#I really hope you all like it! I tried a few new things with it. I was trying to scratch a very specific itch!

[sirfrogsworth]

So, I did know the basic psychology of this. Or I have a good guess at least. But I was too tired and just needed a way to end the post quickly. I am running on fumes nearly all the time and sometimes I just do whatever I need so I can publish something and feel like I accomplished a goal.

But a few people are having issues with what I said.

They mentioned that autistic folks find comfort in repetition and feel like I am calling that sad. I definitely see that as a possible interpretation and I appreciate them mentioning feeling that way.

But I just wanted to use a little bit of energy to address why I don't think I was referring to these normal, healthy coping mechanisms. I mentioned in a reply that my father actually needed to watch the same show over and over because he was too sick to concentrate on something unfamiliar. I get why it can be helpful.

Firstly, I don't know many autistic people who trap everyone they know at a party and play the same 12 songs over and over.

By and large, that aspect was what I found most sad.

But aside from that, I see this repetitive behavior as a very different thing.

In fact, I would say it isn't the behavior itself... it is the *reason* for the behavior.

I see Trump's repetitive behavior more as living in the past, stuck in his ways, being stubborn, and unwilling to try new things. Something I see a lot with elderly conservative folks. They yearn for a better time in the past when they forgot all of the shitty things and only remember happy times. They say music was better in the good old days and refuse to consider any good music could be created outside of that golden age.

Trump is stuck in the 80s and 90s. He was young and healthy and grabbing pussy and fucking models (with and without consent) and going to parties of important people. He was invited to celebrity weddings and was literally Regis Philbin's best friend. Society generally liked him. He was just the goofy rich guy with the hair and many of us thought he was really good at business. Something enhanced by The Apprentice which was heavily edited to make him seem like a business genius. He likes people thinking he is good at business more than he likes being president.

I actually think he hates being president and only ran this time to stay out of jail.

Trump is not well liked as he used to be. No matter how many cult members love and praise him, he remains deeply unhappy. His wife refuses to touch or even kiss him in public. She does this little hand escape thing every time he tries to hold her hand. And when he tries to kiss her she makes him do that French thing where he has to kiss the air near her head.

Every one of his current "friends" is just playing the game. They are hoping their fealty will help them climb the ladder. I doubt he has a single genuine friend left. Except maybe Rudy Guiliani, who turned into a fucking nutball.

He was traumatized from being inches away from death and I think that was the real reason he moved his inauguration inside. A life long New Yorker is pretty well adapted to the cold.

He probably has erectile dysfunction. He is said to need a diaper. People say he smells really bad. Getting old sucks for everyone, but it is devastating to a narcissist of Trump's caliber.

Trump is in a psychological prison of unhappiness and all he has left is his rallies and his parties where he tries to trigger memories of better times. He has the world's thickest nostalgia glasses.

Why do you think he says "Make America Great AGAIN"?

He says he is going to restore the US to its "former glory."

Almost every personal and political goal of his is based on restoring how things used to be. Which is why he so easily fit into the regressive Republican party despite being a New York Democrat for most of his life.

Trump has elderly nostalgia brain and he is stuck in a loop. He is desperately trying to recreate his glory days.

I get why people had an issue with the caption. And I should have waited until I had more energy to clarify.

In the end, this man is stuck in his ways and stupendously uncurious of new things.

And those are terrible traits for a president.

[luvismenu]

stream #04 — underwater

(smau + written chap) ,, pause or play ,, JJK — series m.list

warnings: wet. like, literally wet. cutie moments, flashbacks.

“alright, chat, see you in the next stream,” jungkook says with a grin, waving at the camera before ending the stream.

as soon as the stream is off, you start helping him clean up while he grabs a towel to dry himself off.

you were a little worried when he told you he’d be streaming in his pool today. showing tricks and swimming around sounded fun, but you couldn’t help but stress about how long his streams usually last—being underwater for extended periods couldn’t be good for him. thankfully, though, he wrapped it up earlier than usual.

you’re glad he’s more aware of himself.

“the weather was perfect today, wasn’t it? made for a great stream,” he says cheerfully, shaking his head, water droplets scattering everywhere.

you laugh softly as you carefully walk over, mindful of the slippery, wet floor. “here, let me help,” you say, reaching for his towel.

he lowers his head for you with a little smile, letting you dry his hair.

you’re in your usual clothes, a white shirt and jeans and he’s just in his swim shorts, but this isn’t anything new— you’ve seen him like this plenty of times before.

but for jungkook, this feels different.

his heart is pounding. every time he tries to show you his manly side (as he calls it) it’s like his thoughts spiral. he knows he’s doing too much, but he can’t help it. he just hopes you’ll see him differently… feel something, anything, for him.

“jji…” he mutters softly, barely audible.

you pause, your hands still in his hair, but you don’t pull away. “what is it?” you ask, your voice equally soft as you meet his gaze.

he tilts his head up, slowly straightening to his full height, towering over you now. your hands lower slightly, following the movement of his head, and you notice him reach for your wrist, holding it gently.

you blink, a little confused. “what?” you whisper, the proximity making your heart skip slightly.

he swallows, his eyes searching yours nervously.

“you look pretty,” he finally says, his voice quiet but steady.

your breath catches, and you stare at him, processing his words.

“huh?” you reply, caught off guard.

compliments from jungkook aren’t unusual. he’s always been sweet. but this… this feels different. his tone, the look in his eyes, the way he’s standing so close— it all feels heavier, more meaningful. you can feel your face heat up, and for a second, you can’t seem to find the right words.

his lips twitch into a slight smile when he sees you blinking rapidly, clearly caught off guard.

“i said you look pretty,” he repeats, voice quieter this time as he gently lowers your hand, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“oh. thanks,” you murmur, clearing your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. “lunch?” you quickly ask, hoping to steer the moment away from the sudden shift in energy.

he doesn’t step back, and the proximity feels heavier now. this sort of closeness isn’t new—it’s happened countless times before—but it felt different ever since jungkook started his whole “i’m a grown man now” thing.

you think it began after your breakup with your ex, a few months ago. it wasn’t messy, just two people realizing they weren’t meant to be. it was fine, really. still, you’d had your moments of sadness, and jungkook had been there for all of it, comforting you in his own way.

but somewhere along the line, he started slipping in comments like, “it’s okay, jji. you can lean on me. i’m a grown man now.” it had made you laugh at first— you didn’t think he was serious. but the more time passed, the more you realized he was indeed, serious.

and you don’t know what to do with that.

“yeah…” he mutters, barely audible, but his gaze doesn’t falter. he keeps looking at you, and you find yourself unable to look away.

then, his hand shifts, his fingers intertwining with yours. you snap out of your thoughts, your brows knitting together as you notice him leaning closer.

your breath catches, and before you can think, you flinch and instinctively step back— unfortunately, towards the pool.

“oh—”

the slippery floor doesn’t give you a chance. you stumble, yelping as you lose balance. your grip on jungkook’s hand tightens as you fall, and his eyes widen in alarm.

it all happens too quickly.

your body hits the water with a splash, the cold instantly shocking your senses. jungkook's grip on your hand slips and he drops to one knee at the edge of the pool, his eyes wide with panic.

“jji !! are you okay?” jungkook asks, his voice louder than usual as it cuts through the sound of splashing water.

you blink up at him, soaked and disoriented, water dripping from your hair and face. with a heavy sigh, you mutter flatly, “jungkook.”

his lips twitch, and you can see him trying to suppress a laugh. “it’s not my fault!” he says defensively.

“you— you scared me!” you snap, grabbing the edge of the pool to pull yourself out.

“what did i do?” he argues, kneeling fully to help you.

“ugh, nothing,” you grumble as you accept his help. with his grip, you manage to haul yourself out of the pool, but now you’re completely drenched. your clothes stick to you uncomfortably, and you can already feel the chill settling in.

“well,” he says, glancing at you, “at least you’ve got extra clothes here and..”

but then his words trail off. he stops moving entirely.

you look at him, confused by his sudden silence, until you realize—

oh shit.

your soaked white shirt has turned almost transparent, clinging to your skin and revealing the light pink bra underneath. jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second before his cheeks flush bright red. his head jerks up so quickly it startles you.

“uh—” he stammers, now looking everywhere but at you, “the t-towel!”

your head snaps to the towel lying forgotten on the floor. you grab it immediately, wrapping it around yourself as fast as you can.

“i-i’m gonna go change,” you say, your voice shaky as you clutch the towel tightly.

he’s still turned away, fidgeting as he stares into the void, anywhere except you. “yeah, yep, sure, you know the way!” he rambles, his words tumbling out so fast they almost don’t make sense.

despite the awkwardness, you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

he’s flustered.

so flustered that it’s kind of.. cute.

“jagi, can you also get the tomato sauce? i think we need more,” your mom says into her phone, distracted as she talks to your dad. she looks a little frustrated, glancing between the ingredients for lunch and you playing on the floor with jungkook. his little hands clap excitedly as you build a colorful fort with play blocks.

“aish, jagi, no, not that one! you know, the one with—” her voice fades into the background, leaving just you and jungkook surrounded by his tiny giggles.

“jajji !” he exclaims, pointing at you with a big smile.

you giggle back, his happiness contagious. you gently take his small hands in yours, your slightly bigger hands wrapping around his.

“my dad is my mommy’s jagi,” you explain, smiling at him. “just like my mommy is my dad’s jagi.”

“eomma?” he asks, his head tilting as he refers to his mom.

“yes! your eomma is your appa’s jagi, and your appa is eomma’s jagi,” you say with confidence, proud of your explanation.

“jajji !!” he repeats, laughing at the word, his laugh light and full of joy.

at that time, he was new to the neighborhood. his family had moved in not long ago, but the two of you got along so well that he was already spending afternoons at your place for playdates.

“no, jungkook,” you say sweetly, pointing at your mouth to enunciate the word clearly. “ja-gi.”

he blinks at you, his little head tilting again as he tries to understand. after a moment, his eyes light up like he’s figured out something big.

“jji !!” he exclaims, clapping his hands again.

you burst into laughter. “jji?!”

“you,” he points at you, his grin so wide it shows his tiny teeth. then he points at himself and says proudly, “my jji.”

your face brightens with joy.

“and you,” you say, pointing back at him with equal excitement, “my jji.”

you smile as your eyes settle on a picture frame of a seven-year-old you with a three-year-old jungkook perched on your lap. his tiny arms are wrapped around you, his grin showing his little bunny teeth. your hands are loosely holding him, and your expression is full of joy. you wrap your arms around yourself now, standing in front of his wall of memories, each photo telling a story.

there’s his kindergarten graduation, his middle school soccer team, and his high school prom; with you beside him because he refused to take a date, saying he’d be just fine as long as you could make it somehow. (more like insisted you), and you did— showing up near the end of the prom, and you still remember the way his entire face lit up when he saw you there.

photos of him winning trophies and awards, moments that document every stage of his life, and in almost all of them, you’re right there beside him. you trace the edge of one of the frames lightly—the one with him on your lap—with your fingers, a small smile playing on your lips.

“figured it out jji !” jungkook's voice calls out, breaking your thoughts. you turn to see him walking out of the kitchen, a wooden spoon in one hand, looking triumphant. “i forgot to add sesame oil.”

you chuckle, watching him as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. he's fully refreshed now after his shower, and you’re wearing the fresh clothes you grabbed after your own dive into the pool.

“need any help?” you ask, tilting your head.

“nope! the only thing i need you to do is eat,” he says, flashing a grin before disappearing back into the kitchen.

you can’t help but smile again. the strange tension from earlier, the moment by the pool, it feels like a distant memory now. right now, it’s just jungkook; your jungkook. the boy who grew up with you, who you’ve always been able to depend on. there’s nothing to overthink, nothing to worry about.

he's just your jji.

next chappie at 120 notes !!

a/n: ive got the plot already written in my notes but it takes time to fully write & execute it ,, pls forgive me for the slow updates 😣

💌 series taglist: @milkk1400 @dna-black-and-blue @vrsltz @jkvamp @dieforkoo @myjungkookthighs

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @thvgukk

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[redrose10]

Here is the second and final chapter. Thank you for all the feedback. I hope everyone likes it!

Idol Husband Yoongi x Female Spouse Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, body insecurity, hints of cheating, jealousy, anxiety, panic attacks, slightly smutty but nothing crazy

Part 1

Part 1.5

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

A few days had passed since Yoongi left your home. You needed some space to process everything that had happened and he was willing to give that to you. Luckily, Hana was used to him being gone for periods of time so she didn’t question it too much and went about her days normally.

Yoongi seemed to be handling everything just fine too which only upset you more because you couldn’t understand how he wasn’t a mess. If it wasn’t for Hana needing you then you wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

If he truly cared about you he would’ve been begging for your forgiveness. It had you questioning a lot of things. Why did he give up so easily? Why hadn’t he tried harder to explain himself? Why did he still have to text you every day to remind you to take your vitamins and drink enough water? Why did he still have to have your favorite breakfast delivered to you every morning knowing you’d be too tired to cook for yourself? Why did he have to remind you about your doctors appointment today when even you forgot about it? You hated that he was still so thoughtful and involved even when he wasn’t there because it made it harder to hate him.

Before your appointment you dropped Hana off at your parents place. She was spending the night there because you wanted her to do something exciting plus you just needed a night to yourself. Your appointment went great. The baby was healthy and you were too so you decided to reward yourself with one of your biggest cravings and a night of relaxing on the couch trying not to think about anything that had happened in the last week.

You had just gotten home with your large pizza covered in pineapple, pickles, and onions with extra anchovies on the side when there was a knock at the door. You sighed before putting the pizza down and slowly getting up to see who was interrupting your peaceful evening.

“Jimin?”, you questioned seeing the smiling man standing in front of you holding up a tub of ice cream. “Hheeeyyyy Y/N. How’s it goin?”, he sang as you stared at him before turning to walk away. “Yoongi’s not here.”, you said knowing that he was just going to follow you anyways.

“Yeah I know.”, he sarcastically said before placing the ice cream into the freezer, “He’s currently moping around on my couch driving me crazy.”

“Sounds like a you and him problem.”, you said taking a bite of your pizza while ignoring the dramatically disgusted face Jimin was making at the sight of it. It tasted like heaven to you thanks to your pregnancy hormones and that’s all that mattered.

Even though you acted indifferent to his news there was a big part of you that felt relief knowing he had been at Jimin’s and not hers.

“Please come get your husband.”, he whined before dropping down into the chair next to you, “Look I love him like a brother, but he’s sooooo annoying when he’s like this. He won’t tell me what happened, but he just keeps sitting there and pouting and if he’s not pouting then he’s crying AND I’m going to have to put a lock on my freezer. He ate my favorite ice cream Y/N. My absolute favorite. I was so excited to come home after a hard day of practice and eat some of my special ice cream but nooooo it was all gone and he didn’t even bother trying to hide the evidence.”

You continued chewing as you mulled over his words. “I didn’t know he was like that.”, you mumbled before taking another bite.

“Yeah tell me about it. He doesn’t even like caramel or white chocolate.”, Jimin scoffed.

“Has he really been crying?”, you questioned. You had known Yoongi a long time and you had only ever seen him cry once, on the day Hana was born and they were tears of joy. He certainly never cried over your relationship before, at least to your knowledge. That was not like him. He always wanted to come off as strong to you, even when he was struggling.

Jimin nodded, “Yeah he is a total wreck. He keeps mumbling something about being stupid and a divorce and then he starts crying again.”

“Divorce…?”, you whispered.

“Hey uh I hate to pry and I know it’s not really my place, but what happened between you two? I’ve never seen him like this so it must’ve been pretty bad.”, he hesitantly asked.

“He cheated on me.”, you answered deciding to just rip the bandage off.

Jimin laughed which made you quickly throw a glare in his direction so he stiffened up and cleared his throat. “No he didn’t.”, he simply said shaking his head, “Yoongi is a lot of things, but cheater is not one of them and he definitely would not have cheated on you.”

“Yeah well tell that to the woman who pulled his tie out of her purse because apparently he left it at her place.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock, “WWWHHHAAATT?”

You nodded, “Yep, we were at Hana’s talent show and this woman came up to us and handed him his tie from her purse. You know that cherry tie I gave him for our anniversary? She said he left it at her house. What other reason would there be for him to remove his tie other than sleeping with her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they were eating and he didn’t want to get it dirty? He loves that tie.”, he shrugged.

“Okay then why was he eating at her house to begin with?”, you rolled your eyes, “And he just left. He didn’t even try that hard to explain himself. Maybe he didn’t want the truth to come out.”

“Y/N you know how he is…He’s all about letting things cool down. He probably just didn’t want you getting even more upset and then things would be made worse. He did mention something about the baby and stress and how it’s bad. I don’t know. He’s the one who reads like every baby book ever published.”

Nodding along you started to agree, “I guess...”

Jimin turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow. He tried to speak, but you cut him off, “I don’t blame him to be honest. I mean look at me Jimin. I look like I swallowed a beach ball. I have stretch marks and my boobs are saggy and uneven and that all happened before I even got pregnant for the second time. That woman…she was perfect. She definitely didn’t spend her Friday nights sitting on the couch eating a whole pizza by herself. Why wouldn’t he choose to be with her over me? I bet he doesn’t even find me attractive any more. He probably hasn’t since Hana was born so this was a long time coming anyways.”

You could feel the familiar burning sensation in your waterline and you began to sniffle. Jimin reached over and took your hands into his. Lightly he gave you a squeeze to remind you that he was there for you. “Y/N, deep down you know none of the that is true. Yoongi loves you. He loves you more than anything in this world. He loves every part of you. Trust me. Yoongi loves to brag about you…sometimes a little too much. I still can’t look at a can of whipped cream without feeling weird. And DO NOT even get me started on that cherry neck choker thing he likes you to wear.”

You laughed a little thankful that he was there to help you work through all of this.

“Hey do you remember what that woman’s name was?”, he asked suddenly like he had just thought of something.

You shook your head, “I don’t know. Sarah or Aera or something like that. I kind of blacked out a little.”

Jimin softly chuckled to himself before breaking out into a big smile, “You need to talk to Yoongi. Let him explain and then the two of you need to discuss all of this. Tell him how you’re feeling. It’s not good to bottle this up…for either of you.”

You nodded and whispered a small okay before Jimin grumbled something about going home to save the rest of his ice cream and quickly scurried out of the apartment leaving you to process everything alone.

You were nervous. Hana was spending the second night in a row with your parents and you weren’t sure which one of them was more excited about the extended stay, but you were happy it worked out. Because currently you were pacing around the kitchen waiting for Yoongi to come home. When Jimin came over yesterday he had made it seem like there was a perfectly good explanation for everything that had happened so you texted Yoongi at 3am asking if he wanted to come home for dinner and talk. He responded immediately with a yes and a light scolding for being up so late, but it wasn’t that easy for you to get to sleep.

There was a beep at the door before it opened and shut quickly. Yoongi’s socked feet padded into the kitchen shortly after. The familiar smell of your favorite noodle spot quickly filled the air. He held up the bag with a shy smile and the two of you ate in awkward silence. And when you were done and cleaned up and you couldn’t stall any longer you moved over to the couch to get comfortable. Yoongi took a seat next to you, but still made sure to leave some space unsure of how you would react to him and it killed you that things had gotten so uncomfortable between you both.

“How have you been Y/N?”, he asked.

“Good. You?”

“Alright I guess. I’ve been better.”

You nodded unsure of what else to say.

“I miss you Y/N. I miss you and Hana.”, he said after a while, ���I want to come home.”

“Yoongi…are…are you…are you cheating on me?”, you finally questioned wanting to just get it over with. Your bluntness shocked you and him both, but at this point you were tired and you figured what else could it hurt.

You watched his body tense at the question which brought instant tears to your eyes knowing the truth.

Frantically he began wiping away those tears. You wanted to shove him away and tell him not to touch you, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you. Smelling his cologne that usually signified safety and comfort. Feeling his skin on yours after so long was too much to bare and you needed it.

“Y/N I didn’t cheat on you. I swear on everything I have.”, he whispered trying to keep you calm.

“Then who is she Yoongi? Why did she have your tie and why were you at her place to begin with? Why are you so close with her son?”

He took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair, “Her name is Aera Kim. She is the new Director of International Relations for the company. She helps coordinate things for us outside of Korea like tours, promotions, merchandising, things like that.”

All you heard was not only is she beautiful, but she’s also really successful and powerful too which didn’t help. Yoongi could see the drop in your demeanor so he turned to look at you so you could see how serious he was.

He continued, “We were at her place a few weeks ago. All of us. All of the guys, our managers, and a few others on the team. We were discussing the upcoming album release and world tour. Things were fine and then she said that they decided to add more tour dates. Five more in the US, three more in Europe, and they want to add a whole leg of the tour in South America plus all of the promotions and interviews that come with that. AND they want Namjoon, Hobi, and I to release an EP for a rap thing.”, he took a deep breath trying to collect his thoughts, “That’s going to add on an extra six months to the tour which was already going to take almost nine months to begin with. Then if we do release this EP there will be EVEN MORE work on top of all of that. Y/N I’ll be gone for well over a year and who knows how much longer. There might be a little break here and there, but not a lot. I’m going to miss so much. I won’t be here for you or Hana or the baby. I’ll miss the baby learning to crawl, maybe even their first steps and first words. Hana already tells everyone how I’m always gone on “bwusiness” and this will only make that worse. It kills me every time I hear her say something like that. I was already struggling with going on this tour to begin with and now it has me questioning everything. I…I just…I don’t know if I can do this any more Y/N. I’ve been thinking about leaving the group. I can just write lyrics or maybe just produce. At least I get to be here more often if I I do that.”

You felt bad for him. You knew it was tough on him at times, but you didn’t know it was to this extreme.

“The more I sat there and thought about it the more I began to panic. If I back out of the group then I’m letting down the guys and the label and of course the fans. If I go on the tour then I’m letting down my family. I got so worked up during the meeting that I had a full blown panic attack. I walked out onto the balcony to get some air, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe so I took my tie and jacket off because I felt like I was suffocating. Namjoon came out to try and calm me down and after a while they called a car to bring me home. I swear I thought I put the tie in my pocket when I grabbed my jacket so when I couldn’t find it I assumed that I dropped it somewhere or left it in the car, but I guess I left it at her place. I…Y/N I didn’t sleep with her. I promise. I barely speak to her. Her son is a huge fan of mine and he’s friends with Hana at school. Sometimes I let him hang out in my studio so I see her for like thirty seconds while she drops him off and picks him up, but that’s like the most I interact with her outside of business situations.”

Either from relief at getting this off his chest or reliving the stress again or maybe a little of both his shoulders started to shake and he buried his face into his hands. He cries shattering your heart. Your cheeks were fully soaked with your own tears now so with nothing to loose you leaned in and nuzzled your face against him pulling him as close to you as possible, “I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry. I should’ve let you explain from the start. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry you feel like this. You’re not letting anyone down no matter what you do. Please don’t think like that.”

“I never should’ve given you a reason to think that I was cheating on you to begin with.”, he shook his head, “I hate that I let it get to that point. I’ve just been feeling like everything was closing in on me and I didn’t know what to do other than ignore it and hope it all gets better, but it just kept getting worse.”

“No it’s not your fault. I’ve just been so insecure and things have just been kind of weird between us and I really thought you weren’t attracted to me any more and then I saw her and how perfect she is and I panicked because I thought you had moved on to someone better.”, you said through your own tears.

Yoongi surprised you when he moved to get down on the floor to kneel in-front of you. He gently supported himself on your thighs. The warmth and pressure of his hands sent a tingling sensation through your body.

“Y/N, I…fuck I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I’ve just been so stressed and tired and then any time I did want to initiate something I felt like you weren’t into it and I didn’t want to push you or make you feel like I expected something. And you know I’m not the best at speaking my feelings so without being able to show you how I felt I didn’t know how to proceed. But you have no idea how much love I feel for you. And how attracted I am to you. Every little thing about you drives me crazy in the best way possible. I can’t get enough of you and I’m so incredibly sorry that I ever made you think any less.”

Your heart swelled as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt pulling him up onto the couch with your lips searching for his. He laughed trying to catch himself from falling over before reciprocating the action. He straddled you enough to make sure he wasn’t putting too much weight on you as your fingers furiously undid the buttons of his shirt having it removed within seconds. It didn’t take much longer for your shirt to also end up in the same pile on the floor next to you with your bra following right after.

Even though you were burning up Yoongi’s touches left goosebumps on your skin as his fingers trailed down your side to the band of your shorts. He hooked two fingers inside. He teased you just enough to get a desperate whine out out you begging for more. You could feel him smirk against your lips because he got just the reaction he was looking for. He rocked his hips against you searching for any kind of friction and also making sure you could feel how badly he wanted you. Your brain turned into mush with thoughts of him after that.

You pulled away just long enough to catch your breath, “Bedroom?”

“Fuck yes, please.”, he said already picking you up in his arms and carrying you down the hallway while you giggled loudly in response.

Yoongi dropped down onto the bed next to you. “Are you hurt? Was it too much? I wasn’t too rough was I?”, he questioned trying to steady his breathing while pulling you flush against his body and looking you over at the same time. “No”, you shook your head, “You were perfect. I think I…I think we needed that.”

“Yeah.”, he laughed, “It’s been a while huh? Let’s not do that again.“

“Yeah I uh I guess I was afraid to let you see me like this, but it still hurt that lately you never seemed to really even try which only made me feel worse. And everyone’s always talking about how handsome you are and I just felt like I wasn’t good enough. And then I was worried that you found someone el-“

He silenced you with a kiss, “Y/N there will never be anyone else. Not in this lifetime or the next. You’re it for me.”

You smiled and relaxed into his warmth while he soothingly ran a hand over your belly as your baby happily kicked away excited to come into the world soon.

Between the relief you finally felt and his steady heartbeat lulling you it was only minutes before you had nearly fallen asleep in his arms. But then you startled awake remembering a special treat that was waiting for you in the freezer. You and the baby definitely wanted a late night snack and you were thankful it was there.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?”, Yoongi chuckled watching you closely.

“To get cleaned up.”, you grunted as you scooted off of the bed, “Jimin dropped off some ice cream yesterday and I was saving it.”

“Really?”, he asked following you into the shower, “I could go for some ice cream right about now. What flavor?”

You relaxed letting the warm water run over your sore body as you looked up at him with a cheeky smile, “Cherry.”

[hansmic]

𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈

seungmin x gn! reader

summary: finding a guitar instructor so last minute was hard. You were producing a new song which needed you to play guitar. you searched online for many people who are giving lessons but they were all booked, accept one person was willing to give lessons but it was his first time teaching. which didn’t know how to make you feel to learn with someone with no expirence teaching. You decided to give it a try. But what happens when you end up falling for him? will your sessions become awkward or intimate?

warnings: HEAVY makeout session

word count: 1.5k

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You found yourself in a bit of a predicament. Your latest song required you to play the guitar, but finding an instructor who could help you master it so last minute was proving to be a challenge. Every musician you reached out to was booked solid, and it seemed like you might have to abandon the idea altogether.

Just when you were about to give up hope, you found a listing online for a guitar instructor who was willing to give lessons. The catch? It was his first time teaching. You weren't sure how you felt about learning from someone with no experience instructing, but you decided to give it a try.

You felt a little nervous as you waited for seungmin to arrive. He seemed kind and knowledgeable over the phone, so you were optimistic about the lesson.

When he arrived, you were taken aback by how attractive he was. He had a rugged appeal that you couldn't quite pin down, but you found yourself drawn to him from the moment you laid eyes on him.

As he began to teach you the basics of guitar, you felt your heart racing every time he walked over to correct your hand placement or show you a new technique. You couldn't deny the electricity between you

"You're a natural at this," seungmin remarked as you easily picked up the chords he was teaching you.

"I don't know about that," you replied, feeling self-conscious.

"No, really," he insisted. "You have a real talent. I'm impressed."

You couldn't help but feel a little flushed at the compliment.

As the lesson progressed, you and seungmin found yourselves getting more and more comfortable with each other. You joked and laughed together, and you couldn't help but feel like there was something more there than just a teacher-student relationship.

But you weren't sure if seungmin felt the same way. He was so focused on teaching you, and you didn't want to make things awkward by misreading the situation. So you tried to keep things professional, even as you felt yourself falling for him.

"That's all the time we have for today," seungmin said as he packed up his guitar and other teaching materials.

"Thank you so much for your help," you replied, feeling a little disappointed that the lesson was over.

"I'm happy to continue teaching you," he said, surprising you. "If you want to, of course."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending more time with him, even if it was just for guitar lessons.

"I'd love that," you replied, feeling your heart flutter with anticipation.

As you said goodbye and seungmin left, you couldn't stop thinking about him. You tried to push the thoughts away, telling yourself that he was just a guitar instructor and you were paying him to teach you.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him. You wondered what it would be like to be with him, to be more than just friends. You knew it was a risky thing to think about, but you couldn't help yourself.

Over the next few weeks, you continued your guitar lessons with seungmin. Each lesson was more enjoyable than the last, and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him every week.

Despite your growing feelings for him, you still tried to keep things professional. You didn't want to make things awkward or jeopardize your progress as a guitarist.

But as the weeks went by, you could see that seungmin seemed to be enjoying your time together just as much as you were. His touches lingered a little longer when he adjusted your hand placement, and his gaze seemed to hold yours for a moment longer than necessary.

One day, as you were practicing a particularly challenging chord progression, you found yourself struggling. Seungmin came over to help, putting his hand over yours to guide your finger placement.

But instead of removing his hand once you had it right, he left it there, resting gently on top of yours.

You glanced up at him, heart racing, and found him looking back at you with a soft expression.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'm your instructor. It's not appropriate," he replied, his gaze not leaving yours.

"I don't care," you said, surprising even yourself with your boldness. "I want you."

Seungmin's eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was electric, full of pent-up desire and long-simmering feelings. You wrapped your arms around seungmin's shoulders, pulling him in closer as you deepened the kiss.

Seungmin's hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and curve as you melted into his touch. It was passionate and intense, fueled by the chemistry that had been building between you for weeks.

As the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless, your faces just inches apart. "I want you too," he whispered, his eyes burning with desire.

For the rest of the lesson, you couldn't focus on anything but the thought of seungmin's lips on yours. You couldn't wait to see him again, to explore the passion that had finally been awakened between you.

As you said goodbye, seungmin gave you a soft, lingering kiss before he left. It was a promise of more to come, and you couldn't wait to see where this newfound attraction would take you.

The next lesson was even more charged with desire than the last. You could feel the tension building between you as seungmin stood close behind you, guiding your hands as you played the guitar.

Your heart raced with anticipation as you turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Seungmin responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as you kissed passionately. It was intense and all-consuming, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel seungmin's hands moving lower, exploring every inch of your body. You moaned into his mouth, arching your back as he pressed himself against you.

Suddenly, Seungmin lifted you up and carried you over to the couch, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down gently, his hands trailing up your shirt and teasing your skin.

You gasped as he broke the kiss, his mouth moving down to your neck and collarbone. He kissed and sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of marks that only served to fuel your desire.

As seungmin continued his exploration of your body, you could feel yourself growing more and more aroused. You wanted him, and you knew he wanted you too.

"Please," you whispered, not wanting to wait any longer. Seungmin didn't need any further encouragement. He sat up and pulled you onto his lap, your bodies pressing together as you kissed passionately.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel his hands moving over your body, teasing and caressing you in all the right places. Suddenly, seungmin flipped you over, his lips trailing down your neck and chest as he slowly removed your top.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He leaned in and kissed you again, his hands moving down to unbutton your pants.

As you helped him remove your pants, seungmin continued to explore your body, his lips and hands moving over every inch of your exposed skin. You could feel your desire growing, fueled by the heat and passion between you. As he pulled away and began to remove his own clothes, you couldn't help but watch, feeling a sense of longing as he revealed more and more of his body to you.

As the night drew to a close, you lay in each other's arms, spent and satisfied. Seungmin's gentle breathing was the only sound in the room as you held each other close.

As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that your lessons had turned into something much more. You had found more than just a guitar instructor - you had found a deep, passionate connection with someone who made your heart sing.

As the sun rose, you woke up in Seungmin's arms, feeling content and happy. You could feel his warmth beside you, and the memories of the night before flooded through your mind.

Seungmin stirred beside you, opening his eyes and smiling as he saw you awake. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice still sleepy.

"Good morning," you replied, smiling back at him. You stretched, feeling a little sore but in the best possible way.

"So does this mean we're not just guitar lesson buddies anymore?" you joked, feeling a flutter in your stomach at the thought.

Seungmin chuckled, pulling you in for a kiss. "I'd say we're a little more than that," he replied, his eyes twinkling.

"I'm good with that," you said, smiling so widely that your cheeks hurt.

"Me too," Seungmin said, kissing you again before pulling you back down into the bed.

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masterlist is here



[flawssy-227]

Fogwell’s pt.1 Matt murdock x f!reader

pairing: College!matt murdock x fem!reader

a/n: this is a repost from almost THREE years ago on my old blog! since the new daredevil is coming out soon... maybe I'll revisit my favorite hell's kitchen baby boy.

I will always do my best to leave the reader description as vague as possible (albeit female, but I am a woc, so will also always have woc in mind in my writing)

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: mention of beer, language

You remembered the first time you met him.

It was a Sunday at Fogwell’s, the gym was closed except for a private training session you had held earlier, some women from a hair salon in Hell’s Kitchen wanting to learn self defense.

You heard the little bell chime above the front door that signaled someone was coming in.

“We’re closed,” you called out without turning around. You were preoccupied with taking off your hand wraps as you heard him tentatively tap his way into the gym.

“Oh, sorry,” he started. “I was hoping I could speak with the owner.”

“You’re lookin’ at her,” you stated definitively. You took in his appearance, tall, somewhat built, a slight blush crossing his cheeks, and stubble you almost wanted to reach out and run your fingers across. He was cute you thought, as you tried searching his eyes before realizing they were pointed downward, a walking stick clutched tightly in his hands. “What can I help you with?”

“You don’t sound like the owner of a boxing gym in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen,” the man cocked his head to the side with a small smirk.

You scoffed a bit. “It’s my uncle’s gym, but he is on an extended vacation in Florida. Till he comes back, if he comes back, I’m the owner-operator,” you stated matter of factly. “You gonna question me or tell me what you want?” you said as you finished unwinding your hand wraps.

His small smirk extended into a full grin as he took a step closer to you and extended his hand for you to shake. “I’m Matt. I uh, I wanted to see if I could train here?”

You shook his hand, large and warm in yours. “Yeah, sure. We have open gym from 11-4, Monday through Saturday, kickboxing classes during the week at 5, boxing after that…” you trailed off. “What are you looking for?”

“Something more… private, actually.”

Now it was your turn to cock your head questioningly. As if he could feel it, he started speaking again.

“Even though I’m blind, I can feel people watching me. I know they’re wondering what someone like me is doing at a boxing gym, but I don’t need the judgement or little comments they make that they think I can’t hear. Plus my dad used to box here, way back in the day. I just want to be able to train in peace, privately. After hours?” he explained.

“After hours?” 

“Just a couple of days a week. I’ll stay out of your way. I promise.”

There was sincerity in his voice as you weighed your options. He seemed perfectly nice, innocent even. You usually stayed late in the gym most nights anyway, either looking over Fogwell’s books or training by yourself. Matt training after hours wouldn’t really impact you either way, plus, if you were being honest, you could use all the extra help financially.

“I’ll tell you what, you can stay today. I’ll be in the office, working on some things. Use the gym, do whatever you want, and I’ll make a decision after. Does that sound fair?”

Matt nodded his head, still clutching his walking stick. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No worries, Matt.” You began walking your way back to your office before turning around again. “You’re a Murdock, right?”

Matt was in the middle of unzipping his jacket when he turned to look back at you quizzically. 

“You said your dad trained here. It was Jack, right? Jack Murdock?”

He slowly nodded back at you. 

You walked backward to your office, taking in the man in front of you. “Nice to meet you, Murdock.”

That was about 5 weeks ago, and Matt had been making regular appearances in your gym ever since. He would show up after hours a few times during the week and on weekends, sometimes giving you a call and begging, pleading you to come back and unlock the gym for him. You always would, knowing he would slip you a few extra dollars or bring you a 6-pack of beer to show his gratitude. You knew it wasn’t the only reason you would go out of your way to let Matt into Fogwell’s, but he didn’t have to know that.

You had a quickly developing crush on him. He was sweet, kind, and smart. Not hard to look at, either. He would flirt with you sometimes too, you were sure of it. Complimenting your perfume, praising your generosity. Sometimes you felt like he could read your mind, calling out your name or coming into the office every time you would daydream about him. You would always ask him to stay later when he brought you beer, too. Sometimes he would, and you two would spend an extra hour sitting around and talking about life. You really began to look forward to his calls, feeling a little lonely if you didn’t hear from him for a couple of days. 

There were other reasons you wanted to see him, too. He would do things, when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Things that made you question how much his disability really affected him. So, when he gave you a call at 9 PM on a Saturday, begging, no, pleading you to open up the gym for him, you immediately said yes.

He was waiting for you at the front door, body perking up as he heard you approaching.

“You got here fast,” he said.

“Murdock, you know I live upstairs.”

“I know, I know. I’m just surprised you didn’t have plans. It is Saturday, after all.”

You scoffed as you held the door open for him. “Here to make me feel bad or to train?”

He laughed as he made himself comfortable in the gym. He took off his hoodie and you made a sharp inhale at his toned stomach. Was it just you, or was he getting ripped?

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked, walking toward the ring in the center of the gym.

“Sure,” he said, rolling his neck and shaking out his muscles.

“You ever think about getting in the ring?” You hopped up onto the platform and lowered the middle rope to climb in.

Matt looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips. “Can’t say that I have. Might not be easy for me to see who I’m fighting, on account of the no seeing thing.”

“Humor me,” you said, trying to take a slow deep breath as the shirtless man made his way toward you.

Matt walked to the ring, reaching his hand out to feel for the platform before climbing into it himself.

You slowly walked around the ring while Matt stayed close to the ropes, trying to decide the best way to approach your theory.

“I’ve been watching you these past few weeks,” you started, centering yourself directly across from him.

His eyebrows quirked up at your confession. “Oh?”

You nodded your head. “You’d probably be a tough opponent. Natural ability, a lot of fight in you.”

Matt’s smile grew bigger, his chest puffing out slightly at your compliment. He was clearly about to make some clever, flirty remark back at you, as he always did, but you took advantage of his distracted state and slid your keys out of your pocket, throwing them straight at his head.

You watched as his brows furrowed, only slightly, his head popping straight up. You don’t know it, but Matt feels the breeze shift in the gym when your arm quickly moves to throw the keys, he smells your deodorant, the fragrance being released because of the little bits of friction caused by your movement, and he tastes the metallic of the keys as they fly through the air.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You had a feeling, but you were still surprised to see Matt clutching your keys directly in front of his eyes. He looks at you, eyes pointed slightly downward, a devilish smirk plastered on his face, knowing you caught him.

“I fucking knew it!”

would you guys like more Matt? I have a very very old angsty wip that I'm tempted to finish if anybody is interested!

[whor3ing]

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆 | 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

Matt Sturniolo x f!reader

WARNINGS : NSFW content - smut, consent, hate-fucking!, dom! pet names, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, vibrator + oral (fem receiving), intercourse/penetration, fem bondage (with clothes)!, choking, slight overstim/edging

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

IN WHICH.. You broke up with your ex-boyfriend Matt Sturniolo a few months ago after some new changes in your relationship. However, when you show up at his door in the middle of the night needing him, he reminds you that you don't always get what you want so easily.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

this is my first smut post on tumblr! ♡

"Oh, would you look at that."

Matt scanned you from head to toe, his eyebrows furrowing as he opened the door. He had missed you so endlessly these last four months, his hands always brushing over the framed pictures he had standing in almost every room, his eyes always trailing over to the few things you had left behind. A thousand of different memories he couldn't seem to forget, no matter how hard he had tried.

You move your head to the side at his reaction, in confusion. You had hoped he would be excited to see you. You had taken the time to do your hair so delicately, you had picked a gorgeous dress you always knew he had liked, it was no secret you had done your best to look beautiful for him and looking at you, he knew that. Your hands find comfort in toying with one another as you look at him hiding slightly behind the open door.

Matt had always been gorgeous and although he was tired with darkened circles beneath his eyes, his lack of sleep had nothing on his piercing eyes and his full lips. Every feature on his face looked as if it were perfectly crafted, even in his half-awake state. His hair was messy but it laid perfectly tousled and his nose was adorable and sweet.

Propped up against the door, he looked at your confused expression, his eyes glinting.

"Hmm?" He muttered, the sound rolling off his lips as he analyzed your confused expression. "I'm just surprised to see you here."

He paused looking away from you for a second before continuing, crossing his arms in a defensive state,."It's been, what, four months..? Since you came and packed all your shit?"

Your eyes move to his the moment he finishes speaking, before slowly gliding to his arms and down to his torso. Your eyes cling to the way his white tanktop fits around his waist, the slightest bit of skin showing right below his belly button, above his plaid pajama pants. Sighing, you turn away in an attempt to return back to your car, your head spinning as to why you ever thought this would be a good idea.

Matt purses his lips, a small 'tsk' escaping from his lips as he rolls his eyes ready to shut the door, "Are you really that embarrassed to be on my doorstep in the middle of the night? You came all the way here just to walk away again?"

Turning around, you see his head turn slightly to the side as he eyes you again before continuing, "Is someone a little self-conscious standing there in such a pretty dress? Or just worried someone might see you standing here on my doorstep, and realize just how desperate you are to fix the mistake you made?"

He sighs slowly and opens the door further, stepping forward to face you. A quarter of his body is still behind the front door, but his face is closer to you now, the automatic porch light shining to illuminate upon his chiseled figure. Finally less than three inches away from him, face to face after so long.

He rolls his eyes, reaching out to toy with a strand of your hair between his two fingers. "Well, let's hear it. What do you want?" He murmurs, his voice like velvet but his reaction guarded.

You bite your lip, shaking your head slightly before answering in almost a whisper. "I missed you." It comes out small, quiet, as if you're almost too ashamed to say it, as if it's not painfully obvious.

His head jerks forward closer to your mouth as he stands in front of you, his eyes squinting as if he's confused. "What was that, couldn't quite hear you, sweetheart. I need you to speak clearly to me."

You take a big breath in, looking at him as his hand that had earlier been in your hair trails to touch your cheek. He taps it twice as if urging you to try again, leaving his hand there against your skin as you respond.

"I made a mistake and I miss you, Matt." You say louder than before, your voice still rather quiet.

He laughs, removing his hand from your cheek unimpressed. "You need me- You miss me?" He pauses, his hands running through his hair as he laughs at you. He shakes his head once again, his hands coming down to his sides, his smile faded and his voice harsher than the cold wind, "You don't have any right to miss me."

You open your mouth but he stops you, his voice hoarse, "You dumped me, remember? You decided this, and now you're here, in the middle of the night, because you finally had an epiphany and realized that we could've made this all work?" Matt brushes his hand across his cheek; very clearly annoyed and hurt, his body moving back towards the inside of the warm house, the door still cracked open between the two of you.

His eyes follow you out to your place on his porch, your legs exposed and your arms with raised goosebumps. He sighs, perching the door open more; a kind gesture, urging you to follow him inside.

As you walk into Matt's house you're greeted with the familiar scent of lavender, no doubt from his dryer sheets. You remember this from the times you did laundry together, from the times you held his hand in the store and had smiled at just how good the detergent aisle had smelled, how those familiar scents would fill the bedrooms and cling to all of his clothes you had used to wear.

At first you had argued with him about dryer sheets, you had insisted on getting a more fresh and clean scent, something that felt like the lingering of fall or the sweet reprise of summer; Now, you couldn't even imagine having something so small to argue with him about, everything now was so much bigger than that.

You watch as Matt shuts the door behind the both of you, the air thick with tension and emotion. When the door hits against the frame, you hear a lock click and a loud thud. Matt reaches his hands up to stretch, turning before walking towards the kitchen.

Standing in the entry of the familiar house, you cracking your knuckles to fill the uncomfortable silence before finally deciding to follow him into the kitchen.

The kitchen is dark, the only lighting coming from the hallway lights and the only noise being the slow whistle of a tea kettle and the unsteadiness of your own breathing. There's no doubt about it that your face is flush and warm, your hands are dewy with sweat and that your breath is harsh and rough. Matt's back is to you, his hands on the kettle, pouring tea into two small white teacups and measuring out a teaspoon of honey for only one.

Sometimes you forget how well Matt truly knows you, you forget that his hands have seen every contour of your body and that his mind and the pages of his journal have spent years learning every like and dislike you could possibly have.

You watch as he brings your cup of tea over to you, setting it on the counter, he leans on the other side of the counter, his lips puckering and his eyes closing to blow on his own cup of hot tea.

His eyes open again and glance from you to the chair on the other side of the counter. You nervously glance back before moving your feet to sit on the chair, only a counter across from him.

A few moments pass, neither of you say much. Matt's eyes stay closed for the most part, only opening slightly to make silent glances towards you, as if he has a million things to say but has run out of words.

After a long while, Matt breaks the silence.

"Why did you do it?" He asks directly, his voice incredibly hurt and hoarse.

Pausing, you look up to meet his closed eyes. You look at him even if he can't look at you, your eyes sear into his features as you respond.

"Everything was going so fast. You were away from home, you had been offered an incredible brand deal in New York with your brothers." You clear your throat slowly, reaching up to wipe under your eyes. "I didn't want to hold you back from that. I would never move away from California, I have too much here. I didn't want you to have to make the choice between me or your career."

It seemed as if in that moment, everything stopped. His eyes softened and the tea hummed against the back of your throat as he looked at you, his lips pursed,

"So you think you made it easier for me?" Matt pauses, standing up and beginning to pace, his voice full of anger. "You think choosing to end a almost two year relationship with me would make me feel more— what?" He laughs, "career oriented?"

You open your mouth to respond, but Matt beats you to it, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen. "No. Because let me tell you what I did after you left." He stops pacing to face you, his face flush. "I sat in this house— I stared at the things you forgot and I was scared shitless that you would come back only to take them and go again." He shakes his head, his voice holding only anger. "I slept on the couch because I couldn't bear to sleep in that bed without you."

Tears slide down your cheeks at his words, realizing how badly you had hurt the man you love. You look down, angry at yourself and so incredibly sorry for the man in front of you.

He opens his mouth again, walking over to the other side of the counter and slamming is hand down harsh on the table in a fist. Looking straight at you, he continues, "I love you and I will always love you, you will always be the woman that I want— But you can't just decide these things for me."

Your head falls down, your eyes faltering down to his bunched up fists placed out in front of you in the counter. Instinctively, without thinking, you reach out to place your palm on top of his.

Angry, he snatches his hand away bringing it back to his side. The action is quick but it leaves you with a hallowed pit in your stomach, your eyes fill with tears and you stand up, your emotions bubbling to the surface.

Maybe there was no way to fix this, maybe there was nothing more you could do.

You walk over to Matt's side of the counter, reaching up to touch the side of his cheek with the same hand he had just rejected to hold. Your fingers linger over his jawline, sliding across his cheekbones caressing the side of his face as you look up at him.

"You're angry." You murmur, matter-of-factly, your hands glide from his hair to his cheek, reveling in the softness of his skin as you say it.

You let out a small smile, your eyes soft as Matt's hand reaches up to hold you at your neck, his thumb tilting your head ever so slightly backwards as he holds you.

Looking up at him you finally whisper,"use it"

Confused, Matt stares at you, his brows furrowed and his eyes full of wonder. "What do you mean use it?" He whispers, his voice more soothing than the honey in the tea he had made for you earlier.

"Maybe the only way for you to forgive me is if you show me exactly how I made you feel." You murmur, your hands grazing against his chest lightly, prying at his tank top.

He grabs your hands from their grasp on his shirt, his eyes hazy as he stares at you. His lips purse and his hands settle against your neck as he responds with a very simple, "are you sure?"

The moment you say yes you are swept off your feet, your hands find themselves grasping onto his shoulders and his fall under your knees, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom, the same bedroom that used to be partially yours too.

The moment you enter Matt's room, he sets you on your feet, his eyes roll at you before he steps in front of you, his eyes suddenly darker. His hand reaches up to touch your cheek once again before he sucks in a deep breath. "Here's exactly what were going to do tonight. I'm going to show you exactly how it feels to have your emotions played with and you, my love are going to take it to apologize for everything you've done."

He smiles at you as he continues, "You'll be a good girl and not complain when I edge you senseless, because if you do, I won't give you what you so desperately want tonight. Understood?"

You tell him you understand as he urges you to sink down to your knees, his eyes fixated on your beautiful face and his hands finding the top of your head to mess with your hair.

"Good, then get to fucking work slut." He urges, pushing down on your head gently, he smiles at you as your hands find his zipper, pulling it down to expose the hard bulge pressing against his black boxers.

Pulling his boxers down, his pants hit the floor and he steps out of them; lifting his tank top up with his left hand to reveal a peek of his abs. You begin slowly licking and kissing against his tip, your tongue curving against every grove. However, looking up at Matt you notice his unimpressed expression and you hear his voice as he murmurs to you that he knows you can take it better than that. With little warning he pulls on your head, urging half of his dick down your throat. His eyes find yours to ensure that you're okay and his hands rub gently against your scalp as his voice becomes scratchy from pleasure.

"Don't be so fucking sloppy about it, I know you can take me deeper, come on now." He murmurs, his voice raspy and uneven as you take him deeper in your mouth.

He pushes your head on and off of his dick, giving you no control over how far you take it, leaving him completely in control of you. His cock plunging from the back of your throat to the opening of your lips again and again.

You gasp for breath as he finally lets you have a very short break, pausing, he takes your hair and pushes it out of your face so that he can see you better. You take this moment to trace against the base of his dick with your hand, your mouth aching for it back.

He rolls his eyes and pushes your mouth back onto his dick, finally letting you have some control over the pace. He hisses, his hips moving into your mouth slowly as he curses.

"You choke so prettily, slut. It's like you were made for my dick, made to suck on it and make me feel so good, weren't you baby?" Your eyes look straight to his abs as you take him deeper and Matt sighs plunging his cock out of your mouth just enough so that he can tap it against your chin.

"Baby look at me when you take it for me, you look so gorgeous with me in your mouth, I want to watch."

He smiles as your head tilts upright and your eyes meet his, his hand finds your hair again as he holds it out of the way for you; making eye contact with you as you choke on it.

You smile against his dick as you hear his groans echo, instinctively you reach down to rub the aching between your legs.

"I can hear how wet and desperate you are, you know." Matt states sternly, looking down at you on your knees. "But this isn't about your fucking pleasure, now is it?"

You shake your head no, but refuse to stop making yourself feel good. He notices this, bending down slightly and placing his hand under your chin to lift your mouth off of his dick and to make your eyes to look up at him. He rolls his eyes as his fingers trace up to open up your mouth, as he spits directly onto your tongue.

"I thought you were going to be a good fucking girl?" He asks sternly his eyes darker, "A good slutty girl doesn't fuck her pussy without permission, does she?"

Matt's fingers slip up to smack your cheek as he moves his dick closer to your mouth, urging you to suck on the tip.

"Maybe I should just send you home, not give that aching cunt any attention at all?"

He shakes his head before moving his lips closer to your ear, "I mean, why do you think you would even deserve pleasure from my fingers, my mouth, let alone my dick after what you did?"

You watch as Matt's hand drags to reach beneath your jaw, his hand pulling your face to look up at him.

"Would you rather me just leave you here on the floor? Or are you going to apologize?" He prods, his hands trailing up to cup around your neck gently.

His head cocks to the side as your mouth smirks upward, not an ounce of apology escaping. He rolls his eyes, his hand closing around your throat as his lips purse in annoyance.

"Nothing?" His hand on your neck drops to his side, as if he is defeated.

You watch carefully as Matt's eyes close briefly, anger behind them. He drops his hand and instead points toward the large king sized bed, before continuing. "On the bed, now."

He watches you as you climb onto his silk sheets, a smirk toying at his lips as he moves to sit beside you.

"Lay down, sweetheart."

Matt moves to stand up, walking over to your pile of things that he's kept almost exactly as you had left them. His eyes scan over your belongings, his hands gliding throughout the pile of scattered items.

He hides the item he chose behind his back as he moves to sit back next to you on the bed, leaving you confused and slightly nervous. You watch as he laughs, his left hand silkily moving across your legs as he reveals the wand behind his back.

"I missed using this on your pretty body." He whispers to you, his fingers tracing circles on your skin, slowly moving upwards.

You instinctively move your hands to his biceps, your fingers tracing against his tattoos before tugging against his white tank, leaving his abs exposed but not all of his chest. He returns this favor, urging your dress to slide up only slightly so he has more access to your legs.

His hands follow yours before his eyes move from your legs to your face, his face merely inches from yours. He chuckles, his lips moving against yours playfully before he pulls back. His hand resting on your bent knee, pulling it towards him to open your legs.

Playfully, Matt rubs his fingers against your inner thighs, his hands grasping and sliding over your lower stomach.

"Should we take these off?" He whispers to you, his fingers toying with the band of your underwear before snapping it back against your skin.

Seeing your pleading eyes, he rolls his eyes at you, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips.

"I'm not sure you want it badly enough.."

He chuckles, his hands sliding over your wetness, slowly caressing.

Matt reaches beside him for the wand, pulling your dress up to expose your stomach. You watch him smile as he trails the wand down your lower stomach, slowly traveling down to your inner thighs.

He hums quietly, turning the wand on and resting it directly above where you need it most, moving it only slightly against your clit.

"Oh, is that not the right spot?" Matt asks pouting mockingly, moving the wand to touch against your opening before moving it back up.

You shake your head and he purses his lips, moving the wand in circles, teasing it against you.

"How about you tell me where you want it then, pretty girl."

He chuckles, moving the wand to that sweet spot of yours, his other hand reaching forward to keep your legs open for him.

"Yeah? Right there huh?" Matt murmurs, his eyes on you, watching you as you squirm for him.

Smiling he leans down to kiss you, your moans still loud and prominent even as he silences you with his lips. Matt pulls back, his lips gliding over his teeth as he gently bites his lip.

His hand moves to rest upon your thigh, his other hand urging the vibrator into your swollen cunt, and rolling his eyes at your echoing sounds.

"You feel so good, don't you baby?" Matt prods, moving his hand against your thigh to rest against your mouth, slowly implying them to open for him. He smiles sliding his index finger in between your lips and into your mouth, the veins in his hands flexing as he glides his finger around your tongue, pulling you towards the brink of your release with every gentle brush from his fingers.

Unexpectedly, Matt leans up, his face closer to yours, his eyes focusing on yours. He smiles, his fingers still spreading against your tongue as you moan and whimper against the skin of his hand. Removing his hand from your mouth he leans to your cheek and shakes his head as he takes in your pleasure for himself.

"Open your fucking mouth and tell me why you ended it."

You look up at him hazily, your vision clouded with pleasure as he slips a finger inside of you, flexing against your g-spot with every movement; the vibrator, and the tension, still heavy on your clit.

Matt shrugs at your silence, his hands moving faster inside of you as he turns the wand to a higher speed, resting it directly where you need it most. His eyes are dark and a strand of his hair hangs in a sweaty curl over his eyes.

Your legs twitch and you grasp at the silk sheets of his bed in desperation, your voice and your squirms rocking the mattress sharply against his wall.

"Is my beautiful girl going to cum?" He smiles, his hands never slowing down, even as he moves his head closer and closer to your face. His lips brushing against your ear as he whispers for you to beg for it. His hands never slow as he nods his head at your pleas, his fingers only moving faster against your pussy.

"Cum for me, be a good girl and cum."

As you reach your climax, your body shaking in his hands, Matt continues to pleasure you with his firm fingers, his hands only moving faster as you writhe and twitch under his touch. Feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated already, your voice comes out quietly as beg for him to stop. Your hands reach down to push against his arms as you try to sit up and get away from his touch; however, his hands inside you slows only to press against your abdomen, his hand holding you down as he works the vibrating wand against you with more force.

"Do you really think just one is going to make up for everything you did to us?"

You watch as your ex, Matt holds your hips and slowly moves the wand to brush against your cunt. His hands pausing to rub comforting circles on your stomach and legs, urging you that you can take it, urging you to be as messy as you can for him.

Finally, he pulls the wand away, setting it down beside him on the bed and moving your legs to open further in front of him.

His hands move from their comfortable spot on your legs and hips to your wet folds, his strong fingers slipping against your wetness and circling your clit.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, his lips parting and his eyes softening, he tilts his head at you; his right hand moving slowly against your warmth.

“Listen to the way you sound my love—so incredibly desperate for me," He pauses, his eyes scanning your beautiful body, traces of jealousy and love in his beautifully bright eyes.

Your body is his and he knows it, your legs are sticky and your abdomen slick with sweat. Matt's hands exit from your entrance and instead rest on your thighs, pulling your legs further apart only to settle himself in the middle, his mouth gently running across the inside of your thigh.

Without warning he smiles as he leaves soft kisses from your knee up to your inner thigh, his lips run over your folds only slightly in a teasing manner. He smiles, laughing as he looks at your tired expression.

"Tired already baby? but we're just starting.."

His hands reach up to pry your dress up further, the hem bunching up just to your collarbone exposing your tits and practically begging to be taken all the way off; and he knows this because he can hear it when your voice comes out as a desperate plea, begging for him to let you feel good.

Suddenly he smiles, his hands toying with your tits and rubbing against your nipples as he grazes his tongue over your clit. His eyes are open and painfully blue as his eyes twinkle at yours.

Matt's tongue slowly enters in between your warm folds, lapping at your wetness as if it's the last thing he has to drink. His eyes close briefly as he takes in the moment and he moans, enjoying the taste of you on his soft lips.

Your body is still sensitive from your first orgasm, your legs twitch and shake as he spits and sucks on your sensitive clit, his hands moving down to hold onto your bucking hips as he eats you out with more force.

It becomes increasingly hard to focus as you are lost in the moment, as each gentle lick and teasing caress sends shivers down your spine and his words lead you into a sort of oblivion. Every flick of his tongue bringing you closer to a point of no return and every whimper escaping you urging him to move his tongue faster inside of you.

Matt has always enjoyed teasing you and because of this, he immediately stops the moment your breath begins to become louder. Pulling his mouth away, he presses a soft kiss to your mound and instead slides his tongue to lick just beside your wetness. His eyes are playful and he lets out a small "tsk" when he sees your now placid expression.

"This is how I feel when you play with my feelings—"

His fingers move to rub against your folds again and the second you let out a moan, his fingers halt; his lips moving teasingly above your clit.

"when you promise me one thing and do the opposite.." Matt lets out a loud exhale, his voice hoarse and filled with desire, as he continues, panting between each word.

" when you swear forever to me and then leave—"

You whine against his words, your core throbbing in impatience as he prolongs your orgasm. He chuckles at your impatience, refusing to finish his sentence all together before finally finishing, "not very nice is it? hmm?"

Exasperated; you sigh, your mouth left open in desperation. Suddenly, his fingers dive into you, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs, his hair is messy and his eyes look at you as he teases you even more than you ever thought possible.

Pushing your legs down onto the bed as he fingers you, his body pins you down and you hear his voice breathless as he smiles. His fingers slip out of you, to trail up along your body as he traces against your hips and your thighs, even more. Seeing the look in your eyes, he chuckles, his smile bright but his gaze solely on you. 

"Please," you whisper, the word slips from your lips like a plea. 

This makes him smile harder, his fingertips reaching up to your tits as he caresses against them. “But you look so pretty when I tease you like this, baby.” Matt lets out a groan as he gropes your tits, complimenting them and prodding his fingers up and down the contours of your body. 

Suddenly, his fingers find themselves back at your core, plunging in and out, his other hand rubbing at your clit as he props himself up to bend and plant kisses onto your lips. You moan against his lips as his hands work magic upon you, his kisses sweet and tender in comparison to the actions of his fingers. 

You feel yourself begin to unravel against his hand as your breath heaves, your voice becoming uncontrollable as he pleasures you. 

“Don’t cum,” Matt whispers against your lips, his fingers ravenous inside of you as he continues to kiss you, his lips trailing to your neck. You moan as he sucks at your neck, his smile apparent as it nips slightly at your skin. 

“I want you to beg me.”

Your heart races, the drum echoing in your ears as your fingers grasp to the sheets of his bed. “Please,” you whisper, the plea escaping your lips before you can hold it back.

The sensation of your pleasure is almost overwhelming and the world around you seems silent, as if it is only you and Matt now. “Just let me.” You beg, the words barely forming as they slip out, your back arching as you feel his lips detach from their spot on your neck where there is now a beautiful red hue. 

“Good girl, more or I stop.”

Your voice trembles with longing as his fingers slow inside of you. “Please Matt,” you whine. 

He nods, his face moving in front of you so that he can see your every expression. “Tell me what you want to do baby.”

You lie back on his sheets as you moan, your voice desperate, “Please let me cum, Matt.”

Matt smiles, his fingers moving faster to rub at your clit and press at your g-spot. He smiles at you, urging you to cum for him. 

“Come for me. You can do it.. please baby.” The moment after he finishes speaking, everything fades away as you come on Matt’s fingers. The sounds, the lights, all of your worried thoughts, all of it is replaced with sensation and the look of love in Matt’s eyes.

He lets out a gentle laugh, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. Matt presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers slipping out of you. You watch as his tongue slides over his teeth as he smiles, bringing his hands up to his mouth, licking your juices off of his fingers. Without warning, that same hand reaches down to hold your neck; his fingers flexing against the skin of your neck as his lips find yours.

Moaning into each others mouths, you feel his smile through the warm kiss and you feel the tightening grip of his on your neck.

"Look at you... so ruined because of me.."

Your legs are shaking, your breath hoarse and wrapped with pleasure. His hands tug once more on your dress, sliding it finally up and over your arms, leaving your entire body exposed as he throws it onto the floor. You moan as the cold air gushes against your body, goosebumps appearing on your arms, your legs, your tits.

Matt's eyes mirror extreme concentration and patience as he smiles down at you, his hands reaching to find yours.

"turn around for me, slut."

Obeying, you turn over to lay on your stomach. His hands find your legs and instantly he urges your abdomen up, your knees planted on the bed.

"good girl, put your pretty head down.." You put your head down, your eyes closing as you press your face into his pillow. Your eyes are closed, yet you feel everything. You can feel the grip he places on your wrists and the sound of fabric twisting as he takes off his tank top, within in instant you feel pressure against your wrists as Matt starts to tie the fabric from his shirt around them, connecting the makeshift rope to his headboard.

You feel his position change, as he moves to stand right behind you. His warm cock pressing against your thigh, his arms moving to hold onto your hips, lazily tracing down your thigh.

"Is there something that you want?" He murmurs, his hands grabbing his dick only to rub it against your entrance. You moan, your hips gravitating backwards in hopes that he will give you what you want.

Knowing that you don't want to ask, Matt's hand leaves it's place from your leg and moves up to your thigh, smacking it.

You lie there, bound and exposed to him, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel his warmth and strength against you as he looms over your back, his gaze dark and hungry. You squirm and moan softly as he teases you mercilessly, driving you closer to the edge without giving you release, without giving you the satisfaction of his cock plunging inside of you.

Matt sighs, "I think you know that you need to ask."

"Tell me, what do you want from me," He urges, his hips rocking slowly just so that his tip presses into you.

Your voice trembles as you speak, the words barely above a whisper. "I want...I want you to take me." The admission is like a dam breaking, and you feel a rush of shame and desire mixed together the second those words leave your mouth.

Matt's hips press closer, his tip teasing your entrance, making you shudder with need. "No, that's not what I want to hear," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to hear you ask for it. Ask me to fuck you."

His words leave sparks throughout your whole body, your face turns flush as you bury your face into his pillows. You feel your face burn with shame, but you can't help the words that spill out of your mouth. "Please fuck me," you say, your voice barely breaking a whisper.

Matt's hips press harder against you, and you feel his tip enter you from behind. You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with pleasure.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and approving. He thrusts into you, slowly, savoring the feeling of your tightness around him.

The room is filled with the sound of your mixed heavy breathing, the slapping of his skin against yours. You can feel every bit of tension building inside of you, every ounce of pleasure coiling tighter and tighter with every movement.

With a growl, Matt's thrusts grow more powerful, driving deeper into you with each stroke. His hands grip your hips with bruising force, leaving marks on your skin as he pulls your hips back against him.

"You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I fuck you like this."

He digs his fingers into your soft skin, eliciting a gasp from you.

"You're mine, all mine."

"Ah, yeah... you're so tight," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. He pauses for a moment, his cock buried deep within you, and you can feel his pulse throbbing through his shaft. "You feel so good," he continues, his voice dripping with desire. "I'm going to make you feel so good but so bad, all at the same time."

He pulls back, his cock almost slipping out of you, before slamming back in with a force that makes you gasp. Your hands, tied to the headboard, strain against the restraints as you try to brace yourself against the impact of him slamming into you.

"You like it rough, don't you, baby?"

His thrusts grow more deliberate, his hips slow their pace and he pulls out of you, slowly. You feel his cock slide out of your warmth, leaving you empty and wanting.

"Please," you beg, your voice soft and quiet in comparison to your heavy breathing. "Please Matt, I need you inside of me.

He smirks, his hand reaching down to stroke his cock. "You want it that badly?" he asks, his voice dripping with amusement.

You nod into the pillow, a plea escaping your lips, causing him to chuckle.

"Then beg for it."

"Please... I want it. I need it." Your voice cracks on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as his smirk widens.

Matt chuckles as he slides his cock teasingly against your warmth, his voice like velvet,"Tell me you need me; tell me you're sorry."

Your voice trembles as you whisper the words, "I need you... I'm sorry." The apology feels like acid on your tongue, the guilt tricking down throughout your body.

Within an instant, you can almost hear him smile as his shaft inches deeper and deeper into you, the pleasure overriding any sense of guilt.

His hips begin to move in a slow, deep rhythm, each thrust sending shivers down your spine. Your body arches, attempting to meet his, but he holds you firm, his hands grasping your hips in an effort to hold you still.

The pleasure is almost overwhelming, and you feel your body begin to tremble, your muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that's building inside you. You listen closely as you hear Matt groan as he pounds into you,"You're so sorry, aren't you?"

Matt's words drip with sadistic pleasure, as he hears you moan about how sorry you are, his thrusts growing more and more intense. The sensation feeling as if your body is on fire, allowing your mouth to fall open and your eyes to close in pleasure as he ruins you.

Without breaking his pattern, Matt reaches over to the side of the bed, grabbing a sleek device, already wet with your juices. He chuckles as he clicks the wand on, placing it under you right on your clit.

The vibrations dance against your pussy, the vibration toying at your clit as he pushes it harder and harder into you.

As the vibrations intensify, Matt doesn't slow his movements inside of you. His voice, low and husky instead, offers urgent encouragement, "Come for me, baby... let go.. I can feel you trembling on that cock, so close for me.."

"Come for me like a slut, scream for me and show me how sorry you are baby.."

Your back arches up into the air, the sensation of the wand against your clit and his thick cock filling your pussy is too much for you, as you shake around his cock uncontrollably, grasping onto the cloth securing you to the headboard.

"I can feel you trembling on my cock, so close… don't hold back, just let it happen."

The intense pleasure is overwhelming, and your body can't help but respond to the sensations. The wand's vibrations against your clit, combined with the feeling of his thick cock inside you, is pushing you over the edge. Your back continues to arch, and your muscles tense as you tremble around him, the cloth securing you to the headboard digging into your skin. The sound of his voice, urging you to let go, only adds to the excitement, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

"good girl, do it for me."

Your body convulses in intense waves of pleasure, the muscles in your pussy clenching and unclenching around his cock, driving him mad. You moan as your body shutters around him, your legs trembling as you finally reach your high, listening to Matt's moans, as well as your own labored breathing.

“sit there and look pretty while i fill up that pussy ma… yes..”

As you continue to tremble and convulse around him, he can't hold back any longer. With a deep groan, he thrusts his hips forward, dropping the wand onto the bed and burying his cock even deeper inside you. You feel his cock ache, his cum escaping, filling you so deep. His cock pulses and throbs inside of you, causing you to whimper helplessly as he empties his load into you.

Matt chuckles as he watches your body go limp on the bed, the knees that had once held your body up, buckling and resting on his silk sheets, unable to hold themselves up any longer.

“my special girl, you came so hard for me…mm.. look at that puffy pussy.” Matt smiles, reaching under you to toy at your clit one last time. He rubs you in slow circles, his fingers slick as he periodically plunges his fingers inside of you to retrieve his load buried in you, only to rub that warm semen on your clit.

You whimper as he does this, your hips arching up in an attempt to escape his touch. Chuckling, he smiles pulling his hand away from your folds.

Just as quickly, he is at your side untying your hands and throwing his shirt that had once bound them onto his floor.

"Move over, sleepy girl," he murmurs, his voice strained.

You move over on the bed, completely exhausted and he climbs in next to you, smiling as he moves his arms around you.

You can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the sound of your own thudding in your ears. He smiles again, brushing a strand of your hair from your eyes as he murmurs, "I missed you, I missed you, I missed you."

As Matt presses a kiss to your forehead, your eyes flutter open.

"Matt.. What I did, I thought I was doing it for you," you inhale, breathing deeply as you look at him in the eye. "I didn't want you to give up something so big, all for me.."

Matt's expression turns solemn as he meets your gaze, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. "Sweetheart, there's no giving up anything for you. Every decision I make, every choice, leads back to you."

"We have lots to talk about, and we will.. " He sighs, his hands holding you so tight, as if he is scared to let you go as he talks," but I need you to be with me. I need you to never make those decisions for me, but I do need you to make them with me."

You smile into his arms as he comforts you, kissing you on the top of your head, and promising you that forever in his eyes, is forever with you.

the cutie ending was needed, i need that romance in my life ᡣ𐭩

i am aware the whole “use your anger” move is not super creative but i'm just a girl and i hope you enjoyed regardless !

i look forward to posting here more, i have so many ideas however still figuring everything out !

[nownahc]

31/32 with Seungmin from skz. I’m thinking he does something embarrassing in front of reader, maybe trying to impress them? I imagine him being so shy when trying to flirt for some reason!

idiot | kim seungmin

seungmin x reader

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prompts list send in an ask to request

▶• ılıılıılılıılıılı. mr. angel by tommy newport

notes. i saw a post about someone booking a hotel room in another country and couldn't think of something else

warnings. none

prompts. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!”/“This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“This is by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

A few hours prior.

Seungmin was a wreck, opening closing the same application on his phone every few seconds, he sat on your couch waiting for you to come out of your room. After weeks of tucking his tail between his legs, and pushing the date of asking you out, this was finally it… or so he thought. The thing was, you didn’t know it was a date, in his defense, he had really thought that his demand of going out with you, just you two, was clear enough. Apparently, in between his blabbering and messy line delivery, you had mistaken this as a simple friendly hangout. Friendly. That word sent chills down his spine. How had you not realize that none of his feelings for you were just friendly? Sure, he was aloof most of the times, hell some might even think he despises your guts but, it was Seungmin and, anyone who was close to him, knew how his brain worked. He teases what he likes, bothers what he loves, and apparently, he’s also a huge mess when it comes to asking people out.

At least, where the first steps of this new adventure were far from perfect, he knew he had dealt with the entire organisation side of the final product flawlessly. He had managed, calls after a calls, to book you two a table at a nice restaurant that kept popping up online, with only praises and good reviews, nothing too expensive but the food was apparently excellent. Afterwards, he had planned two tickets for this new film you had been talking his ears off about. Really, everything was perfect, so perfect, he hoped you might realize that one doesn’t usually put this much effort in a simple friendly hangout.

Finally, you come out of your room, dressed casually, but by all hell, you could sport a patchwork of ugly cloths and he’d still be in awe of you. He tries to play it cool, nonchalant even as he guides you out of your place, leading you through the streets. Whereas you were relaxed and behaving as usual with him, his eyes kept glancing at his phone to make sure he took the right route to the restaurant… something was up though. It has now been 20 minutes that you’ve been walking, and you swore you passed by the same store twice already. You tried to ask him if it was the right way, but, poor Seungmin all nerves and anxiety kept affirming that he knew what he was doing when quite frankly, he didn’t know shit about why they hadn’t reached the restaurant yet.

At some point though, reason come back to him and he sits on a bench with you, desperately fidgeting with his phone to understand what the deal was. He doesn’t notice when you pull out your own phone out to type in the name of the restaurant. He does notice though when you bark out a short laugh.

“This is by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

He blinks twice as he looks at your side profile and he wishes that there wasn’t another stupid thing he had done, but it was useless now as you show him the screen of your phone, pointing to the address. Japan. He had booked a table for a restaurant, in Japan. Was the world against him this much or was he just plain stupid?

“What?” You can’t help but stiffle your laughter as Seungmin’s reaction adds in to the nonsense of the situation. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!” Seungmin is almost offended by your reaction as he furiously refresh the restaurant page, as if by magic the country would change. “And we were supposed to be in a restaurant right now, we don’t always get what we want.” This was perhaps, far more entertaining then if you had actually been in that restaurant. To see Seungmin like this, helpless and dumbfounded was funny in a way. “I swear, I checked a thousand times…” “Maybe you should have checked a thousand time and one more then.” He glares at you then, knowing you were just taking the situation lightly, as you should, it wasn’t even that big of deal but, he really hated himself for messing up everything from beginning to end.

Leaning back on the bench, he checks the tickets for the cinema too, if he had made a mistake for the restaurant reservation, he hopes he hadn’t made one for the movie theatre. What he sees on his screen is something he’ll never tell you. He had booked the film alright, simply, it was for the day before. Luckily his embarrassed tinted cheeks go unnoticed by you in the night as you turn to him, that damn smile still on your face. “So… What had you planned next then?” “Nothing… I planned nothing.” Seems like this dream date of his, have to be postponned.

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[propenseverbosity]

Honestly thank you for doing these, it's great to see people participating in the act of creation 🥺

Today I'm working on a prequel fic for my Rook! I love the Shadow Dragon backstory and wanted to add in my own twist to it.

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Minrathous was no Kirkwall, but the violence, anarchy, and blood magic that plagued Dock Town certainly reminded Varric of home. Petrichor from the near-permanent rainfall only barely managed to cover the scent of stale liquor and low tide.

He arrived at the Cobbled Swan around mid-day, as instructed by the letter he received from Maevaris. Her invitation mentioned nothing more than a casual lunch, but the concern on her face as Varric sat down across from her suggested otherwise.

“Well, this feels ominous…” Varric chuckled, attempting to mask his own worry. “What’s the matter?”

Mae glanced around the room to see if anyone was listening, before leaning in close to whisper, “Dorian is missing.”

Varric tried his best not to panic, but the fear in her eyes really wasn’t helping the situation. “What exactly do you mean by ‘missing’?”

“He was over in Nessus to investigate a potential slavery ring-”

“You let him do that alone?”

Mae rolled her eyes. “You know what he’s like. He refused to wait for backup. Said the longer he waited for the Magisterium to do their jobs, the longer those people would continue to suffer.” 

“Damn…” Varric breathed, knowing he was right. “Alright, when did you last hear from him?”

“A few days ago. He was supposed to contact me on the crystal once he was on his way back, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with him.” Mae reached for the thin silver chain that housed her own sending crystal, a teardrop-shaped aquamarine. “Last night, the crystal activated on its own, and I overheard some Venatori talking about leveraging a Magister for information on the Inquisitor.” she added, turning the gemstone over in her hands, as if waiting for Dorian’s voice to suddenly call out to her.

“I suppose that’s good news? In a way? It means they won’t just kill him.” Varric pointed out. “They’ll probably have him under heavy guard, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to smuggle him out of there. I’m on it.”

Mae shot him a stern look. “Varric, you already have your hands full with Solas.”

“Neve and Harding can handle things for a few days.” He argued, casually. "Besides, I could use a break."

“I have people we can send to get him back. I just thought you’d want to hear it from me first. We should let the Inquisitor know as well.”

“No way. If the Inquisitor finds out his husband is missing, all hell will break loose in the south. Whoever you're sending, I need to be there to make sure Sparkler comes home in one piece.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Mae asked.

“Hey, I love the kid, but he’s got too much of a soft spot for Tevinter mages.” Varric added, hoping to lighten the mood. “Seriously. If Aramil finds out what’s going on, he’ll drop everything to be here, and the Inquisition needs him a lot more than it needs me right now.”

“Fine.” she sighed. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Varric said, with a polite nod. “So, what’s our first move?”

“Come with me.” Mae said, as she stood up from the table. “I’ll introduce you to the Shadow Dragons.”

Good mystical morning, everyone!

It’s WIP Wednesday Thursday!

Just:

Reblog this post with a snippet of (one of) your current project(s) and I’ll reblog it again with commentary/encouragement !

It doesn’t need to be DA related, you can share whatever you want!

Very chill, no pressure at all! Hope you all are having fun writing/drawing/creating!

[mostly-natm]

A little teaser!

[pandaspwnz]

I just took my second shot of victoza/liraglutide after starting it yesterday and I'm still surprised that it doesn't hurt at all, because even though the needle is the tiniest goddamn thing it's still a needle, yknow? I figured yesterday at the hospital, when they taught me how to use it and it didn't hurt, it must have just been a fluke or like adrenaline from being nervous hid the pain, even to the point where the rest of the day I was a little nervous if I actually maybe didn't even penetrate my skin, but nope! Legitimately can't feel it at all, which is such a relief! I had the worst needle phobia when I was younger (specifically syringes) and while I've thankfully gotten past that with many years of medical issues forcing me to get blood tests, IV's etc, I was still nervous about if this would hurt, and if I'd be able to do it, but it doesn't and I can!

I hope that if anyone who has a needle phobia and needs victoza reads this (I'm assuming also ozempic needles are probably the same size but I have no way of knowing), that it might calm you a little, because it's really not bad at all, and when I say you can't feel it, I don't mean 'oh there's a baby pinch but it's not bad', I legit mean that I'm doing a double take and staring at where it's pressed into my skin to make sure the needle is actually in there because I cannot feel ANYTHING from it at all!

[stellardeer]

Yall ever think about how much is passed down between children that adults may be completely oblivious to.

Which goes for positive and negative things.

Like games that an older child taught to a younger one, who then taught it to another child below them the next year. There's plenty of stuff I remember doing that no adult ever taught me.

But that also goes for the bad parts of being young like bullying.

It's why it would be so hard to stop the cycle of bullying altogether. A 5th grader treats the 4th graders like they're all babies and they need to stop doing certain things and act a certain way, and the 4th graders don't like it but they internalize it so they end up doing the same thing to class below them a year later. Or high school seniors treating freshman like absolute dogshit just for being freshman, and they hate it so much but by the time they become seniors they think they've earned the right to do the same thing to the younger kids. So it repeats indefinitely.

And it's not even necessarily something that adults can intervene in if they don't know it's happening. They can give all the bullying PSAs they want and maybe they'll catch one individual act and punish it, but you would have to convince multiple generations of students to drop this behavior in order for it to truly disappear.

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

~

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

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[missdynamighttt]

fantasizing about bf! katsuki paying for his pretty little girlfriend's nails because he wants to spoil you rotten.

at first, you were reluctant to book an appointment because you didn't have the time or the money. however, your pro hero boyfriend was wealthy, insistent, and super fucking stubborn.

“woman, if it’s something you want, i’ll pay for it," katsuki says softly, enjoying the feeling of resting his chin on the top of your head.

you were currently cuddling on your shared bed in the apartment, one of those slow days where you both had nothing to do but relax in each others arms. "i can drive you there if its a problem. no big deal.”

"katsuki, i can't ask you to do that," you say, looking up at him. "its too much. i'll just buy press ons or something—"

katsuki’s face scrunches up in the disgust at the idea of you using those press ons. back when you just moved in a few months into the relationship, those damn press ons were always everywhere around the apartment.

and sometimes, it'd get awkward when you're digging your nails into his flesh, moaning softly around him as he thrusts into you but then you make him stop half-way because your nail fell from the bed.

it got to the point where he found one of them under the drawer where you kept your... toys, and he knew they had to go. it took you some convincing, so he wasn't about let his hard work die in vain now.

"fuck no. i ain’t letting you walk around wearin' that cheap ass shit again," he scowled at you. "and the hell you can’t ask me. you're not askin', i'm offerin.”

"i dunno, katsuki..." you bit your bottom lip, reluctant to accept. it was nice that your boyfriend wanted to treat you but you couldn't help but feel guilty. "i don't wanna bother you. i don't need it that much 'nyway. and you could just spend your money on.. well, other things."

"the only thing botherin' me is you being difficult," he pouts at you, leaning down to give your lips a soft peck. "so, sweets, shut up. just let me take care of you, alright?"

and you were grateful you let him take care of you as you admired your freshly done nails a few days later, the glossy finish catching the light perfectly. you couldn’t stop smiling, especially when you remembered telling your nail tech about katsuki and she told you: "girl, hes so doing this because hes gonna propose. please say yes, for the love of god!"

of course, you wanted to express your gratitude for him. and what better way to thank him by wrapping your hands around his cock, fingers lingering on his length, showing off your new nails to him?

"fuck," katsuki hisses, breath shallow as he looks down at you. "god, baby, you look so pretty like this..."

you were on your knees, only wearing his shirt and your panties as a hand jerks off his length. the other holds his hand, fingers intertwined as you mouthed at his cock. you licked on the throbbing, pink tip, sucking the precum out of him with a blissed out expression.

you almost looked like you were in a trance. and seeing you there, looking all pretty and disheveled like a succubus, never failed to make his cock hard.

"yeah?" you look up at him with smiling eyes, pulling away from his cock with a soft, wet pop, rubbing a thumb on his aching tip before flicking your tongue at it again.

katsuki can’t hold back the soft moan that leaves his lips, his head lolling back as he tries to keep his breathing under control. he groans, his hips bucking against your touch.“fuckin' hell, woman, yeah.. so pretty.. just like that..."

katsuki's hand tightens around yours, looking at your newly manicured nails. he lifts your hand up, admiring them. the glossy finish really does look so pretty on you.

“fuck. they look so beautiful,” he murmurs, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "look so beautiful wrapped around my cock..."

"thank you, baby.." you flush a little, your tongue swirling around his tip. "..really appreciate it, i do. hope this serves as a nice thank you.."

katsuki’s face is tinged with a faint blush, his expression softening at your words.

“no need to thank me, sweets. your happiness is all the thanks i need. but this— shit,” he lets out a low moan when you suck on his tip again. "this is always.. a nice surprise..”

"surprise?" you smile. "you didn't think i'd do this to you..." you lap up his tip in between words. "after being so nice to me?"

katsuki lets out a quiet laugh, “you wanted to make me feel good, sweets? yeah? that why you’re on your knees for me?”

he gives you a playful grin, watching as your hand continues to move over his cock. his free hand tucks a strand on hair in between your ears, cupping your cheek. “always my good girl..”

you flush with embarrassment, thighs clenching from his words. "shut up.. bet if i bought you something you like, you'd go down on me too..."

katsuki can’t help but bark out a laugh at your comment, the image of you buying him a gift and him then going down on you was an appealing thought. but. he grabs your chin and tilts it up, forcing you to look at him and slowing down the pace.

“oh, baby. i’d make you feel so good. i'd eat you out like you were my last meal."

he gestures for you to open your mouth, his thumb tugging down your chin. and when you do, he suddenly spits on your tongue. you felt strangely vulnerable, swallowing it as his thumb rubs your swollen lips.

"but no way you’re buying me shit. that’s my job. to spoil you," his eyes darken at the sight of you sucking on his thumb, roaming over the concave of your mouth.

embarassment rose to your cheeks as you looked up at him, feeling flustered. "but... i wanna spoil you too."

he lets out a low hiss, feeling the vibrations of your hum around his thumb. he pulls his thumb out, his hand coming down to grab your chin, leaning down to face you.

"don't even think about it, sweets. i'm not asking," he tilts his head at you with a pout. "if you so much as buy me a pack of gum, i’m going to take you on a trip to bali."

your eyes widened in surprise, not sure how to, and voice your concern. a trip to bali would be great, but you just wanted to give him something too. "isn't that... uhm, isn't that a bit much?"

"don't give a shit. just let me have this one, alright?" he sighs, looking down at you.

"i want to take care of you," katsuki stroked your cheek with his thumb, a small smile creeping onto his face. "i like seeing that smile on your face when i do. makes me happy."

you felt your heart almost burst, looking at him with what feels like so much affection. he was just showing you so much love, how could you not melt?

katsuki knew he was getting soft, clicking his tongue at you. he scoffs, rolls his eyes and squeezes your cheek. "your nails looks cute anyway. got that?"

you bit your lip. whats the worse he could do when you bought him something anyway? after a moment of contemplation, you nodded, katsuki's grin spreading across his lips.

"good. now, get up here and gimme a kiss."

you nodded again, your heart racing as you stood up and perched yourself on his lap, breath hitching when you feel his cock press against your damp panties before pulling him in for a gentle, but passionate kiss.

katsuki groans into the kiss as you straddle his lap, his hands immediately finding your hips and pressing you down against his bulge. you can feel how hard he is beneath you, whimpering as he deepens the kiss.

“such a pretty thing,” katsuki murmurs, feeling how wet you are against him, looking down at the heat of your arousals. “gettin' me this hard and still having this on…”

katsuki's finger tugs on your panties as he kisses you in between words. he fists his cock, and hits the fat tip against your panties, hissing softly from underneath you. "you're so fuckin' wet, sweets, and i've barely even touched you..."

"katsuki..." you whimper, whining as you feel the head of his cock against you, almost kissing your clit through your panties. "please... can't handle it anymore... please, j-just—"

katsuki lets out a soft growl, leaning into your shoulder to bite on the curve of the skin. you squeal when you feel his lips and teeth graze your shoulder, sinking into your flesh, just wanting more of him, whining his name.

"please what, baby?" he murmurs, kissing the skin he's bruised on you. "be a good girl and use your words."

"wanna.. say thank you," you gasp, slowly grinding yourself on him. "please... please, fuck me.. katsuki.."

katsuki grins against your skin. there she was. his needy little thing he loved so much, practically begging to be ruined.

you’re suddenly on your back, the couch cushion soft against your back.

“atta girl.. now we’re getting somewhere,” his hands are already on your shirt, roughly yanking it up. “you gonna be a good girl and do what i tell you?”

you nodded eagerly, breathless as you let him strip you. not like you wanted anything else anyway. you tug down hard on your panties, tossing them to the floor and leaving you naked, your soft skin hitting the cold air.

katsuki watches as you kick off your panties, clearly looking all too pleased. he shifts, his torso hovering above you and caging you in between the couch. one hand moves up to your chin, pinning you to the couch and forcing you to look at him.

“you’re gonna cum screaming my name, got it?”

you hold onto his back, nodding as you whine from underneath him, ready to take what he could give you.

and when your newly-manicured nails digged into his skin as he thrusts into you, hot red nail marks decorating his back, katsuki felt nothing but pure bliss.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[somnoir]

Bats and Phantoms - Part 5

Part 4 | Masterpost

Jason and Phantom

Danny has noticed a pattern ever since he punched the Joker to death.

He's lost multiple things over the course of the past few weeks. Once, his laptop was smashed to bits during an attack by Bane (he really should have Tucker reinforce all his electronics). The next day, there was a new Wayne tech laptop on his counter.

When he visited his favorite cafe, his usual orders were paid for the next month. The barista refused to tell him who bought his month's supply of Living Dead. She was smiling a little too much in his opinion (he'd have to ask Tucker for a background check on Chelsea now. He liked her, but damn him if she was working with the crime lord.)

Danny knows very well that Gothamites either mug people or get mugged. And yet for the entire time, he hasn't gone through that BS... At all. It's almost nice.

He's done his best not to get caught up with the Bats, except for the fucking Red Hood. He tries to stay low, knowing that the Bats—especially Batman—was very strict on his no-kill-rule. Red Hood in the other hand... Unfortunately, he can't escape the bastard if all he wants to do is follow Danny around and gift him the most random shit. But if he's gonna deal with the Red Hood, then he's going to use it for good.

In other words, he was going to let the man feed him with godly food that he'd never been able to have. Danny's a decent cook but the Red Hood was almost godly when it came to cooking.

"You're never gonna leave me alone?" Danny doesn't even turn away from his laptop once he hears Red Hood slip into his apartment, shamelessly crawling through his window. He's so fucking sure there's a bunch of containers in his arms or maybe a reusable bag, but there's a bunch of containers. Filled with food.

"Someone's gotta keep you fed." Red Hood softly hums, passing Danny from where he was sitting on his floor while his dry eyes were watching instruction videos. By this point, Hood might be playing Tetris in his fridge with the containers. (Danny hopes there's chicken in there)

He doesn't move, doesn't want to.

Red Hood pokes his cheek.

Danny grunts in reply.

His cheek is poked again.

He might just bite the guy's hand off.

"Go away."

"Eat and then sleep."

"Perish."

"C'mon now, darling. You gotta take a break or whatever the hell you're studying for will go away."

"I will stab you."

But apparently, Red Hood isn't intimidated by his threats, already picking out one of the containers, heating it up, and then proceeding to make Danny suffer from the scent of something chicken. He's so hungry, he's sleepy, but he has exams! He has deadlines! A part of him wanted this handsome and sexy crime lord to pamper him but he'd drown in that contaminated ecto (Lazarus) than admit it.

And then his laptop is confiscated by a crime lord. Danny suddenly finds himself sitting on the Red Hood's lap and being forced to eat. At least the man isn't feeding Danny himself.

He was just enjoying the chicken casserole, sleepily trying not to stab a fork into his mouth while Red Hood has his hands on Danny's waist, caressing and cooing at him to keep eating.

The next day, he wakes up in his bed, tucked in, and the scent of freshly made coffee from his kitchen.

(God, his siblings are going to make fun of him for this)

Jason likes Danny. He'd actually tell himself that he legitimately adores the tired and unhinged college student. He wants that crazy little shit like he's gonna blow up the world if he doesn't. Because he wasn't just Joker's killer. Danny Fenton unknowingly became Jason Todd's avenger, the one person to actually avenge the second Robin. And he's just...

The infatuation would have been almost selfish, if not for the fact that Jason grew to actually fall for Danny after making sure the young man was okay. He's done his best to keep Danny away from the Bats. He didn't need Batman fucking this up for him.

Danny was so... strange. In a good and endearing way. He was dedicated to his studies, and tried to live his life but helped when he could. He's seen Danny stop by crime alley a couple of times just to help feed the kids, just to hand over blankets and what seemed to be his old clothes that nobody would be wearing. He was kind, and brutal if he wanted to be. Aside from the Joker, Jason had witnessed Danny almost drown a man for trying to kidnap a meta child in the same alley. The bastard was left for dead but survived when someone dragged him out.

Oh, Jason was in love. Horrifically so.

Honestly, he was kinda screwed at this point.

He's pretty happy that he doesn't share a class with Danny. If he did, he might not be able to focus on the lecture knowing that the very thing that calms the pits inside him was so close. The possibility of getting lulled into sleep was pretty high. But their schedules didn't even align and he barely saw Danny on campus. But he'd be lying if he wasn't trying to catch a small glimpse of him.

It's one of those days that he doesn't try looking for Danny when he's got some papers for Lit. But this was different.

Riddler is a maniac, even when he tries to be harmless. Anyone who failed to solve his riddles sometimes got blown up. Gotham U ends up becoming one of his targets. Jason just so happens to be there, waiting, watching, unable to operate out of his suit. The Waynes were not the Bats. They tried not to be to keep their identities face.

He needed to keep everyone away. He needed to keep them safe, even as Jason Todd. Fuck.

Riddles. Riddler liked his riddles, plagued the city with them. Barbara's voice is in his ears immediately, reciting Riddlers gods damned questions.

"I hold dreams cast by the desperate and bold,

My heart is silver, my whispers cold.

I’ve seen generations, yet I do not age,

A quiet witness to joy, love, and rage.

Though rooted in stone, I endlessly flow,

Reflecting the sky and the world below.

Look beneath where wishes sleep,

There lies a secret, dark and deep.

What am I?" Babs' voice is shaky, just a bit before she's hardened steel in seconds.

Jason cursed under his breath, trying to figure out the riddle. They weren't stupid. They've done this before and Nygma's Riddles were hard just for them, especially Tim and Bruce. But even so, Jason was raised by Batman. He could do this.

The words were complex, the poetic nature was irksome. But Jason took just a couple more minutes before he's identifying the answer.

"A fucking fountain. Gotham U has three of those." Jason responds immediately, sucking in a deep breath as he quickly evacuates his classmates and urges them out the building. "East, north, and south."

"Red Robin and Orphan en route to the south fountain. Robin and Nightwing to the east." Oracle quickly says, "Batman to north. Signal and Spoiler are evacuating everyone from the building. Hood, get out of there—now!"

No can do, Babs, he thinks to himself and goes running to the northern part of the campus. Batman can't do shit alone, even if he insists on it. They've learned not to let him.

He arrives before Batman, already rummaging through the fountain for the fucking bomb. If it was beneath the fountain then he'd have to destroy it, but if it was already attached to the water? Shit.

One second later, he's trying to find anything to destroy the cement, and then another passed. Jason is staring at a strange young man, white hair, green eyes—it reminds him of the descriptions of Wraith and Specter that Damian and Dick repeated. He blinks, meeting eyes with the maybe Ghost Hero. He flinched, looking into glowing Lazarus—a purer hue—eyes. "The bombs under the fountain?"

"Uh... Yes!"

The ghost nodded, phasing his hands through the fountain and a second later, he's dragging out a bomb. Fuck, it only had ten seconds to spare. Both of them stared at it, wide eyed as they panic on what to do. But the stranger doesn't seem to pay too much attention and proceeds to swallow the bomb.

"WHAT THE FUCK—"

An explosion—muffled and small—boomed through the courtyard and Jason stared at the smoke and flames covering the ghosts head. A coughing fit is heard through the smoke and the stranger is waving it away, whining about the horrible taste of burnt food.

Lazarus eyes look back at him, blinking before offering Jason a radiant smile. "Sorry about that! I'm Phantom, by the way. Was just passing by when I heard about the bomb." He offers Jason a hand, still smiling.

"Oh, uhm... Any relations to Specter?" Jason immediately asks, trying not to die from his own stupidity. Way to go Jay, immediately interrogating another guy that makes the pits all mushy and warm.

Fuck, fuck fuck. Was he going to fall for everyone that calms the pits? Fuck, he didn't want to cheat on Danny (Jayyoudelusionalidiotyou'renotevendating.)

Phantom tilts his head, before he's laughing loudly. "You've met my little sister?"

"No, but she saved my brother from a kidnapping."

"Is that so?" Phantom smiled, clearly amused. "Well then, I must bid you adieu. I can see that your city's knight has this all handled."

Just then, Batman drops just behind Jason. DAMNIT, B! GO AWAY!

Phantom just glances at Batman, amused before he takes Jason's hand and pressed a light kiss to it. Cold lips pressed against his hand and he's immediately blue screening. Fucking shit, this was the exact same scene he's read in those books about the heroine getting saved by the mysterious man who'd later on be her sexy enemy/lover. FUCK!

Phantom goes back to speak, but all Jason heard were a couple of trills and chirps, a language he couldn't understand but... It felt familiar.

"Ȋ̵̢̨͍̹̺̼̜͉̳͍̮̠̯͙̤͈̥͔̰̤̐͐͜ͅ ̴̡̤͔̪̠̗̤͉͙͓̥̺̗̎͒͒̔̎̑̀̑͜͝w̷̧̖͍̝̹̤̪̞̭͎̞͓̟̪̗̱͕̑̃̃̓̀̔̀̆̋͒͛̂͜ͅi̴̧̢̧̡̡̩̻̗̬̦͉͎̮̠̤̬̪͇̖̦̘͚̟̪̠̠̪̣̪̖͇̤̣̱̪̺̩̘̼͐̇̂̂͛̿̀͗̃͑̔͋̈́̐̽̿́͊̃̄̿̄̊́̔͘̕͜͠͠͝ͅļ̴̨̢̢̨̡̢̫̘͍͉̞̝̙̹̘̜͎̩̟̰̹̙̟͉̳̯̹̫̼͉̬̯̼̪̖̿̒ḷ̸̨̱̫̣̪͖̤̩̖̮̙̋͛͆̓͜ ̴̨̨͉̩͉̠̖̖̫̠̬̥̮̲̦͙̦̜̱̺̠̫̤̫̐̑͂́̇̆̐̋͂̈́͘ş̷̛̘͎̬͙̖̜̞̗̣͍̲̒̎̈͋̄̄͛̑̈́́̌̐́͋̃͑͑̈͛͋́̂̂̂͂̈́̌̄͊͂́̓̆̎͑̕̚͝ȩ̶̛̝̮̳̭̘̪̰͚̗̖̪̤̟͊̃̐͛͆̄̀͊̄̓̒͝͠e̶̡̢̧̨̢̨̢̛̞̖̤̲̱̯̘͇̖̹͖̻̱̜̼̹̠͙̺̞̽͌̍͗̿̒̃̍̆̽̓͂͗̽̈́̀͝ͅ ̵̢͚͔̦̹͚̱̝̪̗̽̕͜ỷ̵̛̲̘̟̭̬̩͇͖̮̉͋̑̽͂͛̆͆͂̃͋̀̎̆̑͊̃͛̐́̄̊͗̄̾͋̈́̕͝ỏ̶̖̹̦̭̱͇͔̲̝̜̹̹̗̗̮̪̗̬̥̜͍͉̻̍̍̈́̓͊̍͑́̀̈̇̄̐͐̔͛͌̊̀́̈́̍͑͆͑͒̈́̅̌́̄̉́̇͐̒̈̍̀̎̽͝͠͠͝͝ư̴̢̡͕̯̱̫̗̠̪͓̻̜̪̣̞̟̩͎̗̜̹̯̮̱͎̳̖̹͙̖̬̖͕̙͔̲͊̾͂̓̓̀͆̂̏̀̅̀̉̉͊̈́̅̎̍̇͋̽̿̒̓͐̄͛͊̄̉̽̏͛̋̓͗̍̎̆̒̄̕͘̕͝͝͠ͅ ̷̦̰͈͒̀̆̓̈́͑̂́̇͌̑͒̿̐̈́̅͋̎̄̎͒́̒͒̈́͊͛̚̚͠͝͠͠n̷̢̢̦̟͎͚̹̜̜̞͇̝̲̦̻̩͖̦̮̅̌̔̌͛̅̐̈́̋͌̂͋̈̋̎̈́̈̾̊̊͌̽̿̂̐͆͂̌͐̅́̌̚̚ȩ̵̨̧͔͔̩̭̦͈̪̟͉̦͚̘͚̥̰̰͓͓̤͉̫̳̜̲̲̖̘̜̮̠͉̪̤̤̮̣̫̼͓̦̣̤͖̘̹̉͐͗͆͆̉̐̂̀̄͑͑̄̈̒̀̈̀̀̎͘͜ͅx̶̝̘̼̟̜͎̲̪͎̥̖̠̼̀́̎̔͂͂͐̀̓̓̾̏̅̀̌̐̌̀̑̆̃͝͠ţ̵̢̭̫̫͇̟̣͓̲̦̩͉̞̞̳̬̞̘̙͈͓͈̺̱̮̮̘̠̤͔͍̼̼̳̳̳̦̼̣̼̹͍́͐̍͒͆̎͒͊̊̎͛͑̅̿͂̀̍̎͐́̋͛͗͗́̄͒̾͒͆̏̀̀̽͑͌̓͗̚͝͠͠͠ͅͅͅ ̷̨̧̡̮̝̜̟̠̦̳̼̝̭͖̭͚͎̦͕̦̩̺͓̺͚͈̺̤͋͌̔̏̒̾̓̈̅̃̑̏̓̂̚̚͜͝t̸̛̳̯̻͙̼̳̤͎̦̙̟͌̊͋͐̐͊́̑̈̽̎̎̾͂̓̉͆͗̐̇̏͋̕̚͝͝į̵̡̖̠̝̬̠̲̞̩̼͖̦̺͎͖̺͉̘̦̜̜̬͇̠̗̠̬̥͕̭̙̜̳͕̯͈͔̫̤̝̲̫̥͑̃͋̇̊̈́̍̈̉̑͛̈́͌̓̈̈̀̚͜͝͝͠͠ͅm̸̡͓̦͗͗̉͗̒̈́̂̆̿͒́͆ȩ̷̡͍̙͇̫͖̣͙̝̣̣̻͕͈͍͎̣̹̟͓̲̔̀̎̓͘͘͘͠,̶̢̨̨̧̧̢̖͖̠̲̞̮̘̮͉̩͔̭͕̻̝̤͚̻̭̘͈̮̥͉͎͙̜̭̿̿̆̑͗̌̈̈́͛͋̂̑̆̄̈́͋̈͐̑̍̆͂͆̂̌̍̅͊̍̌̓͘̕͝͝ͅͅ ̷̦̦͚̞̖̖̗̎̋̐́̍̆̾̑̾́͌̔́̀̿̀̓̂͒͐̑̋͊̒̈̕Ȑ̴̢̢͉̟̠͍̲̠e̷̢̡̢̡̡̨̨̢̨̛̝̰̪̠̥̠͓͍͔̗̩̯̺͕̬̮̳͎̩͈̼͕͙̯̟̦̺̣̠̺͔̓̉̈́̈̀͋̂̂̈́̆͑̏̅͌̌̂̓́̐͒̈͒̅͊̀̑̂̿̐̂̒̆̓̂̐͗̚͜͝d̶̢̧̛͇̙̰̺͉͔̼̘̩̟͎̖̪̻͖̥̳̠̣̖͎͈͓̳̯̤̲͔̻̱̝̿̈́̆͛́͛̆̄͛͒̿̈̊̉̈́̆̃̒͋́̽̒͐̀̃̑̂̔̋̈́̍̀̀̐̅̄̇͝͠ ̴̡̡̧̡̟̥̟̝̮̟̘̯̺̳̗͚̮̭͍̘̰̭̹͈͈̱̦͎̝͍̺͎͕̼̝̼̝̦͋̾̏́̐̍͌̍̋͒̕͜͠ͅḨ̵̡̧̧̤͓̖̺̭͕͉̖̝̲̖̙̣̳͚͙͚͇̙̼̻͖̺̼͉͖̞̤̞̝̭̂͐̒̑̓͂̈́́̉̽̇̀́̌͂͑͜ͅͅǫ̶̨̢̧̳̠̱̻͉̦̳͚̜͓̭̯̳̘͕͎͍͖̟͖̹̞̤̘̣̖̰͓̙̩͍̻͖̘͚̠͕̗͍̮͙̼͍̪̰̾̂͌̓͗̃̀͗̈́̚ͅõ̸̧̨̡̢̧̡͎̺̭̬̼̱̟̝͔̲̣͖͍̭̜̣͔̠̗͍̯̣̬̮͚̔ͅd̸̡̹̠̹͍̝̜̍̈́̄̇͋̈́́̈́̈̎̎̀̉̍̎̔̋̒͒̔̒̇͐̀̀́͌̊̉̓͌̕.̴̛̛̛̫̹͍̯̟͓̒̀̈́̑̈̏̓͊̽̈́͊͗͒͌͌̏̌̔͌̏́̄͊͒̽̏̏̏͆̅̐͋̐̿̿́̐̈͐͗̊̏̔̚͜͜͝͝"

(Later on, Danny gets one hell of a tongue lashing from his siblings for eating a fucking bomb. At least Red Hood comes to visit with some dessert to make the flavor of bomb go away.)

[chithereader]

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

[vunblr]

A Heart in Hiding

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Wet Dream, Angst-Hurt/Comfort, Allusions to Hydra's Trash Party, Medical Experimentation, Panic Attack.

Summary: Caught between the shadows of his past and an unexpected connection, Bucky wrestles with his demons and his growing feelings for a new Avenger.

Word Count: About 13.k.

notes: This is a revised version of Unspoken. It's been a while since I wanted to edit this story, and fortunately, I found the time to do it during the holidays. I hope you enjoy it.

The halls of the Avengers Tower felt different lately, with a new energy. Y/n had been living there for a few months now, being the newest addition to the group, providing support both in the field and at the Tower itself. Her mutation was a rare one: healing. It had proven invaluable in SHIELD's eyes long before she joined the Avengers, who welcomed her gladly when Fury introduced her to the team.

Steve, ever the diplomat, had been the first to welcome her, offering his steady support with a warm smile and reassuring words. Natasha followed soon after, sharing subtle smirks and the occasional dry quip that made her feel like she belonged. Even Tony, in his typical way, wove her into his world of banter, bestowing her with nicknames almost the moment she walked through the door. The rest of the team? They warmed up quicker than she’d expected.

Except for Bucky.

It wasn’t that he was unfriendly, just... distant. She hadn’t taken it personally at first; he was Bucky Barnes, after all. The man known for his stoic glares, clipped words, and the heavy shadows of his past. Given everything he’d endured, who could blame him for keeping to himself?

In the beginning, their interactions were minimal, little more than practical exchanges during missions or brief moments in the common areas. A muttered “thanks” when she patched him up: a scrape on his nose here, a swollen cheekbone there. Silence charged with meaning when her hands worked carefully on his shoulder and chest, where the tissue around the metal arm often swelled or became irritated. She could feel his discomfort, both physical and emotional, though he never said a word. A shared half-smile over early morning coffee, when the world was still and sleeplessness bound them both. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it felt like the start of something.

Gradually, those fleeting moments began to take shape. He started lingering in the kitchen when she made tea, his quiet “Need help with that?” or “How was your day?” carried an unexpected softness. They began to talk, really talk. What started as cautious conversations grew into something deeper. Sometimes, he would seek her out, not because he needed anything, but simply to show her something: a stray white cat he’d spotted on a morning run, a book he thought she might like, or a new recipe he’d stumbled upon online.

For a while, they settled into an easy rhythm. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but it felt meaningful, a fragile connection that made her think something real might bloom between them.

But suddenly, everything changed.

At first, it was small: responses shortened to brief nods, his gaze slipping away when she spoke. The conversations dwindled. The moments of shared closeness became few and far between. His presence grew colder, his body language tighter, as though he was retreating behind the walls she’d thought he was beginning to lower.

It bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She wasn’t the type to let things fester, but with Bucky, every instinct she had seemed to falter. How did you confront someone who had mastered the art of retreating? Had she overstepped? Done something wrong? Every time she tried to bring it up -softly, carefully- he deflected with a grunt, a short answer, or a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

And every day, the distance between them widened.

-----

Bucky couldn’t pinpoint when things changed with her. At first, he appreciated how she treated him: no pity, no coddling, just simple, genuine conversations that made him feel, for once like a person, normal. For the first time in years, he found himself wanting to talk to someone besides Steve.

He welcomed it at first, the way her smile lingered a little longer when he mumbled a response, the warmth in her eyes during their shared moments. Their conversations became something he looked forward to, something he craved. But as the weeks passed, something else began to stir inside him. Something terrifying.

It wasn’t just gratitude for their growing friendship. No, this was deeper, more intense. Attraction. Wanting. And the more he felt it, the harder it became to face her.

Because every time he allowed himself to think about her, the guilt crashed over him like a wave he couldn’t outrun. She didn’t deserve the weight of his past or the darkness he carried. He had been the Winter Soldier for too long, a weapon of destruction in Hydra’s hands, leaving behind a long trail of pain and death. The faces of the people he’d hurt, and the trembling voices of those who had begged or screamed haunted him, etched into his mind like scars that would never fade.

And then there was the abuse, the kind he never spoke about. It wasn’t just physical; Hydra had taken everything from him: his freedom, his identity, his will. His body had been theirs to use, to break, to control. Late at night, he could still feel the ghost of their hands, the cold, clinical way they had stripped him of his humanity. The thought of it alone made him sick.

How could he even begin to think about her in that way? She was light and warmth, a reminder of all the good he no longer believed he deserved. And Bucky? He was a mess of scars, guilt, and trauma he hadn’t even begun to unpack.

So, he did what he always did when emotions threatened to overwhelm him: he shut them down. He stopped talking to her, stopped letting her get too close. It was easier to be cold and act indifferent than to deal with the storm of feelings inside him. It was better for her to think he didn’t care than to see how broken he really was.

-----

Things started to grow awkward -tense, even- during their group meetings before the missions. What once had been only indifference from Bucky turned into something sharper. It started with a sarcastic comment here or there, muttered under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. She tried to brush it off at first, assuming he was just being moody as usual. But when it became a pattern, when his remarks grew more pointed, more dismissive, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He had started suggesting in front of everyone, that she didn’t have to participate in certain missions.

"Maybe sit this one out," Bucky had said during the last briefing, his tone flat, eyes avoiding hers as he leaned back in his chair. "We don't need anyone getting in the way."

Her eyes narrowed, the heat of anger rising in her chest. She wasn’t new to dangerous missions and wasn’t some kind of rookie that everyone had to look after. And Bucky knew that. They all did. She had a support role, yes, but she had been in the field countless times before, proving her worth more than once not only to them but also to SHIELD. To have him throw those words at her -especially in front of the team- was humiliating. Infuriating.

"You don’t get to decide that, Barnes," she shot back sharply. "I’ve done just fine without your input."

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained cool. "Yeah, because healing a few cuts and bruises is the same as being in the thick of it."

Her fists clenched at her sides. "You think that’s all I do? Patch people up? I’ve been in more firefights than you can count, Barnes, and I’m still standing."

"That’s not the point," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he finally looked at her, with a hard expression. "I’m just saying, you’re better off hanging back. Let the people used to the danger to handle it."

Her eyes flared, fists clenching at her sides as she stepped forward. "Excuse me?! Used to the… I’ll show you danger, you-"

Before she could finish, Steve quickly stepped in, raising a hand to calm the rising tension. “Hey, hey, let’s all take a breath here,” he said firmly, trying to diffuse the situation. “We’ve got bigger things to focus on right now.”

A silent exchange passed between everyone present, but no one intervened. The air crackled with unspoken tension.

And this had become their new normal. Meetings had devolved into subtle jabs and snarky comebacks, with Bucky seemingly intent on pushing her buttons, while she fired back with increasingly sharp remarks. Each time he tried to brush her off or suggest she wasn’t needed, she fiercely stood her ground.

He couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t just about keeping her at arm’s length, it was fear. Fear of her getting hurt in the field, and, more than that, fear of how much he cared about the possibility. Every time she suited up for a mission, a painful knot twisted in his gut, one he couldn’t untangle no matter how hard he tried.

So, as a defense mechanism -more like a stubborn teenager than the grown man he was- he resorted to belittling her, hoping it would be enough to keep her out of harm’s way.

-----

Their sleeping quarters were close. Too close, sometimes.

One night, she was torn from sleep by the sound of muffled screams. Bucky. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard them, but tonight, they were louder, more desperate. She lay in bed for a long moment, listening to his struggle through the not-so-thin walls. She wanted to go back to sleep and tried to convince herself he’d eventually be fine. But the raw sound of his torment lingered in the mind, making it impossible for her to settle.

After an hour or so had passed, and although everything was silent now, she realized the sleep wasn’t going to come back. With a quiet sigh, she got up and padded down the hall to the kitchen. Maybe some tea -and a piece of the achtzig schlag she baked that afternoon, whom was she kidding- would help, as small comfort to chase away the unease from being waked like that.

But when she reached her destiny, she stopped short. Bucky was already there.

He stood by the sink, barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, his broad back greeting her as she entered. His metal hand gripped the edge of the counter, while the other hung limply at his side with an empty glass loosely grabbed between his fingers. His head was bowed and his shoulders tense, as if the weight of the world rested there. She couldn’t tell if he’d noticed her presence, she could see his face reflected on the glass of the big window, but his gaze was fixed blankly on the sink, lost in whatever hell his nightmares had dragged him through.

For a moment, she hesitated. He barely spoke to her anymore, and when he did, he was a complete ass. But standing there, in the dim light of the kitchen, he didn’t look like his usual self. He looked... more than broken. Vulnerable. The heavy rise and fall of his chest, the slight tremor in his fingers, told her he hadn’t escaped his nightmare, not entirely.

“Bucky,” she called softly, reverting to his nickname, the one she hadn’t used in weeks. He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. Just kept staring into the sink as though it might offer some kind of solace he desperately needed.

She stood there, debating if she should leave him alone, letting him find his own way out of whatever haunted him, or stay. Something in the way he stood there, utterly still, as if frozen in time, made her choose the second option. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her comfy cotton nightgown, and she stepped closer.

“Bucky,” she said again, a bit louder.

This time, his shoulders tensed, the only sign he’d heard her. Slowly, he turned his head, just enough to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. His face was a mask of exhaustion, and shadows were carved deep under his eyes. There was a flash of something in his expression, maybe surprise, maybe frustration, but it faded quickly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Bucky turned back to the sink, exhaling heavily as if it took effort to breathe. "You’re up late," he muttered hoarsely, breaking the silence. He didn’t look at her.

"So are you," she replied, keeping her tone light despite the tension in the air. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but something told her he wouldn’t answer that. Instead, she moved to the stove, setting a kettle on to boil.

He remained silent, not moving from his spot. The awkwardness lingered between them, but she kept herself busy, preparing tea as if this was an everyday occurrence. Bucky stood there silently, while she pretended not to notice the storm brewing inside him.

She turned back to him as the kettle let out a soft whistle. “Want some?” she asked, holding two cups with a gentle smile. “I picked up a strawberry blend the other day. It’s really good.” The gesture was casual, the same as it had been just a couple of months ago, before everything started to shift.

For a long moment, there was no response. He stood there, staring into the sink as if he hadn’t heard her. Then, to her surprise, he gave a slight nod, the motion so subtle it almost wasn’t there. His eyes, still shadowed by whatever nightmares lingered from his sleep, flicked toward her but didn’t quite meet her gaze.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

She nodded, poured the tea, and placed one mug on the counter in front of him before leaning against it, cupping her own mug in her hands.

“Strawberry’s a weird choice for tea, right?” she asked, trying to keep things light. “I wasn’t sure about it at first, but it kinda grows on you. Tony said it smelled like candy.”

He didn’t answer, his eyes were fixed on the steaming cup in front of him, and his jaw was clenched tight. She smiled softly, hoping to ease the tension. “Steve liked it, too. He said it reminded him of-”

“Shut up.” His voice was low and sharp with frustration. “Just… shut up.” He whispered again.

The words hit her like a slap, and her smile faltered immediately. For a moment, she just stood there, unsure how to respond.

“Right,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze. “I’ll... leave you to it.”

She started to turn, deciding it was better to give him space, but before she could leave the kitchen, his voice stopped her.

“Wait.”

She paused, mid-step, and slowly turned back. Bucky wasn’t looking at her. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the cup of tea, his expression tight, conflicted.

“I... I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, a familiar gesture of discomfort, that this time it felt heavier. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You don’t deserve-”

He finally looked up, and his blue eyes were clouded with something raw. “I... had a nightmare,” he admitted, the words coming out slowly, as if they were too painful to say aloud. “One of the heavy ones.” His voice cracked on the last part, and for a moment, he seemed smaller, haunted.

She shifted slightly, watching the tension in his posture, on the way his fingers gripped the edge of the counter as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. She hesitated, but the concern pushed her forward. “Do you... want to talk about it?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched instantly, the muscle twitching as his eyes flicked away from hers, focusing again on the cup of tea. His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she thought he might snap at her again. But instead, there was only silence. A heavy, suffocating silence that told her everything she needed to know.

The dream still clung to him. It wasn’t just a memory, it was something darker, something visceral. In the back of his mind, the flashback played like a twisted reel. He remembered the cold steel table beneath his back, the harsh, sterile lights overhead. The sensation of the reinforced restraints biting into his skin. Voices around him, detached and clinical, as faceless scientists in white coats discussed the "procedure." A sharp pain had torn through his body, worse than anything he had felt before, as they tested the limits of his tissue regeneration. They cut deeper with each slice, watching his flesh heal itself in real-time, timing the speed of recovery as though he was no more than a lab rat.

He could still hear the sound of the blade cutting through muscle and bone and the smell of the antiseptic mixing with the coppery tang of blood. No anesthesia, it wasn’t needed. Bucky’s grip tightened on the counter and she saw the way his whole body tensed, the flicker of torment in his eyes that he tried to hide behind his blank expression.

She took a small step forward. “It’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it,” she said softly, offering him an out without pushing him further.

She hesitated, lingering on the dark circles under his eyes, and the exhaustion that etched into every line of his face. He looked like a man fighting a battle he couldn’t win, worn down by nights that stretched too long and memories that wouldn’t fade. She bit her lip, debating, before taking another small step forward.

“I could help… if you want. With the nightmares.”

Bucky furrowed his brow, snapping his eyes to hers. He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, she wondered if she’d pushed too far. The air between them grew heavier, thick with the weight of things left unsaid.

“I mean,” she added quickly, keeping her voice soft, “my powers... they don’t just work on physical injuries. I can soothe the mind too, if the person is willing. I could help you sleep.” Her words trailed off, unsure if this was what he wanted -or needed- to hear. She shifted slightly, glancing down before meeting his gaze again. “You look like you could use a break from it all, even if it’s just for a little while. You don’t have to keep carrying this alone.”

For a long moment, Bucky just stared at her. His posture was still tense, every muscle taut like he was bracing for an attack. She half-expected him to shut her down, to retreat behind that wall of silence and dismiss her with another biting comment. Instead, his expression softened ever so slightly, and the hardness in his eyes dimmed as he weighed her words. She saw the exhaustion behind the mask he always wore, the misery that had become his constant companion.

He swallowed hard, his voice rough and low when he finally spoke. “I don’t know if it’ll work,” he muttered. “Nothing’s worked before.”

Her heart clenched at his words, at the defeat in his tone. "We won’t know unless we try," she said softly, watching his reaction.Bucky’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then, with a reluctant sigh, he muttered, “Fine.” The word was gruff, a reluctant concession more than agreement. He glanced at her from under his brow, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks. "Just... don’t expect too much."

With that, he turned and led her toward his quarters.

Once the door was shut, she sat on the end of his double bed. "Alright. Lay down and rest your head on my thighs."

Bucky eyed her warily, tightening his jaw. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, this kind of intimacy. After a long moment, though, the exhaustion and lingering unease from the nightmare tugged at him too strongly. With a resigned sigh, he climbed onto the bed and lay on his side, hesitating briefly before resting his head on her thighs.

“There,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the soft fabric of her clothes. “Don’t think this means I’m letting my guard down completely.”

Despite his gruff tone, she could feel the weight of his weariness. His body was tense, but the warmth of her legs seemed to be doing its work already.

She began running her fingers gently through his hair. "That’s exactly what I need you to do," she whispered. "Don’t fight me, Bucky. Relax and let me take care of you."

He inhaled deeply, her scent filling his senses, calming him. The tension in his shoulders began to ebb away, though he stubbornly clung to a sliver of resistance. "I don’t need to be taken care of," he grumbled, even as his eyelids grew heavier.

“Whatever you say, hun,” she teased softly.

Bucky let out a low grunt, his eyes fluttering closed as her fingers traced soothing lines through his hair. The sensation sent calming waves through his body, unraveling his nerves one strand at a time. He didn’t have the energy to resist anymore, he was too drained from the nightmare, too tired of fighting his own mind.

"I’m not your hun..." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, despite himself. He buried his face deeper into her lap, inhaling her scent again. It was soothing, pulling him further from the chaos of his mind.

“Oh, shush,” she said, brushing the protest aside, still moving her fingers through his dark locks.

For once, Bucky complied. He fell silent, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat becoming the only sound in the room. The quiet, steady thump-thump echoed in his ears, an oddly comforting melody amidst the storm of his thoughts.

"Your heartbeat..." he murmured almost sleepy, "It’s kind of nice." The confession slipped out but for once, he didn’t regret it.

Her hand paused for a fraction of a second before resuming its gentle motion. “Oh? I’ve never heard that one before. Maybe because regular people can’t hear it without... closer contact.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips at her remark, but he didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he allowed himself to lean into her touch, the soft strokes through his scalp lulling him into a state of calm he hadn’t felt in a long time. His hand drifted almost unconsciously to her thigh, tracing small circles over her skin.

She continued her gentle ministrations, pouring her power into the touch. Slowly, bit by bit, Bucky’s muscles softened, and the weight of his nightmares slipped away as her presence guided him somewhere safe. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to feel it. The calm. The peace. The quiet.

-----

After a while she sighed, exhausted from using her powers to push against the weight of his severe trauma. Now, she had to figure out how to leave without waking him. He was sleeping deeply, his mind finally at peace after months of restless nights. Yet, despite his slumber, he wasn’t entirely defenseless. His subconscious remained alert, picking up on the slightest changes around him.

As she carefully prepared to slip away, Bucky's eyes flickered open, revealing half-lidded blue irises clouded with drowsiness. Without a word, his hand reached out, as if instinctively sensing her intention to leave. His grip was light but firm, curling his fingers on her thigh with an unconscious possessiveness.

"Shhh," she whispered, wincing internally as she resumed running her fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him back to sleep. She knew it was a lost battle; any attempt to leave would only rouse him further. Resigned, she reached for some unused pillows and cushions nearby, pulling them close as she reclined, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep while sitting up.

The rhythmic strokes of her fingers seemed to draw him back from the edge of wakefulness. Bucky nuzzled into her touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he settled back into a deep slumber. As she adjusted her position, using the pillows to support her back, he instinctively shifted with her, seeking out the warmth of her body. His arm wrapped loosely around her waist, pulling her closer as he mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

At some point, she fell asleep too, physically drained from using all her energy to ease his haunted mind. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to slumber was the weight of his head still resting on her lap, her hand gently tangled in his soft hair.

-----

Bucky stirred slightly in his sleep, brushing his nose against the soft fabric of her cotton nightie. Her scent filled the air around him, a mix of sweetness and warmth that seeped into his senses, pulling him deeper into the haze of his dreams. A low groan rumbled in his chest, reverberating through her thigh, dangerously close to her mound. His hand clenched reflexively, fingers digging into her leg without conscious thought.

In his dream state, his mind began to wander, unraveling the careful control he kept during his waking hours. Images of her flooded his thoughts, her curves, her laugh, the sense of safety she gave him. But beneath those tender, innocent thoughts stirred something he tried so hard to suppress: raw longing.

His breathing quickened as his subconscious registered the intimate contact, even as he remained lost in the depths of sleep. His hips twitched involuntarily, pressing his growing arousal into the mattress, seeking relief.

In his dream, she was there, waiting for him, glowing and inviting. He felt her softness under his hands, the curve of her waist beneath his fingers, and the way she melted into his touch. His lips brushed against her inner thighs, teasing, tasting, drawing out soft moans of pleasure that only made the fire inside him burn hotter.

In the real world, his hips twitched involuntarily, pressing against the mattress as his body sought relief. His chest heaved, and low, almost inaudible whimpers escaped his parted lips. Lost in the dream, he chased an elusive release, each shift and grind against the sheets a reflection of the ache deep within him.

And then, it all came crashing down.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly as his breath caught in his throat. Reality quickly surged forward, sweeping away the fantasy. The warm weight of her hand still rested gently on his head and her fingers tangled in his hair. She was peaceful, her chest rising and falling steadily, blissfully unaware of the storm he had just woken from.

His body went rigid and a flush crept up his neck, as the remnants of his dream lingered in his mind. Worse than that, was the sticky mess staining his underwear.

Fuck.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he extracted himself from her lap, careful not to disturb her. He rolled off the bed and landed heavily on his feet, moving stiffly with mortification. His hand instinctively moved to his groin, tugging his underwear slightly to reveal the copious evidence of his release. A low curse escaped his lips as he took in the sight, and shame heated his face. Without a second glance, he padded to the bathroom, humiliated.

Minutes later she stirred, feeling her legs lighter, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The memories of offering to soothe Bucky’s mind with her powers came back to her, along with the feeling of being trapped, unable to leave without waking him. But now, as she blinked and stretched, she realized he was gone. Her back and neck throbbed from the awkward position she had slept in, so she slowly got up from his bed and took the opportunity to return to her own room, crawling into her bed to continue sleeping, unaware of the events that transpired before she awoke.

Meanwhile, Bucky remained in the bathroom, leaning heavily against the sink. A storm of guilt, shame, and relief swirled inside him. Guilt for what had happened so close to her, shame at the explicit nature of his dream, and relief that he’d managed to sneak away without waking her. He buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his temples, trying to shake off the lingering echoes of the fantasy that had caught him off guard so thoroughly.

------

They didn’t cross paths during the day, except late in the afternoon when Tony handed Natasha some VIP invitations to a charity event for her and Y/n. Bucky was sitting across the room on the couch, but his enhanced hearing made it impossible not to overhear. Natasha has found it amusing to join in a bachelorette’s auction at the event and, naturally, she dragged the healer into it to help raise more funds.

When she entered the room, Bucky couldn’t help but steal glances at her and the vivid memories of his dream came rushing back. The black dress with a low neckline -and were those mesh stockings?- did nothing to dissipate the discomfort.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him, manspreading on the couch looking unsurprisingly grumpy. She walked over and plopped down next to him, leaning in slightly. “Hey,” she greeted chirpily. “I didn’t see you all day. Did you rest after our session? Any nightmares?”

Bucky’s frown deepened as he took in her revealing dress, and his gaze lingered for a second too long before flicking up to meet hers. “Well I actually had a nightmare.” he barked bitterly, narrowing his eyes as he turned away again.

“Oh Bucky, really?” she asked, absentmindedly resting her hand on his arm. “You seemed fine when I fell asleep... I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

He let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Fine? No, I wasn’t fucking fine,” he snapped. His eyes drifted down to the swell of her breasts, barely contained by the thin material of her dress, reigniting the memories of his dream and sending another wave of heat through his body. He scoffed, turning his head to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “Maybe you thought you did something, but you didn't. It was a waste of my time,” he muttered under his breath.

She recoiled, and her heart stung at his words. She’d felt the connection, sensed the calm that had washed over him during their session. She truly believed she’d helped. His harsh tone caught her off guard, and the hurt was unmistakable in her voice as she stood up abruptly.

“Oh, I see. We’re on square one again, where you treat me like shit. You know what Bucky? I’m tired of this. I don't know what your problem is, but I don't care anymore. Go fuck yourself.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and stormed toward the private quarters area, leaving him there, sitting in stunned silence.

------

The time to go to the charity event had arrived, and she and Natasha were all dressed up with the final touches, ready to be auctioned off in the playful bachelor and bachelorette game.

Tony, ever the social butterfly, was already acting as the host, ironing out the final details of the evening’s festivities. Steve, the ever-reliable friend and gentleman, had offered to tag along to ensure everything stayed civil and vanilla. Sam showed up at the last minute, his trademark grin plastered on his face. He winked at her and Natasha, flirting playfully and joking about bidding himself.

She smiled at his lightheartedness, but her attention kept drifting toward the couch across the room where Bucky sat, even if he had started to act like an asshole again. He’d been silent since they exchanged those heated words, barely looking up from his spot. His broad frame seemed more hunched than usual as if the weight of the night ahead was pressing down on him.

Sam, ever the instigator, swaggered over to where Bucky sat, giving him a playful nudge. “What’s up, Tinman? You look like you're about to blow a fuse,” he teased, not missing the tightness in Bucky’s jaw.

He didn’t respond immediately, flicking his eyes briefly toward Sam before dropping back down. He was clearly in no mood for jokes, but Sam wasn’t one to back down that easily.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know about this,” he added, grinning. “I left you, like, four texts reminding you about the event. Figured you might want to leave the grumpy soldier routine behind for one night.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “Yeah, I saw them,” he muttered under his breath. The truth was, the event had been gnawing at him all day. Seeing her walking in earlier, dressed to the nines, had stirred something deep and unsettling in him. Her sleek black dress with that low neckline, and those mesh stockings… he had barely been able to look at her without feeling a hot flush creep up his neck.

But it wasn’t just the sight of her that was bothering him. Something darker was creeping up from the edges of his memory, something happened a long time ago.

The room around him faded as a distant echo of laughter, sharp and malicious, filled his ears. He blinked, trying to shake it off, but the memories flooded back with unwanted details. He saw himself, chained and silent, paraded like an animal in front of an audience of Hydra’s elite. The “auction,” as they had called it, was a twisted form of entertainment where the highest bidder won him for the night. They'd done whatever they wanted to him. Their hands were rough and unforgiving, their words venomous. He’d been stripped of everything, even the ability to fight back. His mind replayed the worst moments, the feeling of hands on him, unwanted touches, and the physical pain when they decided to test his limits. Bucky remembered the smirks on their faces as they violated him in every way they saw fit, knowing he was powerless to retaliate. His body might heal, but his mind was left in tatters every time. He could still hear their voices, cruel and mocking, as they reminded him how easy it was to break him down, to own him.

Suddenly, he was back on the couch, his hands clenched into tight fists as his breathing quickened. His heart pounded in his chest, and he had to swallow down the bile rising in his throat. The memory of his dream from the night before twisted with these recollections, blurring the line between the past and present. Bucky had felt trapped then, just like he felt trapped now. And the thought of her being up there, in front of all those people, being "bought" for the night just for fun triggered him.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain still. It was irrational, he knew that. But the line between the past and the present blurred too easily for him sometimes, and the fear -no, the shame- of what he had endured at Hydra’s hands refused to let him breathe freely.

Sam smirked, unfazed by Bucky’s short response. “Don’t sweat it, man. You can just sit back and watch me win a date with one of these fine ladies tonight. I’m feeling lucky.” He flashed an exaggerated wink at the women, earning a raised eyebrow from Nat in return.

Tony clapped his hands, signaling that it was time to start heading out. As everyone began moving, Bucky remained glued to his spot on the couch.

Completely oblivious to the turmoil inside Bucky’s head, Sam leaned casually against the back of the couch, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he tried to coax his friend into joining them at the event. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, clearly seeing the tension but refusing to let Bucky sit it out. “What, you’re scared you can’t handle a little charity event?” he taunted, his tone light but with just enough edge to poke at Bucky’s pride. “Steve’s already going, and you know how much he loves playing the perfect gentleman. You really gonna let him be the only one representing the ‘old-timer squad’?” He smirked, knowing this tactic might work. “Thought you were tougher than that.”

Bucky huffed as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had to get over this shit, Sam won’t leave him alone, and… fuck, he had to man up.  “Fine,” he muttered under his breath, his voice was barely audible but enough for Sam to catch the reluctant agreement. “But don’t expect me to enjoy this.”

-----

The limo was packed, the air inside was thick with anticipation and, in Bucky’s case, a simmering sense of discomfort. She was squeezed up against the side of the car, her body brushing against his, while Sam sat across from them, legs casually sprawled out, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Well, look at us,” Sam said, stretching his arms out theatrically. “All dressed up for a fancy night out. Bucky, you clean up pretty well for a guy who spends most of his time brooding in corners.”

Bucky shot him a glare but didn’t bother to respond, focusing on keeping his breathing steady as her leg pressed against his. She had no idea how much that little contact was messing with his already frayed nerves. The warmth of her body beside him felt too familiar after what happened last night. He shifted slightly, trying to create some space, but it was impossible in the cramped space.

“Aw, come on, Buck,” Sam continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t tell me you’re still sulking about coming along. I mean, it’s for charity, man. And if anyone here knows how to be charitable, it’s you.” His grin widened as he leaned forward. “Especially when it comes to these two fine ladies.”

Steve, who sat beside Sam, chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his attention to them. “He’s right, though,” Steve said warmly. “You both are amazing women, but tonight you’re especially lovely.”

She blushed under Steve’s compliment, offering a playful smile in return. “Thanks, Stevie. But really, all credit goes to Nat here for dragging me into this.”

Natasha smirked, lounging next to Bucky in a striking red dress. “You’ll thank me later when we clean house in that bachelorette’s auction.”

Bucky, meanwhile, was doing his best to avoid looking directly at her. The black dress was more than enough to set him on edge, the low neckline and mesh stockings flashing in his peripheral vision like a neon sign, reminding him of the dream that wouldn’t leave him alone. He clenched his jaw and stared out the window, trying to focus on the passing streetlights instead.

“You good back there, man?” Sam teased again, noticing his tense posture. “You look like you’re about to crack a tooth.” he leaned back, crossing his arms with a cocky grin plastered across his face.

Bucky clenched his jaw harder and flexed his metal fingers, the soft whir of gears barely audible over Sam’s incessant teasing. “Keep talking, Sam,” he muttered in warning. See where that gets you.”

Sam wasn’t letting up. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen that look before. That’s the ‘I’ve got feelings but don’t know what to do with them’ look.” His grin widened, clearly enjoying how riled up Bucky was getting. “You worried someone’s gonna outbid you tonight?” he teased, relishing the tension. “Not that you could, you know, since you didn’t even sign up to participate.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He shot Sam a dangerous look but swallowed the sharp retort burning at the back of his throat. Sam had no idea how close to the truth he was coming, and the last thing Bucky wanted was for anyone -especially her- to figure it out.

She caught Sam’s teasing and frowned, flicking her gaze toward Bucky. She couldn’t miss how his whole body had gone rigid like he was just one wrong word away from snapping. Then it hit her. Considering the way he had been treating her -distant and cold like she barely existed- the only plausible explanation for Sam’s comments... Was he into Nat?

The thought dug deeper than she expected, feeling a sharp pang in her chest that she couldn’t ignore. She tried to brush it off, but it nagged her. She hesitated, sinking her teeth into her lower lip before leaning in slightly. Her voice came out edged with reluctant empathy. “Don’t mind him,” she muttered, only for Bucky’s ears. “I’m sure Nat will be fine.”

Bucky’s head snapped to her, surprise flashing in his eyes before quickly turning into something darker, stormier. She had no idea what was going on in his head, and the fact that she thought all this was about Natasha hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

“That’s not-” He stopped himself. There was no point in trying to explain, not here, not now, and certainly not with Sam hanging on every word. He let out a slow breath “Just drop it, okay?” he answered gruffly.

She blinked, startled by the rawness in his tone. If he wanted to be difficult, she could meet him halfway. “Fine,” she replied coolly. “Not like it’s any of my business anyway.” She leaned back, crossing her arms as if to physically distance herself, her eyes focusing on the passing city through the window.

Sam, sensing the tension in the air, raised his eyebrows but -for once- chose not to stir the pot further. He shot a questioning glance at Steve as if wordlessly asking, What’s going on here?

Steve caught Sam’s look and responded with a subtle shake of his head, his lips pressed into a thin, knowing line. His gaze flicked between Bucky and her, then back to Sam, silently conveying the message: Don’t push it. There was understanding in Steve’s eyes, whatever was going on with Bucky ran deeper than just nerves or irritation. His expression was clear: Give him space.

-----

Finally, the limo of awkwardness reached its destination, pulling up to the entrance of the lavish event. The tension inside was palpable, and everyone seemed eager to escape the cramped space. As soon as the doors opened, there was a collective sigh of relief as they stepped out into the open.

She practically bolted out of the car, and Natasha followed her with a smirk, clearly more amused than bothered by the tense ride. “Bathroom break?” she suggested, raising an eyebrow to her, who nodded gratefully. Together, they made their way toward the entrance, heels clicking softly on the pavement as they prepared to retouch their makeup and shake off the tension.

Meanwhile, the guys lagged, hanging around the entrance for a moment before stepping into the crowd of finely dressed people. The venue was swarming with posh elites, champagne flutes in hand, chatting in clusters that screamed wealth and sophistication. Bucky stuffed his hands into his pockets with stiff shoulders as he surveyed the sea of unfamiliar faces, feeling out of place and more than a little on edge.

Sam, ever the social butterfly, immediately started mingling, flashing his charming smile at a passing couple. "Nice place," he muttered to Steve, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. "Think Tony outdid himself this time?"

Steve gave a small nod, scanning the room for any sign of trouble, though it was more habit than genuine concern. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” he replied, though his attention drifted toward Bucky, who had slowly gravitated to the crowd's edge, looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

“Don’t disappear.” Sam called out, clapping him on the shoulder as he joined Steve in surveying the room. His grin was teasing, but light-hearted enough to let the tension from the limo ride dissipate.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, staying quiet but sticking close to the group as they moved into the crowd. He wasn’t in the mood for mingling, but he’d already made it this far.

The event officially kicked off with Tony taking the stage, with his usual confident grin plastered across his face. He grabbed the microphone and began his speech with his typical charm. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to an evening of generosity, glamour, and, let’s be honest, some good old-fashioned fun,” he announced, flashing a playful smirk. “Tonight’s about raising money for a great cause, but it wouldn’t be a true Stark event without a bit of spice, right?” The crowd chuckled, their champagne glasses shimmering under the soft lighting as they eagerly awaited the night’s entertainment.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Y/n emerged from the bathroom, looking radiant and refreshed. As they walked back toward the main hall, Tony’s voice echoed across the room. “And now, for the part you’ve all been waiting for: our very own bachelor auction! The first of the two events we have tonight! Get your wallets out and let’s start bidding, people! Remember, it’s for charity, but hey, you get to take home a prize for the night too,” he said with a wink, his tone playful but persuasive.

Nat looked at them, unimpressed. “I don’t know why the guys didn’t want to join, they would’ve wiped all wallets with only a wink”.

The stage lit up, and the male candidates for the auction stepped forward, each one more enthusiastic than the last. Tony, never one to miss a chance to stir up excitement, started hyping them up. “Look at these guys! We've got muscles, brains, and a whole lot of… charisma.” He pointed to one of the bachelors. “Ladies, I hear this one’s an excellent conversationalist... and check out those thighs! Perfect for sitting on, am I right?” The crowd erupted into laughter, but there was already a buzz as bids began flying.

She had been chuckling softly at Tony’s ridiculous commentary when she caught a glimpse of Bucky out of the corner of her eye. Something was off. He was standing rigidly, his jaw set in a hard line, and his gaze was locked onto the stage but somehow distant, as if he wasn’t there. His seemed pale, drawn tight in a way that made her stomach twist with concern.

As he stood there with his arms crossed, a sudden wave of nausea hit him. It started with the sound of Tony's playful words, the laughter in the crowd, and the sight of the men being paraded in front of eager eyes. All of it melted together into something darker, something far too familiar.

Without warning, his mind transported him again back to the past. The dim, suffocating atmosphere of one of the sickening Hydra parties. He could feel the cold bite of chains against his skin, the way they had displayed him like an object, barely clothed, barely human. He had been the prize, the thing to be won, over and over again, with leering eyes and depraved hands deciding his fate. The room around him started to warp, blurring as his vision tunneled. His heart rate spiked, and his breath quickened, chest tightening painfully.

Bucky’s grip on his own arms grew stronger, his metal fingers pressing into the flesh of his opposite arm so hard that he was bruising the enhanced skin. He tried to remind himself where he was, tried to tell himself that this was different. But the flood of memories was relentless, dragging him down into the depths of his trauma.

He could feel it, the sensation of being used, of having no agency. The faces of those who had taken pleasure in his pain flashed before his eyes. His breath came in short, ragged gasps and his body started trembling. Sweat prickled along his brow as his surroundings closed in on him, the chatter and laughter of the event fading into a distant, haunting echo.

Suddenly, the present broke through just enough for Bucky to realize he couldn’t breathe. Panic was closing in on him like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter. The telltale signs of an impending panic attack flared: his heart hammered in his chest, and the room seemed to spin out of control.

He pushed himself off the column. His movements were sharp, almost desperate, as he weaved through the crowd like a wounded animal seeking refuge. His breath was shallow as his steps quickened. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to escape the noise, the eyes, the memories. The room was suffocating, and every second spent in it felt like another piece of his soul was being ripped away. He made a break for the exit, his jaw was clenched so tight that his teeth hurt, but his mind focused on one thing: getting the fuck out.

Before she could fully register it, she saw him push off the column. His normally composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. Bucky’s face was contorted, and the shallow, rapid rise and fall of his chest gave him away. He was unraveling, right there in front of everyone.

Her own breath hitched as she watched him cut through the crowd with increasing urgency. His retreat was too quick, too desperate, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming tug of alarm.

Something was wrong, really wrong.

Without thinking, she stepped away from Natasha, focusing on the exit he had disappeared through. Her anger faded into the background, replaced by an unshakable need to make sure he was okay. There was something in the way he had bolted, something haunted. She speeded up, her heels clicking loudly against the floor as she headed toward the doors, scanning the surroundings, hoping she could find him before he disappeared completely. Maybe it was instinct or something else entirely, but she couldn’t let him go through whatever it was alone, not again.

Eventually, she pushed through the heavy ballroom doors, leaving the noise of laughter and clinking glasses behind her as she stepped into the quiet night air. The sudden shift in the atmosphere was jarring, the lively event inside faded into a dull hum, barely audible as she found herself standing in a meticulously manicured topiary garden. Tall, artfully shaped hedges loomed around her, casting long shadows under the moonlight, the only light coming from lanterns lining the stone pathway. She quickened her pace, rounding one hedge and then another, hoping to glimpse him. But the garden stretched on, and after a few minutes of searching, her stomach sank. Was he gone?

She bit her lip, frustrated and worried as she stood still for a moment, closing her eyes to listen, trying to tune in any sound beyond the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant murmur from the party. Nothing. The garden felt too large, too quiet. She sighed and started retreating inside when a movement caught her eye.

Just off to the side, almost hidden beneath the shadow of a thick, overgrown bush, she spotted a dark shape. Her heart stuttered as she stepped closer, the form coming into view. There, huddled in the dirt, with his back pressed against the stone wall, was Bucky. He looked utterly wrecked.

His blue suit was smeared with the mud formed in the recently watered soil, as though he’d been sitting there for a while. His hair, previously pulled back neatly into a bun, was disheveled, with loose strands clinging to his forehead and others tangled and tugged free as if he'd been pulling at it in desperation. His hands were fisted in the damp earth by his sides, and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. He didn’t move as she approached, didn’t even acknowledge her presence. It was as if he had retreated into himself, blending in with the shadows like he wanted to disappear entirely.

Her breath caught. If there were remnants of her initial anger, they melted away entirely now. What was left in its place was pure concern. She had never seen him like this, so broken, so raw.

“Bucky?” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she knelt, hesitating just a foot away. He didn’t respond, his eyes were fixed on the ground, and his breaths kept coming in shallow, uneven bursts. Her heart clenched. He was hiding not just physically, but emotionally too. He retreated into that dark place, one she had seen before, but never like this.

“Hey…” she tried again, with a gentle tone, trying to reach him through the fog of whatever nightmare gripping at him. “Bucky, it’s me.”

For a moment, he did nothing. He remained hunched, with his knuckles white from where his fists were clenched in the mud. But then, slowly, he blinked, and his gaze shifted ever so slightly toward her. The look in his eyes was a mixture of panic and shame, as though he didn’t want her to see him like this.

“It’s… I’m fine,” he croaked, though his voice betrayed the lie. He wasn’t fine. He was far from it.

She inched closer, hovering uncertainly, wanting to reach out but unsure if he’d pull away. “You’re not,” she said softly, locking her eyes on his. “You’re not fine, Bucky.”

He swallowed hard, his throat worked against the emotion he was trying to keep down. “Just… leave me alone, please,” he muttered, his voice thick with strain, like it took all of his strength to form the words. “I don’t… I can’t-” His breath hitched, and he turned his head away, curling inward even more as if trying to shield himself from her gaze.

Her heart ached. She couldn’t leave him here, sitting in the dirt, drowning in whatever demons had resurfaced tonight.

Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against his hand. He flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. Encouraged by the slight opening, she gently took his hand in hers, squeezing just enough to ground him.

“I know maybe I’m not the number one person you want to be with right now, but I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice firm but soft.

Bucky’s breath hitched, and his fingers twitched in her grip. He looked down at their joined hands as if struggling to process the kindness in her touch. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his shoulders slowly began to loosen, the rigid line of his back slightly relaxing.

She stayed quiet, giving him the space to come back from whatever dark place his mind had taken him to. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She could feel the weight of his unspoken turmoil pressing down on them both, but she didn’t let go, even when the minutes dragged on.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bucky let out a ragged breath. His voice, when it came, was low and hoarse. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”

Her lips pressed together. She could hear the self-loathing in his tone, the way he seemed to think he was a burden, something she shouldn’t have to deal with. “I couldn’t just leave you like that,” she said gently. “Not when I knew you were hurting.”

He winced at the word, like it physically pained him to admit that she was right. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, his eyes darting away, staring blankly at the ground.

“I don’t have to,” she countered, tightening her grip on his hand, as a quiet reassurance. “You don’t need to explain anything. I just…” She hesitated, then sighed softly. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. Because you’re not.”

Bucky’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, clearly fighting some internal battle. The vulnerability in his eyes was stark, a raw edge she wasn’t used to seeing in him. “I don’t deserve this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She frowned. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve, Bucky. Not when you have people who care about you.” Her tone softened as she met his gaze. “And I care about you. So, I’m here. Whether you like it or not.” Without waiting for him to respond, she lowered herself onto the dirt beside him, her dress immediately catching the mud, smearing across the delicate fabric, and her legs. Little branches snagged at her hairdo, but she didn’t care.

Bucky clenched his jaw at her words. After all the terrible things he'd done, he didn’t deserve her -her kindness, her care. How could anyone care for him after what he’d been made to do? But what mortified him more was how he’d been with her recently, pushing her away, when he knew his feelings for her were growing too strong to handle. He had been cold, cruel even, thinking it would be easier to keep his distance.

But here she was, not giving up on him. He felt his chest tighten with a tangle of guilt and longing. He didn’t deserve this.

And yet, he couldn’t deny the comfort her presence brought him. Slowly, he felt his body ease, his rigid frame relaxing slowly as her warmth seeped into him. His shoulder brushed hers, hesitantly at first, then stayed. This time, he didn’t fight it. He didn’t want to.

The warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, all felt soothing. He let himself be pulled into the comfort she offered, no longer caring if his attraction to her showed. It wasn’t like he could hide it now, or cared, anyway.

His trembling fingers, rough and scarred, brushed against her leg, just a light, accidental touch, but enough to send a shiver up his spine. He wasn’t sure if she noticed, but he did. And this time, he didn’t retreat.

Bucky’s breathing slowed and deepened, and his chest started to rise and fall in sync with hers. His head dipped slightly, not quite resting on her shoulder, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. His fingers shifted again, this time curling just slightly around her thigh. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it felt monumental to him. For once, he wasn’t recoiling, wasn’t hiding behind walls of shame and guilt. He was just… there, with her, feeling what he felt, even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

He glanced up at her again, and his blue eyes met hers. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t look away. His gaze lingered, searching for something, understanding, acceptance, maybe even something more. And what he found there, in her eyes, was enough to make the knot in his chest loosen just a little bit more.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t push him. And in that silence, in the simple act of being there for him, Bucky felt something shift inside him. Without thinking, he let out a soft sigh,  as his body shifted again, and he finally dipped his head to rest it lightly on her thighs. The movement was tentative as if he were bracing for her to pull away, to break the fragile moment. But she didn’t flinch. She didn’t move. She stayed right there, solid and steady, grounding him once again.

When he fully rested his head, her fingers found his hair almost instinctively, gently threading through his disheveled locks. The touch was soft, soothing, and familiar, much like the night before when she had used her healing powers to ease his nightmares. But this time, she didn’t channel any of her energy into him, at least, not yet.

For a few minutes, she simply caressed his hair, her fingertips brushing lightly against his scalp, tracing calming patterns. Bucky’s tense muscles began to relax further, and his body sank into the comfort of her touch. It was grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

After a while, her fingers paused in his hair. Her voice was soft, hesitant but caring as she asked, “Do you want me to…?” There was no pressure in her words, only a quiet offer, giving him the choice.

Bucky was silent for a long moment, his body still against her, but the tension returned to his shoulders, subtle but unmistakable. He knew what she meant, what she could do for him if he let her. He shook his head once, slowly, almost reluctantly. “No,” he whispered, “I… I need to feel this,” he added, his voice rough but steady. “I can’t run from it every time.” It was difficult to say, but he meant it. Then, she let her hand continue to stroke his hair softly, offering comfort in the simplest way possible. She respected his decision, knowing how much strength it took for him to face these demons on his own terms. “I’m still here,” she whispered, while her touch never faltered. “If you ever need me.”

Bucky didn’t respond with words, but he relaxed against her once again, his body yielding to the quiet, unspoken understanding between them. Even without her powers, the weight of her presence was enough for him to hold on.

-----

Eventually, the quiet that had settled between them started to fade, replaced by the creeping awareness that they couldn’t stay huddled in the garden forever. The world beyond their little bubble -the event, the people, the expectations- slowly edged its way back into their consciousness.

She shifted slightly, pausing her fingers in Bucky’s hair as she glanced around. The faint buzz of the distant crowd could still be heard from the ballroom, and the glow of lights from the building cast long shadows across the topiary.

“We should… probably get out of here,” she whispered reluctantly, breaking the comforting silence.

Bucky didn’t move immediately. His head still rested on her lap, as if he could will the world away for just a little longer. But eventually, with a low sigh, he pushed himself up, raking a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah. We can’t… be seen like this,” he muttered, gazing at the mud-streaked ruins of his suit.

She glanced down at herself and grimaced. “I look like I’ve been rolling around in the dirt with you,” she teased softly, brushing at her dress, though the stubborn stains refused to budge.

The topiary garden felt worlds away from the glittering ballroom, but their predicament remained clear: how were they going to make it back to the compound without being seen? They exchanged a glance, an unspoken acknowledgment of the absurdity of it all, just as the crunch of footsteps on gravel reached their ears.

They barely had time to react before Sam appeared from behind a meticulously trimmed hedge, coming to an abrupt stop in his tracks when he saw them. His eyes widened, taking in the sight of both of them covered in dirt, hair wild with sticks on it, and rumpled clothes. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, leaning against the nearby wall as his smirk grew wider by the second. “Well, well, well,” he drawled out, clearly enjoying the scene. “Looks like somebody took ‘blending in’ a little too seriously.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Honestly, I don't even wanna know what y’all were up to, but good luck explaining that to the rest of the team.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Sam held up a hand. “Nope, no explanations needed. You two look guilty enough as it is.” He winked and gestured behind him. “But seriously, you might wanna get out before Steve or Nat see you. Unless you wanna be the talk for the next month in the compound.”

Bucky cursed in frustration, rerunning a hand through his already messed up hair, making it even worse. Beside him, she winced internally, knowing they looked like a pair of absolute messes.

“Sam, got any ideas for getting us out of here discreetly?” she asked with a groan.

Sam didn’t miss a beat, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Discretion? Yeah… you two in the bushes covered in dirt totally screams discretion.” His grin widened as he glanced between them. “But sure, I can help. Just let me figure out how to sneak out two people who look like they’ve been rolling around in the mud like… well, you know, two horny teenagers.”

She felt her face heating as she shot a horrified look at Sam. “No, that’s not-” she started, but his laughter cut her off.

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just messing with you,” he said, winking at her. “But seriously, you two need to work on your subtlety if you’re gonna sneak off for some ‘alone time.’”

If looks could kill, Sam would’ve been obliterated on the spot by Bucky’s death glare. His fists clenched at his sides, and his voice was a dangerous growl. “Shut it, Wilson. Unless you wanna be the next thing that ends up in the bushes.”

Sam just raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright! Chill, Tinman. I’m just saying, you gotta work on your cover story for when you walk back in looking like that.”

She wanted to disappear into the ground, mortified. But Sam, as always, had an answer. “Tell you what,” he said, slapping Bucky on the back. “I’ll create a distraction. You two sneak around the back, and I’ll make sure no one’s looking when you head out.” he shook his head, clearly relishing the moment. "But I gotta say, this is one hell of a way to ditch a party," he quipped, waggling his eyebrows mischievously. "mud wrestling, hm?"

She groaned, burying her face in her hands while Bucky shot him a withering glare, muttering another string of curses under his breath.

“Next time, let’s stick to indoor adventures, shall we? He added, flashing a grin. Before either of them could respond, Sam turned on his heel. "I'll think of something," he called over his shoulder, already planning his grand distraction.

------

The night was still and the distant hum of the city was barely audible as Bucky and her walked along the deserted road. The event had been settled on the outskirts, far enough from the city that they had no choice but to hoof it for a while. Neither of them had spoken since Sam’s grand distraction allowed them to slip out unnoticed, both too absorbed in their own thoughts.

He walked a few steps ahead, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as if trying to make himself smaller.

The silence stretched on, heavy but not uncomfortable. Eventually, she huffed softly, the heels she’d stubbornly kept on finally becoming too much. Without a word, she stopped, bending to slip them off. "God, that’s better," she muttered, dangling the shoes by their straps before picking up the pace again to catch up with Bucky.

His gaze focused on her for a moment -disheveled, dirty, barefooted-. She was a mess, and the tension in his chest twisted painfully, and the guilt crept into his mind again, not only because of how he had treated her but also from what transpired that night.

Without saying a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and gently placed it around her shoulders. Her skimpy dress had been fine for the party but wasn’t doing much to protect her now.

She looked up at him, with a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she accepted the jacket, sliding her arms into the oversized sleeves. The fabric was heavy, enveloping her in warmth, the sleeves hung so long that only the tips of her fingers peeked out. As she adjusted the jacket, she took in his scent, subtle notes of cedar and leather. It was distinctly Bucky, and she liked it.

“It’s warm... thanks,” she murmured. Despite everything, she couldn’t help but enjoy the comfort of his presence wrapped around her, even if only through the fabric of his jacket.

He kept his gaze straight ahead. After a beat, finally, he broke the silence. “I’m sorry you missed the event because of me,” he said softly.

Her steps faltered slightly, tightening her fingers around the sleeves. She hesitated before speaking, biting her lip as a bitter truth spilled out. “I’m sorry I’m not Natasha.” Bucky’s head whipped toward her, and for a moment, his guard slipped. She shook her head, exhaling sharply. “I should’ve sent her after you, instead of following you myself.”

Bucky frowned. That was the second time she brought up Nat. “Where did you even get that idea?”

She sighed, as her insecurities pushed her to finally explain. “Well, because of what Sam said on the limo. About you being all grumpy because you couldn’t bid in the auction.” She hesitated, and her voice wavered slightly. “I thought he meant... you wanted to bid on Natasha.”

Bucky cursed under his breath, with barely contained frustration. “Why the hell would you think that?”

She quirked a brow, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “What else was I supposed to think? You’ve been treating me like the plague, Bucky. Like you couldn’t stand to be around me.” She uncrossed her arms and ran a hand up and down through the strap of her dress, exhaling in frustration. “And then, when Sam made that joke, it just… fit, you know? it was obvious he was talking about Nat.” She glanced away, as if admitting it aloud somehow made her feel even smaller.

Bucky’s tensed his jaw, and a storm brewed behind his eyes as he stepped closer to her. “That’s not what’s going on. Not even close.”

“Then what is going on?” Her voice wavered as her hand fell to her side.

His hands clenched and unclenched, wrestling with the words he’d buried for so long. Fuck it. "It’s not Natasha," he said finally. "It’s you. It’s always been you."

She blinked, caught off guard. “Me?” The word came out barely above a whisper, soft and disbelieving. Her heart raced, pounding so loud she was sure he heard it.

Bucky’s gaze held hers, full of rawness as if saying the words had cost him more than he wanted to admit. "Yeah, you," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. "Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you? I… I didn’t know how to deal with it."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first, her heart still pounding hard as she tried to find her voice. “Honestly? From where I’m standing, I kind of thought you couldn’t stand me with the way you’ve been acting.”

Then, deciding she’d had enough of this back-and-forth, she gathered her courage. "Would it help," she began in a softer and more vulnerable tone "if I told you I like you too?"

Bucky froze. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions; hope, fear, and something close to desperation.

“I...” He dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t know how to answer that.” He paused, dropping his gaze to the ground before slowly lifting back to meet hers. “Part of me wants to tell you that’s what I’ve wanted to hear... for so damn long. But the other part...” His fists clenched at his sides. “I’ve got so much... so much shit I haven’t even begun to unpack. And I don’t wanna drag you into it. I’m damaged goods, and you deserve better than I can give. Shit, probably the only thing I can do right now is only take.

She stayed quiet for a moment, watching him wrestle with his emotions. Then she shook her head.  “I’m a grown woman, Bucky, and I’m very capable of making my own decisions. I’ve decided... I want to give us a try if you are ok with that.”

His expression shifted as he stared at her, “I don’t know how to do this.” he whispered. His heart was pounding, torn between fear and longing. He hesitantly hovered his dirty hand between them, and when she reached out and took it, the tension in his chest eased. “I can’t promise… I’ll be easy to deal with,” he added, so low his voice was barely audible.

“I’m not asking for easy, Buck,” she replied, gently squeezing his hand. “I’m asking for you.”

Something shifted in his chest. He felt the weight of all his fears and doubts, but her touch made it seem lighter somehow, like maybe he wasn’t as broken as he thought. Slowly, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it reached his eyes, softening the lines of exhaustion and pain that usually darkened his features. “Okay, let’s…” he murmured. He stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them, locking his eyes on hers. Her hand was still in his, warm, grounding and suddenly, without thinking -no more doubts, no more hesitation- he decided to man up.

In one swift, unguarded moment, he leaned in. His vibranium hand cupped the side of her face, brushing her cheek as he tilted her chin up. He paused just a heartbeat, his breath mingling with hers, before closing the distance. His lips found hers, soft but insistent, a kiss that spoke of everything he’d been too afraid to say. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was something deeper, something that tasted of hope, of taking a chance.

When they finally parted, his forehead came to rest gently against hers, their breaths still mingling in the cool night air. Neither of them spoke, the silence was more comforting than any words could be. His thumb absentmindedly brushed her cheek, and she leaned against his caress.

For a while, they just stood there, forehead to forehead, until Bucky felt her body tremble slightly against him. He frowned, realizing that despite his jacket draped over her shoulders, they were still out on a desolate road in the middle of the night, and she was dressed for a gala, not a walk through the cold. “You’re freezing,” he muttered, glancing down at her bare feet and legs showing under the hem of his suit.

“Nah, I’m fine,” she started, but her teeth chattered slightly, betraying her words.

Bucky raised a brow, unconvinced. “Come on, climb on my back,” he said, turning around and squatting slightly as if to make it easier for her.

“What?” she blinked, shaking her head. “No way, I can walk.”

He shot her an exasperated look. “I’m not asking, doll. It’s cold, and you’re barefoot. Besides,” he added with a teasing smirk, “I could probably run five miles with you on my back without breaking a sweat.”

She let out a reluctant laugh, still feeling self-conscious. “I don’t know, Bucky…”

“Seriously? I can bench-press a car, and you’re worried about a piggyback ride?” His grin widened, confidence oozing from his voice. “Come on, let me show off a little, after all the crap I put you through."

She hesitated but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, fine,” she sighed, giving in. “But if you drop me…”

“I won’t,” he cut in with a grin, glancing back at her over his shoulder. “Scout’s honor.”

With a roll of her eyes, she finally climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as his hands gripped her legs effortlessly. His warmth surrounded her instantly, and as she rested her chin on his shoulder, she felt her tension slowly melting away. Then a thought hit her, and she glanced down at her muddy legs. “Your shirt…” she muttered, a little hesitant. “It’s going to be a mess.”

Bucky didn’t even slow down, letting out a low chuckle, and his voice was a deep rumble she felt against her chest. “You think I care about the shirt?” He glanced over his shoulder, with mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Your thighs are around my waist. Pretty sure I’ve got more important things to think about.” She couldn’t help but blush at his cheeky remark and hid her face on his nape.

As they walked, Bucky’s steps slowed faintly, his gaze was fixed on the path ahead, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. “You really sure about this?” he asked softly. “Sitting in the mud with me while I’m falling apart… that’s not the kind of life I want for you.”

She rested her chin on his shoulder again, tightening her arms slightly around him. “I stood with you in the mud because I wanted to. No one forced me. And if that’s part of being with you, then I’ll deal with it. I’m not afraid of your mess.”

Bucky stayed silent momentarily, letting her words sink into his mind. His heart clenched, torn between the comfort of her closeness and the nagging doubt that never fully left him. “You say that now,” he muttered, “But it’s not always gonna be just mud. There’s… stuff I don’t even know how to talk about.”

She tightened her arms around him, brushing her lips against his ear. “Then don’t talk about it yet,” she replied softly. “Just... let me be here. Let me decide what I can handle.”

His throat tightened. The weight of her words felt both heavy and freeing, a strange contradiction he wasn’t sure how to process. “I’ve spent so long trying to push people away,” he admitted, “I don’t even know how to let someone in anymore.”

Her lips curved into a small, soft smile against his neck. “Good thing you’ve got time to figure it out, Buck. I’m not in a hurry.”

The path ahead was uncertain, messy, and strewn with shadows, but for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt that maybe he didn’t have to walk it alone.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics