.

Of course she was, it was 2 in the morning.

Bucky tried to remember what she had taught him; their so-called "game plan" when things went south.

He didn't want to listen to music, he had tried going for a walk, he had tried using that dumb journal she recommened he'd buy but he couldn't write anything down.

Call someone, she had said, your line of work has a select few that understand what you're going through. And those select few happen to be your friends, you can lean on them . That's what they're there for.

He had hovered over Sam's contact for—about—15 minutes. But he didn't want to.

Some nagging feeling in the forefront of his mind pulled him back, to lean towards someone else.

He scrolled down, clicked the contact, and sent a quick message.

Punching bag.

And then he waited.

Bucky had left his location on in their group comms chat, and Y/N was surprised to see that he was in his own apartment.

Her mind jumped to an intruder holding Bucky hostage in his own home; or him being kidnapped, leaving his phone behind and it was the last message he had been able to send before being taken away.

She got paranoid like that. She was working it out in therapy, or whatever.

Bucky rarely used their safe word, which she resented him for, but when he did she knew it was serious.

She was there in 10 minutes.

Bucky heard shuffling outside his door; as stealthy as she was, he had the fortune of super-soldier hearing.

Then she gave their call sign, an additional one that was in early development. One knock, a pause, then four knocks.

You're, one syllable, an id-i-ot, four syllables

He'd respond back with two hard knocks to signal it was clear; two syllables for "fuck you".

Apparently their old habits died hard.

He had left the door unlocked, and she entered slowly.

With a quick scan of the room, she deemed the coast was clear. Even more surprising considering the text she had received less than 15 minutes ago.

She looked at him with question, "Our safe word is usually for emergencies, y'know."

He nodded, but said nothing.

She pursed her lips, more confused but coming in regardless.

"...Alright."

She slipped off her coat and kicked off her boots. She found it odd to see him on the floor, then noticing the pillow and blankets laid out on the hardwood, she realized that's how Bucky slept.

Late at night, she put two and two together; he'd tried to sleep and couldn't.

She folded her coat and sat down across from him.

She stayed silent, patiently waiting for him.

He continued to say nothing.

She waited for a few minutes longer, prompting him to give some sort of explanation for his text.

But again, nothing.

She clapped her hands once on her knees, and stood up. Bucky panicked, fearing she would leave---

"You got back at 10, right?" She asked.

Bucky was taken aback by her knowledge of his returning home, but nodded after his pause.

She hummed, "Okay. Have you eaten?"

"Uh--" Bucky thought for a moment, realizing he hadn't. "--No."

She nodded. It was a start.

"Okay. Then uh---I'm gonna get you some food."

After digging through the cabinets whilst Bucky sat on the floor, she mustered her supplies; butter, cheese, and bread.

Grilled cheese wasn't the fanciest of meals but considering the situation, it would have to do. Besides, she didn't know how to cook anything else.

5 minutes later, a plate plopped down in front of him, and she sat cross-legged as she started on her sandwich.

He watched her for a moment, before she looked up at him with a mouthful.

"Don't let good eatings go to waste Barnes," she wiped crumbs from her lips, "I put my blood, sweat and tears into this meal."

Shockingly, even to himself, Bucky laughed. And then he ate.

"I would've added onion," She said, "But you don't seem to have... many ingredients in your fridge, Buck."

He was surprised at her wanting to use onion, and even more surprised at her usage of his first name. But he let the latter slide.

"Onion?" He questioned.

She sent an odd look back at him, "What? You've never had onion in your grilled cheese?"

When he shook his head no, she went into a ramble.

"My god, you're missing out. I'll tell you this; one time, my Pops went into this diner, you see--"

Bucky felt himself smile as she went on, telling a story of her grandpa recommending the restaurant make it a special of the day, "grilled cheese with onion", and how it had been such a hit with the locals, that they gave her grandpa a free grilled cheese every day from that day on. Which was how she knew how to make it.

She told more stories about her grandpa, then about her family, and Bucky realized he'd never heard more about her in one sitting. In fact, he realized he had known nothing about her personal life the entire time they had been working alongside eachother.

He sat happily listening, grilled cheese in hand, and even took her up on seconds as she continued to talk.

Y/N figured that, sometimes, that's what someone needs. To fill the silence, to feel the normal, especially on days that were less than good.

And eventually, the other person would start talking too.

People need distraction. Sometimes they need to talk, they need advice, or they need help and action. But when someone needs you, and they can't find the words, talking of nothingness can be the best thing.

Y/N could be good at that, something Bucky never knew about her. And, something Bucky never knew he liked.

A silence fell over them, but not like before. Not the tense words-unsaid sort. But comfortable. She washed dishes and he sat on the floor.

She flicked her hands at the sink before drying them, Bucky wondered if she did that all the time.

"So," She said, "do you want to talk about it?"

The question might have been jarring to others, but to him it wasn't. Bucky just shrugged.

"I don't think so."

He didn't need to, he thought. This was enough.

She nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to go?"

He was shaking his head before he knew it, and she smirked.

Not the spiteful one she used to adorn with him, but more of a cheeky one. One a friend might give to another.

"Alright. Do you want me to stay?"

He picked at his ratty blanket he had tucked beside him.

"Kinda." He thought before adding, "If you don't mind."

She checked her watch, "I've got nowhere to be."

She said something about a deck of cards, and went to search his house, which for some reason he didn't mind.

She found a deck, Bucky hadn't known he owned one.

"So, I'm gonna teach you how to play King's Corners, kick your ass at King's corners, and then we're gonna talk about this bed situation which is unacceptable..." she trailed off in her teasing, and Bucky found himself laughing more.

She did teach him how to play, and he ended up kicking her ass, which she claimed was beginner’s luck.

She stayed all night.

More nights like that began to happen, sometimes Bucky spoke and sometimes he didn't.

Sometimes they fought, most times they didn't.

The fights happened less and less. The all-nighters happened more and more.

And Bucky noticed more things he liked. More than her grilled cheese, more than her comfortable ramblings, and soon he found there were more things he liked than not.

She trusted Bucky to hold his own on the field, and he tried not to be as protective of her, letting her choose her own actions. They found out that was what he was afterall, and she realized she had been too.

She had been staying longer and longer. The next thing they knew, she wasn't leaving at all.

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

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