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#let me know if i'm missing any warning tags
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Stood on the cliffside screaming
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Summary: Jameson and Grayson deal with the anniversary of Emily's death Warnings: thoughts of suicide, angst, past character death (please tell me if I missed any!!) A/N: I'm really bad at writing romance so uh I'm sorry in advance for the kinda small averyjameson scene at the beginning.... *please tell me if I made any mistakes!!*
Tags: @catapparently, @urbanflorals, @nqds, @reminiscentreader
“Jamie,” Avery said as she laid a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder. He turned to give her a soft smile.
“Heiress.” She could tell he was holding something back. And she had a few suspicions about what that something was.
“I know what the date is, Jameson Hawthorne.” He tensed for the briefest moment under her hand before relaxing again.
“Happy birthday, heiress.”
“You know that wasn’t the day I was talking about,” Avery said softly. They both knew exactly what she was talking about. They both knew exactly why today was what it was.
October eighteenth. The happiest and worst day of Jameson’s life. The day Avery was born and the day Emily died.
“I know,” Jameson muttered softly, leaning down to kiss his girlfriend. It was soft. He was letting her decide what to do with it. But really, what choice was there but to kiss him back? Deep and yearning. It was a feeling she wanted to go on for forever. But it couldn’t and they both knew that.
“You’re going to have to talk about it at some point you know,” Avery said, pulling away. She was close enough to feel his breath tickle her skin. Close enough to just lean in and let the world melt away yet again. To just let everything go and fall into his arms. But she couldn’t when he was hurting. They both knew that.
“Can’t we just celebrate the good thing?” His breath whispered across her face. She wanted nothing more than to celebrate today, but she wanted to do it when one of her favorite people in the world wasn't in pain.
“You’re hurting, Jamie.” He let out a soft sigh but didn’t back away.
“Today will never be easy. I think you know that. But it’s easier when I’m with you. When I think about the good things and not the bad.” He lifted his hand and rested it on her face. “Like the fact that today was the day you were born into this world. The day that meant that sometime in the future, we would meet each other. The day that led to this.”
“Jamie.” Her voice was barely audible. She was scared that any volume louder than that would break the delicate calm in the storm they had created.
“Heiress.” He returned with the same gentleness.
“I love you.” And they descended into a kiss yet again. Just when their lips touched, she heard someone clearing their throat. Avery whipped her head around, and saw Nash standing in the doorway with a smug grin. Crap.
“You know,” the eldest Hawthorne brother said, walking in. “You really ought to close the door when you’re making out.” He looked over at Avery. “Happy birthday.”
“Oh, um, th– thank you,” Avery managed to stutter out. She was sure her face was red at this point. What was more embarrassing than having your boyfriend’s older brother slash older sister’s fiancé walking in on you kissing? Jamie sighed, narrowing his eyes at his brother.
“Why are you here, Nash.”
“I was bored,” he said, shrugging. Then he paused for a moment before turning to Jamie with concern in his eyes. “How are you doing?” Jameson rolled his eyes with a scoff.
“I’m fine, Nash.” Nash looked at Avery, raising his eyebrows.
‘Better,’ Avery mouthed, taking her boyfriend’s hand. Nash nodded. That was good. As the oldest brother, he was always worried about them. But today especially. Emily’s death day was never good for Jamie and Gray. But Jamie has Avery to keep him from doing anything too reckless now, and he was grateful for that.
“Has anyone seen Gray today?” He asked. Avery felt Jameson’s hand tense in her own.
“You haven’t?” To anyone else, his voice would have sounded carefree and light. But Avery knew what he was really feeling. Despite how he wanted everyone to think, Jameson cared about his brothers a lot. He was worried. And the more worried he got, the more he tended to pretend that he wasn’t.
“I was going to check the pool next,” Nash said with a shrug.
“No,” Jameson said, a strange expression on his face. “His two AM swim should be over by now.” His tone was mocking, but Avery knew better. A look of realization dawned on his face as he let out a curse.
“You know where he is, don’t you,” Nash said, watching as his brother put on a thin jacket, no doubt getting ready to leave the house. Jamie paused, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“Oh, ‘tis so woeful being the only genius in this house.” He left the room, but not before giving one more smirk back at Avery and Nash. She started to follow him out, but Nash put a hand on her shoulder.
“Something about this tells me that they need to do this alone,” he muttered. He shot her a grin. “And if they end up not killing each other in the next ten minutes, we can go get them then.” Avery nodded, before turning to Nash with a puzzled expression.
“How will we know where to go?” Nash shot her another grin, and then it clicked. “You already know where he is, don’t you.” Nash shrugged.
“I figured this was something they should do themselves first.” Of course he already knew. “Although,” he added. “I don’t particularly like the spot Gray chose.” He shrugged, but Avery could tell he was worried too. The brothers cared about each other. And Nash being the oldest one, well, he’s had more experience than all of them in dealing with and taking care of the Hawthorne brothers. “I’ll text you in five,” he called out behind him as he left her room.
****
The wind was cold, but Grayson couldn’t feel it. It was unusually cold for an October day, but he supposed it fit. It was funny, in a twisted sort of way how much he wanted to just– no. He wasn’t allowed to show that. He wasn’t allowed to say that. He could only think that because he needed to be perfect. And perfect people don’t think about jumping off to see if they would fly, knowing damn well they can’t.
Perfect people wouldn’t be like Grayson Hawthorne.
He would just swim. Just swim until he physically couldn’t anymore, then he’d swim one more lap after that. To get rid of the noise. To get rid of the hurt. To get rid of the numb. But it always returned with a vengeance the moment he stopped. But this cliff? This cliff was fine. Yeah, it was fine. He could just– he could just stay here a little longer, right?
He had lost track of time at this point. How long had he been up here, looking over the edge? How long had he been shut off and numb to the world around him? Well, he knew the answer to that. Since practically forever. He couldn’t remember a single day when nothing hurt. When nothing was wrong. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it matter.
Sometime, somewhere in the fog that had taken over his brain, he heard footsteps from behind him. It was funny how he could be so lost yet so aware at the same time. He picked on the littlest things these days, yet he was still never fully present for any of it.
At first he thought he was making it all up. He’s made up entire people before, so what's stopping him from making up this sound? Still he whipped his head around, and was filled with the slightest of shock and relief that he wasn’t making it up.
“So I was right,” he heard his brother say when he turned his head back around. Jameson sounded smug, but Grayson had long gained the ability to see – and hear – through his facade. He was worried. Grayson wanted to scoff and shake some sense into him because Grayson Hawthorn did not need any worry. He didn’t deserve it.
“How are you today, Jameson?” He asked, because asking Jameson and making sure he was ok was easier than telling him that Grayson wasn’t. He wouldn't admit it was because he cared about his brother. He just wouldn’t. He was met with a scoff coming from his right as Jameson sat down next to him.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, sure.” Grayson said. His brother could deflect as much as he wanted, but Grayson could do it better.
“Well that’s rich coming from the person who’s sitting on the edge of the cliff where they watched someone die.” Grayson could do nothing but shrug. There was a pause before Jameson spoke again. “It’s hard, but I’m getting through it. Avery’s helping.” Grayson nodded. That was good. As much as he hated to show it, he hated the idea of any of his brothers being hurt. “How are you?” So he really did ask it, huh.
“I’m fine.” He was aware that he was echoing Jameson, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.
“Yeah, because sitting on the edge of the cliff where Emily died for who knows how long at this point is certainly the definition of fine.” He flinched when her name was mentioned and he knew Jameson noticed. He was relieved when it wasn’t brought up. “Talk to me, Gray.” But he couldn’t. Didn’t he understand? He couldn’t. He let out a quiet sigh.
“Life is funny, isn’t it?” Grayson turned to his brother for the first time since he arrived, laughing darkly. He turned back to the direction of the edge. “It just has to make them both land on the same date, doesn’t it.” He turned his head up to look at the sky. Jameson didn’t talk. “I’m just– I’m so sick of it.” He couldn’t bring himself to care that he was revealing what he had kept buried for his entire life, and to his brother no less.
“Of the dates?” Jameson sounded light, like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Grayson heard the heaviness in his voice nonetheless.
“Of life.” He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, unearthing feelings he had taught himself to suppress for as long as he could remember. But it felt like nothing. Like he was just empty.
“You were going to jump off that cliff.” Jameson said, his voice a mix of emotions that Grayson didn’t have the energy or motivation to pick apart. The part he did catch though, was that it wasn’t a question.
“No.” On some level, he was aware that he was talking. But it felt like he was underwater. Which was funny, because he realized that he sort of wanted to be. Underwater. And to never come back up. “I was going to step off.” He realized on some level that his voice sounded hollow. Like it had died a long time ago, and was decaying. It was funny because that was how he felt. Turned out his voice reflected it too. He realized he had a strange sense of humor.
“How long?” And Grayson knew exactly what he was asking. How long had he been this way? How long had he wanted to simply die and not be revived?
“The question you ought to ask isn’t how long,” he said, “rather when am I not.” He heard footsteps coming from behind them. Ah, so their ten minutes alone were up according to Nash.
“Have you guys gotten all your angst out yet?” He heard his youngest brother say. Leave it to Xander to lighten the mood.
“Meh,” Jameson said, and Grayson could hear him smirking. He knew without looking that Avery sat down next to his brother, and Nash was in the process of sitting down next to him. And Libby sat next to Nash, Max sat next to Avery, and Xander sat next to Max.
“So,” Avery said after a moment of silence. “The cliff?” Grayson shrugged.
“Personally,” Nash started saying, placing a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. He found that he strangely didn’t mind. “I think it’s a bit cold, but oh well.”
“Ok, now that everyone is here,” Jameson said after another moment of silence. “You can’t lie anymore. How are you really, Gray?” He was aware his heart was pounding, but he was too busy making sure he didn’t cry. Because Grayson Hawthorn could not cry. How long had he spent his childhood wishing, pleading that someone would ask him that? But now– now he didn’t know what to say.
“I have no idea.” His voice was monotone and conveyed no emotion at all. Just the way he liked it. Just the way Tobias liked it.
“That’s ok,” Nash said, and something in him broke. He felt a tear silently fall from his eyes. That was another thing. Crying silently. He had taught himself how to do that when he used to cry in the middle of the night before he had mastered the art of blocking everything out. And they just kept coming.
And then Jameson hugged him and they fell faster. They never hugged. Jameson pulled back and looked into his eyes.
'I know,' they were saying. 'I’ve got you. You’re safe. I know.'
The date would always be hard. But they had each other. And that made it that much more tolerable. And it would be ok.
It would be ok.
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captainlunaxmen · 3 days
Text
All for the Cameras
Chapter 9
Finnick Odair x fem!reader
Hello! I'm sorry it takes me this long to write each chapter, but I have so many ideas for so many fics, and also, I don't want to fuck this one up😅
Let me know what you think, especially now that we're entering Mockingjay pt1, I would appreciate some feedback, so I can get better and better.♥️♥️♥️
Chapter summary: time to face the consequences. But that doesn't mean the fight is over.
Chapter warnings: violence, torture, guilt, implied rape, non-consensual touching, Cal, Finnick being a sweetie pie.
Tag list:
@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @abaker74 @syd649 @meikoo @secretsicanthideanymore @p1stachi @laylasshiftingtonight @yourmumstoy @s0urw00lf @kermits-bitch @littleshadow17 @piya-re
I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺
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Y/n's Pov
My mind can't register nothing but pain.
In my head.
In my chest.
Everywhere.
All I can feel is pain.
I can vaguely hear voices around me, but I can't make out what they are saying.
I'm tied down on a table, lights prevent me from seeing more of the room. I try my best to move, but I can't, I can't move an inch and breathing gets harder.
Suddenly the pain is gone. I immediately try to catch my breath and I try to also understand where I am exactly.
"The pain you feel right now is nothing compared to what I felt when I found out about your betrayal."
My chest tightens even more when I hear Cal's voice.
"Do you have any idea what that felt like?" He comes into my line of sight, I can clearly see his anger, jaw clenching as he leans over me, "you hurt me, princess."
"You... you... hurt me... f-first..." I stutter out, my throat hurts badly.
"Me?" He scoffs, "I hurt you first? Princess, do you hear yourself? I gave you everything."
I want to scoff, want to throw everything I've hold back all these years, but I'm too weak.
"You..."
"Shut up!" He screams right at my face.
"General." A voice calls from what I assume is the door.
Cal immediately stands straight, hard look on his face as he steps back.
"President Snow." Cal nods his head.
"Leave us, general." Snow orders.
"Yes, sir." Cal nods and looks down at me, "I will see you soon."
I look up at the ceiling, focusing on calming my heart and breathing.
"You know, miss L/n," he starts speaking as he walks closer, "I have to give it to you, you did fool me. I did thought you were finally realising what being in the Capitol means. What these games mean."
I dare look at him once he's close enough. He has a smirk on his face.
"And you believed me?" I ask with the voice I have left.
"I did, and for that I owe you my respect. If only you were this good at lying before I had to kill your brother... such a shame." He sighs, "I remember that day too, miss L/n, I remember the hatred in your eyes, how easily I could read you, your thoughts and your intentions. You wanted to die, didn't you?"
"Better... than this..." I mutter.
"Oh, yes, I know. But you made a mistake." He states, it's almost like he's teaching to a class, "do you know what mistake?"
I gulp and take a breath to answer.
"I... I cared..." I answer weakly.
"Exactly." He nods, "you started to care not only about the tributes you were assigned to, but the mentors... and the tributes you weren't supposed to help." My eyes shot to his face, "I have to say you also got better at hiding that, for a good while I thought you stopped. This will be no comfort to you, I'm sure, but I am very proud of you, my dear."
"An insult..." I grit out.
"Of course. Oh and let's not forget the threats you had to invent... wonderful ideas, absolutely wonderful. With that you convinced me, I have to admit. Ideas worthy of the Capitol." He says this knowing I feel guilty, knowing that I hated being part of the games.
"Just kill me already." I breath out.
"Kill you? My dear girl, how could I? I would never kill Capitol's Princess, no, no." He chuckles.
"Then what? Torture me until I don't know who I am anymore?" I try to raise my voice a little, but the pain in my chest makes it hard.
"No, that's for Mr. Mellark to find out. " He casually say and I open my mouth to say something but he cuts me off, "no, you will be always aware of what's going on. And whatever mistake you make, they will pay."
"No..."
"You see, miss L/n, you might think you got so good at lying that I wouldn't know you anymore. But I do. And I know the worst torture for you is not pain, even though that will come too of course, no, it's hearing your loved ones in pain and not being able to help them." He looks proudly at me, satisfied with my terrified reaction, "or better... knowing you are the reason they're screaming."
He then looks beyond me, to someone, nod his head and in that moment screaming fills my ears. My eye widen recognising the voice.
"No... no..."
"It's Mr. Mellark first session, thought you wanted to assist." He says, I pull at the restraints, but they're too hard and I'm too weak, "know that the pain he's feeling right now is sponsored by you, miss L/n."
After that he walks away, I scream at him all the insults that come to mind, but the exhaustion is kicking in.
Peeta screams and screams and screams, I can't imagine what they're doing to him, what he's thinking...
It's all my fault...
My fault.
--------------
Finnick's Pov
All Finnick can do now is make knots, knots, and knots. The only thing to try and keep his mind busy... but it's no use.
All his thoughts are consumed by guilt as he sits on the hospital bed in 13. He doesn't deserve it. He keeps repeating to himself. He should've gone back.
"Finnick." Katniss suddenly calls.
"I wanted to go back for Peeta and Johanna... but I, uh...I... I couldn't move." He dares look at Katniss. He can't read her expression, and he doesn't even want to. He sighs, "they have Y/n, too. They took her." He notices her expression softening, knowing the two girls were slowly developing a friendship, "she's, uh... she's in the Capitol." Then a horrible thought makes its way into his mind, "I wish she was dead. I wish they were dead and we were too."
Does he actually want it? He knows what the Capitol is capable of, and he knows that death would be more merciful. He can't even imagine what they're doing to his friends right now, how they're torturing them.
Death sounds so much more appealing.
Y/n's Pov.
The fetal position doesn't offer that much comfort as people say. The cold floor makes sure of it. I don't know how long they kept me tied up to that table, how long they forced me to hear they screams.
The doors opening get my attention and I immediately sit up and move closer to the wall. I hear the cell's door next to mine opening and closing. Then footsteps exiting the room.
"Y/n?" Peeta's weak and tired voice calls me.
"P-Peeta..." I move to the bars, along the wall we share, "Peeta, I'm so sorry..."
"Don't..." he groans, I can hear he's getting closer too, "don't blame yourself. It's... not your fault."
"I feel like it is... If I..."
"No," he cuts me off, "don't go down there. Don't blame yourself."
"What... what did they do to you?" I ask, hesitantly.
"I don't think thay will do you any good." He says, even in this situation he tries to look out for others.
"Please..." I whisper.
"Electrocuting." He sighs.
"Peeta..."
"Not your fault." He firmly says. "What about you?"
I sigh, still feeling my head throbbing.
"Same, and in the meantime they made me... listen to you."
"Oh..."
"You have to be stronger then them," I tell him.
"What... what do you mean?"
"Don't let them change you. They know it's your fear... Don't let them." I instruct, "Whatever they're going to do to you, whatever they're going to tell you, it's not real."
"I... I'll try." He says, his tone is scared and unsure. I wish I could do more, I wish I could take that pain from him.
"You have to."
An angry scream interrupts us and suddenly the doors are open again.
"Fucking assholes! Let me fucking go!"
I can see Johanna's being thrown into the cell in front of ours and the guards immediately leave without a word.
"Fuck!" She screams hitting her hands on the ground.
"Johanna..?" I call.
"Y/n! I thought they killed you!" She exclaims.
"That would've been too kind."
"You're right. Torturing people is more like their style." She agrees.
"What's their plan?" Peeta asks, a little hesitant, "I mean, what use could we be?"
"To convince the Capitol." I say.
"What do you mean?" Johanna asks.
"The Capitol loved Katniss and Snow wants to discredit her, he needs to." I explain, "he needs to convince the Capitol Katniss is the villain... or... convince them she was a victim too."
"Why would he do that?" Peeta's confused.
"Because it could use this to convince the districts too. If the districts believe she never wanted a revolution, if they believe she's only wants everything to go back to normal, they won't raise against the Capitol. They won't have a leader anymore. He could still control them."
"Why would they believe it?" She asks again.
"They managed to convince everyone of all sort of thing in the past few years, I wouldn't be surprised." I say.
"Right... and where do we fit in this plan?"
"Make us say what they want."
"How?" Johanna spats.
"Don't underestimate them." I glare, "don't think they don't have the means to get you to do what they need you to. And trust they will do whatever they can. And the Capitol can do a lot. You should know."
"Fuck. Fuck!" Johanna punches the wall, frustrated.
"No need to hurt yourself now, Johanna. Don't steal all the fun." I sarcastically tell her.
"So much fun, indeed." She agrees, "fuck! We better be dead."
"I wish... I wish." I breath out, I notice Peeta has been quiet for a while, "Peeta? Are you okay?"
"Yeah... I mean, no. Sorry, I..." he sighs, I can tell he's holding back tears, "I guess I'm scared."
"I know, I am too."
I hold out a hand between the bars, hoping he would see it and take it, thankfully he does, it's not the most comfortable position, but it gives us some comfort, I wish I could do the same with Johanna. I look at her and she sadly smiles and nods her head.
"It's okay." She whispers.
The doors suddenly open, harshly. Automatically we all move to the walls, to somwhow hide, knowing full well ot would be no use.
Then Cal gets in front on my cell, and my chest tightens again at the sight.
"Stand." He orders as he open the door.
I'm apparently taking too much time so he enters and yanks me up.
"Hey! Leave her alone!" Johanna yells and hits the bars.
"It's okay..." I tell her, and Cal drags me out.
"You shut up," he says to Johanna, "unless you want another session."
"I'm okay, don't worry ab-"
"Shut up. Walk." Cal orders me.
No other choice but to walk.
--------------
Cal drags me all the way to a long corridor until we reach a room, in which he, not so kindly, push me.
The room is small, there's only a table and two chairs, it looks like an interrogation room or something. But what scares me the most is being alone in such a tiny space with Cal.
"We need to talk." He states, closing the door behind him. "Sit."
I do as he says, my eyes on him in case he wants to try something... not that I could be able to do anything about it, but it's little comfort... little.
"Why?" He simply asks.
"Uh?" I'm a little taken aback by the question.
"Why you? Why did they had to corrupt you?" He asks.
"Corrupt me..? What... what do you mean?" I'm just as confused.
"Why would you risk everything for them? It doesn't make sense to me." He says, sitting down in front of me, he tries to take my hands but I move them out of the way.
"Everything? What everything?"
"Your life, our life together. "
"You... are you serious?" I can't help the anger raising.
"We were so happy together, we want-"
"You were." I cut him off, "you were happy, I was miserable. Your father paid me to be with you, then you kept on paying me. You forced me to. Snow forced me to. You and any other person in the Capitol."
"I gave you everything." He grits out.
"Gave me every- what the fuck are you referring to? The clothes? The jewellery? Or the bruises? Maybe the nightmares" I spit back.
"I love you." He says.
"No you don't." I'm exasperated now, "you don't. I don't know what you think you love, but it's not me."
"Don't you ever tell me what I feel. I know damn well." He stands up, and come closer.
Once he's too close I get up too, to get as far as the small room allows me to.
"You have no idea what love is." I tell him.
"And you do?" He scoffs, "don't tell me..." He stops for a moment, considering me, "was I right all this time?"
"About what?"
"Odair." He simply says and I instinctively look away from him, "I was right!"
He quickly corners me into the wall, hand around my neck and the other grabs my wrist tightly as I try to push him off.
"Cal..."
"Remember this: you are mine. Mine. We will get married soon, the people will see you as a victim of this mess, and once I get my hands on him... I will kill you and you will watch." He threatens.
"No..."
"Yes, now, if you don't mind I missed our time together... I plan on making up for lost time." He whispers, face getting closer to mine.
It's when I feel his lips on mine that I start to push and turn around, but he's too strong for me... all I can do is let him.
Finnick's Pov
Finnick's been sitting all day, he doesn't even want to eat or sleep, he only does because he knows Y/n would scold him for it.
The door opening catches his attention, and relaxes a little seeing Haymitch walking in.
"Mr. Odair." Haymitch nods and stands in front of him, "how do we feel today?"
"Maybe better than you." Finnick answers, "How's rehab doing?"
"It could be better... I have to admit." He replies, tone's heavy.
"I have to ask..." Finnick starts.
"She was supposed to be at the rooftop with me, we waited, we did wait... until we couldn't anymore." Haymitch starts to explain, guilty visible in his expression and talking, "I kept my eyes open the whole time just to catch a glimpse of her, but I'm afraid the peacekeepers were already at her apartment." He sighs, "I'm sorry."
"I don't think she would like you blaming yourself." Finnick tries to joke, tears in his eyes.
"Oh, I know." Haymitch sadly smiles, "we'll get them all back."
"Really?" Finnick doesn't want to hold his hopes up, but if there's even the smallest chance of seeing her again, he would grab it.
"I owe her." Haymitch mutters more to himself than to Finnick.
Finnick wants to ask him how he thinks they're alive, but suddenly, the Capitol theme starts, and the Capitol symbol appears on the TV in the room.
"What's this now?" Haymitch groans.
"Hello. Good evening." Ceaser face appears as he greets the audience, "and a big welcome to all in Panem. I'm Ceasar Flickerman. And whoever you are, whatever it is you're doing... if you're working, out down your work. If you're having dinner, stop having dinner. Because you are going to want to witness this tonight."
"What do you think they're doing?" Finnick asks.
"No clue." Haymitch replies, eyes focused on the TV.
"There has been rampant speculation about what really happened in the Quartel Quell. And here to shed a little light on the subject for us is a very special guest. Please welcome Mr. Peeta Mellark."
"What the fuck...?" Haymitch scoffs.
"He looks well..." Finnick comments.
"Yeah, you know better than anyone how good the Capitol is too hide all sort of bruise." Haymitch says.
They pay attention to what Peeta's saying, he explains what happened, how he lost Katniss before the end.
"What do they want to do?" Finnick's confused to see Peeta like this.
"I don't know... maybe they want to destroy Katniss' image of leader...I don't know." Haymitch mutters, "or maybe Snow wants to destabilise her."
They fall silent again seeing Peeta referring to the camera.
"I want everyone who's watching to stop and to think about what a civil war could mean. We almost went extinct once before. And now our numbers are even fewer. Is this really what we wanna do? Kill ourselves off? Killing is not the answer. Everyone needs to lay down their weapons immediately. Or else that's it. For all of us."
"Peeta... are you calling for a cease-fire?" Ceaser checks.
"Yeah. I am. I want everyone to stop the senseless violence. This is not the path to change." Peeta agrees.
"What..." Finnick starts, alarmed, "what are they doing to them?"
"I don't even want to imagine." Haymitch groans.
"Now. Ladies and gentlemen... a special surprise." Ceaser begin to speak again, "you love her, she's part of everyone's family and now she's been entwined in today's speculations, but such misunderstanding will be easily wiped off once she gets to say her side. Please welcome our Princess, Y/n L/n!" He announces.
"What?" Finnicks stands immediately getting closer to the screen.
"Hello, Ceasar, long time no see." She brightly smiles at the host.
"Indeed, my dear." Ceaser takes her hand and kiss the back of it, "it's so nice to have you back here. Unfortunately, we're not here for our usual chat, are we?"
"No..." she says, sadly. Finnick gets even close to the screen so he can notice any detail possible. "But I think I can make some clearance on this whole situation, if you'll allow me of course."
"Look." Finnick tells Haymitch pointing at Y/n's hands, "look at her fidgeting."
"She's nervous... what about it?" Haymitch asks, getting close too.
"Look at it." Finnick repeats.
Haymitch then focuses on her hands, she's wearing rings and she is turning them left and right.
"There's a scheme." Haymitch breaths out, "she's sending a message."
"Yes, she is!" Finnick can't help but exclaim, "she is! My brave girl."
"You know that if they find it they will kill her." Haymitch warns.
"I know... she does too." Finnick goes back at looking at her face, she doesn't show any emotion except the ones she uses to fool the Capitol.
"I have to tell Plutarch." Haymitch walks out.
"As you could hear, all a misunderstanding." Ceaser announces, "It's great, let me tell you, you would've broken my heart."
"I could never!" Y/n fakes pity, "you're my favourite person!"
"Hear that! I'm her favourite person!" He laughs and takes her hands, "let's not make your future husband jealous now" he winks.
Finnick notices Y/n slightly tensing, he notices because he knows her, everyone else wouldn't blink an eye at that.
"Oh he knows he can't top you." She winks back.
"Now you flatter me, my ego is too big without all these praises." He smiles, "Alright, people of Panem, it's all for today. Have all a good day and stay tuned for more news!"
And with that the TV turns off.
"You're still fighting..." Finnick mutters by himself, relieved by seeing her on screen, "my brave girl."
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mistydragonflyart · 1 year
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MERMAY 2023 - OH WHAT A MOUTH
I can’t believe I’ve never drawn sharks for mermay until now, but better late than never and who better to draw than some old ocs. 
Anyways, happy pride month everyone!!
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yuukimiyas · 8 months
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ sweet disposition
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₊˚ෆ 1.0k words / sfw! / est. relationship / written w fem!reader in mind but can v much be read as gn!reader / proofread by my bff & word genius @/grimmjaws / super duper fluffy fluff for the dreamiest boy ever ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ a/n: this is so V self indulgent & self ship coded!! / based off one of my fave scenes from one of my fave comfort movies <33 / tyasm for bein so patient w me as i mustered up the courage to post this ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა your support means the absolute world to me! / now, w/out further ado! chloe's writing debut!
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yukimiya kenyū adored you. whether it was the sound of your laugh, the way you took your coffee, or the way you looked while going on & on about your favorite author, he adored everything, no matter how big or small.
but notably, his most endeared moments were the dates the two of you shared together downtown. getting up just as the sun rose in the morning to make it to your favorite coffee shop, or walking a few blocks to the record store you now call ‘yours’, or spending some time together at the park, or maybe side-by-side, taking turns reading passages from whichever covers you’d picked up that day, while the sun’s rays elevated your eye-color to something otherworldly – those times were yukimiya’s favorites. 
every date with you was no exception.
or, so he thought.
the day had started off a lot like those others. another all-day-date-turned-adventure where you’d both gotten coffee and flipped through an abundance of jazz vinyl (most of which you owned, but continued the tradition nonetheless), then left to roam the streets of a city you were so passionate about. when your footsteps came to a halt, yukimiya stuttered to a stop just in front of you, your sudden lack of movement making him turn and raise his brow.
“everything alright, darling?” his voice was smooth and sweet, every syllable coated in pure honey. the question dripped down your spine and your cheeks took on a much rosier hue as you faced him head on.
“come with me.” wearing a sickeningly sweet grin, you took the lead. you dragged yukimiya behind you for a few paces, unable to contain your excitement, until he caught up to you, footsteps in tandem. the familiar sidewalks crunched beneath your feet, then turned into blades of grass as you traveled through the park, passing by your usual spot. you lead him up a fairly steep hill, hand-in-hand, before eventually coming to a beautiful, well-loved ironwork bench. 
while the body of the arrangement used to be freshly painted, it was now a weathered black, flaking heavily near the metal arms, displaying how endeared the spot was to more than just yourself.
“alright, here we are - my favorite place in the whole city.” you turned, arms outstretched & smiled so wide that yukimiya was positive there was no sight greater in the universe, one that could rival how you looked in front of him just then. he couldn’t tell if it was the way your hair was blowing in the light, autumnal breeze, or the way your small giggles & excitable expression made his chest warm, but he was filled with the obvious & irrefutable love he had for you. it didn’t matter the reason, you were ethereal in every small moment you shared together. 
yukimiya thought he couldn’t possibly love anything more; more than soccer, more than modeling, more than every star in the vast sky – it was always you who proved him wrong.
you sat down, patting the empty space beside you, its cool surface an invitation. yukimiya could do nothing but oblige.
“so this is your favorite place in the entire city?” the tall, dark-haired man questioned. a soft smile was apparent on his picturesque features, and when you felt yourself staring for a little too long, you attempted to hide the blush covering your cheeks by looking forward.
“mhm. i randomly came across it one day a few years ago & have found myself drawn to it ever since. you see that roof over there? on the left? that’s the museum of natural history, one of the largest since its founding in 1869…” you continued. yukimiya watched you with rapt attention as you pointed to numerous structures and parking garages, explaining each bit of history that highlighted all of the parts that make you, well… you. 
fascinated was an understatement for the striker, and he did his best to give coherent responses besides a quick ‘yeah’ & various head nods, but he just couldn’t shake it. the pounding in his chest began to drown out the outside noises of passing individuals going on jogs, talking on the phone, and walking their dogs until all he could hear was you.
“i feel like they could have done more with the layout of some of the larger structures, but hey, i’m no architect,” you joked. blushing, you raked your fingers through your hair and gave a somewhat shy chuckle at your own statement. “i’m…sorry if i bored you at all! i know hearing all of this is probably less than riveting.” 
“no!” he rushed out, words overlapping the end of your statement by just a moment. “please don’t apologize. tell me more.” 
just like that, your eyes lit up & another gorgeous smile adorned your delicate features before you spoke again, cautiously optimistic, “really? because i totally get it if it’s too–”
“really. please, go on.” yukimiya’s words were gentle, tone liquid and smooth as his arm snaked around your middle. he pulled you close, letting you rest your head comfortably on his chest as you began to talk again. he could listen to your saccharine voice forever & he was absolutely positive no bit of information, too dull or too bold, could deter him from thinking so.
after you exhausted all of your favorite factoids about the city & its many tall stone and brick inhabitants, the two of you fell into a comfortable, almost soothing silence. the moment stretched on for a while before you let out a whisper - one that simply could have dissipated into the wind if not for your close proximity to each other.
“i was wrong.”
“hm?” yukimiya answered with a hum, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
“about this being my favorite place in the city,” you nuzzled into his frame as if it were humanly possible to be any closer than you currently were, “it’s my second favorite.”
“oh? why the sudden change of heart?” he inquired, his gaze never breaking away from the concrete horizon before him. he noticed it a moment later, how the city felt a little different now - more personal. it was as if every notion & bit of information you shared with him had opened up his eyes to a whole new perspective. admittedly, he was grateful for it; he cherished knowing the city better - you better. 
yukimiya knew in that moment, there, with you, that nothing else could possibly elevate the airy feeling of cloud-nine that he was already on.
and then you spoke.
“because my first favorite place in the city is anywhere i’m with you.”
fin.
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๋࣭ ⭑ seehaven © '23 / please do not copy/repost/translate anywhere! / all dividers by @/benkeibear <;33
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moonchild-in-blue · 1 month
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Thank you for the tag @tonguetyd! My spoons are indeed low but my sleep schedule is GONE so. Random burst of energy let's go.
I didn't know what artist to pick because I didn't want an obvious (?) one, so I'm going super niche and choosing Bright Eyes because it's been a minute since I've talked about them, and they're one of my favourites 💙
Artist: Bright Eyes
How do you feel: Nothing Gets Crossed Out
What is your gender: Bowl Of Oranges (obviously funny but also it's a beautiful song! poetic storytelling!)
If you could go anywhere: Lua
Favorite mode of transportation: Driving Fast Through A Big City At Night (yes that is the title)
Your best friend: First Day Of My Life 🥹
Favorite time of day: Sunrise, Sunset
If your life was a tv show: A Line Allows Progress, A Circle Does Not
Relationship status: I Won't Ever Be Happy Again 🥲
Your fear: Waste Of Paint
Idk who made this or not so I'm tagging randomly, no pressure to do this whatsoever! @dearscone @corviisquire @hookedhobbies @politemagic (hi!) @leonsleftbicep @melit0n
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cherienymphe · 6 months
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Everybody Knows That I'm A Good Girl, Officer (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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WARNINGS: Dub-Con, power imbalance, abuse of power, degradation, manipulation, slight stalking, choking, semi public sex, mentions of cockwarming, mentions of gun kink, dom/sub elements, free use elements, jealousy
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies
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summary: ...and everybody knows. Everybody knows...that he fucks you.
~
You didn’t know a thing about Coriolanus Snow.
Not until he quite literally cornered you in the meadow one day.
Peacekeepers came and went, especially in District 12, so you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any new face that appeared on the streets of your district in those blue uniforms. In truth, you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any of their faces. They all perfectly blended together into one faceless being that was merely a puppet of The Capitol, anyway.
However, standing in front Coriolanus Snow, you wondered how you missed him. Not because he was handsome—and he was—but because there was a hard glint to his blue gaze that told you he wasn’t the average capitol dog. Gun tight in his hand at his side, he stared at you like he wasn’t at all surprised to find you there.
He wasn’t.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to watch you, silent footsteps shadowing yours as he wondered what you were up to when you crossed the district line. He liked to watch you pick flowers and write underneath a tree and bring back the occasional caught animal for your ma and pa. He watched you play with the children in your district and help that old neighbor with her window…and steal food on occasions when your family couldn’t afford it.
“You could get into a lot of trouble for that.”
His tone was even and strong, but something about it told you that he didn’t want you to get in trouble for that.
“I know,” you told him, jutting out your chin as if challenging him to do something about it.
You said nothing, merely pressing your back to the tree when he moved closer, the gentle breeze ruffling the tall grass around his feet. You said nothing when he stood so close that you could smell him, wondering to yourself what a peacekeeper could possibly have access to that would make him smell so good. You even remained quiet when his free hand reached for yours, the softness of it shocking you, a sharp inhale when he turned your hand over.
Your palm was lightly stained from the bird you’d killed.
You curiously eyed him, a slight frown between your brows as he studied the skin. You drank in his prominent nose, full lips, and those unsettling blue eyes. Staring at them for too long actually made you uneasy, and when his gaze lifted to meet yours, you couldn’t look away fast enough. It only then occurred to you that you were out in the woods alone…with a peacekeeper who could do absolutely anything he wanted to you.
His next words surprised you.
“If someone other than me were to catch you…I can’t imagine what they’d do to you,” he murmured, making your frown deepen. “So, I would advise you to stop.”
By the way the corner of his mouth twitched, you knew that your shock and confusion was all over your face. When he dropped your hand, he pointed his gun at your catch of the day in a gesture for you to get your things, waiting for you to grab your dinner and your book.
You thought that he was letting you off the hook.
You thought wrong.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow was not a good man.
“Your daughter dropped these, ma’am, and I knew she’d kick herself if I didn’t bring these home.”
That smile on his pink lips was perfect, blue eyes twinkling when your mother thanked him profusely for bringing home your groceries—groceries you both knew you didn’t buy. When your eyes met his over her shoulder, that charming smile didn’t move an inch, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you felt.
“Thank you,” you told him the next day, seeking him out.
He wasn’t technically on duty, and you found your gaze lingering on the dog tag around his neck. However, you found your gaze lingering on his face instead when he took a step closer, gaze unreadable.
“Anytime.”
It was a strange thing to say about bringing you food that you didn’t buy, and when he took another step towards you, your face pinched ever so slightly. You were all too aware of your close proximity, and when you felt his chest lightly brush against yours, your lips parted in realization. The moment it clicked had your blood running both hot and cold, uneasy and conflicted.
As you stared at each other, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between you, Coriolanus with one hand on the wall and you with one hand fidgeting with your shirt. You looked between his eyes, looking for some hint of hesitation, some evidence that deep down this wasn’t something he actually wanted to do…but there was none. There was a resolve in his gaze that felt all too familiar. It was the same determination you were sure was in your gaze anytime you swiped food for your household.
The same determination when your desperation won.
You took a deep shuddery breath.
“Anytime…?” you wondered, keeping your eyes on him.
Something in his face relaxed, evening out as he completely crowded you, now.
“Anytime.”
When his lips met yours, you didn’t exactly know what to do, feeling both unsure and sure at the same time. You were sure that you wanted to live comfortably and not have to wonder how you’d get your next meal, but you were so unsure of how this would end and what this would mean for you. You wouldn’t be the first girl to give herself to a peacekeeper or the mayor or whoever else she needed to just to ease the weight in her chest.
Coriolanus kissed you like he was the hungry one, lips moving against yours in a way that left you breathless. His hand wouldn’t stop kneading into your waist through your shirt, and his other found a home on your face, thumb brushing over your skin and tilting your head back. The only thing to pull you apart was a noise coming from inside the building you were pressed against, and when the blond man told you to hurry home, you did.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked obedience.
He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed repeating himself, and you learned that quickly, so now when he told you to get on your knees, you didn’t hesitate. When he told you to open your mouth, you did, and when he practically begged you to look up at him, you did. Coriolanus would never beg, he would never do that, but it was evident in the way his voice strained—the way the words left him breathlessly.
Or maybe that was because you had your lips around his cock.
With a hand in your hair and a hand on your chin, he gently guided you to take him into your throat again and again. You were no virgin, but there were still a lot of firsts to be had for you, and sliding your tongue over the tip of him was one of them. The feel of his fingers massaging your scalp soothed you, made this less nerve-wracking, and to your surprise, it even stroked a slowly burning fire between your legs.
There was such a stark contrast between the gentle touch of his fingers in your hair and the harsh hold of his hand on your chin. It wasn’t the easiest to take all of him into your mouth, and you couldn’t swallow down the noise that escaped when he hit the back of your throat. His smooth baritone reached your ears when he gently shushed you, softly telling you to use your hands.
“Wrap them around me,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet room.
Coriolanus liked obedience…so you did.
Your hand slid along his length in time with your lips, twisting around his cock, an easy task with the help of the mess you were making. He didn’t seem to mind though, only groaning above you, and when you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, you took in the way his head was thrown back, the skin of his throat straining and bobbing as he swallowed.
When he lowered his head, you started to look away, but the tightening of his hand in your hair told you not to. You kept your eyes on his as best as you could, sucking your cheeks in and flattening your tongue against the side of his cock. Every bob of your head made him shudder, and you dropped your hand when his hands came to rest on both sides of your head.
Remaining still for the man standing over you, you kept your mouth open as he slowly began to push his hips forward. With every surge of them, his cock dipped into your waiting lips, sliding over your tongue and against the inside of your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he lost himself in his movements, blue eyes gazing down at you as he filled your mouth.
You didn’t know why—couldn’t understand it—but something about his outright use of your body and your lips had you squeezing your thighs together. It made heat settle in the pit of your stomach, twisting and burning violently until your not-so-subtle movements became noticed by him. In between his uneven breathing, a soft chuckle reached your ears.
“You’ll get your turn.”
…and he was a man of his word.
With the taste of him still on your tongue, Coriolanus had one forearm completely pinning your hips to the bed as he pressed his face between your thighs. Another first ripped away from you, wide gaze on the ceiling as you fought to keep from squirming. The feel of his tongue inside of you was jarring, and you couldn’t stop your toes from curling at the warm feel of it quite literally lapping at you.
Your hands came down to rest on his short blond hair, hips attempting to lift from the mattress, chest arching upwards towards the ceiling. When he hummed between your legs, you felt it all over, and you couldn’t stop the moans that climbed out of your throat. With him holding you down, the only appropriate thing to do was claw at whatever you could, turning your head from side to side.
It wasn’t enough for you to come into his mouth once. Coriolanus needed to know that he was the best you’d ever get, and even when you were out of breath and exhausted and overstimulated, he didn’t let your thighs go, only using them to drag you closer as he knelt between them. His perfect teeth winked at you when he leaned in to kiss you.
If your ma and pa wondered what kind of job you lucked out with to afford all of the food and clothes you started to bring home, they didn’t ask. Although, something in you suspected that they had an inkling of just what you had to do to bring home the freshest bread and the warmest clothes they’d ever had. You started to suspect that everyone did.
Coriolanus wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and you learned that he didn’t intend to be.
On the off chance you crossed paths in the street, he stopped you for all to see, voice lowering as he got really close and asked you how you were. You would feel the eyes of his peacekeeper friends on you as the unspoken questions lingered between you. Did you need more food? Did you need a new dress? You would tell him that you were fine, code for you didn’t need anything at the moment, and he wouldn’t try to hide his perusal of you, those unsettling blue eyes slowly dragging over your frame.
He didn’t seem the kind of asshole to brag about such things, but you weren’t stupid. Even without saying it, he made your arrangement abundantly clear. The way he talked to you, studied you, and ran his fingers over the back of your arm without a care as to who saw. Coriolanus had staked a claim on you, an unspoken display of ownership, and you wrote it off to some sick power trip.
…but you learned that Coriolanus Snow was a very jealous man.
That revelation struck you as odd because you didn’t think anyone would have anything he’d be jealous of, and you certainly didn’t think he’d be jealous over you. You were some average thieving girl whom he exploited the first moment he saw an opportunity to do so. Considering that he was willing to do it to you, you didn’t doubt that he was willing to do it to someone else should he find himself unable to have you anymore. That was what you believed anyway…
Until his fist was ruining the face of some District 12 boy you’d grown up with. You were far from friends, but he’d been a familiar constant in your life for years, and so sharing a drink with him while everyone danced to the live music on stage seemed like nothing at all to you. You didn’t even think there were lines to cross, a sentiment that was quickly corrected.
With one hand curled around your throat—holding you in place—there wasn’t any other option but to take Coriolanus’ thrusts. The sound of guitars and flutes and fiddles bled through the thin walls, everyone quickly moving on from the brief display of violence they’d witnessed. You could still remember the shock on your face as other peacekeepers pulled him off of the unsuspecting man who’d never been anything more than an acquaintance, really.
Your horrified gaze had met that of a familiar blue, and there wasn’t much time to do anything before Coriolanus neared you, reaching for the back of your neck as he walked you away from the crowd. It had been hard to ignore the numerous eyes following your movements, and you wondered now if they quickly moved on from the display because it was nothing or because they were too nervous to get involved with Coriolanus and the girl the whole district knew belonged to him.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out in some back room, your chest pressed to the table.
Your eyes were squeezed shut as he stretched you out, cock pushing into you and throbbing with every push of his hips. You knew that the words wouldn’t change anything, but you felt compelled to say them, anyway. His fingers were tight against your neck, and every time you reached up towards them, he only squeezed tighter. Despite the discomfort, you couldn’t stop your stomach from squeezing, coiling tight as you gripped him.
When he pulled you up so that your back was firm against his, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, and you took a deep inhale. His thumb was pressed to your jaw, and he brought his face down to rest on the other side of your neck where his arm didn’t rest, pressing open mouthed kisses there.
“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he whispered against your skin.
It was the truth, and at your silence, he squeezed your neck again.
Your nails scraped against the table he fucked you on, upper body straining as he kept you upright and against him, hips lifting to push his cock into you with the kind of thrusts meant to make a point. When his teeth grazed your skin, you shuddered in his hold, and despite the fact that you couldn’t hear his laugh, you felt it deep within his chest.
“He can’t give you what I can…”
You started to tell him that you knew that, but Coriolanus didn’t let you.
“…so, don’t go thinking he can.”
“I wouldn’t…”
Your words died in the air when he pushed you back down, completely pressed against you and pinning you between him and the table.
“Wouldn’t you?” he hummed, his free hand trailing over your visible cheek. “Everybody knows your price.”
The demeaning words made your stomach turn, but the way he curved his hips against you only had you clenching down on him at the insulting insinuation.
“They see the nicer clothes…the better living conditions…and they know why. They know what you did to get that.”
His lips brushed against your skin with every word, and as if it make his point, he reached down between your legs to brush his thumb over you, making you gasp. With the circling of his fingers, you fidgeted beneath him, toes pushed to the absolute tip to get some reprieve and lips parted as you scraped and clawed at the table.
When he came inside of you, something he never did before, he held you down, forcing you to milk his cock until he was completely satisfied. The nice dress he’d gotten sewn for you was ripped, and you reached up to touch it with trembling lips the moment he let you go. He was so determined to get his hands on you the moment the door was shut that you liked to think it was an accident, but the way you were forced to wear the jacket of his uniform as you walked out made you think otherwise.
Even though Coriolanus was nowhere near you once you rejoined the crowd, his presence was still loud and clear. No one needed to be a genius to figure out where you’d been, and as you glanced around, you realized that he was right. The discreet looks and nervousness around you… Everyone knew.
…and you didn’t know how to feel about it.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to have you whenever and wherever he wanted.
Whether it was in his bunk when he should’ve been on duty or in your room during the early hours of the morning when your pa was in the mines and your ma was asleep or between the openness of the trees when you were only amongst the grass and the birds. He didn’t like disobedience, and so, he didn’t like the word no. So, you never uttered it.
Even when you wanted to.
“Good girl,” he purred into your lips when you did as he wanted, reaching down between you and sliding yourself onto his cock.
It was late when he knocked on your door, gently telling your ma to go back to bed when you answered it. You didn’t know if you wanted to see the look on her face when you left with him, afraid of what you’d see. There was a rare stillness about District 12 when you crossed the district line, Coriolanus’ fingers brushing over your neck the entire way.
The only light was from the moon, his soft hands gripping your hips and guiding you over him. His gaze alternated between your face and his lap where you two connected. Occasionally he lifted his own hips, driving his cock up into you and making you gasp. His hands ran up and down your frame, kneading your skin and basking in the thin layer of sweat that clung to you—to both of you.
“Show me how bad you want it,” he’d murmur in the darkness, completely letting you go.
He opted for leaning back on his elbows, his own pink lips parted, blue eyes glinting under the light of the moon as he watched you fuck yourself onto his cock. Your hands pressed against his chest, keeping yourself upright as your lashes fluttered. There was a burn in your hips that ached too good to stop, the sound of you squeezing him and sliding up and down him loud to your ears.
“Make yourself come,” he’d whisper, refusing to touch you as his voice lowered. “Work for it.”
When you finally did tense on top of him, shuddering and pressing your nails into his chest, the blond man wouldn’t hesitate to circle his arm around your waist, flipping you before you could even catch your breath. Back pressed into the grass, he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the air.
Under the cover of darkness, Coriolanus allowed himself to lose control, holding your throat and pushing into you—taking full advantage of having you at his mercy. He plunged his cock into your walls, praising how wet you were for him and how snugly he fit inside of you.
“Whenever I want,” he told you.
“Whenever you want,” you agreed, nails digging into his back.
When you returned in the early hours of the morning, your ma never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged how the house stayed stocked with food despite you never going to the market. Her only acknowledgement of the clothes sewn for her were quiet ‘thank yous’…but she knew. Everyone knew.
…and it bothered you less and less until it didn’t bother you, at all.
It couldn’t bother you.
…because if it did you would have to say no when Coriolanus wanted you to rest in his lap, cock fitting snugly inside of you as he held you there. You would have to say no when he brought you another dress he had made or the freshest groceries you would’ve never been able to afford. You would have to say no when he asked if you were his good girl, demanding you prove it as he slid his gun between your legs, telling you to remain completely still.
…but you didn’t say no to any of that because it didn’t bother you—because it couldn’t bother you. Even when the discreet looks were hard to ignore or your ma started to ask if you’d be out late or you started to feel cheap and used. You couldn’t let it bother you.
You were his good girl, and that was what he told you when he tied a pretty delicate ribbon around your neck for all to see one evening.
It was soft.
White.
Just like snow.
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lollixp0p · 4 months
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The Video (18+)
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Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
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It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
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Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
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Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
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It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 
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Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
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3K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 5 months
Text
sit me on your throne.
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pairing: geralt of rivia x curvy!reader
warnings: i don't know what i'm writing about but if you're here for smut, there's smut. 18+ only. probably ooc - i've only seen season one. if i'm missing something that needs to be tagged please let me know.
words: 4.3k
notes: i really truly do not know. forgive me not.
thank you in advance for reading! any thoughts, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. let me know what you think. (unless its mean then pls don't).
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"You kneel before me?"
Your question is born of nothing but pure confusion as you tilt your head in bemusement at the bulking behemoth of a man before you.
He hadn’t done as much when he first arrived, not to your displeasure, so it was odd to see him do it now - especially after the battle he has just fought.
He is at your feet, his long white hair darker and dingier now, dirty as his clothes and skin; marred with caked mud and what you can only assume is the blood and guts of the beast he has defeated.
The stench he carries with him is pungent, nothing but putrid, and yet that somehow doesn't take from his striking good looks; those paired with his brevity and bluntness have held your attention from the moment he stepped foot in your kingdom.
He is a man of little words, this Geralt of Rivia. His jester of a companion having done much of the speaking - perhaps too much - for him since they arrived.
Geralt says nothing still, only meets your gaze as he takes steady breaths. His yellow eyes, feline and harsh, cut through you in a number of ways - none of which you'd care to share aloud. You have a feeling he knows, however, just how affected you are by him no matter how well you think you hide it.
You are alone together, no guards at the ready, no advisors by your side. Most of your kingdom is now quiet and abandoned, including the halls of your once flourishing and lively home. The halls of this castle have been eerily silent since the night your men went on their mission to save their homestead. You had already sent word for The Witcher, you implored them to keep safe indoors until his arrival. They did not listen. Most of them still having seen you as the young princess you once were, the others simply following the orders of their leaders. You may have been their "Queen", but their faith in their commanders was stronger.
Those commanders who led them to their deaths... You still sigh at the loss.
Those who were not taken, slain, by the beast have long since fled for their lives. You cannot blame them. But you certainly could not join them. Your castle once held many souls, but now it is only you and a handful of others. Titles of servants, but you really never were one for titles.
"Your friend?" you wonder.
"Somewhere," he answers shortly, his voice low and deep as he speaks.
You quirk a brow, "Safe?"
"For as long as he keeps himself from trouble."
You hum, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Their relationship amuses you, you must admit.
"You needn't kneel, Witcher," you implore as you sit back on the throne. It is yours in name alone. It has never felt right to sit in. He seems to sense your unease, but he doesn't speak it. You continue, "You have done what you said you would, I will do the same."
Still, he doesn't stand. Not until you flick your eyes and move to stand yourself. He rises easily as he stands before you still. There is not much distance between you, and the stench of him stings your eyes and threatens to gag you. Your face scrunches in disgust as you turn it away from him, grimacing.
"I've had a bath readied for you, and new clothes set aside," you inform him, moving to pass around. He follows you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes cling to you. "Your meals will be served as soon as you're done. I don't imagine anyone would be able to stomach a bite with that smell coming off of you."
He says nothing but lets out an amused "hm" at your words, still following as you lead him to the bathing room.
You thank Amaleah as you enter and she leaves with a nod to you, her breath catching when she smells Geralt enter behind you. It's as fast an exit as you've ever seen.
You move toward the bath and wade a hand in the water. It's a bit hot for your preferences but it should get him clean. You ensure the soap Amaleah brought in is fragrant enough and still look for some nicer oils to add to the water; when you turn around to ask your guest his want, you find yourself stunned silent as you're met with the sight of his broad, bare chest. His muscles flex under his pale and scarred skin as he moves, his solid chest is covered in dark hair, trailing down his torso. His arms are strong and big and a thought at the back of your mind wonders how comfortable he must be to lie with.
You blink, mouth parted slightly as you take a breath. You watch his clothing fall as he discards them and your gaze follows his hand as he begins to strip himself of the rest of his garments.
He is completely shameless as he watches you watch him. You feel as if you are in a trance, you cannot bring yourself to look away despite the heavy weight of his gaze assuring you he sees you staring.
It’s not an act of brazenness, truly you would look away and leave him at once…if you could.
“I’ve slain your monster,” he speaks and your eyes rise back to his chest, trying to ignore the heaviness of his thick cock as it hangs so temptingly before you. No, not temptingly…Shamelessly. He has put himself entirely on display before you, without an ounce of shame or concern, and you are still frozen to your spot. “Was there something else you required of me, Your Highness?”
The title gets your attention, the breath caught in your chest finally flows and your eyes flick up to meet his. You can't tell entirely if he meant it as an insult or if he thought you'd prefer it to Queen.
You remain quiet for a moment as you try to gather a response. Either way...
“I told you that wasn’t necessary, Witcher.”
“Geralt.”
You swallow hard as he takes a small step forward, and you will yourself to not break his intense gaze.
"Geralt. I thank you, for saving what was left of this ruined kingdom, but I consider myself not princess, nor Queen, any longer."
"Did you ever?" he asks, staring into your eyes a moment longer before he steps closer still, looking you up and down then nudging you aside, eliciting goosebumps along your skin, rising under his touch.
You glance over your shoulder as he continues past you, lowering himself into the tub.
You think.
You know your answer, but you won't say it aloud. Clearly he knows it, too.
You can hear the water sloshing with his movements as he begins to clean himself.
You take a deep breath.
"The clothes will be brought in shortly. You might tell Jaskier when you're done that the food is ready."
"Ah," he says amid his washing, "so you do know his name."
"Of course I do. I've grown quite fond of the bard in the week since you've arrived."
"I couldn't tell," he says plainly, yet still biting - his words sharp with sarcasm.
You furrow your brow at his meaning and then there's a laugh at the door and you look to see Jaskier as he leans on it. "You sound jealous, there, Geralt," he taunts, holding folded clothing in his hands as he pushes off the door to saunter in. "I wouldn't worry. I don't believe I'm the one who's caught her eye." He looks to you with a smirk, bowing before you, "Your Majesty."
"I am no longer queen," you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.
"My Queen, none the less," he simpers before standing to his full height.
You smile tightly, eyes narrowed playfully at him before you finally move to exit, leaving them to their inevitable quarreling. And trying not to focus on the tingling still affecting you between your legs.
--
You eat with the women in the kitchen; the dining hall one of your least favorite places to be.
There is a calm yet solemn energy around you all. A peace in the slaying of the monster who took your kingdom, and still the grief from the loss of it all, your people, their families, friends...
Calliope readies the plates for your guests as you bid them all a goodnight, kissing Amaleah's son on his head on your way out with a 'sweet dreams'. Since his father was killed, the poor thing has nightmares recurringly. You only hope with the monster's demise, they might ease for him some. He is far too young to be in such pain...
You think to pass by the dining hall on your way to bed to thank Geralt once more and wish them both a goodnight as well but think better of it.
You will see them in the morning before they set off. You still owe him his coin and you know he won't be leaving without it.
--
You open the heavy door of your chamber and once you are inside, begin to undress.
Slipping into your shift, you swiftly make your way into bed. You thought you'd fall asleep quickly, but as you lay there, your mind wanders to thoughts of only one.
You have one hand on your lower belly, the other resting on the soft skin right above it.
You sigh and close your eyes, but all you see when you do is his built form. His dark, firelight stare set on you. His clothes left on the ground as he stands strong in his glory.
You breathe deeply, your hand starting to slowly drift down your stomach as you tickle yourself. You're so tempted to touch where you want it most, but you can't bring yourself to do it. Not just yet.
You slip your hand between your spread thighs, softly running your fingers across the sensitive skin you find there.
It'd been a week of torment, having Geralt so close and not being able to act on your most base feelings. You know he knows what you think when you look at him, if Jaskier can see it, surely, he can too.
You might feel embarrassed but with the way he's managed to get closer and closer to you with each passing day as he awaited the beasts' return, you would wager he feels similarly.
It feels like an age that you lie awake. All the noises about the castle, not that there were many, have settled and it assures you everyone has retired for the night.
Sleep begins to nip at you but the stronger pull is to the dissatisfaction that weighs on you. The emptiness that echos through your body and soul.
Your fingers twitch, and you begin to glide closer to your uncovered core, the need to be touch too much to be ignored for much longer. Your eyes are closed and you imagine it isn't your hand running over your skin, but rather his large, rough palm feeling you, teasing you just so...
Just as you inch closer, your eyes snap open in the dark as a heartbreaking scream cuts through the night air. You sit up, pulling your hands off of yourself. You know immediately where the sound comes from and who it belongs to.
You get out of bed, intent to make sure Hartley and Amaleah both are okay.
You open your door just as the one across the wide hall does the same. You frighten at the unexpected movement but are then unsurprised to be across Geralt.
He is shirtless again, and his eyes are wide as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths.
"Are you alright?" he asks, voice hard.
"Yes, I'm fine. It was the boy, Hartley. He has nightmares," you explain, keeping your voice quiet as to not disturb the renewed peace of the night.
The flick of the flame that lights the hallway allows you both to see one another. You say nothing for a moment as your eyes fall to his bare torso.
"Did the clothes not fit?"
He looks down at himself briefly, then back to you. He shakes his head, "I prefer to sleep naked."
You burn at his words, swallowing hard. "Oh. Well, I- I'm going to check on them, make sure they're fine."
"I'll go with you."
It's not a question, it's a statement. You stop in your start, turning to look at him. You say nothing, just blink and quickly carry on as you were.
You make your way down the stairs and down the hall until you see the flames licking at the end of the hallway.
You follow the glow to Amaleah's room and knock gently as you look in the open door.
She turns and looks to you, her eyes tired and cheeks damp as she rocks her toddler in her arms. He is sleeping again as she rubs his back gently, more to soothe herself than anything.
She sniffles, "Your High-" she stops herself, "sorry, forgive me," she whispers.
"Don't apologize. Please," you implore her. "I know it's habit."
"Are you two alright?" Geralt asks from right at your back.
"We are, thank you. Just another nightmare," her voice gets thick at the explanation. You know it hurts her that there isn't anything she can do but be there to comfort him when they come.
You smile sadly and nod. "We'll let you be, then. Do try to get some rest. He'll be okay," you reassure her.
You pull the door nearly closed and wind up with Geralt firmly at your back.
You turn into him but he doesn't seem to mind as he just looks down at you nearly pressed against his chest. You try to budge him to turn and move back down the hall but he doesn't waver. After a second, he relents and steps to the side, allowing you to go back down the hallway first.
It isn't until you come up on the throne room that Geralt speaks again.
"Might I have a word with you?" he asks.
You stop and turn to eye him as he stands at the entryway of the door.
"Now?" you question.
He nods once, "Now."
You approach him trepidatiously, and as you near, he gestures you in the room before him, extending his arm, "Princess."
Your eyes narrow again. And you turn on him, watching as he enters the room behind you. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"What am I doing?"
"Princess? Your Highness?" you quote him.
"I assumed you preferred it to your true title," he tilts his head at you.
"True title," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "I prefer no title at all."
"And what shall I call you then?"
You remind him your name, not that he really needs to be reminded. You know he knows it full well.
He considers you, then closes in on where you stand in front of the throne.
You don't move back, no, you quite like the closeness when he doesn't reek of death and innards.
Geralt seems to appreciate your resolve, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile as he studies your face.
"It's a beautiful name," he speaks lowly, taking another step into your space and raising his hand to gently caress your cheek before he leans in to speak against your ear. Your hands touch his solid stomach in an attempt to keep yourself upright, you can feel the muscles as they flex under your delicate graze. "I think I might prefer princess," he husks.
He slips away from you, turning to take a seat on the throne instead. You follow his movements and turn yourself to face him. You're stunned and completely set ablaze all at once.
"Well I don't."
"No," he smirks, agreeing with you, one large hand settling on his thick thigh as he spreads his legs, "you don't."
"It's too bad," he tsks, his voice a smooth rumbling. "No title, no throne."
"I don't want any throne."
Your eyes are glued to his thighs as he brings attention to his lap by rubbing the muscle there.
"None?" he asks before his gaze shifts directly on you, his mesmerizing stare burning into you. His voice lowers deeper than you've ever heard as a desperate longing shoots through you once again, resounding deep in your core. "Not even mine?"
Your mouth goes dry and your brain fuzzy as you take in his meaning.
Unthinking, you step toward him closer.
"You mean to defile the very one you sit on?"
"You don't seem to care for it much anyway."
Another step.
You are nearly stood between his spread legs, carefully you reach out a hand, your fingers light on his thigh. You feel his muscle then, flicking your eyes up. His gaze is dark and heated.
"That's true enough," you say, your voice breathy in a near whisper.
You gasp as your suddenly pulled closer by Geralt's rough hands around your waist. You can feel him through the thin fabric of your shift and its only then you realize how much of your figure he has seen thanks to your nightwear.
"Truer still," he speaks, "I don't mean to defile this throne." He squeezes your plush waist, groping you through your shift as your hands latch onto his solid shoulders. "I mean to defile you."
He manages to pull you onto his lap with little effort, leaning in to crash his lips into yours.
You kiss him back hungrily, chasing his lips as you settle on his lap. Your fingers wind in his hair and you can feel his cock growing beneath you through the material of his pants.
His hands slide down your waist and over your wide hips, reaching for the hem of your shift and pulling it up. His tongue slips past your lips and you moan, shifting your hips atop him.
You pull away, reaching for your dress and pulling it over your head, discarding it behind your back.
Geralt holds you closer, letting his lips explore your heavy breasts as you allow your head to fall back in pleasure, your hands returning to his hair.
"Geralt," you breathe, pulling him off you after a moment.
"Mm," he hums, kissing the swell of your breast once more before he moves to free himself from the restraint of his pants. He knows what you’ve both been wanting for days. What you need.
One heavy hand returns to your back, holding you by your waist while his other grips his red, throbbing cock.
He moves his tip up and down your slick center, making you whimper as he teases you - his cockhead rubbing delightfully against your sensitive clit.
He watches your face scrunch in rapture and holds you tighter to stop your wiggling about as you whimper.
He smiles smugly to himself and when you're just about to open your mouth to protest his teasing, he finally pulls you down on top of him. The sound that escapes you is music to his ears as you grasp onto him, your nails digging into the muscle of his back as your walls squeeze and stretch to accommodate his thick length, the size of him almost too much for you to take.
"Fuck," he groans as your walls tighten around him. He gives you a moment before he begins to urge you to move. He guides your hips, slow and sensually. The feeling of his hands on you motivates you to try and ride him yourself. And you do try, but you cry out again at how big he is, how fully he is stuffing you. You can barely move.
Geralt kisses you as he holds you closer, taking pity on your tight cunt and instead he moves his hands to your soft hips again. He holds you on top of him securely before he begins to fuck up into you.
You mewl as he jostles you, bouncing you up and down his cock, your breasts moving in time.
You pull on his hair, forcing him to look up from where his gaze was fixed, watching his own cock as he stretched you out for him, watching as your cunt took as much of him in as she could, up to your hooded lust filled gaze. You lean into him, chest to chest as you kiss him fervently. His lips follow yours as you taste one another. You nip at his lip and he growls, his hands gripping the ample flesh of your ass, "Keep that up," he snarls.
"And you'll what?" you breathe heavily, eyes screwed shut, jaw tight as you deadbrain on the pleasure coursing through you.
Your answer is a harsh thrust of his cock inside of you, stealing your breath while he slaps your ass, your flesh stinging from the force.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper debauchedly, your velvety walls squeezing him ever tighter as you feel yourself growing closer with every bounce. The tip of him hitting exactly where you need it to. Your body is on fire and you are loving every second of it. The feeling of him inside of you, of his hands squeezing and caressing you everywhere he can, of his lips demanding yours for more.
His grunts are growing louder and his thrusts more powerful, you kiss him hard in an effort to quiet him some, but you can feel what is coming.
Geralt is near slamming you down on top of him, the sound of your ass slapping against his thick thighs mix with the salacious sounds coming from you both and of your slick wetness as you're worked up and down his shaft, your cunt taking him better and better with each thrust.
Your hands move to hold his face, your noses brush as you breathe each other's air, lips touching just slightly.
"Geralt, I'm,"
"I know," he pants harshly, concentrated before taking your lips in his. You whimper pathetically as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. He keeps you moving a top him, your clit being stimulated with every brush of your hips over his, and then with another deep thrust it snaps before you can speak. Your voice is an empty high then silent squeak as your legs tremble and your eyes roll back. Are you even breathing? Your walls clench down on Geralt's cock and he finally allows himself to reach his own high as your tight walls flutter around him, squeezing him perfectly. You ride the waves of ecstasy as his come spills inside of you. You feel him shudder beneath you and it only adds to your feeling of weightlessness, stars in your eyes as you feel, think, breathe nothing but him.
You part from his lips and your bodies are slick with sweat as you both pant heavily. Geralt holds you to him as he softens inside of you, his forehead pressed to yours as your hand comes behind his neck, holding him to you in kind.
Your lips mimic a kiss but neither of you lean in close enough to actually do it. You work to catch your breath and settle for a minute before you finally break the quiet.
"Do I still owe you your coin?" you breathe, smiling when Geralt laughs in your face. You reach to move a stray strand of hair from his face, holding his cheek gently once you do.
Your stare into one another's eyes for a long moment, just breathing and being close.
"Where will you be off to in the morning?" you ask, hoping your solemn tone isn't as audible as it sounded to you.
"Don't know," he shakes his head, eyes straying to your lips.
You take a breath and pull his face closer to kiss him softly.
"I envy you, you know."
"Don't."
You huff a humorless laugh, readjusting yourself on his lap. "Not because you're a witcher. You may not have the most enviable life, but at least you have one. I've never made it past the most exterior gates," you smile sadly, playing with the hairs on his chest as you avoid his eye now.
"I suppose I'll have the chance, now, though. Thanks to you."
"And where will you go?" he asks.
Your gaze floats up to his and you repeat his previous answer. "I don't know. But I won't stay here. This kingdom is..." you shake your head. "I don't belong here. Never felt like I did. But I made a promise to my mother when I was young, and another to my father before he passed. I know I've let them down," you swallow the rise of emotion threatening to overcome you, "but alas, the fall of a kingdom is ever inevitable. Especially under such rule as my own."
"I've heard word of your rule from many. You're known to be kind. Caring. Protective, even. I don't believe you've failed. I think you were exactly the kind of ruler you should have been, who you needed to be. But perhaps it's a good thing you won't be forced any longer into holding power you don't desire. You're now free to do as you wish."
"I am," you nod lightly in agreement. "If only I knew where to start,” you muse with an uneasy laugh.
His hand runs up your back comfortingly; he's pensive, deep in thought for a long moment before he speaks.
"If you ready your things, I don't think Roach would mind a travel companion of her own. She seems to have taken to Belfast… I'm not sure she'd be ready to part with him so soon, anyway."
"Is that so?" you ask him, faux curiosity playing in your voice.
"And Jaskier is easier to take when I'm not the only one he has around to bother."
"Right," you nod, fighting your soft smile.
"And of course your coin would be useful as well."
"Of course," you exaggerate your agreement. "…Geralt, are you getting at something here?"
"Just that, if you want to join us…you might."
You lean into him again, thumb rubbing along his stubble lining his cheek, and this time he kisses you first. More gently than you expect. You can’t help your smile now.
You part lightly and breathe,
"I hope you mean that, Witcher. Because I just might."
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
part one | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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mclqren · 2 months
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CAR TALK ★ LS2
PAIRING ✦ logan sargeant x fem!youtuber!reader
SUMMARY ✦ on your youtube channel, you post q&a's in your car, and your most recent guest has people speculating about the two of you. [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
NOTES ✦ reader lives in america for the purpose of this fic. i know the car doesn't like the same in all of the pictures but that's the best i could do ahaha. the fc i've used is kiana davis, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by emmachamberlain, yourbsf, and 582,899 others
yourusername first 'car talk' episode of 2024 is pending...🏎️
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user1 the weekly episodes of car talk have been severely missed this winter vacation.
user2 SO REALLL i've been needing y/n back on my screen
user3 she is actually so perfect it's scary
user4 idc we needdd a car talk x chicken shop date crossover asap
yourusername @/ameliadimz thoughts??
ameliadimz we can look into this 👀
user5 OKAY BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CAPTION?? THE RACECAR??
user6 she HASSS to be interviewing some f1 driver.
emmachamberlain YUMMYYYY
yourusername 😍😍
yourbsf MY BEST FRIENDDD!!
yourusername ALWAYSSS
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liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 552,110 others
yourusername 'car talk' ep 1 of 2024 coming this saturday 👀🏎️
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user8 IT'S DEF A F1 DRIVERRR THE SHIRT IS A DEAD GIVEAWAY
user9 oh ABSOLUTELY
user10 her facecardddd oh my gosh
user11 been missing your videos queen!
user12 okay but like which f1 driver do we think it is??
user13 crazy thing is she has like five or six of them following her/in her likes right now, so it could technically be any of them
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liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, and 622,110 others
tagged logansargeant
yourusername 'car talk' ft logan sargeant out now!! one of my favorite episodes i've filmed so far ❤️
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user18 WOWWW IT WAS LOGAN THE ENTIRE TIME??
user19 I KNOWWW
user20 yall's chemistry was through the roof. i was sweating just watching the episode
alex_albon 👀
user21 LMAOOO ALEX WHAT DO YOU KNOW
logansargeant Best driver/farm animal expert/youtuber 🙌
yourusername yessirrrr ❤️
user22 HELP NOT ALL OF Y/N'S PROFESSIONS
user23 he had to make sure he got all of them in
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liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 100,298 others
tagged yourusername
logansargeant Thanks again to the crazy lady who drove me around the city, almost killed me in the process, asked intrusive questions about my life and took me to visit a farm. Had a blast 🏆
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user24 HIM CALLING Y/N OUT FOR HER DRIVING HELPPP
user25 why do i actually kinda ship them...
user26 no ur so real for this.
yourusername you're so welcome!! ( i'm at ur door for mentioning my driving abilities )
logansargeant I'LL TAKE IT BACK SORRY
alex_albon 👀
user27 HIM COMMENTING THE SAME THING ON BOTH THEIR POSTS I'M CREASING
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liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 533,002 others
yourusername brb, currently escaping to dc 👋
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user29 why is she the most perfect girl everrrr
user30 LITERAL MODEL.
user31 logan has now taken his spot as permanent liker of y/n's posts
user32 is it just me who wants to see logan & y/n together again??
user33 NOT JUST YOU!!
logansargeant Maybe you should come down to Florida sometime??🙌
user34 LOGAN SHOOTING HIS SHOTTT
user35 @/user34 or they could just be friends?? 🤷‍♀️
user36 @/user35 let us be delusional please.
yourbsf photography creditsss??
yourusername yes yes all to you!
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liked by logansargeant, emmachamberlain, and 544,110 others
yourusername back on the move ✈️
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user40 RIGHT BEFORE THE SEASON STARTS ASW??
user41 i smell a bahrain visit!!
user42 okay but her hair is my most favorite thing everrr
alex_albon 👀
user43 MR ALBON BACK W THE EYESSS
user44 WHAT DOES HE KNOW.
logansargeant 🙌❤️❤️
liked by yourusername
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logansargeant Bahrain ✔️ Girlfriend ✔️ Mission Accomplished ✔️
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user47 "mission accomplished" THE PLAN HAS BEEN BREWINGG
user48 FINALLY MY FAVSSS
user49 crazy car guy x even crazier car lady is my new favourite trope
user50 SO REAL FOR THISSS
alex_albon already knew this'd happen 🤷‍♂️
logansargeant So you've mentioned!!
user51 he's been trying to help yall out AS HE SHOULD.
yourusername be glad i didn't kill you that time i took you driving, otherwise you never would've gotten to ask me to be your girlfriend. ❤️❤️
logansargeant Thankful every day 🙏
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tagged logansargeant
yourusername new car talk episode incoming this time with my BOYFRIENDDD 🥳🥳
user52 THEY'RE THE CUTESTTT
user53 she looks so happy omg
user54 if you hurt her logan we're all after you. 😁
yourbsf so im a third wheel now??
yourusername nahh he can third wheel us bbg 😉😉
lilymhe ANOTHER FEMALE IN THE WILLIAMS PADDOCK THANK YOU LORD
yourusername i'll make you my latest car talk victim 😍
lilymhe sign me upppp!!
user55 im sensing a double date car talk incoming
user56 'the eyes, chico. they never lie' @ logan in the second picture
yourusername @/logansargeant LOOLLLL WISHING I MADE THIS THE CAPTION
logansargeant My fav ex-farm employee ❤️
yourusername still prefer the sheep to you ❤️❤️
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2K notes · View notes
wonustars · 3 months
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𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ?
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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!
𖦹 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!
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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.
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© 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!)
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yeosgoa · 26 days
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10:11 • ғᴇ̀ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇʀ (NSFW)
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♡ assistant!Hongjoong x witch!afab!reader
♡ academia, witch, smut
♡ WC • 3845
♡ Warnings!! (tags) • Sex potion, witchcraft, swearing, kissing, praise, spit/drool, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, handjob, titjob, blowjob, manhandling, fingering, creampie, breeding, lactation, multiple positions, anal, knotting, semi-public sex, mutation, vampirism, reader wears long nails, reader has fangs, reader is implied to be shorter than Hongjoong. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)
♡ A/N: this isn't proofread, will do sometime in the future. féconder means fertilizer/pollinate in French if I'm not mistaken. Any French speakers feel free to correct me.
♡ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ
ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀
 The rain pattered on the window rather heavily. You and your assistant, Hongjoong were in your school’s greenhouse, while you finished up on your latest potions and he read to you.
   “It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?” Hongjoong recited, pacing slowly back and forth behind you. The novel ‘Dracula’ is in his right hand while his left hand rests behind his back. His glasses perched right on his sharp pointed nose as he tilted his head to the side continuing. “She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I th-”
   “Yes come here, business,” You interrupted right then, beckoning him over. Hongjoong placed a ribbon in between the pages before closing the ages-old novel. He walked over to you until you were side by side, and he looked down at you.
   “Yes, darling?” He raised a brow a bit, watching as you poured a yellowish iridescent liquid into a rather small goblet. “What's this?”
   You handed him the goblet, looking up into his eyes, “it’s supposed to suppress arousal.” You inform, turning back to the pot where you grabbed a bottle to store the rest in.
   “It’s supposed to make me not horny?” He clarifies, looking intently at the potion. You nod in response, “Exactly.”
   “How long is it supposed to take effect?” Hongjoong takes a smell of it, it smells of Gingko Biloba, Red Ginseng, and Yohimbe. There’s also a dollop of a poppy scent in there too. “I’m not sure, we'll just have to see.” You reply, watching the rain pour outside.
   Hongjoong takes a swig, swallowing the potion that felt rather thick in his throat. The taste itself was bitter but sweet. He could get past it.
   “It tastes like…like-” “Anti-horniness?” You turn your head a bit to notice a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Very much.” He answers, smacking his teeth. “What purpose was this for by the way?”
   You paused, thinking about it. Truth be told you actually weren’t sure why, but you could list reasons as to why. “Hmm…” You trailed off. “Maybe for uh… people who struggle to keep it in their pants? I don’t know. People who struggle with sex addiction?” Hongjoong nodded slowly, “I guess that could make sense.”
   There was a comfortable silence passing for a few minutes before Hongjoong felt his slacks tightening. Was this supposed to happen? He believed not, the potion is an arousal suppressant. He opted to keep it to himself, figuring it would go away quickly and that this was just a part of the process.
   However, more minutes passed, and Hongjoong’s breath grew heavy as his slacks suddenly felt twice as small. He let go of his novel and looked down at the floor. “...Y/n?”
   “Yeah?” You kept your eyes on your own spell book, skimming through pages without actually reading them. Your back was faced towards him, bent over the counter. His eyes fell on your ass which your long, tight godet skirt shaped perfectly. His breath hitched, his skin growing hot.
   “I… I don’t think this is a suppressant, Y/n.” He states. His cock is visibly hard, fighting against his slacks.
   “What do you mean, Joong? I-” You turn around to see the view. His cheeks flushed red, visibly sweaty under the layers he wore. His hands gripped the counter, and he gulped. “R-Read that spell again.” He stutters.
   You grab the spellbook, turning back to the page where you followed the steps to create the suppressant. Looking at the header you creased your brows. “Joong, it says aféconder, that’s a suppressant.” You say, feeling bubbling in your stomach. Hongjoong felt his stomach tighten himself, he shook his head. “No… it can’t. Let me see the book.”
   He leaned over and grabbed the book, skimming over the page with a deep sigh. “... oh Y/n…” he closes his eyes, placing the book back down. “Y/n, this is féconder. The ‘a’ was a stain.” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away from you.
   You felt your mind slap you right across the face, and you rested your head in your hands, propped on your elbows. Your hands ran across your face, and through your hair, as you let out a soft but low groan. “Sorry, Joong,” you whisper, and you feel his hand rake up your back. “There has to be a way to reverse it, right?” he mutters, his voice huskier than usual. 
   “There’s no spells in this book that could reverse it, I believe.” You reply, flipping through the spellbook. “But… but we could try something else…?” You suggest, turning your head to look at him.
   “Like…?” He trailed off, brows creased. You turn to fully face him, and hesitantly you reach for his trousers. “We could do this the natural way…” you whisper, not wanting to make it awkward.
   Despite Hongjoong’s obvious distress, he looks at you with an unsure look. “We’re in public, Y/n,” he says, looking around the greenhouse.
   “But no one’s around, right?” You also look around, the rain had gotten heavier, and the doors to the greenhouse were closed. It was just you, Hongjoong, and the plants, along with the dim lights inside.
   Hongjoong gulped, feeling the knot in his stomach twist more before he nearly whined. “Please help me…”
   You didn’t waste time, he looked miserable. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers, then unclipped his suspenders. Your long, black French almond nails raked against his stomach, making him tense up. Hongjoong looked down at you as you cupped his painfully hard bulge, his eyes then fluttering shut as you rubbed him with your palm to at least soothe him.
   He let out a sensitive whimper. His hand then grabbed your jaw, pulling you up as he swooned down for a kiss, encasing your lips in his. At that moment your hand squeezed at the wet bulge in his underwear, feeling the beads of precum against your palm.
   With your finger hooked onto the waistband of his black underwear, and with one swift motion, you tugged it down to his midthighs. Pulling away from the kiss you cupped your hand under his lips, making him spit all his excess drool into it before taking his leaking, wet cock into said hand.
   Hongjoong whimpered again softly. Hair was already sticking to his sweaty forehead due to how strong the aphrodisiac was. He felt like he could cum untouched, but at the same time, it felt as if everything was holding itself in. The tip was drooling and deep red as if irritated, and as you started to pump his cock into your hand you could feel the veins on his shaft pulsating. You looked up at him, his pretty pink spit-covered lips slightly agape. He breathed like he was making noises, but only small broken whines and deep breaths left him. Certain strokes elicited no noises at all, his chest tightening and making him freeze, breath caught in his throat.
   Your eyes visibly dilated at the sight. He’s so pretty it hurts. You’ve taken note of your long-time friend, who was also your assistant’s beauty before, but you opted to keep the relationship platonic. This… is platonic, right? Having his pretty cock in your hand as he silently begs you to take care of the problem you caused him with your stupid mistake. Your honest but dumb mistake. A part of you was lowkey grateful about your unconsciousness though, because then you wouldn’t be here so close to him, seeing the drool dribble down his chin and eyebrows creasing in pain and pleasure. You could feel heat pool at your core, slick dripping onto your panties.
   “You alright, pretty?” You cooed softly, your free hand cupping his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a subtle nod, whining like a bitch in heat. The noise made your clit throb, your hole clenching around nothing. “You’re so pretty, Joongie..”
   You picked up the pace, running your thumbpad over his slit every time your hand got to his cockhead. You made sure to let your long nails brush against his full, purple-hued balls, and occasionally you would swoop down to massage them for a few seconds before coming back up and pumping his shaft again. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Your hand that was once on his shoulder went to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
   Hongjoong slid his tongue into your mouth immediately. You could taste the bitterness from the potion when your tongue slid on his, forcing it into his mouth and running over the roof. Both moaned into each other’s mouths, and you grabbed his jaw, pulling back to spit in his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed it without hesitation, his hands trembling as his grip on the counter tightened.
   Your grip on his cock tightened. Your fingers felt every vein pulsate under your touch, and the shaft twitched. Your thighs shut against each other, and the hot slick gushed out your hole onto your panties, making a wet spot. You could feel a weighed pool, the aphrodisiac now in your system since you kissed Hongjoong.
   Eventually, you let off and unbuttoned your black Lolita-styled dress. Crossing your arms your fingers pinched at the shoulders of your sleeves, pulling them down until your breasts were exposed. Leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw you grazed your fangs down his neck, undoing his button-up and taking it off him. Hongjoong’s skin was covered in sweat, red and hot to the touch. His nipples erect under the caress of your hands, the buds feeling hard enough to hurt without any stimulation.
   Lifting your skirt you kneeled before him, making him lean against the counter for a better angle. You pulled off the rest of the top of your dress, bunching it to your waist as you unclipped your bra as well. Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at you.
   “W-What are you doing now?” he stuttered, watching you drool onto your tits. You look up at him and his lost expression, shaking your head. “Helping you, Joongie,” you mutter, rubbing your saliva over the valley of your mounds. Your hands running over your nipples make you moan, your cheeks heating to a pink flush. Hongjoong stutters out incoherent babbles, and his words are caught in his throat when your tits encase his cock between them, your mouth sealing around the cockhead. Hongjoong’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, drool falling and directly hitting your tits. 
   You start to move, tongue swirling and gliding up and down his slit and tip, the salty, pearly beads of precum leaking into your tastebuds. Your hands hold firmly onto the sides of your boobs, guiding them up and down his shaft as your mouth goes to work on the head. Hongjoong’s shaky hands move from the counter, one raking up to move his wet hair and the other firmly seated on your head.
   “Y/n,” He moans out prettily, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, focused on making him feel good while also trying to relieve him of the rather painful aphrodisiac. You moan softly around his cock, the vibrations of your hum making his balls tighten. Hongjoong whines out a pathetic “mm’ sorry-” before grabbing your head with both hands and shoving his cock down your throat. Your tits drop out of your hands and you choke a bit, taking a deep breath through your nose as he thrusts rather soppily, creaking out little ‘sorry’s and ‘please’s back to back. His voice cracked a couple of times, whimpering out your name. You grab onto his thighs, nails digging into the sides of them.
   Your chokes and gags on his cock echo throughout the greenhouse. The rather humid heat inside makes you yourself sweat as your hair sticks to your forehead and cheeks. You swallow around his cock, his head rubbing against the wet, plush oropharynx. 
   “G- I- gonna- gonna cum Y/n. m’ so close m’ gonna c-cum,” he whines, his thighs tensing up. He unintentionally pulls on your hair, making you whine out as tears sting your eyes. Your teeth nearly bite down on his cock, the slight graze making him stutter his hips.
   ‘F-Fuck do it again-” he whimpers. You suck and graze your teeth again over the veins of his cock, and without warning he spills into your mouth. You pull off, choking. His hands move to his cock, jerking desperately as his cum paints your face and hair. You squirm on your heels, your heels digging into your ass. You open your eyes and watch the last of his cum leak out, and you felt your nipples swell at the sight. Like before Hongjoong now grabbed your jaw, spitting whatever aphrodisiac he had left into your mouth. You swallowed, it was fair game.
   Getting up onto your now aching feet you let your dress pool at them, leaving you in your lace white panties. Both of you breathed heavily, your head against his chest as your arms ran down his biceps. His hands cupped your ass, pulling down your panties as he pressed his knee against your cunt.
   You whimpered, his knee rubbed against your clit before he lifted you up, sitting you down on the metal counter. The heat made you wince, sucking your teeth. 
   Hongjoong gave you no time to adjust, he hooked his arms under your knees and dragged you to the edge, opening your legs up for him. “H-have t’ fuck you,” he muttered, his cock still rock hard despite cumming seconds ago. 
   Your eyes met, irises fully taken up with dilated pupils as if you two were cats. You whimpered, and he spit on his hand, gathering your juices as he slid his hand up and down your slit. He entered a ringed finger into you, the cold silver eliciting a hiss from you. Pulling out he entered a second finger, both his ring and middle fingers curling up inside you. His fingers weren’t all that long but it felt so good. He managed to find spots inside your spongey walls that you hadn’t touched without having to go deep inside you, he was skillful in this as much as he was skillful with his large grand piano that he composed his music with.
   Hongjoong’s cock rubbed against the metal counter, the hot metal sending shivers down his spine as he felt his cock swell.
   When you had enough, you pulled off his fingers, grabbing his waist and pulling him to you. Hongjoong got the memo, slapping his wet cock onto your clit a few times before slowly inserting himself into your hole, making both of you let out loud gasps and whines. Hongjoong was average, about five and a half inches, but you could swear that when he went inside you you felt him grow to at least seven, or eight. His newfound girth stretched you out deliciously, and his manicured, painted nails raked against your thighs. Tears pricked at both your and Hongjoong’s eyes. He sniffled, his nose turning a shade of pink.
   “Fuck,” You whispered, laying against the counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting a couple of stray tears fall. Your gummy walls fluttered around him a few times before he started to move. His hands went to your swollen tits, fondling and massaging them. His palms were sweaty and covered in cum, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples turning the hard buds to an irritated shade of red. 
   With every languid thrust, he hit deep inside you, balls touching the rim of your puckered asshole. The squelching noise of him moving inside you along with the soft claps of his balls against your ass made you feel lightheaded. Your assistant sniffled again above you, hand moving down to your waist as he started picking up the pace of his thrusts.
   Your hands moved to your fluid-covered face, covering your teary eyes as his cockhead hit into your cervix snuggly. You sniffled, opening your eyes to look up at the man above you, rutting into your pussy like a pup in heat.
   “You feel so good,” He sniffles, swallowing down whatever pathetic sound he may produce next. His head is thrown back, then falls forward as a babbling whine leaves his lips. “Wan m-make you feel g-good Y/n.”
   He sucks on the two fingers he used inside you before and rubs them on the rim of your ass before gently pushing inside. You gasp, moaning out loudly as he starts to move them rather languidly compared to his thrusts. The feeling of his cock hitting the right spots inside you quickly and his fingers in your ass going slow made you micro-orgasm, clenching around him as the genuine knot started to build in your tummy. “J-Joong-” You whimpered, before fluttering around his cock as you came, legs tensed up and wrapped around his waist. “Fuck it feels so good,” you sniffle again.
   Pulling his cock and fingers out you quickly sat up, shoving Hongjoong to a nearby discarded chair. You stumble off the counter, holding his shoulders as you open his legs, and hike a leg over his lap. Grabbing his face you stamp your lips against his once more, sinking down onto his cock. Despite just being connected the stretch makes both of you moan into each other's mouths, Hongjoong letting out a guttural, broken cry.
   You started to hump your clit against his pelvis, but that soon turned into bouncing heavily on his cock. The sound of wet slapping skin resonated loudly throughout the greenhouse, along with a now sobbing Hongjoong along with you. The rain attempting to drown out your sounds was almost futile, your head spinning and ears ringing. You didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down his shaft at his own pace.
   “Joong!” you cry out, holding the top rail with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers tight enough you were sure it would cause bruising tomorrow. Your ass collided with his thighs harshly, causing red marks to appear on your plush and flushed ass cheeks.
   Lifting you and slightly hurling you over his shoulder, Hongjoong held your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he began pistoning up into you. You moaned at the sensation of being filled, physically feeling your womb protrude out from your stomach.
   Sitting you back down on him you started to bounce again, rather sloppily this time. Your lips formed in a pout as you whined, hums being produced every time his cockhead met your cum filled cervix.
   “D-Don’ wan’ stop,” you murmured, lips pressed against Hongjoong’s sweaty forehead in a sloppy forehead kiss. His black dilated eyes were glued onto you, tears also running down his cheeks. 
   You began grinding in circles, smothering his cock inside you. You both moaned out sweetly, fangs digging into your bottom lip drawing blood. Hongjoong reached upward, grasping your bottom lip with his teeth as he suckled on the blood. His tongue ran over your bottom lip before pulling away, looking up into your eyes. You started to bounce again, feeling your second orgasm impending.
   “all over y-your cock, Joongie,” you babble, your swollen lips blabbering nonsense as you clamp down onto him, the heavy bounces building up again.
   “Cum, please cum,” you whine, holding your orgasm back. “W-wan it all inside me.”
   Hongjoong started thrusting up again, syncing up in time with your bounces. It didn’t take much, as he started to spill inside your cunt once more, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckled, and as you let go, milk flowed freely from your erect nipples. Hongjoong moaned at the sweet taste, lapping it all up.
   You shivered at the sensation, and Hongjoong pulled away with a pop as he flipped you over, bending you over the counter. With a smack to your ass, he entered your pussy from behind, grabbing a hold of your hair. “C-can’t stop-” he sobbed, pounding into you with no sign of slowing down any time soon. “Gonna keep cumming inside your fucking pussy.”
   “Please,” you whined, shutting your eyes. Your leaking tits raked against the metal counter, painting it a transparent white with your milk. Hongjoong’s hands sneaked from behind you, reaching around to grab your tits. Squeezing them, he pulled you up against his chest, his pelvis meeting the sore, red skin of your ass. Nonstop was he cumming again and again back to back. Your womb visibly protruded, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wrapped one arm around your tits, the other snaking down and feeling at your tummy, feeling the way his cock slid up and down inside you. 
   You came again for a third time without warning, legs shaking. Your eyes rolled back to the inside of your head, and a fourth came on when he didn’t stop.
   “O-oh- oh fuck!” Hongjoong cried, stilling inside you. You fell forward, grasping the counter. You felt his cock literally knot inside you. It grew in size and locked in you like a key. Cum filled you to the brim, you felt like you could vomit from how full you were. Hongjoong was shaking behind you, and he fell forward as well, arms caging you. 
   He whimpered softly, sniffling. Heavy pants and sniffles were shared between you as the last of his cum was milked from him. He finally started to soften, and slowly pulled out of you as your minds went back to being levelheaded. His cock departed with a soft, wet pop, and loads of cum pumped out of you in what felt like gallons onto the floor below.
   “Gosh…” He breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Your legs trembled, and you, exhausted, kept yourself laying forward on the counter.
   “S-So full,” You murmured, the last of his cum spilling out before your womb felt relieved again. Your skin cooled down, the aphrodisiac starting to wear off on the both of you.
   Hongjoong gently scooped you up and sat you down into his lap, as you both regained clarity. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, closing his eyes.
   “Thank you,” He murmured softly.
   “I'll be careful next time,” you murmur back, taking deep breaths.
   “Yeah, make sure it's afèconder, not fèconder.”
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
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cheolism · 7 months
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✧ CAUGHT IN A TRAP
✧ choi seungcheol x f!reader ✧ summary: you ask your brother's best friend to tie the top to your swimsuit. he's convinced that you've lured him into a trap and acts accordingly. ✧ wc is approx 4.5k ✧ tags: brother's best friend-to-lovers?? close proximity ✧ warnings: mdni. mentions of groping and luring!! grinding, oral and fingering, dick-in-vagina sex, overstim. cheol's dirty mouth, pet names (princess, baby, good girl, etc). begging, slightly mean cheol. this is basically all tension and porn. possibly morally questionable cheol? lmk if you think any should be added. ✧ author's note: first fic in a month! i've begun and quit so many fics in the past few weeks and this is the first one i've been able to finish. so i'm satisfied!! this is just desperate porn. this takes place during the summer so it is very out of season lol
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"seungkwan," you call, opening your bedroom door just enough to peek out of it. you don't see your brother in the hall, so you call again; hopefully, he hasn't left for the lake already.
seungcheol appears before you can call for a third time. he's -- well. he's choi seungcheol and he's dressed for the lake, long trunks and a tank top that's somehow both too tight on his torso and just right, revealing his thick biceps and straining over his chest and making your eyes drop to trace the shape of them.
"seungkwan's already down at the dock," seungcheol answers, glancing at his phone. he looks back at you, lifting one of his thick brows at how you're poking only your head out. "everything okay?"
you can feel heat rush to your face. you refuse to look at his face, but then your eyes immediately drop back down to his chest and you can't look there because that would make you a huge creep, so you drop your gaze even further and it goes to his ankles.
"i need help," you mumble, "i can't tie the back of my top."
seungcheol's quiet and you refuse to look at him and repeat yourself. it's horrible. you think about him imagining you, the top of your swimsuit dangling around your shoulders and tits hanging out, and you slide the door shut just a little bit more.
"i'll just text seungkwan and tell him to come back up," you say, voice quiet with embarrassment. you shouldn't have even told seungcheol. he wasn't judging you out loud but seungcheol was -- he was perfect. he was the perfect man, the man you've dreamt about for as long as your brother's known him, and you're so overly aware of how you look to him -- of how he sees you as some silly little sibling to his dear friend, and you've just made yourself seem even more like a little kid.
"no need," seungcheol responds. his voice is deep, and you flick your eyes to watch him slide his phone into the pocket of his trunks. "i can tie it for you."
your eyes widen and your mouth drops a little. "no thanks!" you squeak, shutting the door entirely. "i'll just -- i'll just wear a shirt down!"
seungcheol laughs on the other side. he knocks against the door. "let me in, silly." he knocks again. "it's just tying a swimsuit."
right. it's just tying a swimsuit while you stand there, half-naked.
"no," you whine, "i'll really just --"
"let me tie your top." seungcheol's voice has taken on a more serious tone, the sort that he gets when he's trying to command a room.
you're quiet for half a minute, biting down on your lip and pressing your forehead against the door. it's just tying a swimsuit top, like seungcheol said; he just sees it as helping out his best friend's little sibling. but also, it's choi seungcheol, the man who inspires more crushes than he could ever be aware of, and you don't know if you can handle the mortification that comes with him seeing you like this.
but then, quietly, in the hopes that he'll miss it, you agree.
"let me in," he returns.
"just a second," and then you're moving from the door. you push your open suitcase behind the bed so he won't be able to see how your stripped underwear sits on top, and you kick your dirty clothes underneath the bed.
you reach behind you, grabbing the strings of your top and pulling them taut so your tits don't hang out. then you open the door, just a smidge. "hurry!"
seungcheol chuckles as you slam the door shut behind him. "it's just a swimsuit," he says, eyes twinkling. and he's so handsome, his dark hair hanging around his face and lips twisted in a smirk. it's so ridiculous, and you don't know why seungkwan ever introduced you to seungcheol because surely your brother knew you would end up like this.
(surely your brother knew that when he introduced you to seungcheol and mingyu and wonwoo but mainly seungcheol that in three years' time you would be standing with seungcheol in a bedroom in a lodge, turning so seungcheol could tie the strings to your top.
it was all seungkwan's fault.)
slowly, you turn your back to seungcheol. "quickly," you urge him. "we gotta hurry."
seungcheol scoffs at you. your body is so alert that you can practically feel every step he takes, that you can picture seungcheol crossing the room. when he grabs the strings of your top his fingertips skim along your back, and you can't help but jump.
"we're not going to get in trouble," seungcheol says, pulling the strings from your grasp. "we're both adults."
"can you imagine what seungkwan would say if he saw you leaving my bedroom when the door was closed," you hiss, bringing both of your hands to your front and crossing them over your chest. seungcheol's fingers slide against your shoulder blades and then he's beginning to tie your top, and you can feel every pull as he tightens them. every single movement seems to jostle your heart, seems to alert every single cell in your body to seungcheol's fingers. "forget kwannie -- can you imagine soonyoung? or jihoon? they'd tattle."
"they'd tattle," seungcheol laughs. "we're adults. if you're so worried we should've just left the door open."
"so someone can pass and look in to you tying my top?" you say, shaking your head. "no thanks."
the strings pull once more, and then seungcheol is tapping your shoulders. "finished."
"it's tight?" you say, turning over your shoulder to look at him. "it won't come undone?"
seungcheol tugs the knot he made. "nope. we'll have to cut you out."
you grin, turning to face seungcheol. "thanks."
"wasn't so hard now was it?" seungcheol smirked down at you, lifting one of his thick brows. you hate it when he looks at you like this -- hate it because a single lift of his brow sends a tingling rush through you, one that shoots straight down to your cunt and makes you feel electric. "you were worried over nothing."
it's then, watching as he lowers his eyebrow but that smirk remains, that you realize just how close the two of you are. seungcheol had stepped close to you so he could tie your top and hadn't moved away. that meant that when you turned around there was hardly two feet of space between you.
and fuck, when you became aware of it you became aware.
his wide shoulders, the way his skin -- lightly tanned by the sun, as if even the sun had a crush on seungcheol and couldn't bear to burn his skin red like it had jihoon -- tightened around his biceps when he raised his arms up above his head in a stretch.
as he stretched you couldn't help but let your gaze flick back over his body. you were ogling him like he was some prize but, horribly, you couldn't help it. you couldn't help but take in the sight of his pecs, of how his nipples poked through the fabric of his dark tank top. the slight curve of his tummy, how he hadn't tucked his tank top into his trunks, and how the shirt rose as he stretched, revealing just a sliver of skin.
his neck, wide and thick, and his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and side, angling his face up towards the ceiling as he stretched.
seungcheol was like a flame, passion running through his veins. and like a moth, you couldn't help but reach.
you weren't even thinking. not a single thought was in your mind. it was as if your brain went offline, leaving nothing but your heart and the want that left little tingles in your cunt to command your body.
and you were reaching and placing your hand over his collarbone. his skin was smooth beneath your fingers, and you couldn't help but swipe your thumb over his skin, watching as your thumb moved.
then seungcheol's hand was shooting out and grabbing your wrist and your brain came online.
mortification shot through you. your brain began to go into overdrive as you gawked at seungcheol as if he had been the one to touch you unsolicited, as if he had been the one to press his hand to your skin and feel.
"i --" you began, a thousand thoughts shooting through your brain and yet not a single one leaving your lips. you can't speak. you can't because you just -- just groped choi seungcheol. "wait -- i --"
seungcheol cocks his head at you, brows lifting and you can feel -- despite the situation at hand -- more tingling in your pussy. "oh. i get it now."
"i-- get -- what?"
seungcheol grins at you, cherry blossom pink lips quirking. he moves closer to you, though there hasn't been that much space between the two of you to begin with and wasn't that where this entire problem started, so why was he getting closer?
"you were luring me in here," seungcheol announces, walking closer and closer and you begin backing up, straight into the wall opposite to the door. "i was just a passing fly you caught in your trap. is that right?"
your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to go. you're gawking up at seungcheol, feeling as if you were the fly in his trap. "what -- what are you talking about --"
"you wanted me to come in," seungcheol says, still grinning down at you. "you were pretending you needed your top tied. you were pretending so you could get me in your room, door shut. you were pretending so you could grope me."
your mouth fell open with an audible click. "i -- i didn't! seungcheol, i promise i didn't!"
seungcheol laughs at you meanly. he moves your hand, the one that, horribly, reached out and groped him, and presses it above your head and against the wall. he crowds closer, his other hand sliding along your jaw to cup your cheek. "you planned this."
"i didn't," you say, voice going quiet due to the lack of space between the two of you. "i was searching for seungkwan."
"you were," he mocks, and he's so mean. choi seungcheol is so mean. "you've got me in your little trap, baby. what are you gonna do with me?"
you wonder what the fuck he means. seungcheol's the one who's got you against the wall, he's the one with your wrist in his grasp.
seungcheol's eyes flick down. he's taking you in, you realize; he's admiring you.
"i've trapped you," you echo weakly.
seungcheol's eyes return to your face. "you have," he responds. "now what will you do with me?"
you lick your lips. your bottoms are soaked, you realize. you can feel their dampness, can feel the heat trapped between your thighs.
"i -- i've trapped you," you say, slowly, testing out each word. "i better -- i better use you, then."
"use me?" he says, cocking his head. seungcheol's eyes are sparkling, and you realize that he loves this. "how would you use me, baby? what would you do to me?"
your brain goes blank again. "uh. i'd -- i'd kiss you?"
"kiss me," he's grinning now as if you're amusing him. his thumb slides along your cheekbone. "is that it? you've got me in your hands for you to fuck around with and all you'd do is kiss me?"
"wanted to," you say. "i've wanted to kiss you for a while."
seungcheol's smile softens, and he's moving his hand from your cheek to press it next to your head on the wall. he's caging you in, and you're trapped between his arms, but you don't feel it. you don't feel like a trapped moth frantically looking for an escape.
shyly, you carry on. "i guess i'd -- if i had you, if i was going to use you -- i'd make you uh --"
"make me what?" he says, and he's enjoying it so much.
"you know."
"i don't," he says, brows raised. "you gotta tell me, baby. what do you want to do with me?"
you can't look at him. so you slide your gaze from his face and rest it on his collarbone. "i'd -- i'd sit on you."
"sit on me? that it?" seungcheol brings his face close, and his nose is against yours. "just sit on my lap? wouldn't do anything else? don't want to do anything else with me?"
you can't say it, so you shake your head.
seungcheol clicks his tongue. he trails his nose over your face, breath hot against your face. "okay. let me tell you what i'd do. if i had you in my trap i'd kiss you. kiss your cute little mouth, kiss your chin. kiss your throat, kiss your pretty tits. i'd kiss your tummy and i'd kiss your sweet little cunt -- i bet it's so pretty, princess. bet you have such a pretty little pussy."
you gasp, and his mouth is over your lips. he's not kissing you, but his lips are pressed to yours. you can feel them move as he speaks. "i'd have you take my cock," he carries on, each word sending heat and electricity to your pussy. "if i had you trapped i'd fuck you so good, baby."
you agree. you think of it, of seungcheol pressing his dick -- you just know he's big, know he's big and he'd feel so good around your cunt. you think of it and shift, feeling the wetness of your swimming bottoms.
"so?" he asks.
"so?"
seungcheol laughs at you. "would you let me trap you, baby? would you wander into my little trap and let me fuck you?"
"yes," you say, and it's the easiest thing you've ever said.
seungcheol kisses you. he immediately devours you, immediately traps you. seungcheol moves his mouth with intent, covering yours over and over and over, kissing you as if he had been wanting it, yearning for it.
you can't help but get lost in it--in him. his hands move from your wrists and to you, one of his hands sinking into your hair to guide you, his other going to wrap around your body and hold you close to him. he wants you, you think; wants you, wants you so desperately that he wants to mold your bodies into one.
your arms get trapped between your bodies, but you take the chance to press your hands against his chest and feel his body as he moves against you. it's not like you have the wits to do much else. with seungcheol's mouth devouring you, owning you, you can't do anything else than try and catch your breath between every eager press of your lips, can't do anything else than just stand there and let him take you.
seungcheol moves his tongue into your mouth, and that's when you break away. you gasp against him, trying to catch your breath, trying to focus. seungcheol moves on. he travels from your mouth, skimming his lips along your chin and jaw before going to your neck.
his hands move as his mouth does, and he's settling them on your hips and guiding them flush against his. you can feel his dick, can feel him as he mouths at your neck, never staying in one place, as if he would go crazy if he didn't press his mouth against every inch of you.
"seung--" you pant, your hands digging into the fabric of his tank top. he groans, a strangled noise against your skin. you try to speak again, but then he's skimming his teeth along your skin and you can't help but let out a high, keening whine.
he grins against your skin. "that's it, princess," he murmurs, "gotta me loud for me. gotta show me you really want it."
you groan, obedient, when he begins sucking at your neck. seungcheol works his mouth over you, sucking bruises into your skin.
"tell me," he commands, pressing his nose against your jaw, "tell me you want it."
"want it," you return, letting your head rest back against the wall. seungcheol moves his mouth back to your neck, and then he's running his lips along one of the strings of your swimming top, mouthing at it as if he was reminding you of how scantily clad you were. "want it, cheol, want you."
he hums. "tell me," he carries on, as if your words had no effect. "tell me you trapped me. tell me this was all part of your plan, baby."
you want to whine and protest, but then he's ducking his head and nipping at the exposed skin of your tits and you immediately give in. "it was," you whine, "i -- i trapped you, cheol. wanted you, want you so badly, cheol."
when seungcheol lifts his head, he's smirking. he presses you flat against the wall, mouth returning to the curve of your neck. seungcheol licks against your skin, drawing a noise from your mouth, just as he thrusts his leg between your thighs.
"too bad i caught onto your little plan, princess," he taunts. "i should turn around and walk out, shouldn't i? just leave you here in your room, all wet and desperate."
you whine, moving your hands against him. you run them over his pecs, over his shoulders. 
"don't," you beg, unable to keep your voice from going high in desperation. "please, seungcheol, please --"
"please what?"
"fuck me," you beg, wanton yearning seeking its talons into you. you wanted, wanted so desperately. he was all around you, surrounding you; you could feel the taste of him on your tongue, the feel of his skin beneath your hands. but it wasn't enough. you wanted him inside of you, wanted to feel him within. "please, please fuck me --"
"prove it to me, baby," he says. "prove it that you want me. show me. show me, precious."
he presses his knee up against you, shoving it underneath your cunt. "ride me," he commands, "ride my thigh, princess."
you immediately bare down on his thigh. you angle your hips so your clit is rubbing over his thigh through your bottoms, and the relief feels so good that you can't help but let your head fall back against the wall. seungcheol immediately takes advantage, pressing his face against your chest and mouthing at your tits, hands gripping your hips and guiding.
your nails sink into his skin. you fuck down onto his thigh, chasing that feeling that tugs at your cunt. it's as if you're mindless, as if you had been born just to fuck yourself against choi seungcheol's thigh.
and you ride him like that. ride him as if it was your one mission in life. your mouth falls open and he quickly covers it, licking into your mouth. "that's it, princess. gotta cum on me, gotta prove you want me."
"want you," you beg, "please, cheol. help me, want you so badly, cheol, please please --"
he curses. seungcheol pulls away from you completely, drawing a loud noise of disapproval from your mouth.
but then seungcheol's hands grip your hips, and then he's pulling you from the wall and spinning so he could push you back onto the bed. as soon as you fall he's on you, his mouth -- already red from the force of his passionate kisses -- covering your skin, frantically moving from the curve of your tits to your stomach to your bottoms.
seungcheol's hands go to your thighs and he's parting your legs. you don't even have a chance to get shy before he's mouthing at you through your swim bottoms, licking a broad stripe from your cunt to your clit.
your responding moan is loud, and you don't even have the presence of mind to try and cover it. seungcheol licks over your bottoms, pushing his tongue against them as if they weren't there at all. you're completely wet, you're soaked, it's as if you had gone down to the lake after all, but it's just from your cunt and you wonder if he's going to drown in it.
but you ride his face nonetheless; you move your hips as he works his mouth, chasing him, chasing that tongue of his. you can't help it. there's something desperate, something animalistic inside of you and it's taken over, and you can't help but wrap your thighs around his head and beg.
seungcheol slips his fingers into the bottoms, moving them aside. he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips before he's latching onto your clit, sucking and sucking, and it's like something releases inside of you and you're cumming, thighs tight around his head and fingers twisting in the seats.
instead of giving you a moment to gather yourself seungcheol continues. he laps at your clit, laving his tongue over it, while he maneuvers his fingers against your hole. "be good for me," he says, breath hot against your cunt. "be good and prove to me that you want my dick, baby."
you nod, breathless, and he slides one of his fingers inside of your cunt. immediately you're clenching down on him, and he responds with a curse. seungcheol doesn't stop; he continues to lick at your cunt while feeds his fingers into your cunt, one at a time, spreading them out and preparing you for his cock.
you're electric. forget the moth and the flame. it's as if seungcheol's ignited something in you and you're buzzing with it. you just want more and more and more, and you don't even realize you're begging for it.
eventually, seungcheol pulls from your cunt. his face is soaked. he's smirking, though, and his eyes gleam as he pulls his tank top up and off. seungcheol lets you gawk at him, lets you look. and you really can't help but look.
you take in his pecs, his broad shoulders. his brown nipples and how they pebble in the cool air of your bedroom, his stomach. you can't help but be in awe of him, of the softness of his body and how it covers his strong muscles, and your cunt tightens around nothing.
seungcheol laughs at you, and then he's pulling your bottoms. you raise your hips off of the bed and let seungcheol pull them off and drop them onto the floor. he slips his fingers into the waistband of his trunks before they, too, drop to the floor.
he's beautiful, you think. he's completely bare before you, his dick large and straining, and he's absolutely beautiful.
seungcheol moves back onto the bed, slipping his hands underneath your thighs and moving them up. he presses them to your chest, and when he's close enough you can't help but thread your fingers through his hair and bring his face to yours. you kiss him, sliding your mouths together.
he grins against your mouth. seungcheol moves one of his hands, running it along your thigh before pressing his palm to your cunt. "you've trapped me, baby," he whispers, and then you feel his cock press against your pussy.
"please," you beg, fingers tightening around his blonde locks. "please cheol."
seungcheol guides his cockhead so it's against your entrance. but then he stops. he pauses, eyes flicking over your face. you can't help but feel frustrated; all of this playing and here he is, about to fuck you and stopping.
"seungcheol," you whine, wiggling against him in hopes he'll take mercy on you. "please, seungcheol. want you so badly, please, please!"
he hums. he's got a flush on his face, but he's trying to appear unaffected. "i don't know, baby. don't know if you really want it."
you let out a sob. in the future maybe you'll look back on this movement with shame. in the present, however, you feel tears spring to your eyes and you tighten your grip on his hair, bringing his head down so you can press desperate kisses to his face.
"please," you sob, pressing a kiss against his mouth. "please, cheolie. i -- i want you so bad, want you to fuck me, please, please --"
when he finally slides in he does it all at once. seungcheol fucks his cock into you in one swift movement, sheathing himself to the hilt inside of your cunt. you can't help but cry out, back arching and fingers digging into his shoulders.
it hurts, faintly. it's not an acute pain, but instead a dull ache of your cunt stretching around his cock. it goes away rather quickly, and then you're bucking your hips up against him.
"good girl," he whispers, and then he's withdrawing. he draws back until just the tip of his cock is at your entrance, and you can't help but be on edge -- every single neuron and electron in your body is on fucking edge, waiting, anticipating --
and then he fucks back into you, his balls slapping against your cunt. you let out a loud moan, uncaring of the noise. he does it again, drawing his hips out quickly and sheathing himself in a hurried movement. seungcheol fucks you deeply, quickly, and harshly.
he fucks you like a man depraved, like a man desperate. as if he had admired you all this time just as you had him.
every thrust drives you up the bed, every thrust making his balls slap against your pussy, each thrust accompanied by the loud slaps of skin and skin and the wet squelches from your cunt. you'll be sore in a matter of hours but you don't care. you don't care, not when he's fucking you so deeply and fitting so perfectly inside.
"good girl," he chants, slipping his hands behind your knees and keeping your thighs against your chest. he uses his grip on your body to angle himself, and the next time he thrusts into your cunt he's hitting that gummy core inside of you that makes your lips curl and your eyes squeeze shut.
"pretty girl," he carries on, thrusts punishing. "pretty girl with her pretty cunt, so fucking wet 'n warm, so fucking good for me, made just for me --"
"for you," you echo, a loud, ugly sob coming out. "you, cheol -- yours, you -- for you, for you --"
seungcheol curses, and then he's cumming inside of you. his cum is hot and there's so much, and he fucks into your cunt, fucks his cum into your pussy until his dick is soft and he's wincing.
seungcheol moves. his dick slips out of you but before you can miss it, before you can miss him, he's returning to your pussy. seungcheol slaps his hand against your cunt once, and then he's thrusting his fingers against your clit harshly, rhythmically.
"such a good girl," he growls, thick brows furrowed. "good fucking good, taking me so good -- good girl, pretty girl. all mine, all fucking mine."
he slaps your cunt again and you cum, and it's like a thunderous wave has plunged over you. you can't hear or see, and you don't know if you're even breathing. but you're cumming and cumming and cumming, and his hand is working furiously at your clit and you don't know if you'll ever stop cumming.
seungcheol is still moving his fingers against your clit when you come to. he's moving them slowly, softly, guiding you back down from that high. his large eyes are taking you in as if he's trying to memorize how you look before him.
you meet his eyes; you smile.
and then he grins so brightly that you just know.
he's got you in his trap.
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3K notes · View notes
itostea · 6 months
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rings (gojo x wife! reader)
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in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list
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There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 
“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”
“On the same bed?”
“Yes?”
“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”
“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”
“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”
“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”
“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”
“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”
“That’s not really my way of doing things…”
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”
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You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”
“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”
“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 
“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”
“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 
The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”
He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”
All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”
“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”
“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 
It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 
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“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 
He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”
“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 
You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”
“Because I just can’t!” 
“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 
“I can’t ‘Toru–”
“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”
You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well
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It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 
It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 
“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
tags:
@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot
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coupsie-daisies · 5 months
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Kinktober '23: Breeding | Choi Seungcheol
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader (established)
Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023
Summary: You and Cheol had talked plenty about the future, but nothing could have prepared you to see his huge frame cradling a tiny baby and the absolute reaction you'd have to it
WC: 2.5k
Warnings: Seungcheol with a baby, very baby-centric breeding, baby fever hits Reader like a train, breeding, unprotected sex (obviously, I'm not even gonna apologize for this one), fingering, Cheol goes feral, talk of having kids, Seungcheol runs his mouth, petnames, Daddy kink, reader is referred to as a mommy like once, multiple orgasms, slight body worship, praise
A/N: Let me know if I missed anything in the warnings and, of course, I hope you enjoy!
Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1
Main Masterlist
Kinktober '23 Masterlist
This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited
Maybe going to your friend's house with Cheol was a bad idea. Maybe visiting Joshua and his partner to finally meet their baby was an experience you weren’t altogether prepared for. It had been a few months now since their little boy had been born, and you had only seen him through pictures and facetimes, wanting to give the couple a bit of space to settle into the new dynamic.
But now you were sitting on their couch, trying desperately to have a conversation with your friends while being distracted by the little swaddled bundle cradled carefully in your boyfriend's arms. The delicate little thing, pudgy cheeks and drool running from his lips that Seungcheol delicately wiped away, all fragile and peaceful against his chest. You were always aware of how handsome Cheol was, how hard he worked to keep his physique, but it wasn't something that had ever fully sunk into your psyche until you saw the way his biceps looked with something so tiny sleeping on them.
A voice caught your attention, a gentle call of your name, and you looked up, a little shaken from how deep in thought you'd been.
"Do you want to hold him?" Cheol asked, nodding to the sleeping infant in his arms. Your face split into an adoring grin, and you nodded eagerly. The care with which your boyfriend handled him was enough to make your heart skip in your chest as he carefully transferred the baby into your arms. The boy fussed a little, and you shushed him gently, swaying back and forth until he was sound asleep again.
The others continued talking, but all you could think about was having one of your own. Maybe a little girl, one with Cheol's eyes and your nose. A family where the two of you became three, a unit that always took care of each other.
When the two of you got home, Cheol dragged you to the bedroom, pulling you close and cuddling up to you in the comfort of your bed. You curled closer, letting him trace your arm quietly.
"What's on your mind? You've been in your head all day." He asked you. You hummed thoughtfully. You and Seungcheol had talked about it before, having kids, but you had never fully planned anything. You were still so young, and you hadn't fully settled on whether or not you two were ready to take that step.
"I'm thinking about Jaehan." You said, finally turning your attention back to him. "He's cute don't you think?"
"Yeah, he's adorable. Looks like his dad." He said. You nodded, propping yourself up on your elbow.
"Keep thinking about how natural you looked holding him. Didn't really know that it would be so...attractive seeing you hold a baby."
Seungcheol hummed, placing a large hand against your hip to pull you onto his lap. You looked down at him, smiling brightly at the sight of his dark locks in a wavy halo around his head.
"You think I looked hot?" He asked, a playful tone creeping into his voice. You rolled your eyes.
"I said it was attractive. I kept thinking about how maybe one day you'd be holding our kid, I guess. You'd be a good daddy." You said, your hands smoothing aimlessly across his chest, up, along the curve of his shoulders, then down his arms and back up again.
You watched his eyes darken, his hands moving to rub gently over your tummy.
"Could be sooner than later if you want." He said, eyes still trained on your stomach, imagining how pretty you'd look round with his child growing inside of you. Some primal, desperate part of him was awakening at the thought. A part of him tying itself to a part of you and giving you something to share and teach and care for. He was already starting to harden underneath you at the thought.
"Do you mean that?" You asked seriously, your hands stilling against his chest. "Because I don't want you to do something you're not ready for. Don't just want it to be an excuse to fuck me."
He softened for a moment, guiding your face gently towards his to capture your lips in a warm kiss.
"I promise I mean it. Want to have a family with you, wouldn't even think of lying about that. Let me do that, please." He kissed you again, his kiss just as desperate and sincere as his words as he flipped the two of you over so you were laying underneath him. You melted into the kiss, your hands tangling into his hair to hold him close as if he'd disappear if you didn't.
His tongue teased against your lips, coaxing you open for him and drawing the sweetest whine from your throat. He pulled away after a bit, breathless and flushed. He sat back, stripping your shirt off with ease, then letting his follow.
"Gonna take such good care of you. You and our baby," He hummed, leaning down to press a string of wet, warm kisses to your chest, along the swell of your breasts, and down until his lips could wrap around your nipple, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed, and his hands stroked along the curve of your waist, holding you in place so he could switch to the other side and give it the same gentle treatment.
You weren't a stranger to having Cheol worship every inch of you, but this felt different. It was heavy and warm and nearly suffocating in all the best ways, anchoring you to each other and letting the rest of the world fade into blank space. He slid lower, kissing down your sternum, along your stomach until he reached the space just above your panty line. He looked up at you then, a large palm coming to rest against the spot.
"Gonna grow our little one right here. Gonna fill you up so full, make sure it takes. Do it over and over until we're sure." He mumbled, kissing your lower stomach again before tugging your panties down your legs and leaving you bare beneath him.
You were already aching, thighs wet with your arousal. Seeing him so wound up at the idea of you carrying his child was doing things you had never imagined. He pushed your thighs wider apart, hungry eyes burning into the sight of your dripping core. He brought his hand down, thumb swiping through your wet folds before nestling against your clit, pressing heavy, slow circles against the bundle of nerves.
"Fuck," You keened, thighs twitching, but he pressed his free hand against one of them, continuing his work. "Cheol, please. Need more."
"I got you baby, don't worry. Know just what you need." He promised, speeding up his movements and making your head fall back against the pillows. He slid his fingers down, pressing his middle finger into you and pumping it slowly before he added a second.
He was good with his hands, never having any problem getting you worked up or stretching you out with his fingers alone, and this was no different. You watched the way his brows furrowed, his lips curling into a concentrated pout while he worked his fingers into you, curling them to find your weak spot and continuing to grind his fingertips into it when he felt it.
You were breathless, squirming and gripping at the sheets as he fucked you slowly with his fingers. Your sounds were nearly incoherent, just breathless whines and gasps of his name as he milked your first orgasm out of you. He praised you all the way through it, his hand never stopping as you coated it in your wetness. Once the waves of your orgasm subsided, he pulled his hand away, reaching up to slip his fingers into your mouth and watching as you obediently sucked and licked them clean of your cum.
"That's my good girl. Doing so well for me. Deserve to feel good." He hummed, standing up to kick his pants off. His cock stood at full mast, the tip leaking and flaring pink. He stroked himself slowly, just admiring the way that you were sprawled out for him.
He quickly settled himself between your legs again, and you welcomed him just as eagerly. He pressed the head of his cock against your hole, and you whined when he didn't move.
"Baby, please. Don't tease me," You huffed, and he chuckled leaning down to capture your lips in another long kiss as he rolled his hips forward, filling you up in one steady thrust. Your walls clenched around him, adjusting to the way he stretched you out, and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands found his waist, nails digging into the sensitive flesh and reveling in the way he hissed out.
He stayed buried inside of you for longer than you would have liked, but soon enough his hips were rolling, dragging out before punching back in and stealing your breath away. You never got used to how well he fucked you, how perfectly he fit inside of you and hit spots you could only hope to reach on your own.
"So perfect, taking me so well." He praised, his hands settling on your hips and pulling you to meet his thrusts. The only sounds in the room were the slick sound of your pussy sucking him in, and the soft sounds shared between the two of you.
"Cheol, 'm close." You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you focused on the warmth running through you, the tension pulling tight in your stomach and the way his thrusts got harsher at your words.
"Go ahead, pretty girl. Cum on my dick, lemme feel it." He grunted out harshly, his head rolling back as your walls clenched around him, trying desperately to keep him inside of you. Then you were gone, trembling underneath him as your second orgasm hit, a silent moan parting your lips. He continued fucking you through it. He didn't stop even when you came down from your high, chasing his own pleasure.
"Cheollie, please," You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, dragging your nails over his broad shoulders. "Want you to cum. Need to be full. Please, Daddy."
He moaned, full and from his chest, his thrusts becoming harsher, less calculated, and then he was burying his face in your neck. His breath hitched, a broken moan of your name, and a sloppy kiss against your neck followed as he spilled inside of you.
The moment after was filled with heavy breaths and the sweetest kisses to your shoulders and collarbone. Finally he pulled out, looking down at the way that his cum dripped out of your hole. He huffed a little, reaching down and using his fingers to stuff it back inside of you. You whined, hips jolting a little from the sensitivity.
"Gotta make sure it stays in so it sticks. Gotta get you knocked up." He said, but it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, voice gravelly and barely audible. Then he was tugging at your hips, flipping you over. You let out an indignant squeak at how easily he maneuvered you around, hiking your hips up so your weight was on your arms folded under your head. "Gotta give you another one. Need to make sure."
You didn't have time to think before he was sliding into you again, still achingly hard and desperate to fill you up just a little more, to give you the baby you were both so desperate for, to start a family and have another precious piece of his life to care for. He needed it, the thought of it taking over the most primal, desperate part of his mind.
His thrusts were harsh, and probably would have been pushing you up the bed if it weren't for the bruising grip on your hips, pulling you back into each thrust and making you absolutely see stars.
"Daddy, 's too much," You whined, burying your face in your arm. His hand smoothed over your back, his pace never faltering.
"You can take it, baby. Just gotta get you nice and full. You wanna have my baby, right? Gotta take it," He cooed sweetly, even as you whined and squirmed. The heat searing through you stung, nerve endings on fire, but it only added to the pleasure that was taking over. You could barely form words at this point with Seungcheol hitting so deep inside of you that you were sure you wouldn't be able to walk, and with the gentle way he stroked your back and sides as if he wasn't fucking you dumb.
"I'm gonna-" You whined high in your throat, a broken moan following as you tried to warn him, but he knew your body better than you did, and he could tell just by the way your hips were pressing back insistently that you were gonna cum again.
"Go on, pretty. Cum for daddy. Cream my cock, please baby. Wanna feel it, know you can gimme one more." He urged you on, and you sobbed as the feeling rocked through you. Your thighs were trembling, and your toes were going numb. You didn't try to open your eyes, but you were sure your vision would have blacked out if you had.
His second orgasm followed not long after, filling you up with his seed again. He leaned against you, one arm holding the both of you up, the other wrapped around your waist to keep you pressed as close as possible to him. You were both breathless, bodies exhausted and minds fuzzy with the blend of pleasure and exhaustion. Once you both were back in reality, he pulled out of you carefully, easing you onto your back and curling against your side. His hand traced against your stomach.
"Was I too rough?" He asked quietly. You shook your head, turning to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“You know I can take it." You promised. He smiled, reaching up to wipe the drying tears from your cheeks
"I know you can. But it's my job to take care of you. And the little one." He said. You laughed lightly.
"Cheol there isn't even a little one yet." You said, your hand landing over his on your tummy and tracing the length of his fingers. He linked your hands together, smiling brightly.
"There will be. If it doesn't take this time I'll just keep breeding you until it does. Wanna make you a mommy. Want our baby to look just like you." His eyes were alight with pure adoration, and you had to admit as you snuggled closer to him that having a couple of mini Seungcheols running around the house sounded like a dream come true.
copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
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