#and also the panic of like. you’re staring at me. I’m staring at you. are we going to kiss. oh my god are we going to make out. I want to

[perlelune]

NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 

 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours. 

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown. 

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 

“P-President…” 

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong. 

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

#dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[bluebeary-jay]

Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

[wonustars]

𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ?

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 26.3k (im sorry)  𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+)

𖦹 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

��� summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate.  𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, stoner!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, forced proximity, joshua likes to try and keep jeonghan humble, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse and also a complete asshole in the beginning, joshua is a wise man when he gets high, there is lots of figting (like a lot), alludes to reader coming from wealth but not formally mentioned.

𖦹 note: THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR PATIENCE.. i'm sorry it took so long T-T fjhkajfhakf. I would like to thank my two beta-readers @gyuswhore and @drunk-on-dk. ILY GUYS THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR HELP, this fic really wouldn't be what it is now if it weren't for them. also tagging @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu and @highvern, cam was the one who gave me the idea for stoner!jh so everyone thank her hehe, they had to listen to me complain about this fic multiple times on discord... (ily all) 😢 i love this story a lot and i hope you will all enjoy it 🤗!! - anna ♡ p.s. 🇵🇭 anon if u see this... huwag mo susugurin yung bahay ko, ito na po hehehe 😁!

smut tags/warnings under the cut!

𖦹 smut tags: dom!jh, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, oral (f and m receiving), breast play, mutually intoxicated sex (weed), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, corruption kink, shotgunning, multiple smut scenes (3), jeonghan's a munch, petnames (for reader: baby, angel, sweetheart, princess/for jeonghan: hannie).

𖦹 warnings: mentions of neglectful parents, family trauma, verbal abuse is mentioned but nothing too bad, unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol, panic attacks, drug use (just weed, nothing crazy), if i miss any warnings or smut tags please let me know!

Prologue. 

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do. Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” he spits at you, eyes cold as ice. 

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad. You haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few minutes ago you were ready to start fresh, beginning a new semester at the university you transferred to from your hometown.

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest. 

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” he repeats himself, the fire in his eyes glinting against the light of the sun. 

“I’m sorry, I tripped and—” you begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your excuses. 

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me,” he seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks. 

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away. 

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt,” you scoff at him. Unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger. 

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you stained his clothes.  His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is?

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not leading anywhere. 

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes; he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful? 

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” he shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy. 

Little did you know it wasn’t going to be your last encounter with Yoon Jeonghan. 

I.

With desperation you scour multiple sites, looking for a roommate to stay with for the time being. Your move was abrupt, and you didn’t have time before you left home to look for a place to stay. For the past week, you’ve been staying at an Airbnb, hoping you’d be able to find a place soon. 

It was about one in the morning when the gods had finally decided to answer your prayers. A listing from a student attending your university was looking for a roommate to split rent with. As you read the listing, prices, and location, everything ticked all your boxes. Releasing a heavy sigh of relief, you message the person who posted the listing, asking if they were still looking for a roommate. 

You: Hi, is this still available?

 I’m ok with the rent prices and I can move in ASAP. 

Hanniehae: 

yah heres the address. 

come by tmrw at 2. we can talk about the details in person. 

Is it dumb of you to move into an apartment without asking any other questions? Yes, it was. But you were desperate to move out of the Airbnb you were staying in. The fees were starting to add up and you couldn’t afford to stay there anymore. Plus this is a person who’s going to the same school as you, they can’t be that bad…right? 

…

It was that bad. 

As soon as the door to your potential future apartment opens, you come face-to-face with the man who was yelling at you about a coffee stain just a few days ago. 

His long shoulder-length blond hair is a little messy, his eyes tired, like he had just gotten out of bed. It made you scoff, it's two p.m. but he was sleeping? The other part of your brain is wondering why he looked so good when he had just rolled out of bed. You would complain or at least make a snarky comment but you’re stuck in a predicament where you needed to find a place to stay fast. 

“So you’re stalking me now?” he scoffs, his eyebrows scrunching with confusion and a bit of anger. 

“Stalking you? You must think you’re special.” You roll your eyes at him, a sneer already on your face. “No, dumbass. I’m here because I’m looking for an apartment.” 

“I don’t think it’s very nice of you to call your future roommate a dumbass. My name is Jeonghan by the way.” Jeonghan smirks at you, the gears already turning in his head. 

He didn’t realize you were the one who was inquiring about the extra room last night. This has all gotten a lot more amusing for him since you’ve already somehow found a way to get on his bad side. It’s looking like karma was on his side for today, and he couldn’t be more pleased. 

“No. I must’ve gotten the wrong number.” You try to deny your fate, looking at the door to see that it is indeed the right place. You curse under your breath as you glance back and forth between the complex number and Jeonghan’s smug face. 

“Well, you certainly didn’t. Here look at the texts, Y/n.” He shoves his phone in your face, and your first name flashes across the screen, proving that he was the person you were texting last night. 

The back of your eyes feel as though they're burning, why am I always bumping into this asshole? You think to yourself, sighing. 

“If you don’t want me to live here then fine. I’ll find somewhere else,” you bluff, your pride still standing strong even though you need a place and you need one now. Pretending like you’re about to walk away, Jeonghan grabs your arm before you can go too far. 

“No. Whatever I guess, past is past. I need someone to split rent with, and you obviously need somewhere to stay so…” He shrugs as he holds onto your wrist, and you watch how his long and slender fingers wrap around it. The grip he has on you is firm but yet so delicate at the same time.

“Fine. Only because I really can’t find somewhere else, but once I do, I promise I'll be out of your hair,” you mutter, already not liking the idea of this setup. 

Jeonghan grins at you, relieved. He was happy to have someone to split the rent with, but what he’s more excited about is the fact that he’ll be able to piss you off in closer proximity. You seemed easy to anger and luckily for you, it’s Jeonghan’s favourite pastime to piss people off. There’s something about the way you react when you’re annoyed that he finds so amusing, at least you won’t be boring to live with, he thinks to himself. 

“You can move in today if you’d like. There’s nothing much to talk about, I've already listed everything in the posting. Don’t go in my room and I won’t go in yours. That’s all,” he says as he realizes he’s still holding onto your wrist. You become aware of it too, pulling back your hand quickly, your face reluctant but you know you can’t say no. 

“Fine. I’ll be back with all my things.” You look at him up and down once again, his sleep shorts and shirt baggy on him, but somehow he pulls it off. Especially the long hair, it makes you wonder what secrets it could possibly hold. 

“I don’t need help moving in by the way,” you add. 

“Who said I was gonna help you?” he chuckled, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he stared at you, raising an eyebrow. 

You’ve had enough of his egotistical bullshit, flashing him your middle finger as you walk towards the elevator. 

II.

As you're lugging your belongings into the apartment, you watch Jeonghan leisurely manspread on the couch, watching an episode of Spongebob.  You can’t help but roll your eyes as he acts so nonchalant as you heave your fifty-pound suitcase into the room. Then again, you did say you didn’t need his help, so who’s really at fault right now? 

Not bringing a whole lot with you, just the essentials, you opted to purchase everything when you found a place to stay. Thankfully, you were able to find a place now rather than later, all because of Jeonghan. As much as you hate him, if it weren’t for him you’d still be paying for the overpriced Airbnb. 

With a slam, you lay out your suitcase that contains practically your whole life. Conveniently enough, the place came fully furnished, so you didn’t need to buy a new bed and desk. 

As you unpack, you reminisce on all the memories your items hold. You really didn’t want to leave your city but you knew it was for the best. The toxicity of living with them did impact your mental health considerably. Starting fresh in a new city, a different school; it just seemed like the best thing to do at the time. Now you just hope that in the future you will appreciate the hard decision you had to make.

…

It was around eleven p.m. by the time you stepped out of your new room, and you noticed that the devil reincarnated was long gone from his spot on the couch. It wasn’t until you got closer to the kitchen that you heard the sounds of a headboard banging against the wall, and that was all you needed to go straight back into your room. 

“Jeonghan! Please…” You hear a woman’s voice moan. 

Running back to your room, you shut the door quickly behind you, you're mortified, to say the least. You barely know Jeonghan, and not even twenty-four hours into moving in, he’s already having guests over? A scoff can’t help but leave your throat, at this point, you shouldn’t even be surprised, Jeonghan definitely seems like the type to fuck around, even if his roommate was home. 

As quickly as possible you take out your headphones, not wanting to hear the obnoxiously loud sounds the girl in Jeonghan’s bed was making. 

“It can’t be that good,” you mumble to yourself, eyebrows scrunched like you were in deep thought. He just can’t be, you add to your thoughts, not wanting to give Jeonghan credit for actually being enjoyable in bed. 

With the whole world shut off, you head to the kitchen, craving a warm cup of ramen and some diet coke. The moment your electric kettle began to boil, you could feel the floorboards move under you slightly. The presence of a body behind you made you stiffen, even though you knew exactly who it was. 

Not trying to give him attention, you continue to make your food, pretending you can’t hear anything but the music blaring through your headphones. That was until they were snatched off your head, the abrupt action making you jump slightly. 

“What do you want?” you sigh, not even bothering to look behind you. Eyes still trained on the water that was filling your ramen cup, making sure it didn’t pass the fill line. 

“I called out your name like ten million times, you didn’t answer,” Jeonghan announced, but you don’t care. If he’s going to act like he’s the only person living here, then so will you. 

“Why would I?” You turn around to look at him now, his face a little too close for comfort. “I was under the impression you were busy with your visitor.” 

“I was, she left. I guess you didn’t hear her.” Jeonghan shrugs, placing the headphones he stole from you onto the countertop. 

Jeonghan has always been the type to get bored easily, not wanting to prolong a usual visit, it was better for him to fuck, clean up, then have them leave. No one he’s slept with has ever stayed the night and he preferred it that way. It’s better when it’s casual with no feelings involved. 

In short, Jeonghan was a grade-A asshole, especially in your books. A man who doesn't care for sincerity, only convenience. 

“Whatever, if you’re going to fuck a random chick while I’m here, you could at least have the decency to be a little quieter,” you grit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment and anger. 

Even if you didn’t like Jeonghan, you wouldn’t have done what he did, not that you’ve ever had sex, but still. 

Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle, the face you made when you got angry really amused him. Something about the way your cheeks would flush and your eyebrows scrunch. Pushing your buttons brought a rush in him that he just couldn't explain, he just wanted to see how far he could go to get you all worked up. 

“Well, it wouldn’t have bothered you if it was you who was in my room instead.” Jeonghan hovers over you once more, the height difference settling within you once again. He lets out the most annoyingly smug chuckle, one that makes your fists ball and your cheeks turn bright red. 

“Flirting with me won’t get you anywhere,” you spit at him, not wanting to play into his trap. 

“I’m not flirting, sweetheart, I’m only telling you the truth,” Jeonghan says with a sing-song voice as he walks away to go back into his room. 

III. 

It has been a few weeks since that last incident, and although you hate how Jeonghan continues to bring people over, you’ve learned to tune it out. The situation isn’t ideal, but all you can think about is the fact that you finally have a place to stay. 

Being his roommate felt like hell on Earth sometimes, the constant need to pester him about something different each day was starting to push you to your breaking point. Jeonghan was a horrible slob, only half decent enough to put away his own dishes. You tend to find his belongings all over the common area, sometimes it's a piece of clothing that couldn’t possibly belong to either of you.

A pink lace bra lying across the couch was pretty much your breaking point. You were so fed up with his constant lack of care for a common space. Thinking it was left from the night before, you decide it’s time to confront him about the boundaries he has yet to stay within. 

“Jeonghan I swear to god if I find another item from one of your flings I will—” You begin to march up to his room, not even bothering to knock this time. The anger begins turning from a bubbling simmer into a full-on rolling boil. 

Before you could even finish your sentence, you're met with the image of a topless girl hovering over Jeonghan, kissing him like he’s the cure for old age. They both tear apart from each other to look at you, your face resembling the scream by Edvard Munch. This is definitely one of the worst and embarrassing moments you’ve experienced in your life. 

“Oh my god! Sorry! Oh my god, I didn’t know, Sorry! Sorry!” You’re rambling out of embarrassment at this point. 

You hurriedly try to close the door, but before that you fling the bra into his room, flying across and hitting the back of the girl's head as she tries to cover up. 

“What the fuck!” she screams, and it feels like the more you stay, the worse the situation gets. 

“My bad!” you yell from the outside of his room, ready to scurry off into the only place you can stand to be in at that moment. 

As you headed back to your room, you covered yourself in all your pillows and blankets, trying to recover from the embarrassment you felt. It was on you for not knocking before you came in, but you had just been so sick of Jeonghan’s habits, that you were too mad to even think twice. The regret begins to overwhelm you, and you can’t help but scream into your pillows. 

“Of course, he had to just be hooking up with someone. Thank god it hadn’t gone any further.” You mumble into your pillow, trying to cover the fact that your whole face resembles a bright red tomato. 

Before you could spiral any deeper into thoughts of jumping off your balcony, your door bursts open to reveal your very own personal demon, one that took form as your roommate. You don’t even turn around, your head still buried in your pillow, instead opting to flip him off for putting you through a traumatizing situation. 

“So we’re into voyeurism now?” he teases you, laughing maniacally at your sulking figure. 

He strides over to the right side of your bed, hovering over where you lay. Words of protest spill out your mouth as you feel him turn you over so your body is facing upwards. Cheeks still flushed from a few minutes ago, you look at him through the slits of your fingers, your palms covering the rest of your red face. 

“Just leave me be. I did not mean to catch you guys in the act.” You couldn’t even make eye contact, your words muffled by your hands. 

“Y/n…if you wanted to join you could’ve just asked. You know I could never say no to two of you at once,” Jeonghan snickers, his smirk permanently plastered on his face. 

Angry at his vulgar statement, you fling upright, your face red with anger instead of embarrassment. As you sit up, you begin to take a better look at his frame. His shirt was nowhere to be found, his boxers peeking out of his grey sweats. You didn’t expect him to be so toned, his arms not extremely muscular, but you could tell he worked out at least a little. His height allows his abdomen to be in your line of sight with how you're sitting on your bed. The gulp leaves your throat involuntarily, betraying your facade of anger. A part of you curses him silently for being so attractive, which is something you never want to admit to him out loud. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.” You roll your eyes, trying to keep eye contact with him, even when his abs are right in front of you. 

“Next time, put a sock on your door or something. Or at least stop having your hookups leave their shit around the apartment!” An arm extending, motioning over to the living room where you had found the aforementioned bra. 

“Okay, okay, fine. Jesus Y/n, you know this wouldn’t have happened if you just had knocked.” He copies your actions, rolling his eyes back at you. His nonchalant tone never leaves, even in a situation like this. It angered you how careless he is, Jeonghan never cares about anything, and every day you wonder how far he can keep this act up. 

“I wouldn’t have to do all that if you two weren’t so careless!” You raise your voice at him, standing up from your bed. The anger shoots through your veins like bullets, how can he be the offended one in this situation? Jeonghan’s audacity never ceases to amaze you. 

“Why do you always have a stick up your fucking ass? Do you not get laid or something?” Jeonghan’s fists ball, he’s equally pissed now, appalled at how you’re raising your voice at him right now. “I see how it is Y/n, you know, maybe if you got as much as I did, you would learn to loosen up a bit. It was one bra.” 

“You’re unbelievable Yoon Jeonghan.” You scoff, offended by his words. It’s not fair that this is the conclusion, even though he’s right, you haven’t gotten laid, not for twenty-two years to be exact. “If I had known that you were this much of a terrible roommate, I wouldn’t have agreed to stay.” 

“If I had known that you were such a stuck-up bitch, I wouldn’t have agreed to let you live here.” He matches your energy, turning on his heels after, not even letting you sputter out a rebuttal, the sound of the door slamming echoing throughout your room. 

You stood there in shock, agitated. The silence of your room allows his words to sink into you. I’m the bitch? He’s fucking ridiculous, I wouldn’t even be acting this way if it weren’t for him. Eyebrows scrunched in frustration, you recall the argument you two had, and what frustrated you, even more, is the way conversations you have with him can turn from one to a hundred so quickly. In all honesty, it gave you whiplash dealing with him. 

…

Jeonghan’s blood pressure is at an all-time high. How dare you enforce all these rules onto him, when he’s the one who agreed to let you live with him in the first place.

“Past is past, yeah fucking right,” he mutters under his breath as he sits on his bed, thinking back to the day you showed up at his doorstep. 

The grudge he held for you spilling coffee on his shirt, that he could get over. But your constant need to dictate his actions? Hell no. He can’t let that slide, especially when he was living in this apartment first. 

Jeonghan can’t help but run his fingers through his hair, the stress of arguing with you was catching up to him. Something about you and the way you acted towards him gets him heated so quickly. The effect you have on his mood didn’t make sense to him, especially because he considers himself to be a generally careless person. 

Maybe it was your face or the way your cheeks would flush when you would raise your voice at him. Or maybe the fact that your small frame looked so harmless as you argued with him, the way your hands would ball into tiny fists. Part of him is amused at your anger, until you start to strike a nerve, that's when he begins to lose all self-control. He can’t even remember the last time he has fought with someone like this, you really just know how to rile him up. 

IV. 

Since that argument with Jeonghan, the two of you have learned to stay out of each other's way. It wasn’t like either of you went out of your way to talk to one another before what happened, but there was definitely a thicker layer of distaste now. 

There are times when he would see you cooking in the kitchen, opting to stay in his room only after you had cleared the space of your presence. It wasn’t one-sided either, you tend to only leave your room to cook or head to class. Not bothering to even spare Jeonghan a second glance. 

Not only was there less clutter in the common spaces, it wasn’t completely spotless, but at least he was trying to be more mindful. What surprised you the most was that he didn’t bring people over as often anymore, opting to go out late instead. There were mornings when you were forced to face him, passing by him as you left for class, only to realize he was coming home from being out all night. 

You hear the door beep as you get ready to put on your shoes. Jeonghan’s figure is entering your peripheral vision as he steps through to the mudroom. Pretending like he isn’t there, you put on your coat and mitts, leaving the apartment to walk to your next class.

The weather had gotten considerably colder since you first moved into the apartment. Snow was starting to fall to the ground rapidly, the temperature dropping to a whopping negative 20 degrees Celsius. You were concerned, considering you walk to school, but a little snow has never stopped you. And you simply can’t afford to skip any lectures. 

As you make your way to school, you admire how your new city is beginning to turn into a winter wonderland, the people around you all bundled up for the cold weather, as well as the snow that was sticking to the tree branches and bushes. Most people would curse at the weather, but you felt appreciative of all the little things, especially knowing you wouldn’t have been able to experience them in your home city. 

“Well, don’t you just look like a cheerful snowman, all bundled up!” Seungkwan notes on your appearance, watching as you sit beside him for your digital marketing class. 

“Good morning to you too, Kwan,” you roll your eyes at his remarks, your cheeks and nose still red from the cold. 

Meeting Seungkwan this term was probably the only reason you are still in this class. Not only did he help you improve your comprehension of the class material, but he was also just a joy to be around. His spunky personality shows through even in the most unpredictable situations. Sometimes you wonder why he hasn’t thought about going into law, his urge to argue with the professor during lecture always gives you secondhand embarrassment. But at the same time, you can’t help but admire his extroverted personality.

“Any news on your roommate? I don’t even know why you continue to live with him Y/nie,” Seungkwan shakes his head.“If I were you I would’ve moved out after the first incident.” 

“Well, I would, but there’s literally nowhere else to stay. So I kinda have to suck it up or I’ll be homeless,” you sigh, readying your things to head to the dining hall. The grumble in your stomach starts to grow louder with each passing minute. 

Seungkwan can only sigh, pitying your situation, especially because from what you’ve told him, your roommate seems to be a total asshole. 

Within a few minutes, the two of you reach the dining hall, quickly spotting two big heads arguing over the last piece of pepperoni pizza. 

“Kwon Soonyoung, I swear to good if you don’t hand over the last slice.” Seokmin’s eyes set ablaze, staring at the slice that Soonyoung doesn’t seem to want to relinquish. 

Every day since you met them, you wonder why Seungkwan thought it was a good idea to introduce them to you, especially because they both collectively share only one brain cell. 

“Or what Seok? I’m older than you. How about you respect your elders? I deserve it!” Soonyoung huffs, one hand gripping his tray, his other swatting around aimlessly in the air. 

They looked like two rabid animals circling around one helpless prey. Seungkwan sighs beside you, not in the mood to deal with his friend’s antics. Tired of hearing them fight over a measly slice of pizza, he tries to separate the two of them, and instead of rectifying the situation, it makes things worse. 

“Seungkwan gets out of here, it's between me and his greedy ass,” Soonyoung practically barks at the only person trying to make sure no one dies because of a slice of pizza. 

“I’m greedy?!” Seokmin points to himself in disbelief, and the look on his face shows how offended he really is. “How can I be greedy, I let you borrow my toothbrush this morning when you lost yours!” 

Oh, that's gross, you thought. But knowing Seokmin and Soonyoung, they’re the type of best friends that act like family. 

“Dude! You can’t just be yelling that out loud!” Soonyoung looks at him wide-eyed, coming closer to his best friend. The tray in his hand tipped over slightly, gravity causing it to almost slip off. Soonyoung is now more upset over his secret being revealed than the mediocre food that he was fighting over less than 30 seconds ago. 

Seungkwan sighs once more, taking the tray from Soonyoung’s hand so it doesn’t fall onto the floor. Then no one would get any pizza at all. 

As you watch them from a few steps back, you see the pepperoni pizza get restocked just behind them. The cooks observe the scene that has been unfolding with an unimpressed look in their eyes. It’s not every day that you see two idiots fight over something so trivial.  

“Okay fine I’m sorry, but you know their pizza is my favourite!” Seokmin apologizes.

“You two idiots need to stop fighting. They literally put out more, probably because they’re tired of hearing you guys argue!” You motion over to the fresh pizza. 

Dumb and dumber stare at each other for a millisecond, then back at the pizza, before speeding over to take enough slices for themselves. You and Seungkwan give each other an exasperated look, both of you questioning why you two are even friends with them in the first place. 

When the situation finally settled down, Seungkwan began grilling you about your roommate once more. He is so invested in your setup, and even more so because you haven’t even told him who you’re living with. It could really be anyone on campus. 

“Y/nie you never told us who you’re roommate is,” Seungkwan cuts off Seokmin and Soonyoung’s conversation about their favourite Pokemon. 

The three of them throw you curious looks, the spotlight now on you. 

“Oh, really?” You think back to when you first told Seungkwan about Jeonghan, you really didn’t think naming him would be vital information. Seungkwan thinks otherwise. “His name is Jeonghan? Maybe you guys know of him, he’s in our year, after all.” 

“Jeonghan? Like Yoon Jeonghan?” Seungkwan looks at you, his eyes practically bursting out of their sockets.

“We don’t just know of him, Y/nie,” Soonyoung adds, the grave look on his face indicating that maybe naming him was something you should’ve mentioned from the start. 

Seungkwan looks at both Seokmin and Soonyoung, his eyes going back and forth from the two of them to you. It’s like the three of them could communicate without any words. You knew their bond was strong, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.

“Y/n…” Seungkwan starts off, placing his hand over yours. “We’ve known him since we were in first year and…he’s definitely built a reputation for himself.” 

He nudges his head behind you, causing you to turn around. Jeonghan sits there with Joshua, the two of them laughing a few tables before yours. As you observed the two of them, you couldn’t help but notice how good-looking he was, especially when there was a genuine smile on his face. A girl was sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around his bicep like he was just going to disappear if he let go. You take note of the fact that she isn’t the same girl who you caught in his bedroom the week before. 

“So he’s a fuckboy? That’s it?” you snort, not really seeing the problem with that. It doesn’t matter to you anyway, it’s not like you would ever become romantically involved with him. 

“Well yes… but he’s also just not someone I think you should be around. You two live together, and if you got any closer with him, it just wouldn’t end well,” Seungkwan sighs, just wanting to warn you about Jeonghan and his womanizing ways. 

“His friend Joshua is pretty nice though,” Seokmin adds. “I don’t know why they’re friends but that’s just how they’ve been since we started school here.”

V.

The snow has gotten considerably thicker compared to when you first got to school. The snowbanks along the street start to hit you mid-calf, causing you to wonder if you should’ve taken a taxi home instead. Looking around, you realize that it never stopped snowing from this morning. The chilly weather and the new city experiences are not something you’re used to as someone who’s lived somewhere warm your whole life. 

Lights twinkling from shiny Christmas decorations that have yet to be taken down, the cold air that the snow brought along is constantly hitting you in the face. Your cheeks are rosy, your nose running, and the tote bag on your shoulder is constantly slipping off. As annoyed as you feel from all the overstimulation you’re experiencing, you can’t wait until you can just go home and rest. 

When you picked this city as your new place to live, you didn’t realize how much you romanticized the winter experience. It’s nothing like any of those Christmas hallmark movies you watched as a kid. 

As you walk back to your apartment, you think about what Seungkwan and the boys enlightened you on. The more you begin to learn about Jeonghan, the more you wonder if it was a good idea to move in with him in the first place. There isn’t any going back now, you’re pretty much stuck with him till you can find a place of your own.  

You don’t see much of him anyway, it’s not like you’ll be forced to be around him 24/7. 

…

“You know what Shua, she’s so infuriating. Not even my mom is up my ass like this.” Jeonghan scoffs.

Joshua decided to walk home with him before going back to his place. He quickly realizes that he regrets making that decision because even in the comfort of Jeonghan’s apartment, he still has to listen to him complain about his new housemate. 

“You don’t have a mom, Han,” Joshua rolls his eyes, he can’t keep listening to Jeonghan complain about the same things over and over again. 

“Exactly!” 

“She’s probably not even that bad, you’re always the type to overreact.” 

“Well if she just minded her own fucking business, I wouldn’t be complaining in the first place,” Jeonghan scoffs, running his hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Well maybe if you didn’t leave shit like your hookup’s bra in the living room, I wouldn’t be up your ass all the time,” you scowl, taking off your winter coat as you walk through the door. 

It’s a miracle that the two didn’t hear you come in; Jeonghan’s complaining was too loud for anyone to hear anything other than his voice. The moment you walked through the door, it was also the first thing you heard, causing you to roll your eyes as you took your boots off. All the excitement you had to get home is long gone. 

“Coffee girl has a point dude,” Joshua sides with you. 

“What the hell man, you’re my friend, not hers!” Jeonghan raises his voice, obviously offended that his best friend took the side of someone he considered his enemy. 

Joshua only chuckles at his best friend’s baffled expression, it’s not every day that he sees Jeonghan so easily affected by a girl. In almost every circumstance it was the other way around. 

“I am your friend but I don’t think I could ever live with you,” Joshua laughs. 

He has a point, you don’t think anyone would willingly decide to live with Jeonghan. Except for you. 

“Well I gotta go, the weather is continuing to get worse. See you around coffee girl.” Joshua flashes you his charming smile, patting your shoulder as he exits. 

“It's Y/n by the way!” you yell at him before the door fully closes. The small smile on your face reaches your eyes. 

It's quickly wiped off when you turn back to see Jeonghan giving you a death glare from across the living room. His strong forearms crossed as he taps his foot impatiently, almost like he’s waiting for an argument to start up again. 

“Now you’ve got Shua taking your side now?” Jeonghan sneers at you, lasers practically shooting out of his eyes with every move you make. 

“It’s not my fault Joshua has critical thinking skills,” you argue back. 

Every time you’re near Jeonghan, your blood pressure seems to spike. So much for that one week of peace, it’s obvious you’ve struck a new nerve with him. Before the argument could escalate even further you decide to just walk away.

 Retiring to your room, you finally change into some comfy clothes. The whole day had just been extremely tiring, and coming home to Jeonghan starting a new argument with you didn’t help. The moment you walk back out you know he will have something snarky to say, so instead you find solace in your own room for the rest of the night. 

You ponder about why your roommate from hell is the way he is. Does he have an allergy to being nice to people? Maybe he was dropped on his head as a baby? With all the sex he has you would assume he’d be a laid-back person, but his temperament proves you otherwise.

…

The obnoxious ringing of your alarm causes you to spring up from your bed. Eyes still droopy with sleep, you haphazardly reach for your phone on your bedside table. Blaming your bad mood and lack of motivation to wake up on the fact that Jeonghan was the last person you thought of last night. A part of you wishes you weren’t so eager at the beginning to enroll in classes at the beginning of the term, or else you wouldn’t be waking up at seven a.m. for an eight-thirty a.m. lecture. 

As you begin to check the notifications your eyebrows raise as you read the email sent by your university.

To all students at ____ University, 

Due to poor weather conditions and an upcoming blizzard, classes will be moved online until further notice. It is highly advised that all students are to stay indoors till the snowstorm passes. An email will be sent out with details on when in-person classes will resume. 

Thank you and stay safe, 

____ University’s Administration Team. 

“What the hell?” you blurt out in your still-dark room, the light of your screen reflecting onto your face. 

You fling the comforter off your body to look through the window of your room. As you peer out the glass you notice that the snow had gotten considerably higher overnight. While walking home yesterday, it didn’t register in your mind that the excessive snowfall was going to become this much of a problem. Not that you were complaining, this just meant you’re able to sleep in a little more. 

Jumping back into bed, you realize that because of the advisory to stay indoors, you’re going to have to be around Jeonghan for an unknown period of time. The thought of having to spend time holed up in your apartment with him doesn’t particularly excite you, if anything you’re dreading it. Ultimately, you decide that it’s a problem for your future self, lulling back into a much-needed deep sleep. 

…

It’s past mid-day when your body finally decides it’s time for you to wake up. The light peaking through your curtains blinds you. Your head is still fuzzy from the fact you overslept, you couldn’t help but crave a glass of water. 

As you untangle your limbs from your sheets, you enter the living room, only to be met with the sight of your roommate building Legos while watching an episode of Crayon Shin-Chan. It gives you whiplash, seeing him playing with Legos and watching cartoons. It’s a stark contrast from when you caught him making out with that girl in his bedroom. 

You decide to just ignore his presence, knowing that if either of you spoke it would just turn into an argument. 

“Had a good sleep Y/n? It’s practically past noon now,” Jeonghan speaks out, his back facing you as he continues to assemble what seems to be a ramen shop Lego set. You roll your eyes at his comment, continuing to fill up your glass with water. 

“Well I wouldn’t be so tired if I wasn’t dealing with your shit all the time,” you spit back, glaring at him over your shoulder.

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you continue to observe Jeonghan playing building his legos, his slender fingers calculated with each and every step as he assembles them. The manual on his lap, while his long blond hair is tucked behind his ear. 

“You wouldn’t have to deal with my shit if you just minded your own business.” He acts unfazed, still working diligently, not even bothering to look up at you.

Why does he always have some type of rebuttal? It was like he was raised to argue with people. The more you think about it, you realize why Seungkwan has a certain distaste towards him. He would probably argue with Jeonghan more than you do. 

“And I wouldn’t have to mind your business if you didn’t disturb the peace by being so loud whenever you bring someone over.” 

A part of you wonders if in another universe you and Jeonghan actually got along, or maybe if he’s an asshole in every other universe too. 

“Whatever, I don’t bring anyone over anymore. So take what you can get,” Jeonghan sighs, still not caring enough to take his eyes off his work. 

Although you hate to admit it, he's right. Ever since that argument in your bedroom, he hasn’t brought anyone over. Which you're thankful for, but that still doesn’t excuse his stuck-up behaviour. 

You sigh, walking over to sit down next to him. Maybe this is his way of finding a middle ground, he’s probably just as tired from all the fighting as you are. One thing about you is that you know when to yield, and if this is Jeonghan’s way of trying to cause fewer fights with you, then so be it. Jeonghan is human too, so you’ll forgive him for now, especially since the fights haven’t really been one-sided either. 

“Thank you for that, I appreciate it,” you mumble, taking a look at his Lego manual, and helping him put some of the pieces together. 

For the first time that morning, Jeonghan looks up at you. You weren’t aware of his gaze as you continued to put blocks together, but he really took his time looking at you. The light shining through the windows caused your skin to glow. Your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, tongue slightly poking out. He finds you cute, he’ll admit, maybe one of the prettiest girls he’s seen so far in his life, and he’s met a lot of pretty girls. If it weren’t for all the disagreements, he wonders if you two would have actually gotten along and maybe even been more than roommates. 

“I’ll be better now, or at least I’ll try to,” he speaks up, eyes still focused on you. As you meet his gaze, you can see he truly meant it. It causes your breath to hitch, it was the first time you’ve seen him so serious, but in a positive way. A small smile forms along your lips, and you take out your hand, signalling for him to shake it. 

“Roommates? This could be a peace treaty of sorts.” 

“Okay, roommates. Also, I’m sorry for saying all those mean things about you, I can become an asshole when I’m angry,” he apologizes as he gives you a firm handshake. “Which is a shitty excuse, but still, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry too,” you retract your hand, going back to building the miniature ramen shop. “It’s tiring having to argue all the time, I’m sure it was tiring for you too.” 

He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement, and it surprises you a little. It’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile from him since you moved in. It felt good to be on the same page with him, the arguing would’ve definitely caused you two to loathe each other until you finally decided to move out. 

“This calls for some type of celebration,” He declared, standing up abruptly to search through the fridge. 

Jeonghan comes back shortly with a bottle in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. You give him a confused look as he returns to his spot on the carpet. The amused and slightly mischievous glint in his eyes concerns you a little. 

As he removes the cork from the spine of the wine bottle, you get a good view of his strong forearms. You’re not sure why it was so mesmerizing to watch him do such a mundane task, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The veins in his arms become more prominent with each move he makes. Before you know it, he’s pouring you a glass and handing it over to you. 

“Wine? Really? It’s only 2 p.m.,” you give him a questioning look, you’re hesitant but you take the glass from him anyways. 

“Why not? We don’t have school tomorrow anyways,” he shrugs, placing the wine bottle down to take a sip from his own glass. 

You follow his actions, taking a sip of the red liquor, and feeling the liquid overcome your taste buds. Making a small sound of delight, you stare at him with wide eyes, showing him that you like the way it tastes. Jeonghan seems to know his way around wine, because, for someone who doesn’t indulge in drinking often, even you enjoyed what he handed you. 

“It’s good right?” he grins, clinking the side of his glass with yours. 

You giggle, taking another swig, allowing yourself to truly relax for the first time since you moved in. The buzz of the alcohol already takes effect the more you drink it, causing all your limbs to loosen up. 

If someone told you that you would be drinking wine and assembling Legos with Jeonghan a week ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. But now that it’s actually happening, you’re not opposed to hanging out with him like this again. 

Maybe in this universe, you and Jeonghan do get along. 

…

A couple hours and half a ramen shop later, you can start the really feel the effects of the alcohol. There wasn’t much talking between you and Jeonghan, only exchanging a couple words when you got stuck on a part of the build. His voice was soft and nurturing, patiently teaching you when the instructions were unclear. It was the first time you’d heard him so soft spoken, but maybe because every time you two were conversing it was through shouting. 

“Here, you just need to put this piece there, then it should look like the manual,” he mumbles, taking the platform from your hand to put the block in the right way. 

His fingers lightly graze yours as he takes it from your hands, the warmth of his touch making you blush slightly. The proximity of your face to his, plus all the wine you had in your system started to make you feel more flustered than normal. In regular circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have thought so hard about the small interactions you had with him while you two put the Legos together. But something was hanging in the air as you two shared this moment together, and you couldn’t really put your finger on it. 

“Oh okay… thanks,” you mumble as you continue on with the instructions. “When did you get so fond of Legos anyway?”

“My dad and I used to build them together when I was younger,” he confides with a sad smile across his face. 

Jeonghan doesn’t really like to indulge in his home life much, but the wine in his system caused his walls to crumble a bit. Every brick he laid to put his feelings behind slowly came undone with each sip he took from his glass. 

“He felt bad that I had to grow up without a mom, so he liked to bond over this,” he continues as he motions over to the plastic blocks in his hands. 

Your mouth went dry as you heard him talk with so much cadence, a part of you felt bad for him, naturally so, but you also empathized with him. Growing up, your home life wasn’t the best either, and the fact that he’s decided to tell you something so important made you feel a little bit closer to him. 

“He seems like a great dad,” you affirmed, not wanting to press too much because you weren’t sure if he wanted to elaborate more on the situation.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, Jeonghan stops and looks at the way you smile at him. It's sympathetic, but he can’t tell you’re not doing it out of pity, just understanding. The city lights reflected in your eyes, causing them to twinkle in your now dim apartment. The way you stared at him made his heart skip. At the beginning of the day he saw you as his stuck-up roommate, but now you’re just Y/n, who happens to be his roommate. 

“He is, he really did a lot for me growing up,” Jeonghan chuckles, tearing his eyes from you to hide the blush starting to creep up from his neck. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” you say as your hand goes back to continue putting pieces of Legos together. “My parents weren’t really like that when I was young.” 

Jeonghan perks up a little, stunned by the fact that you decided to share a tidbit about yourself. He doesn’t really know much about you, so the fact that you’ve also decided to confide in him about your family surprised him. 

“They were always away when I was kid, they had to travel for work a lot, but I got used to it,” you mutter, not really sure why you felt the need to tell him about the neglect you felt when you were a kid. The topic of your parents was sensitive, and a part of you isn’t sure why you felt so comfortable talking about it with someone whom you felt resentment for not more than twenty-four hours ago. Jeonghan should be the last person you talk to about this, but yet you did it anyway. 

“I only ever saw them on weekends, and even then they weren’t the most affectionate people on earth.” A sigh leaves your lips as you recount the years you spent alone. “They were so busy that they ended up hiring a nanny at some point.” 

“That must’ve been hard, I’m sorry Y/n,” Jeognhan puts his hand over yours, giving you a solemn look, his frown mimicking yours. 

The knot in your throat intensified as he stared at you, causing you to swallow harshly. 

“It’s fine, I got used to it. It’s the reason why I moved cities,” you admit as he continues to hold your hand reassuringly. “They just expected so much from me, being the only child and all, and it got so bad to the point that the only time they spoke to me were to criticize my actions. I just knew that I would be happier if I didn’t have to be around them all the time.” 

 A bitter laugh leaves your lips, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill. If it weren’t for the fact that you had alcohol running through your system, you probably wouldn’t feel so emotional. Your parents are supposed to be the ones taking care of you and to be there for you when you need to be, but it seemed like the total opposite. Instead, they were the ones you couldn’t share anything with, not even when you told them that you got accepted to your dream university. Neither of them ever congratulated you on your achievements or milestones, nothing seemed to impress them.

Jeonghan didn’t utter a word, only listening to what you had to say, and it felt nice. For the first time, you could just genuinely share your feelings, without the scrutiny of your parents, without the fear of being ridiculed or being called weak. 

“Your parents don’t know anything about you Y/n, and one day they’ll regret every time they doubted you.” Jeonghan shrugs, and it feels like a breath of fresh air, hearing someone comfort you in a way your parents refuse to. 

“Thank you Jeonghan,” you whisper, blinking away unshed tears. “I’m sorry for dumping all that on you by the way.” 

The guilt in your stomach circled as you realized that your tangent went on longer than you would’ve liked, especially because the conversation was meant to be about him and not you.

It's clear to him that you thought talking about yourself was a selfish act, but it’s not. Jeonghan knew that the reason for your guilt was because of how much your parents neglected and ridiculed you growing up. If anything he feels guilty that he’s only now realizing how nice of a person you are. 

“Don’t be. I’m happy to listen.” He squeezes your hand, doing what he can to soothe your pain.

…

You suddenly wake up to find yourself seated with your back resting against the base of the couch. As you begin to regain consciousness from your cat nap, you hear the tv humming softly, the screen glowing as it plays a random movie. You also realized that your head was resting gently on Jeonghan’s shoulder, causing you to jolt up slightly from your position. 

“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” Jeonghan chirps, chuckling at the way you had just reacted. 

You don’t even remember falling asleep, let alone putting your head on his shoulder as you drifted off. The warmth of his body radiating onto yours, the smell of his cologne wafting off of him and enveloping your senses. At least he doesn’t stink, you thought to yourself. 

“I don’t even remember falling asleep, sorry,” you murmured, your cheeks turning red. 

The ambient lighting reflected onto Jeonghan’s face, the clear view of his smug expression made you want to smack him. There’s a glint in his eyes, one that you couldn’t really put a finger on. His arm is over your shoulder, which you didn’t realize was around you till now. Rubbing up at down your arm soothingly, it causes you to lean into his touch even more. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to do so, but all thoughts had left your head. Relaxation flowed through your veins, causing you to not think too much of the situation you’ve been put in. 

His touch is innocent, but the hair on your arm raises with each brush of Jeonghan’s palm. 

As you became more calm with each second that passed, you put your head on his shoulder once again. Embracing the intimate position you’ve been put in with your roommate of all people. You decide to just watch the movie that was playing, even though you didn’t know what was going on. Anything to stop you from thinking too much about the fact that you’re practically cuddled up with Jeonghan; the man who you despised not too long ago. 

“It’s fine, you seemed pretty drowsy from the wine,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning across the side of your face from the close proximity. “Remind me not to let you drink so much.” 

“I don’t drink often, I'm pretty sure I'm still a little tipsy,” you laugh, still staring at the flashing scenes coming off the screen. 

You can see Joenghan observing you from your peripheral vision, his eyes scanning your face for any type of discomfort. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol he had drank or the atmosphere of the cozy apartment, but he didn’t hate that he was holding you close. You were so focused on the TV, yet he found you more interesting than whatever movie he decided to put on. Eyebrows scrunched with concentration, lips in a line as you continued to pay attention to the characters in front of you. The red tint on your cheeks from the alcohol looked good to him, even when doing the most mundane act of watching a movie. 

“Y/n,” Jeonghan calls out for you with his soft voice, eyes entranced by your beauty. 

“Hmm?” you respond to him, finally meeting face-to-face with him. Taken aback by how close he had gotten as you turned to look at him, your eyes grew wide. 

He doesn’t say much more, only taking his other hand to grab ahold of your chin, levelling your face with his. Looking down at your lips and then back to your eyes, makes your palms sweat. All your thoughts are in disarray as he moves close enough to nudge his nose against yours. Practically tasting you, but not close enough to feel his lips on yours. 

Frozen in your spot on the carpet, you don’t move an inch, even though you could feel him starting to close the gap between you. A part of you is telling you to run away, push him off, anything, but your body stays still. Wrapped in his embrace, you don’t want to leave, not even when you begin to feel his lips place a soft kiss on yours. 

His warm lips are plush as he presses himself against you even more. The world crumbles away as you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to stabilize yourself. He becomes rougher, kissing you with more intent. Jeonghan takes his hand off your chin to wrap it around your waist, pulling you over and onto his lap. You can’t help but gasp at how fast he’s able to dominate the situation, but you don’t stop moving along with him. 

For once in your life, you release yourself from self-doubt and overthinking. Letting Jeonghan take over all your thoughts, all of your senses. It’s all you can think about now, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, his name replaying in your head. No one else at that moment existed except you and him, and it causes you to kiss him back with the same determination.

He grips onto your hips, feeling you up, kissing you for all he’s worth. As if you're the only source of water during a year-long drought. A groan bubbles up from his throat as you grind yourself against his crotch, and you can’t help but moan back in response. He takes that opportunity to force his tongue past your lips, licking the inside of your mouth. It felt so damn good that you can only grind against him harder. The kiss became wetter, messier, with each passing second. 

“F-fuck, you can’t move like that sweetheart,” he detaches his lips from yours, groaning from how you keep pressing yourself against his growing erection. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so flustered, and the look on his face is addicting. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but you were just trying to go along with the flow he had set. 

“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” you pant out, still out of breath from the little make-out session you just had.

You weren’t born yesterday, and the more you shuffle against his body, you begin to feel his hard-on brush up against the inside of your thigh. It makes you gasp, you didn’t realize how turned on Jeonghan had become just from kissing you. The experience of even just kissing someone was foreign to you, whatever it is that you were doing, he obviously enjoyed it. 

“Oh,” is all you can say after discovering how hard he is under you. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop though, did I?” He says, eyes lidded as he looks at your flushed face. 

He connects your lips with his once again, his hands travelling up your shorts and under them, groping at the soft skin of your ass, forcing you to grind against his length. A moan leaves your lips as you feel him touch you in such a lewd way, but you don’t want to stop. The pleasure of it all rewires your brain as you become more obsessed with the feeling of him all over you. 

“T-that feels really good,” you whimper against him, shamelessy starting to grind against him on your own accord. 

He lets out a chuckle before detaching his lips to place wet, hot kisses against your neck, moving down further to suckle on the base of your throat and collarbones. This is the first time you felt someone kiss you there, or anywhere to be honest, but you didn’t want him to stop. Not after knowing how good he is with just his mouth and hands all over you. 

“We can’t keep going or I’ll lose my self-control,” he breathes against your neck, his harsh grip still kneading your ass. The reality of the situation finally seeped into his brain. You whine against him, the last thing you want him to do is stop, but he does so anyway, pulling you off him. The only sound of both of your heavy breathing echoes throughout the apartment. 

“Oh okay,” you feel a little rejected, not sure why he couldn’t go any further with you. 

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, but I want you to be fully sober the next time I kiss you,” is all he says before he walks away, going back to his room without another word.

You’re left dumbfounded; the short, yet hot make out session started to finally sink in. It made you stop and think for a moment, would you even have gone further if he allowed it? Would you have let him fuck you on the floor of your shared apartment? It scared you how fast you made up your mind, the thought of him pleasuring you sending a shock throughout your whole body. 

It’s not every day you kiss your roommate who you thought you hated. As you try to recollect your thoughts, you realize how all of this could lead you down a really bad path. But a part of you is curious as to what would have happened if Jeonghan hadn’t stopped himself. 

VI.  

It’s the next morning and your university sent out another email that classes will go back to regular scheduling the following day. You felt relief that the snowstorm wasn’t too extreme but at the same time, you didn’t want to return after the short break. School was the least of your worries though, the thoughts of what happened last night with Jeonghan stayed at the forefront of your mind. 

You woke up before him, bright and early, others would think you’re just an early riser, but in reality, it was because you were up all night replaying the moments of when you lost your first kiss to your roommate. Not being able to get a wink of sleep, you decided to stay up till morning, early enough to make breakfast for yourself. It made you feel a little pathetic, knowing how easy it was for Jeonghan to conquer all your waking thoughts. 

If only you knew that he faced the same problem as he tried his best to fall asleep. 

“Morning,” Jeonghan walks into the kitchen nonchalantly, catching a glimpse of you cooking by the stove. 

His sudden presence startles you, causing you to yelp out while cooking a batch of scrambled eggs. Turning around your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his frame, his long blond hair flowing to his shoulders, not wearing anything but a pair of grey sweatpants, his boxers slightly peaking past the waistband. You were practically drooling as he stood there, his arms crossed accentuating his biceps. 

“Do you have to sneak up on me every time?” You mutter, breaking away your gaze from his body to regain focus on your current task. The eggs in your pan slightly burnt because of how much Jeonghan distracted you.

He laughs at you, noticing the now brown eggs that sit sadly in your frying pan. Watching your shoulders slump with disappointment, he can’t help but admire you right back. Your sleep shorts and long T-shirt did not leave much up to the imagination. It wasn’t even noon but Jeonghan couldn’t help but imagine fucking you against the kitchen counter. 

“I didn’t know I had to announce my presence every time, my bad, princess,” Jeonghan teases, observing how you react to the name he’s given you. 

Striding to where you stand, he comes up right behind you placing his hands on your hips, close enough that you could feel his breath tickle the nape of your neck. It leaves you breathless, and you finally understand why so many girls are desperate to get a lick of his attention. Even his slightest actions exude some sort of attractiveness, an effect you didn’t fully realize he had till last night’s hot make-out session. 

You try to ignore your intrusive thoughts, ignoring how close he’s standing behind you. As you plate up your food, he continues to follow you around, trying to get you to crack under the sexual tension he had created between the two of you. 

“Could you just stand still for one minute?” you sigh, feeling him coming behind you again, arms around your waist. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” he answers you with a question, and you can practically hear the pout in his voice. 

“Maybe because there’s a hot pan in my hand right now, and you keep trying to annoy me,” you chastise him, your voice coming out breathier than you wanted. He continues pestering you, feeling up your waist, not wanting to let you go so easily. 

His large hands hold you close, your ass right against his front as you try to finish up what you’re doing in the kitchen. It was hard to ignore a man like Jeonghan, especially because he was refusing to relinquish his hold on you as you placed the pan back onto the stove to cool down.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he admits, his voice a little rough from just waking up. 

You sigh, turning around to face him, his arms moving to inclose you against the counter. The lust in his eyes is clear as if the only thing he’s hungry for this morning is you. 

“Me neither,” you whisper back, his body so close to yours to the point that you could hear his heartbeat against his chest. 

Looking into his eyes, you could see the mischievous glint reflecting against the morning sun. Is it too early for you to be horny for your roommate? Maybe. But you didn’t care, after having a taste of Jeonghan last night, all you want is more of him. 

Once those words were uttered, Jeonghan didn’t waste any more time. His mouth claimed yours in a heated kiss, making you dizzy and out of breath. As he forces his tongue past your lips, you can’t help but moan out of surprise. The grip he has on you only gets tighter until he lifts you onto the kitchen island, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The counter is at the perfect height, allowing you to feel his erection right against your heat. Jeonghan presses into you harder, allowing his clothed length to brush up against you, making you whimper against his lips. 

“J-Jeonghan,” you moan out for him as his lips trail down your neck just like last night. The feeling of him pressed up against is so addicting, to the point that you’ve forgotten about your breakfast that is plated beside you. 

He doesn’t dare stop showering you with kisses, his hands travelling up and under your shirt to grope at your breasts, playing with your hardened nipples. He’s thankful you were still in your pyjamas, no bra to stop him from touching your full mounds. 

“You’ll be my breakfast for today, is that okay with you?” he mumbles against your neck and you can only nod in response. 

Your eagerness makes him chuckle, and you can feel the vibration of his voice along your skin. He pulls back from you, swiftly removing the oversized shirt you have on. He groans at the sight, seeing your body for on display for him. His hard member twitches in his pants as he takes in every inch of your curves. Jeonghan can’t help but dive back into your breasts, taking one in his mouth, licking and suckling on your nipple while he massages the other. 

“That feels so good,” you moan, eyes closed as you lose yourself in the pleasure of his mouth. 

He’s only paying attention to your chest, but the bottom half of you is becoming wet and needy with every second that passes. Jeonghan is obsessed with the way you moan for him, the sounds coming from your mouth are so unholy, it’s all he wants to hear from you from now on. Just seeing you spread out for him like this is making his thoughts run a million miles per hour. He has so much he wants to do for you, but he decides to take his time, wanting to just savour each inch of your body. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” he sighs, pulling his mouth away from your body, standing back a little to take you in more clearly. 

You already looked so fucked out, and he loves it. He loves seeing your bare chest heaving, hair dishevelled, lips red and swollen. This image of you is so drastic from when he first met you, he never thought you’d be so submissive and needy for him. The blood rushing from his brain down to his dick, it's almost painful how hard he is, but he doesn’t care. He wants to see you come undone from his mouth before anything else. 

“Can I taste you baby?” he asks so sweetly as if he isn’t asking to make you cum from just his tongue. 

The ache between your legs intensifies, causing you to shut them close to allow yourself some type of relief. You’ve never been this aroused before. Of course, you’ve touched and played with yourself before, but you’ve never had anyone eat you out. The yearning to experience it grows tenfold as you watch him move closer, removing your shorts and panties in one go. 

“I’ve never done this before,” you admit to him, avoiding his gaze as your cheeks turn red. Your legs shut in an instant as you feel the cold air hit your wet core. 

Jeonghan sighs, gripping your face between his hands, your cheeks squished between his fingers. His dominant side begins to show as he stares at you with a serious look in his eyes. You find him so sexy as he examines you with so much lust, the wetness in your legs becomes harder to ignore the longer you two stay in this position. 

“I don’t mind, as long as you’re okay with me eating you out,” he assured, waiting for your approval. 

“I’m more than okay with it,” you nod eagerly, taking his hand off your face and placing it between your legs, “touch me here, please Jeonghan.” 

You sound so needy for him, it makes his head fill with thoughts of you under him, begging him to fuck you harder. But that's for next time, he concludes, right now he just wants you to feel the pleasure of his fingers and tongue. 

Without pausing, he forces your legs apart, spread for him so wide to the point that your body begins to ache at your knees and hips. Jeonghan doesn’t care, his eyes are still trained on your glistening cunt, so exposed for him, all for him. Running a finger against your slit, he tests the waters, and you immediately react with a moan. He’s barely touched you but you’re so responsive; the sounds you’re making practically frying his brain. 

He doesn’t stop because he’s only focused on making you cum against his mouth. Starting with his fingers, he rubs your clit lightly, giving it much-needed attention. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as he continues to play with you. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he grunts before inserting a finger into your sopping hole. “And so tight.” 

You moan as he breaches your entrance with his fingers, the feeling of him inside you making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He takes the intensity up a notch, allowing a second finger past your folds. You’ve never felt this full before, your own fingers feel like nothing compared to Jeonghan’s. 

“Hmm Jeonghan please,” you beg him, for what exactly, you weren’t sure; all you know is that you need more of him. 

Hearing you whiny, breathless and begging for him makes him groan as he watches your face contort with pleasure. The scrunch of your eyebrows as your small hands grip his shoulders in enough to make him cum in his pants. 

He continues his ministrations, pumping into and out of your pussy till the only thing he can hear is your moans and the sound of your walls squelching against his fingers. The familiar feeling of an orgasm is approaching quickly, causing you to spasm against his wet digits. But he doesn’t stop there, instead, he removes his fingers to get on his knees, face levelling with your spent core. 

“So wet for me aren’t you?” he chuckles as you feel his hot breath against your entrance. “I bet you’re as sweet as I imagined too.” 

Taking his tongue he places a long languid lick against your wetness, flicking it up and down till it has you gripping onto his locks. One hand pinning you down as the other teases your hole. 

The feeling of his mouth against your cunt is much more intense than having his fingers inside you. It felt so good, you thought drool was about to escape past your lips. Jeonghan doesn’t go easy on you, even if it’s your first time receiving oral. His mind only focused on feeling you release onto his tongue. 

“Ah! Jeonghan please,” you continue begging, gripping his hair the more his tongue plays with your pussy. 

He ignores your pleading, thrusting his fingers, tongue sucking and biting on your bundle of nerves. You look down at him, his eyes piercing yours as he eats you out. The image of his mouth on your cunt is so lewd, but you love it. You love having him kneel in front of you, doing what he can just so you can reach your orgasm. 

“I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head lolling back as you release onto his tongue. 

“You did so well princess,” he praises you, standing up so that you two are at eye level once more. 

Jeonghan’s chin is wet with your release, his lips red and pouty from how hard he was trying to get you to your climax. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he places his soaked fingers against your lips, forcing you to taste your cum on his fingers. He grins as you obediently lick them clean, imagining it's his cock in your mouth instead. As much as he yearns for more, he stops there, not trying to overwhelm you after such an intense orgasm. 

“Best breakfast I’ve had in a while,” he smirks as he watches you come down from your high. 

Collecting your clothes from the kitchen floor, he places them back on your body. Your mind still buzzing with pleasure, and you couldn’t find the strength to reply to his comments. Instead, you just allow him to carry you into the washroom to get you cleaned up.

VII.

The last time you had seen Jeonghan was the night before school started up again. The two of you didn’t really talk about it after it happened, he just cleaned you up and asked if you wanted to finish the Legos together. He talked to you more about his family but after that, it was mostly silent. You gave up going to bed, tired, and did not want to wake up late for classes the next day. The little ramen shop had been left unfinished, the remaining pieces were few but still scattered on your shared coffee table. 

Now that you were back to your regular schedule you were starting to feel a little rejected, Jeonghan occupying most of your thoughts, did he miss your presence as much as you missed his? How can two people live together but not get to communicate for even a moment? Everything was fine between you two, except for the fact that he was asleep before you left for school, and you were asleep by the time he got home. It left a weird feeling in your stomach that your last interaction with him was the day he ate you out. 

 He isn’t your boyfriend, you’re not sure if he’s even your friend yet, but you two are something. What do you even call a person who you’ve hooked up with and also share an apartment with? There are so many unanswered questions circulating in your brain, but would Jeonghan be able to answer them? It frustrates you how one moment between you changed everything. You’re a smart girl, but when it comes to men it’s like all knowledge has left your head. 

“Y/n, you okay? You’re spacing out,” Seungkwan queried, tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine.” You give him a small smile before refocusing on your lecture.

Seungkwan wasn’t so convinced, he could tell you had a lot on your mind, but he just wasn’t sure what it was. You two have only known each other for a while, so he decided to trust that you were okay, hoping that you would talk to him about it when you were ready. 

“If you say so, but I’m here if you need me.” He gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your shoulder. 

It felt nice to know you had someone to lean on when you needed it, to finally have people around you that are aware of your feelings. You knew from the moment you met him that Seungkwan was going to be one of those people you could be friends with for a long time. He’s so observant, aware of others' feelings, and overall comforting to be around. It made you wonder why you didn’t move earlier, especially because the people you were destined to be friends with were here the whole time. 

“Thanks, Kwan, you’re the best,” you whisper, trying not to disrupt the class going on. 

Even though you tried to focus on what the professor was talking about, your thoughts still led back to the man who lives less than ten feet away from you. 

…

“You did all that with her… on your kitchen counter?” Joshua gives Jeonghan an incredulous look. “Dude we eat there.” 

“Well I was eating wasn’t I?” Jeonghan bites back, not wanting to hear Joshua scold him. 

The two of them are sitting on Joshua’s couch, blunt in hand as they catch each other up on both their lives. It seems that Joshua missed out on a few things since the snowstorm had hit their city. Quite a lot more than he was expecting, but he wasn’t all that surprised. He knows if you put a woman and Jeonghan in a room all alone, something is bound to happen. 

“You’re actually disgusting,” he rolls his eyes, passing the lit blunt over to Jeonghan. “Have you talked to her?” 

Jeonghan sighs, grabbing the weed from his friend to take a hit, the smoke immediately filling his lungs, calming him with every puff that he lets out. 

He hasn’t seen you since the last night of the snowstorm, and he isn’t sure where the two of you stand, but he does know that it won’t be the last time he has you cumming for him. He’ll make sure of it. 

“No, haven’t seen her since that Wednesday,” he shrugs, passing the joint back over to his friend. 

“Bro, what the fuck? It’s Friday, she probably thinks you don’t want to talk to her again.” Joshua gives him a disapproving look, but still takes another puff of the blunt handed over to him. 

Jeonghan wasn’t sure how to reach out to you, he isn’t even the type to go back for seconds either. Yet he wants seconds with you, thirds, and even fourths, but how does he tell you that without sounding like he’s completely simp? It’s just not his style to beg, his pride tends to get in the way. 

“Do you want to talk to her again?” Joshua asks him, curious as to whether this is someone his friend is actually falling for. 

Joshua has watched Jeonghan go through his fair share of girl problems, but in all the years he’s known Jeonghan, he’s never seen him fall in love once. He assumes it’s his mommy issues or the fact that he doesn’t like being tied down to one person, but even then, the most indifferent of people can fall for the right person.

“I do. She’s different, Shua,” Jeonghan sighs, the high finally reaching his brain, the world becoming a fuzzy background. 

That moment with you two building legos that day lives rent-free in his mind, your willingness to open up to him made him feel warm inside. He felt like the Grinch who’s heart grew ten times bigger after watching you be so vulnerable with him. The view he had on you changed completely, from being his annoying roommate to a girl who’s smart, strong, and enjoyable to be around. You two had a lot in common and it surprised him, and it surprised him that he was able to get along with you, despite all the arguing he put you through. 

“Then what the hell are you doing? Talk to her!” Joshuas chastises him, trying to knock some sense into the idiot he calls his friend.

They both look at each other for a moment, eyes red from the weed they had been smoking. A disappointed sigh left Joshua’s lips. Even though he could feel his high hitting him, he felt as though he still had more common sense than Jeonghan had when he was sober.

“And say what? Hey, I liked eating you out, can we do it again?” Jeonghan scoffs, still not sure how to bring up what had gone down that day. 

“Yes? That’s what you want isn’t it?” 

“It is, but that makes me sound like a needy loser,” Jeonghan grimaces before finishing off the rest of the shared joint in hand, leaving the rest in the ashtray on the table in front of him.

“You’re so annoying, let your pride go for once before she starts to resent you again,” Joshua huffs, annoyed that he’s high and still dealing with Jeonghan’s shit, “She literally just forgave you for being an asshole too, so don’t fuck up again please, for my mental health.” 

Although Jeonghan hates to admit it, Joshua is right. He knows that he should at least put effort in talking to you, but he just doesn’t know where to start. Hopefully, you’re still willing to talk to him, or else Joshua might just nag his ear off till he’s old and shrivelled. 

VIII. 

Beep beep beep. Click. 

The sound of the door unlocking brings you out of your thoughts, and you know exactly who it is. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you sit on the couch, attempting to act unbothered as Jeonghan makes his way past the front entrance. Conflicted on whether you should address his presence or not, you decide to continue watching Gossip Girl as if he’s not there. 

“Y/n.” Your heart skips a beat as you hear him call out for you. 

You don’t even look at him, just letting out a “Hmm?”, eyes pretending to be trained on the TV. There’s a little bit of shuffling in the front room before he comes over to sit beside you on the couch. 

Jeonghan settles down a little too close to you, close enough for you to smell the scent of cologne and weed waft off of him and into your nostrils. The smell is strong yet not unpleasant, if anything you felt more attracted to him because of it. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk since…” He trails off, causing you to finally glance over at him.

His eyes were a bit red and glossed over, he must’ve still been a little high. The way he was staring you down like he just wanted to eat you, it was intoxicating. 

“Yeah, I guess we didn’t get to talk about what happened in the kitchen.” You try to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were freaking out. 

Not only because Jeonghan was actually making an effort to talk about what happened, but also because he looks so good right now. The lazy smirk across his face as he slowly invades your space is causing your brain to short circuit. 

Putting his arm around you, he leans into the couch a little more, wanting to fill all his senses with you and you only. “I liked it a lot. I just wanted to let you know.” 

“Oh,” is all you can say as your heart starts to pound in your chest. 

You weren’t sure on how to reply, this is the first time you’ve casually hooked up with someone. It was the first time you’ve hooked up with someone in general, and even though you want to proceed with caution, it’s like all thoughts leave your head when Jeonghan is around you. 

“I liked it too,” you finally tell him, scared he might just be saying all this because he’s still high. 

The same lazy smirk appears his on face again, eyes lidded as he stares at your features. Images of you cumming on his tongue fill his thoughts again; he can already feel all the blood rushing to his lower half. Just the sight of you spread out on the countertop for him could get him to cum in his pants, no matter how experienced he is. It hasn’t happened to him before, but you may just be the first person to get him there. 

“Would you be down to do it again?” he propositions, searching for any type of indication that you would indulge in his darkest fantasies. 

You look at him with uncertainty, even though you liked how he ate you out, would it be worth it to do it again? Would it be worth it to give him a piece of you, one that you thought you were going to save for someone who truly loved you? There’s so many questions you’re asking yourself, but the way Jeonghan’s gaze is trained on you has all those thoughts slipping away from your brain at the speed of light. 

Before even getting the chance to speak, you decide to let your actions do the talking instead. 

With one abrupt motion, you settle yourself on Jeonghan’s lap, immediately placing your lips on his with a sense of urgency. He’s taken aback with how forward you’ve become, but lets himself melt into the kiss regardless. Gripping harshly onto your hips, he kisses you back with as much passion, licking the inside of your mouth as if it holds the answers to all his problems. 

A moan slips past your lips as you feel his growing bulge rub against you through your thin sleep shorts, the way it’s poking at your clothed clit in the most delicious way has you going delirious with pleasure. 

“You sound so pretty when you moan like that,” he breathes against your neck, kissing his way down to your collarbones. 

As you lean more into his touch, Jeonghan’s hands find themselves back under your shorts once more. Gripping the flesh of your ass harshly before reconnecting your lips with his in a sloppy, wet kiss. His touch is hot and addicting like you could spend hours on top of him like this. The feeling of his body under yours has your stomach doing backflips as he continues to kiss you till your lips are bruised and red. 

“More,” you beg him, trying to indulge in all the pleasure he’s giving you. 

Jeonghan pulls away, his eyebrows raising with intrigue as he finally sobers up from his high. He wants nothing more than to take you onto his bed and fuck you like no tomorrow, but he has a feeling that that won’t happen tonight. Not that it bothers him, just that he wants to be in a better state before feeling you around his achingly hard dick. 

It’s so out of character for him to take things slow, especially because he’s always been a one-and-done type of guy. But this is different to him, hooking up with you is like he’s experiencing it all for the first time again. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” The wolfish grin on his face reaches his eyes, satisfied with how cock drunk you look, and he’s barely touched you yet. 

Nodding vigorously with pleading eyes, you grip his biceps in desperation. He doesn’t concede to your request just yet, instead, he simply pulls you off his lap to take you to his room. You follow him wordlessly, nervous as to what he has cooking up in that delinquent brain of his.

He sits you on the bed, telling you to stay put as he ruffles around his room in search of something. As he continued to seek out whatever it was, you began to take a look around his room, realizing that you’d never actually been inside it. The decorations adorning his room made it look so cozy; especially the warm mushroom lamp sitting on his nightstand and the fluffy blankets that lined his bed. The initial impression of his room screamed Jeonghan, especially because it’s so calm and comforting, even if your first impression of him was the complete opposite. After getting to know him a bit more, his personality translates clearly into his choice of decorations. 

“Found it!” he exclaims, turning around to show you what's in his hands.

A small bong in one and a tiny bag of weed in the other. You give him a questioning look but you already know what he is trying to allude to. 

“You want me to try it?” you ask him with uncertainty, but also not completely against the idea. 

He nods before quickly leaving to fill the glass bowl with some water. Only a few seconds later, he returns, taking a seat beside you on his bed. You weren’t sure what to do so you moved to lay against his headboard, watching him as he meticulously prepared the weed to pack into the bowl. His slender fingers wrap around the grinder till the flower is fine enough to smoke. Continuing to observe him, your eyes waver to his form, hunched over next to you as he places a few sprinkles of the drug into the slider. His biceps flex and unflexing with each movement he makes causing your mouth to salivate. You never thought someone could look so attractive simply packing a bowl of weed. 

“I’ll show you how it’s done first,” he smirks, already loving where this is going.

Just because he won’t fuck you tonight doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a little bit of fun in the meantime.

Jeonghan takes his lighter, sparking the drug till it's ready to be inhaled. The water inside the bong begins to bubble as he inhales, allowing the smoke to enter his lungs. Once all the white smoke leaves the stem he holds it in his mouth, dragging you by the arm to bring you closer to him. You aren’t sure where this is going, but you decide to just follow his lead. 

His face comes closer to yours, one hand on the bong to keep it steady, his free hand reaching for the side of your cheek, pulling you into an almost kiss. While his hand is on your cheek, he pulls your lower lip down with his thumb, indicating for you to open your mouth for him. He holds his breath till you comply, not wanting any of the vapour to go to waste. 

Once you do what he wants, he moves in even closer, till your lips are whispering against his. Then he lets go, allowing the smoke to enter your mouth, noses brushing against one another from the close proximity.  

“Be a good girl and inhale it for me,” he mutters, eyes trained on your face as you oblige to his request. 

The smell of the weed and his scent make your insides melt, and you can feel the wetness of your arousal starting to stick to your panties. You know enough about the drug to know that the effects of the weed won’t hit you right away, but the new experience is starting to excite you, making your body jitter with anticipation. 

Placing the bong on your lap, he packs another bowl expertly like it’s his everyday routine. You copy what he did earlier, placing your lips inside the rim and looking at him through your lashes as he lights it up. The water begins to bubble again as you try to inhale as much smoke as possible, but you are only able to take about half of what is in the stem. 

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, causing you to cough a bit from the heat of the smoke. Jeonghan only chuckles at your reaction, finding it endearing how hard you tried to take it all. He finishes off the rest of what’s left, blowing it out once it was inhaled properly before placing the glass onto his nightstand and pulling you onto his lap once more. 

“You did pretty well for a newbie,” he laughs, eyes lighting up as he notices that your gaze is now glossed over, the weed finally taking its effect. 

The heat on your cheeks clearly indicated that you felt flustered, all you wanted now was for him to pleasure you like he did once before. You hide your face into the crevice of his neck, not wanting him to see how red your face has gotten. 

“I didn’t think the first time I’d try weed would be with you,” your voice is muffled, still not really fully grasp the situation, or how you even ended up on his bed both high and horny. 

“Did you enjoy it at least?” he asks you, pulling your face out from where you were hiding. 

You nod, not able to look him in the eye as he rubs his hands up and down your sides, soothing you while your brain becomes foggy with thoughts of only him. Leaning into his touch more, you place a peck on his lips, giggling at how innocent it is compared to the position you’re in right now. He smiles up at you before leaning into you to give you a proper kiss. 

You’re completely engulfed in him, the weed heightening your senses, making you more sensitive to his touch. Every brush of his fingers is like a burst of mini fireworks exploding against your skin. It felt so good, having him in this way, underneath you and feeling the same sensations that you were experiencing. 

He groans as you deepen his kiss, grinding your hips against him just like you did not too long before. Jeonghan’s hands massage your bare thighs, wanting to hold onto you till you are out of breath. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” he mumbles against your lips, and you can only moan back in response. 

“Want you, please Hannie.” Your brain is mush, the nickname slipping past your lips accidentally, but with the way he groans, you can tell he enjoys the sound of it. 

Pulling away from his face completely, he watches your red eyes beg for him to take you. His resolve falters a little bit, but he’s adamant about his decision. He won’t fuck you, not when you’re both high. 

“Not today love, not like this,” he sighs, kissing up your neck, marking you till a little bruise forms. 

You whine, gripping onto his hair, letting the strands flow through your fingers. He enjoys the way you tug at him, his boner twitching underneath you. The feeling of his hard length flush against your clothed core makes you grind against him even faster. It made you wonder what it would feel like if he was actually in you, his length filling your velvet walls, but you don’t mind waiting till you’re actually sober enough to register everything. 

“I want to do something for you though,” you pout, your lip jutted out slightly. 

She’s cute when she’s high, he thinks to himself, enjoying this new side of you. Needy, submissive, just wanting to give yourself up to him. 

“Fuck, you’re adorable,” he says as he rests his head against the headboard, wanting to observe your every feature. “Wanna suck me off? Would you do that for me, baby?” 

You don’t need to be asked twice, getting off his lap till your face is positioned in front of his clothed erection. Jeonghan’s upper body is sat against the headboard, your intoxicating figure between his legs. 

This is the first time you’ve had the opportunity to give someone oral, and you were a little bit nervous about what to do. The anxious look on your face is clear as Jeonghan looks down at you. Luckily enough, you’ve seen a few pornos in your lifetime, so you use that to guide you on what to do next. 

A hand creeps up towards the band of his sweats, pulling down on both his pants and his boxers till his hard member slaps against his stomach. Jeonghan lets out a hiss as the cold air hits his length, the tip red and dripping with pre cum. The length surprised you, and you wondered if it would even fit inside you at all. 

You start by pumping his hardness up and down, collecting the drops of cum to lubricate your movements. Jeonghan gasps at the feeling, watching your small hand wrap around him. The lewdness of the situation turned him on even more. 

“You’re doing well baby,” he lets out with a strangled grunt, trying not to cum at the sight of you playing with him. 

The confidence of his praise radiated throughout your whole body, leading to your rookie mistake. You engulf his length in his mouth, trying to fit the whole thing, just wanting to give him the same pleasure he gives to you. Jeonghan yelps from how quick you are to take him whole, grabbing you by your hair to remove you from his dick. 

“Fuck, just wait, try starting slower, maybe lick it a little first,” he says with laboured breaths, trying to calm down from the heat of your mouth. 

Your cheeks flush from his advice, letting out a small sorry before doing what he says. 

Going slower this time, you stick your tongue out, licking and kissing up and down his member, hearing Jeonghan let out a satisfied sigh. You watch him through your lashes, his eyes lidded and red, filled with want as you continue your ministrations. 

“Just like that, fuck…” he continues to praise you, his fingers carding through the strands of your hair, helping you get it out of your face.

Your confidence peaks again as you begin to take his tip into your mouth. Sucking on it like it was a popsicle on a hot, sunny day. Jeonghan’s head lolls back and he begins to push your head down to take more of him. Going along with the rhythm, you slowly take more and more of him, to the point where his tip starts to hit the back of your throat. It almost makes you choke, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

Jeonghan on the other hand is completely enraptured by you and the way you’re taking his cock so well. The feeling of release slowly starts to creep up as you continue to bob your head down, the sounds of your mouth being fucked by Jeonghan’s member filling the room. 

“I'm close,” He groans, his grip on your hair tightening. 

The pace he set starts to speed up as you continue sucking on him, the underside of his length constantly being brushed by your wet tongue. The hand you placed on his thigh moves to massage the rest of him, the combination of both your hand and mouth sending Jeonghan over that impending edge. 

“Fuuck,” he swears, releasing his sticky load into your mouth. He watches you as you begin to sit up, not sure what to do with his cum, “Swallow it.” 

You do what he says, swallowing his seed. It didn’t taste as horrible as you expected it to, but it was extremely salty, causing you to make a face after. 

He only laughs at you, but pulls you into a kiss, placing you back onto his lap. Jeonghan admires your form, his hands trailing on your soft skin under your shirt. He gives you a look, silently asking permission to take it off of you, making you nod. Pulling it off, he goes straight for your breasts, kissing and sucking on them. You couldn’t help but moan, your hand finding its way to his long hair once again. 

“You must be soaked down there by now,” he mumbles as he continues to pepper kisses along your chest. “Want me to help with that?”

“Please.” 

He smiles against your breasts, clearly enjoying how needy you are getting for him. Grabbing you by the waist, he flips the two of you around till you're laying underneath him. A sound of surprise leaves your lips, but Jeonghan only smirks, ready to devour you. 

The next piece of fabric to leave your body is your shorts, then your panties. He throws them over his shoulder without a care in the world. The only thing he’s focused on right now is to make you feel good. 

He hooks the back of your thigh on his shoulders, your pussy glistening under the ambient lighting. Licking his lips, he doesn’t waste any more time teasing you, diving into the heat of your core. The pads of his fingers are prodding at your entrance, his tongue suckling on your puffy clit. 

The overflow of senses causes your hips to jolt up, and the sound of a half scream half moan fills Jeonghan’s ears. He hums against your mound in approval, enjoying how he has you squirming. The vibrations of his low voice make your eyes roll back, palms gripping the sheets as he continues to lick at your folds. 

“Hannie,” you whine, the nickname sounds like heaven to him coming from you. 

Jeonghan starts to get tunnel vision, focused on getting you to release, fast and hard. Two fingers breach your entrance, pumping in and out of you in a rushed pace. The feeling of his mouth right where you need it causes your spine to tingle, your head still buzzing from the high the weed gave you. This time is much more intense than the last, your legs wrapping themselves around his head like earmuffs as he continues to eat you. 

Every push and pull of his fingers, every lick from his tongue, you feel like you’re going crazy in the best possible way. The sound of him fingering you bouncing off the walls of his bedroom adds to it all. He begins to pay extra attention to your sensitive bud, kissing and sucking until he feels the gush of your orgasm on his fingers. 

“Hannie, please.” You’re practically sobbing from the pleasure, your body trying to recover from the intense climax. 

He looks up at you from where he’s laying, your face fucked out, lips swollen, body covered in purple and red from when he was marking you earlier. You looked like his own personal angel, one that came down from heaven just for him to corrupt. He loved the thought of being able to see you in such a compromising position, legs spread and wet from his saliva and your arousal. The tears falling down your cheeks are his favourite part, the fact that he can have you crying and begging for him in seconds gives him an unexplainable rush. 

Your eyebrows are knitted, breathing laboured from the high Jeonghan gave you. A high that is a million times better than the weed you smoked less than a couple hours ago. 

“You’re so fucking sexy like this angel,” he coins a new pet name for you, it fits you so well. Your body practically glowing after he had his way with you. 

“I’m tired now,” you pout, taking his chin into your hand, and guiding him back to you until the two of you are face to face. 

“You can sleep here if you’d like,” he mumbles, kissing your cheek, then your lips, then your forehead. 

Without a single protest, you get comfortable under his covers, letting his arm wrap around your bare waist as the two of you drift off. The oral sex had sucked out all your energy, literally. The high from the weed began to come down shortly after your orgasm, making your eyes droop and you into a dreamless sleep. 

Jeonghan didn’t fall asleep right away though, instead, he opted to watch your peaceful expression, your breathing becoming even as you lay beside him, your arm on top of his as you held him close. He’s completely enamoured by your beauty, it really does feel like you are his personal angel, one sent in disguise as a once annoying roommate. His view of you has completely changed; his thoughts lately have all been connected to you, to the point where he doesn’t think about anything else. None of it settled right with him. The fact that a single thought about you brought him peace, a feeling he didn’t get to experience as often till you. 

 For the first time in his life, he allowed someone he’s hooked up with to stay the night, not being able to bear the thought of sending you to your own room. He wants to be beside you, even if it means he is breaking the rules he’s set up for himself. 

…

When you wake up the first thing you hear is someone snoring in your ear. At first, it alarms you, till you remember you fell asleep in Jeonghan’s bed last night. Your eyes are wide as saucers when you realize that he’s the one gripping your waist while you lay with your back towards him. But what makes your heart skip a beat is how he didn’t ask you to go back to your room after you hooked up. You recall the fact that none of Jeonghan’s previous flings were allowed the stay the night. He didn’t have to tell you that, but you knew from observation that it wasn’t something he let just anyone do. It makes you feel special knowing he asked you, that’s until you recall what type of relationship you two have. 

To him, you’re just another girl he’s hooking up with, there’s no label on it. He hasn’t taken you on a date or told you he likes you, so what are you to him? Just his roommate he likes to have fun with? It made your head hurt thinking about it so early in the morning. 

You turn to face him, his grip unconsciously tightening with your slight movement. Taking a closer look at him, you’re surprised at how calm he looks while he’s asleep. His face was in a rested state, with no smirk, not even a furrow of the eyebrow. Just Jeonghan. 

A strand of hair covers his face, tickling his nose. Before you can think, your hand moves to brush the single strand away, placing it behind his ear as he continues to sleep. 

The fact you can even lay here, this close to him, watch him rest peacefully, made your heart do backflips. If someone were to watch from an outside perspective they would assume the two of you are dating, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. The lines of your “friendship” with him have blurred since you two started hooking up, and it’s making you wonder if you should detach from him before things get increasingly complicated. 

You sigh out loud, taking one last look at Jeonghan’s sleeping form. Giving him a kiss on the forehead before you collect your clothes and leave his room. 

 IX. 

“So you’re telling me that you and Jeonghan have been hooking up?!” Seungkwan’s jaw drops. “Like Jeonghan, Jeonghan? Yoon Jeonghan, the one I specifically warned you about?” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at your friend as you watch his reaction to what you just told him. Honestly, it’s still hard for even you to believe, that you literally live with the man. 

Seungkwan invited you for a study session, which failed miserably after hours passed just catching up. You two decided to just give up and go to the dining hall to eat lunch instead, and then he asked you how things were going with your roommate, one thing led to another, and now you’re getting an earful. 

“Yes! Last time I recalled, there’s only one Jeonghanwe both know.” You roll your eyes at him, not wanting him to air out your business to the rest of the students in the dining hall. 

He side-eyes you, but you don’t want to hear it from him. You already knew that whatever you had going on with Jeonghan was a bad idea, you didn’t need Seungkwan to tell you that too. 

“I hope you’re being careful Y/nie,” he sighs. “Jeonghan and feelings don’t mix.” 

You hate to admit it, but he’s right, you know Jeonghan is trouble, but you can’t help but continue to give in to his temptation every time he’s around you. 

“I know. I’m trying, but honestly, I’m scared—” Your conversation gets cut off by your phone ringing Your heart drops to the pits of hell when you see the contact ID flashing on the screen. Mom. 

You scramble to pick up the phone, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you hear your mom’s voice through the speaker. 

“Y/n? Me and your father would like to have a chat with you,” your mom sighs, the background sounding busy, kind of like how busy it sounds in the dining hall right now. 

“M-mom? What? Why?” you stuttered. 

Now you’re even more worried because your mom doesn’t call you unless it’s absolutely necessary. Your relationship has never been good, but it got increasingly worse when you told them you were moving away.

Seungkwan who is sitting across from you peers at you with curious eyes. He’s one of the only people who know what you’re parents are like. There have been many drunk conversations about how much you resented them, and he would be there to comfort you every time. 

“Well, we’ve come to visit, that’s why,” she declared. 

Shit, shit, shit. You’re absolutely fucked. 

“Huh? Why?” you continue to press her for answers. 

The beating of your heart intensifies as you begin to look around the dining hall, immediately zeroing in on the woman who looks exactly like your mom. If the world ended today, you would die happy. Nothing scares you more than having the people you ran away from showing up at your doorstep, a metaphorical doorstep in this situation. 

She spots you almost immediately, your dad points you out because you were probably the only two people who were talking on the phone right now. 

The line drops dead the moment you two make eye contact, and for the first time in months, you feel exactly the same way you did when you were still a child. Fearing your parents, having to be around them, enduring their every insult, it was all rushing back to you. You could feel the bile rise in your throat, eyes glossy as she makes her way to your table. 

“Y/n,” her tone was still as cold as the day you left. 

She glances over at Seungkwan with a grimace, the same one she gave you growing up. It angers you how easy it is for her to look down on one of the people you care about most, but Seungkwan isn’t the one to cower over anyone. He returns her scowl before promptly bidding you farewell, emphasizing that you should text or call him when you are free. You know that it was Seungkwan’s way of telling you to be careful and that he’s here for you once your parents leave. To say the least, you’re grateful that he’s your friend. 

“Mom, dad,” you match her tone. 

Standing up from your table, you finally meet with her at eye level, putting on a brave face, attempting to show her you’re not scared of her like you once were. You’re older now, but for some reason every time you’re around your parents you feel like that little girl again. The one who didn’t know why her parents couldn’t give her an inkling of their affection, a girl whom they raised through nannies, the same little girl they abandoned time and time again. 

“We just wanted to know where our daughter is going to school,” your dad says sternly, his cold demeanour unwavering. “We can’t just pay for it without knowing.”

“We also want to see where you’re living.” your mom adds, looking around to judge the state of the dining hall. 

You sigh, a part of you should’ve expected they would come to visit at least once, they are still paying for your tuition. Even then, you just didn’t want to think about seeing them again, just imagining it stresses you out beyond belief. You should’ve known they’re only concerned because they invested their money into you and going to school here. You’ve learnt a long time ago that their money will always be more important to them than their own daughter. Always. 

…

In the past few hours, they forced you to tour them around the campus, meet with almost every professor you had for the term, and request a report of your grades from the admissions office. The exhaustion caught up with you quickly, physically and mentally. You felt bad for any of your professors who decided to leave their office hours open, even though it was a Saturday. Watching their confused expressions as they endured every question your parents had asked them.

You walked with them to your apartment in complete silence, and all you could think about was whether Jeonghan was home or not. The day went by excruciatingly slow yet you still didn’t have enough time to warn him about your parents' surprise visit. 

Once you finally reached your building, you let them in begrudgingly, their faces filled with disgust as they invaded your space. Your mom is especially annoying, running her fingertips against the counters to check for dust; her designer bad tucked securely against her body as if someone was about to break into the apartment at any moment. 

You roll your eyes at her actions, offended that she thought that way of your home. Especially because you deemed it as a safe place to live, not really having any issues since you moved in.

“Y/n, you’re home?” Jeonghan calls out for you from his side of the apartment, causing you to jump slightly from the sudden sound of him shuffling around. 

Your parents give you an inquisitive look, confused as to why you didn’t mention that you were living with a roommate. 

Jeonghan emerges from the bathroom, shirtless and his long hair damp, using a towel to dry his hair. Your eyes widen at the sight, and you can hear your mom audibly gasp behind you. The blush on your cheeks grows as you start to fully register the situation you’re in. 

Before you could even begin to answer him, your mom tugged your arm harshly, pulling you into your bedroom before closing the door. 

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?!” she practically screams, as if she caught you in the middle of doing the deed. Her eyes are wide, completely in shock at the fact that you’re living with someone else, especially because the person you’re living with is of the opposite gender. 

“Y/n, why didn’t you mention that you’re living with someone, let alone a man,” your dad doesn’t raise his voice, but you could tell that he was equally as pissed as your mom. 

Oh, this is really bad, you thought. You couldn’t even look them in the eyes, not sure how to respond to their harsh inquiries. A part of you wants to cry, scream, anything, just so that they would leave. Praying to god that they would just go back to your hometown, and not to be seen again. 

“I was thinking that I needed a place to live, and I can’t possibly pay rent alone,” you shrug, the anger starting to rush through your veins. 

You’re done with your parents, you’re done with their constant ridicule, their need to judge everyone with their noses up in the air, as if they’re better than every person they pass as if they’re better than their own child.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re mother actually gave birth to you, because if she did, why does she treat you like an investment instead of a daughter? 

“You’re being incredibly stupid Y/n, we will not tolerate what you’re doing here,” your mom scolds you like you’re a child. “You better come back home, this place isn’t up to standard! You live with a guy who looks like he sells drugs for god’s sake.” 

“He has a name you know, and he doesn’t sell drugs!” you say with exasperation, tired of the constant criticism and belittling. 

“You don’t get to talk to us like that,” your father seethes, eyes blazing with anger. 

“I don’t need you two, you know. I had enough money to pay for the tuition, but yet you offered!” you yell. “If you two don’t like that I’m living with a man, then fine. I don’t care, cut me off! I’m tired of the two of you judging my every move, it’s the reason why I moved out in the first place. Do you even care about me? Or are you just here to make sure you’re getting your money’s worth?” 

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at us, young lady,” your mother threatened, pointing a finger at you. 

“See! You guys don’t even deny it,” you’re practically on the verge of tears, but you try to stay strong, “I’m not sorry for moving out, if anything it was the best decision I’ve made in my entire life.” 

“It better be because we will not accept you if you decide to come back to us when your money runs out,” your dad huffs, not even addressing anything else you’ve said prior. 

This is so typical of them, ignoring your desperate pleas to just admit that they don’t really care about you. It frustrates you beyond belief, but at least now you’re sure. This little visit of theirs confirms they don’t have a loving bone in their body. 

“Leave. I don’t want you contacting me ever again,” you sneered, motioning over to the door. 

As quickly as they came, they left without sparing you another glance as they made their way out of your home. 

Once they had gone, you felt everything in your body collapse, the stress of your fight with your parents finally catching up to you. 

X.

౨ৎ before Y/n comes home with her parents

Jeonghan woke up that morning with a lingering feeling of exhaustion from last night. He stirred in his sleep, subconsciously reaching for your warmth to realize that you were already gone; your half of his bed was left cold, the sheets wrinkled with the memory of where you had slept. 

There was a tight feeling in his chest knowing you didn’t stay in bed with him, but he kept reminding himself he had no right to yearn for you. He doesn’t have the right to ask you to stay, to cuddle with him, laugh with him. Jeonghan doesn’t feel as though he has the right to admire the crinkle in your eyes when you smile wide, or the way he can see the stars shining in your eyes when you talk mindlessly about your passions. 

After everything, Jeonghan knows he doesn’t have the right to you. He knows all these things, and he knows enough to convince himself to not pursue you, but he’s a selfish being, and like the selfish being Jeonghan is, he only wants you. 

Jeonghan spent the rest of his Saturday in peace, or at least that is what it would seem like from an outsider’s perspective. In reality, his every waking thought is about you, or what you are doing, or who you are with. It feels so foreign to him, thinking about a girl he’s barely slept with. The fact that he is concerned about you scares him, but he still can’t stop himself from wondering anyway. 

Instead of facing his feelings head-on, he does what he does best—calling up Joshua and asking him to get high.

“It’s fine if you like her,” Joshua mumbles, trying to cure his munchies by snacking on turtle chips, “What did you expect? You spend so much time with her, she’s literally your roommate.” 

The two of them sit on the couch, taking hits back and forth while watching South Park, their favourite show to binge while they get high. Except Jeonghan could barely pay attention when you are constantly tormenting his innermost thoughts. Not even a high that has saved him countless times could save him from you. 

“Is it normal to think about someone this often? I feel like I’m going crazy,” Jeonghan sighs, taking another hit from Joshua’s dab pen. 

“You’re not going crazy, you’re just falling in love.” 

XI. 

 ౨ৎ after the fight with y/n’s parents

The soft knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to move from where you sit lifelessly, tears staining your cheeks. Your limbs feel heavy like your muscles were a pile of bricks. The few steps from the door feel like it’s taking hours, the weight of the door knob causing your wrist to ache. 

By the time you open the door, the first thing your eyes meet is the worrying look on Jeonghan’s face. His eyebrows knotted, lips turned down in a frown. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and shield you from all the horrors of the world. That's what he tries to do at least, running up to you to hold you close. 

What he expected was for you to welcome him with open arms, allowing him to give you the same warmth you give him. What really happened gave him a shock, one that quickly turned into hurt then into betrayal. 

You begin to cry harder, sobs raking your body by the second, all the while Jeonghan tries to engulf you in a hug. What he assumed would bring you comfort only overwhelmed you even more. Your cries are inconsolable, your breathing uneven, causing you to hiccup as he tries to invade your space. Although you don’t mean it, your instincts take over you, pushing him away as hard as you can.

“Get the fuck away from me!” you scream through each hiccup, your arms in front of you as you try to get him as far away as possible. 

Jeonghan feels hurt, the way you beg him not to touch you breaks something inside him, something that he isn’t sure he can fix alone. He wants to be there for you, but clearly, all you want is to be alone. 

“I’m sorry Y/n,” is all he says as he backs away from you, closing your door with a reverberating slam.

…

It had been a week after the incident and you still haven’t mustered up the courage to talk to Jeonghan. Guilt brews in your stomach every time you think about what happened, the look on his face, the hesitation in his actions, it’s all burned into your memory. You aren’t sure why you had cried so hard, and what compelled you to react to his comfort in that way, but you can’t help but feel sorry. All Jeonghan wanted to do was help you, and you pushed him away. 

You pick at the food on your plate as you're surrounded by the rowdiness of the dining hall, Soonyoung and Seokmin argue about something incoherable beside you. Tuning everything out, you can only think about Jeonghan, what he could possibly be doing right now, and if he’s thinking about you just like how you’re thinking of him. 

“Y/n, is everything okay?” your highly observant friend asks, his eyes practically piercing into your soul. 

Soonyoung and Seokmin go silent as they look at you and then back at Seungkwan, worried as to why you’re looking so glum. Seokmin who is sitting beside you, puts his arm around your shoulder, trying to comfort you, even though he isn’t sure why you’re so upset. 

“Huh? Yeah just thinking about that fight I had with my parents,” you frown, playing with the sad-looking mashed potatoes on your plate. Your fork makes patterns mindlessly as you keep recalling the look on their faces when you finally explode. 

“I’m sorry that happened Y/n, I’m sure they’ll come around eventually,” Seokmin whispers to you, patting your head. 

Glancing up at your friend, you return his smile half-heartedly. You weren’t sure how to tell them that you practically got disowned. The thought of it makes you feel like you’re about to throw up, but the thought of Jeonghan makes you feel even more sick. 

“I’m more worried about the fact that Jeonghan and I haven’t spoken since that night,” you sigh. “I pushed him away while he was trying to comfort me, and I’m sure he heard my parents call him all those nasty things, and I haven’t talked to him since then.” 

The three stooges look at each other, like they’re speaking telepathically before looking back at you with a pitiful expression. They all knew how involved you got with your roommate, but they weren’t aware of how deep you had gotten with him. Of course, they are worried, but they also understand that you’re old enough to make your own decisions. 

“I know we warned you about him darling, but I’m sure if you talk to him, you’ll be able to clear things up properly,” Seungkwan squeezes your hand reassuringly.

You give him a grateful look, thanking the universe once again for gifting you such good friends. 

“Fuck your parents actually, we’ll be your new family Y/nie,” Soonyoung gives you a deathly serious look, his goofiness causing a laugh to erupt from your lips. “Let us know what happens with Jeonghan when the time comes.” 

There’s a reason why your parents came to visit that night, and maybe this is the universe telling you that you needed to sever your connection with them so that you can finally be free. Allowing you to find a new family actually worth caring about. 

XII. 

The sound of your broken voice, the way you pushed him away, replays in Jeonghan’s head constantly. He tried everything to erase it from his memory. The non-stop partying, drinking, getting high with Joshua– nothing worked. Even before bed, when he starts to feel sleep take over him, his eyes shoot open again with the image of you screaming at him, crying deliriously. 

Then he remembers your warm smile, your laugh and the way it would delightfully ring through his ears. All the good memories he’s kept in his mind, all replaced with you. He continues to ask himself, how did this all come to be? After all the bickering, how did he end up falling for you? Was it the intimacy you two shared? Or did Jeonghan’s subconscious just know that you were meant to bring him down to earth, to be the one who pulls his head out of the clouds. 

For a long time, Jeonghan had known he was floating, soulless, just a shell of a human before you came along. No one has ever brought such an array of emotions out of him before. Constantly going through the motions of life, fucking a different girl every day, getting high to numb a pain he couldn’t pinpoint. 

He thought he knew himself enough, he thought that not having his mom around didn’t affect him. But it did, and the moment he told you about her absence, he started to realize that it affected him more than he’d like to admit.

It was the look in your eyes, the comfort that was behind them, the lack of pity but more of a sense of empathy. He just felt comfortable, he felt like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him, or make him feel like he’s some charity case, you were just you.

Flashback to y/n and jeonghan bonding…

The ramen shop was practically done, with just a few more pieces left to spare before you two have completed the whole thing. Jeonghan sat beside you, both of your backs against the base of the couch, legs crisscrossed. 

It was the day after you two shared your first kiss, yet you couldn’t help but still act shy around him. Even though it was only a few hours after he had given you oral on the kitchen counter. There was minimal conversation between the two of you, just slowly putting pieces of Lego together. The silence was comfortable, and it surprised you how serene you felt just being around him.  It was still a little hard to believe because just a few days ago you couldn’t stand being around one another.

It wasn’t until Jeonghan decided to break that silence, making you believe he felt just as calm around you as you were with him.

“You know how I told you yesterday, that it was only me and my dad?” he speaks up. “Well, my mom would visit me from time to time, hoping my dad had money to spare whenever she went broke.”

You don't dare say a word, just listening to what he has to say, letting him finally pour his feelings into someone who actually cares about what he has to say. 

 “I would hold so much anger towards her. For not being there, for not caring about me or my dad unless money was involved,” he continued. “She would get what she wanted and leave the next day. No thank you, no calls, nothing. As a kid, I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just stay, or why she couldn’t just tell me once that she loved me. I still hold resentment towards her to this day.” 

He looked so sorrowful, and your heart aches for him, especially because you could relate to not hearing the words “I love you”, longing for that person to just tell you, even if it was only once. The constant begging, wishing upon a star that you would hear words of affection from someone who didn’t care, you knew it all too well. 

Instead of saying anything, you pull Jeonghan into a hug, tight to the point he could feel his lungs constrict. It wasn’t even from lack of air, only utter and complete surprise, as well as the shock of feeling sparks flowing throughout his body as you held him close. He didn’t say anything after that, just allowing himself to be held by you, allowing himself to feel an ounce of affection that he was never able to receive from his mother. It was to the point that tears almost spilled from his eyes, but he did his best to keep them at bay, his pride always preceding him in everything. 

It was that day that Jeonghan knew he couldn’t possibly let someone like you go so easily, and that if he really let himself, he could fall for you, hard. 

XIII.

The sound of the TV echoing throughout your apartment shocks you as you enter. You didn’t expect Jeonghan to be home so early, it makes you nervous. The same guilty feeling you felt earlier swirls in your stomach; your process of removing your winter coat is slow as you try to buy yourself time, preparing for what type of explanation you’re going to give him. 

You take a whole five minutes to get yourself settled before heading over to the living room, Jeonghan’s face glowing due to the light of the screen, his expression sombre. Probably because he knows you’re home, but is also unsure of whether or not to call out for you. 

The tension is thick, and it makes your saliva hard to swallow, but you want to talk to him. After everything that happened, you just miss his presence, his scent, his teasing, everything.

“Oh, look who decided to finally show up,” he glances at you, his eyes taking in your frame. 

You scoff, offended by how hostile he’s acting. Although you can’t blame him for not welcoming you with open arms, you didn’t expect him to act like this. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” you spit, your face burning with a growing anger. 

Jeonghan lets out a bitter laugh, and it makes you grimace, you can’t believe his reaction, he’s acting the same way he did when he first met you. His anger always besting him, even when he knows nothing good will come from it. 

“Just didn’t want to overstep, you were pissed off at me the last time I saw you,” he scoffs, pausing the show he was watching on the TV. 

He stares at you, waiting for your next move. The look on his face is comparable to when you first met him, when you two first fought. It wasn’t the Jeonghan you had grown used to. 

“I didn’t mean to push you away, and I’m sorry, I was in a really bad state and I wasn’t thinking right,” you exasperate. Your hands flailing all over the place trying to explain your actions from that night. 

Jeonghan doesn’t move a muscle, he’s obviously hurt by what you did. But you are even more hurt, having to finally face your parents and watch them admit to caring about you. Them always avoiding your pleas of just admitting they didn’t really love you, spoke louder than any words they could’ve ever said. If there was one person in the world who could understand that pain, it should be Jeonghan.But here he is, his own hurt and rejection turning into the anger that he’s directing at you. 

“We could’ve talked after you had calmed down, I thought you knew I would be there for you, but you ignored me,” he raises his voice, standing up from the couch to meet eye-to-eye with you. 

As he stalks over, your voice becomes caught in your throat. He towers over you, the blazing frustration prominent in his eyes, and yet you know him well enough to know that it’s all a front for his hurt. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t and I’m sorry, how many times do I have to tell you?” You articulated. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me after what happened, after what my parents called you! I’m ashamed at the fact they misjudged you like that.” 

“I don’t care about what your parents think of me, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, I only care what you have to say.” 

“W-what?” you stutter, not sure what point Jeonghan is trying to make. 

He sighs, running his hands through his long hair. It annoyed you how good-looking he is, even when you two are in the middle of screaming at each other. Your resolve slowly starts to chip away the longer you look at him. 

“You really think those hookups meant nothing to me? I confided in you about something I’ve never told anyone, not even Josh,” he admits, his breathing picking up as he stares at you, searching your eyes for any indication that you felt the same. 

His words resound through the apartment, and you feel it send a shock down your spine. You thought everything you felt for him was one-sided, that you would eventually get hurt by the fact that he could never reciprocate your feelings. The once playboy who you thought didn’t surrender to any woman, let alone someone who you thought he hated not too long ago, is surrendering his feelings to you. 

“You care about me?” is the first question you ask. 

“Of course, I care about you Y/n. I can’t sleep or eat properly because you’re tormenting every crevice of my brain. I thought I was going crazy because no one has ever had this effect on me,” he confesses, his eyes still trained on yours. “Every waking moment, when I’m asleep, you’re all I can think about. A-and it’s so frustrating, it’s frustrating how I just want to be around you all the time, I just want to care for you.” 

You don’t even know what to say, your mouth goes dry. Jeonghan can see that you’re struggling to find the words, and he takes it as a sign that you don’t feel the same way. His body slowly moves away from yours, trying to remove himself from the scene, not wanting to wait to hear your rejection. 

“I like you too,” you finally reply. 

Words so simple compared to Jeonghan’s confession, and yet the surge of emotion it brought out of him is of a higher magnitude even he cannot understand. The swell in his chest, his heart beating a hundred miles an hour after hearing you confess in such a simple way. All he cares about is that you feel the same. 

Instead of saying more, you just pull him into a kiss, allowing his lips to dance against yours, and that’s enough for him. Your actions do all the talking for you. 

“Say it again,” he mumbles, his lips close enough to yours that you could his breath fan your face. 

“I like you, Jeonghan.” 

He captures you again, moving against you till your back is pressed against the wall. Caged in his hold, his hands tighten on your waist, not wanting to let you slip away from him any longer. His tongue slipped past your mouth, licking you up with so much passion but still filled with care and tenderness. 

You moan as his hands rub against your sides, feeling him everywhere, breathing in his scent. His hand moves to the back of your head, not wanting you to feel any discomfort from being flush with the wall. It’s the small things that he does, his calculated actions always making your heart swell. You know it’s probably a force of habit, but the fact that he doesn’t anyway reveals his caring nature, a piece of him you never thought existed till you started hooking up with him. 

“I want you,” you break away from the kiss to tell him. 

You search his eyes, examining how they’ve gotten heavy with lust, you know he felt the same. Jeonghan only nods, taking your hand to bring you to the room. You know what’s coming, and you initiated it. Even though you asked for it, the nervousness in your stomach still doesn’t subside. 

The lights were dim, the sunset leaking past your curtains, making your skin glow angelically. Jeonghan stares at you with awe, your features highlighted by the gleam of the sun rays. He knows you’re beautiful, he admires you even when you don't notice it. But there is something about the way you look right now, the anticipation of this moment, as well as your nervous blush; it causes all his thoughts to come to a halt the moment his gaze lands on you. 

“Please Jeonghan, fuck me,” you beg him, the arousal between your legs gets harder to ignore with each second that passes, “I’m ready.” 

“Whatever you want, as long as you’re sure,” He gives you a serious look, just wanting some form of consent. 

“Yes please,” you whine, reattaching your lips on his. 

He doesn’t hesitate anymore, allowing himself to get drunk on your touch instead. Slowly moving over to the bed, you feel the back of your knees hit the mattress. You let yourself fall, Jeonghan laying on top of you, showing you no mercy as he places kisses tenderly along the base of your neck. Soft exhales leave your lips as he continues to shower you with affection, the now-familiar feeling of pleasure swirling in your stomach once again. 

Jeonghan takes his time, he’s in no particular rush when it comes to you. All his past hookups were finished within an hour or so. With you it’s different, he could adorn your body with love till morning, and some more after that. He sucks and licks your neck till bruises form, then sits back to admire his work. The smirk on his face is filled with satisfaction, your needy gaze causing his hardening member to constrict against his jeans. 

“I wanna make you feel good first,” He declared, giving you space to properly lay down on your bed, your clothed core facing him, legs spread. 

He moves down, laying between your thighs, unbuttoning your jeans without a word. His teasing nature comes into play as he spends an excruciatingly long time taking off your clothes. The impatience that you’re feeling starts to grow, taking off your shirt and bra as he finishes removing the remaining clothes from your bottom half. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, his face so close to your core that his nose nudges your clit slightly. The shocks of pleasure crawling up your spine and he’s barely laid a finger where you need him most. 

“So needy, I adore that about you,” he mumbles.

He peppers soft kisses up your legs till he latches his lips on your pussy. Licking your folds all while he ignores your swelling bud. He could practically feel it pulsing every time he brushed past it slightly. Jeonghan loves the way you taste, so sweet and wet, your juices leaking past your entrance and onto your sheets. If he could, he would just stare at you from this position for hours. Watching you whine and writhe within his hold, begging for him to touch you. 

“I need you to eat me out,” you keep begging, “make me cum please.” 

“Such filthy words coming out of that pretty little mouth,” he tsks, but he gives in to your request anyway.

His tongue lays a flat strip against your mound, licking up what’s left of your dripping arousal. One hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread, while his free hand teased your entrance before fully plunging two fingers in. The feeling of his fingers filling up your hold causes you to let out a salacious moan, your back arching off the bed. You look like you came straight out of a porn movie and Jeonghan can’t take his eyes off your expression. 

His long slender fingers hit you right where you need it, making you keen, the sound of your wetness squelching is like music to Jeonghan’s ears. Stars are starting to form behind your eyelids as his tongue suckles on your clit, getting you close to completion embarrassingly fast. 

Your hands move down to grip Jeonghan’s hair, pulling at the strands as you try your best to focus on your orgasm, thoughts of him fucking you on your bed filling your thoughts. Imagining his length slide inside you triggers your release, the gush of your arousal filling his mouth. Jeonghan groans, your tight pussy gripping his fingers as he feels you cum. 

“Mmh Hannie,” your words are barely discernable as you try to come down from your high. 

He moves back up to place a kiss on your lips before getting rid of his clothes. You watch him with a fucked-out look. Eyes lidded, pupils blown, you’re practically salivating as you stare at Jeonghan’s slender but toned frame. He smirks when he notices you ogling, moving to hover over you, the feeling of his hard cock brushing past your leg. 

Placing his lips back on yours, you two lay there for a minute, kissing and touching each other. Jeonghan just wants to savour you as if this moment is his last, even though that is not the case, he will continue to treat you this way till there’s a time when he can’t do so anymore. 

“Please, fuck me, please I need it,” you blabber against his lips, not wanting to wait another second. 

“Do you have a condom?” He pulls away to ask you. 

“I want it raw. I’m clean, promise,” you tell him in between kisses. 

The moment you mentioned fucking raw, it’s like Jeonghan’s brain went haywire, thoughts of feeling you completely plague his brain. The thought of getting to feel you without the thin plastic in the way, he would die happily with a smile on his face. 

“Fuck are you sure? I’m clean too, but are you really sure baby?” He continues to ask you, not wanting this to be a rash decision you would regret after. 

“I’m on the pill, it’s ok, trust me,” you assure him, the neediness in your voice becoming stronger. 

Jeonghan’s member twitches against you, making you aware of the fact that he likes the idea of it all. He mumbles incoherent swears against your lips as he tries to collect himself, not wanting to blow a load prematurely. He may be experienced but the thought of fucking you raw could get him to cum untouched. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, moving to sit back on his heels, lining up his dick with your entrance, the tip red and leaking with precum. He rubs it against your folds to coat himself in your slick before collecting his spit, the saliva dropping onto his shaft and adding to the lubrication. Moans leave your lips as you feel his prod at you with his length, the pleasure going off in waves. Looking down, he watches his member gliding against your pussy lips, and you just watch him enjoy himself. It's agonizing, being this close and still not feeling him enter. 

“I’m going crazy, please, just put it in,” you whine, laying with your elbows supporting you, watching Jeonghan tease you relentlessly. 

“You better watch your mouth before I make you suck me off instead,” he warns you, his domineering side coming out again. 

You shut up quickly, trying to calm yourself before you combust with impatience. Something about Jeonghan makes you so needy for him, the eagerness to feel him finally fuck you after not having any penetrative sex starting to pile up on you. You’re a virgin but for Jeonghan it was like another version of you unleashes itself when he’s pleasuring you. Constantly craving his touch, wanting to feel his mouth on you, he’s just so addictive. 

Jeonghan finally pushes himself past your entrance, letting his cock fill you completely. Tears start to sting your eyes from the stretch, you knew it was going to hurt, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this feeling. He doesn’t stop though, slowly thrusting in and out till you get used to the feeling. 

The discomfort leaves shortly after, letting pleasure rush through your veins, and you whine out for him, your head thrown back against your pillow. His length continues to hit that sensitive part against your walls, making you clench around him. 

“F-fuck you’re so tight,” He groans, removing himself from your sopping core till only his tip remains. 

Jeonghan takes the back of your thighs, pushing them against your chest before thrusting into you again. The angle is deeper this time and you almost let out a scream as he grinds his hips against yours. 

“Jeonghan, feels so good,” you call out deliriously, your brain hazed with pleasure. 

He leans in so the two of you are chest to chest, peppering your face with kisses as he continues you fuck you. The feeling of your tight walls constricting against his dick is making him twitch inside you. He’s never had raw sex with anyone before, but now that he knows what it feels like, he won’t ever go back, but only for you. You’re the only one he wants to see filled with his cum. The only one who he gets to plant his seed in and watch it drip out after. 

“Shit,” Jeonghan swears, feeling your grip on him. 

Your pussy starts to convulse with every thrust, and he knows you’re about to cum. Taking things up a notch, he begins to pound himself into you, and the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout your room. His hand snakes down to your clit to rub it in circles, making your vision go white. 

He leans back again, holding your legs open and in the air, hypnotizing himself with the sight of his member disappearing inside you. The feeling of his orgasm coming closer as you continue squeezing him tight. 

“Gonna cum,” you moan, your chest pounding, pussy sore from the beating it’s taking. 

Jeonghan knows he’s close too, and once he senses your orgasm on his cock he cums shortly after, groaning as he fills you to the brim. The feeling of his cum spilling in you satisfies you in a way you didn’t think was possible, and you know you’re going to be asking him to do so every time. 

“You make me crazy, that’s the best orgasm I’ve had,” he admits. 

Jeonghan’s breathing is laboured, letting go of your legs as he lays himself against your chest. You brush through his hair while giggling at his sudden confession, it makes you blush, especially knowing his history. You could still feel him inside you, and for some reason you liked it, just having him lay there with his length engulfed in your walls. 

“Who would’ve thought we would’ve ended up like this,” you mumble, still running your fingers through his strands, his face smothered in your breasts, kissing them tenderly. 

“You put a spell on me or something,” his voice muffled into your chest, “I’m obsessed with you now, so you can’t get rid of me.” 

You laugh at his declaration, kissing the top of his head. The fact that he’s clingy with you after sex is surprising, but endearing at the same time. 

“Do you want to finish building our ramen shop?” Jeonghan asks, lifting his face from where he’s lying on you.

You give him an inquisitive look, wondering why that’s the first thing he asks you after he just defiled you and took your virginity. But you don’t mind it either, you had almost forgotten about the scattered pieces that sat on top of the coffee table, waiting to be completed. 

“We can if you want, but maybe we should clean up first,” you giggle. 

The sound of your laughter rings through Jeonghan’s ears, making his chest swell with happiness. He never thought that the sound of your voice would bring him so much joy. The initial dread when he heard your voice turned into something more. It may be too early to tell you he loves you, but he knows he’s getting there, and this time he isn’t scared. This time Jeonghan doesn’t mind the fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you, or the fact that sparks fly when you touch him. 

He had once thought that he was going mad because of the emotions you evoked out of him, but now he understands. He understands that he’s meant to fall for you; the angel who came down to earth to teach him that there's more to life than just going through the motions. 

Epilogue. 

“Seugkwan,” your boyfriend grimaces as he sees your best friend approach your table in the dining hall. 

“Jeonghan.”

Seungkwan gives Jeonghan a good look up and down, his analytical eyes scanning him as if he can see through your boyfriend's soul. He glowers at the way Jeonghan’s hand holds your thigh possesively, hating how easily it was for him to slither his way into your mind and dicknotize you. 

That’s what Seungkwan likes to call it, scolding you about how Jeonghan hypnotized you with his dick. You found it silly how he could come up with such a word, but for some reason, it’s now a coined term within your friend group. 

“Kwan, are you going to just stare at him all day or are you going to sit down?” You sigh, wondering why the two of them just don’t seem to get along. 

Seungkwan huffs, his stubborn personality not allowing him to sit down till he’s won, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to win, but his watchful gaze on Jeonghan keeps him standing. 

“That depends, will Jeonghan disappear if I decide to take a seat?” He rebutted, his chin held up high. 

You laugh at how dramatic he is, but you know that Seungkwan acknowledges how much Jeonghan has changed. Even after knowing him for so many years, he’s seen how much nicer Jeonghan has been to him and the two dummies named Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“No, he won’t, unfortunately,” you sigh, “but I want you here, so sit.” 

“Yeah, Seungkwan sit,” Jeonghan smirks, until he realizes what you had just said, “Wait what? Unfortunately? Baby, why would you say that?” 

Seungkwan laughs at Jeonghan’s butt-hurt face, finally taking a seat across from the two of you. He watches as Jeonghan pesters you on what you meant by “unfortunately”. Whining about how you said that you would stop teasing him in front of your friends. 

Even though Seungkwan likes to pretend that he doesn’t like Jeonghan, he’s really started to see Jeonghan's true personality when he’s not acting like a complete asshole. And as long as he’s treating you right, he doesn’t actually care if you two are dating. If you're happy, Seungkwan’s happy. 

“Okay! Stop acting like a kid, I was just joking,” you groan, covering Jeonghan’s mouth with your palm. “Anyways, now that he’s silenced, how was your weekend?” 

Before Seungkwan could answer your question, Jeonghan’s tongue shoots out to lick your palm. A shriek to erupts from your lips, pulling your hand away from his mouth. You turn to him with a horrified look on your face, only to see him smirking back at you. 

“Gross! Don’t do that again!” you smack the back of his head lightly. 

“Ow! I’ve done worse to you, why are you mad!” Jeonghan argued, rubbing the spot on his head where you hit him. 

“Jeonghan, enough! We’re in public,” you whisper at him, curious eyes around the dining hall peering at the two of you. 

Seungkwan only laughs, watching you scold him like he’s a dog who ate food off the dinner table. 

You sigh at him as you fake your anger, the amused glint in your eyes reflecting in the light as you watch Jeonghan pout. It’s funny to see him this way, playful and clingy. You didn’t expect that side of him to come out in public, but you’re glad that he feels comfortable enough to act childlike around you and your friends. 

Being able to witness this side of him brings you a lot of happiness, even though you two are constantly bickering, it’s all for laughs this time. When you two first met, the fighting was real and unforgiving, you thought you hated Jeonghan. But the universe had different plans in mind, and even though it was unexpected, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

end.

© wonustars

𖦹 a/n: that's all! thank you for reading and i hoped you liked it :3!! don't be afraid to send me an ask or comment, and reblog. i appceiate your support 💞

𖦹 fic taglist: @writingbarnes @yuyunhoo @blurr3db3rry @noiceoofed @aaniag @yogurttea @arcofagamotto @lovrchl @woozixo @unusuallyshy @if-i-like-i-reblog @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @whowantshota @zezedoesshit @dawgyeom @yoonzinoooo (also tagging my lovely star @lololololchips just cuz :p)

(for those who signed up for the taglist, and i couldn't tag, i've removed them sorry. perm tag list will be in the reblog!)

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen smut #svthub #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #seventeen x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen fanfic

[hungharrington]

Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔

this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.

For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.

“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“

He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.

He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”

You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.

“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”

You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.

“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”

Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.

One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.

“Oh my god—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”

Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”

You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.

“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.

“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”

You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.

“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.

“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”

You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.

“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.

Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.

“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”

You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.

#wait i kinda froth this one #it’s fun it’s goofy it’s hot #steve loves to telling u he likes you hehehe #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #fuck titles i hate thinking of them

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count ~ 4.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ minor blood and violence, sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You’ve only barely begun to recover from the wrung out feeling of ultimate bliss when you hear it: the warning klaxon, followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt. The aggressive roar of truck engines. Doors opening in rapid succession. Loud voices and boots pounding on pavement.

The doppelgänger jerks upright, sliding off the bed and wrenching the curtains to one side to peer down at the scene unfolding on the street below. “They’re here,” he says, and for the first time you detect something like fear wafting from the imposter.

A flood of relief washes over you. Someone had alerted the disposal unit. It wasn’t too late to save lives after all.

You search for your discarded clothing, hurriedly sliding the retrieved garments back into place. Francis’ copy looks at you.

“They’ll know you let me in.”

“Yes,” you agree distractedly, hastily shoving the hem of your blouse back beneath the waist of your skirt.

“They’ll know,” he says again, more firmly this time, moving in front of you, one hand closing around the wrist you’ve yet to refasten the shirt cuff upon. “They’ll know about me.”

You stare at him, realization kicking in. The others were safe. You, however, had no such guarantee. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I should. You’re a liability.” His grip on you abruptly relaxes. He’s merely holding you now. “Your organization will punish you for this.”

You shake your head, trying to hastily tuck your hair back into place. “Not once they hear my explanation.”

The intruder scowls. “What defense will you offer? You knowingly let a replicant into your precious building.”

“I…” Your confidence wavers as you begin to consider how your actions will appear. He’s right. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You’ve not only failed at your assigned task, you’ve betrayed your own kind. An unforgivable crime.

He seems to read the slight panic on your features, his voice gentling. “Suppose we make a deal,” he says.

You look at him warily. “What kind of deal?”

“I make it look like you were attacked while you tried to fend me off. Make up some doppelgänger appearance when they ask you. Don’t tell them about Francis’ death. You get to live. I get to go down the fire escape, avoiding extinction.”

A life for a life, in essence. The elevator was temporarily disabled the second the alarm was pushed, but it won’t take the team long to sweep each floor. You were running out of time.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.

He turns your arm over so the underside is exposed, thumb pressing firmly just below the hollow of your elbow. “This will hurt,” he cautions. The only warning you get before you see it: that thing inside of the milkman breaking through, emerging. A sickly gray-green digit topped with a sharp yellow claw. He drags it right through the fabric of your shirt, right through your skin. It burns. A blossoming line of red appears, your lifeforce weeping out of the laceration. You feel lightheaded and nauseous.

“Don’t look at it. And don’t let it get on the carpet. We need to leave, now.” He steps back into the milkman’s shoes, not even bothering with the laces. You follow him to the front door, exiting the apartment. Locked again. You hear voices echoing in the stairwell, the heavy tred of the suited disposal unit pounding on the steps.

“Remember what I said.” The imitation’s knuckles graze your cheek, the touch almost tender. The injured arm cradled against your chest is throbbing. “I’m going to knock you out. It will help further disguise what happened.” The voices are getting louder. They’ve finished on the second floor, making their way to the third. The doppel’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, his mouth brushing yours hurriedly before your head is slammed against the wall, sending you hurtling into a void of darkness.

***

There is a debriefing after the incident.

No casualties. The residents were safe, excluding Francis, of course. You have a lie ready to account for his sudden absence. You say you’d heard him mention something about an emergency visit to a sick relative in a neighboring city as he’d dashed out the front door earlier that day. A phone call to his employer wouldn’t match this story, of course. You weren’t sure what family the man even had. None that would corroborate your fabrication, certainly. You were just hoping that your claim about him needing to leave abruptly very early in the morning without contacting anyone was convincing enough. It’s all you can think of on the spur of the moment.

The director, a severe looking middle aged man, frowns over the lenses of his glasses at you. You keep your hands folded tightly in your lap. Your stitched wound is slowly healing, the ache now a sort of dull throbbing that you’re consciously aware of from time to time. No apparent signs of infection, the surrounding skin clear.

“Your track record, up until now, has been impeccable.” The older man’s voice brings you out of your reverie.

“Yes, sir.” It’s true. For six months you’d performed your role as doorman perfectly. Never failing to detect a single doppelgänger. Protecting the innocent.

“Still, this is not a transgression that can simply be overlooked. The consequences of your misjudgment could have been dire.”

You’d stated that you’d realized the person requesting entrance was really a copy only after the door had been opened, catching an error on the paperwork at the last minute. Intervening, attempting to stall the intruder. Injured and knocked unconscious. You knew nothing more after that.

“It’s suspicious that none of this alleged false documentation has been retrieved at the site. Strange also that you’d been carried all the way to the third floor. We also have no record even remotely matching the description of the doppel you’ve given. How do you account for these discrepancies?”

“The replicant stated they were a new resident moving in to the vacant apartment on the third floor. It seemed plausible that there hadn’t been a chance for them to be featured on the day’s list yet. It’s hardly the first time someone’s name hasn’t been placed as it should be. The subtly incorrect DDD logo was the tip off I unfortunately picked up on too late, sir.” You pause, clearing your throat. There is virtually no moisture left in your mouth and you find it suddenly parchment dry. It’s difficult to speak, your nerves betraying you. “The replicant must have taken the paperwork with them in order to conceal the evidence. And I was knocked out immediately after being cut. I don’t remember anything after that.”

His lips press into a thin line. Your force yourself to maintain eye contact. This was your explanation and you could not falter. “Even so. You failed to follow protocol. And you failed to contact the disposal team.”

“There wasn’t time to dial the phone number. Not even time to sound the alarm. I simply reacted on instinct. I was hoping to…”

“To what? What did you think you would accomplish? You, a mere unarmed woman?” He drapes the last word in contempt. You flush, squirming in your seat at the insult.

The suited man sighs heavily, closing your file folder. “You’re going to be suspended without pay for one week. Then I expect you to return to work. Your temporary replacement is…less than ideal. Let me be clear, though: if anything else happens, you’ll be terminated. No debriefing. No excuses. Understood? This is your final warning.”

You nod, saving your sigh of relief for when you’ve exited the office. The air departs your lungs in a loud rush. You’d done it. You’d actually managed to talk your way out of it.

Your thoughts immediately shift to Francis’ doppelgänger.

He was out there, somewhere. The safest move would be to travel, to just flee the area entirely, but you doubt he’ll leave. He’s still here.

You can feel him.

***

You drive to your house, to the home of your childhood. An inheritance from your great grandparents, passed down through each generation. Outside of the city. Quiet. It’s a relief to see green again. The air smells clearer, too. No waste from factory smokestacks or concentrated exhaust from automobiles. A light scent of grass and summer wildflowers. You roll your window down, inhaling deeply. It’s the best you’ve felt in a while. Since before the incident.

Francis. Your good mood departs just as quickly as it had arrived. How terrible a person you are. Lying to save your own skin. To protect the doppelgänger that had killed your beloved milkman. Putting innocent lives at risk. You had no right to feel anything even resembling happiness or contentment. You should turn the car right back around and return to the office. Confess your sins and receive whatever punishment would be decided for you. Imprisonment, certainly. Perhaps a life sentence to match the life that had been stolen from the third floor resident.

You trudge up the steps of the porch, sinking down onto the topmost stair, your head resting against the post of the railing. There are strips of paint peeling, you notice. You’ll need to sand them down before you apply more stain. Something to occupy you during your week off. Distract you from your own misery.

You close your eyes and listen to the hum of insects. There is another scent in the air now; something damp. The sky’s clouds were white and fluffy looking, but you know those can change in an instant. You think there is a storm approaching.

Perhaps you will wait it out. Just rest here and see what happens, studying your surroundings. There are birds singing in the vacant field that hasn’t known crops for many seasons. You only tended a much smaller one close to the house. Some vegetables. That was all. More often than not the local wildlife took a sample, but you didn’t mind sharing. You should have a look before you head back inside later on, see if there is anything to harvest.

It’s comfortable here. The sun is at the perfect angle. You still have plenty of shade. Warm enough to warrant rolling your shirt sleeves back. Catching sight of the scabbed, sutured line marring your forearm. You trace the mark. You think about the copycat tracing your cheek. That final kiss before he’d knocked you unconscious. It made so little sense to let you live. Had some remnant of Francis’ psyche influenced him somehow? Urging him to spare you?

Your eyes slide closed and you drift off to sleep still mulling this over.

***

In the dream you are standing in the nearby orchard.

You know it is a dream, because in reality these fruit trees are no longer tended. Yet here you are, standing beneath the crooked branches of one peach bearing specimen. The many smooth emerald leaves shield you from the sun.

Francis is beside you.

Or not-Francis. You cannot say which it is. The smile is as you remember. The perpetually tired eyes. He reaches for one of the velvet skinned fruits, plucking it easily and handing it to you.

The texture is exactly as it should be. Not too firm and not too soft. Ripe and ready to take a bite from. You do so, your teeth sinking into the soft yellow flesh. A burst of sweetness on your tongue. The excess juice drips down your chin. You offer the peach to the milkman but he doesn’t accept, instead moving to take a taste of it from your face, first doting on your lips before he laps at the dribbling trail. You clutch his shirt and his kisses become rougher. Pushing you gently to the ground. You drop the fruit and your hands become full of his shirt, his hair, the soft earth beneath you. His mouth plants kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Hand dragging down through the floral patterned button front dress you’re wearing.

“Francis.” You reach for his face. It’s wrong. Something in the structure of the nose. So subtle it could easily be mistaken. The teeth suddenly bared in a smile that’s unfriendly. A grin of triumph. It isn’t Francis. You’ve been duped by an imposter.

The skin ripples. His eyes become bloodshot. You struggle to move. Your wrists are pinned at your sides. Sharp teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. A wolf ready to destroy its prey.

The thunder awakens you.

You jolt upright, massaging your stiff neck as you glance around hurriedly. The sky is a mass of gray clouds now, the natural illumination of the heavens notably dimmed. The air is laced with the scent of petrichor. You rise and the first drops of rain fall, pattering on your bare arms, sinking into you hair. Another disgruntled warning rumble, louder this time. The interval between that and the next shortening. You’re about to turn and enter the house when you see a figure standing nearby, on the outskirts of the side yard.

It’s him. The imposter that took over Francis.

The normally pristine, starched uniform is dirt stained, collecting souvenirs from the unpaved road leading to your house. The bowtie around his neck is loosened, draped around the unbuttoned shirt collar, the first several buttons of that work shirt similarly unfastened, revealing the white undershirt beneath. He’d never bothered retrieving the hat, the uncovered thatch of thick chestnut hair now tousled. Your fingers curl around the railing for support as he begins walking towards you with determined strides, closing the distance rapidly. The thunderstorm’s namesake harbinger sounds again. A flash of lightning. The rain is no longer a faint scattering of drops, now falling in an earnest deluge.

You both manage to escape being drenched, finding shelter beneath the porch roof in the knick of time, the imposter halting just in front of you. His chest is rapidly rising and falling, as if that brief exercise he’d just participated in was taxing him. You know that’s not the reason for those panted gasps for air, your own body mimicking that movement.

“Francis,” you say, but the name is drowned out by the growing ire of the storm.

He moves then, pressing you against the weathered clapboards near the living room window that overlooks the front yard. He cups your face between his hands and his lips crush yours. You respond without hesitation, kissing him back. Not giving yourself time to think about what you’re doing; to recall the dream you’d just had where you’d been destroyed by one of his kind.

“How did you find me?” You gasp when you part for air.

This utterance is barely audible, threaded between the next two bouts of thunder, muffled by the sound of the downpour. He slides his fingers against the harsh furrow on your arm. “I could sense where you were. Tracked you…” The words drowned out once again. His mouth moves close to your ear. “What did you say to them? What happened?”

“They bought it, for the most part, I think. The director is suspicious, though. I got suspended for a week.”

Another flash of lightning. It was foolish to remain outside any longer. You invite him in, struggling to fit the key in the lock, your trembling fingers not cooperating. His hand closes over yours, steadying you. The door surrenders, swinging inward.

It’s dark in the living room. You switch on the nearest lamp and toss your keys on the table.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t know if you still do that, or…” It was unknown what the doppelgängers consumed for nutrition. Perhaps it would be different now that they could occupy a human body and not merely disguise themselves as one.

“I do. But that can wait.”

“Did you know that would happen? You being able to trace my whereabouts when you cut me?”

“No. It’s uncharted territory. Like so much of…this,” he murmurs.

“You need to call Francis’ workplace. Explain to them that there was a family emergency. That’s the excuse I gave for the sudden absence. The DDD has been looking for you. Well, for him,” you correct yourself.

“They’ll expect me to return at some point.”

“Yes.”

“So you’ll let me in. To dwell there. And what of my brethren?”

“I can’t let them in. You know that.” You swallow nervously. “You can’t harm anyone. If I let you inside, you have to promise me you won’t. You got what you wanted. You got to be one of us. There’s no reason to hurt anyone else.”

A large clap of thunder makes you jump. The doppelgänger moves closer to you, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. “You think I’ll cooperate?”

“We had a deal. I let you escape. I lied to protect you.”

“And I let you live. Both ends of the bargain fulfilled. There is no obligation beyond that.”

“You don’t want to hurt me.”

“Are you quite sure of that?” One arm circles your waist, drawing you against him. His fingers sift through your hair, tugging your head back slightly. “These hungers for the flesh are so distracting. How your kind manages them…” His voice trails off and his lips touch yours.

The light flickers and dies. You’ve lost electricity, now standing in the darkened room cradled by the deceiver.

“<i>The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep</i>…”

You inhale sharply, thinking of the Bible on Francis’ nightstand. Reading scripture like any good devout soul, learning verses by heart. That memory resurfacing now.

“Francis.” You know it’s no longer him, not in his purest, human essence, but this evolution still holds traces like this that you can’t help but hold dear.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” His hands slide down over the curve of your buttocks as he kisses the corner of your jaw. You guide him towards the nearby couch, watching him sink into the cushions before you climb into his lap, your shoes sliding off and falling to the hardwood floor. You run your fingers through his hair, your mouth ravaging his. It’s the parts of Francis that you love that you’re adoring, you tell yourself. Not the pretender, but the fragments of the man inside he still carries with him. That is what your fingers caress and your mouth cherishes. You unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, then reach for the belt buckle, jerking the leather strap free from the metal, all while your lips and tongue work in a frenzy over his.

The rain and the thunder becomes white noise, a nearly muted sound in the background as you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper, the metal teeth parting to reveal white briefs. You touch his erection through that thin material, feeling the hard, thick line of it and he hisses, then groans somewhere near your neck.

“Yes, love, that’s what I need…”

You shove your hand beneath the elastic waistband and you make contact with feverish flesh. Another groan from the imposter. You sweep over the head of his cock, realizing he’s circumcised, smoothing leaking precum over the dome before you wrap your fingers around the shaft and begin stroking up and down. He moans into your mouth. It’s not the best angle, your hand a bit squashed awkwardly between your bodies. You slide off his thighs to sit beside him, never breaking contact, still pumping his prick, rolling your fingers over the crest as you reach the top, thumb dragging over the frenulum with each pass. Your tongue dances over his and you feel the arousal leaking from your own sex, soaking your panties.

Another glob of clear fluid oozes from the tip and your mouth waters. You want to taste it. Want to feel him in your mouth.

Your lips abandon his and he frowns, confused until he sees your head bowing over his lap, your body shifting as you engulf his turgid member. Another hissing sound of pleasure as the slightly musky flavor hits your taste buds. You haven’t fully taken him inside yet, only reaching close to halfway, applying suction as you move across that shallow expanse, allowing yourself to become accustomed to the length and girth of him. His fingers touch your head, not applying force, just resting there. You release his cock with a wet popping sound, stroking your saliva over his erection before taking him into your mouth again. You push deeper this time, forcing your lips closer to the base of his cock, to the nest of dark pubic hair. Your throat protests and you gag, the fingers on your head now tightening, pressing, urging you on.

“Sweet girl, that’s it, you can take it. All the way. Fuck.” The curse is something you’d never imagine coming from the milkman’s lips, but you find yourself aroused by it, the depravity of what you’re doing erotic. Your head bobs, dipping lower each time, eliciting an obscene wet squelching sound as his prick collides with your throat. There’s a higher pitch to his sounds of pleasure now. His hips lift to meet you, shoving him in as deep as he can reach while your nostrils flare, searching for a greater air supply.

Your nails dig into this thigh. The loosened belt buckle jingles with each thrust into that moist cavity you’ve provided. The fingers in your hair loosen, allowing you a brief respite. You withdraw and cough. A thick trail of saliva connects your lower lip to his glistening cock. Your fingers massage through the slick and he hums appreciatively. Your lips feel slightly numb, tingling from the stretch. There’s a burning sensation in your abused throat, a soreness when you swallow. But the discomfort is bearable. You want to do this. You want him to feel good.

You suck in a lungful of air and then begin again. You hear the replicant’s breathing becoming shallower, more rapid. He’s getting close. You redouble your efforts, moving fast and deep.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me…it’s so fucking good…”

His hips snap up and an acrid spill of semen floods your throat. It catches you by surprise and you choke around the pulsing erection. It’s a copious amount of seed that spills over your retreating tongue. You swallow down the last of the bitter fluid, straightening, dragging the back of your hand across your spit drenched chin.

“That was…you…” The creature is speechless. You can’t help but feel a little pride over that. He captures your lips, mulling over the taste he’s left there. “I want to taste you,” he says, and your pussy throbs. “I want you to cum inside my mouth.”

He moves off the couch, kneeling in front of you. Shoving at your skirt. You hurriedly hook your thumbs over the edge of your panties and drag them down, feeling how wet the crotch is as they drag across your legs. Scooting closer to the edge, spreading yourself open for him.

His face moves forward and his tongue parts your folds. Laving down to gather a sample of your arousal. Humming with approval at the taste of you as he focuses on your clit. A long, slow drag over the sensitive nub. You whimper. His thumbs wedge along either side of your sex, stretching the pink flesh further open. His mouth covers your cunt and he sucks and your thighs try to close, the sensation overwhelming.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re delicious.” Slurping on your clit now. You thread your fingers through his hair, caressing his head as his tongue flicks across the hooded button. He doesn’t need guidance this time. Everything is the way you like it. Dividing attention between your clitoris and the entrance of your pussy. Pushing that muscle inside, fucking you with his tongue, alternating with lapping at your bundle of nerve endings. You wish it wasn’t quite so dark. You want to see his eyes. You know he’s looking at you even if he can’t discern much in the dim gray light filtering in through the windows. Watching your reaction even as he feels it in his mouth. Hears the pleading, the needy gasps and moans, the whining that begins the closer you get to coming apart in his mouth.

He moans, too, and the vibrations of that sound add another layer to your pleasure. A finger makes its way inside you. Violated by a second soon after, thrusting while he sucks your clit. You climax, panting his name over and over, your fingers frantic in his hair, your pelvis quaking as your grind yourself against him.

Eventually your movements lessen. He eases back and your quivering legs draw closed. He rejoins you on the couch, his mouth on yours, gifting you a taste of yourself.

Then you sit quietly, listening to the diminishing storm outside. The rain drums on the roof and taps along the gutters with a soft metallic sound. Your face is tucked into the doppel’s shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his arm curled around your shoulders.

You shouldn’t enjoy this. Any of this. You should be afraid, disgusted. Instead you feel oddly calm. Safe in his arms, even though you certainly aren’t. These alien beings were masters of deception and manipulation. You know better. It was foolish, what you were doing. Dangerous—for you, for everyone else.

But you’re convinced more than ever that some part of Francis is still buried within. The goodness of him negating the evil of this imposter.

“I’ll make the call in the morning.” The first words spoken in a long time. Your head lifts. “And I’ll move in to the apartments.”

“Just you. And you won’t harm anyone.”

“You ask for too much.”

“I’m giving up everything for you. Risking my job, my life, the lives of the people I’ve sworn to protect. My heart. My soul,” you finish with a whisper. “I don’t think you understand how many things I’m sacrificing.”

“I’m not human. It’s impossible for me to. There are no words for them in our language because they simply don’t exist.”

“But you want to be us. You should understand…”

“I will make the call and I will move in. Beyond that I am not promising you anything. Except…I do not want you harmed.” He reaches for your arm, tracing over the healing wound he’d inflicted. “I will try to prevent that, at least.”

A small concession, perhaps, but an important one nonetheless. If he was willing to spare you, maybe you could convince him to spare others.

Teach him the value of a human life while taming the monster within that wears the face of the man you love.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

#Hazbin hotel #Hazbin #Hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin x gn reader #hazbin x female reader #hazbin x male reader #Adam x reader #adam x gn reader #adam x female reader #adam x male reader #Hazbin hotel Adam #Hazbin Adam #Hazbin hotel Adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x gn reader #Hazbin hotel Adam x female reader #Hazbin hotel Adam x male reader #Hazbin Adam x gn reader #Hazbin Adam x female reader #hazbin adam x male reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort #hurt/comfort #x reader #x male reader

[chastiefoul]

stood up.

characters: ayato & alhaitham

summary:

Your boyfriend promised a long overdue date on the winter season—albeit how busy he was.

But as you waited and waited for him on the agreed spot, why does it look like he’s not coming?

tags: a lil angsty, comfort would be on part 2

Alhaitham

You were giddy as you woke up, immediately getting ready for the long awaited date you both have today. Amidst the research he’s been busy working with at the time, he finally managed to take a brief break and told you he missed you wanted to spend time with you which you couldn’t possibly refuse since you missed him just as much.

It was heavily snowing outside—you took a mental note as you pick a warm outfit for today. You were very excited about the date that you had arrived fifteen minutes early, silently hoping maybe your boyfriend would come a little early too since it’s been a while that you both spend a quality time.

☘

“I need coffee,” Alhaitham groaned as he went out from his room, completely exhausted and sleep-deprived. Kaveh who coincidentally was in the dining room just stared at him as if saying ‘then pour it yourself tf?’. Alhaitham made a cup for himself and took a sip. “It’s noon, and you’re just waking up?” the blond said disapprovingly while the grey-haired man only sighed. “It can’t be helped that I needed to sleep late every day for the past week. Also mind your own business, don’t you have that presentation you’ve deemed all week as important today?” He asked, annoyed. “Huh? That was yesterday.” Kaveh said, confused. Alhaitham widened his eyes. “What?” Panic rises inside Alhaitham’s chest as he asked.

“What date is it today?” His stomach dropped, refusing to believe that he had mixed up such an important date only because he was dwelled to deep on his research, even though he promised to meet you. He looked at the clock, 12 p.m, you both agreed to meet at 9 a.m.

 “Seventeenth.” Kaveh confirmed, quickly snapping Alhaitham’s useless idle thought.

The scribe cursed out loud then went to grab the first coat he saw and swiftly go out.

Please still be there, please still be there.

He ran full speed at the agreed spot. He so wanted you to still be there but perhaps it would be too cruel at your side since you’d be standing still at the same spot waiting in the cold for three whole hours.

Then he saw you there, standing as you had your hands deep on your pocket, your nose red from the cold.

“(y/n)!” Alhaitham called out, but you didn’t budge at the noise. He approached you, overwhelmed with guilt. “I’m sor-“

“I told you before that we didn’t have to meet if you’re busy, I told you I could wait.” You said, uncharacteristically slow that it was unnerving. “But I didn’t mean it like this,” you whispered, finally losing it. Alhaitham’s heart broke at the tone, but he knew he didn’t have the right. “Waiting here for three whole hours that people from shop nearby talked to me and said I should warm myself up for a moment and I stupidly refuse, scared that you’d come while I was gone and you’d think I forgot about today..” you paused.

“I looked like a fool—no, I was an utter fool.”

“Please. I can explain-“

“Gosh what an interesting way to apologize,” your eyes hot with tears that were threatening to spill. “Seeing you now, clearly just waking up with no effort whatsoever to get yourself ready.. just how pathetic do you want me to feel, Alhaitham?” you sniffled, feeling uncomfortable and heartbroken. The fact that you were looking forward to today for days and he did not even bother to remember. That fact cuts deep.

The man’s heart ached more by the sudden call of his full name, not the usual endearing nickname of ‘haitham’.

You walked away, wiping your tears. Alhaitham who witness your back getting smaller as you take a step after another could only stand still, quietly searching for the words he could find to first and foremost apologize, then to find a way to make it all up to you.

Ayato

It was definitely not easy, being by Ayato’s side, but you made it work—you always do. And Ayato couldn’t hope for more of an understanding partner—and he didn’t let you forget that, but this made you reluctant to voice your worries, scared that he would picture you as this selfish person. But if you were given a wish, perhaps you’d want to be able to spend a little more time with your boyfriend. Just a little.

☘

When there’s patience, there’s too, a limit.

You’re currently waiting for Ayato at the meeting spot you both agreed on the day before. You wouldn’t mind a ten or fifteen minutes tardiness, anyone could’ve make such mistake, but feeling how stiff your fingers were and seeing the sun position, it’s safe to say you’ve been waiting for more than four hours. There are strangers who passed by earlier, and when the same people witnessed you still glued in the same spot they saw you, you couldn’t help but look down.

A quiet but incisive sense of shame overwhelmed you, that you had such faith in this man that you were willing to wait even hours on such weather, not even knowing that if Ayato had felt the same anticipation—clearly not, since him or even his retainer that usually gave you news about his well-being was nowhere in sight. You couldn’t help but laugh self-deprecatingly at your foolishness as you finally decided to give up and go home, not even thinking about the reason why he had forgotten about the date. The bottom line was that he stood you up, whether it was unintentional at the end of the day, you were hurt. And it was finally time to tell him that he would not get away with it.

☘

The next day, your body had to pay up the price of waiting on such a snowy weather that you caught a fever. It wasn’t worth it in the slightest but at least this way you don’t have to face him for a while, since you don’t really have anything nice to say if forced to see his face.

That thought was short-lived however, seeing that Ayato had decided to come, on a day where you both didn’t agree to meet up on. You were laying down, even with the thick layers of clothing you still felt somewhat cold.

“You didn’t come this morning as you usually do, so I got worried,” he explained the sudden visit. Your head hurt, but truly it was incomparable to the ache you’re experiencing on your chest. Ayato seemed to had completely forgotten the fact that he was supposed to meet you yesterday. “What were you doing that you’ve become this ill, love?” There was nothing but pure concern in his voice but this made you more spiteful, more infuriated.

“I was waiting for someone for hours out in the cold yesterday.” You said, still burying yourself in the blanket, not bothering to make eye contact with the man. At this he was thinking back that perhaps you had tell him about this engagement, but his expression quickly drop, as he remembered. You wanted to laugh at it since you’ve never seen such face on him, but that was a luxury you had to postpone until a later date where you had felt a little better.

“Sweethe-“ He quickly said but you cut him off. “Don’t call me that. And don’t even think about touching me.” You said sternly, as he swiftly retracted the hand that was about to touch your head.

“(y/n), I apologize but I-“

And you’ve had about enough of his exuses—no matter how important, you don’t even care anymore, you just wanted Ayato out of your sight.

“It’s always something with you, isn’t it? I’m tired, Ayato.” You said meekly, truly exhausted by the way he always had something to say, a ­­way to get out of being berated, reasons that you had to understand even though it was the same as saying that he had put you second—or maybe below that yet again. “I don’t want to understand it anymore, I give up.” You finally said, and only at this point Ayato had realized just how much he had hurt you over the course of you dating him.

“I’m done being your loyal dog that you can treat however you please, Ayato. Leave.”

“(y/n)-“

“I said, leave.” You repeated.

Ayato could only stand up and got out as guilt was eating him away slowly. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that he had taken advantage of your kindness and took you for granted. The regrets tasted bitter on his tongue. As he went out from your haven there was only one thing running through his mind. How could he possibly fix this?

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #ayato x y/n #ayato x reader #ayato x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader

[jeonsweetpea]

Devoted to Trouble

Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst

rating: explicit

description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?

word count: 11.5k

warnings: Seven JK… need I say more? JK being a SIMP, JK being a flirt, the entirety of the Seven MV being Peter Parker/Spider-Man coded, JK being a dork, JK is persistent and annoying but in an endearing way, fake death, cursing, the most respectable fuck boy!JK, he just loves you so much

smut warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), standing 69, dirty talk, protected sex, face-riding, breast play, strength kink, standing sex, missionary, serpent’s embrace, that line from his working out live, multiple orgasms, sir kink, 

a/n: Hello! IT IS DONE. My two loves combined in one, Spider-Man + Jungkook! I just love the idea of JK being such an unserious Spider-Man/Peter Parker who only loves you and wants you and voila! He is your lovesick loser. :))) I sure hope you love him as much as I do. Feel free to let me know what you think! Thank you for reading. 

Monday

You didn’t know why you bothered dressing up for dinner when the end goal was to turn Jungkook down. After his identity was revealed to the public (source unknown), panic set in, and you realized that a future together was not possible. However, out of courtesy, you decided not to flake on the date after promising him. The boy was ecstatic, and deep down, you suspected his ego loved the fact he won over someone like you, who had consistently turned him down.

As you approached the restaurant door, someone unexpectedly rushed past you to open it himself. Startled by the sudden action, you jumped in surprise. 

“Jungkook? Oh my god, you scared me!” you exclaimed. He offered an apologetic smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You noticed his heavy breathing, wondering if he had exerted himself. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah, I was stopping a heist nearby and didn’t want you to wait long,” he replied.

Your heart softened at his thoughtfulness, but it also served as a reminder of why a future together would be challenging. “You didn’t have to waste your stamina. I just got here.”

“Trust me, babe. I have plenty of stamina.” 

His mischievous grin earned an eye roll from you as you entered the restaurant. Following closely behind, he effortlessly secured a table for the two of you, thanks to his well-established reputation. The table was smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, where guests took advantage and began gawking and whispering about you two. You did your best to ignore them while Jungkook hurriedly pulled out your chair and took his place across from you. 

“Thank you.”

It was impossible to ignore his striking appearance. He exuded an irresistible charm in his black leather jacket and white graphic tee, his long hair partially parted, his lip piercing accentuating his stupidly handsome face. He was pure temptation, staring you straight in the face, but you had to remain strong.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he commented, his gaze momentarily glancing at your cleavage before meeting your eyes once more. You scoffed, though deep down you knew the dress you hugged your figure perfectly. 

“Really? My boobs?” you retorted.

“What? Am I not supposed to admire them when they’re so perfect and right in front of me?” he playfully responded. 

“At least try to be subtle.”

“I don’t want to be. There’s no reason to hide my appreciation when I’m in the presence of someone so beautiful. I want you to know that every single day.”

A rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. You’re… pretty beautiful yourself.”

“Aw, thanks,” he quipped, executing a dramatic hair flip. “I know.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, eliciting a smile from him. He took joy in making you laugh. However, you quickly cleared your throat, keeping your objective in mind. 

“So Jungkook um… I have something to tell you,” you began. 

“Okay, cool. I do too.”

“I want to go first. I—”

Unfortunately, the waiter interrupted at that moment, inquiring about your drink preferences. Jungkook swiftly ordered two glasses of red wine and then refocused his attention on you.

“You were saying?”

“I um… I need a drink. Let me have a drink first before I say anything,” you nervously said, mentally kicking yourself for being such a chicken. 

“Okay, then can I go first?”

“Sure.”

“Will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?”

The question caught you off guard, causing you to almost choke on nothing. You hadn’t anticipated him asking that until after the date. Damn. He was derailing your plan. 

As the waiter came back with the two glasses of wine and placed them on the table, he asked you what you wanted to eat. Jungkook asked for a moment to look over the menu before the waiter left. 

“So? What do you say?” he asked, flashing you that cheeky grin of his. You had to stand up for yourself and express your true feelings to him. This was a waste of time and he had to understand that, despite what your heart desired. 

“Jungkook, I came here for one reason and one reason only.”

He lowered his head and shook it, sensing that whatever you were about to say wouldn't be something he wanted to hear. “Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good. The date just started, love. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward?”

"No, well, yes, but that's not the point. I just—this is a waste of time. It won’t work out between us,” you stammered. 

He raised his head, still shaking his head in denial. “How do you know if we don’t try?”

“I’m not interested in being in a relationship.”

“Really? Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so. We’re done.”

He narrowed his eyes and chuckled, amused by your determination. “Break me off another time, darling. Let’s see how the evening goes first, hmm?”

You had to fight that tingle in your body every time he called you a nickname. “Let me make it crystal clear. I am not interested in being with a superhero.”

“Ah, there it is. Babe, don’t worry. I won’t let my Spider-Man duties affect us.”

You rested your elbows on the table and gestured with your hands as you expressed your frustrations.

“But they will. Sorry, but superheroes aren’t boyfriend material. They always end up suffering. I don’t want to spend everyday worrying about you getting hurt or possibly dying. Shoot, I don’t want to die. You’re not even the slightest bit worried about your enemies coming here right now? I’m afraid for my life!”

You observed his face for any sign of a reaction, noticing his eyes wandering the room as his lips moved slightly. Straining your ears, you could hear him humming the tune of the song playing in the restaurant.

“Are you seriously singing right now?!” you asked, enraged at him not taking you seriously. In that instant, some of the lights flickered and the ground trembled, causing the wine glasses on the shelves in the back to wobble. Another powerful shake startled the elderly couple at the table next to yours, prompting them to stand up in shock.

Jungkook stopped humming and offered you a warm smile. “Sorry, it was a catchy song. I was listening.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. Babe, nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You can’t be sure of that. You’re not psychic.”

“No, but I’m Spider-Man. I’ll protect you. Look, I get it. It’s scary and I know you’ve been let down before in the past from other guys. But I’ll love you right.” The way he spoke with a pout was killing you.

“No. It won’t work out.”

“... Then let me fuck you right,” You gave him a judgemental glare and he added on, “All day everyday. Seven days a week.”

He even put up seven fingers to emphasize his point. 

“Okay, that’s a big proposition that not even you could fulfill.”

“Well let me fulfill that sweet pussy of yours tonight and you’ll see.”

“Good god, Jeon! How are you so nonchalant about your identity being revealed?!”

You found yourself leaning back in your chair, utterly stunned, as a chandelier plummeted from the ceiling. The resounding crash failed to startle either of you because of how engrossed you were in the conversation. Jungkook shrugged at your question. 

“Because, at the end of the day, I’m still me. I’m human. I pay rent, I buy groceries—living my life like any other person. I’m not letting this identity thing stop me from doing what I love. Which hopefully includes you in this case,” he replied with a flirtatious wink. 

Frustration mixed with a tinge of concern welled up within you as you rose from your seat. He had just dropped the “L” word and so casually too. You didn’t know how to handle it. In that moment, a much larger explosion erupted directly behind you, causing you to cower in fear. Although the debris lightly brushed against your back, you stumbled. However, Jungkook swiftly caught you in his lap, flashing a bright smile as if this was a normal occurrence. Which for him, sure, but not for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You bit your lip, struggling to articulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence and decided to leave. Jungkook followed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulder. In frustration, you spun around, attempting to shake him off.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Are you okay?” he repeated, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. 

“... Yes. But we won’t work out. I’m sorry.”

This time, you exited the restaurant, and Jungkook let you. Then, he used his web shooters to leap through the hole created by the explosion, determined to put an end to whoever was causing the chaos. 

Tuesday

The next morning you swiftly prepared for work and hurried to the train station. As luck would have it, the doors opened for you just in time as a herd of people got off. You seized the opportunity to hop on and secured the first available seat you saw.

Putting on an earbud and playing some calming music, you closed your eyes and gathered your thoughts, which were primarily of one person—Jungkook. Of course you wanted to be with him. He was everything a girl would want. 

You had initially met him at a friend’s birthday party, where his flirtatious nature was hard to miss. Yes, he had a reputation and had been around a lot, but that didn’t bother you much. Sometimes you wished you had the guts to separate love and sex like that, but you couldn’t. For you, intimacy was intertwined with emotional connection and a shared future.

And Jungkook wasn't like that, it seemed. Of course he was fun to talk to, you had even exchanged numbers that night. Because of his constant advances, you sensed that he might only be interested in a physical relationship. That thought made you apprehensive, so you turned him down twice (yes, it took every ounce of strength in your body to do so) to prevent getting too close. 

“I don’t do one-night stands, Jeon.”

“Can you do seven-night stands?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“But I really like you.”

Nevertheless, Jungkook remained a great friend who was there for you when you needed him, despite his constant advances. The two of you supported each other and lent an ear during challenging times. Him being Spider-Man made so much sense because you remembered the many times he’d show up late, but he always had a gift for you to make up for it, whether it was a small snack, the keychain you’ve been eyeing online, a pin of the place you dreamed of traveling to—he was always thoughtful in that way. 

You recalled the times he’d show up with random scars and bruises, claiming he got them from work (which wasn’t a total lie), but now you knew which work he was really referring to. It worried you, but he’d brush off your worries by telling you he was okay. Still, you’d trace the scars in concern with your finger, the two of you soon locking eyes, knowing there was something more. 

Unfortunately, your rough dating history prevented you from letting others in as easily as you used to. You always expected disappointment because that way you could never truly be disappointed. Yet somewhere along the way, he managed to break down your defenses, and your walls crumbled.

If Jungkook could be described in one word, it’d be genuine. He was sincere in everything he said, everything he did, giving his all. He knew you better than you knew yourself, almost like you had met him in another life.

The third time he asked you out for dinner, you finally caved. It might’ve had something to do with his heartfelt message that morning, describing a dream of you two dating and his immense happiness (the dude sent you a whole essay for goodness sakes). You were a sucker for such heartfelt gestures and realized you were ready to love again. 

But then everything changed when his identity as Spider-Man was revealed. Dating a hero was something you couldn't allow yourself to do, and rejecting him was the right decision for both of you. Even if you missed him.

Suddenly, the commotion from nearby startled you, causing your eyes to flutter open to an unexpected sight. Outside the train window, Jungkook dangled against the glass with the biggest cheeky grin. He waved at you as if it were a completely normal situation.

“Hi [Y/N]!!!” he shouted. You put your hands on your head in distress. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, your loud voice prompting some people to retreat to another corner, allowing you a clearer view of the audacious arachnid. 

“I wanted to see you!!!” His words were muffled, barely audible with the glass being a barrier.

“What?” you said, cupping your ear, struggling to hear him clearly. 

Jungkook repeated his words, this time speaking slower and accentuating his lip movements. As he did so, he used his free hand to illustrate his words. 

"I," he pointed at himself, "Wanted," he gestured by rubbing his heart, "To," he pointed with his index and middle finger at his eyes and then at you, "See you!"

Feeling embarrassed and exasperated, you rolled your eyes and directed your gaze towards the ceiling. Deciding to move to another cart on the train, you began walking away. However, Jungkook hoisted himself up to the top and walked in tandem with you. Eventually, you settled into another seat, assuming he had given up, only to find his cheerful face peering at you upside-down from behind.

“Ahhh!!!” you screamed, almost shitting your pants from the surge of fright. 

“I MISS YOU!” he exclaimed. 

“For god sakes, leave me alone, you idiot!”

“I can be your idiot!”

Finally reaching your destination, you bolted out of there, with Jungkook persistently following in your footsteps. Once you got to the donut shop you worked at, you were completely out of breath. 

“Hey [Y/N]. Are you running a marathon or something?” Your manager, Jin, tossed you an apron and you somehow caught it. 

“No. Crazy. Man. Stalking me,” you said in between breaths. Jin grabbed the nearest object, which was a feather duster, wielding it with exaggerated finesse. You hurriedly positioned yourself behind him and put on the apron, keeping a close eye on the entrance. As expected, Jungkook swung into view, striking a perfect pose at the front.

“Wait, is that who I think it is?” Jin said. Jungkook entered your workplace with a bright and mischievous grin. “Oh my god! It’s Spider-Man!”

“Hey~. You weren't going to hit me with that were you? Or were you going to give me a thorough dusting?” Jungkook quipped. Jin immediately hid the feather duster behind his back, letting out a nervous laugh.

“No, I would never hit the famous Spider-Man, Seoul’s greatest hero. Can you sign some T-Shirts for me later? Maybe even sign my face and make it more handsome?”

“Sure.”

You dropped your jaw in disbelief and Jin gave you a stern look. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go serve him!”

“What? He’s the crazy person who keeps following me!”

“He’s going to skyrocket our sales in a day, go go go!”

You let out a groan and approached Jungkook with a defeated posture. "Please follow me this way," you said with a tone of dejection.

“Don’t slouch!” Jin scolded. You straightened up as Jungkook trailed behind you towards a table. Your acute hearing caught the stares and whispers of the few customers who were already there.

“So… Ms. [Y/N], is it?” Jungkook said, even going so far as to squint to look at your nametag. “Pretty name.”

“You know my name.”

“I know you’re into me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, that’s the plan. If I could, it'd be every hour, every minute, every second.” 

“Geez, this is harassment,” you said, trying to maintain a steady tone. “What do you want to drink, sir?”

“Sir? I like how that sounds.” Disgust twisted your face as you regretted letting that word slip, a habit from your long tenure at the place.

“Jungkook, either order or get out.”

“Are you on the menu?”

“You’re such a troublemaker. I’m getting you a different server.” He burst into laughter, raising his hands as if caught in the act. 

“Okay, okay. I’m kidding. I’ll have an Americano.”

“Great. Be right back.”

“Yay!”

“Shut up.”

“Aw.”

You quickly got his drink ready (having half a mind to spit in it but realized he’d probably enjoy that so you refrained) and returned to hand it over. 

“Is this the to-go cup?”

“Ah, very observant. It’s because I want you ‘to-go.’ Out the door. Right there,” you said, pointing to the exit. 

“Well, just for that, I think I’ll stick around longer if you know what I mean,” he teased, emphasizing the word “stick” with a wink.

“Jungkook please. I’m working here.”

“Can we just talk?”

“I don’t have anything left to say.”

“Not even to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? I know you must have some questions. Like why is he so lovable, kind, handsome—”

“Tries to get in everybody’s pants?” you finished for him. 

“That’s not true. I haven’t gotten into yours.”

“I knew that’s the only reason you kept asking me out.”

He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. You should know I think more highly of you than that, babe. I care about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not interested, Jungkook. Find someone else.”

“Why? I thought we were hitting it off so well.”

“If by hitting it off you mean you stopped hooking up with anything that had a pulse until I came into the picture, then yeah, we hit it off.”

“Hey, I was proving to you that I was serious. About you, about us. I’m devoted.”

“Gee, thanks for keeping it in your pants for that long. You deserve a trophy.” 

“Nah, but if you’re offering to be one, I can’t say no.”

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that. I’m not some prize to be won.”

“I know. I’m just saying I’d worship you.”

You tried not to get flustered at his words. Just then, a swarm of reporters, paparazzi, and fans barged in, and Jungkook stepped in front of you, shielding you from the camera flashes.

“You’re Spider-Man, right?” one of the reporters in the front asked. 

“Yeah. So what?” Jungkook replied, showcasing a camera-ready smile that made everyone swoon.

“Is that your girlfriend?” a photographer asked. Jungkook extended his hand behind him, pulling you close and positioning you securely on his back, almost like a shield.

"Well, we're still a work in progress."

"So, that's a no then?"

“I’m not giving up. She has me wrapped around her finger.”

“Are you gonna have his spider babies?” a fan shouted from the back. You covered your face, mortified, while Jungkook chuckled. Luckily, Jin diverted the attention of the crowd by demanding they give him free publicity for the donut shop or else they’d have to take their services elsewhere. You begged Jungkook to leave and he obliged, but not before giving you a playful wink.

“I’ll see you again.”

“Please don’t.”

“Seven days a week. That’s a promise.”

Wednesday

“H—” 

“Don’t talk to me.”

Seriously, the laundromat? He couldn’t even let you do your most hated chore in peace? You yanked each piece of clothing out of the machine, aggressively stuffing them into the basket you had while he sat nonchalantly behind you on another machine. 

“Come on, babe. I’m offering all of me to you.”

“Not interested.”

You walked away from him, placing your basket on another machine's surface, preparing to fold your clothes on the table. Naturally, he trailed after you like a devoted puppy.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Spider-Man. It’s not a good idea for us to be involved with each other.”

“You’re still on that?”

You folded your shirt, shooting him a glare, despising how effortlessly he rocked his torn jeans, pale blue hoodie, and crisp white tanktop. He had such a gentle beauty that drove you crazy, especially with that soft puppy dog gaze of his. Why did the universe have to serve you the most attractive man on earth on a silver platter, knowing you couldn’t have him?

“Still on that..? Still on that?! I seriously can’t stand you!” you shouted, throwing your shirt aside in frustration. As you stormed away, you suddenly felt a splash on your ankle. Looking down, you realized the place was flooding. People all around were panicking, attempting to open the locked door. However, Jungkook remained unfazed.

"You don't mean that."

"Jungkook, the place is flooding!" you cried, the water level rising faster than before. It was now up to your waist, and a wave of panic began to wash over you.

"I'm going to die. I knew it. I knew this would happen if I got close to you! It's all your fault!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“At least we’ll be together.” 

You shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back, making a sizable splash in the water. But despite your actions, he continued his relentless rambling. “See, this is a representation of how I feel. Without you I’m drowning. Give me a chance.”

He held your hand underwater and you pulled away, unable to register how unserious he was taking this. You let out a frustrated sigh, the water rising up to your neck, causing you to float up to the ceiling, where the lights were flickering wildly. Desperately, you pushed against them, as if hoping they would magically grant you more space.

“You know what, maybe death isn’t so bad after all.” you muttered.

“Let me love you right.”

“Does this look right?!”

You groaned and took a deep breath, going underwater to get away from him and his flirtatious words. Of course, he copied your actions but used his super strength to punch the glass windows and release the water. As it drained away, you laid there on your back, gasping for air. That was until Jungkook’s stupid face appeared before you. 

“Need CPR? Have no fear–” 

You swiftly pushed his face out of the way and sat up. “Nope, I’m good. Kiss me and you’re dead.”

Outside, a colossal twister of water surged into existence, taking the form of a massive entity that roared with immense power. Its presence was damning, with the sheer force of its swirling torrent causing nearby buildings to suffer damage.

“Well… that’s new,” Jungkook said, marveling at the sight before him. He clenched his fist, a sense of duty and readiness forming within him. Yet, your knowing look brought a hint of reluctance to his expression. He spoke in pouts. “Do I have to go? I don't want to leave you here alone.

You crossed your arms but offered an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll be okay.”

His pout transformed into a determined gaze as he nodded, accepting your words as a catalyst for action. Before he ventured into the chaos outside, he turned back to face you.

“I’ll come back for you. Get somewhere safe.”

Your concern for his well-being prompted you to call out to him before he left.

“Hey!” He turned around, his eyes shining with anticipation of your words. “If you… if you die, I’ll kill you.”

Your playful threat elicited a chuckle from Jungkook. With an assuring smile, he took hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I won’t.”

Thursday

“Is that Spider-Man?”

“Quick, someone call 911!”

Jungkook shouldn’t have been texting and swinging, but you weren’t replying and he was worried. By the time he lowered his phone, it was too late and he crashed into the back of a double-decker tourist bus. People found him lying motionless on the street, facedown. The ambulance arrived at the scene and placed him on a stretcher, gradually stirring him from his drowsy state.

In the midst of the commotion, Jungkook’s sharp eyes spotted you on the sidewalk, clearly concerned about his well-being. When your gazes met, you realized he was fine and started walking faster to get out of his line of sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m alright!” Jungkook protested, scrambling to get out of the stretcher’s restraints. The paramedics urged him to stay put, but he didn’t listen. He ripped the restraints off and pursued you, catching sight of a flower vendor along the way. He handed them an absurdly large wad of cash, disregarding how much he overpaid for a bouquet (but hey, it brought joy to the vendor). Delighted by the sight of the flowers now in his possession, he twirled around in sheer bliss.

“[Y/N]! Wait!” 

You were in the middle of walking across the street and by the time Jungkook got there, a car nearly hit him, causing him to nearly stumble and drop the bouquet. The car’s blaring horn compelled you to finally turn around, swiftly grabbing him by the arm and guiding him to the safety of the sidewalk.

“Are you crazy? Weren’t you on your way to the hospital?” you said, releasing your grip on him. With a toothy grin, he handed you the bouquet of sunflowers.

“I heal fast. These are for you.” 

You stared at the flowers, then back at him, overcome with disbelief. 

“I hate flowers,” you confessed, a tinge of annoyance in your voice.

“Wait, really?” he said, his hand instinctively reaching for his forehead in frustration. “I thought girls loved flowers.”

“All they do is wilt and die.”

“Well, you said I wasn’t boyfriend material, but I’m trying my best. You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take them back. I’ll get the boyfriend thing right one day. You’ll see.”

His face beamed with optimism, but it stung your heart a little. Unable to resist, you extended your hand towards the bouquet. “No, I’ll take them. They’re beautiful, thank you.”

He studied your movements and you even went as far as to smell the flowers letting out a satisfied “ahh” sound afterward. 

“You’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, okay~. Get out of here. I have work and you have to get to a hospital!”

“No, I’m fine.”

You placed your hand on your hip and playfully jabbed him in the side, causing him to flinch. "Ow, ow, OW! Alright, I get it. I'll go to the hospital."

You spun him around and nudged his back. “Alright, go on. Get out of here.”

“What am I, an animal?”

“Worse. An arachnid,” you joked. Jungkook walked back across the street once it was clear, making sure to turn back and wave at you. You waved back and when he finally got far enough, you let out the sneeze you had been holding in. 

“Ugh… now I gotta find a vase,” you said, sniffling. Jungkook quietly smiled to himself, his heightened sense of hearing providing him with another reason to love you.

Friday

This was the worst thunderstorm you’ve seen in a while. You just finished watching a movie you’d been dying to see and would usually take the train home, but you had to first be able to get to the station without problem. This was one of those times you wished you had a car.

Due to the storm warnings, most people had left the theater early. You found yourself alone outside, contemplating whether to go back inside and wait out the storm with the employees. However, before you could make a decision, you heard a familiar voice.

“[Y/N]! What are you doing outside? It’s raining like crazy!”

“Oh no.”

You began walking away from him in the freezing rain, berating yourself for not bringing a jacket with a hood. Jungkook followed closely behind you.

“Are you really going to keep avoiding me? Even in this weather?”

“Yup!” 

“This is crazy. Come to my place. It’s not far away.”

“Nice try.”

“I’m serious, this is dangerous!”

“So now you can realize when a situation’s dangerous!”

You kept on trudging on amidst the ferocious storm, which only worsened the more steps you took. The wind became so powerful that abandoned pieces of furniture and appliances were scattered across the street. You took shelter behind a washing machine just in time to avoid being blown away by a gust of wind. Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t as lucky and desperately clung to a pole to avoid being swept away. But even still, he managed to call out for you.

“See?! This is why you should come back to my place!!!”

“Is sex the only thing on your mind?!”

“If it’s with you! Oh shi–” His grip loosened and he flew backwards in the wind current.

“Jungkook!” you screamed, abandoning your safe spot to rush to his side. He laid motionless on the ground, unresponsive even as you shook him. “Are you okay? Please respond. I can’t–I can’t deal with the thought of losing you. Come back and annoy me, damn it!”

He let out a sputter of a laugh and then quickly shut his lips, still pretending to be dead. 

“You little shit. Wake up this instant!”

“No, I could die happy now because I know you care about me.”

“Troublemaker,” you said, landing a punch on his chest. The impact jolted him awake, and he groaned as you turned away. However, a massive tree branch was heading your way through the wind and before you could react, Jungkook shot a web and pulled you to safety, right into his arms. 

Gasping for breath, your heart racing from the sudden surge of adrenaline, the two of you locked eyes, oblivious to everything else around you. Even in the rain, he remained breathtakingly handsome, with his long, black hair clinging to his face and water cascading off his cute button nose. Your gaze trailed down to his stylish black and white jacket, appreciating the definition of his abs visible through his drenched white t-shirt.

“Do I have permission to take you back to my place now?” You felt your words get caught in your throat. "Please," he added softly, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation and hope. You simply extended your hand, and he stared at it, taken aback. Realizing your sincerity, he became ecstatic and tightly held your hand as the coincidental storm came to a halt. Hand in hand, you dragged him in a specific direction, noticing how he did a cute little run to keep up with your brisk steps.

“Wait… this isn’t the way back to my place,” Jungkook said, his voice filled with confusion. You simply smirked and continued to drag him by the arm towards the entrance of your destination. "Why are we at a police station?" he questioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Babe, if you wanted to handcuff me, I already have a pair back home."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you responded, "Trust me, this isn't about handcuffs."

A smirk formed on Jungkook's lips as he leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. "So, what's the grand plan then? Are you filing a restraining order against me?" His words held a hint of excitement, as if he was relishing the idea.

You pretended to consider it for a moment, then nodded with mock seriousness. "Yup, that's exactly what I'm doing."

Jungkook burst into laughter, his infectious giggles filling the air. "You're serious right now?" 

Your expression turned determined as you raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”

He gave you his signature doe eyes. “I’d rather die than be apart from you.”

“Go ahead.”

Saturday

Trouble: I miss u. Pls talk to me.

Trouble: I need u to ride my face. I was dreaming about it, like seriously. 

Trouble: Aren’t u curious if webs come out my dick? Trouble: Spoiler: they don’t. 

Trouble: Ok, pls I’m dying. Really. Help. 

Immediately after receiving the last text, you wasted no time in calling him. He picked up after the first ring. 

“Jungkook? Are you okay? What happened?!”

“Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine. Yay, you’re talking to me.”

“... I thought you said you were dying!”

"Yeah, because being away from you feels like dying."

“This isn’t funny, I was seriously worried you died or something. This is exactly why I can’t be your girlfriend. Bye.”

“No, no. Please don’t go.”

You hung up, but a flurry of texts flooded in and seeing the same unread message notification was driving you crazy. So you did the sensible thing and turned off your phone because your break was over anyway. Part of you thought Jungkook was going to show up at your workplace again but as the hours passed by, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe I should turn on my phone again… just to see if he’s okay. No, I shouldn’t give him the attention. Or maybe I should? Where is he?

“Hey [Y/N],” Jin said, gesturing for you to come over to where he was sitting, “You need to see this.”

You set down the cleaning cloth you were holding and made your way over to the booth he was at, where a large television overhead was displaying an explosion that happened a couple hours ago. Jin turned up the volume and your heart dropped as your mouth turned dry. 

The words “Breaking News” flashed across the screen as the news anchor stated, “In a shocking turn of events, tragedy struck earlier today as an explosion ripped through the apartment of Jeon Jungkook, known to many as the heroic figure, Spider-Man.”

Seeing the picture of Jungkook smiling in the corner made you fall to your knees. You stopped listening after they said he was presumed dead, and the authorities still had yet to recover his body. You didn’t even realize you were crying until the first tear dropped off your chin. Grabbing your phone, you quickly turned it on, anxiously waiting for the screen to load. Opening your text messages, you read them all quickly.

Trouble: I’m sorry for scaring u. :(

Trouble: I just wanna be with u.

Trouble: Am I annoying u? 

Trouble: I probably am.

Trouble: But ur all that’s on my mind.

Trouble: I know I’m jumping in fast. But I know I can make u happy. <3 We’ll take it slow. Whatever u want.

Trouble: Text me when u can.

The last text gutted you. 

Trouble: I really do love you. 🙂 I always will. Seven days a week. <3

You called him right after, but it was sent straight to voicemail. You tried again, only to meet the same fate. 

“Please tell me you’re alright… please tell me you’re alive,” you said through broken sobs. “There’s so much I want to tell you. Please call me back.”

Later that evening, Jungkook returned from a mission from a ways away at the request of Iron Man (how could he say no to Iron Man, the dude worshiped him). In the car, his mentor showed him the news video and Jungkook was stunned to see how everyone presumed him dead. Seeing how there was already a funeral service planned for him, he was astonished at their efficiency. 

“Can I borrow a suit?” Jungkook asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wanted to set things right, but he had to do it with style. His mentor was more than happy to oblige, finding his protege’s plan hilarious.

When the funeral service began, you were seated among your mutual friends as well as the civilians who adored him. One by one people came up to the podium to say a few words except for you. You hadn’t processed the shock of his death yet, clutching your phone in hopes he’d text you or call you soon. 

“[Y/N]? Would you please come up and say a few words?” You looked up at your friend and realized everyone had already gone. Slowly you approached the podium and took a deep breath, trying not to stare at Jungkook’s handsome portrait. 

“Um… hello… I’m [Y/N]. I’m uh… well, some of you think I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend, but we hadn’t established that yet,” You licked your lips to wet them to be able to continue speaking. “I want to believe he’s still alive. I want to tell him so many things. You know, he asked me out three times.”

The crowd smiled at this and it gave you the confidence to go on. “Yeah, I know. He was persistent. It’s honestly one of the things I loved about him. And you’re probably thinking why didn’t I give him a chance? Well… this is why. I was afraid he’d get hurt someday and I’d lose him. And now… I probably have.”

You started to cry again, but wanted to keep going. “Even though I knew this was always a possibility, it doesn’t hurt any less. I miss him. I miss his stupid jokes, I miss the way he scrunches his nose, I miss the way he looks angry when he eats something delicious… I miss him. I wish he knew the truth.”

You looked at the closed casket in sorrow. “I love you, Jungkook. I was just too scared to admit it.”

Walking over to the casket, you sighed. “How could you leave me? You said you’d always love me…”

The casket slowly opened and a familiar voice said, “Seven days a week.”

Everyone at the service was letting out cries of shock, some even standing up or falling down. One even fainted and someone shouted, “IT’S A GHOST!”

You were face to face with Jungkook in a pinstripe suit, smiling at you brightly. You stumbled backwards, shocked as he jumped out and stood in front of you. 

“Hey,” he said warmly. Your brain couldn’t register how relieved you were and the overwhelming flood of emotions caused you to default to hitting his chest repeatedly. 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me! What the fuck is going on?! I thought you died, how could you just pop up in a casket like it’s normal? Where the hell were you? You stopped replying and I got worried—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He caught both your wrists and chuckled. “I’m alive, I’m okay. I was out of town for a bit helping Iron Man. Not my fault I come back and everyone presumes I’m dead.”

“You didn’t pick up my calls…” you said, calmer than before. 

“Ah, my phone got destroyed in the battle. No big deal though, I’ll just get a new one.”

“I really thought you were gone,” you said, hating that the waterworks were coming back. You could barely breathe and hiccups were leaving your lips faster than you could keep up with. He pulled you into a hug, patting your back gently to ease your worries.

“I’d never leave my girl,” he whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength to say more, so you let him hold you as everyone flooded out of the room to spread the news about Spider-Man’s return.  

Walking hand in hand, you led him away from the somber atmosphere of the service, a glimmer of happiness returning to both of your faces. His smile, as bright as ever, mirrored the joy you felt at the simple act of your joined hands.

“Taking me to another police station? For the record I didn’t fake my death. I should sue the news station for that.”

You shook your head, your voice softening as you spoke. “No. We’re going to my place.”

Jungkook came to a sudden stop, causing you to stumble back a bit, caught off guard by his abrupt halt.

“Are you serious?”

“Well… yeah. Your place was destroyed. It’s late. Were you going to stay somewhere else?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment. “Guess I’ll go home then. Goodnight.”

You tried to leave, but Jungkook wouldn’t let go of your hand, finding your reactions adorable.

“What? Are you sad I’m not going home with you?”

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s your loss, really.”

You stared at the ground, kicking a pebble across the street to distract yourself from your own vulnerability. Jungkook cupped your face and tilted your head up, so you would look at him. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to go home with you, beautiful. I do. But there’s a chance they might go after your place next and I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. You were right. I wasn’t taking things seriously.”

A mix of surprise and tenderness washed over you as you heard him acknowledge your concerns.

“Did you just admit that I was right? I must be dreaming.”

“To be fair, I’ve put away a lot of bad people and most of them are too terrified to face me again. I guess I let my guard down, thinking we were in the clear.”

“Yeah, that type of arrogance is why you’re such a pain.”

“But you love me anyway. I heard you say it.”

“I’m starting to regret it honestly.”

“... I still heard it.”

“Y-Your death caught me off guard,” you stammered. “Anyway, what are we going to do then if we’re both homeless?”

“I have a place we can go to. Do you trust me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated only for a moment before nodding in affirmation.

“Yes.”

“Then come here.” He gently guided your hands to wrap around his neck, his touch sending a comforting warmth through your fingertips. “Now, put your legs around my waist.”

You followed his instructions, securing your legs around him, feeling the strength in his embrace. A grin spread across his face as he saw your trust.

“Good girl. Hold on tight.”

He launched a web toward the tallest nearby building, propelling the two of you into the sky with incredible height and speed. You held onto him tight, loving how you finally got to swing with the one and only Spider-Man. 

Jungkook ended up swinging you to the Avengers Compound. He was assigned a room a while back and hadn’t used it much, but tonight was the perfect opportunity to do so. It was more than safe with the latest security updates, so you didn’t need to worry about him or yourself. 

Naturally, walking into the Compound felt out of sorts to you because you didn’t feel like you belonged. It was like you trespassing on sacred ground. But once you reached Jungkook’s room, that feeling gradually dissipated. The spaciousness and comfort of the room welcomed you, making you feel more at ease. Windows surrounded the room, allowing natural light to pour in, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. A dumbbell rack occupied one corner, a testament to Jungkook's dedication to staying fit, while on the opposite side stood an impressive gaming setup.

Taking a seat on the bed, you watched as Jungkook immediately knelt down on one knee, his gentle hands reaching for your heels.

“Let me take these off for you.”

You offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s my honor.”

Your eyes locked for a moment, the unspoken connection between you both growing stronger. However, Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the intimate silence.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes. They might be big though if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you… for taking care of me.”

Jungkook smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “It’s my purpose, love.”

His words resonated deeply within you, leaving you speechless. Fortunately, he broke eye contact and went over to his closet, pulling out an oversized T-shirt with a pair of sports shorts. He handed you the neatly folded pile of clothes and gestured you towards the bathroom. After you got changed, you opened the door to see he had already changed too. He wore a gray shirt and matching gray sweats, the simple attire making him effortlessly stylish.

“Do you have a toothbrush?” you asked timidly. He nodded and went over to grab one from the cabinet for you, selecting your favorite color on purpose. Grabbing his own toothbrush, the two of you brushed your teeth in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze in the mirror before looking away.

Once done, you both walked back to his room, but he stopped at the doorway. “So um… I’ll sleep in the living room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You shook your head in protest.

“I need you.” He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. “Because… It's cold in this room. And two people in the room allows enough body heat to travel and set the room to optimal temperature. If you leave, it’ll be too cold to sleep at night.”

You mentally cursed at how stupid you sounded right now, but Jungkook kept smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life. “Well, if it's a matter of optimal temperature, then I guess I have no choice but to stay. After all, I wouldn't want you shivering in the cold all night, now would I?”

“Exactly. It has to be balanced.”

“Alright. You’ve convinced me.”

Jungkook stepped into the room and shut the door. You quickly got under the covers but then realized he was grabbing an extra comforter from his closet and placing it on the floor.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“This is your room. Don’t be silly.”

“But—”

“Sleep with me. U-Up here. There’s plenty of room.”

Jungkook watched you closely, waiting for a shift in expression but you were dead serious. He awkwardly put the comforter back and made his way over to you, getting underneath the covers. 

“Goodnight,” he said, the stiffness evident in his voice.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your tone mirroring the tension in the room. Jungkook turned on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a soft glow across the room, and both of you lay down on your respective sides, facing away from each other. The air in the room grew thick with palpable tension, amplified by the sound of your racing heart and shallow breaths.

“[Y/N]?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you, so sleep comfortably, okay? I won’t try anything.”

Something inside you snapped, a surge of emotions and desires bubbling up to the surface. You couldn't hold back any longer. “Maybe I want you to try something.”

His body stiffened for a split second, and then he quickly turned over to his other side. Following his lead, you mirrored his movement, facing the opposite direction.

“Are you… sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know a lot’s happened.”

You chuckled softly and cupped his face, your eyes full of love and desire. “What am I going to do with you, Trouble?”

“Am I… Am I Trouble?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. You are. You always will be.”

His grin widened. “I like it.”

“I like you.” There was a brief pause as you stared into his eyes, noticing how his pupils dilated. “I might even… love you. A lot.”

You tenderly traced his lip piercing with your thumb before leaning in, allowing your lips to meet in a gentle and lingering kiss. Jungkook responded eagerly, his lips moving in sync with yours as he sought the perfect angle and rhythm. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, intoxicated by the sensation of his lips on yours. A soft moan escaped your lips as he gently nibbled on your bottom lip, his teeth teasingly tugging at the delicate skin. The kiss continued for a few minutes until you leaned back, needing to catch your breath. 

“Wow…” you breathed. “You’re good.”

“I know. I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for as long as I can remember.” 

A moment of silence filled the air, carrying a blend of tenderness and a hint of inexperience. Jungkook’s been with plenty of women, sure. And you too had your fair share of dating experiences. But this would be your first time with each other. Until now, you two had never shared a kiss. 

Jungkook, being considerate and thoughtful, wanted to make sure you felt at ease throughout the entire experience. Taking his time, he gently asked, "Are you okay if we… continue?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “It’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Unless all that talk about fucking me seven days a week was a lie,” you challenged, the smirk on your face branding you as a total brat. Jungkook immediately got on top of you, pinning both your wrists over your head. 

“Oh babe… you have no idea what I’m capable of, do you?” He kissed you again, pulling away with an audible smooch sound. “Such a tease.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

He poked his tongue against his cheek at your bratty behavior, opting to pin you down with one hand while the other traced the lines of your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt. He watched your face for confirmation.

“Go ahead, Trouble.”

He slid the material up slowly, revealing your breasts to his feasting eyes. It was his first time seeing you like this and god, you were more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined (and he’s imagined you plenty of times). 

“Please, do stare longer,” you teased, trying to fight the self-conscious part of you. 

“I’m memorizing every detail,” Jungkook said, his eyes full of admiration. “You’re gorgeous.”

“You really think so?”

Usually you’d be more confident, but with him, you felt shy. Maybe it was because he had more experience than you, leaving you with a lingering curiosity about how you measured up against his past flings. Or maybe it was because he’s Spider-Man and the fear of the unknown loomed in your thoughts. Or maybe… you knew this one night would change things between you two forever.

“Hey…” He released your wrists and rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb before proceeding to place a chaste kiss there as if to ease your worries. “I mean it. You’re beyond stunning, I’m a lucky guy. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”

“Thank you… I don’t know, I just… I’m scared. Things will never be the same after this.”

“Yeah… that’s true. I know you’re worried and think this won’t work out. I know you’re doubting a lot of things. But if there’s one thing you shouldn’t doubt, it’s my love for you.”

“Jungkook…”

“I want you safe. I want you to be comfortable. We don’t have to do more. Okay?”

His eyes were sincere, his smile earnest. The way he kissed your forehead sent a comforting warmth throughout your whole body. He was so gentle with you, how could you not love him?

He was about to get off of you until you confessed, “I love you too. And I don’t want to hold back anymore so…” 

You cupped your breasts together with both hands, luring him in. “Don’t hold back either.”

Jungkook didn’t say any more and immediately took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. You arched your back in pleasure as he massaged your other breast while flicking your nipple with his tongue. Moans and licking noises left his lips, the sinful sounds increasing your desire tenfold. Running your hand through his luscious black locks, you tugged gently to bring him closer and he responded with a groan. 

“Your breasts are fucking perfect, you’re perfect,” he said raspily as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment before sucking on the skin hard enough to bruise it. “You’re such a temptation.”

He placed his face in the valley of your breasts, littering your chest with kisses before latching his warm lips on your neck. You mewled when he sucked the spot under your jaw, figuring he left another hickey. 

“I have work in the morning,” you whined in faux protest, secretly relishing in the fact he was claiming you as his.

“Good. Now everyone can envy who I have as my girlfriend,” he said, continuing to make out with your neck. His hand trailed down your body and slipped into your shorts and you felt him smiling against your skin, relishing at feeling how wet you were. “No panties? You’re already so wet for me…”

His middle finger rubbed up and down your slit a few times as you took in some sharp breaths, especially when he pressed on your clit. You wanted more, you needed more. Thrusting your hips up so the pressure would be just right, you sighed in content.  

“Such a needy girl. I haven’t even done much and you’re already such a mess.” He dipped his middle finger slowly, invading your tight walls. You moaned as he thrusted it in and out, waiting for you to adjust to the size before inserting another. He curled them just so, knowing he was hitting the right spot by the way your body reacted. Your breaths were becoming shaky, your body trembling, as you begged him to go faster.

“Please, don’t stop, sir,” you pleaded. His eyes darkened, loving how you addressed him. He fingered you faster as a reward, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in bliss as your orgasm built up. Curses left your lips as you squirmed on his bed and he loved every second of it. What sealed the deal was when he attacked your neck again, biting down with just the right amount of pressure to pleasure you. Your first orgasm ripped through you and he helped you through the blissful waves, scissoring his fingers expertly. 

“Such a good girl, so sexy,” Jungkook praised, gradually slowing down when your body gave out. Your chest rose and fell as you came back down to earth. He chuckled, removing his drenched fingers and sucking them clean, making obscene wet noises. “Fuck, I need more. You taste amazing.”

He got in between your legs and carefully pulled down your shorts as you lifted your hips up, discarding them behind him. You got nervous when you realized he was staring at your womanhood unashamed, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. 

“You’re staring,” you pointed out shyly. He palmed himself through his sweats, shaking his head.

“No baby. I’m admiring. So fucking sexy… I need you to ride my face. Please.”

“But what if… what if I crush you?” you asked timidly, having not done something like that before.

“Ugh, I’d die happy. Sit on me, please. Here,” He laid flat on his back, so his head was slightly hanging off the edge of the bed. “Get off the bed and hover over me.”

You obliged but were still apprehensive. He stared up at you upside-down, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly. 

“Come on, baby. Ride my face and I promise it’ll be worth it. We can stop whenever you want.” 

“You’ll let me know if I’m hurting you?”

He chuckled at how sweet you were being. “Yes, I will. Now open those pretty legs of yours, yeah. Just like that. Fuck,” You got closer to him and appreciated he was guiding you every step of the way. He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Let me have a taste.”

He palmed your cheeks and secured his head snug in between your thighs before licking a stripe of your cunt, cleaning up the mess he made of you while also encouraging more to come. You shuddered at the feeling of the wet muscle licking your folds and he moaned, the vibration sending tingles up your spine. He was devouring you like a starved man, the slurping sounds sinful, almost primal. 

He pulled you down more, allowing his tongue to slip inside and you were transported to heaven as he began tongue-fucking you as deep as he could. You couldn’t find the strength to hold yourself up anymore, so you placed your hands on either side of his body to hold yourself steady. But that’s when you noticed the tent in his pants and decided to pull his sweatpants down, exposing his large, aching cock. Not only was his length impressive, but the girth was more than you expected, your mouth watering at the thought of it inside you.

However, you had to give back and you ran your nails along his thigh to get his attention.

“Of course your cock is also perfect,” you said. Jungkook ceased his actions for a moment, his breath hitched at the thought of what you were going to do next. “I want to please you too, Trouble.”

“Fuck, please do. Wait, I have an idea. Switch spots with me.”

“Hmm? Okay…”

You were clueless of his plans, but you laid down on the bed upside-down while he got up, removing his shirt and sweats completely. Your shirt was the last article of clothing left on your body, so you removed it as well while ogling Jungkook’s defined body. He was toned in all the right places as if sculpted by the gods themselves, a delicious feast for your eyes. As he hovered above you, the tip of his cock was dangerously close to your lips, so you placed a chaste kiss on it. 

He rubbed your cheek lovingly at this action, pleased. “You wanna suck my cock that badly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

In one swift motion, Jungkook wrapped his arms around the underside of your thighs and lifted you up so that you and him were both standing together. Except you were still upside-down, realizing he wanted to do the 69 position while standing. You let out a yelp at the sudden bold action and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

“Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t drop me.”

“I’ve got you, beautiful. You okay?”

“Your dick kinda smacked me in the face.”

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”

You giggled. “It’s okay… I kinda liked it.”

Your hands gripped onto Jungkook’s firm ass for support as you slowly took his cock deep in your mouth. He hugged your waist securely, returning his mouth on your pussy and sucking harshly while moving his head side to side rapidly. Your moans were muffled by his cock as you did your best to bob your head up and down in the difficult position. The blood rushing to your head made things a little harder to focus, but you continued to deep throat him while swirling your tongue around his member. 

Each time his cock hit the back of your throat, he let out a restrained moan, increasing the pressure of his lips on your clit. But you were relentless, not letting up on your steady pace.

“Fuck, are you trying to make me cum?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily. You released his cock with a loud pop of your lips. 

“Is it working?”

He gently placed you back down on the bed and then proceeded to grab a condom from his nightstand drawer. “I don’t want to cum until you do.”

You rearranged yourself so you were oriented correctly on the bed while you watched him rip the package open with his teeth, which was very seductive in your eyes. 

“Guess that means no spider-babies then,” you joked. A faint blush colored his cheeks in response to the comment.

“I want to do things right with you. Maybe after some time… we can take that risk,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. You felt your heart blossom, wondering how it was possible to love him more than before. 

You watched as he rolled the condom onto his fat cock before climbing back in bed in between your legs. Using one hand to hold himself up, the other one slowly guided the tip to your entrance, teasingly rubbing it up and down your slit.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. I need you inside me.”

You held your breath as he slowly inserted into you, making sure you could take the first inch before adding another. He prepped you well, the transition smooth, but you let out a whimper when he finally bottomed out into you. 

He shuddered above you, growling at the sensation. “You’re squeezing me so tight, love. You feel so… so good.” 

He grabbed both your hands and intertwined his fingers with your own as he began to thrust into you, his movements nice and languid, making sure to shove his entire cock in you before pulling out again. The moment was full of passion and tenderness, the love he had for you undeniable. You were observant how his face was a portrait of restrained desire, etched with visible tension as he continued to fuck you. His features contorted, the muscles in his jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed in a valiant effort to restrain himself. 

“Jungkook…” you breathed. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?”

He opened his eyes and stopped moving, a pang of guilt spread across his face. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“It’s different this time.”

“Because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Because it’s you.” You clenched around him tightly at that and he hissed. “Fuck… and you say I’m trouble.”

You gave him a peck on the lips. “I want you to feel good too. I can take it. Fuck me like you love me.”

Your words were filthy despite the angelic glow casted upon you from the lamp on his bedside table. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up so he was sitting on his ankles, his hands taking place on your thighs while your legs rested on his shoulders. Kissing your ankle gingerly, he proceeded to pick up the pace, thrusting into you with a rough slam before repeating the motion over and over. You had the wind knocked out of you when he finally went to town, jack-hammering into you aggressively.

“Fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” you said, unable to do anything but take the assault to your cunt. Your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust, the sight so inviting that he embraced one of them for stability.

“Is this what you wanted? Huh?” Jungkook asked as if he was challenging you. You could barely reply with a broken yes before he changed things up, pinning your hands down again while forcing your legs to go up all the way, slamming his hips into you mercilessly. You were screaming at this point, your pussy wrapped around him tightly like a vice.

He grunted as he exerted himself, loving the way his muscles burned while your face contorted with pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and lifted you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on his knees on the bed, kissing you deeply and giving the both of you a quick break. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, letting me fuck that sweet pussy,” he whispered in between kisses. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he guided his stiff cock back inside you, moving you up and down as he pleased. The squelching sounds of your pussy were obscene and you couldn’t do anything but take it deep. It didn’t take long before Jungkook was standing, finding more stability this way and holding you securely before ramming into you at a bruising pace.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, unashamed about your strength kink and how his strong muscles fucking you were a dream come true. The familiar pleasure was building again and you were near tears at this point when your second orgasm of the night hit you faster than expected. You threw your head back in bliss, crying out his name like a mantra. 

Before you knew it, you were placed back onto the bed, thankful you could catch your breath. Honestly you could have passed out at this point, but with a swift move, Jungkook flipped you over so that you were on your stomach and he laid on top of you, his tattooed bicep holding your neck gently as he panted into your ear.

“You thought we were done, right? We’re not done,” he said, voice deep and husky. 

You gulped, feeling another wave of arousal in between your thighs. “You didn’t cum yet?”

He let out a sinister chuckle. “Weren’t you listening? I said I’m not done. Understand?”

“Yes sir. I understand.”

He slid his dick into you once more, fucking you like a madman while holding you close, whispering sweet words of praise into your ear. His moans became more broken over time, more whiny, indicating he was close. His hips were stuttering, but he pushed through and slammed into you one final time, releasing into the condom. You let out a content sigh as he finally released you so you could lay your head down while he rested his on your back, panting. 

“Fuck, you were so amazing,” Jungkook said after a couple minutes, pressing butterflies kisses on your back. 

“Yeah, you were… so…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, still in a daze. 

He smirked. “Good? Fantastic? The best you’ve ever had?”

“... Maybe.”

He pushed himself off you and pulled out his dick, taking off the condom and tying it to discard in his trash can. As much as you wanted to bask in the afterglow and fall asleep, you knew you had to clean yourself up properly. To your surprise, Jungkook scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom himself. 

“Go pee,” he urged, setting you down. 

“You need to go pee too,” you countered. 

“... Will you hold it while I go?” 

You burst out laughing, recalling how you saw that trend on TikTok for couples. “Oh my god, no.”

“Damn,” he said, joining in your laughter. You noticed how his dick was still semi-erect and honestly, the size was still very remarkable.

“Are you still hard?”

“It’ll go away, don’t worry about it.”

“... Well… where are your web shooters?” you asked with a certain twinkle in your eye. Jungkook licked his lips at the thought of what you were possibly insinuating. 

“They’re in my room of course. Why?”

“... Maybe you can use them on me.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get to “clean up” after yourself for a while.

Sunday

By the time you woke up, your hands instinctively reached out for Jungkook only to feel nothing but the bedsheets. Sitting up straight, you stared at the empty spot in wonder. Where could he be?

Getting out of bed, you found your legs to be a bit wobbly. The memory of last night’s events resurfaced and you smiled in amusement. Jeon Jungkook talked big, but oh, he kept his word. Even your lower back was aching, but you persevered and explored the Compound looking for him. 

It was when you went up to the rooftop balcony that you spotted him on something quite unexpected. The place must’ve been under construction or something because Jungkook was dancing on a platform in the air that was attached to a crane nearby. He was jovial, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. You went over to the ledge right away, waving your hands around so he would notice you.

“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You shook your head as a smile broke out on your face.

“What are you doing, silly?”

“I woke up early. Couldn’t sleep anymore. Too happy.”

He held onto one of the ropes on the corner of the platform, dangling half his body off of it without a care in the world. You wanted to rip your hair out at his recklessness.

“What are you doing?!”

*Thwip, thwip*

In an instant, you were pulled off the ledge and onto the platform with him, caught securely in his arms. “You idiot! What if I fell?! Oh my god, get me down. I’m gonna kill y—”

He kissed you tenderly and you melted like butter, unable to resist his touch. When he pulled away, you saw how he glowed in the warm sunlight and the insurmountable love in his gaze. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“What are you even saying right now?” you said softly, giggling at how cute he was.

“We can go on a date. Like, a proper one. No chandeliers falling, no hanging off trains, or laundromats flooding. I promise.”

You placed your forehead against his. “I’d love to, Trouble.”

“Yay! I have a girlfriend!!! The best girlfriend ever!!!” he shouted while jumping up and down, causing the platform to wobble. Panic settled in your features as you hit his chest. 

“We’re going to fall, you idiot!”

“I’m finally your idiot though,” he said, squeezing your waist. You sighed, knowing he was right. The Jungkook you knew was always trouble. 

But now he was your Trouble. 

And then the blip happened... I’m totally joking. LOL.  Hope you enjoyed!!!

Tag List: @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad | @gxtwllsn | @frieschan | @loomipee | @coffee-jeon | @hellbornsworld​ | @sizzlingfestpeach

#jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #spider man jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x original character #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook seven #my scenarios

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 4) part 1, part 2, part 3

-

You remember the lock turning on the door of another room.

Ice flooding your veins. Heart suddenly tripling in speed, flush against your breastbone, close to snapping your ribs and pumping right out. A man standing in front of the locked door, barring your only way out. Petrified, but not confused; it’d always been an inevitability, something you’d long been waiting to happen, but hoping beyond hope that maybe you’d skirt by it unscathed. 

You’re in a bedroom, but you’re also in a study hundreds of miles away, cabinets along the walls filled with jade carvings and porcelain trinkets, bookcases filled with untouched first editions with the spines still stiff, a leather chair tucked into wide mahogany desk, and a grandfather clock ticking ominously in the corner. And you’re watching a man come into the room and lock the door, shutting you both inside. 

There is a bust of the same man in the corner of the room. When you sink into the memory, your eyes drag there and hold.

“Honey? Honey, are you alright?”

You come back to yourself at the sound of another man’s voice. When you blink, the memory leeches out of the corners of your eyes and you find Price looking down at you with some concern, a slight furrow between his brows. You shudder out the memory until it’s wrung out, until you’re dry of it. Sweat cools on the back of your neck. There’s a tremble in your hand that you notice when you go to rub your forehead, a shake that even Price notices, taking your wrist and pulling it to his chest.

There is no bust in the corner of the room here. The man that locked the door holds your wrist tenderly to his chest and waits for you to answer, his lips still sloped down. The black spots fade from your vision one by one, panic retreating back into your bones. It leaves a too big hole inside of you. 

You know it’s still within you. It slumbers in the marrow of your bones; it cowers in there, sometimes close enough to kiss or close enough to cradle your head and crack it against the nearest ledge. 

“Honey?” he asks again. The deep tenor of his voice moves something back to life inside of you, as much as it pains you to admit. Even to yourself. 

You blink up at him, only realizing how dry your mouth is when you croak out, “I’m—I’m alright. Apologies.”

He doesn’t seem much convinced. Perhaps he has a right to doubt your words. You can’t see the tormented thing staring back at him. 

“I’ve given you a few too many frights today,” Price sighs, head dropping towards you, like drawing a curtain around the two of you. “Thought maybe you needed a bit of a push, but you’re not quite there, darling, are you?”

“Not where?” you ask, lost. “Where am I not?”

For once, he doesn’t answer, doesn’t try to force his vision into your head. It shocks you when he dips his head to press his lips against your forehead, lingering there for several moments. Breathing you in. You let him linger there, half-curious yourself, a softness suffusing into you like breath. 

“Are you hungry enough to eat? Or straight to bed?”

His words give you a nervous thrill, but when you catch his eye, there’s nothing to read there. Absent of double meaning. He’s asking you if you’re hungry and if you’re wanting to eat. 

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m still…well, I’ve had a bit of a cramp all afternoon. I don’t think I’m up to eating.”

“Not even tea or cake?”

The thought intrigues you, but not enough for your stomach to untwist. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

He hums against your forehead, then presses another kiss there, then a third on your temple, breathing out a puff of air that blows across your face and tickles your nose. “Not hungry for anything then,” he surmises, and you hear it there, the silvery flipside of an innuendo. You scrunch up your nose and flinch when he chuckles. “How about just a bath then? And then we’ll tuck in for the night.” 

“That sounds nice. Do you, um…I could help if you want?"

“Already fetched the water earlier today. Wash tub’s downstairs. You can stay here or come down and wait until the water’s warm.”

Finally, he pulls back and puts some space between the two of you. Something buried deep in your chest clicks when he unlocks the door and steps out. You try not to look at it too hard. 

You follow him downstairs, more out of habit than anything. With the water already fetched from the well and Price starting a fire to heat it up enough for a warm bath, there’s not much for you to do besides wait, but you join him downstairs anyway, taking the time to look around. 

“Toothpowder, brushes, and mint are in the drawer under the sink if you need any,” Price tells you. You don’t bother with the mint, but you use the rest to clean your teeth in the bathroom sink, a bowl of water already waiting for you to help rinse your mouth. You rethink the mint afterwards, chewing on a couple of leaves to rid your mouth of the chalky aftertaste. 

It takes awhile to heat up enough water for a bath, giving you time to peruse the rest of the house. After spending the bulk of your day locked up in his room, it’s nice to stretch your legs and move about. The rest of the house is fairly typical, barebones; Price heats up the water in a stone fireplace in the main room and at the other end of the house, you find the kitchen.

The crickets in the bushes out front are louder than you’ve ever heard them. For a moment, you stand alone by the front door, fingers twitching by your sides. It wouldn’t do you any good to run, but your feet feel quick now, light after hours of rest. You could bolt like an Appaloosas if you wanted to. 

Then Price calls your name and you drift back to the other room.

Steam billows off the water in the metal tub. It’s only halfway filled, which makes you frown; you have no right to be picky after the days you’ve spent cleaning yourself with a damp washcloth over a porcelain bowl, but you can’t help thinking that it’ll hardly come up to your waist. Still, staring at the warm water makes your skin itch; you could practically kiss the bar of soap sitting on the floor next to the tub. If there wasn’t a man in the room, your dress would already be on the floor. 

“Are you still waiting on more to heat up?” you ask, casting a glance at the fireplace where a small flame still burns. There isn’t a bucket of water hovering over it though, just a poker stowed back in its place. 

“Any more and I’ll be mopping up water for the rest of the night,” he huffs. “That’s more than enough for us.”

“Us?” you repeat. 

It only makes sense when you turn around and stare wide-eyed at Price as he untucks his shirt and starts at the buttons, each one slipped through the hole exposing a new inch of chest covered in dark hair. You make a noise at the back of your throat, half-aghast. The other half, indeterminate. If your feet weren’t glued to the floor, you’d stop him or grab his hands. Instead, you watch mutely as he pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his pants, mouth drying at each new slab of muscle revealed.

You swallow reflexively when his pants pool around his ankles on the floor. You catch a glimpse of thick thighs covered in dark hair and something heavy dangling between his legs before you avert your eyes, staring straight up at the ceiling. Sure to give yourself a kink in your neck, but perhaps forgivable this time. 

“Us?” It comes out squeaky this time, high and tight in your throat. Price laughs.

When he moves towards you, you can hardly so much as lift a finger to keep him at bay. Your body feels tethered in place, sluggish and inert. The world moves around you instead, doubly so when Price fits his hands at your waist and twists you to face away from him. 

Big hands ruck up the fabric of your dress, slowly pulling it over your head. You lift your arms for him on command, the whole time baffled by how little struggle you put up. You imagine him telling that deputy of his what an obedient little bride he’s found for himself. 

“Us,” Price confirms, emphasizing the word the same way you did. “We’d be here all night if we took turns. Water’d be ice cold by then too. You’d rather I freeze my nethers off?” You open your mouth to reply but he cuts you off. “Don’t answer that.”

That pulls a real giggle from your chest, shocking you both. Breath sits like a bubble in your chest. You feel his fingers still at the ties of your corset before pulling it through. 

He loosens each lace slowly, giving each a gentle pull. It’s nerve wracking, nail-biting tedium, the corset gradually giving way to his touch and drooping into your waist. You let him undo each of the hooks and unwrap it from your torso before pulling off your chemise underneath, flesh chilling in the open air. Even stationed behind you, you feel his stare like a heavy, weighted thing. His fingertips trace over the naked skin of your back, looping small circles just for the pleasure of touching your skin. 

Gooseflesh runs down the length of your arms, shivering from his touch as much as the cool air. You tell yourself that it means nothing just to put it all away.

“Alright, let’s get you washed up,” he says gruffly, clearing his throat. “Been awhile since you had a warm bath, I bet.” 

You turn part way around, watching him from the corner of your eye. If only he knew. 

Price gets in the tub first and it’s immediately obvious to you why he hardly filled the tub. His body takes up so much room that you frown when you realize that he expects you to get in next. It’s one of the bigger tubs you’ve ever bathed in and yet he still has to bend his knees. The sigh he lets out after relaxing against the back of the tub makes you shiver. 

When he glances up at you swelteringly, you hear the evocation unspoken. 

“If you’d just give me a minute,” you snap. 

“Darlin’.” 

The note of warning in his voice finally tips you over the edge of hesitancy where you’d been precariously balanced. 

The water is still warm when you dip a foot tentatively in. It’s easier to ignore the indulgent smile on Price’s face than engage with it, sure you’d shout yourself hoarse if you finally let your composure crack. 

You think it vaguely humiliating to have to turn around in front of Price in the tub in order to lower yourself to sit. He doesn’t touch you yet, but there’s no way to avoid the weight of his eyes on your backside. It’s not something you’ve thought about much before. A man’s hands on you, stripped bare for him, lowering yourself into a hot bath with him. 

You peek over your shoulder. “Do you ever stop staring?”

A pointless question. He doesn’t even meet your eye to respond, just stares at the curve of your ass with heavy lidded eyes, the faintest pink hue high on his cheeks. He hums instead. You purse your lips.

The water sloshes up the side of the tub when he pulls you down abruptly, settling your back against his chest. You stiffen in the cradle of his arms and chest, acutely aware of every point of your body pressed into his. When Price sighs now, it reverberates through your back and chest. 

“Why does it feel like you’ve been run against a whetstone?” he asks. The sound drips heavy from his lips because the room is silent apart from him, apart from the gentle lapping of the bath water against the sides of the tub and the water trickling from the washcloth when he lifts it out of the water and gives it a wring. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, frowning. 

“You’re all sharp, all hard edges. If I’m not careful, you might run me through.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you married me,” you huff. 

That gets another laugh out of him, raising your hackles. It’s hard to differentiate between ridicule and endearment. You opt for the former to guard yourself, to keep yourself safe. 

“I’ll take my chances.”

You can’t think of a way to respond to that. It’s loaded in an uncomfortable way. It’s easier to just let it pass into silence. Price doesn’t seem anxious for you to respond anyway, thankfully, instead reaching out of the tub to grab the bar of soap still on the floor. The movement pushes his pelvis into you, the length between his legs pressing against the small of your back. You jolt forward only for him to wrap an arm around your waist and haul you back. More water splashes over the rim.

“Christ, you’re skittish,” he gripes. 

“What do you expect me to do?” You squirm in his hold, which only makes his arm constrict tighter around you, drawing you even closer. 

“Sit there and let me wash you, for one. What’s got you all riled up?”

“You know exactly what,” you say, face hot when you feel it press against you again. 

“My—”

“Yes, that,” you hiss, digging your nails into his forearm. 

“Squirming around isn’t gonna make it go away,” Price teases, squeezing once before finally letting you go. You scoot forward as much as he allows, but it’s for naught; you can feel it press against you still. 

In the brief silence, Price lathers up the cloth until it froths, then puts the bar of soap back down on the floor. You almost stop him to say that you can wash yourself, but he starts on your arms before you’re so much as able to part your lips. 

Your nipples bead when he drags the washcloth over your chest. The material is coarse, almost abrasive, and when you wince, Price murmurs a soft apology into your ear. He’s softer when he pulls your legs one after the other from the water and sets your foot on the rim of the tub, dragging the cloth over your calves and up the inside of your thighs. You shake when his hand disappears under the water, biting your lip until it hurts.

You sit with the silence instead of electing to fill it. It’s better that way anyway; words can unravel so many interiorities that long for stasis. And what has the man at your back done to earn your words anyway, besides lock you up and throw away the key?

You’ll figure your way out eventually. It’s only a matter of time. 

His own washup is perfunctory, performed only to get it over with. None of the affection reserved for washing you. He barely makes you lean forward before dragging the cloth haphazardly across his chest, getting a few good scrubs in before calling it a day. 

“I can’t imagine why you’d spend so much time filling a bath just to wash up in five minutes,” you say, peering over your shoulder at him. Expressly not focusing on the pillowy muscles of his chest or the dark, wet hair now flush with his skin. 

“Haven’t used the tub in months,” he grunts, dunking the cloth in the bath water until it comes out clean. He wrings it dry before hanging it over the rim. “There’s a creek out back, ‘bout a ten minute walk from here.”

You frown. “You usually bathe in a creek?” 

“What’s the point in spending time heating up enough water for a bath when there’s a perfectly good creek nearby? Water’s water.”

“You did it for me.”

“That’s different.”

You roll your eyes. “It shouldn’t be.”

“You like to fuss over nothing, huh?” Price remarks. Again, it’s said so earnestly that it makes your skin prickle. 

When you stand, the water rushes off you in a wave, leaving you slick and cooling rapidly in the air. Your teeth clatter until he steps out of the tub to fetch you a towel, wrapping you up in it and patting you dry. You get a bit dizzy when he kneels before you to dry your legs, swaying on your feet. Under your breath, you mumble something like, you don’t have to. 

He ignores you. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you let it go. 

Your bare feet pick up stray dust and debris on your way back up the stairs alone. You wipe them off on the mat at the door before changing into your shift while Price empties the tub downstairs. The oil lamp on the bedside table illuminates most of the room when you light the wick and delicately put the chimney back in place, apart from the elongated shadows that hang from the corners like spiderwebs. 

The bed looks different when you know you’re meant to share it. You try not to tense up too much when you hear Price come up the stairs, eyeing him nervously from the other side of the room. 

“You’ve got that look again, darling,” he says, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t lock it this time. The knot in your shoulder aches when they untense. 

“What look?” you ask, averting your gaze when he drops the towel to change into his nightwear.

“Like a doe.”

You snort, distinctly unladylike. “Like a deer before it’s shot?”

“The very same. Didn’t I tell you it’d be straight to bed?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. In the back of your mind, you must have assumed he was placating you, saying words just to soothe. It’s rare that men speak plainly and mean it. Over the years, you’ve learned to read into second meanings and real intentions couched in soft words. Men like to think themselves simple, but you know a vast underground world. 

Some part of you grows anxious with your own inability to play the part of his simpering wife. He must have thought he’d be taking to bed something nurturing and with wings. It’d be easier if you just acquiesced; you can’t imagine he’d worry so much about his doting wife fleeing in the middle of the night. Not the wife happy to spread her legs for him.

“Why are you so patient?” you ask him outright instead. 

He takes a moment to answer, studying you. His face by lamplight is inscrutable. “Nothing good comes plucked too soon.”

“You don’t think that God gave you the right to—” You can’t say the words, but he understands. 

“The methods of God take pickaxes and shovels to uncover,” Price says, so simply, so plainly. You hardly understand what he means. “It’s not a man’s place to rush to understand His intentions.”

You think it’s almost unfair for a man to say those words to you when you plan on running away from him. It makes you dig your nails into the palms of your hands. 

You’re still nervous when you crawl into bed, eyeing him when he settles on his side and turns the lamp off, cupping his palm around the glass and blowing out the flame. There’s little to worry about though. Price doesn’t so much as shift from his side of the bed. 

The world outside is beyond gold and red now, when you stare out the window from where you lie on your side. When you think of the past, it comes with a searing pain. Then, it is no more.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain price #captain john price #cod price #john price #price x you #price x reader #price/reader #john price x reader

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— fuck his brains out

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

In which you pretend not to know your boyfriend is Kick-Ass. maybe OOC characters, I got a little carried away, and maybe mixed timeline, I haven't watched the movies in a while... Also, Dave x Mean! reader because who doesn't love that?

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

“I think Kick-Ass is hotter,” you look over at Dave, licking your ice cream almost teasingly. “If I had the chance, I’d fuck his brains out.”

Dave blushed madly, rubbing his cheeks before you stand and tug on his arm. “Dave, I think we should start heading out. You’re walking me home, right?”

Dave nodded quickly, as you thought that it was best because you had been taking care of him since his injury or said that because it had been a while. “Y-Yeah! I will, I’m coming.”

He waved at his friends as you tugged him out, throwing away the napkin that previously held your ice cream cone away. “I mean it,” you said abruptly, smiling over as you held his hand. “I would fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to talk.”

“W-Would you?” Dave finally speaks, looking over at you as you smiled.

“Hell yeah I would.”

Later that night, Mindy stared at him as he fixed his mask. “This isn’t a good idea, Dave."

In all seriousness, he really thought she would fight him to make him stay. What he was doing was stupid, but he was about to get laid. By you. The most beautiful girl in the world.

"This," he grinned back at her. "Is an amazing idea. I'm going to get laid so fucking hard."

"What if she wants to take off your mask?"

"She won't."

"What if she recognizes your voice?"

He paused, then smiled. "When I'm nervous, my voice gets higher. She won't recognize it. I'll see you later!"

He ran out, quickly going to your home. How was he going to get in? Would he sneak in through the window you always had unlocked that was right next to your dresser? Or would he throw rocks at your window, begging for you to let him up so you could fuck him?

He started to panic, how the hell would he sneak into your house?

In nervousness, he paced in the back alleyway behind your house before his phone buzzed, your name blaring on the screen.

Y/N 8:57PM come in through the window ;)

It made him pause before he looked at your window, gasping as you stared at him with your body lit in light of your bedside lamp. He could see your bright smile as you gave him a small wave, a gulp echoing through the alley as you opened up the window a bit and leave it open with a hairbrush.

He inhaled deeply as he slowly jumped over the fence, climbing up the tree that led up to the window, easily slipping through after pushing it up before carefully pushing it down. He gasped as he looked back, staring at his reflection through the mirror from where you sat in front of your vanity.

"It's slightly... perverted to sneak into a woman's house, right?" Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into your face like he had seen you do in the nights he slept over. "Dave knows that, but I'm assuming Kick-Ass doesn't."

Dave cleared his throat, pushing his hands to cover the front of his suit, specifically over his crotch. He loved it when you said his name. "I-I uhm... you know Dave as well? I know Dave too."

He watched as you giggled. "I do know Dave, very well. But something's telling me you know him a little better than I do."

He swallowed, humming before making his voice deeper. “I-I’ve known Dave a long time… Y/N.”

“Have you now?” You stood, slowly walking over and swaying your beautiful hips before you stood in front of him. “How long?”

“M-My whole life.”

You giggled as he slowly stepped forward to meet you in the middle, your fingers trailing down his chest as you pressed firm kisses wherever your fingers went and you slowly got down on your knees, your skimpy lingerie-like pajamas. "Did Dave ever tell you what I want to do to you, Kick-Ass? Hm?"

He whimpers, his false persona of confidence never even giving the chance to rise as you kissed over the bulge that he tried to hide. "H-He did... oh fuck, he did."

"Oh, well he didn't have to tell you, right? You knew it because you are Dave, right?" You licked over the material of his suit.

His head lulled back as he nodded, groaning. "R-Right, fucking hell, please! Please, please don't stop."

You scoffed as you stood, pressing your finger to his chest. "I knew it! I knew it, you bastard, why would you keep that from me?! Did you like me gushing over your alter ego?!"

He gasped as you shoved him, a groan falling from your lips. "What? No! No, of course not!"

"For fuck's sake, Dave! What, you're such a virgin that you loved the thought of some girl talking about her fantasies with your alter ego?! Fuck you!" You groaned as you sat on your bed, covering your face to hold back your smile. This had to work.

"No! No, of course not, of course not! I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he whined as he kneeled in front of you, holding your knees. "Please, you have to understand..." He takes off his mask, whimpering as he stared up at you. "I did it to keep you safe. I didn't... I don't want you to be a target."

You inhale deeply as you pulled your hands away from your face, glaring down at him. "You promise?"

"I promise."

He inhaled deeply as you squeezed his face, raising a brow. "Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me?"

He paused, clearing his throat as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Wh-Whatever you want me to," he whispers, swallowing loudly. "Whatever you want me to do."

Oh, you knew it would work.

Maybe that's how Dave got here, laying on his back as he sobbed underneath your touch, the vibrating cock ring settled right at his base and your tongue licking at his tip, lapping and sucking teasingly. You giggled as he squirmed underneath your touch, your hand pumping him slowly. "I don't know if you've done enough to cum, Dave. I don't think... you've made it up to me."

He whined, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. "No, no please! I'll do anything you want, just please! I need- I need to cum inside of you."

You hummed teasingly, pursing your lips. "Inside of me? You want to ask that much of me? Do you think that you've done enough to get the pleasure of cumming inside of me?"

"Yes!" He whined loudly, groaning. "Yes! Yes, I'll make you feel good, I promise!"

You hummed, pumping him even harder. "No... I don't think you can. A virgin like you? Please."

"I promise! I promise I will, I promise." He whimpered, his hips bucking into the air.

He probably could, to be honest. His cock was bigger than you could ever imagine, his girth barely able to fit into your mouth without making your jaw ache and could barely go down your throat without choking. He had the prettiest dick you'd ever seen, definitely the biggest and girthiest too, just because the last few guys you saw were fucking assholes.

"Maybe I will let you cum inside of me," you mused, humming as you sucked on his tip to make loud popping sound echo across the room. "Maybe, if I'm feeling... nice."

He whined, nodding desperately. "Fuck, please! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Where do you want to cum inside of me, baby? Dave knows I'm on birth control, but does Kick-Ass?" You giggle, rubbing his thighs as you gagged on his cock.

"C-Can I cum i-in your... in your-?"

"You can't even say it, can you?" You giggled as you switched the ring into the highest power, humming. "You want to cum... inside of me, right? That narrows things down a little bit... you want to cum inside my mouth? Or... my ass, that's going to take a minute though. Maybe my pussy? Hm? It's already stretched out for you, Dave. Inside my pussy, inside of my cunt?"

"Y-Your cunt! I want... I want to cum inside of your cunt."

You giggled. "Just don't cum as soon as I take this ring off, alright?"

He let out a loud whimper, nodding as you slowly slip it off, putting it into your mouth to suck loudly, groaning as his taste filled your mouth. He groaned as you take it from your mouth, straddling his hips and holding his cock up. You could feel your eyes roll back, humming as he whimpered. "I-I'm close, I'm so close!"

You giggled as you sunk down onto him, yelling out as he screamed out, groaning with a strong buck of his hips to bottom out inside of you and his cum filling up your stomach. You gasped loudly, whimpering as you held onto his chest, your nails digging into his skin. "H-How are you still cumming?!"

"I-I can't stop," he groaned flipping you over to hold your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, thrusting his hips. Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as the loud slaps of skin against skin filled your room. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Better than I could ever imagine, fuck!"

You whined as your nails dug into his back, Dave pulling away for just a second with a grin. "Who's fucking who's brains out now?"

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© asterias-record-shop

#asterias-record-shop #with love asteria ♡ #kick-ass #kick ass #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x fem! reader #dave lizewski x fem! reader smut

[hysteria-things]

can you do a sub matt smut?

ICE COLD POOL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt is your best friend. you and his brothers decide to take a dip in the pool, but you in a bathing suit makes him a little too excited.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, making out, semi-public, oral (male receiving)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 773

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this song kinda has something to do with this fic but also doesn’t?? idc i love wallows more than life🫶

the pool water felt cold on your skin, but for a hot summer day like right now, it was perfect.

you’ve known the sturniolo’s for a while now, and over the years you guys have become much closer. the four of you are currently at the steep end of the pool chatting and drinking some sodas.

nothing too fancy, but it’s always nice to have a get-together from time to time. you’re standing next to matt while chris and nick are across from you.

matt couldn’t help but check you out a few times as the hang-out went on. you’re wearing a red bikini. nothing too revealing, but matt finds it attractive nonetheless. maybe a little too attractive; because he can’t stop shifting in his spot.

“i’m going to head inside for a few but i’ll be back.” nick announces to the group, getting out of the pool by hoisting himself up on the ledge. “need to check something on the vlog camera.”

“okay.” you smile as your friend walks away.

chris clears his throat. “i need to piss.” that’s all he says while following nick’s actions.

“you’ve been quiet.” you start, turning your head to matt who’s staring into space. “everything okay?”

“yup.” he smiles nervously, shifting his body like what he’s been doing. you tilt your head, unamused with matt’s lie. you scan down his body until you get to his swim trunks. it’s hard to see because of the water’s ripples, but there’s a visible tent on the blue fabric. “matt—”

“i’m sorry.” he panics. he starts walking to the stairs, but you grab his wrist to stop him. “matt,” you repeat.

his eyes look at your lips for a beat. you cup his neck and pull him into a kiss. he doesn’t kiss back right away since this was so sudden, but he soon gets into it.

he grabs your hips to pull you closer. you smirk when you feel his boner brush against your legs. you guys don’t know when nick and chris will be back, but it has to be soon.

matt’s breathing starts to quicken as his dick twitches. he moans into your mouth, pulling away abruptly. his face is pale from embarrassment.

he just came in his shorts.

“i-i’m sorry.” he stammers. “i need to use the bathroom.”

he starts going up the steps but you stop him once more. your body is still in the pool while he is now sitting on the ledge.

despite the water making his swimsuit wet, you can still see the stain and his still-hard boner. “looks like it hurts.” you tease.

he stares into your eyes as he frowns. you keep eye contact when you start to untie his shorts, pulling them down just to his thighs. he hisses when his swollen cock finally springs free. he’s been hard for way too long.

you flatten your tongue at his tip. he flinches at the contact, but eases when you start to move your tongue in kitty-licking motions. he moans and grips so hard to the concrete next to him that his knuckles turn white.

you start to lick faster, but you stay at his tip. he doesn’t look away from your eyes until something clicks in his head. he looks around in panic, nervous that his brothers will be back any second.

“stop looking at me like that,” he whines.

you know he can cum from just you staring and toying with his tip because of how sensitive he is. you then start to kiss and suck on him.

matt bites his lip and throws his head back, whimpering as his hips buck up a little.

even though he’s not staring at you, you never take your eyes off of his gorgeous face. “please.” he gasps. “i need to cum.”

you continue what you’re doing, more moans and whines leaving matt’s mouth when one last buck of the hips has him cumming on your lips. “shit.” he pants.

you kiss up his chest until you get to his lips so he can taste himself. he moans at the feeling. “chris got distracted. sorry guys.” nick’s voice echoes from the back door. matt quickly pulls up his swimsuit and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

his brothers get back into the pool and luckily they don’t suspect a thing. nick starts ranting about god knows what, but matt keeps staring at you.

he wants to say something, knowing he can’t. all you do is smile seductively and wink, and matt’s cheeks can’t help but turn a maroon.

he wishes his brothers never came back outside.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #hurt/comfort fic #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #theleggymeggy fics #fluffy #heavy angst #I write so much sadness I swear im okay #thank you for requesting!

[bonchobrick]

Dead on Main au where Jason is of course Danny’s Fright Knight and like all knights do he has a weapon—except it’s his gun.

The batfam + justice league + everyone (except ghosts duh) don’t know that his normal average everyday gun is actually like a super powerful spiritual soul shooter that is, yaknow, capable of blasting someone into an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real.

So imagine there’s like a big battle where a ghastly ghoul reigns terror on Gotham. The world sends their best hero’s—wizards and occultists are notably high highest in demand—to stop the ghost but, nothing works. All of the weapons and spells and chants fail.

But,

As the fights worsens and the heros scream for people to flee suddenly--

Loud squeaking footsteps echo across the ground. Jason yawns strolling into the battle zone in a ghostbusters t-shirt plaid pants bunny slippers--he strolls up in pajamas--as if annoyed at being woken up and cocks his fucking normal 'i could buy you at walmart' gun at the ghost.

His brothers screech at him yelling ”Are you insane” and to "get the hell out of here" in fear and panic because their idiot brother is trying to kill a real life ghost with a damn gun.

But then Jason shoots the ghost and it works.

The ghost fizzles down with a cry into just a little blob.

The young man then spends 30 minutes lecturing the spirit saying things like “you’re glad I’m not calling the big guy” and “you know our highness would not be happy learning what you’ve been doing” before taking out a thermos of all things and sucking the ghost into it.

Jason then sighs and walks away as if he hadn’t just defeated a hell raising ghost with a gun people can buy off a corner pawn store and a soup container.

Immediately the bat family swarms him with questions

Dick grabs him by his shoulders tense with worry, “Are you okay?”

“Um yeah—“ Jason tries to reply squirming in his hold

Damian cuts him off, “How the hell did your gun a physical weapon hurt that ghastly demonic spirit!”

“Uh that ghost is actually pretty chill you guys just pissed him off." Jason replies plain

They stare at him with a look saying 'you did not call a ghost that has been decimating gotham chill' probably because he did just that.

Tim is the first to break out of the disbelief stupor as he very inteligently says, "What?"

Jason responds easily with a confused quirk in his brow, "Second, my gun affects entities of all sorts, perks to my job and all that."

"How did being a vigilante and also probably crime boss give you a gun that could do that?" Dick asks

Jason sends him a look saying "are you an idiot" as he replies, "Yea, sure, kicking petty thieves and druggies got me my all powerful spirit weapon--No you dumbass, it's from being the bodyguard of the King of the Infinite Realms! How the hell did you guys not think of that!”

Tim breathes in, then breathes out, then breathes in again and screams, "Why the HELL WOULD WE THINK OF THAT JAY?!"

"The--" Batman, suddenly beside them, chokes, "Bodyguard of T-the what."

Jason blinks at his family then his eyes widen, "Oh shit."

"What?!" His family screech in panic

"Oh fuck," Jason says with a growing hysteric smile, "Danny's gonna have a big ol' fucking laugh with this."

"Brother who is Danny!" Damian demands for an answer

Jason coughs into his palm, "Oh yeah you guys really dont dont know. So I may have forgotten to explain some... things."

Bruce levels him with a stare that says "you think?"

Jason chuckles nervously, "So y'know how I'm half dead?"

pause

Damian very eloquently responds for the suddenly dying screaming combusting members of his family, "...sure."

"Well I met the King of the afterlife which is like the Ruler of Everything and he was really cute--" Jason says distant in his own world

"Theres a afterlife?" Superman asks casually appearing beside the emotionally wrecked family

"Yea its pretty cool. So I start flirting a bit with the guy and we hit it off, I now im his zombie ghost knight boyfriend lover for all time. Oh and i got this sickass gun." Jason says with a happy grin

"That is a pretty sick gun." John Constantine nods

"I know right?" Jason chirps

"You wouldn't mind if I inspected--" John reaches his hand

Jason slaps it away, "Not a chance you soul whore. Y'know your basically the tax evasionist of the Ghost Zone right?"

John only sighs and leaves

"But yea so I'm like the ghost world equivalent to married with the king and became his knight and thats how I was able to stop that ghost guy." Jason reiterates as if explaining a simple question, "Y'guys get that?"

Tim is on the ground trying to decide whether; sobbing hysterically, interogating jason to find out all the things he doesn't want to know or sleeping would be a better use of his time.

Dick has decided to blame himself and has started to draft a reddit post in the middle of the street starting with "I (23 m) have a younger brother (19 m), who I used to resent but really regret now, he died and came back and doesn't even tell me about what goes on in his life anymore. How do I fix our--"

Damian is just staring at the gun and... Jason pushes it deeper in his holster and shifts to the side, better to be safe than sorry with this thieving shit.

As Jason adjusts his weaponry he hears Bruce sob in the background, "He didn't even invite me to the wedding! Am I that horrible of a father!"

Wonder Woman pats his shoulder reasuringly whilst the rest of the League seem to be trying to calm him down

Jason looks around tiredly at the mess he had created and decides fuck it

"Alright I'm heading out for the night, you guys get home safe!" He yells and without caring to listen to anyone and everyone voicing their confusion he zips open a green portal and stumbles in

He crashes down on an unbelievably comfortable bed

Danny blinks blearily before sending the young man a sleepy smile, "Hey Jay, what kept you up so long?"

Jason slipping under the blankets with a yawn says, "You would not believe the night I just had."

------------------

Edit: UMM HII The fic is out now here!! you guys are awesome I'll post the new chapter 2 in a hot sec after editting ^^

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #jason todd #jason peter todd #danny phantom #danny fenton #dead on main #i love me a good ‘HUH????’ fic #damian is the true spokesperson for what were all thinking and im tired of acting like hes rude #should i continue? #maybe write a fic? #idk #oh who am i kidding ill probs post this to ao3 #this was jus gonna b an idea draft but it got out of hand #oh wells #batman #batfam #jason x danny #yaaaay #fanfiction #sorry abt grammar im sleepy :( #i wrote most of this on my phone which maid me wanna slam it into my celiing but whateves #danny is soooo cutie pie adorbs #but also raaaah im sppoky yknow? #ohkay im tired gn party ppl #there r so many tags... #veerliwrites

[pathologicalreid]

occupational hazard | S.R.

You and Spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: plot discussions from 9x23 (angels) and 9x24 (demons), canon compliant injuries, crying, established relationship word count: 1.23k a/n: thought of this while i couldn't sleep after watching the season 9 finale. also its me. I'm the crier.

Your mother always said you had a problem with staring. In the grocery store as a kid, she would pull you to the side and tell you that you were being rude. It always confused you because you didn’t think it was possible to be rude without speaking.

Spencer never seemed to mind your staring, he’d ask if everything was alright, but he never really asked you to stop or told you off.

So, while he was over at your apartment, sitting on the couch grading papers, you just stared at him. You studied how his hair fell in front of his face as he scrawled on the printed paper, and how he set his jaw when he noticed a mistake. Your brows furrowed when you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck, a confused noise escaped your throat.

That got his attention, “What’s wrong?” He asked, matching your furrowed brows before setting his pen down.

Cocking your head curiously, you leaned forward to try to look at his neck, “What is that?” You whispered. It was an old scar, so you could only really notice it when the light hit it just right.

“What is what?” He asked, looking behind him and on his shirt like he was looking for a spill.

Gently, you reached out your hand and touched the scar with your fingertips. “Where did you get this scar?” You couldn’t believe you had never noticed it before – the two of you had been dating for more than half a year.

He reached up his hand and met yours, intertwining your hands together, “On a case in Texas.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked at the scar again. “How did you get that scar on a case in Texas?” You asked, even though you were fairly certain you knew the answer.

Turning, Spencer set all of the papers on the side table before he turned back to face you. “I was shot in the neck,” he answered almost a little too calmly. As if it was just another day in the office, and maybe it was to him.

It certainly wasn’t to you. “What do you mean you got shot in the neck?” You asked, your voice was high and reedy with panic. Fear settled in your chest on behalf of a version of your boyfriend you didn’t even know.

“Hey, hey,” he said in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m okay, this happened almost five years ago, love. I’m fine,” he said, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands.

Your eyes were still wide, like deer in the headlights wide, and you nodded despite yourself. “That’s so scary, Spence,” you whispered as emotion burned in your throat. You knew he worked for the FBI and had for a long time. You knew he had been in love with a girl who was killed in front of him – that’s why he was so protective sometimes. You knew he had been in prison for three months for a crime he didn’t commit – that’s why he taught classes for thirty days. This was the first thing you had figured out – you had told him to tell you everything in his own time.

For a moment, he watched you like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure where to start.

You sat on your heels and retracted your hands from his neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry I just… I saw the scar.” Awkwardly settling your hands in your lap, you sighed. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.”

“Wait, what just happened?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

Shrugging, you settled into the couch cushions. “I just saw the scar and I was curious,” you whispered as your eyes burned. “I didn’t… I just mean you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Reaching into your lap, Spencer took one of your hands in his, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You can always ask, it’s a fact that my job is dangerous,” he told you softly. “Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. It was never my intention to make you feel like you can’t ask me questions about… Why are you crying?”

You wiped furiously under your eyes at the tears that had flooded your eyes, “because you got shot.”

“You’re crying because I was shot five years ago?” He asked in bewilderment, his tone wasn’t belittling, he was genuinely surprised at your reasoning.

Nodding, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to stop your tears. “I am a crier; I cry at everything. Please don’t read into this,” you pleaded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Gently, Spencer pried your hands away from your face, “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, and I don’t know what to do.”

You shook your head, and your bleary eyes met his, “Really, Spence, I’m fine. I’m just a crier, okay? Sad, happy, mad, I cry.” You looked up at the ceiling light and sniffled, fanning your face in an attempt to dry it off.

He was staring at you, “You are quite possibly the sweetest human being I have ever met.” Spencer reached out and pulled you to him, “Look at me.”

Begrudgingly, you looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?”

“I’m not answering that until you stop crying,” he said, sweeping your hair behind your ears.

That answer did absolutely nothing to comfort you. Huffing, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’m just crying.”

Spencer smiled at you, “That is an oxymoron, and you know it.” His smile faded, “I’ve been shot three times.”

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you said, dropping your head to his shoulder.

He hummed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “Once in the knee, once in the arm, and once in the neck. Please don’t cry.”

You nodded into him, “Yeah, you’re… you’re okay now, right?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” He asked softly, running his hands along your back.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you,” you whispered.

His movements falter for just a moment, “I love you too.”

Pulling away and wiping your eyes, “You should finish grading those papers,” you whispered to him, moving away.

Instead of letting you go, Spencer pulled you closer, “I’ll finish tomorrow. I want to be here with you now,” he responded softly. “Are we okay?”

“Your job scares me,” you answered candidly, “but we’re good. We’re great.”

He nodded self-assuredly, “I can’t change the job, but you could meet my team if you wanted to. Maybe meeting them would make you more comfortable with me going out into the field,” he offered. “And maybe I could…” his voice trailed off as he mumbled something else.

Tilting your head curiously, you hummed in an attempt to prod at him, “Maybe you could what?”

“I could make you my emergency contact. If that’s something you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’ve never really had anyone to add, but I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind.”

You smiled softly at him, grateful for every bit he let you in, “I would be honored. Just don’t have any emergencies.”

please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

[justauthoring]

change in perspective.

you never thought jamie tartt could be anything but a prick.

a/n: i have no explanation for this other than i just finished ted lasso (fashionably late as always) and this man makes me giggle like a little school girl :) (this is also not spellchecked! i'll do it later ;))

pairing: jamie tart x f!assistant coach!reader

“Does someone want to explain to me just what exactly Jamie Tartt is doing out on the field?”

All three coaches turn to you at the sound of your voice, but it’s Ted’s eyes that light up the second he registers your presence. A smile curls onto his lips as he turns to face you, posture nonchalant with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Ah! Well, if it isn’t my favourite assistant coach, Y/N! I was worried something had happened.”

Blinking back at Ted, you simply cross your arms over your chest. “What is Jamie doing out on the field?”

Ted lets out a laugh but it comes across more as a grimace as he rubs the back of his neck, turning his head to glance at Nate and then Beard. 

It’s Beard who explains. 

“Ted invited him back to the team.”

The water bottle you’d been holding in your hands promptly falls to the ground with a thud as your lips part, mouth left wide open, staring blank faced at Ted who continues to laugh somewhat uncomfortably.

“What?”

Beard raises his hands as if to gesture that he is an innocent party in your accusation all whilst you shift your shocked expression to a glare at Ted.

“Well, you know… I–I just thought that, well… he’s a good player, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you huff; “regrettably so.” Because even you weren’t bitter enough to not admit that Jamie was a great football player. Fantastic really. But–But he was an absolute prick who you’d thought you’d never have to work with ever again.

“And this team needs a little something to spice us up, yeah?” Ted, in Ted style, does a little dance (that’s meant to make you laugh) to add to the effect of his words.

“No,” you say blankly, before Ted raises a brow at you. Sighing, your shoulders fall. “Yeah.”

Offering you a smile, Ted rests his hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Give him a chance, okay?” He asks, his eyes pleading as he nods down at you. “I think he really means to make up for it all.”

You seriously doubt that. But, you don’t voice that opinion.

“Fine,” you surrender, dropping your hands to your side. “But I’m allowed to laugh at him when this team kicks his arse. Which they will because he deserved it.”

Ted snorts at that, “don’t worry, Nate’s already got you beat on that front.”

Your eyes shift to said man, and he’s sending you a wide grin and a thumbs up in a way that makes you chuckle despite how truly unhappy you were with Jamie only a few feet away from you, on your team.

-

The only thing that had made practice somewhat bearable was seeing Jamie repeatedly knocked on his ass.

And then mocked by the rest of the team.

Truly, it brought a smile to your face.

You’re still laughing to yourself about it as you finish packing up your stuff in the office you shared with Nate. Him, Ted, Beard and pretty much most of the team were already gone or on their way out the door, but you usually elected to stay a little longer than everyone else trying to come up with new gaming strategies, plays and honestly, team bonding exercises since you found it incredibly important that the team genuinely care for one another if they were going to play on a team together.

You’re just sliding your laptop into your bag when a knock pulls you from your musings.

“Oh, Sam, just give me–”

Except, it isn’t Sam when you finally glance up. It’s Jamie.

You’re leaping to your feet before you can stop yourself, a surge of panic running through your body as your wide eyes meet his. He’s blinking back at you, as if as shocked by your reaction as you were, and before you know it you’re glancing around, half expecting Ted or Beard to be there because why else would Jamie be here?

But neither of them are there, of course, they’d left twenty minutes ago.

“Coach Lasso and Beard have already left,” you explain before he can say anything. “You’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow to talk to–”

Shaking his head, Jamie takes a step towards you. “I wasn’ lookin’ for them. I, uh… was lookin’ for you actually.”

You blink. Once, twice, before your brows furrow. “What?”

He steps towards you again, fully stepping into your office as he scratches at his face absentmindedly, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt. He glances around for a moment before his gaze focuses back on you, and the serious expression on his face is one you’re not used to or know how to react to so you continue to stare blankly at him.

“I wanted to, em, apologize, I guess? Actually, no, not I guess. I am sorry. And I want to apologize for how I treated ya in the past. You know, for all the shitty things I said and did.”

You must be dreaming.

Surely, you’re dreaming.

There’s no way that the Jamie Tartt, famed football star and resident asshole, is apologizing to you. Some random female assistant coach on a team he’d once laughed at for existing? Yeah. Not possible.

But… it’s either that or he’s taking the piss out of you.

Whatever it is, the shock fades in seconds and is quickly replaced by an indescribable amount of anger. 

Because, honestly? Screw him. Screw him for thinking he could walk in here, say sorry and it’d all be okay. After all that he did.

“You’re sorry?” You ask, pointing at him.

He nods, slowly. 

“That’s funny,” is what you end up saying, letting out a snort as he blinks at you in surprise. “You sure didn’t seem sorry all those times you laughed at me when I tried to coach you. What was it you used to say?” You quirk a brow at him as his face falls, the hopeful glint that you’d accept his apology fading from his eyes as you laugh at him. “Oh, that’s right! That I wasn’t meant to be a coach because I’m a woman and rather, I should just look pretty and help make you look good. And if it wasn’t you belittling me for my job, it was you trying to get in my pants and then laughing about it as if that’s some sort of joke.”

You finish your rant with a huff, shoulders rising and falling heavily as Jamie continues to stare back at you.

You hadn’t really realized how much his comments had truly hurt until that moment. Or, rather, you’d pushed them down so far to the back of your mind that it had been bubbling up until this very moment where he tries to apologize offhandedly like that was going to somehow make things better.

“I may have only known you for a little bit before you left us for Manchester, Jamie,” you add, voice considerably calmer as you frown at him. “But you sure left an impression. And one little apology is not gonna make up for the amount of times I went home crying and feeling worthless, because of you.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything. His lips part like he means to you, but he ends up just gaping at you like a goldfish, looking rather stupid, before there’s a light knock on the door and you’re pulled from your thoughts only to find Sam poking his head into the office. He looks concerned, eyeing Jamie out of the corner of his eye with a certain edge, before turning to you.

Biting your lip, you blink, hating the way your vision blurs and quickly you wipe at your face before any tears can fall.

You refused to cry in front of Jamie.

“Just a second, Sam,” you call, offering him a small, somewhat forced smile. You turn to your desk, grabbing your bag and doing a quick survey to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything before promptly pushing your way past Jamie and slipping past Sam. He sets a hand on your back to guide you forward, blocking you from Jamie’s view and you don’t see it, but just before Sam turns to walk away himself, he’s sending Jamie a rather nasty glare.

The message is clear; leave her alone.

-

The next morning there’s a vase of flowers sitting on your desk.

Nate is eyeing them when you walk in, before he blinks at the sight of you and quickly turns away as if afraid you caught him staring. You just blink at him, before looking at the flowers once more.

Poking your head out to the main office, you gesture over your shoulder; “where’d the flowers come from?”

Beard raises his hands in a silent gesture that they’re not from him, before your gaze falls to Ted.

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugs. “You’d know if I got you flowers,” he winks with a light chuckle and rolling your eyes as you make your way to your desk. There’s a card in front of the vase and as you take a seat, you take the card, flipping it open.

All that’s written on it is the name of the flowers; Lily of the Valley.

Frowning, you let your eyes wander across the white flowers, leaning forward to smell them and letting your eyes fall shut at the sweet scent. 

Only thing is, who sent them?

Leaning back on your chair, you peek into the locker room, trying to see who of the players is there. There’s not too many. There’s Sam, but you walked in with him so you know it’s not him, also he most likely would’ve just given them to you if he was going to get you a bouquet of flowers. Isaac’s there, but you doubt he’d give them to you. Richard and Dani are there, but they're much too forward to try and secretly give you flowers.

And then your eyes fall on Jamie. He’s already looking at you, but he’s quick to glance away the second your eyes fall on him, his cheeks turning a bit red.

Your brows furrow.

It couldn’t–

“Apparently, Lily of the Valley symbolizes apology. Specifically when one doesn’t know how to apologize.” Nate explains, reading off of his phone, the card from your desk in his other hand, before he glances at you with a curious smile. “I wonder who wanted to apologize to you?”

You glance at Nate, before the flowers, before peeking back at Jamie who’s tying the laces of his boots, pointedly not glancing up.

Moving back towards your desk, you stare at the flowers a moment longer.

What the actual hell.

-

“Oh, just–”

Before you can properly register the voice, a blur of blue is suddenly in front of you, opening the door you’d been about to open yourself before your hand can even reach for the handle.

Slowly your eyes flicker upwards to fall on Jamie as he stands beside you, holding the door wide open, a rather proud smile plastered onto his face.

“There ya go,” he offers, head tilting towards the door. “Ladies first.”

Quirking a brow, you nod at Jamie slowly, stepping through the door while you try to fight the smile that threatens to curl onto your lips.

“Smooth, Tartt,” you offer over your shoulder.

He grins back at you, nodding at you.

You can’t help the laugh, however, when instead of stepping through the door like you expected (assuming he’d only done it cause he needed something from here in the first place), he lets the door shut with a goofy wave, leaving you alone in the room.

Pausing, you shake your head.

That was new.

-

“And you, Coach?”

It takes you half a second to realize Jamie is talking to you and you only really realize it because Ted, Beard and Nate are all looking at you, waiting.

Blinking, you swallow thickly, eyes falling back on the team only to see they’re all staring at you as well, also waiting. Your eyes fall on Jamie and he’s smiling at you, happy and all teeth as he rocks on his feet, patiently waiting for you to say anything you might or might not have to say.

It’s not like the rest of the team hadn’t ever asked you for your opinion or if you had any pointers. And of course Ted made sure to consistently ask for your suggestions, wanting to make sure you felt your voice was heard and included.

As the only female coach for a male’s football team, you’d managed to find yourself an incredible group of boys who listened to you despite your gender and actively made sure to try out anything you suggested.

But never had you ever had all their attention like you do in that moment. All of them just standing there, solely focused on you.

And that was because of Jamie.

Biting your lip, you shuffle on your feet. “Oh, well… I–”

But your voice is shaky and you’re not sure how to say what you want, but as your eyes flicker back over to Jamie he’s still grinning at you, smile never wavering and he’s sending you a thumbs up.

As if to say; you got this.

And then the words just seem to pour from your lips after that.

-

The addition of Roy Kent to the line up of coaches is both positive and negative.

And really, it isn’t negative for anyone but yourself. Not that having Roy on the team was negative, just, well… It was already hard enough being the only women assistant coach with two other men, but now you were competing with three men and Roy was nothing if not an intimidating and commandeering addition to the team.

His desk had been squished in between yours and Nate’s and while the man was lovely, if not a little aggressive, by the end of his first day you found yourself drained and feeling like a fool. Roy wasn’t just another man, but he was a previous football star himself; he had the on field experience to back up his suggestions and he knew what he was talking about so that when he did say something, no one really batted an eye to his suggestions.

Or, at least, questioned them.

Worst part was you liked Roy. Sure he swore a lot, and sometimes he’d grunt instead of replying to you but before he’d had to leave the team, he’d always listened to your suggestions with an open mind and never made you or the suggestions feel less just because it was a woman saying them. He was an absolute sweetheart underneath all of the gruff, and you knew him outside of work quite well as well because he was dating Keeley.

So, with the jealousy that you couldn’t help but have, you also felt extremely guilty. 

“Are… Are you alrigh’?”

Gasping, you sit up at the voice, panicked eyes glancing around until you settle on Jamie.

“Jesus, Tartt,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your chest as you shake your head. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” he offers with a light laugh. “I didn’ mean to.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, letting yourself relax once more as you slump against the wall behind you, pulling your knees closer to yourself. “I just thought I was alone. Didn’t think anyone would come wandering in here.”

Jamie steps into the room at that, letting the door shut behind him as he nods. “Saw you come in ‘ere,” he explains, taking a seat across from you. “Wanted to make sure you were alrigh’”

Shaking your head, you brush him off; “I'm fine.”

“You, um… you sure?”

Turning to Jamie, he’s staring back at you in a way that tells you he doesn’t believe you. He’s got a concerned look in his eyes and he’s fidgeting with his fingers, his knee rocking nervously as he tries to find the words to say.

Sighing, you shake your head; “it’s stupid.”

“Not when it comes to ya.”

Blinking, you turn to Jamie, lips parted in surprise. Except, he doesn’t seem shocked by what he said or embarrassed. He continues to stare back at you with that concerned look in his gaze, patiently waiting for you to explain what’s going on.

“It’s just… It’s hard,” you start, struggling to find the words. How do you explain to him, not only a man but the same man that used to belittle you for the exact same thing you’re feeling self conscious about, that you feel like you’re being tested in your own job everyday just because you’re a woman? You weren’t sure he’d understand. And honestly, although you’ve seen the changes in him and regrettably started to believe them, you weren’t positive he wouldn’t just laugh at you for it anyways.

And yet, you continue to speak.

“Being what I am at my job,” you add, eyeing him carefully.

Jamie frowns. “Being a woman?”

Inhaling sharply, you nod; “yeah. I know Ted and the rest of the guys would never belittle me or make me feel less because I am, but… It’s just hard being the only woman coach for a team of men. Even if you guys don’t mean to, and I know you don’t, you all naturally gravitate towards Ted and the guys more than you do me.”

Lips parting, Jamie stares back at you.

Avoiding his gaze, you glance down at your lap. “Makes me doubt myself sometimes.”

“Oh.”

Nodding, you pull at a thread on your pants. “Yeah. Oh.”

Silence follows and you feel ten times more uncomfortable as the seconds pass. You can still feel Jamie’s gaze on you, watching, waiting, maybe trying to find something to say, and it’s making you feel more and more embarrassed as time goes. 

Shaking your head, you suddenly move to a stand.

“Anyways, it’s late so you should–”

“I think yer an amazing coach.”

Lips left parted, you turn, only to find Jamie suddenly standing in front of you.

“You make great strategy plays, you are undeniably smart about the terminology and nobody cares about the wellbeing of the team more than you,” he continues, his gaze never once faltering. “You cheer us on and never ever make us feel like we’re doing something wrong or stupid for askin’ for help. I know it feels like we listen to the guys more, but every single one of us leans on your advice heavily and we’d be lost without yer support and guidance.”

Eyes widening, you don’t realize it until you blink that you’re crying.

Your hand falls to your cheek, feeling wetness.

“Shit,” Jamie curses and your eyes fall back on him. “I didn’t mean to make ya cry, I just–”

Your arms wound around him before he can finish, pulling him flush against you as you press your head into the crook of his neck. Jamie freezes at the touch, body tensing but just for a second before he eases, his own arms coming around to wrap around you in return.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, “I… Thank you so much.”

“O-Of course,” he murmurs, voice low and you can feel his chest rumble against your cheek. “I just… thought ya should know.”

Biting your lip, you pull back at that, quickly wiping the tears off your cheeks as you step away from him. Jamie lets you go with ease, both of your cheeks red, yours burning when you realize you’d not only just flung yourself at him but you’d gotten his shirt wet with your tears.

“I.. I’m sorry,” you whisper, gesturing to his chest. “I didn’t mean to cry on you.”

Jamie shrugs; “no worries, love.”

Meeting his eyes, the two of you stare at each other for a moment, before you’re quickly stepping past him. “Anyways, I should… I should go.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Me… Me too.”

Reaching for the door, you glance back at him; “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Nodding, Jamie grins down at you; “see you tomorrow.”

-

“We’ve got a problem.”

Both Keeley and Rebecca turn to you at your words, whatever they’d been saying promptly getting cut off the second they see the panic on your face.

Rushing you inside, they settle on either side of you on Rebecca’s couch in her office, Keeley’s arm wrapped around your waist and Rebecca offering you a cup of tea as they turn to you with concerned eyes.

“Okay, lay it out,” Rebecca says, “what’s wrong and who do I have to fire?”

Letting out a light laugh, you shake your head. “You don’t have to fire anyone.”

“Good,” she nods, “because I didn’t want to fire anyone.”

Rolling your eyes teasingly, you take a sip of your tea before reaching forward to set it on the table.

“Okay, then, babes,” Keeley speaks up, frowning at you, “then what’s the matter? You came in here looking like something horrible’s happened.”

Letting out a groan, you press your hands to your face; “that’s because something horrible has happened.”

“What?” Keeley presses, squeezing your arm.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitate a moment, eyeing the both of them, before you whisper in shame; “I think I fancy Jamie.”

There’s a beat of silence, before;

“Like Tartt?” Keeley asks, eyes widening in absolute surprise. “Jamie Tartt? Our Jamie Tartt?”

“Like on my team Richmond, Jamie Tartt?” Rebecca adds, pointing at herself before gesturing to her office.

Cheeks burning, you hide your face in your hands again. “Yes.”

Keeley and Rebecca eye each other for a moment, before Rebecca’s pulling your hands away from your face.

“Y/N.”

You just shake your head, trying to grab a pillow to further hide yourself.

“Babes, stop,” Keeley laughs lightly. “Explain to us why you fancy Jamie.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca encourages. “It’s alright.”

Hands falling to your lap with a huff, you frown. “It’s all his fault,” you whine. “Because he’s trying to be better now and I can’t handle that. Before, you know, when he was a prick, that’s just it! He was a prick. And I’m sorry Keeley for saying this but I always found him a little attractive.”

Snorting, Keeley shakes his head; “babes, why do you think I dated him?”

Biting your lip, you sigh. “But he was awful, right?” She nods and Rebecca snorts, clearly feeling that’s an understatement. “And when he came back, I was so mad. Mad because he was so mean and laughed at me and belittled me for being a woman, and not to mention he was terrible to the whole team. Like when he used to bully Nate or hog the ball and never give Sam a chance to show his skill.”

They both nod to your words.

“So I was upset. Upset because he was back and because Ted didn’t tell me or ask me how I felt. And I said to myself that this whole apology thing was just an act and he’d go right back to being his old self in a few days. I was proud of myself too because when he tried to apologize, I didn’t let him.” Keeley squeezes your arm at that and Rebecca smiles proudly. “But then the next day I came in and he bought my flowers!”

Their eyes widen.

“He did?”

“Yeah,” you nod at Keeley. “A big bouquet of Lily of the Valley and you know what Lily of the Valley symbolizes?”

Keeley shakes her head and Rebecca sighs, shoulders falling. “Apology,” she explains for you. “You give them to someone you hurt and don’t know how to apologize to.”

Keeley’s lips part in disbelief; “I never got fucking Lily of the Valley’s.”

Sinking into the couch, you cry out; “exactly! And then he starts opening doors for me and helping me pack things up… he’s listening to me in practice when he never used to, deliberately asking for my opinion after practice after the rest of the coaches have said their pieces. He tells the rest of the team to shut up if he feels they’re not listening to me and he asks me for pointers alone so he can get better. And! God! I was upset and he made this whole big speech about how amazing a coach I am and how the team appreciates me and shit and then I hugged him and cried on him and he didn’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit. He… he was actually really fucking sweet.”

The second you’re done ranting, Keeley and Rebecca glance at each other, before coming to the same conclusion.

“Well,” Keeley says hesitantly. “It definitely sounds like you fancy him.”

Pulling at your hair, you let out a cry. 

“No, no,” Rebecca shakes her hand, pulling your hands away from your face and holding them safely in her own. “It’s fine, love. Jamie has really turned himself around.”

“He has,” Keeley is quick to agree. “I mean, he never did any of that stuff for me and we were already in a relationship.”

“But it isn’t fine,” you argue, shaking your head. “Because he’s Jamie Tartt, and he’s fucking fit and now he’s nice too… and he’s a star football player and I’m just Y/N Y/L/N, some random assistant female coach on a team of male football players. No one knows me and I’m not special and I’m not a model or a celebrity or any of the usual types he goes for.”

“That is absolutely not true,” Rebecca says instantly, face appalled as if she can’t believe you’ve just said what you have.

“You are Y/N fucking Y/L/N.” Keeley adds, moving to grip your cheeks tightly between her hands. “The first and only female assistant coach of Richmond who has come up with more strategy plays that have helped us win than anyone else. Not to mention, you are proper fit. You are an absolutely fucking gorgeous and successful woman that Jamie would be incredibly lucky to have.”

Lips parting, you blink. Keeley and Rebecca are both looking at you in a way that leaves no room for arguments and feeling your eyes water, you pout; “you mean that?”

“Of course I fucking mean that.”

“Y/N,” Rebecca calls, squeezing your hands tightly. “I am so proud of you and the woman that you are and incredibly lucky to have you as a coach for my team. I know that, Keeley knows that, the team knows that and it looks like Jamie is aware of that more than anyone else. I know it’s hard to leave yourself vulnerable like this, but at least give him a shot.”

Biting your lip, you meet her eyes, finding the reassurance in them you needed before you glance over at Keeley who is grinning widely, nodding.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay.”

-

You’d believed what Rebecca and Keeley said.

Of course you did because you know they’d never lie to you.

And you’d promised them you’d give Jamie a chance before simply believing there’s no way he’d like you. But promising and doing was a lot different, and it’s hard to find the chance to say anything to him over the next few days.

The whole team is anxious because of the game against Manchester City coming up, especially since the last time they’d played them, it was the match that had gotten them regulated. Adding even more to that, Jamie had been on the Manchester team when that had happened and even though you know he’d made great strides towards making up with the team since coming back to Richmond, he was just anxious as the rest of them.

For a multitude of reasons you didn’t understand.

So, there wasn’t a chance to say anything.

And there certainly wasn’t one now that they’d lost. You’d briefly wondered to yourself that if they won, maybe you could run to Jamie and just confess your feelings then, thick in the adrenaline of it all. Like they did in the movies. All sweet and romantic.

Only, Richmond hadn’t won and you certainly weren’t going to now.

Especially when you were just as disappointed as the rest of them.

You’re speaking with Ted and Roy in the locker room when Jamie’s father comes in, and any conversation you’d been having falls silent the second he does.

You watch in stunned silence as Jamie’s father makes an embarrassment of himself, laughing and joking as he makes fun of the team's loss before zeroing in on Jamie himself. He says the cruelest things, and everything clicks in that moment why Jamie was the way that he was before he’d left Richmond.

And when Jamie punches his father straight across the face, you jump and your hands fall to your lips but you’re not shocked and you don’t think Jamie is wrong either.

No one says anything and no one does anything as Beard drag’s Jamie’s father out of the locker room and Jamie stands there, still standing in a defensive position. You want to do something, you want to say something, but you don’t think it’s your place. And you don’t know if Jamie would even feel all that much comfort with having you do anything.

Roy steps past you in the next second, taking Jamie into his arms and he loses it then, his sobs echoing throughout the otherwise silent room.

Ted runs past you at one point, but you don’t notice, eyes stuck on that of Jamie and Roy.

Then, Roy’s pulling away, but Jamie’s still got tears in his eyes, pressing his hand to his eyes as he tries to hide away. Suddenly, Roy’s eyes are on you, and he’s smiling in a knowing way, before promptly kicking everyone else out of the room. Your eyes widen as he does, body tensing in panic as Roy nods at you just before shutting the door behind him, leaving just you and Jamie in the room alone.

You can hear him sniffling to himself, a small sob breaking past his lips as you stand there, feeling out of place and like you’re stepping past his boundaries. So, slowly, you step towards him. “I can, uh, leave too if you’d like some–”

“No,” is all Jamie says before he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You freeze at the action at first, unsure what to do or say, before slowly your body eases, and your arms are raising, hands falling to his back as you squeeze him tightly.

He clutches onto you, sobbing into your neck, and you let him wordlessly, rubbing his back in smooth, slow patterns in a way you hope is comforting.

And the two of you stay like that for a while.

-

Your relationship from then on changes.

More than it already had.

You find yourself willingly hanging out with him when you would’ve avoided it otherwise before. Jamie always seems to be there, lending a helping hand or letting you talk his ear off about something or another.

The two of you never really spoke about what had happened in that locker room but you didn’t need to. It went without saying. You understood Jamie in a way that you hadn’t before, and although it didn’t excuse it, it made sense why he’d been the way had been before and it showed him trying to be better meant a lot more than it had before.

So, the season ends, and you watch the changes Jamie’s doing with a smile and a completely different attitude. When he gives Dani the shot, or when he joins in on team chants before matches. He’s still arrogant and cocky, but it’s in a more loveable way than it had been before, and now when he comes in every morning wearing his stupid ICON hat and dumb sunglasses, you can barely hide the smile that curls onto your lips.

Or the way that despite him wearing such stupid things, you think he looks ridiculously hot.

The season ends and then the new one starts up with one less coach after Nate had left only to join West Ham. It had certainly been a betrayal and you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t hurt. You’d always felt like Nate had understood you in a way maybe some of the others didn’t and the two of you had shared that office alone for so long that you couldn’t help the way you’d cried when you’d realized what he’d done.

Jamie holds you through it. 

A soft, gentle and comforting presence that never makes you feel silly for feeling so hurt and betrayed and for that, you’re eternally grateful.

Suddenly, Jamie is someone you can’t live without. You look forward to every morning you see him walk into the locker room, and you find yourself texting him at night, unable to stop the giddy feeling that floods you every time you hear your phone ding and see it’s him calling or texting you.

Keeley and Rebecca tease you all whilst constantly trying to get you to confess. You always say that you will, but you never do.

You’re mad for him, that you know but you don’t know if he’s mad for you and you don’t want to ruin the relationship the two of you have built just because of your stupid feelings. It was nice having him as a friend, and although every time you saw him you just wanted to kiss him, you didn’t want to lose that friendship either.

So you never say anything.

-

“So, I would suggest just–”

“Y/N–?”

Lips left parted at the sound of Sam, you turn to him as he pokes his head into the office. He freezes when he sees Jamie standing behind you, the two of you going over one of his plays, your hand left held with the whiteboard marker and he winces. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you two.”

Jamie is waving his hand in reassurance as you smile at Sam, letting your hand fall; “it’s fine, Sam. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to drive you home tonight,” he explains, chancing a quick glance at Jamie before focusing back on you. “I have to run by the restaurant before heading home and I’m not sure how long it will take.”

“Oh,” you blink, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Sam. I can walk home tonight. It’s no problem.” Then, cheekily, you can’t help but add; “as long as when you finally do let me see your restaurant, everything is on the house.”

Laughing, Sam shakes his head; “it already was. And for you,” he points at you with a grin, “it’ll always be.”

Smilingly, you nod, waving him goodbye as he does the same, slipping out of the office. You laugh quietly to yourself as he does, before turning to find Jamie’s eyes on you, and you blink; “sorry,” you offer bashfully. “Where were we–”

“I didn’t know Sam drove you home?”

Pausing, you shift back to face Jamie. “Oh, yeah. He saw that I was walking home one night, offered me a drive and it’s been like that since.”

Jamie nods, slowly. “You two are close.”

“Um, yeah?” You agree with a shrug. “Sam is easy to talk to, I guess. Super friendly and kind.”

“Hm,” Jamie hums lightly. “He does look like he’d make a good boyfriend.”

It takes you half a second to register what Jamie’s said both because you feel that’s a weird observation for Jamie to make and also because when in that conversation did you say he was your boyfriend?

“We’re not dating,” you explain, shaking your head as you laugh. “We’re just friends.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, cheeks warming in faint embarrassment but… is that a hint of relief you see? Probably not, you’re just psyching yourself out.

“Oh.”

Nodding, you bite your lip; “yeah.”

“Cool,” Jamie hums and you raise a brow at him, before turning back to the whiteboard.

“Did you wanna…?”

Jamie is quick to agree, shifting on his feet to put his focus back on what you were saying before Sam had stepped in. But then, just as your lips part to continue, Jamie is interrupting you;

“I could drive you home.”

He says it so nonchalantly you think you imagine him saying it at first.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and he turns to you.

“If you’d like.”

“Um,” and you hate the way your voice shakes or the nerves that rattle your entire being. “Sure… Sure, that’d… that’d be great. If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he assures with a grin. “Why would I mind having a pretty girl in me car?”

Cheeks burning you quickly glance back ahead of yourself to not let him see how much that simple comment made your heart flutter and your insides feel like jelly. Inhaling sharply, it’s hard to fight the smile from curling onto your lips as you move to continue saying what you’d been trying to say before.

You’re so focused that you don’t see Jamie watching you, a grin curling onto his own lips when he sees how flustered you are.

-

“Pretty coach.”

Halting in your step, you glance up, only to have to crane your head upwards when you find Zava, the star player Rebecca had managed to score, staring down at you. He’s tall, very tall, and you’re not exactly sure why he’s here, in the middle of the hall, or why he’s talking to you.

“Zava,” you greet nervously, offering a small smile.

He’s stepping towards you, effectively closing the distance between you as your eyes widen, freezing when he reaches forward to take your hand in his own. Before you know it, he’s pressing his lips against the top of your hand, a gentle, swift kiss as he glances at you through his lashes, smirking.

“I look forward to working under you as my coach,” he explains, accent thick as he pulls his lips away. It doesn’t escape your notice that he doesn’t let go of your hand, though.

“Oh, um, me–me too. But you’ll mainly be working under Coach Lasso since he’s the head–...”

Your words trail when you realize he’s not really listening. He’s just… staring. Directly at you.

Swallowing thickly, with your free hand, you touch your face; “is there something on my–”

“Oh no, no,” he laughs gently, squeezing your hand. “You just have the most beautiful eyes.”

Feeling yourself warm, you meet his eyes in surprise before glancing down at your feet, “oh, um, thank–”

“Oi.”

The new voice is sharp and your head is spinning over your shoulder only to see Jamie promptly making his way over to you. You’re surprised by how angry he looks, but his attention isn’t focused on you and rather Zava as he quickly makes his way over, pulling your hand out of Zava’s and gently pushing you behind him as he blocks you from sight from Zava. You flush when you realize Jamie’s still holding onto your hand, before slowly peeking over his shoulder.

“Tartt,” Zava grins, “it’s wonderful to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie huffs. “Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?”

Raising his hands in surrender, Zava laughs, stepping back as he moves to walk away. His eyes catch yours and he winks at you before turning to walk off.

“Prick.” Jamie hisses under his breath.

You pause at that, turning to him only to see his eyes set in a glare, watching Zava disappear down the hall before you let out a giggle. Jamie’s eyes fall on you the second you do, gaze softening when he sees you giggling.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you smile, biting your lip as you glance up at him. “Just funny. You're calling him a prick.”

Jamie’s eyes widen in mock hurt; “he is!”

“Sure,” you shrug. “And so were you.”

“But not anymore,” he teases, rolling his eyes at you.

“True,” you agree, shocking him by how easily you do. You just continue to smile at him, “definitely not anymore.”

Jamie stares down at you, eyes never leaving your face. “He’s right about one thing, though.”

Quirking a brow, you tilt your head; “yeah? And what’s that?”

“You do have the most beautiful eyes.”

That was the last thing you expected.

Lips parting, you’re burning red as you promptly slap Jamie in the arm.

“Ow!” He hisses, pulling away as his hand (regrettably) leaves yours. “What was that for?”

You just stare back at him, pouting, embarrassed, hoping he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating.

Or notice that the way he said it meant way more than it did coming from Zava.

“Prick.”

Jamie just blinks, pouting; “what did I do?”

-

You let out a laugh as Jamie comes running up on the bus cheering about seeing Windmills, shaking your head with a grin as the rest of the guys cheer him on.

He walks down the aisle, high fiving a few of the guys until his eyes settle on you. Leaning your head against the seat, you grin cheekily up at him. “Did you have a fun night?” You ask with a head tilt, biting the inside of your cheek.

Smiling down at you, Jaime nods; “yeah, you?”

“Perfect,” you assure. “Spent a quiet night in my room.”

“The boys didn’t keep ya company?” He frowns, and he looks like he’s about to say something before you quickly reach forward, grabbing his wrist.

“That was team bonding stuff, silly,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, I had the most relaxing bath. It was fine.”

He glances down at you, not saying anything, but you feel your chest tighten when you see the way his eyes glance across your entire figure at the word bath.

Ignoring the butterflies, you smile; “saved you a seat, see?” You gesture to the empty window seat next to you, and Jamie laughs.

“You want the window seat?”

“Yup,” you grin, shuffling over to the other side as Jamie takes your old spot. You settle down next to him, arm brushing against his as he grins over at you.

“You got lots of training done last night?”

Jamie nods, “yup. Taugh’ Roy how to ride a bike.”

Brows furrowing, you briefly wonder how that happened in the midst of training but you let it go all the same, shrugging as you laugh. “But you made sure to get some rest, yes?” You add, turning to him with a quirked brow. “Because you remember what I said about training? If you push yourself too hard, you’re not going–”

“–to help anyone,” he finishes for you with a chuckle. “Yes, I remember.”

“Good,” you nod, squeezing his arm. 

“And you?”

Blinking, you turn to him.

“Did you get some rest last night?”

You nod, touched by his concern. “Yeah,” you assure, “like I said, spent the night in my room, resting.”

“Good,” he repeats your words from earlier and you turn your head away to the window when you feel yourself smiling.

Yet, despite that, an hour later, you’ve passed out on Jamie’s very own shoulder, softly snoring away.

Jamie is careful not to move, not wanting to wake you up, but when Dani turns to take a photo excitedly, he doesn’t stop him.

“Hey,” he whispers to Dani, “send that to me, okay?”

-

“You need to talk to Jamie.”

Raising a brow, you glance up at Roy.

“...I do?”

“He’s a mess,” is all Roy says.

“Okay…?”

“And you need to talk to him.”

Biting your lip, you hum; “because?”

Huffing, Roy rolls his eyes like you’re the one being annoying. “Because you’re the only one he’ll listen to, so you need to talk to him and get him out of whatever funk he’s in.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’ll talk to him.”

-

You don’t get the chance to talk to him until you’ve arrived at the hotel the night before the game and even then it’s not really you talking to him.

The movie you’d all watched together is over and Ted had set a curfew but Jamie is taking your hand in his, throwing his hood up and leading you out of the hotel without another word. You glance over your shoulder to see Roy glancing at you in confusion, but you just shrug your shoulders and then Keeley is sending you two thumbs up with a bright grin and before you know it, you both are out the hotel and making your way across the street.

You let him lead, expecting him to say something, but he never really does. He’s eerily silent the entire walk, and it isn't until twenty minutes have passed that you finally tug on his grip and pull him to a stop. He glances back at you in surprise but you’re just shaking your head up at him, confused.

“If this is your way of getting me alone to murder me, I’m going to be really upset.”

He blinks at your words, confused at first, before he shakes his head. “No, no… of course not. I… I want you to meet someone.”

“Oh,” you mumble, feeling yourself ease as you meet his gaze. He’s staring back at you, obviously waiting for you to agree and with a gentle smile, you nod.

“Okay.”

It’s his mom.

He wanted you to meet his mom. 

You’re confused, extremely so, as Jamie leads you up the steps to a house, knocks and some older gentleman opens the door. He recognizes Jamie and invites the both of you in, and you’re left standing in the entrance way, baffled as you hug your coat closer to yourself, until a woman comes running down the stairs, screaming Jamie’s name and then suddenly she’s in his arms and he’s spinning her and calling her ‘mommy’ and it all clicks.

You can't help the smile that curls onto your lips at the sight, feeling like you’re being allowed to see a side of Jamie others rarely were.

And when Jamie introduces you to his mom, the smile turns into shock when she says; “you’re the one Jamie’s told me so much about!” And before you even have time to register those words or see Jamie glancing at you, she’s wrapping you up in her arms and hugging you so tightly as she gushes about how much she’s wanted to meet you.

You spend the night being welcomed by his mother and her boyfriend, before you leave Jamie to have his much needed conversation with his mom. Simon shows you around the house, before leaving you to glance around Jamie’s childhood bedroom yourself. You all but squeal at his Roy Kent poster, before rolling your eyes at Keeley’s, but happily glance round the rest of the room. You look at all his trophies and childhood photos, little drawings he’d done or books he’d read.

Before you know it, Jamie’s poking his head into the room and calling for you.

“Oh, Jamie,” you smile, “are you all done catching up with your mom?”

He nods, “yeah, you wanna get out of here? Go back to the hotel?”

“Sure,” you agree with ease, stepping toward him. He sets his hand against your back, leading you back towards the door where you say your final goodbyes. You thank Simon for the tour and give Georgie a huge hug, expressing how happy you were to meet her before she makes you promise you’ll come by and visit again.

You’re not quite sure how to reply to that, but it’s okay because Jamie does it for you, promising the two of you will stop by for an actual dinner soon.

And then, it’s just the two of you, making your way back to the hotel.

“So,” you call out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “You told your mum about me?”

Jamie rolls his eyes at that, huffing. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

That certainly isn’t the response you were expecting, so, with warm cheeks, you glance at your feet.

“Got it all sorted now?”

Jamie hums, “yup. Sorry if I worried ya.”

You shake your head. “Think you had Roy in more of a panic, if I’m being honest. Poor man couldn’t breathe, he was so worried.”

Jamie snorts at that, lightly nudging you with his arm. “So, ya weren’ worried at all?”

Turning your head, your smile fades as you meet his gaze. “No, I was. I just didn’t want to overstep.”

“You could never overstep,” Jamie assures, “I should’ve been open about how I was feelin’. Just needed to sort it out for meself.”

Smiling softly to yourself, you hug your hands behind your back. “Well, I’m glad you figured it all out, Jamie. Really. Now you can kick some serious ass tomorrow, yeah?” You’re smiling as you say it, nudging him back with your own arm as the two of you continue to walk.

Then, suddenly, Jamie stops.

Frowning, you glance back at him; “are you–?”

“Me mum helped me with somethin’ else.”

“Oh,” you mumble, not sure where he was going with this. “What’s that?”

“Said I should stop being such a pussy and tell you how I really feel.”

Lips parting, you freeze. “Oh.”

Jamie nods, slow, and you can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s shuffling on his feet. “So… here goes.”

Your eyes widen when he steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you until he’s right in front of you, inches away. Your eyes follow him, head tilted back as you stare up at him, unsure what to do or say. But you don’t need to, because Jamie is speaking up in the next second.

“I’m in love with ya,” he confesses, letting the words just slip past his lips. “I’ve been in love with ya since you hugged me after me dad in Wembley. Maybe before that, I dunno. All I know is that when I came back to Richmond, all I was focused on was makin’ everyone like me again and then you yelled at me that day in yer office and I realized it was more than that. It wasn’t just about makin’ people like me, but makin’ up for the cruel things I'd done. I’m so sorry for the way I treated ya before, but I want you to know that I think the absolute world of ya. You are kind and sweet and smart and proper fit and… I dunno, you might not feel the same but I don’t wanna go on another day not having you know how crazy I am for ya.”

His words settle, carry on in the silence, as you stare back up at him, lips left parted, disbelief coursing through your veins.

Jamie’s confidence wavers as the silence carries and he’s shuffling on his feet in worry as he swallows thickly. “You don’t have to say anythin’,” he assures, rambling now with nerves. “I just wanted ya to know, so–”

But you cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his own.

Jamie stumbles back from the pure force of the kiss at first, before he catches his balance and the shock fades and his hands are falling on your waist as he squeezes, returning the kiss with just as much passion. Maybe more. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do this for weeks, and you realize, he maybe has. He holds you like you're the only thing in that moment that matters and you let yourself sink into his touch, turning to putty in his hands as you thread your fingers through his hair.

Then, slowly, you pull away, breathless as he smiles down at you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “since the day you left me those flowers.”

Jamie’s eyes widen and his lips part but you don’t have the care to be embarrassed by your confession; it just felt good to finally, finally be able to say the words out loud.

“And I am so excited to see you kick ass tomorrow.” You breathe out, pressing your hands to his cheeks as you smile up at him, eyes dazed and sparkling with delight. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, Jamie presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“And I can’t wait to see you kick ass tomorrow.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #phil dunster #jamie tartt imagine

[aajjks]

Irreplaceable. (m)

synopsis. He was irreplaceable. You should’ve known that.

warnings. YÄNDÊRÊ CÖNTĚNT, mêntïöns öf kïdnäppïng, ëxtrëmë pösëssïvěnẽss, tǒxïc!göjö, nöncön kïss, prǒfanïty.

note. JJK fans this one’s for you. SEND ASKS AND PLEASE SHARE FEEDBACK ENJOY!

Gojo Saturo, cannot stand you moving on from him.

It makes him want to kill everyone that’s around him, it makes his head fucking explode, he didn’t want to break up

He didn’t want to be away from you, he didn’t want to lose you, but yet he did. He lost you. It was really his fault.

But how could you?

How could you even try to replace him?

Are you that stupid? He understood what a break meant, he was willing to give you a break, he was willing to work on himself. He was willing to do everything, but yet you had to ruin it all.

This was your doing

This wasn’t his fault. You made him do this.

You knew what kind of a man he was, Saturo was a jealous man, extremely possessive and territorial. Did you want to test his patience or were you just trying to make him suffer?

It did work though.

But he wasn’t the only one that suffered the consequences.

It was your current boyfriend too.

What a weak little man, he didn’t even come close to Gojo, your ex didn’t know that you had such bad taste in men. Looking at him almost made. Saturo laugh his ass off.

What a downgrade.

It was really easy though, Saturo didn’t even had to try hard to get rid of him, permanently.

And now he was gone.

And now Gojo is sitting here, hawking at you like a creep, well, you sleep peacefully in his bed, yeah, he kidnapped you.

He was an impulsive man. That was one of his many toxic traits.

He did whatever the fuck he wanted.

And also,

You look so pretty and peaceful like this just like the old times, he could look at you forever. Oh, how much he loves you.

Gojo leans in closer to your face and stares at your face, you look so cute. He wants to kiss you. His gaze travels to your lips and he sighs, his mouth is literally foaming.

He missed you way too much.

Gojo is so impatient, but he’s trying his best to not lose his control, he presses his lips, gently to yours and steals a peck.

“My princess…” he mumbles to himself, just then you start moving, maybe the spell is wearing off, thank God because you’ve been unconscious for a full day.

He was almost starting to get concerned

“hey Baby.” he smiles brightly as he watches you open your eyes, moving your body, so cutely- he finds everything you do, cute.

“W-What the fuck?” that’s the first thing you say, Gojo doesn’t stop smiling, his lips curl up even more, “yes you’re here in my home- no our home baby.” he quickly corrects himself.

“SATURO- WHAT THE FUCK?!” he watches you wince in pain, maybe the spell was too strong, he should’ve been more careful, but he was impatient.

“Shh.. you’re OK you’re safe..” this time he doesn’t even resist the urge to touch your skin, he caresses your forehead with his hands, your forehead is burning.

You have a fever, his smile dies down quick.

“you are burning YN…” should’ve been more careful, you are only a fragile human. Gojo feels guilt bubble up in his chest.

He doesn’t care about the clear panic in your face, you try to slap his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. “baby don’t try to do this right now..” he whispers.

“we’ll talk about this later. We have a lot to talk about anyways.”

“are you fucking insane? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he holds you down when you try to get up. Saturo rolls his eyes at your struggle.

He’s clearly getting pissed off.

“shut up YN. Yes I’m fucking insane because you tried to replace me. I’m going fucking insane. And that boyfriend of yours is dead… probably.”

Gojo doesn’t even get up from the seat, he glares at you, burning holes into your skin with his gaze.

“I’m fucking fuming. How could you, I was willing to give you space and that’s what you did to me? Immediately tried to replace me with that fucking loser?” he scoffs, and chuckles.

You open your mouth to argue, but he shuts you up, by holding his finger up on your lips, “like I said, shut the fuck up. You know what something I hate and love about you?”

Gojo clicks his tongue, looking at you with this cold blue eyes.

“I love and hate your fucking smart little mouth.”

Gojo caresses your cheek, his finger is feel so so hot on your skin, so soft under his touch.

“Too bad that I missed this pretty little mouth is so much..”

“I missed you way too much to argue like this. And just so you know, I do not regret kidnapping you. And I do not regret doing what I did to your boyfriend.”

You immediately start crying, crying for him to let you go, but he doesn’t listen.

“Stop fucking crying like a baby, now lay down and let me take care of you, come on be a good girl.” he scolds you.

He knows he’s so selfish and cold.

But he doesn’t give a fuck.

“you should’ve known that I was irreplaceable yn, I might’ve given you more time, but you had to do this, now you fucking pissed me off. Too bad that I love you so much though to punish you.”

#yandere jjk #yandere gojo #saturo smut #gojo saturo #jjk smut #gojo smut #yandere satoru gojo #yandere smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #smut #gojo saturo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo saturo x reader #gojo fic #gojo fluff #gojo angst