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forlix · 4 months

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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.

— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

words・6.4k

pairing・han jisung x female reader

genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn

warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut

playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han

a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡

smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare

Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.

It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.

So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.

Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?

Why can’t I follow?

Then he wakes up.

No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.

Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.

Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.

You see him.

Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways.

Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.

He hopes you like horror movies.

Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.

Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.

“Lix, hey!”

“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”

“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”

“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”

This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.

“Eventful night, huh?”

He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.

“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”

“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”

Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.

A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.

“I’d like that.”

He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.

Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.

Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.

You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.

It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.

You turn towards it.

In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”

A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.

“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”

Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.

“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.

The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.

He wants to remember everything about you.

It’s not often he wants to remember anything.

Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.

He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.

Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”

Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.

You do the stupid thing for him.

You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him.

The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”

“Gimme your lemonade.”

The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige.

You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.

The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.

“Open,” you murmur.

His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.

You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.

He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.

He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.

The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.

“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.

“You’re a monster,” he croaks.

You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”

One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.

“...and you still remember my address…”

A suckle to the lobe of his ear.

“...you can kiss me, for real.”

A trembling breath.

“And then some.”

Jisung moans, loudly.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things.

He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.

Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.

The back in his dreams keeps walking.

Jisung has never liked winter.

He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.

He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter.

And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.

This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.

When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.

His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.

Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.

“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”

“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”

“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”

Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”

“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.

“My bad,” he sighs.

“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.

“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”

The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“We’re waiting on one more person.”

He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.

“Who?”

Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.

“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”

Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.

In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.

This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.

But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.

“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”

You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”

“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”

Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.

“Hi,” he offers.

“Hey,” you reply.

Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”

Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.

It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.

He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Jisung: do you have plans after this?

Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.

He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.

Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.

Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…

He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.

Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛

With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.

He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.

Or both.

He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.

Jisung: me too <3

When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.

As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.

He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.

“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.

“What did you realize?”

“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”

Jisung has broken hearts before.

There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.

He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds.

There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.

Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.

“Sure,” he answers.

He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.

Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.

“I like when we don’t talk, though.”

It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.

Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.

The glass fogs up anyways.

“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”

You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.

Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”

The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”

Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.

It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.

“W-why’d—where’d you go?”

He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.

“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—”

He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.

“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”

You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.

You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.

“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”

“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”

“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”

He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.

“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”

“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.

And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.

He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.

Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.

He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.

Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.

“You squirted,” he says.

“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.

He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.

Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.

He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.”

There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.

His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.

Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.

After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.

Snow comes a few weeks into the new year.

This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen.

The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”

He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.

Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia.

When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.

You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.

He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.

“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.

The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.

Only then do you notice the blizzard.

You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.

Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.

“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.

“When did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.

“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.

He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.

Your ribcage fucking throbs.

“You don’t seem excited,” you say.

He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.

“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.

“It’s a long story.”

Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt.

You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.

“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”

“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.

A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.

“You’re not driving right now.”

He breaks eye contact.

“Right?”

That was the plan, you read in his expression.

You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.

You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.

And you won’t.

“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”

“Stay.”

You’re not asking.

Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.

Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You can stay, Jisung.”

He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.

It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.

In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

The inevitable question follows.

“Can I save the story for another time?”

“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”

“We should.”

Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.

You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.

In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.

You wake to a black hole.

For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.

Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.

Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.

The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.

The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.

Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.

You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds.

But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds.

At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.

You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.

Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.

And you recognize him for the first time ever.

You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.

“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.

Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.

He’s been having this nightmare.

It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.

Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.

Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds.

Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.

This time, though, the snow tastes like something.

After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.

His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.

He wakes up.

“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”

You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.

“That’s—”

My shampoo.

A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.

“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I don’t want you to cry for me.”

“You died.”

“And I would do it again.”

This response comes without an shred of hesitation.

You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.

Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through?

Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.

He saves you the trouble.

“Honestly?”

Your confession stills.

“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.

“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”

You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.

“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”

You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.

“Don’t go,” he exhales.

You kiss him.

It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.

The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.

Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

The night comes and goes.

The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.

Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.

You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.”

Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten

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hellfireghoul · 1 year

Text

Partners, Roommates, Best Friends

RE4!Leon x f!Reader

Summary: Yourself and your partner Leon have just returned back from a harrowing mission overseas in Spain. The both of you are severely affected by what you'd seen out there, both developing insomnia that only the other can seem to cure. You share a job, a home, a friendship, and now a bed.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni. Smut.

Words: 3.8k

Notes: This is pure filth tbh nothing much more to add lmao apart from I need help

You and Leon had been partners for the past two years. Partners, best friends, roommates. Everything you did, you did together. There were pros and cons to this of course, the pros being the two of you knew every little thing about each other, and the cons being that you knew every little thing about each other - hence knowing how to get on the other's last nerve. However frequently that may happen, tonight was not one of those nights.

It had been just short of two weeks since you’d both returned to the U.S, after being on an assignment in Spain. It had been the hardest thing you’d ever experienced in your career so far. You didn’t need to have a conversation with Leon to know he felt the same. The tired faint expression on his face, and once shining blue eyes now dark and glazed told you a story without having to ask. The two of you had barely spoken about it since getting back. It was kind of an unspoken rule between the two of you usually, to never really talk about work. You assumed this was a fairly normal thing, wanting to keep work at work. The only time you and Leon ever discussed anything related to your jobs was when you both needed to. Sometimes it was good to debrief, after all the information was strictly confidential but seeing as how you were partners, it didn’t prevent you from talking about it freely to each other. Just one of the perks of being partnered together you supposed.

This hadn’t happened this time though. Instead you’d both simply gone about your daily lives, but both much quieter and more subdued. You noticed Leon was much more clingy, he wanted to be close to you at all times. This wasn’t completely out of character, but the intensity flagged up with you almost immediately. It started on the first Monday night since you’d gotten back on the Friday. Curled up watching a movie and he’d suddenly come and shuffled up close to you, and gently placed his arm on the back of the sofa and asked if it was okay. As soon as you’d nodded, his arm was draped around you and pulling you tight to his chest.

That’s when it started, and then it turned into hand holding whilst eating dinner and buddying up to go to the laundry room. Which then progressed into naps together on the couch during the day time. You knew full well neither of you slept at night. This wasn’t typical friend behaviour, friends didn’t hold hands having dinner or cuddle on the couch but, it’s what you both needed.

The clock had just struck twelve am as you climbed into your cold sheets on a damp and drizzly Friday evening. Two weeks since your return, and every time the silence fell and you closed your eyes you were back there again. Spain.

You couldn’t escape it, it was like running from a never ending nightmare playing on a loop in your brain. You’d been staying up for as long as you could, hoping that when you finally settled into bed you’d be tired enough just to switch off and sleep. You were always too hopeful. And always wrong.

You tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity, any tiny disturbance making you jolt your eyes open and jump. Something hit the window with a crack that made you almost rise two inches off the bed. You shot up, your hand immediately outstretched reaching for the pistol you kept in your nightstand drawer.

Your fingers gripped around the cold, heavy metal until you saw the loose bit of tree branch hanging from the window awning. Your chest relaxed, and you cursed under your breath at your own stupidity.

Everything made you on edge nowadays, even though you knew you were safe at home. You couldn’t be any safer if you were completely honest with yourself, knowing that Leon slept a mere door across from you was a huge comfort. Slept is a loose term, you would bet money on the fact he wasn’t asleep at this moment in time. However, he did almost act like your personal guard dog, whether you were on the job or doing your grocery shopping together.

The rain grew heavier outside, the pattern on the windows normally added to a serene atmosphere, the ambient sound usually lulling you into a peaceful sleep. It wasn’t working its usual magic however, you feared nothing would.

Sighing, you flung the sheets off you, determined to swallow your pride and do what you should’ve done two weeks ago. You needed a good night's sleep, and the only time you could ever get some sleep lately was during the day, wrapped up with your roommate. It was pathetic really, you thought to yourself. You’d never been this affected after a mission before, and you’d seen some gruesome shit, but this past assignment had been something else entirely for the both of you. You’d witnessed Leon almost die a million times, and those memories flashed up every time you closed your eyes and then continued like a reel you couldn’t turn off in your nightmares. In your dreams you weren’t there to save him, you were simply a helpless onlooker. You just had to stand there and watch.

Wrapping your arms around your body in response to the chilly air, your bare feet pattered across the wood floor as you crept out of your dark room. You eased the door open gingerly, trying to prevent any loud creaking as you slipped through the gap and into the hallway. Leon’s bedroom was directly opposite yours, and you hesitated for a moment at the door, trying to listen for any soft snoring that indicated he may be asleep. The last thing you wanted to do was disturb him if he had by some miracle managed to drift off, he was a light sleeper and you knew the second you opened his door he’d be awake in a flash.

Listening for a moment, you were met with complete silence, so you decided to go ahead and gently twist his door handle. Leon’s room was in complete darkness, apart from a slither of moonlight that cast a stripe across the room from the tiny gap in his curtains.

You crept in as silently as you could, making sure to close the door behind you with a gentle click. You saw movement from the bed, a shadow sitting up and you heard Leon sigh from the mound of sheets.

“Hey, it’s only me.” You whispered. “Sorry if I scared you.”

Leon exhaled a deep breath from his nose, and sat up from his bed, leaning over he pulled the curtains back a tiny bit more, revealing more of the room under the moonlight. You could see him now, and you were very grateful it was still dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you were blushing. He was sitting on his bed, shirtless and in pyjama shorts that hugged his hips in a way that made you want to stare. You’d seen Leon almost naked plenty of times and it never failed to cause a blush to creep up your cheeks.

“No, you didn’t don’t worry. I heard you get out of bed. You can’t sleep either?” Leon muttered, his voice low matching your whisper.

“No.” You responded, glumly.

He sat back properly in bed, and pulled the covers back, patting the mattress. Neither of you spoke, instead you simply obliged, silently accepting his offer by climbing under the sheets, the unoccupied side of the bed cold and crisp. Leon adjusted, shuffling himself so he was propped up on one arm and you lay on your back staring at the ceiling. Your shoulder was grazing his torso, and the warmth radiating from his body was exceedingly comforting. There was a lingering, but comfortable silence. Just being in one and other's company helped to relax the other.

“A tree branch scared me.” You suddenly said into the darkness.

“A tree branch?” Leon asked.

“Yes, it hit my window and I nearly had my gun out and everything. I’ve never felt so stupid Leon.” You huffed, and laughed humourlessly at yourself.

“I get it, I’ve been on edge too.”

“When d’you think it will stop?” You whispered, more seriously.

“I dunno, I really don’t know.”

Leon sighed, and brought his free arm over both your hands that were resting on your stomach. You froze a little at the contact, and Leon picked up on it immediately, because of course he did. He was so ridiculously in tune with your mannerisms and moods, he practically knew how you were feeling before you did. Leon immediately retracted his hand.

“Sorry, ‘there something wrong?” He asked, tentatively.

You took a sharp, shaky inhale of breath. Nothing was wrong with what he just did, and you weren’t sure why you’d tensed up like that. You and Leon were touchy most of the time, especially in the recent weeks, but it was in a friendly, overly comfortable way. Or so you’d convinced yourself. But there was something about lying next to him in his bed, bare skin almost daring to touch and feeling the heat radiating from his bare form that had everything feeling different. You suddenly felt as if you had nowhere to hide. You couldn’t play off a subtle touch as a friendly gesture. Everything felt all the more intense.

“No, no. It’s okay.” You reassured him, and you turned to face him, one hand tucked under your head as you met his gaze.

“I’m just tense, is all.” You smiled weakly, his piercing blue eyes never leaving yours.

“You won’t mind if I do this then?” Leon asked softly, as he rested a palm on your side and squeezed reassuringly. The contact felt comforting but was stirring up something else inside you you weren’t ready to address quite yet.

“I can’t stop the nightmares.” Leon said, suddenly. His confession shocked you slightly, he wasn’t one to share much, even to you. He’s gotten more generous over the years when it came to giving you an insight into his psyche, but it was still a rare occurrence that shocked you whenever it happened.

“You too?”

“Yeah,” Leon chuckled dryly, devoid of any humour. “You wanna talk about it?”

You sighed for a moment, and were very aware of how he’d begun tracing small circles on your thigh with his calloused thumb. You hesitated for a minute, before saying,

“I see you die every single time I fall asleep.”

Leon didn’t respond for a second, he was clearly processing what you’d just said but didn’t seem to be phased by your confession. His thumb was still tracing small circles.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, sincerely.

“I’m just terrified I’m going to lose you Leon.” You breathed, through a well of tears forming. What you didn’t know, was Leon had the exact same nightmares, except it was you he couldn’t save. The words broke Leon’s heart, and the hand resting on your thigh soon applied some pressure, pulling you in closer to him so your bodies were flush.

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, I promise.” Leon soothed, and kissed the top of your head firmly whilst you found yourself sobbing into his chest.

“I can’t stand the thought Leon, it scares me so much.” You sobbed quietly against his skin, and all he could do was whisper small “I know,”’s and “it’s okay I’m not going anywhere,” as he stroked your hair.

He gripped you tight, and it took you a moment to gain your composure before you were gazing up through teary eyes at the man next to you.

“What about you? What do you dream about?” You asked, your voice hoarse. Leon paused for a moment, contemplating your question and how to phrase the answer.

“You. The same situation but in reverse. I’m not fast enough or I’m not close enough or I’m not good enough, and I lose you.” Leon answered honestly, and your eyes softened but your brows knitted upwards in an expression of guilt and sadness.

“Oh, Leon…” was all you could muster as you stared at him. “I’m not going anywhere either.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and that was how it started. Before you knew it, Leon was leaning towards you and placing his lips on yours. He kissed you gently, his lips feather light on your own as he cupped your jaw to tilt your head up to him ever so slightly. It was like something clicked. You knew you’d always felt something for Leon, but you’d always feared taking it that step further, fearing it would ruin what you had or that it just wouldn’t feel right. But this, this felt right. It felt natural, normal.

You took initiative, deepening the kiss by propping yourself up on one elbow and pinning his chest flat to the bed with your other hand. Leon responded almost immediately, his hands finding your hips and tracing lines up your back as you hooked a leg over his waist. You were lost in the moment, the taste of him completely addictive as you entangled a hand in his hair, earning a low groan from him that caused heat to pool between your legs. Your hips began to move involuntarily, grinding gently against him that caused you both to shudder.

Leon held his hands against your shoulders for a moment, breaking away from the kiss and he pushed your hair out of your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, his pupils blown out in lust and his lips pink and wet. It was a gorgeous sight. You didn’t have the chance to respond before he was pulling you back into the kiss, but this time, he angled you in such a way that meant he could flip you on your back. He towered over you, his hair brushing against your face as he peppered doting kisses along your jaw.

You sighed, suppressing a moan as he worked his way down your body. He reached your breasts, and he looked up at you through hooded eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leon asked, his gaze never leaving yours. You nodded, and Leon wasted no time continuing. He lifted your his old shirt with ease, taking one of your breasts in his mouth and sucking gently. Your hand shot into his hair, intertwining your fingers in the strands and giving them a gentle pull to encourage him to be a little rougher. He got the hint, his other hand massaging your other breast applying a pleasurable amount of pressure whilst his mouth and tongue got to work sucking and biting your nipple. You desperately wanted to touch him, but your hands had no chance of reaching where he needed you in the position you were in. You reached between the two of you anyway, your fingertips just about reaching the tip of his waistband, indicating what you were desperate to do. Leon pulled his mouth away, causing you to mewl slightly at the lack of contact. He moved your hand away and gently placed it back at your side, not taking his hand away yet like he didn’t trust you not to move.

“I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” Leon spoke in a rough, low voice that sent your head spinning.

He continued down your body, placing kisses along your stomach before settling himself on his front and parting your legs. The way his breath felt against your clothed pussy made your skin flush hot. Leon hooked his arms around your thighs so they sat on his shoulders, and began placing more doting kisses along the inside of the soft flesh.

You tried your best not to squirm as he fingered the line of your panties, pulling the now soaked fabric to the side to allow him access. He groaned slightly at the sight of you glistening wet for him.

“Fuck baby.” He hissed under his breath, before placing a sloppy kiss on your clit making you gasp as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through your stomach. He placed another kiss on your clit, harsher this time causing your legs to clamp together. Before you knew it, Leon was back up on his knees and pulling your underwear fully off now, seemingly growing impatient with the fabric.

All bets were off the table now. Leon returned to his position on his stomach and threw your legs back over his shoulders, burying his face between your thighs and getting to work with his tongue. Your senses were completely overloaded, all you could think about was Leon, and a string of his name rolled off your tongue in throaty whispers as he sucked and licked in all the right places. Your hand shot to his hair once again, combing your fingers through the strands to massage his scalp. It was a desperate plea for him not to stop. You pulled on the strands which made him groan again, the vibrations reverberating against you which intensified everything he was doing with his tongue. You gasped, sitting up slightly and opening your eyes to see his stare fixed completely on you, drinking in your responsiveness. He was determined to please you, desperate to know exactly what you liked.

He pulled away for a second, his thumb immediately going to rub small circles on your clit as a substitute for his mouth. His blue eyes darted from you and back to your centre, before he sunk a digit inside you causing your jaw to fall slack.

“Oh my god.“ you breathed, your head falling automatically back onto the mattress, and you heard Leon chuckle lowly.

“You good, sweetheart?” He said, lowly.

You just about managed a nod, your eyes still closed and mouth slightly agape as the coil in your stomach began to wind tighter with every touch.

“Use your words baby.”

“Yes, yeah-“ You breathed quickly, eyes shooting open, fearing he might stop. Leon chuckled softly, before his mouth was back on your clit and he added a second finger that caused your back to arch involuntarily off the bed.

Leon curled his fingers upwards, hitting that spot inside you that caused you to lose all sense of self.

“Fuck Leon, right there oh my god.” You moaned, and you only got louder as his fingers got faster, working you with expertise you weren’t used to. You were so close, the feeling in your stomach building and building until it finally snapped. A string of cries escaped your lips as you finished, Leon’s hand pressed down on your stomach to keep you still as he continued to finger you through it.

You were still coming to your senses before you even realised Leon was now kneeling in front of you, lining himself up with your entrance and pumping himself a few times as he teased you. Your head shot up from the mattress when you realised what he was doing, and you immediately whined, reaching down between the two of you to impatiently guide him to sink into you.

“Eager much?” Leon smiled, his voice low and rough and it continued to make you dizzy.

“Please.” You begged with doe eyes up at him, but he just laughed softly and took both your hands in his, proceeding to pin them above your head with one hand whilst the other stroked his cock again.

“Stay like this for me, sweetheart.” He breathed against you, before pushing into you painfully slow. He stayed still for a moment, and you both moaned as he bottomed out inside you.

“Please start moving.” You whined.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Leon breathed, his right arm still pinning both your wrists above your head and just like that, he was snapping his hips into yours at a rate that was fatal. The sound of your wetness and his hips slapping into you filled the room. The gasps and moans that left your mouth as your jaw fell slack once again were obscene, you were propping your head up slightly, watching as he pounded into you and it made your head swim.

“Dirty girl, like to watch, do you?” Leon whispered through panting breaths as he continued to fuck you senseless. All you could do was pathetically nod, as your eyes rolled back and you let the pleasure overtake you. The familiar tightness was building again, you instinctively snaked your hand between the two of you and began circling your clit. Leon made a noise not dissimilar to a growl, as you clenched around him at the additional pleasure of your clit being stimulated.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Look at you, going all dumb on my cock.” Leon brought his other hand up and rested it around your throat, squeezing gently and this almost pushed you over the edge. You fluttered again around his cock, earning a low moan from his lips.

“You like my hand around your throat like this, baby?” He got the hint, you fucking loved it. He squeezed slightly harder on your neck as his pace increased, fucking you deeper than you even thought possible as the head of his cock kissed your sweet spot with every thrust.

You were a mess, writhing beneath him, eyes rolled into the back of your head and babbling nonsense as your climax grew nearer. Leon was close too, his thrusts becoming more stuttered and inconsistent. Your noises got even louder as you gripped onto the arm that held your throat, the pleasure now becoming overwhelming and the band in your stomach snapped again. Another string of cries, mixed with a mantra of Leon’s name left your mouth as you came, the spasming and squeezing around him triggering his own orgasm.

He emptied himself into you, groaning your name and panting into your ear as he slowly fucked you through your orgasm as well as his own. After a moment, he slowed almost to a complete stop before sliding out of you and laying on his back. The two of you lay there, getting your breath back and coming down from your highs.

“Why the fuck haven’t we been doing that this whole time?” You said after a few moments. Leon laughed, his broad chest rising up and down as he did and you still couldn’t help but stare as a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’re both idiots?” He grinned, resting his hand on his stomach whilst tucking the other one behind his head. “I’m sorry if I was a little rough back there.”

You frowned, turning to face him now.

“Not at all. It was fun.” You reassured him, taking in his beautiful face as he still remained laying on his back, glancing up at the ceiling.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t strike you as the type to get off on choking.”

Your mouth opened in shock and you slapped his arm playfully, and Leon just started chuckling and turned on his side to snuggle into you, his laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.

“You tired?” He said, lowly.

“Not really.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you yet.”

#Leon s Kennedy #Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon s Kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re4r #leon scott kennedy #Leon Kennedy smut

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fir3ylolol · 6 months

Text

cure for insomnia

pairing: Movie!Mike Schmidt x Reader

summary: mike comes home after a particularly hard night, completely exhausted. you know a way to help him sleep...

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, eating out, cunniligus, sloppy making out, lazy-ish sex, dom/sub, sub!mike, dom!reader, praise, begging, afab reader, gn reader, he is actually so pathetic im losing my mind

a/n: hehehehe i love men who are kinda desperate. pls enjoy my first non-mk fic. not rly a fan of the creator, but i've got a lot of love for the franchise

word count: 1.21 k

Ao3

You awaken to hear the door opening then closing softly, and you turn over, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You notice your alarm clock, loud red numbers reading ‘6:30’. You sit up slightly, stretching and yawning, as you hear the shuffling of someone removing their shoes. And there is that someone, Michael pushing through the door and landing face down on the bed. You pat his head gently, whispering to not disturb him, “Bad night?’ You hear him mumble into the blankets, “Awful.” He rolls over, starting to remove his shirt and taking a deep breath before speaking again. “Everything went wrong. Remember how Abby kept complaining that I wasn’t bringing her? I didn’t have enough time to get ready, which meant I forgot my sleeping pills. So I’m exhausted now.” You twist your mouth to the side, looking at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry dear, c’mere.” You pat the bed next to you, and he drags himself over, quite slowly.

He shuffles under the sheets with you, pulling you close. You giggle at him, face buried in your chest with content hums. But you wrap your arms around his head, one hand playing with his hair and the other gently scratching his back. He’s a complete sucker for your touch, visibly melting into the bed further. You can feel his hands slowly drifting around your back, tracing nonsense shapes. Until you feel his hands travel lower, even slower than before. You look down at him, wondering how someone so tired still has enough energy to do this. But his hands reach your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh under his fingers. He groans out, and you feel his mouth open to press kisses into your clothed sternum. “Hey, what happened to ‘exhausted’, huh?’” You question down at him jokingly. Without moving his face, he speaks into your chest again, “I’m never too tired for you. Besides, I know Abby had a field trip today so she’s already gone.”

“Wow, you’re so prepared,” you tease gently, but the hand in his hair drifts lower, tangling at the nape of his neck. You gently pull, tilting his head back, which he does with a soft whine. “Want some help falling asleep? Hm?” He nods against your hold, eyes rolled back slightly. But you can feel his hands leave your ass and travel between your legs. “Can I…taste you first? Please?” He asks quietly, voice needy and desperate. Your eyelids flutter slightly, and the air in the room feels thicker. But who are you to turn down such a polite request? You nod, kissing him on the forehead gently. Before you know it, his face is between your thighs, staring up at you with sleepy eyes. He kisses against the underwear covering you, causing you to squirm at the feeling. Slowly, he removes them, losing himself momentarily as he stares in awe at you. “God…you’re stunning,” he breathes out, before diving in. Normally, he’s gentle, making sure you feel good at your pace. But this is not normally. Michael wastes no time in diving in, lips pressed against your clit and rolling it under his tongue. One hand props your thighs open and the other joins his mouth in making a mess of you, a finger curling inside you at a desperate pace. You jolt at the sudden feeling, and your hand resumes its place at his neck. He leans into the feeling, slowing down, but not stopping fully. “Is this for me, or you?” You say, trying to remain composed. Mumbling against you, he manages to say, “Myoum,” vibrations cause you to shiver. “Then go at my pace, yeah?” He nods and leans back in, the same movements but slower.

Now he’s actually working to draw you closer, sloppy movements that chase after your release. He’s laid out on his stomach, hips rolling in short, stuttering movements as he tries his hardest to feel good too. And your grip on his hair has tightened, half-fucking yourself against his face as your eyes are screwed up in pleasure and moans pour from your lips. He’s whimpering against you, looking up at you with eyes full of sleepy lust. You have no fear of holding back, curses of pleasure as you get close. You clamp down, trapping his face between your legs as you cum, shaking slightly at the intensity. You can hear his muffled moans, tongue lapping against you. You finally come down, releasing your grip on him with a sigh. He moves to your side and kisses you, the bottom half of his face soaked. You accept, messy and passionate lips crashing against each other as you wrap your arms around his back.

You let go and push against his shoulder, which he easily does, lying down on his back. You help pull his pants and boxers off fully, cock finally free and weeping. Climbing on top of him, legs on either side of his hips, you kiss him again. His hands cling to your hips desperately as he tries to find release again, length pressing against your thigh. One of your hands travels down slowly, tracing against his chest, causing him to shiver. You grab him lightly, leaning closer to him and whispering in his ear, “Want me to take care of you, baby?” He nods desperately, whining through his nose. You rub the tip against you, as he jolts beneath you.

As you ease yourself down, his grasp on your hips tightens, loud and heady moans pour out of his mouth. You waste no time, sharp rolls of your hips as you sit up. You watch how easily he comes undone completely, light whines and moans as he twists under you. He can barely control himself, exhaustion heightening his sensitivity. But you don’t ease up, continuing to use him as his face contorts in pleasure. You lean forward again, bouncing and squeezing him, chest pressed against him. You can feel the speed his heart is going, fast as a racehorse, with heavy breaths to match. He’s losing it now, seeing stars, only able to let out almost silent whimpers as his grip on you starts to slip. You press gentle kisses against his cheek and decide to be unfair, whispering to him, “Come on, cum for me love. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it.” That does it, head pressed back into the mattress as he cums, hands shaking and legs kicking lightly. You’ve done it, you’ve destroyed him with just your body, as he babbles and whines incoherently. You stay on him as he comes down, watching as his movements still and his sounds grow quieter. As you climb off, he lets out a light whine but resumes his soft breathing once again. You lay next to him, smoothing down his hair and kissing his cheek. You go to speak but notice that he’s out cold, nearly snoring. You can’t help but giggle quietly to yourself, before wrapping around him gently. You don’t have anything to do today, and even if you did, you would stay here all day if he asked you to. As you enjoy the morning air, you hear him mumbling to himself, “I’m sore now.”

#fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #mike schmidt #michael schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf smut

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chrolloluvr · 2 months

Note

Can you please do Stolas,Alastor,Lucifer,and Adam with a insomniac reader Hcs

Alastor, Stolas, Lucifer, Adam x Insomniac!Reader

note: ty for requesting bookie bear! also i do not have insomnia, so if its a bit inacurate, sorry!! I am going purely based off of the definition! Also this is not proofread.

GenderNeutral!Reader:

warnings: use of pet names, thats all!

Alastor:

A couple months after your relationship started, he would sleep next to you (by sleep, he would lay with his eyes wide open, sprawled across your chest.) And would notice you rarely slept.

He would wake you up with a nice coffee, and say,

"My dear, whats with the long face?"

You would look at him deadpan, your eyes barely opening, and he would keep telling you to just rest your pretty little head, as he ruffled your hair.

When you try to explain to him that you are an insomniac, he wouldn't understand. Why cant you just sleep normally? (this rule does not apply to him)

He would try his best to help you, by giving you warm blankets, or even letting you rub and scratch his ears to help you sleep if you are lucky.

Would stay awake with you and read to you a story ranging from fairytales, to stories about when he was still alive.

Stolas:

Stolas is very attentive because he genuinely loves and cares for you.

He catches on very quickly to this sleepless habit of yours, and becomes very doting. Constantly saying,

"My little owlette, you need your beauty sleep! Do you need a massage?"

When you tell him that you rarely sleep, and that it's hard for you, he understands completely. He is a Goetia, he is going through a divorce, and he has to take care of his daughter. He knows how tired you must be.

He will let you lay on his chest and ruffle his feathers, and will sing you a lullaby (similar to the one he sang Octavia)

Adam:

Oh boy. If he sees sees you having trouble sleeping, he will most likely make fun of you.

"Cmon babe, why cant you just sleep, its really not that hard..."

He earned a slap to the face after he said that...

Once you explain that you have insomnia, he doesn't fully get it, but he loves you, so he tries his best

He ends up not understand shit, so he grabs Lute to come and help you.

The most he can do to help you is let you play with his hair with his mask off, or will try and get you to laugh.

Will stay awake with you most likely, and you guys will probably watch a movie and cozy up on his couch.

Lucifer

Also another one that understands. This man has gone through ALOT.

"Sweetie, why don't you come to bed, yeah?"

When you explain to him your issues, he feels bad for you, and offers to give you a back massage, or to play with his rubber ducks a bit.

Will try his best to at-least ease your mind

He will let you play with his wings and run your fingers through them, or even let you brush his platinum blonde hair.

He likes to remind you that he is always there, and that he will stay awake with you if you need it.

Will ask Charlie for help, and maybe get some advice from her

Will bring KeKe to play with you and keep you company.

#lucifer x reader #adam x reader #alastor x reader #Stolas x reader #stolas helluva #alastor hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #Lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months

Text

Your Guardian Angel

Male Angel Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Extremely dubious consent, stalking, possessive yandere, jealous yandere, general yandere behavior, manipulative yandere, emotionally manipulated reader, reader dies nonviolently but the story continues with them in the afterlife, reader's boyfriend momentarily has cancer, religious themes and concepts, heaven, angel disguised as a demon, mild biting, soul claiming, heartbroken reader) Word Count: 2.5k (This was written within one late night/early morning writing session and was not beta read, I hope you all like it and I apologize for any errors.)

Not everyone receives a guardian angel, there are simply too many humans in the mortal plane to meet that type of demand. Instead guardian angels are allocated based on greatest need to those who might be most vulnerable to dark forces and to those with stronger souls who would be too dangerous if corrupted by the likes of a curse, demon, or vampire.

But you were one such soul. Perhaps the trials you had struggled through in life had left your spirit bruised and battered and dark entities were primed to take advantage.

Or perhaps the things you had experienced had strengthened your will and that was reflected on your soul, making it a tempting mark for corruption.

Either way it really didn’t matter, the result was the same. You had a guardian angel, Eriphel.

Eriphel was, relatively speaking, still somewhat new to the work of guarding humans. He had been at it for a few human generations. Which was very short, considering the immortal life span of an angel. He was one of the younger angels that had been created for this task.

He protected each charge he had with complete determination, always near his assignment, remaining unseen to the mortal realm despite being on a plane that overlapped with it.

When he started watching you when it became apparent in your early adulthood that you required a guardian the job was no different from any of the others that he had.

But… there was something about you that fascinated him. He hadn’t allowed himself to pay much attention to the personal details of his previous charges.

Eriphel didn’t know what was different about you but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. No matter what you were doing he just had to drink it all in. Watching you do your job, watching you cook, watching you read, watching you do all your little human hobbies, watching you do anything filled his entire being with such foreign alien sensations.

His heart fluttered and his chest filled with warmth and longing. He even felt his pants tighten with arousal for the first time in his life. It was so euphoric… and torturous at the same time. The longer that he was around you the stronger all these sensations became.

After around a year it was no longer enough for Eriphel to merely watch you. To be only a passive observer as your life played before him like a movie he had no control over.

He started sleeping beside you in your bed, wrapping his wing around you protectively. Of course you didn’t know he was there, but your sleep did noticeably improve. No nightmares or insomnia, not on his watch.

Eriphel also developed a habit of hugging you at work, wrapping his arms around whenever you became upset or stressed. It helped your mood a lot.

The angel’s divine light was washing over your soul in these moments and even if you could not see him he knew he was the best thing for you. But he also knew that eventually you would pass away as all mortals did and your soul would slip through his fingers as it transcended to heaven.

He couldn’t allow that, he had to take ownership of your soul in the same way that demons did.

If he made a soul pact with you then he got ownership of your soul when you eventually moved on and then you would be his and his alone until the end of eternity.

But he didn’t have to rush it, you were not in any great danger and he could protect you and keep you alive from any external threat that could threaten you… even if it violated a few rules to intercept mundane physical threats.

He had plenty of time.

Or so he thought.

A bit of time passed and you met someone. A man by the name of Jason. A mutual friend had set the two of you up. You tried not to think too much of it at first, how could this tiny insignificant human have any possible influence on you when your souls had felt the holy embrace of an angel’s wings?

But as the days turned into weeks turned into many long months it became obvious you were in love with him.

Eriphel wouldn’t stand for it.

He had been with you for nearly two years by this point.

He knew your favorite color, he knew your favorite foods, he knew every single password that you had for every website, he knew what expression you had when you were deep in thought, when you were annoyed, when you were in the middle of an orgasm.

There was nothing he didn’t know about you.

As he stood before you in the dead silence of night watching your lover spoon you protectively tears rolled down his cheeks. He had never cried before, but he recognized the behavior from the humans he had watched over.

Something had to be done.

If he could just claim your soul then he wouldn’t need to worry about the relative tiny amount of time you spent in this world because you would spend eternity with him when you passed on.

Eriphel decided he would interact with you directly as you slept. He’d disguise himself as a demon and make a deal with you. Then you’d be his and everything would be alright. He was shaking with the sheer anxiety of what he was about to do, he had barely said anything to a human before and even then that was only with some who were deceased.

That night you had a vivid dream, it was so real. A demon came to you and made you a fabulous offer of wealth beyond imagining. You couldn’t remember what he wanted, but you felt the price was too high. You were scared. You turned him down and ran.

Eriphel should have known an offer of wealth wasn’t enough to gain what he wanted from you, still he thought it was worth a try. He knew you’d at least be tempted by all the good you could do with money.

When you next saw the monstrous demon in your dreams you remembered it even more clearly than you had before. You were in a pristine palace of obsidian and red, richly decadent but with an undeniably sinister undertone.

The demon spoke in a voice that sounded like several people talking in unison.

This time it offered to let your parents live longer, to give them pristine health for their age so that they could spend more time with you.

This time you were tempted, you hesitated. But after some consideration you still declined before fleeing. Your parents weren’t in bad health as far as you knew and them having a few extra years wasn’t worth the price of your soul until the end of time.

Eriphel was homing in on the solution, getting closer to the offer that would have you as his. But he wasn’t there yet…

A couple months passed and you and your beloved Jason moved in together. But tragedy struck as not long after that your boyfriend went to the doctor to get some worrying symptoms looked at.

Cancer. Inoperable brain tumor.

The news broke you, but you had to put on a strong face for Jason’s sake. He had always supported you and been the strong one when you needed him and now he needed you.

Jason fell asleep with his head on your chest as you held him in your arms. You made sure he was sound asleep before you let yourself cry silently.

It took a long time but finally the emotional toll of the day caught up with you and dragged you into sleep as well.

Once again you were in that clean, rich, sinister building of polished red and black. The horned demon standing before you again, terrible and proud.

“I can save him. I can cure him with a snap of my fingers. All you have to do is agree to hand over your soul after your death.”

You were shaky, you couldn’t think clearly after the events of the day, you wanted nothing more than for Jason to live the full life he deserved. If it meant you had to be a demon’s victim and tortured for eternity after your death then so be it, the years you had growing old with Jason were worth any price.

“Yes! Please! S-save him!!!”

He smiled and approached you, grabbing you by your clothing.

“Wh-what are you-”

“This is how a soul pact is sealed. You do want this deal don’t you?” You nodded and hung your head silently as he peeled off each article of clothing one by one. Suddenly you were in a different room, laying naked on your back with your legs propped up on the demon’s shoulders.

You knew he was a wicked and power hungry entity but the way he looked at you was almost like a human looking upon a holy relic. He took his time, shaking hands rubbing up and down every part of you.

This was not how a soul pact had to be sealed, but he couldn’t wait any longer to feel you.

The red skinned monstrosity kissed up your thighs, careful not to harm you with his horns. He was as gentle as a lamb.

When he finally got to the point where he was lining up his large cock with your hole he kept that same gentleness. You thought he’d have just ravaged you but he didn’t do that at all.

The demon slid his cock in you slowly, this wasn’t your physical body and no lube was needed, he glided deep inside you painlessly and moaned loudly as he did so.

Heaven was nothing compared to being inside his beloved darling who before today could have only dreamed of what it felt like inside of you.

As he slid his entire length in and out of you he bit at your chest, hungrily, but not very hard. Not enough to really hurt. Just enough to stimulate you and to taste your skin. He trailed up to your neck and licked, sucked, and kissed there over and over again like it was some drug he was hopelessly addicted to with no chance of quitting.

Your hands gripped the bed sheets feebly as he began to pick up speed. You felt a bit sick. You didn’t think that this would be pleasurable. You thought this would be as painful as he could make it, but it was so good. It made it feel like you were really cheating on Jason.

Even if this was probably just a stress induced dream your brain made to help you cope with devastating circumstances.

Eriphel couldn’t last long, being his first time and doing it with someone so supremely important.

His pace remained steady as his strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you close, slamming you down to his full nuts as he emptied them into you and the two of you shared a mind shattering orgasm. You could feel your very soul being claimed by his magical seed.

The demon kissed you passionately and then you and Jason both woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.

It was the doctor.

He was calling to explain that the machine was busted and was showing false tumors. He wanted Jason to come back in tomorrow for a scan on a different machine. He was probably okay.

The demon had kept up his end of the deal.

The two of you hadn’t slept long but now with the new test looming over the both of you neither of you could manage to go back to sleep.

When the time came the both of you got in the car with him driving and you in the passenger seat. Everything was fine and you both tried to calm yourselves and not get your hopes too high. Jason was likely okay, but there was always that small chance that he wasn’t.

You idly looked at the houses and trees as they passed when you saw movement from the rearview mirror. The demon hissing and lunging towards you. You screamed before everything went dark.

Doctors later examined your body and determined that you suffered a massive stroke. Not really what happened. Eriphel just couldn’t wait to have you, and he never said that he’d let you grow old with that… thing… you called Jason.

No, he said he’d cure him. And he had. It had been easy enough to reverse the magic he had used to give him cancer in the first place.

When you woke up you were in a large white room that looked like it was made out of marble, gold, and silver. The lights around the room looked to be carved out of pure milky white crystal.

You were confused. If you had died by the hands of that monster wouldn’t you be in the place you had seen in your dreams?

“Hello.”

You turned to see a tall lean man adorned in white robes, his hair was sparkling silver, he had a pair of great wings outstretched from his back, the feathers looked as if they had been dipped in the most thin and fragile layer of silver possible. His whole body glowed with a faint white light and his eyes were an otherworldly shade of shining gold.

“I understand you are confused. I am Eriphel, I am an angel that scours the mystic planes for demonic presence and eliminates it where I can. You were attached to a foul demon, a parasite of human misery. I noticed this just in time and snatched your soul at the moment of your death…”

You took in his words while staring transfixed at his beauty. You were really dead then. You introduced yourself and thanked him several times before calming yourself a bit and asking what you desperately needed to know.

“Is this heaven? Will I eventually be reunited with my boyfriend?”

Eriphel had to suppress a bit of rage that began mounting at that last inquiry.

“Sadly, your soul was marked by a demon, you can never enter the proper realm of heaven without being cast to hell, where that demonic entity would surely get you. But you are safe here, in my home. You will have to stay here… forever…”

His voice was mournful, and his eyes were wet with sympathy at your plight… or so you thought. Eriphel was really just crying because his fondest dream had come true. With no one else to interact with and his intimate knowledge of your every like and dislike you’d certainly fall in love with him.

The angel pulled you into a comforting hug as you sobbed into his chest at never being able to see Jason again, and he smiled wickedly as he rubbed your back. No one else would ever come between you again.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere exophilia #yandere exo #yandere angel #gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #male yandere x gn reader #male yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #My OCs #My OC Eriphel #yandere scenario

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silkscream · 5 months

Text

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

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hanibalistic · 10 months

Text

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 2861

warning | brief mention of bullying / mentions of death (reader from earth-42 has passed) / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie

note | i had to write something :'( it's been on my mind!

parts | one, two, three, four

Against his better judgment, Miles felt restless, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the miraculous event of you coming back from the dead or that seeing your face again made him realize how deeply he has deluded himself into thinking he had changed.

The truth was that he hadn't changed. He merely made the decision to completely push his identity away after your death, as it was the only way to shield his fragile mind from unraveling into a pit of suicidal doom, where all he could ever think about was to follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell. He put his face into a mask unseen by all, not even himself, and the mask ripped itself aggressively when he saw you fainted in the dead end of an alleyway at night. You were supposed to be six feet underground—he watched you fall off a skyscraper! He watched you get put six feet underground! How were you alive?

"Shit."

Miles cursed through a frustrated groan as he pushed the covers off his body. The clock in his room enunciated each tick of a second, reminding him how long it had been since he plopped himself on the bed and tried to get some shut-eye. The ticking noise irritated his ears like chalk scraping against a blackboard, and he would have thrown something at it if you and his mother weren't around to hear the damage. Staring at the dim ceiling, he heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes, not to get some sleep but to piece together everything that happened so far.

First, he found you fainted in an alleyway. He brought you home and decided to hide you in his room. A person who has been dead for nearly two years coming back to life was not the easiest news to break to anybody. He managed not a whole day of concealing your existence before his mother found out when she was tidying up the dirty clothes in his room. Baffled and even a little creeped out, she helped nurse you after you woke up, which was only later that night. Second, Miles called Uncle Aaron to help make sense of this situation, which led to him finding out that you weren't from this world at all—Miles clenched his fist as his train of thought shattered.

He always forgot you were not the same [Name] he knew; not the childhood best friend, and not the person he harbored secret romantic feelings for. He wanted so badly for you to be them, for him to be able to turn away from the guilt of not saving you years ago. For the most part, he did. The immense joy of spending these past few days with you, albeit with a few stuttered words and clumsy movements because you were both getting used to each other, was an experience very familiar to how it used to be like with the ‘you’ he knew of.

Miles took you everywhere upon your request, and his mother encouraged him to go out. He took you to play in the arcade, eat at the local sandwich place, and stand atop a massive neon sign advertising for a corporate brand. The only place he refused to bring you to was the skyscraper where ‘you’ died, and you didn’t push him to do so after the first time he refused. He kept himself relatively guarded these days, much like he has always been. But during the times with you, he has never felt more childish and happy. Chasing you down a crowded street and being forced to hold your hand like a leash was normalcy he forgot he deeply yearned for, and it made him happy.

The cause of his insomnia was simple: you. More specifically, the fact that you gave him something to think about, to worry about, and to lose.

Miles exhaled with exhaustion as he got off the bed. He thought a cup of water would do him good. It could clear his head. Pushing open his room door quietly to not wake his mother, flashes of colors on the television screen greeted him immediately, accompanied by the rhythmic tilts of your head as you watched the commercials on silent. He raised a brow. You were humming a song in your head; he wondered what it sounded like. Also, you should be sleeping so you can get some rest.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Fair ‘nuff,” Miles muttered as he walked past the couch to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some water when you sheepishly trailed into the area to watch him. Your stare made him uncomfortable, so he turned away from you and quickly chucked the whole cup of water down. He almost slammed the cup near the sink, stopping just before the glass could make a noise against the kitchen counter. “What?”

“I thought you have something to do tomorrow,” you said, ignoring his impatient tone.

“Yeah? What of it?” He shrugged, focusing on cleaning the glass with tap water.

“You should get some rest, then.”

“Thanks, my insomnia is gone now.” He rolled his eyes and wiped his hands on the towel hung on a magnet stuck to the side of the fridge.

The sound of your pitter-patter footsteps followed him as he made his way out of the kitchen. You hovered around him, watching him with squinted eyes as if trying to access him. He ignored you; he found the only way to keep his emotional walls up and guarded was to ignore you as best as possible. He had missed ‘you’ so dearly that even bickering with you was an activity left to be desired, and he could not afford to want more of you than he already did. He set himself a limit, and he planned to stick with it.

“Insomnia!” you whispered with a beaming face as if he didn’t just straightforwardly tell you his problem was his inability to fall asleep. You clapped your hands and held them in front of your chest in an intertwined position. “Let me help you. I know a good way to fall asleep!”

“Being around you is not one of them,” Miles muttered.

"Don't be mean," you said through a huffed-out giggle before you made a beeline to his open room.

He closed his eyes to hold down the pit of quiet rage burning in his chest. Your spontaneity was challenging to handle. His body could keep up with you weaving in and out of crowds. If anything, he was much faster than you could ever be. But his heart could not keep up with having to follow you around constantly, his eyes trailing your back, his legs picking up their pace to go where you go, and his voice talking whenever you talk. He set himself a limit for how much he would let you into his life—

Miles returned to his room to find you sitting cross-legged on his bed, grinning at his arrival.

—and you punched past it with ease.

"By the way, I'm sorry I have to keep wearing your clothes," you mentioned as you extended your arms, letting his sweater sleeve fall over your hands. "Your uncle's clothes are too big for me, and I don't like wearing sleep gowns."

He didn't mind. "I'll take you to get something when I'm free," he said. He planned to veto anything you wanted to keep you rummaging through his closet.

"You're taking me shopping?" you pursed your lips into a playful smile before you smacked your face with your hands, your torso squirming about to make an even bigger mockery of the situation. "How sweet, Miles!"

Too much ease—his walls crumbled like sandcastles under a gust of wind when he turned away from you to allow himself a chuckle. Then he caught himself. He rubbed the tip of his nose and fixed his jaw before returning to you; his less-than-menacing glare became dull and soft once his eyes filled with your reflection. He leisurely pointed at the bedroom door and almost laughed again when he demanded, "Go back to your room."

You pulled a face. He doesn’t get to tell you to do that. “No.”

"Get off my bed, then."

You thought about it for a little before you agreed. Scrambling off, you kept your arms on the edge of his bed, and your legs slumped onto the floor with the bed's support. Miles furrowed his brows when you tapped the empty spot on his bed twice, and he begrudgingly filled the space when he realized you didn't plan on leaving.

"I got you. You're gonna fall asleep in no time!" you exclaimed quietly, touching his chest. "This helped me a lot when I have trouble sleeping."

"Pattin' your chest helps you fall asleep?" he questioned in disbelief. Then, a beat later, he fired a question with a bitter taste, "Who's touching you like this?"

“Just me,” you replied, laying your cheek on your forearm. “Patting my chest helps me regulate my breathing, which is good for after I cry.”

He shifted his head slightly to eye you. “You cry a lot?”

“Hmm… no,” you mused. “Just when bad things happen.”

“Like what?”

“Like these.”

You lifted your head and raised your arm upward. Taking a break from the beat you rested on his chest, you pulled down the sleeve and flipped your forearm to his direction, showing him a short, bulging scar decorated just below your inner elbow. Miles lifted his body from the pillow and raised a brow curiously at the nasty scar, but he kept his opinion to himself. He watched as you pulled the sleeve down to cover it, and he deduced that there must be more of those injuries scattered across your body. Relaxing back onto his bed, he shrugged.

“One hell of a fall,” he commented.

“No, someone cut me,” you clarified as you leaned back onto your arm and pressed your hand to his chest again, “someone from school.”

It took him a moment to register your words and then another short moment to register the unfamiliar rage traveling through his body. This was unlike himself, unlike what he felt as the prowler. The signature thrill and trigger-happy sensation didn’t exist in this version of his anger. His fingers twitched with each jump of his thoughts, his hooded eyes scratching out an empty figure on the ceiling as if replaying the pain you must have gone through to receive that scar, and he recognized his anger as slow and steady, brooding and demonic.

There was no use holding a grudge against someone from a universe away, but Miles thought he would kill whoever hurt you. With the right technology, he may even erase their existence forever. Never mind killing; dying, in some sense, was a blessing. What if those people were never even born? Their existence wiped off the face of Earth, reduced to nothingness, with no pictures, no songs, and no memories to preserve even a trace of their livelihood.

“Hey, you can’t fall asleep like this.” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “You’re being really tense, Miles.”

“That’s 'cause you’re terrible at helping people fall asleep,” he retorted as the muffling in his ears began to scatter.

You scoffed but didn’t cease the rhythmic pat on his chest. Instead, you turned your focus elsewhere. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“What was I like?”

He sighed. “I’m not talking about it.”

“Fresh wound. Got it,” you said with a nod. But he knew better than to let his guard down. The smacking of your teeth was an indication of your mind gears turning—unbeknownst to him, he had your habits memorized in a span of a few days. A frown increasingly widened on your face until your mind map ended, and you hummed at the distaste in your mouth. “Were you in with love them? It feels like you were.”

He glared at you pointedly, but the intimidation passed your head as you leveled him with a curious gaze. Miles choked on his thoughts. Nothing he could do here would stop you from believing in his denial. He could turn away, ignore you, or even verbally deny your question! Nothing would have gotten you to let go of your correct assumption that he was in love with ‘you,’ and by extension, him being in love with you too.

“What made you think I was?” he asked, flipping the attention to you.

You let out a curt giggle and sheepishly shrunk into yourself. “You’re really nice to me.”

“Because we were friends.”

“Yeah,” you mused with a grimace before you smiled. “But it’s much more interesting to think you were in love, isn’t it?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes and rubbed his face in exhaustion. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course! I’m sorry, it must be tough to have the love of your life watch you while you sleep,” you snickered with a few nods of approval directed at yourself.

You rested one side of your cheek against the bedsheet, finally deciding to heed his plea to be quiet. Miles took your silence as a chance to close his eyes and finally relax into his headspace. The consistent pat of your palm on his chest served as a hypnotic device to lure you to sleep more than it was for him. The real lure of peace for him was more from your presence in his room and the soft humming that trailed out of your shut lips. That must have been the song you were thinking of when you watched the television on silent; Miles got it memorized after a few loops of it.

You shifted sleepily on the floor and looked at him. You thought he didn’t look so hateful asleep as he always did. He looked at everything with such coldness, distant enough to be out of reach but close enough to justify hating everything. With you, his eyes held a sense of unwilling defeat, like he was grounding himself on the spot to keep from running to you, and he hated every minute of it even though he thought it was for his own good to shut himself out. He always looked like someone refrained from holding a loved one as they stood before him with open arms.

Your suspicion that he was in love with you from this world didn’t spawn out of nowhere. You merely knew he wasn’t ready to be confronted with his feelings, so you made a humorous joke out of it instead. But you would tell. You could always tell because nobody had ever looked at you like that before, and for once, someone’s unfamiliar eyes made you feel a centuries' worth of romance rather than torture.

“It’s nice to know a version of me is likable,” you muttered to yourself, and you laughed. "And I thought nobody would ever fall in love with me.”

Miles laid still on his bed for a little longer, listening to the clock tick by. When your humming ceased and your hand stopped patting a beat on his chest, he opened his eyes and carefully turned his body toward your direction. He took a good look at you; his eyes brushed past those identical pair of eyes, your recognizable nose, your soft lips, the curve of your jaw, and your ears made small over his hands. A shivering breath latched at the tip of his tongue, and he had to huff through his nose to remind himself to breathe.

You didn’t wake when he carefully hooked his arm under your legs and pulled you onto his bed. He made space for you on his bed, and he made space for you in his concealed heart that once only belonged to him.

Despite the illusion, his mind knew who you were, but his heart couldn’t pick apart the differences. Except it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. This wasn’t about how you both looked and sounded the same. This was about him and his feelings. This was about him having fallen in love with you before, and now, as he felt his shattered heart piecing itself together through the mere sight of your sleeping face, he was about to do it again. His heart knew you were different, and it did not care. He was ready to fall in love with you again, and he was ready to fall in love with you anywhere.

Because the moon never stops orbiting around the sun. Because Miles chose to let go of himself instead of letting go of the love he has for you. Because he would fall in love with you every time, and he would choose you over himself every time.

“What do you even know,” he touched your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “about people falling in love with you?” What do you even know about Miles Morales falling in love with you?

He hugged you close and shut his eyes—you knew absolutely nothing.

#miles morales imagine #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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hihomeghere · 2 months

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Insomniac

Word Count : 1.8k Summary : Five has trouble sleeping and when he does sleep it's anything but peaceful. After a nightmare he craves your touch to remind him you're okay. Warnings/Tags : Talk of nightmares, insomnia, smut, piv, cursing, allusions to violence, use of y/n, Aged up!Five

Happy Valentine’s Day <3

Whether or not Five wanted to admit it he was an insomniac. Blame it on his heightened survival instincts from the apocalypse, or the commission. Whenever it was time to relax and go to sleep, Five felt more wired than ever. Which led to you normally finding him in the strangest positions when he finally crashed. Whether that be hunched over the kitchen table, cold coffee in a mug next to him. Sometimes you’d find him slouched in a chair, a blanket draped over him by one of his brothers. Your favorite was when you’d be watching a movie together, his eyes slowly closing, he’d mumble something along the lines of, ‘just resting his eyes for a second’ before he’d be snoring on your shoulder. A sure sign that he was still an old man in a young man’s body.

It’s not like he didn’t try to sleep. Every night you’d both climb into bed, you’d lay your head on his chest, the soft beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. He’d lay awake, his mind constantly churning. He’d gotten so desperate at one point he’d tried to follow the meditation video Klaus had lent him. Although listening to some lady stoned out of her mind telling him to breathe deep only agitated him further.

On the nights where Five did fall asleep it was anything but peaceful.

Five screamed, waking you up as you all but jumped out of your skin. Five sat up in bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing erratic. You sat up, the sheet pooling around your waist.

“Five?” You whispered your hand lightly grazing his back. He jumped, turning to you like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back in a snarl, wide eyes glaring at you. “Hey,” You pulled back watching the gears turn behind his eyes, guilt washing over him as he realized you weren’t a threat. “Hey it’s ok, you’re ok.” He leaned forward resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him. His heart was beating like a small animal against your chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Hot tears wetting your collarbone.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” You soothed, your hand traveling up to his head. You ran your fingers through hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He let out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip around your waist. “Do you want some tea?” You asked, you had been trying to help him kick his coffee addiction.

“Coffee.” He mumbled, sighing into your neck.

“Ok, let’s get some coffee.” You said peeling the sheets off the two of you. He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. You grabbed your robe off the floor, wrapping it around your body. Five stood by your bedroom door, bleary eyed. You took his hand leading him down the stairs to the kitchen. You looked at the clock as you passed the oven, 2:35. You internally sighed slipping your hand out of Five’s grasp. He pulled out a chair, grimacing as it scraped across the tile floor. You walked over to your new Keurig, Five’s birthday present. You popped one of the pods in before shutting the lid. You walked over to the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a mug and setting it in the Keurig. The smell of coffee filled the air as Five got up from his seat. He walked up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck. You had both been trying to be more open about your pasts. Which meant having these uncomfortable conversations.

“Just-” He sighed, “Just stay with me for a minute, dearest.” You nodded slightly swaying as you both stood in the kitchen. Five loosened his grip around your waist, reaching past you to pick up his coffee cup. You leaned against the counter, pulling your robe closer around your body. He held the mug in one of his hands, leaning his head back against the cupboard cabinet. He let out a sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re staring.” He mused, turning to look at you.

“I’m just-” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders, “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” He said with a tight lipped smile. You raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms.

“I know you better than that.” You said a small smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“Then you know what it was about.” He huffed, bringing the mug to his lips.

“A or c?” You asked, looking down at your feet. You had invented a code between the two of you, A for apocalypse and C for commission. While you couldn’t relate to being stuck in a post apocalyptic world, you were all too familiar with the inner workings of the commission. The killings you both carried out plagued your dreams as well. Your hands had been stained long ago.

“C.” He answered. The commission. Well that narrowed it down.

“Real or not real?” He hesitated, sneaking a glimpse toward you before raising his gaze toward the ceiling.

“Not real.” He said before clearing his throat. You walked over to him, laying your hands on his cheek. He avoided your gaze keeping his eyes lo

“Was it about me?” You asked, pushing his head slightly with your hand to get him to look at you.

“Yeah.” He said clenching his jaw, his eyes darted away from yours. You waited for a moment, to see if he would say anything more.

“I’m right here.” You whispered after a moment had passed, “I’m right here and I’m ok.”

“I know,” He leaned forward his lips finding your neck, he breathed in your sweet scent. The tiniest hint of sweat from the night. His hands found your hips, pulling you against him.

“I need you.” He breathed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses.

“You have me.” You sighed, leaning your head back offering him your neck.

The world spun and the temperature dropped as Five blinked you both back to your room. It took a second to get your bearings before your knees hit the bed. You allowed Five to lay you down, his long fingers curling under the waistband of your pajama pants. He pulled them off, while you pulled your shirt over your head.

“So gorgeous.” He murmured, kissing up your stomach. You sighed contently, melting under his touch. He pulled away briefly, pulling his shirt off and stepped out of his pajama bottoms. Leaving both of you in your underwear. He lifted your hips up off the bed, his fingers curling into the waistband on your panties as he pulled them off. Your body buzzed with anticipation as you watched him take off his boxers. He climbed forward onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You grabbed the back of his neck pulling him forward into a kiss as the head of his cock found your entrance. Tasting the bitter coffee on his tongue as slipped inside with the familiar ease of a lover. You gasped into his mouth, feeling every inch of him as he pressed inside you.

“There you are.” He sighed against your lips, his own curling into an easy smile.

“Five-“ You moaned, gripping his shoulders as he slowly started thrusting inside you. He never left your cunt, hips rolling against yours. Your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close as possible. Your moans and the sweet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. You looked up at Five, his eyes bore into yours. You felt a bit shy under his gaze, your eyes darting away.

He stilled, laying his forearms beside your head as leant over you. He covered your body with his own, his hand turning your head so you would look at him.

“Let me see you.” He said softly, nosing against your cheek.

It was moments like this that made you feel like a normal person. Moments when it was just the two of you in the world, two becoming one. He reached down, grabbing your thigh, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. He was taking his time with you tonight, that much was clear.

Your heels dug into his butt, trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a small laugh, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. He slowed, his hips creating a low drag into your cunt with every thrust. His pubic hair rubbing against your clit in a delicious way that had you clenching around him. A low whine pulling its way out of your throat, as he propped himself up.

“You like that doll?” He whispered, his cock rubbed at your walls in deliberate strokes.

“Mmhm.” You nodded tears springing to your eyes as you bit your lip. Your body craved more, more stimulation, more Five. “Please.” You whined, your hands digging into his shoulders, leaving small crescent shapes in their wake.

“Please what?” He asked tilting his head as he leaned down, nipping and sucking at your neck.

“More, I need more please.” You said bucking your hips up to gain and friction.

“As you wish.” He said, his breath fanning across your neck as he snapped his hips into yours. You moaned, your eyes rolling back into your head as he set an excruciating pace. He sat back on his heels, pulling you down the bed with him. He slammed into you, leaving you a moaning mess under him. You grabbed his thighs, nails dragging down his pale legs. Your body buzzed as you neared your high, breasts bouncing as he drove into again and again.

He watched you, picking up subtle signs your orgasm was approaching. Your toes curled as he reached between your bodies, rubbing deliberate circles on your clit.

That was enough to send you over the edge, you spasmed around him, your nails digging into his thighs as you cried out. Tears slipping down your cheeks.

“That’s it.” He smirked, breathing hard. He was getting sloppy as he neared his peak. You continued to ride out your orgasm as his came crashing down.

“F-Fuck.” He groaned spilling into you, his hips stuttering as he painted your insides. He lowered his body onto yours, laying his head in the crook of your neck as he interlaced his fingers with yours. You both breathed hard, letting your heart rate come down.

“How do you feel now?” You asked breathlessly, squeezing his hands.

“Much better.” He nodded, kissing your neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You said pulling your hands away to wrap them around his sweaty body.

Needless to say, Five slept through the night

#the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves smut #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves #sloane hargreeves #tua x reader #hihomeghere #valentines day

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m00nh1gh · 4 months

Text

OLDER

Bsf's dad!Bang Chan x reader

You knew you had a thing for older men but you didn't expect to be in this situation.

Contains: Unprotected car sex, masturbation (f), fingering, there's an age gap, but the reader is legal AND they didn't know each other when she was a minor, just a little heads up.

Word count: 3.1k.

Sleepovers at your best friend's house were always the best. You'd watch plenty of movies (or videos on YouTube) and cook together when her dad wasn't home. You had done all of that tonight and even had a photoshoot for new profile pictures and posts for Instagram. You really went all out for it, too.

Though, there was always one thing that bothered you at those sleepovers and it was the sleep part. Yuna snored a lot and it lead to insomnia for you. You'd usually be okay with it, because you never failed to bring your headphones, but this time, you had let them at your house.

You grunted for the fifth time in a whole minute before letting go of the pillow you'd been using against your ears to try and muffle the sounds, but to no avail. You decided it could be good to take a little walk in her house. You guys were alone anyway, so it wouldn't bother anyone.

You slowly opened the door of her bedroom, walked out and made sure to close it behind you. You looked around to make sure her dad wasn't here and went to the kitchen silently.

You poured yourself some water in the glass you used tonight and took a big sip of it. You could finally relax once you were away from Yuna. You didn't even know exactly why snoring irritated you so much. It made you feel bad to complain about it so much, but you just had to.

"Y/n? It's late, why aren't you sleeping?"

You jumped and put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from yelping. You had never heard him coming in the house, even less walking in the room and leaning against the doorframe. He didn't look annoyed or bored. He was, in fact, smiling at you with a raised brow. It made you blush - as usual - and you looked down.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. I just came here to get some water.

- You know it's alright, you should still get some rest though," he placed his coat on the kitchen island as he walked to the fridge, which was right beside you.

His sleeves were rolled up and you couldn't help but to take a look at his arms and hands as he took a plate Yuna and you had prepared for him earlier. He placed it in the microwave for one minute and thirty seconds and then he looked back at you.

"She's snoring again, right?

- Yeah."

He laughed and suddenly, your heart started beating faster. This wasn't right. You shouldn't feel like this around him. He's your best friend's dad, for God's sake!

"I'll be awake for a while more, wanna come to my office? I could use some company.

- Oh, but I don't want to bother you…

- You won't. I really would appreciate your company. But if you wanna go back to sleep, then it's good too!" His dimples are so hot. His office outfit is so hot. You felt hot.

"No, I'm not going to sleep," you smiled at him before following his lead to his office that was on the second floor. It was the first time you steeped into it and it somehow felt intimate; Yuna had always told you her dad did not let anyone in there while he was gone and now he invited you to sit on the small couch that was settled next to a bookshelf.

"Don't tell Yuna about this, she'll start coming here without my permission," the man sighed as he sat on his chair behind his desk. He turned his computer on and looked back at you while it loaded. "You can do whatever you want, I have books there and other stuff… Just don't touch what's on my desk, not that I think you would anyway," he gave you a wink and a smile as he laid back on his chair, turning his attention back to the screen.

Some time passed since your last interaction with Christopher. You had picked a book from his shelf, but quite honestly, it was just to make yourself look busy. You surely couldn't concentrate on it when you could see him shift on his seat and hear him sigh from time to time, clicking his tongue and grunting. You didn't know what he was working on, but it surely made him frustrated.

You looked at the cover of the book since you didn't even know which one you had picked. That's how uninterested you were about it, but maybe that you should start being, because Christopher's noises made you think some stuff that you shouldn't think about.

"100 Cocktail Recipes; Spice your Drinks Up!" What the fuck?

"Is everything alright?" You opted on asking, coming to the conclusion that you wouldn't read anything tonight.

"Yeah, yeah. Just work stuff, you know?" He looked rather enthusiastic about you finally talking to him. You guessed he needed a little break from work.

"Yeah, I know," you looked around the room, suddenly feeling really awkward and regretting having talked to him.

"I guess I could take a small break," he sighed and leaned back on his chair, his hands behind his head as he looked back at his screen. "Wanna go on a little drive?

- I'd actually like that, yes," you smiled and you both got up to walk out of the office.

"Wait just a bit, I'm gonna go change into something else," you nodded and he came back a few minutes later with a t-shirt and simple jeans. The shirt was tight. You didn't even know how it didn't tear because the man is muscular. You shook your head a little to let go of your thoughts and followed Christopher to the entry door.

Once your shoes were on, he let you get out first and he locked the door behind him.

"Let's hope Yuna doesn't wake up," he chuckled and unlocked his car. You smiled and mentally prayed that she wouldn't notice you were out too, walking to the car and getting in the passenger seat as Christopher sat at the driver's seat.

"So, where are we going?

- Anywhere, it's up to you.

- I know a pretty spot somewhere. Let's get snacks and then go there. Yeah?

- Sounds good," you smiled at him and he returned it, starting the engine and driving to a small convenience store Yuna and you went to often. It was the only one that was open the whole night, so when you ever craved something late, you walked there and took whatever you needed. You even became friends with the cashier.

"Hey, Y/n!" Jeongin waved at you and nodded at Christopher. You walked to him as Christopher picked some snacks in the store.

"Is that your dad?

- No, that's Yuna's dad," you looked behind to make sure he wasn't near you and you leaned forward. "He's fucking hot."

Jeongin laughed and shook his head.

"Do you even know how old he is? Not that he looks 60, but that's still her dad.

- He's like in his half 40's, it's alright.

- What are you guys talking about?"

You jumped as Christopher put food and drinks on the counter. Jeongin stayed silent as he scanned the items and you cleared your throat.

"Are you two dating?

- What? No, no!" Jeongin finally spoke.

"That's Yuna's boyfriend," you added, side eyeing Jeongin whose cheeks reddened significantly.

"Am not.

- Not yet," you teased and Christopher laughed.

"I'll be looking forward to our first family dinner with you, then," he paid for the stuff and took the plastic bag after Jeongin put the receipt in it. You said your goodbyes and walked out with a smile still sitting on your face, thinking back to Jeongin's shyness at the mention of your best friend.

"They'd look cute together," Christopher said as you both got back in the car.

"I know, right? But they're both so oblivious that it hurts me sometimes.

- Give them time and eventually, they'll confess."

It was a ten minute drive until Christopher parked his car in an empty parking lot, which was right in front of a small river. There were benches along it and lampposts beside each one of them. It was a pretty spot indeed, but you wished you'd brought a jacket with you if you were to get out of the car.

"We can stay in the car if you want, you're not wearing something adequate to the weather," he remarked and you agreed.

He took out two bottles of water and handed one to you. You opened it and immediately took a sip. You hadn't noticed how thirsty you were, and the water felt refreshing in your throat.

"And what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?

- No, guys at school aren't for me.

- Ah, I see," it was silent for a little moment until you heard him unbuckle his seat so he could turn to you the way he wanted to. "What about older guys? You know, you're old enough to have a little age gap in relationships now."

You played with the cap of your bottle nervously, your heart pounded hard in your chest and you could hear it. "Yeah, I like older men.

- Men, huh?" He smirked and turned your head towards him with a hand placed on your cheek. "Have you tried talking to them?"

You shook your head and hardly swallowed, suddenly needing another sip of water. But, you couldn't move. Christopher looked too beautiful in the dark of the night, with only a small amount of light that hit the side of his face. His lips looked extra kissable and they were still a little wet due to his drink and you felt yourself getting needy.

"No, I haven't.

- Then talk to me," he leaned close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your neck and you closed your eyes, "Am I old enough for you?

- Yeah," you whispered, and you swore you could hear his smirk. He looked back at you, and it was hard for you not to look away. He was way too intimidating for you to hold eye contact.

"I knew you'd be a good girl for me," he kissed you shortly once, and then the second one was deep. His lips- God, his lips felt so good against yours. They were so soft and fit perfectly with yours, driving you insane and you undid your seatbelt to get closer to him. Christopher groaned lowly as his tongue entered your mouth, and his hand found its way to your thigh, slowly hiking up your shorts. Well, as much as he could.

You shivered at his touch and softly bit on his lower lip, making a moan escape from his lips and that was it: now you were wet for sure and he broke away from the kiss, looking at you with lustful eyes.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice deeper than usual.

"I just want you," you admitted, placing a hand on his chest. It trailed down to the end of his shirt.

"Then I'll show you how much I want you too," he reclined his seat a little and gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You obeyed and immediately felt him through his pants. He was already half hard for sure.

"So fucking beautiful," he took a strand of your hair between his fingers, then putting his hand at the back of your head to pull you closer so he could kiss you. He slid his hand down your waist, making its way under your shorts. His other hand cupped one of your boobs through your tank top. You whimpered and put your hands around his biceps, feeling his muscles flexing under them.

His lips were so rough against yours that it added an edge of excitement to the moment. You were completely lost in this touch, his hand was back out of your shorts and was settled on your hip. His other one was sliding down your sides, feeling your curves.

"You're going to drive me insane," you hummed against his lips and rolled your hips a little, making him groan and pull you away from the kiss. "Touch yourself, baby," he commanded, moving one hand to grab your ass and squeezing it.

"What?" You asked with a small voice, unsure of what he meant by this.

"I want to see you touching yourself," he clarified, his voice as rough as his touch. A hand under your top now, he found your nipple and teasingly brushed against it. You reacted to it, pulling yourself closer to him, and you nodded, spreading your thighs a little. You slid a hand under your shorts and panties, reaching your clit immediately.

His hand finally pinched your nipple and it earned him a moan from you. "That's it, baby," he breathed. "You look so fucking hot."

You hummed again, rubbing small circles on your clit as you absorbed everything he told you.

"So obedient. You like being my good girl? Like touching yourself for me?

- Yeah," you moaned as your hips bucked up, looking down at him.

"Tell me more," he demanded. He wanted you to beg for him, to show him just how much power he held over you.

"I like being your good girl, only yours," you said, pulling the fabric of your panties and shorts to the side so he could have a glimpse at what was going on under your clothes.

"You're such a tease," he teasingly traced a finger along your wet folds. "Look at how wet you are for me."

You whimpered and stopped touching yourself for him to take over. Your hands went back to his biceps.

"Do you like being teased?" He asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He continued teasing your pussy, ignoring how you tried getting away due to how sensitive you had gotten.

"No," you closed your thighs around his hand.

"Yes, you do," he said, leaning in to kiss you like a hungry man. His free hand squeezed your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple as he started rubbing on your clit. You moaned against his lips, spreading your thighs for him to touch you better as you tugged at the sleeves of his shirt.

With a low chuckle, he pushed your panties to the side more and slid a finger into your sloppy hole, immediately finding your g spot. "Want me to make you cum?" He assumed you were already ready for a second finger, so he slid another one inside you.

"Yes, please. Please," you breathed out, getting used to his fingers inside you.

"That's it," he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. "Feels good?" He asked, placing hot kisses over your neck as he continued with the right amount of pressure and speed.

"Good," you agreed, lifting his shirt up a little so you could have a look at his toned abs, finally touching the skin. That made him groan again, his fingers digging deeper into you as you touched every inch of his chest. Once your hand reached lower, his hips grinded against it slightly, and you didn't waste another second before unzipping his pants and cupping his dick through his boxers.

He moaned, his hips grinding a little more against your palm. "You're so hot,"

You moaned when his finger brushed against a certain spot inside you and it made you squeeze his cock a little. He lifted himself up a little so you could slide his pants and boxers down a little. Christopher's breath hitched a little and his eyes locked with yours, filled with lust and anticipation. "Fuck."

"Want you inside me, Chris. Please?" You asked, pumping his dick slowly to spread his precum all over his shaft.

"Alright, baby," he hissed a little at your touch. "If that's what you want. But I can't guarantee I'll be gentle," he warned, guiding himself to your entrance once your hand had left him. You nodded and pushed yourself down on his dick a little so his tip was already inside you. You moaned and put a hand on the back of the seat for support as you sunk down painfully slowly.

Christopher lost some of his patience and grabbed your hips harshly, thrusting into you sharply without warning. You gasped and threw your head back, feeling the stretch of his dick clearly. It hurt for sure, but you didn't say anything. He knew to give you some time to get used to him. He brought you closer and started kissing your neck. "Told you I can't be gentle," he mumbled as he softly nibbled at your skin.

"Can move," you said, rolling your hips against him. He moaned and guided you, giving a small slap at your ass as you rode him. It was your first time, but by Christopher's moans, you guessed you did good, and you found the hem of his shirt to tug at it.

He got the hint and quickly got it off, throwing it at the back of the car, completely forgetting about it and giving his complete attention to you. Your hands quickly found their way to his upper chest, pawing at the skin. "Fuck, Chris," you moaned against his ear.

His eyes rolled back as you touched him and moaned in his ear that way, picking up the pace of your movements as he guided you on him. "Yeah, feel good, baby? Like having sex with older men? They're better at it, right? They have more experience… I know what's good for you," his lips trailed down your collarbones, and you moved so he could mouth your boob through your top. He softly bit, making your back arch and you lost control of yourself, becoming unstable on top of him.

He cursed and held your hips up, now he was the one pounding up into you at a rapid and rough pace. Everytime his pelvis met your clit, it sent waves of pleasures throughout your whole body and you felt yourself coming closer to your orgasm.

"Shit, gonna cum," he said in a whisper almost and you moaned in response. "Gonna cum soon too, baby?

- Yeah," you agreed and rubbed your clit as he continued thrusting into you. Both of your movements became sloppy and right when he was about to release, he pulled out of you and fucked his own fist until he came all over his stomach. With that vise in front of you, your orgasm hit you fast and your hips stuttered above him as he was still riding his own orgasm out.

"Fuck," you whimpered and collapsed on him. You were both panting heavily and he was now stroking your hair softly.

"Y/n, you're fucking crazy," he said and you laughed.

___

One of my fav chapters frfr

#Spotify #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #christopher bang #bang chan #bang chris

562 notes · View notes

ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

Note

consider: the 141, ale, rudy, and könig with and insomniac reader. i have horrible insomnia so i totally get the lack of sleep bit 😂

Insomnia gang rise up ❤️ (I included 141+König, I hope that’s ok!!)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

We all know how awful his insomnia is

He’ll try to help you fall asleep the same way you’ve done for him in the past, scratching your back, playing with your hair, telling you stories

“It’s not working babe.” You sigh, giving up and turning onto your back, staring up at the ceiling

He chuckles but not without a pang of guilt in his gut, “No worries then, love. D’you wanna stay in bed or get up?”

“Late night snack run maybe?” You turn onto your side to face him and look up at him with hopeful eyes, he shakes his head and rolls out of bed,

“Fine. But you only get to pick two.”

“But-”

“Two or we don’t go.” You knew you wouldn’t win and you couldn’t scramble out of bed quick enough

Sometimes you’ll stay home and watch some tv together and sometimes you’ll go out on late night adventures, whether it’s to the store or just around the block

And it’s nice, there’s little to no traffic, it’s quiet, and you get the added benefit of clinging to his arm with him keeping you as close to him as possible

Both to keep you safe and to feel your warmth

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Definitely tries to stay up with you but winds up falling asleep trying to help you get sleepy

And when the sun cracks through the blinds and his internal clock is kicking him out of bed, he feels awful seeing you wide awake right where he left you, on your side and scrolling your phone

“Didn’t sleep at all?” He asks kissing the top of your head, you let out a defeated ‘no’ and he was determined to help you fall asleep

If you were drowsy during the day, he whisks you away and tucks you into bed immediately, thinking that any sleep you can get would help you (his heart’s in the right place)

If you didn’t nap at all during the day, then he’s on top of helping you fall asleep that night. He put the blanket in the dryer for a bit to heat it up, he’s tucking you in (while staying out of the blankets to avoid falling asleep again oops), he’s got the TV on playing something quietly in the background, he’s playing with your hair, and telling you stories

When he sees your eyelids start to get heavy and you start nodding off, he slowly and methodically slides into bed next to you, careful not to jostle you awake

You instinctively slot yourself against his side, legs tangling with his as his arms wrap around your torso, he’s gently scratching your back, quietly humming a song

And then he hears soft snores coming from your mouth and he has to bite his cheek to keep from celebrating, he opts to kiss the top of your head and close his eyes, thrilled that he was successful

John Price:

I feel like he gets bouts of insomnia on occasion, it’s not often but it happens enough times for him to be prepared in case he has a restless night

Which means that he’s prepared for your insomnia

When he can feel your restlessness under the covers, he’s awake immediately and in problem solving mode

Before doing anything he asks you what you want to do, “Can’t sleep?” He chuckled a little when he sees you shake your head, “Now what should we do about that, hm?”

And depending on your answer, he’ll do exactly that. If you tell him you want to get up, he might try to convince you to stay in bed at least but he’ll relent if you’re adamant on getting up.

If you tell him you want to try to sleep but that you need help, he’s on it, no further questions needed

He’s doing the same things for that he’ll usually do for himself, tea, tv turned quiet, a familiar show or movie, a sip of scotch maybe

They don’t always work and he knows that, so when it’s not working for you either he doesn’t get frustrated and he tries to make sure you don’t either

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He just knows when you’re gonna have a rough night, this guy’s so tuned into you that he rarely needs you to tell him when you’re having a hard time getting tired or falling asleep

He’s on top of it, before bed he’s brewing a cup of sleepytime tea, he’s got a relaxing playlist playing on the speakers, he’s got the lights dimmed low and he’s got a lavender candle going

When it’s close to bed time, he’ll give you some melatonin to help you get sleepy, he’s ushering you into the shower and he’ll step in with you, massaging shampoo into your scalp and gently lathering your body

He’s keeping an eye on you the whole time to make sure you’re not too drowsy you’ll nod off under the spray of water

He’s got your comfiest pjs out and ready for you on the bed, they’re nice and toasty after being in the dryer for a short cycle

He’s scratching your back, legs tangled with yours under the cover, he’s talking to you about everything and nothing at the same time

He might nod off a little bit while trying to help you fall asleep but he wakes up and makes sure to try and stay awake until you’re actually asleep

König:

I don’t think he’s an insomniac but I feel like it’d be effortless for him to stay up with you if you’re struggling to fall asleep

He’s more indulgent but that won’t mean he won’t try to coax you into falling asleep as the night goes on

So he’ll stay up with you, maybe watch a movie or two with you, cuddle on the couch, order a late night dinner- nothing too heavy like an entire pizza, maybe a few slices but he’s stubborn in saving the rest for the next day

But he’ll indulge you nonetheless

As time ticks on he’ll make you some chamomile tea, he’s turned the volume down, and he coincidentally decided to wrap a comfy blanket around your shoulders

He’s wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest, his fingers running over your arms, he’s a humming a soft tune

You’ve caught on to his attempts at getting you sleepy and the thought alone puts such a warm smile on your face as you sigh and nuzzle into his chest

He feels your breathing slow and he dares to look down at you to see your eyelashes kissing your cheeks, mouth slightly open as light snores slip through your lips

He smiles softly and gently kisses the top of your head

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Note

Hi!! I love your imagines so much!! And I had a request if possible! Maybe f!reader and Sebastian sneak into the prefect bathroom for a bath together after a long day or something and one thing leaders to another..

My Sleep Remedy

{Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader}

AGED UP CHARACTERS, 18+ SCENARIOS (Characters are nearing the end of their 7th year and are 18+)

Word Count: ~ 5,100 words

Warnings: 18+ smut, (first time having sex, fingering, handjob, oral)

Author’s Note: Just want to say right away that I’m not a lore master on Harry Potter, I’ve only read the first book, seen the movies, and obsessed over Hogwarts Legacy. I think you need a password to get into the prefects’ bathroom but I’m going by HL rules where you can just walk in lmfaooo. Thank you for the request, anon!!! I got really into this one and had so much fun writing it. Hopefully you guys have as much fun reading it ❤ Now kick back and turn off your brain. I cleared your schedule for you, enjoy 🥰

Songs (if interested):

Spiracle - Flower Face

snowfall (Slowed + Reverb) - Øneheart, reidenshi

You’d think, after everything you had to do to catch up having come in late as a 7th year, you’d be out as soon as your head hit the pillow. Yet sleep still found a way to evade you. After tossing and turning with no signs of your eyelids growing heavier, you decided to sneak out of your dorm and wander the halls of Hogwarts once again. Maybe you could stumble upon some demiguise statues for Mr. Moon.

With the disillusionment spell coating you, you walked the halls easily, taking in all the paintings and statues. It was a shame you only had one year here, there was no way you could see the entirety of the castle in such a short time. Turning a corner, you rammed into a solid, invisible object.

The feel of hands steadied you as your rubbed at your nose. The disillusionment spell wore off for both you and Sebastian Sallow.

“Sebastian.” You said in pleasant surprise, smiling up at him. “What are you doing up?”

“Had trouble sleeping. Decided to follow your lead and go on one of these -” He waved his hand dismissively in the air, “night walks you rave so much about.” He chuckled, keeping his voice low. Of everyone he could have had insomnia with, he was happy it was you.

“Same here. Decided I might as well look for more of those demiguise statues. No idea why they bother Mr. Moon so much, I think they’re pretty adorable. Care to join me? Or did you want to be alone?”

He appreciated you asking, especially in such a way that he felt he could say ‘no’ if he needed. But he didn’t need to, or want to. “Count me in.” He smiled. “I think I spotted one in the prefects’ bathroom.”

You quirked a brow at him. “What were you doing in there?”

“Bathing, what else?”

“One of the prefects invited you to join them, did they?” You teased and he rolled his eyes, playfully shoving your shoulder.

“It’s my last year, so I figured ‘why not’? Wanted to try it at least once. And if I was caught, I’m sure people would have been happy I've moved on from the restricted section. Now come on.”

“Lead the way.”

You and Sebastian arrived at the prefects’ bathroom, cloaked in the disillusionment spell. “If I remember right, I think I saw it just over...” His eyes scanned the bathroom.

“Ah, there it is.” You strode up to it, your disillusionment spell fading. You picked it up and twirled it in your hand as you returned to Sebastian’s side. “One more down, Merlin knows how many to go.” You sighed.

He let his disillusionment fade as well, taking the moon from your hand to look it over himself. Really, he just needed a temporary distraction, every now and then he would get this terrible urge to kiss you. You never had to do anything special for the thought to pop into his head, all he could do was suffer in silence until the ache went away.

He handed the moon back to you and looked out to the bathroom. “You know, why don’t you give this bath a go? It could help you fall asleep, now that you got one less moon to worry about.”

He could see you thinking on it, clearly tempted.

“Come on, you came in late as a 7th year and you’ve been working yourself to the bone. I say you’ve earned it. It’s your only year at Hogwarts and we’re almost finished anyway. Go for it.”

“You’re such a bad influence.” You smirked at him, then scanned your eyes over the room. “This place is beautiful though, especially at night.” You thought aloud. “But what about you? If it helps you sleep, you should use it. I can come back for it another night when you’re feeling better.”

Sebastian was tempted too, this place had relaxed him in the way he needed most. It was pure tranquility. After everything that had happened that year, having that little bit of peace this place offered helped greatly. But he shook his head, “All yours tonight.”

You eyed him sadly as he looked down at his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. You’d much rather he took it. You didn’t want to part ways with him quite yet either, but maybe this was his way of saying he needed to be alone at the moment. “Alright... thank you, Sebastian. Wait, how often do the prefects come to check on this place?”

“If they hear water running, they’re not coming in here.” He reassured you. “Even if they did suspect you weren’t someone who was allowed in here, they’d at least wait until you were clothed to rat you out.”

“Makes sense.” You exhaled, looking upon the immaculate bath the size of a pond. The thought of sitting in this beautiful, moonlit room enveloped in warm water was more enticing by the second.

Sebastian could see your dreamy stare and decided it was time for him to go. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He shot you a grin as he turned to make his way out.

“Seb.” You called softly, speaking before thinking.

“Hmm?” He turned to face you easily.

“I um...” You didn’t want him to leave. Though you spent most of your days stuck together like glue, you wanted even more of him to yourself. You only had a few more weeks at Hogwarts, and then who knew where the two of you would be?

He felt as if his heart skipped a beat when he saw the look on your face, he had never seen it on you before. It wasn’t happy, it wasn’t sad. It was hopeful... and aching. He didn’t know what to make of it as he waited for you to continue. He could see your chest rising and falling, your breathing seeming to get heavier. The sight made the wait for you to speak feel like it took ages.

You cleared your throat, mustering up the courage for your next words. “Please stay.”

His insides constricted in the most volatile way. You couldn’t possibly mean you wanted to bathe together, could you? Maybe you just thought you two could put your feet in the water? Surely no nakedness involved. Oh wonderful, he was thinking of you naked even though you were only a few feet away from him. He swallowed thickly. What do I say? What do I say?

‘Yes’ seemed like the best answer. On one hand, it could be innocent and there was no need for his mind to have taken him to such a risqué place. On the other, if you did want to bathe with him, he’d be the world’s biggest blockhead if he said ‘no’.

He had fallen hard and fast for you his final year at Hogwarts. He wished, more than anything, you came in as a 1st year so you two could have made more memories together. But only one year with you was the hand he was dealt. So he’d take every second he could, no amount of time would have felt like it was enough anyhow.

After everything you had done for him, picking him back up after what happened with Anne and Solomon, keeping his friendship with Ominis in tact, and sticking by his side even though you’ve seen the worst sides of him, how could you possibly want someone like me? You were far, far too good for him.

Who was he fooling? There was no way he would have ever said ‘no’ to you.

“I'll stay.” He answered as he took a step towards you, but that was all he’d let himself do. You needed to make the next move, so he could know what you wanted from him that night. He’d give you everything and more, all you needed to do was ask.

It was hard to keep calm when the flutter in your chest felt so overwhelming. Becoming jumpy, you brought your fingers up to unclasp your robes.

His eyes went dark. Merlin’s sake, he needed to get it together. He had seen you take off your robes countless times before. And for all he knew, you’d only be taking off your shoes and tights as well.

You glanced up at him when you slipped your robes off, then went to put them at the front of the room near the large stack of towels.

Sebastian watched your hips as you passed him. Easy now, still don’t know how far you want to go with this. He darted his gaze away and shrugged off his own robes. After tossing it aside, he went to turn on the faucets to fill up the giant tub. He desperately needed to busy himself to calm his nerves.

He peeked over at you and watched, mesmerized, as you kicked off your shoes and pulled down your tights from under you skirt, slowly revealing the skin of your legs in the most tantalizing way. His breathing started to come out shallow, his lips parting slightly.

You were either stopping there or you were going to keep going. This was the point where he’d know what you wanted. And if that was how he handled himself getting a look at your legs? He probably wouldn’t be coherent if you took it further.

Tucking your tights and shoes away, you looked back at him over your shoulder. He shot his gaze away and tried to look busy with the faucets. He knew he must have had a dumb, slack-jawed look on his face.

In your head, you were even more of a wreck. You had taken off everything that could be viewed as innocent. You could stop there and spend a relaxing night speaking with Sebastian, or you could try to take him how you’ve always wanted him ever since he smirked at you in your first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

You knew he’d be a gentleman about all of this, so you’d have to make the first move in the direction you wanted to take it. The look on his face when he saw you had taken off your shoes and tights was encouraging. You glanced at him again but his focus was fully back on the faucets, not as encouraging.

You took a steadying breath, thankful the sound of the rushing water would drown it out. You mustered up every ounce of courage you had, locked the door, and turned your body so that you were facing him. This could be your only chance, it was now or never. Looking down at your shirt, you reached up and slowly began unbuttoning it. Once you got down to the button that opened your shirt enough to reveal the top of your bodice, you peeked up at him to check if he was looking.

And oh he was looking, the way he seemed to be watching you with undivided attention had the spark of a fire ignite in your core. You undid a few more buttons until you gradually stilled under the weight of his gaze, temporarily hypnotized by the way he was looking at you.

“Keep going.” He said, hypnotized himself. He could feel the blood draining from his head to go south, leaving it empty with nothing but thoughts of what more you could show him. He wanted all of you displayed before him, all to himself.

Your heartrate sped up, you hadn’t known what words you wanted to hear from him, but those were certainly an electrifying choice. You picked up where you left off and delighted in the way he kept his eyes on you. You got to the last of your buttons and slipped off your shirt, revealing your bodice and the skin of your shoulders.

He stood up straighter and faced you fully as he watched your shirt fall to the floor. Your skirt was less of a slow burn and more of a shock to his senses when it only took one undone button for it to fall as well.

He clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose like he was being tortured. It wasn’t fair, the effect you had on him. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the tub still had a ways to go filling with water, so he hoped you would help him pass the time by continuing to do what you were doing.

You kept your eyes on him, nervous, excited, and aching to show him what was under your bodice. You began undoing the buttons of your final layer. His eyes fell down to your chest, and you could see his adam's apple bob in his throat. The heat you felt in your abdomen went lower, you felt it throb in the most delicious way. That throb only swelled when you glanced down at Sebastian’s pants, his erection pressing hard against the fabric. The thought of having caused it sent a thrill through you.

When you slipped off your bodice and revealed your breasts, he made his way towards you, not allowing this space between you anymore. Keeping your eyes on him as he approached, you swiftly pulled down your underskirts. His face turned pained seeing you fully naked before him, your most sensitive area exposed to him.

He stood before you, eyes darting all over you, not sure where they wanted to feast upon more. You didn’t mind that you were naked and Sebastian wasn’t. Those hungry looks of his had been more than enough to send you over the edge.

As you witnessed his eyes ardently roaming over you, you reached up and began undoing his tie, the rise and fall of his chest speeding up. You slid his tie off and went for his buttons, undoing them one by one.

It was such an intoxicating contradiction to witness, watching you take control in such a tender way. He narrowed his eyes at you as you slipped his shirt off, fingers brushing along his skin as you did so. You met his gaze and sensed he was wordlessly begging you to release his hard length from his pants.

Your lashes curtained your eyes as you looked down to undo his belt. He dared to touch you then, his fingers grazed your hips and he dragged them lightly up the sides of your torso. He held back, because the way he wanted to grab you, he was sure he’d leave bruises. You were so soft, almost like you were the most delicate thing he had ever touched, even though he knew full well you were far from it.

You undid his pants and looked back up at him. You were still for a moment and he wondered what was going through your head. Keeping your eyes on him, you gingerly grabbed at his length. You watched with delight as he hissed a breath through his teeth and shot his gaze down to your hand on him. You stroked your thumb across his tip and he almost collapsed.

He panicked when you released him and began walking away. He watched in stunned silence as you walked down the steps into the water and then dove in. You resurfaced and swam towards the faucets, turning them all off. His pants were hanging loose on his waist, his hard length teasing out of it.

“Are you coming in?” You asked without looking at him, continuing to turn off the remaining faucets, your nipples peeking out of the water every time you reached up.

His body finally kicked in to gear. He nearly fell over as he hopped on one foot to yank off one shoe, then switched sides, just as unsteady while taking off the other. His hands were shaky and quick pulling off his socks, he threw them to the side, not caring if he ever saw them again. Once he shoved down his pants, he joined you in the water, not nearly as graceful as you and causing much more splashing.

You giggled as you swam to meet him, pulling his face into a kiss. He treaded the water as you held him close to you, relishing the feel of your mouth on his, your breasts pressing against him. The water was slick on your skin, he was half tempted to swim back and just watch you exist, naked and dripping wet. But he didn’t want to leave this position, not yet.

Your hands slid down and rested on his freckled shoulders, reveling at his hard muscles there. He pulled back from the kiss slightly, wanting to look at your face. He cupped your jaw with one hand and dragged his thumb along your skin, watching the water droplets run down. He couldn’t believe this was happening, he had been in love with you for so long, and he had you with him like this. And in the prefects’ bathroom to top it off? If this was a dream, he’d absolutely die if he woke up.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked over your features, and you couldn’t help but smile back. Every look he gave you tonight had you melting.

“I want you to touch me.” You told him.

He was sure he was dreaming then, but he’d do everything in his power to not wake up. “I’m so glad.”

He grabbed your hand under the water and pulled you along as he swam towards the tub’s edge. He rested a hand on it to keep himself afloat. “Hold onto me.” He said. You complied, placing your hands back on his shoulders. His free hand remained under water, moving to your inner thigh, his fingers dragged up to your folds. He eyed you for your reaction, you nodded your head. The two of you looked down into the water at his hand, he ran his first finger through you, taking in the feel of it all. You dug your nails into his skin, it kept his member rock hard.

He had read books on sex before, but the boring ones. The ones with lifeless illustrations, education being the main purpose. He wasn’t completely ignorant of what was between your thighs, but he couldn’t truly know until he encountered it himself.

“Right there. Move your fingers on that spot.” Your whispered feedback had his insides reeling, and he threw out his plan to take his time feeling you.

“How should I - what do I -” He was eager to please but he'd be lying if he said he knew how.

You put a hand over his and guided him towards the top of your slit. You moved his fingers in short, up and down, rubbing motions at a quick pace. You already knew how to get yourself off from alone time in the showers, and you were earnest to have him take your place. His rough, warm fingers would feel so much better.

“Like that.” You panted. “Keep touching me like that.”

He furrowed his brows and bit his lip in concentration, all his focus going to his fingers, he was going to get this right if it killed him.

You held onto him for support as he moved against you, your peak was approaching much faster with his fingers instead of yours. His eyes darted up and down, going up to your face and then back down to your need.

You brought your hands up to his head and fisted his hair, he pressed his forehead against yours, keeping up his motions. You held him to you as your climax got closer and closer, wrapping one leg around his waist underneath the water. He was especially thankful being in the water then, it helped make the two of you more weightless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold this strong other wise.

“I’m gonna - I’m -” He slammed his mouth onto yours to keep you quiet as he finished you off. Your muffled moan against his lips and your body spasming against his hand had him ravenous.

You pulled back from him to catch your breath, and you let your head fall against his shoulder. He held you close to him and rested his cheek against the top of your head. He wanted to make you feel that good all the time, wanted to be the only one who ever did.

You drifted back and put your hands on his chest. “Sit down.” You commanded, your breath still a bit uneven. You pushed him back gently through the water, towards the steps.

“Alright.” He responded, compliant and enamored. He kept his eyes on you as he swam backwards and sat, not wanting to miss a second of you.

He took a steadying breath as you settled your knees on either side of his legs, straddling him. He exhaled sharply when you gripped his length under the water, “Now tell me how to touch you.”

His brain couldn’t process your question. He was eye level with your chest and stared ahead with half-lidded eyes, the water droplets running down you were madness inducing. He couldn’t stop himself from cupping some water into his hand and smearing it across your chest to make you glisten even more in wetness.

“Seb.” You whimpered, gripping him tighter.

His glazed eyes looked up to yours. He was delirious, there was so much of you to look at and you were touching him in a place no one else had. Getting his hand to act since his mouth couldn’t, he followed your lead and guided you on what to do.

You wrapped your fingers around him and stroked up and down in the way he silently instructed. He leaned his elbows back on the steps and watched you, bewitched, as you fixated on his pleasure.

You propped one hand against his chest as your other worked up and down his shaft. “A bit faster.” He groaned. “That’s...” His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Ah that’s it.” The sound of water sloshing along with your breathing echoed throughout the prefects’ bathroom, and he was nearing his peak faster than he wanted. Quickly, he leaned forward and removed your hand from him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a slight panic, he grabbed your face and pulled you into a kiss to put you at ease.

“Nothing.” He reassured once he pulled back. He looked up at you with longing, tortured eyes and stroked your cheek. “Can I be inside you?”

Your insides set ablaze and you nodded your head. He swallowed thickly as you adjusted on top of him, positioning yourself over his length. His hands moved to your hips and he gripped tightly, looking down into the water at you two about to join.

He did everything he could to inwardly steady himself. “Right...” He breathed. “Now... When I’m about to finish, you need to uh...” Focus! He shot a hand through his wet hair quickly then placed it back on your hip. “You need to withdraw from me, alright?”

You nodded your head, just as frantic at the anticipation as he was. “I will.”

Ignoring your jittery nerves, you took him in your hand to guide his tip to your entrance. Slowly, you sunk yourself onto him, taking your time as you felt him stretch you out to fit deeper. You felt his body stiffen under you. With a throaty groan, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his forehead against your chest. You brought your hands up to the back of his head and held him close as you both breathed through it.

He wanted to be stuck in this position forever. The feel of your heat slowly enveloping him was unreal. You whimpered as you took more of him into you. He kissed the spot between your breasts, “Go slow. Go slow.” He whispered against your skin. The words were meant for him just as much as they were you.

His eyes squeezed shut briefly when you had him fully in you.

“I - I think I’m alright now.” You said, and could feel him nod against your chest.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, and leaned back a bit to look down into the water. Catching your curious gaze at what it looked like being joined together was one of the most arousing things he had ever witnessed.

You thought back to how he wanted your hand to move on him, so you gripped his shoulders and moved your heat up and down his length.

His hands moved down from your hips to your bottom, groping roughly. He leaned back enough so he could watch you bounce on him, quicker and quicker as you became more accustomed to the feel of him inside you.

He was becoming unhinged at it all. The feel of your heat gliding along him, the movement of your dripping wet breasts, your nails digging into his shoulders, and the sound of your panting breaths mixed with his. His climax was coming fast.

“Ah I’m about to - Please don’t stop.” He could hardly speak, and his vision was getting blurry. He leaned forward to bite at your skin, he didn’t care where, anywhere. You arched your back at the feel of his teeth, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You withdrew yourself from him just enough to take him in your hand and he kept his hands on your ass. You stroked him fast to finish him off, but an urge to take him in your mouth took over. You broke away from his grasp and submerged your face under the water, wrapping your mouth around him.

“W - Wait,” He breathed heavily, “What are you - o - oh...” His words melted into grunts as his head fell back and he spilled into your mouth.

When you felt he was done, you swallowed him and went back up for air. Wiping the water from your face, you saw his eyes were wide at you and he was trying to catch his breath. It was the most exhilarating sight.

He didn’t know what possessed you to put your mouth on him, but he needed to figure it out so he could ensure it possessed you next time too.

A dreamy sigh left your lips and you laid back into the water, floating contently as you looked up at the ceiling. He leaned back on his elbows and watched you, his legs too wobbly to move anywhere. It was quite the way to bring seven years at Hogwarts to a close.

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Despite the lighthearted wording, there was gravity in his delivery.

You went up straight in the water to look at him. Hiding your dopey smile, you submerged yourself until it was just your eyes peeking out at him.

Getting bashful himself, he leaned forward on his knees and rubbed at his face. “Yeah, you know.” He laughed breathily. He was all too proud seeing how flushed your cheeks were and knowing he was the cause.

You swam back to him until you were standing on the steps below him. Placing your hands on his knees, you leaned forward and kissed him. You pulled back, getting a good look at all of his freckles. “I thought it was obvious I'm in love with you too.”

He pulled you back onto his lap. Gripping your thighs, he claimed your mouth with a deeper kiss. You were both tired now. He just needed this last taste of you, this last feel of your wet skin on his before you separated.

He tore himself from you and looked into your sleepy eyes with his. “Bed?”

“Afraid so.” You sighed, getting up off his lap.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him with you out of the tub. Towels were aplenty in the prefect bathroom, and he grabbed one for you and him. As the two of you dried off, the exhaustion really kicked in. You gave each other sleepy smiles as you caught the other’s eye, trying to sneak glances as you put your uniforms back on.

He finished dressing before you did and went to help you with your last few buttons. “Stay with me in Feldcroft this summer. It’d mean the world to me if you did.”

You met his half-lidded eyes with yours, a lazy smile on your lips. “Of course, I will.”

He gave you one more lax kiss, then went to unlock the door. You picked up the demiguise moon and he opened the door for you.

“What in Merlin’s name?!” A younger prefect’s unwelcome voice knocked you two out of your magical haze.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and pushed you defensively behind him, keeping you hidden.

“Were you two in the prefects' bathroom? At the same time?! Don’t tell me you… in our bathroom!”

“I think you’re mistaken, we were just retrieving a demiguise statue for Mr. Moon, that’s all.” Sebastian grabbed the moon from your hand and walked up to the prefect, their height difference becoming very apparent when he came toe to toe and looked down his nose at him.

“B - But your hair’s wet! Both of you -”

“I’ll say it once more since it doesn’t seem like you heard me. You’re mistaken.” Sebastian repeated. “And if I hear any rumors about what you think happened, I’ll know who started them, won’t I? I only have a few weeks left here at Hogwarts, let’s see to it they go by smoothly, yeah?”

“F - Fine. Just get back to Mr. Moon straightaway and go to your dorms.”

He gave the prefect a couple solid pats on the cheek. “Attaboy.”

Grumbling, the prefect turned on his heel and left.

Sebastian returned to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and practically carrying you out of the faculty tower. “Were you trying to protect my honor back there?” You teased and could see he was biting back a cocky grin.

“I was. I could go back and scare him some more since you seem so pleased about it.”

He cackled when you smacked his arm. Sleepless nights weren’t so bad anymore.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow mature content

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mentalbreakdowngobrrrrr · 6 months

Text

Twst boys w a s/o w chronic fatigue

Chronic Fatigue is a condition where the holder is always tired no matter how much sleep they get; it often times has side affects like insomnia/low energy

Characters: Idia Shroud, Ruggie Buchhi, Leona Kingscholar, Floyd Leech, Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts

Idia Shroud

We all know this man has a crippling fear of human interaction, so the fact that he was somehow able to rizz up the prefect of Ramshackle is a miracle

Imagine his suprise when they opened up to him about their symptom.

Immediately throws himself into research trying to find any way to help.

S.T.Y.X has resources and he WILL use them to their full extent.

Sadly, there is no known cure

Instead he will make sure you know you can use his room to crash if you want some peace.

He is perfectly content to offer up his bed for you, so that you can rest in peace away from the chaos that is Ramshackle.

He will ensure that he is staying quiet when he games to make sure you're not disturbed.

Having a s/o with low energy is honestly a win in his book. Since you're almost always low energy, and he is an introvert with no social skills, both of you are happy to simply have dates where you just watch movies or play games.

He himself has terrible sleep habits, but he is not opposed to lying in bed with you on his phone if it means you will fall asleep faster.

You probably use his bed more than him tbh.

Overall a total softie and he is perfectly content with just chilling while you nap

Ruggie Buchhi

Ruggie himself is someone that rarely slows down

He's always working on a different side hustle or helping Leona

He's used to Leona, so adapting is pretty easy, except you have an actual condition, not just laziness.

Anytime you come to him tired he will offer you his bed.

Sadly, he rarely has time to just linger while you sleep.

When he does finally have the time to settle down he is the softest person known to man.

He will gladly pull you to his chest and just relax with you.

One of the few times he will refuse Leona is when he's with you.

Having an s/o who is low energy often times helps him slow down and relax a little.

Overall, he is intensely protective of making sure you get a good sleep, well the best your body will allow.

Leona Kingscholar

He is honestly hyped

Not about the fact that you never feel fully rested

but the fact that he has a s/o who will nap with him.

He himself is often times asleep at odd times

So he will gladly pull you from class (against your will most times) just to nap.

He will use you as a pillow most times; but he also will not mind if you use him as a pillow

He has a hard time understanding why you're frustrated with your condition, as he himself loves to lounge around and nap

However he will do what he can to help you.

Forcing Ruggie to get you coffee, bribing Crowley to let you out of class, he has no issue throwing money at people if it means you can be happier.

Overall; He is down to just nap most times he's with you, but if you want to try and do something he will follow along.

Floyd Leech

He has a hard time coming to terms with it

Afterall, he himself is very high energy, so having an s/o who is very low energy can get a bit frustrating at times.

He is childish, and will often times get pouty when all you have the energy to do is sleep.

However, he loves you anyways.

When you are awake and have enough energy, he is happily dragging you around to engage in various shenanigans.

Whenever he works, he likes having you nap in the break room, so he can come in and admire you during his breaks.

Azul has no qualms with this, as it keeps Floyd motivated, and loosing a bit of space to keep Floyd content is something he doesn't mind.

When Floyd gets pouty, he will come to you seeking cuddles.

His cuddles are intense. I'm talking legs and arms fully wrapped around you, keeping you captive.

In the short moments he is calm, he enjoys cuddling while you doze off in his arms.

Overall; not the best at handling it, but he means well.

Malleus Draconia

A human feeling comfortable enough to sleep around him?

How bold

Considering he met you late a night outside your dorm, he was aware of your bad sleeping habits.

He didn't understand until you explained it to him.

You didn't choose to be up late at night; nor did you choose to take naps during the day.

Upon finding out it was a medical condition, he will try and find a cure using magic.

Of course, he finds nothing.

However, Silver is one of his retainers, so he is familiar with people falling asleep around him.

Anytime you so much a mention being tired, he has scooped you up in his arms and is teleporting to his room where he lays you in his bed and tucks you in, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead

He is so happy to have someone who isn't afraid of him and he will drop whatever he is doing most times if you ask for cuddles.

Overall; Incredibly sweet and attentive,

Lilia Vanrouge

He has raised Silver his whole life

Safe to say, he is good at handling this.

Will always make sure you have a safe place to nap.

Has a weird sixth sense that lets him know when you are starting to get tired.

Will also drop what he is doing to ensure you get to a bed or couch

Will threaten people to leave you alone and let you rest.

When he isn't busy taking care of Diasomnia, he will gladly cuddle up to you and run his fingers through your hair.

Overall; Handles it very well and is very caring and attentive

Cater Diamond

Another person that rarely slows down

He is very high energy most days

However, he will gladly let you nap in his bed while he scrolls magicam.

Thinks your sleeping face is adorable

Takes lots of photos

Don't worry, he won't post them unless you say it's okay.

Enjoys relaxing with you after a long day

He is BIG on cuddles.

Claims he will help you wake up more rested

It doesn't but it's the thought that counts.

Overall; struggles a bit but learns to adapt over time

Riddle Rosehearts

At first he is pissed.

After all, napping violates one of the rules.

When you explain to him that it's a medical condition, he eases up

Still is a bit annoyed; but knowing that you're not purposely trying to break the rules calms him down

He will do his best to encourage you to push through and stay awake during the day; but if you can't he will let you rest

After all, you look so cute snuggled in his bed asleep.

He will use the time you're asleep to study while watching over you making sure no one disturbs you.

Has collared Ace and Deuce for waking you up before.

Considers adding a new rule saying that waking you up is against the rules.

Overall; You're one of the few people he will let the rules slip for. Still expects you to follow them when you can though.

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redskull199987 · 6 months

Note

i have two so I'll probably send them separately, but at the same time I feel like that would be a lot of notifications (also fem reader please); #1 is giving mike schmidt head under his desk while he's at work and stuff , #2 is like playing with mike's hair and stuff to help him sleep and cuddling with him , and #3 is mike bending reader over his desk and going to down because he's had a pretty bad shift and needs to relieve stress. you can just do one or all, it's up to you

First of all, this is only one of these three requsts, the second one to be precise. The others will follow of course, don't worry. Until then, I hope that you enjoy this one. I had lots of fun writing this:D

So hear my Voice, remind you not to bleed

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:1.3k Warnings:tooth rotting fluff,kissing and hugging, that’s all, slight movie spoilers Summary:You knew that your Boyfriend had trouble falling asleep, so you did everything you could to help him find his way into sweet sweet dreamland…

Masterlist

You felt like shit. At least, that was the short version. And the longer one wasn't even that much longer. To put it simply, you had an awfully long week. And that was probably an underestimation.

You fought murderous animatronics, a creepy dude in a bunny costume, a feral cupcake and after all that shit, you barely escaped with your life. And while you were fortunate and had only obtained a few minor scratches and bruises here and there, Mike had a few life threatening flesh wounds and Vannesa was lucky to be alive at all, after her father had stabbed her.

Your Bones ached and your head was pounding, as you finally made your way home. Unfortunately, you couldn’t just ask your Boss to give you a few days off because you had several Animatronic-induced wounds scattered over your body. Heck, you were happy you didn’t just lose your job after not showing up for three days in a row.

All you could do was tell them that you got involved in a car accident and that you and your boyfriend had been in the hospital for a few days. Much to your favor, they believed you and the fact that Vanessa was still in the Hospital only backed up your little lie.

Your Mind was still racing, as you reached your little Home. It was already dark outside, as you stepped into the comfort of your Apartment. You saw Lights coming from the Living Room and the Sound of the TV slowly made its way into your Brain and pushed away the gruesome memories of the Pizza-Plex.

“Mike?”, You shouted into the darkness,”Abby? I’m Home.”

You didn’t receive an answer, so you quickly discarded your shoes and Jacket and walked into the Living Room. Only now, you noticed Abby sitting in front of the Sofa, drawing with her Crayons and listening to the sound of the TV.

“Hey Abbs.”, You smiled and leaned down to greet the little Girl. She practically beamed at you and gave you a small hug.

“Have You eaten yet? Where’s Mike?”, You quickly asked again as you rose back to your feet.

“Yes, we had Spaghetti with meatballs.”, Abby stated happily,”And Mike said he was tired and went to sleep already. He told me I could stay up for a little bit longer:”

“Okay then.”, You mumbled, gently running a hand through Abby’s Hair,”I’ll go join your Brother in Bed. Don’t stay up too late, okay Love?”

Abby nodded at you profusely before turning her focus back on the Half finished Drawing in front of her. You looked at her once more, before deciding to finally go see your Boyfriend in your shared bedroom. You knew that he was always tired. Even before you started dating. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

But after recent events, his insomnia seemed to get severely worse. He could barely fall asleep anymore and even if he did, he’d be awake again a few hours later, jumping up with heavy breaths and a sweaty forehead. You always tried to comfort him and be there for him, but you still felt like you weren’t doing enough. Like, you should do more. But you didn’t know how.

With a sigh, You slowly pushed your bedroom door open. You were surprised as you realized that the lights were still on and Mike was sitting in the middle of the Bed, still fully dressed.

“Mike?”, You asked with furrowed brows,”Are You okay, my Love?”

He didn’t answer you at first. Only as you got closer and sat down next to him, he looked at you.

“S-Sorry, must’ve been lost in my thoughts again. I didn’t notice you coming in.”, Mike explained. His voice was raspy and tired. With a soft smile, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly:”It’s okay, don’t worry. You wanna go to sleep?”

Mike only gave you a nod and got up to change into his sleeping attire,which consisted of a Shirt and some sweatpants. You quickly followed him over to the wardrobe and before he could pull off his hoodie, you carefully hugged him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love You.”, you uttered against his skin. You could see how the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and the shiver that went down his spine.

“I love you too.”, Mike answered, taking a hold of your hands and turning around in your embrace. For the first time today he gave you a smile. A lazy one, but you saw that it was genuine. You quickly leaned forward, planting a kiss on his cheek, before you connected your lips with his in a tender kiss. You felt his hands wander to your waist and he pulled you closer. Warmth radiated off of his Body, while his lips worked against your own in passion.

As you finally parted due to the lack of oxygen, both Mike and you were panting against each other's lips. It was quiet for a few minutes and no one said anything, while the two of you just enjoyed each other's company.

But then you reached for the hem of his hoodie and as Mike realized what your plan was, he obediently raised his arms, so that you could pull the hoodie off of his body. After you let the Hoodie fall to the Floor, Mike grabbed the Hem of your sweater and the two of you repeated the whole action, but with your roles reversed this time.

It didn’t take long, until you were both in your sleeping attires after you lazily helped changing each other.

With a drowsy smile, You grabbed Mike’s hand and pulled him back towards the bed. You had of course noticed that his expression wasn’t really the happiest, as he was afraid of having nightmares again. He had told you about them. It was always the same. He saw Abby, Vanessa or You getting stabbed by William Afton and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t move or scream. He just had to witness it.

“Come here.”, You mumbled and held out your hand as you saw that Mike was hesitating to lay down. His gaze wandered from the sheets to your face and it seemed like the soft smile you gave him did the trick on him. He gently grabbed your hand and let himself be pulled down by you. As his head was laying comfortably in the crook of your neck and your hands were slowly brushing through his hair, Mike let out a deep sigh.

“It’s okay. I’m here with you, Mike.”, You mumbled into his ear. You felt how his arms slung around your waist, pulling you closer.

“I know.”, Mike muttered under his breath,”You’re here.”

He took a deep breath in again, before you finally felt his body relax against yours. You quickly grabbed the blanket, pulling it over the two of you.

“Just concentrate on my voice.”, you said, soothingly rubbing his back with one hand, while the other still brushed through his hair to calm him down,“Listen to my voice. You’re not alone. I’m here with you.”,

“You’re here with me.”, Mike repeated quietly. You only nodded and continued to mumble sweet nothings into his ear. And within Minutes, you felt his grip on you loosen ever so slightly, while his breath became more even.

With a soft smile, You kissed the crown of his head once more, before also letting your eyes fall shut. If Mike could sleep, you could sleep too. And if he woke up, You would wake up too, no matter what.

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subwaysurf45 · 1 year

Text

The Art of Sleep

Summary: Bucky Barnes was known to be reackless with his health, especially when it comes to his sleep. Doing the bare minimum as a girlfriend you knew you had to make sure he was sleeping for midterms. Bucky couldn’t disagree more.

Words: 5k

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, Bucky being an asshole for a while, edging breakups, insomnia, stress of midterms.

Masterlist

It was pretty late and you were sitting alone in your bed, an empty bowl of popcorn beside you as the credits of your favourite movie rolled. You wiped your tears , gets me everytime and found your phone that was sitting, plugged in, on the small nightstand you found on the edge of someone’s yard, they had been trying to throw it out.

You took your phone over to your bathroom, looking through the few notifications to see if Bucky had texted you. You two definitely had your cheesy goodmorning or goodnight texts regularly but since it was nearing midterms you wanted to make sure Bucky was getting enough sleep and actually going to bed - he had a habit of staying up really late. You could tell when he was lying about getting some rest, the bags under his eyes betrayed him as he pleaded to you he didn’t sleep at his desk last night.

It was always a problem but it became a real issue last semester when he dozed off on a date. You had left to go to the washroom before leaving and ended up taking longer than needed as you went into a stall without toilet paper. You texted him to come in and help but he never responded, so you waited until everyone left before quickly scurrying to the next stall.

When you walked out his chin was tucked into his chest and he was sleeping, he looked homeless with his stubble, messy hair, deflated face, and just a sad look in his eyes. It physically pained you in many ways as you became his human crutch, getting him to the car and having to drive his stick-shift because he was way too tired to operate a vehicle.

YOU: hey honey, just thinking about you and wanted to say goodnight, I hope you get some good sleep

The toothbrush vibrated in your hand as you brushed your teeth, phone still in your hand as you waited for a text back. Not in the sense that you wanted the immediate reassurance or that you expected for him to be waiting hand and foot for you, you just wanted to know if he was nearing sleep. He’d be honest in his texts, sometimes saying he was nowhere near ready to head to bed and there was nothing you could do to force him.

After brushing for a while and getting no response you tried again, deep down you were a little worried. Being optimistic was extremely hard because of past patterns, you’d be the dumbest person alive to think that he was sleeping and would see your text in the morning. No, that’s not Bucky.

YOU: hey baby, me again, just want to make sure you’re all good - I’m heading to bed soon and just want to know if you’re in bed, your desk, the library, out getting food. Let me know!

Beginning to grow was the icky feeling, as you tried to think of something positive you could feel your gut telling you a different story. Still in your bathroom you looked in the mirror, looking at yourself as you took a deep breath in and out.

“Don’t be a crazy girlfriend,” you whispered, “don’t be crazy, be logical,” your hands fiddled with the loose tank top you wore to bed, “he’s probably just sitting at his desk dialed in, like always.” you nodded at your reflection and glanced at the time, there was a pattern with his sleep habits and right now he should be in his room, but he would have answered if he was at his desk.

As you tried not to be crazy you pulled out your phone again and called Bucky, getting to voicemail and not even bothering to leave a message. The next best option was to call Bucky’s roommate, Steve, it was the least crazy option than a hunt down mission.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice cut in after the third ring.

You sighed, “hey, Steve - look I know it’s late so I’ll cut to the chase,” you sat on the edge of your bed, “is there anyway you could see if Bucky’s in his room, he hasn’t been sleeping lately and I just want to know if he’s getting enough sleep or if he’s sleeping at his desk because that causes this massive knot on his shoulder which then-”

“Yeah, I’ll go check,” Steve grunted as he most likely stood up. You waited with your hand over your mouth, aware of your rambling now. “He’s not there.”

That pit in your stomach began to grow, “do you know where he is?”

“He’s normally calling his mom right now,” Steve said, “we’ve been having internet issues off and on but he doesn’t miss his call with his mom, you know how he is with his Ma.” Steve paused, “even if it wasn’t skype, he'd be phoning her right now.”

“I’ll call his mom,” you offered, “that won’t make me seem crazy right?”

Steve paused for a second, “I mean…” you could hear him scratch his head, “in this particular situation- no -you’re no crazy because he’s been a zombie these last few days, like, no sleep or food or anything,” Steve took a moment again, “it’s kinda sad to see your best friend slip away for one month each semester, he’s lost weight and just looks like a shell of himself. I’m just rambling, I’ll let you call his mother, let me know when you find him.”

“I’ll take him back to my apartment, go to bed and I’ll text you so you can see in the morning,” you and Steve said goodbyes before hanging up, leaving you to wonder where he was.

Calling Winnie made you look desperate, you knew that, but the fact that Steve didn’t know where Bucky currently is is a massive problem. With his altered state you knew he shouldn’t be driving but that could be where he is for all you know.

Winnie picked up faster than Steve, “hello?” she sounded more urgent, “what’s going on?”

You were confused for a second, “hey, Winnie,” you smiled so she could hear your happiness, “I was just wondering if Bucky skyped you earlier today?”

“N-no,” her voice shook, “I’ve been trying to call him but he’s not answering at all, I was about to call you to see where he was - can you find him?”

“Not yet,” you dropped your head into your hand, “I’m really worried and Steve doesn’t even know where he is, he’s never this silent.”

“No he’s not,” Winnie quickly replied, “this isn’t good, this mother instinct or whatever it’s called is not looking too good. If I was closer I’d be breaking into every library trying to find him. Last week he was telling me about these papers and practice quizzes he needed to do.”

“Yeah he told me about those too,” you sighed as you looked into your washroom, staring off into space. “It’s just that he normally responds, especially to a phone call.”

“I know,” Winnie seemed distraught, “he’s not doing too well right now, he always gets in his head around this time. He-�� she took a shaky breath, “he’s my little boy and he’s losing his mind over midterms and tests and I just want to give him a hug, it’s hard to listen and see him cry to you every week or couple of days, I can’t give him a hug.”

“I know,” you nodded to yourself, “I’ll find him, alright?”

“Keep me updated, please,” she pleaded.

After you hung up the only place you knew you had to go was the library. The issue was there were multiple libraries, with different private rooms, and different floors. It would take all night to find him if you checked everywhere, you knew his favourite libraries but they had their perks and their cons.

As you walked onto campus you saw a few kids walking around, leaving the facilities and heading home for the night. The moment you walked into the library you were met with the most deafening silence you’ve ever experienced, no one even looked up as you walked around. You checked desks and study rooms, interpreting groups or people just wanting a more secluded space.

The few people who looked up gave you dirty looks, not understanding why you were aimlessly walking around and not finding a spot to begin studying. Being as quiet as possible, you looked around, even going into the men’s washrooms in case Bucky fell asleep on the toilet; nothing could be ruled out.

It was no luck, you began your walk to another library. As you walked you texted Steve and Winnie, keeping them updated. You looked around Bucky’s contact information to see if you could get his location on your phone but he had that turned off, one of Winnie’s rules, but you also wanted to see if he was active on any social media recently.

Instagram had nothing, so did his Snapchat, his messages didn’t have his location so you were at a loss. Finally you opened TikTok, maybe there was a location setting on there he forgot to turn off, you scrolled for a while to see if he had commented on anything or reposted something. Nothing, it was like he had vanished.

Before closing the app you reached your school’s cringy TikTok page, they had just posted something and you decided to watch. You were just walking and Bucky had half a brain to know not to sleep in an alleyway, you needed something to keep you motivated. The video was about studying for midterms and the library having different perks.

“You’re kidding me,” you watched the video again, having to listen to these annoying student body members speak. Looking closely you saw kids sleeping around the library as they recorded, they were in the background. “If he’s sleeping…” you trailed off as you watched.

That stupid mustard colour windbreak stuck out like a sore thumb.

Bucky was curled in the corner of a bookcase with his windbreaker being used as a blanket, his bag was his pillow as he peacefully slept while these kids showed off the white noise speakers used in this section of the library. No wonder he fell asleep, white noise knocks that grandpa out like nothing else.

“Bucky, I swear…” you clenched your jaw and opened the library door, you knew exactly where he was. As you reached the third story and into the white noise area you saw the jacket. Very slowly, you approached him and kneeled down, seeing his peaceful face as he curled up into himself. “Bucky-Bear, wake up,” you whispered and jostled him around, “wake up.”

“I’m almost done with the question…” he muttered and your heart broke, “...just…”

“Honey,” you shook him a little harder, making him actually open his eyes. He looked around for a while before locking eyes with you, “hi,” you smiled, “it’s home time now, okay?”

“Home time?” He was like a toddler when he was overtiered or just waking up, it seemed he was both right now. “I can’t, I have another-” he broke off into a yawn before leaning into your side, feeling your warmth as you rubbed both shoulders.

“We’re going to my place,” you threw his arm around you and helped him stand, “this is getting out of control.”

The walk to your place was silent, Bucky stayed silent as you grumbled about having to be his human crutch again. He knew you had been on him recently about getting a good sleep and here he was, sleeping in the library with his backpack as his pillow. Every so often he’d look down at you and see your stern face, just trying to get him home.

“I’m sorry,” he offered as you both waited in the elevator.

“Your mother was worried sick,” you said as the doors opened, “so was I, so was Steve- and Steve doesn’t worry about anything and yet he was worried about you,” you lugged Bucky out and towards your door.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say again.

“Well I don’t think you are,” Bucky stood on his own as you unlocked the door, “I think you don’t care at all, you’re just saying sorry because you feel it’s appropriate for this situation,” you spoke harshly and Bucky looked offended, “because if you really were sorry, this wouldn’t be happening, this isn’t the first time,” you opened the door for him, “and if you really were sorry this wouldn’t happen again- we both know that’s dumb to even think that, right?”

Blowing right past him and into your apartment left him stunned, Bucky slowly walked in. He was still waking up and not at all ready for an argument. He didn’t even know what day it was and here you were scrambling around the kitchen trying to get him some food, he just stood there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You scoffed, “I’m fucking sick of hearing that,” you turned around to face him, “you’re not actually sorry at all, at all.” you worked on the sandwich and Bucky slowly sat down, walking on eggshells around you. After pressing the bread together you almost threw the plate in front of him, but you slid it, “call your mom, you missed her skype call.”

“What day is it?” he asked but you walked right past him, “y/n?”

“Look at your phone,” you called over your shoulder, “and while you’re at it, check all the missed calls you got, all the texts, and the worried messages from the people who love you and hate to see you like this,” you placed your hand on the doorknob, “the only reason I’m offering my bed is because I have a feeling you haven’t slept on a real bed in many nights, if that wasn’t the case you’d be on the couch.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “I’ll be there in a second.”

You could hear talking on the other side of the door, it was obvious Bucky had called his mom because of his little to no talking. The only thing he was saying was apologies, getting cut off and most likely berated for how reckless he was. You laid on your bed and reflected on how bad he was getting, sunken eyes and unkempt facial hair; he was not the kid you met at the bar with his stupid smirk. He was a completely different person, it happened every midterm and exam season.

On the edge of sleep the door creaked open, Bucky was slowly making his way to the bed as he took off his clothes and stayed in his boxers. The bed dipped and you felt him get comfortable, you had rolled onto your side by now, curled up and trying to fall asleep.

From his little twitches you knew he was awake, his breathing was steady but not deep enough for him to be asleep. He was on his back and you knew he normally slept on his stomach, he wasn’t even trying to make it seem like he was trying to get some shut eye for you. Waiting for him to do something, nothing happened.

“Hey,” his voice caused your heart to jump, “I’ll be up and out early in the morning.”

“What if I want you to stay for a day?” your finger began to play with one another, you were nervous to talk to your own boyfriend.

“I-” he sighed, “I won’t really be here, I’ll be thinking about my work tomorrow and that’s not fair to you.”

“A lot isn’t fair right now,” you quickly jabbed back.

“Alright,” he sighed, annoyed, rolling so his back was to you, “I’m going to sleep.”

“Good.”

After a moment had passed Bucky ripped the sheets off of him and stood up, making his way to the door. You quickly sat up as well, letting the sheets pool at your waist, “where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” he threw open the door and slammed it shut, leaving you alone.

“The hell you are,” you muttered and stood up, reaching for the door and whipping it open. You saw him already making his bed with a throw pillow and blanket you always had resting on the back of the couch, “you’re really going to get petty now?” you walked over to the couch with crossed arms, “you’re a fucking child.”

“Maybe I am,” Bucky said as he slipped under the faux fur blanket, “but I’m not sleeping in your bed when I can feel you wanting to rip my head off.”

“I don’t want to rip your head off,” you threw your arms out to the side, letting them slap against your thighs, “you’re too sleep deprived, malnourished, fucking stupid to see what I actually want to do to your head is twist it on right!” you could see his confusion, “I want to make you think straight and see how you’re slowly decomposing right in front of me- during that study session you just took out of, how much did you actually obtain?”

All Bucky did was sit up and clench his jaw, balling up the blanket in his fists.

“Nothing,” you filled in the blank for him, “fucking nothing for what?!” you leaned forward, “you’re not actually learning anything, this doesn’t work and I hate to see you like this all the time it feels like-” you run your hands down your face, “I have to worry about myself and take care of myself while I also take care of you because you seem to put no effort into actually taking care of yourself- when was your last shower? Last proper meal? Last piece of fruit you ate? Huh?”

Bucky was getting increasingly more angry, the redness crawling up his neck as the veins began to push against his skin. You could tell he had an arsenal of things to say to you, things to get under your skin and say just to hurt you but he held back, just staring at you. As you stared at him you could feel the anger like a radiator, you were surprised steam wasn’t blowing out of his ears.

“I don’t need you to babysit me,” he snapped.

“Then who will?” you cocked your head, “who’s gonna make sure you eat and sleep and shower, huh?”

“Me,” Bucky stood up from the couch, “on my own terms.”

“Your own terms is your fancy way of saying never, and you know that,” you crossed your arms, letting couch divide you, “this isn’t good for you, I know deep down you agree with what I’m saying.” Bucky just rolled his eyes, “I can’t be there for you all the time to make sure you’re okay-”

“Then don’t be there!” he screamed, “then don’t fucking be there and dump my ass, why haven’t you thought of that?!” You coward into yourself, feeling repulsed at what he was saying, “if you really, really hate how I handle myself then fucking leave me- I don’t need you to take care of me-”

“-Bucky-”

“In fact,” he paused for a moment, thinking about the words that were sitting on the end of his tongue, ready to leap out and stab you in the heart. “I don’t fucking need you at all.”

“Get out,” you felt your eyes water, “get the fuck out,” you pointed to the door, “and fuck you for somehow making me the bad guy for just trying to make sure you were okay- being a good girlfriend and making sure the guy she loves-” he began to walk to your bedroom, you followed, “-is taking care of himself.”

Bucky began putting on his clothes, not listening to anything you were saying. You kept talking, following him to your front door, trying to plead with him to stay as you also told him your point of view. Right before he was about to leave he turned around, “you’re a fucking leach, you know that right?”

He slammed the door in your face, leaving you crying at your front door. Wondering if you had left him in the library…no, you couldn’t think about that now.

********

Waking up the next morning left you feeling almost more tired, you laid on your back and took in what had just happened last night. What it meant for your relationship, the things he said to hurt you. Am I a leach? Am I too clingy? Was I really overstepping?

These answers could only come from Bucky because your biased opinion made you think you did nothing wrong, but if he stormed out like that then you must have done something to provoke him. Seeing if Bucky had sent you anything, you opened your phone to see a reminder sitting at the bottom: Bucky had a midterm today.

YOU: Hey love, I know things got crazy last night but I just wanted to wish you good luck on your midterm, I know you’ll do great!

After a moment you watched to see if he’d respond right away, a bad habit that you were beginning to form. A moment passed and there was no answer, the midterm was later in the afternoon so he might be sleeping in. Part of you found that more comforting, the delayed viewing from Bucky made you reach out less nerve wracking.

YOU: if you need a ride there or back from your midterm let me know, I was hoping to talk today about what happened but I don’t want that to affect anything today, just forget about it right now and ace that midterm!

Bucky never responded but you didn’t expect him to. You knew he was fully captivated by his midterm and you were not about to throw him off, testing for him caused a lot of anxiety and the last thing you wanted was to throw a wrench into his worries

Not having a midterm today, you took the time to study at the library. You were planning on staying there for a while, having some snacks and lots of water to support your big study day. In your little corner spot you began to work tirelessly on your notes, while also keeping your eye on the time for when Bucky was done his midterm.

Time did escape you for a while, your noise cancelling headphones keeping you in the zone. The only reason you saw Bucky’s text was when they appeared on your computer screen, they had gone to your phone but you weren’t paying attention to that at all.

BUCKY: Hey, love, done my midterm and I’d really like it if you picked me up. I think a conversation would also be great, I just want to apologize.

You couldn’t help the pout that formed on your lips. Though you wanted to hear him out and really lay it into him that his words hurt you could just tell he was feeling remorse, Bucky was never the type of guy to come after you; he just slipped up sometimes.

Thankfully your studying schedule had given you a break right when you needed to leave, so you packed everything up and headed over to the gymnasium to pick Bucky up. This midterm overlapped with other degrees so they needed a large space for everyone to write, lots of kids were already heading out while you waited in your car.

You leaned forward to try to get a good picture of him as he walked out of the building but he was taking a long time, instead of leaning you got out and rested against the hood of your car. Kids were leaving and walking right past you, Bucky had texted you he was done a few minutes ago and it didn’t make sense he was taking this long to leave.

Once you saw the door open again you saw Bucky walk down the steps, a soft gasp left your lips when your eyes flew to the flowers in his hands. He was halfway down the steps when you finally made eye contact with him, only then did you see his bloodshot eyes.

“Oh,” you cooed and ran up to him, accepting his bone crushing hug as he sobbed into your shoulder. “Bucky,” you sighed and brushed his hair back, you could feel the flowers press against the back of your head as he held you as tight as possible.

“I’m such an ass and an idiot,” he cried, “I can’t bealive I said those things- I don’t know who I was last night but holy fuck I’m so sorry,” his fists balled up your sweater.

Quickly, you led him to your car, helping him into the passenger seat. The two of you sat there for a while, Bucky just held both your hands in his own as he cried. His apologies came out strangled, like the sorrow was choking him.

“What hurt you the most?” he looked up and tear tracks were painting his face, “I need to know how badly I hurt you.”

You sighed and looked out the windshield, “you called me a leach, Bucky.”

His jaw was so clenched you could hear his teeth crack, “fuck,” he gritted out, “baby-” he scratched his stubble, “y/n, you have no idea how much I didn’t mean that at all. I don’t think you are a leach or too clingy or anything but perfect,” he looked over at you, “I just wanted to say something to make you go away even though you were right, I did need you to pull me out and I-...” he sighed and squeezed both your hands, “I get if you want time to yourself or you want to break up because of what I said- baby, I totally get it because what I said was just plain rude-”

“-Bucky,” you reached up and cupped his cheek.

“Let me finish, baby,” he sighed, “you were so right and I’m still not fully back from where I was, I do need you and the fact that I had people worrying about me showed how far off the deep end I was. You were the only one who called me out,” Bucky took a moment, “and because of that I resented you for that moment, but I know now that what you did was the best thing that happened for me. If you want to stay with me or not.”

You shook your head and took the flowers that were on his lap, “are these for me?”

Bucky nodded, a new wave of tears forming, “I bought them on the way here because I just- I couldn’t think straight.”

You stared at the flowers and occasionally looked up at Bucky. His eyes were swimming with sorrow as he waited for you to say something, maybe he wouldn’t get better and would keep doing this to himself. Or maybe he did see this as a wake up call, he’d never looked this upset before.

“I forgive you,” you whispered.

The dam had opened up. In an instant Bucky was sobbing uncontrollably, thanking you. He leaned over the center console as he promised to never do that again, holding you tight to his body because he was afraid to let you slip again. You could feel his relief as he dug his nose into your neck and breathed in your scent, something that always made him calm. Your nails raked up his back and into his hair, trying to get him to calm down and stop apologizing.

When you had somehow lugged him into his room he collapsed onto the bed as he brought you down with him. You rolled him on his stomach and began to work the knots, you felt during the hug, with your fingers. It took him a moment to realize what you were doing but soon he was groaning as you worked through all the stress kinks in his back and shoulders.

After a while you rolled down beside him, letting him wrap himself around you. You could feel his steady heartbeat and breathing, his hands spread wide on your body to feel as much as you as possible.

“I’m so tired,” he slurred.

“You’re getting a minimum of twelve hours,” you whispered, “and I’m not fighting you on that.”

“I’m never fighting with you again,” he scooched closer, “you’re always right and I’m always too zombified to understand anything.” You just giggled and leaned into him more, intertwining your legs with his as well. There wasn’t a body part that wasn’t touching Bucky. “My mom says hi by the way,” he kissed your forehead.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he made you look up at him, “she says you’re the best thing that happened to me, I thought you’d want to know because I fully agree.” You hummed as you fell asleep, the warmth and the love was the perfect drug to knock you out. As you edged towards sleep you heard a deep rumble from Bucky’s chest. “Fuck,” he whispered, “I’m never getting that close to loosing you again.”

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