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#the repeated verbalization of love from these two

oldmanffucker · 6 months

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I love writing the most devastatingly autobiographical bits into my fics that are genuinely so (subjectively) upsetting idk if I should publish it. Izzy finding out the most devastating fact about Ed’s mom’s suicide three years after she died bc it was a throwaway joke in a pauly shore comedy they were watching together (izzy feels like he’s not allowed to be winded by this new information because she wasn’t his mom and being upset about it felt like stealing something, some moment, from Ed, but really Rosemary had been as good as a mother to Izzy. She turned the office in her home into a second bedroom for him when his parents kicked him out his sophomore year of college, when they found out he was trans. She referred to him as her son in law, tho it made Ed and him groan) Stede has to tell Izzy, later, that he’s allowed to be upset about finding out this information, this objectively tiny detail that felt so huge that Izzy could feel his understanding of the world shifting, could feel the air around him expand and hold him like the very world around him was holding its breath with him. Coping by putting fictional boys in situations.

#the autobiographical bit is that Ed’s mom died the exact same way my mom did #and the three of them are watching a pauly shore movie together #and there’s a line a throwaway joke about the exact way she died #down to the smallest detail that Ed can’t even open his mouth to repeat #it’s a small detail but it feels so hugely tragic that he can’t #the rest is fiction - izzy and the fact that he didn’t know #if you want to be able to try to guess the line it’s from the movie Biodome #and I had such a visceral reaction to hearing that line that I froze in some sort of dissociative ptsd response. not sure what to call it #not really a panic attack more like a non verbal episode where my entire body frozen #this happens to Ed in the scene #I was with my two friends and neither noticed #but in the fic stede and Izzy do notice and they do care #I love projecting #text post #suicide tw #ceramics au

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wonustars · 3 months

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𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ?

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

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

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!

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.

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.”

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.

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.

𖦹 a/n: that's all! thank you for reading and i hoped you liked it :3!! don't be afraid to send me an ask or comment, and reblog. i appceiate your support 💞

𖦹 fic taglist: @writingbarnes @yuyunhoo @blurr3db3rry @noiceoofed @aaniag @yogurttea @arcofagamotto @lovrchl @woozixo @unusuallyshy @if-i-like-i-reblog @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @whowantshota @zezedoesshit @dawgyeom @yoonzinoooo (also tagging my lovely star @lololololchips just cuz :p)

(for those who signed up for the taglist, and i couldn't tag, i've removed them sorry. perm tag list will be in the reblog!)

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen smut #svthub #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #seventeen x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen fanfic

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chuulyssa · 2 months

Text

🇨 🇴 🇳 🇫 🇪 🇸 🇸 🇮 🇴 🇳 ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

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coco-loco-nut · 2 months

Note

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen #i hate jos verstappen

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infiniteimaginings · 3 months

Note

Could you write some angsty Anthony bridgerton x wife reader. Maybe he took his anger out on her cus he was stressed or something.💋😭😫🩷

A Loving Marriage (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Anthony had married you, he adored you during your courtship. He showed his affections through floral arrangements, joyous laughter, your dance card always had his name first. When he married you though, some things changed. He would be warm, but it slowly dimmed. He was always in his office, he never spoke to you, why does he do so? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: Angst Word Count: 4.0k A/N: I love angst, I love it! I looked at this request three times, midnight struck, and I turned into a writing goblin.

It had been a nice day, you had finally drawn your husband, Anthony Bridgerton, out of the house to have a delightful picnic with you. The two of you were discussing anything but pressing matters, laughing, eating the small sandwiches, drinking the sweet but tart lemonade. Occasionally your fingers would touch, a burst of energy escaping into your bodies until your fingers interlocked, accepting the warmth with open arms.

The sun was shining brightly, the clouds perfect white and fluffed into shapes the two of you pointed out and playfully teased each other for. The slight tilt of his head when you spoke of a cloud being shaped as one thing, his squinted eyes and scrunched nose were all that mattered to you. The way the sun kissed his skin and a few freckles had come to light, it was so beautiful to you, he was so beautiful.

When Anthony turned his gaze to you from the heavily brightened sky, the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile he gave you. His toothy grin was matched with him asking, “What is it?” You paid no mind to the question, simply smiling at your husband, your heart warming as you stared at him in adoration. You shook your head, “I just love you.” You told him, the comment making him smile wide, his teeth showing in his grin. The day was beautiful, and neither of you could deny that fact. To make the day even more beautiful, flowers were spread around your blanket on the ground, showing proof of spring.

You began to ramble a bit about the newest items you saw in the shop, Anthony just listening with loving eyes. A bee had hummed and buzzed as it circled around your head, when Anthony noticed he straightened up, his eyes widening a bit in fear. He went to move the dreadful creature from you but the bee had found its attention with him instead, buzzing around his head. Anthony had fallen still, horrified.

Anthony had just returned from shooting with his father, Edmund Bridgerton. The elder man had clasped his shoulder, telling him that in due time he will be able to show someone his best. He gave him a truthfully meaningful message about having to show someone your worst before you can show them your best, but the message didn’t stay in Anthonys head very long.

The elder had noticed a group of vibrant purple Hyacinths within their gardens, his wife's favorite flower. He decided to pick the flowers with a hum, expressing how Anthonys mother would love them. The younger boy laughed and began to pick a few himself, his father standing up, swatting a very persistent bee, Anthony shaking his head playfully. He expressed how his younger sister would be quite jealous until he noticed his father had not responded.

”Father?” Anthony spoke, turning to Edmund, the man was touching his neck. “The bloody thing stung me.” He told his son, moving his hand a bit with a twitch of his mouth. A bee sting didn’t mean much, so Anthony nodded and continued to pick a few flowers until his father began to gasp for breaths. Anthony stood, walking to Edmund, “Father, what is it?” He asked, and that question would be repeated a multitude of times with no verbal response.

Edmund Bridgerton had turned to his son, a bright red patch on his neck where the bee stung him, his face extremely pale, his eyes almost black as he struggled to breathe. Anthony watched his father struggle for air and collapse into his arms. He couldn’t even hear when he yelled for someone to help, he didn’t even hear when his pregnant mother, Violet Bridgerton, had come running down the small hill after seeing them through the open door in the back of their home.

Everything happened so fast and all Anthony could process was his father reaching up to cup his mothers cheek one last time, before his hand fell and the light left his eyes. Edmund Bridgerton died that day, Violet Bridgerton became a widow that day, he and his siblings lost their father that day.

Anthony was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when you swatted the bee away mindlessly. You hummed with a breathless chuckle, “You know it’s spring when the bees are out.” you spoke, looking in the basket for another small snack, unaware of the daze Anthony had just been in. He blinked a bit, looking around as he deeply inhaled, trying not to ruin your nice moment. He clapped his hands to his knees, “Well then.” He began, “I think I have some paperwork to attend to.” He told you, standing up and brushing himself off. You looked up rather quickly from your spot on the blanket, “Can’t it wait? We were having such a nice time.” You said, pouting ever so slightly.

He shook his head, leaning down to you, pressing his lips to yours in a short kiss. “Unfortunately it can not, enjoy the rest of the picnic.” He spoke hastily, walking back into the home, leaving you alone to watch the sky.

Days had passed, Anthony had not joined you again for a picnic, nor had he joined you for any sort of meal after that day. You didn’t understand why he felt the need to lock himself in his office, what was so interesting about paperwork he could tend to at any time? You were worried for him, you knew the footmen in the household brought him food, you just weren’t sure if he ate any of it.

With that, you decided to pay your husband a visit. You dismissed the footman at the door and simply knocked, a muffled ‘Come in’ came from the other side of the door. You gently opened it, smiling sweetly at Anthony who looked up at you, expressionless. You closed the door behind you, observing your surroundings and your husband who sat behind a desk, papers piling it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, if he had then he looked like her hadn’t slept well.

You walked to him, slow steps, the heels of your shoes sounding muffled as they clicked upon the polished floors. “You’ve locked yourself away.” You told him, standing in front of his desk, fingers twiddling in front of you. Anthony kept his eyes on you, quill pen in hands, plenty of papers around that needed signatures. He cleared his throat, “Well, some matter can not be left.” He told you simply, head looking back down to his work.

You walked around the desk, hands smoothing along his shoulders, he tensed more than relaxed. “You need a break.” You hummed to him, gently pressing your hands into the blades of his shoulders. Anthony leaned his head back into the chair, sighing, “I’m sorry my love, I just have so much work to do.” He told you with closed eyes, his mouth in a frown. Your expression mirrored his and you turned his chair a bit, taking his hands in yours. “We should go to town, go for a walk.” You suggested, “Maybe we could pick some flowers and visit your family.” You continued on, hands holding his slightly larger ones in yours.

You saying that seemed to invoke some sort of reaction from your husband, he removed his hands from you, “No.” He spoke harshly, turning back to the papers. You huffed, trying to get him to look at you, he wouldn’t budge. “Why do you refuse to spend time with me? Is your paperwork that important?” You pressed on, standing at his side, pure disbelief on your face.

Anthony put his clenched fists on the desk, “Yes, it is!” He spoke loudly, not looking at you. “You are interrupting very pressing matters, so go.” He told you, head turning to you ever so slightly, one hand raised to point to the door.

The outburst had shocked you, you stood there with a hand to your chest, a frown on your face, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Anthony I merely hoped…” You began, trying to find the words, instead you found yourself stumbling over them. Anthony shook his head, hand to his temple as he looked back down to the papers, “I care not for your wishes, leave!” HeYou stood up straight, swallowing harshly with a small sniffle. You bowed your head to him, “Of course Mr. Bridgerton.”You spoke, walking out the room, hands clasped together and head held high as you left him alone to his work.

Anthony had not come to the bedroom that night and you had not visited his office for the rest of the day. Neither of you had come down for dinner, eating respectively in separate rooms.

The next day, mid afternoon, you walked into the office area with a tea tray. Typically, a maid would bring it in for you, but you had seemed to reject the idea and believed you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. Anthony had heard the sound of the door opening, no knock, no announcement. He looked up and saw you setting the tea tray on the low table in front of the seats in the office. The tray had two teacups and saucers, a teapot with freshly brewed tea, a sugar bowl, a milk jug, and a strainer. All of which were porcelain with multicolored, delicately painted flowers and the Bridgerton name along the side.

Anthony sighed deeply, he didn’t look irritated, he just looked tired. “ Did I not tell you to leave me be?” He asked since you had not greeted him. You didn’t look at him as you prepared your cup of tea, “That is such a way to speak to your wife Mr. Bridgerton.” You spoke sarcastically, stirring in your sugar and taking a small sip to see if it were to your tastes. A warm smile formed on your face after you drank the warm liquid, sitting comfortably in the chair a little ways across from Anthony's desk, a table in the way of you being directly in front of his desk.

Anthony clasped his hands together, elbows on the desk, “What are you doing?” He asked, lips pursed. You placed your cup on the saucer, “If you truly believe I will let you sit in this office and rot,” You spoke, finally looking at him, “you are gravely mistaken.” You told him, expressionless. Anthony tilted his head to the side, he didn’t believe he was ‘rotting’ in the office space, but he couldn’t speak since you beat him to it. “I shall remain here and tend to you until you see fit to conduct yourself as a gentleman.” You stated, hands in your lap, straightening your posture, “Or to put sourly,” You began, “an adult.”

“Do not treat me like a child.” Anthony told you, hands dropping back to the desk, no movement towards the quills.

“Then do not act like one.”

“What has prompted this?”

You pretend to think for a moment, pulling up your hand to count, “Your blatant disregard for your wife in your own home,” You spoke as you put up a finger, “your refusal to acknowledge her presence or engage with her” you continued, putting another finger up, “or even talk to her.” You finished, putting up the last finger, slightly glaring at him.

There was silence from Anthony as he bit the inside of his cheek, twitching his nose. Due to the silence, you continued to speak, “I vowed to cherish and support you through all, but I will not endure your silence.” You explained, shaking your head a bit with your words. Anthony sighed, moving a few papers out of his way, “You are aware that traditionally wives do not-”

“You did not marry me due to my traditional nature.”

There was more silence from your husband until he ran a hand through his hair. “You will not leave until I discuss ill with you?” He asked, seeming to be contemplating the idea that he just spoke into existence. You nodded, “Precisely.”

“Very well, let’s discuss ills.”

The Bridgerton man stood from his desk and strode to sit next to you. You gestured to the tea and he shook his head, leaning forward, clasping his hands. His leg shook and tapped the floor as he struggled to find the words, “My fathers death left my mother heartbroken, she never remarried.” He spoke suddenly. The words confused you a bit, was that why he had been so closed off? You turned to him fully, crossing your leg over the other, “Your mothers strength,” You began, taking a breath, “is commendable.” You commented, the Brdigerton in front of you chose not to look at you but he nodded. “She said her love for your father was true and her devotion for your father lies strong.” You continued on, thinking about the older woman and how powerful she was for standing strong for her children. “She does not need to marry if she does not wish to.” You completed your thought at his words about his mother.

Anthony put his hands on his knees, straightening himself. He sucked his teeth, “I understand that,” He told you, “but you do not understand how she flinches when they refer to her as Dowager.” He continued on.

At parties they would announce Violet Bridgerton as Dowager VIscountess Bridgerton, and they have for the many years since Edmund Bridgerton had passed.

“My mother remains a widow.” Anthony continued, voice slightly cracking when he thought about the way his mothers hand would tighten around his arm when someone greeted her as ‘Dowager’.

You nodded in understanding, no matter how strong Violet was, it still hurt. You just didn’t process why that caused him to pull from you. “Nevertheless, I am not,” You told him, the words causing him to look put his face in his hands, “hence my lack of understanding of your coldness and sudden refusal to be with me.” You spoke, staring right at him, hands in your lap picking at your nails.

“What if you find yourself a widow?” Anthony asked suddenly, now fully turned to you.

“Pardon me?” You asked blankly, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted.

“What if you find yourself to be a widow?” He repeated, slightly differently.

“If you suspect you may act recklessly, you must inform me at once." You told him cautiously, hand moving towards him, but he pulled back. "My father's passing was but a consequence of being outdoors.” He stated blankly, eyes staring forward, distantly. He never talked about his father's death, it wasn’t a topic he was very open about. “He committed no recklessness, yet the heavens saw fit to claim him.” Anthony's hands were beginning to shake before he clenched them into fists, “A virtuous man, struck down."

“Anthony-”

“What if I do not live a graciously long life?” He asked, head snapping to you, “What if I meet my end, just as young as my father?” He asked another question that you had no answer to other than, “Anthony you will live a long life-”

He stood abruptly, face red, eyes watering, “How could you possibly know that!” He yelled at you, “You do not!” He continued to yell, face such an angry red it almost scared you. He didn’t seem angry though, his eyes were filled with fear, he was scared. You did not expect him to yell or be so emotional, it hurt you deep in your heart to see him look so terrified about what could happen.

Anthony began to pace, hands in his hair and desperately pulling at his collar. “I didn’t even wish to marry,” He told you, seemingly muttering to himself. “I feared leaving my wife alone, especially if we were to have children.” He continued, not gazing at you at all.

You stood, slowly walking to him, “Yet, here you continue to stand,” You said, “alive,and wed.” You reminded him, concern flowing through you as he paced.

He stopped walking, looking at the wedding ring on his finger. “My mother was left with eight children to raise alone.” He mumbled, having to clear his throat from how low he was speaking. “I, the eldest, lost my father when I was eighteen left to carry his title and responsibility.” He spoke to you, reminding himself of all the information he didn’t know when he was eighteen and how he had to figure it all out, how he had to be the man of the house at such a young age. “I do not wish for you and our future child to endure the same fate.”

You were quiet, “Then why did you marry me?” You whispered, your expression was slightly crinkled but you were listening. Anthony had turned to you, a soft but sad expression on his face. He gently held your hands, looking into your eyes. “My affection for you was undeniable.” He confessed, cupping one of your cheeks with his large hand, a bit of sweat dripping down his forehead from being so worked up. “It was so difficult to be inexplicably in love with you and watch for you to have other suitors.” He continued, drawing a breath, “I was drawn to you, as a moth to flame.”

You licked your lips, “Yet, you still harbor fears of leaving me-”

“The responsibility of children and a title you cannot shed unless you remarry.” He interrupted you, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks. He looked at you desperately, desperate for you to understand how he was feeling, but you could not. “Which I have no intention to do.” You retorted to his comment, he is the only man you believe you’ll ever love and nothing will change that.

Anthony nodded, dropping his hands from your face. He remembered how he wasn’t there for his mother, for his family sometimes. “I acknowledge that I was a challenge to deal with for my mother.” He spoke, and you were aware of such things. He had admitted these feats to you during your courtship, during small corners of vulnerability. “I just do not wish for you to face similar struggles alone.” He finished his thought, ultimately refusing to meet your gaze as he found the bookcases to be far more interesting.

You shook your head, “She did not endure it alone.” You stated matter-of-factly. Anthony looked up, eyes blinking in confusion, “What?” He asked you, so you continued. “Your mother, she had you, she had Benedict, Colin, Daphne. All of her children were her solace and support.” You expressed to him, reminding him of all of his siblings. They all had each other, they were all her shoulder to cry on just as she was theirs.

Anthony sighed for the thousandth time within that conversation, “We were not easy children.” He told you. Eloise didn’t wish to marry, he had been such a terrible man of the house in the beginning, Benedict did not wish for the responsibility, Colin rushed into things too quickly, Daphne had so much going on when she was named the diamond of the season, his younger siblings couldn’t even fathom the world they were in.

“No child ever is.” You told him simply, holding his hand gently. This time, he did not pull away.

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek gently and pulling back to look him into his eyes. “Now,” You started, letting out the puff of air that was compressing your chest the entire conversation. “I’d prefer if we do not speak the subject of your demise as if it were to greet us at dawn.” You told him, the comment causing him to chuckle a bit, holding your hand a little tighter. “You will come down for dinner and we will enjoy a meal together.” You told him and he nodded, “I will be down in a moment, I shall see the papers are put away first.” He spoke, looking around to all the papers scattered on his desk and some even on the floor.

You left him to the papers and asked your maid to get dinner started, the woman asking if there were any preferences you wanted. The door had closed and Anthony was soon left alone.

Once the door had closed Anthony had begun to gasp for breath, unbuttoning the top of his shirt for air. His chest began to have as he leaned against the door, tears filling his eyes. He furiously wiped at them, trying so hard to push them back but he couldn’t stop them when a choked sob left his lips. His hands were shaking when they reached his face to wipe at his eyes hurriedly. The topic of conversation was difficult, you were so sure that the two of you would grow old together with your children, that you would not have to worry about being a widow, but Anthony was not so sure.

Everyday he saw a little bit of his father in himself and it terrified him. Such a good man was taken from the world by something as simple as a bee and it scared Anthony of everything around him. Sure, before he was not scared of death, even going as far as to call for a duel where he was prepared to die for his sister's honor. But now, he had you, and he did not wish to leave you.

Anthony shakily clasped his hands in a prayer, praying for all the time in the world to be with you. Praying for more time than his father had, praying for a chance. He muttered small prayers, “Please, I just wish to be with her, I will never ask for anything else.” He cried out quietly, eyes closed, tears pouring from his eyes. “I just want time, time with her, please.” He begged quietly, his prayers in reflection to how lonely he saw his mother was. She had so many children but he knew that his mother wished for his father to be there to help her everyday.

A knock had sounded at the door, the noise caused Anthony to stand quickly and rush to the other side of the room with documents, back to the door. He cleared his throat, sniffling one last time, “Enter.” He spoke, the door opening.

“Lord Bridgerton, dinner is served.” A footman had announced, standing in the doorway.

Anthony put the documents away, wiping his tears without the man noticing. “I shall be there in just a moment's time.” He told the man, putting some documents into the drawers. The man nodded and closed the door, going to inform you of the comment.

The door closed once more and Anthony felt his legs were so weak that he had almost collapsed into the furniture. One of his hands gripped the edge of the drawer, the other clawing at his chest. He felt as if every time he took a breath his chest would tighten, he felt nauseous, dizzy. The room was spinning and his vision was blurry from his tears. It almost seemed as if he were dying, but he was not, everything felt like so much but nothing was happening.

It all felt like too much.

He tried to take a few more deep breaths, the pain ceasing and his vision returning back to normal. He slowly exhaled, blinking and wiping his tears. He clenched his jaw as he stood up straight, muttering some words of ‘man of the house’, ‘loving husband’, ‘time’. He couldn't connect the words even if he tried, all he knew was that he was going to dinner.

All he knew was that his father's words rang in his head, but he kept shaking them from his mind. “You cannot show someone your best without allowing them to see your worst.” If only his father had told him how difficult it was to show someone your worst. How frightening it was to show true vulnerability, to find the words to explain feelings you don’t even understand fully yourself.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #angst #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #Infinite Imaginings

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girlkisser13 · 1 month

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dating jason grace would include

• ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is CRAZYY.

• jason is the epitome of a gentleman fr!! he’ll do little things like holding open doors for you (even if it means waiting a few extra moments), offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33

• if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he’ll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first!!

• his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.

• whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.

• even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33

• you know that one tiktok trend where one person tries to switch foods/drinks with their partner? yeah if you ask him he will not hesitate to switch with you. he also shares his food with you with no complaints.

• but he also knows you well enough to get you something to eat even if you say you don’t want anything or that say that you’re not hungry.

• jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go.

• jason lovess resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33

• he most definitely places kisses on your hand. i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush.

• i feel like he radiates a mixture of golden retriever boyfriend and orange cat boyfriend.

• he is pretty romantic and enjoys meticulously planning dates for you both, such as movie dates, picnics, hiking, and more.

• one of his love languages is acts of service. whether it's helping you with chores, surprising you with breakfast in bed, or offering a shoulder to lean on when you’re having a bad day, he's always there to support them in any way he can.

• he’s 100% a morning person (due to his militaristic upbringing at camp jupiter). if you’re also a morning person, the two of you enjoy going on morning jogs together. if you’re not a morning person, he’ll spend hours admiring you when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy or weird way lmao).

• he’s a big reader but sticks with audiobooks (due to his dyslexia) and will read every single book that you read so that he can talk with you about them.

#pjo #pjo tv show #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo #heroes of olympus #jason grace x reader #jason grace #pjo disney+#pjo x reader #pjo series #hoo fandom #hoo series #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians

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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months

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Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (1 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, protective Kyle, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

With no one to turn to, you contact Gaz, knowing that he'll listen. But old instincts are hard to ignore, and Gaz comes to you because your current boyfriend isn't worth your love. He needs you to understand that.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

It’s late. The colors on the television are bright in the dark room. Sound is off but Kyle isn’t watching. It’s more for the background. A distraction. All the muscles in his body ache. That’s how it always is when he returns from another deployment.

Everything is fine until he arrives home and plops onto the sofa. Like a slumbering bear emerging from winter hibernation, his body reacts to the sudden silence of rest as if peace isn’t something Kyle deserves. It’s why he’s always gone, and because of his continuous absences, you left.

Lonely. You were always lonely with him, and it’s because Kyle made it so. It’s a constant regret that sits in the back of his throat like spice buildup. It burns. Rages. Simmers.

When Kyle’s phone starts buzzing, he doesn’t notice at first. The screen is bright like the television, but it isn’t until its rattling boxy body shifts that Kyle’s gaze glances downward. He considers leaving it, allowing the caller to fall to voicemail, but something stirs in his stomach. It hooks his attention.

Perhaps it’s the late hour or the sudden tightness in his chest. Something is bothering him like stubborn sticky spots on the kitchen floor.

Kyle sits up, reaching for the vibrating phone on the tabletop.

Your name scrolls across the screen.

At first, Kyle’s mind cannot comprehend it. The letters that make up your name move over the screen of the phone in a blur, almost like they’re moving too quickly. But that isn’t possible. Kyle’s mind simply cannot comprehend why the hell you’re calling him this late at night.

You are no longer his. The two of you aren’t together. You moved on and rightfully so. Kyle has seen all the social media posts, and sometimes the blokes at work might bring you up, usually to provoke him. But the fucking joke is on them. The separation was mutual. It was kind and calm and fine.

But that doesn’t mean Kyle hasn’t thought about you. There is no box inside his head to put you in. There is no hole or lock or key or barren wasteland where he could simply toss your memory into and forget.

Kyle didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to let you go.

But you weren’t happy. He was always gone, and still is. Kyle never figured out how to be a partner to you when he was a partner to his work.

He regrets not fighting for you. He regrets not speaking up instead of gently bowing out.

And it’s late. It’s fucking late. Why are you calling him?

Hope—or a sliver of it—blooms in his chest, twisting around inside his body like ribbons around bone. When the feeling pulls taut, that excitement slides into worry.

The two of you are not together.

You rarely call him.

But his phone is buzzing.

And you are waiting on the other end.

Kyle’s slides his thumb across his phone’s screen, answering the call. He brings it up his ear, and that is when he hears it—a choked inhalation. It is one he recognizes. You’re crying, and trying to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” asks Kyle automatically, the instinct to take care of you rising to the surface.

There is a soft sniffle before you speak. “It’s—fuck. I’m sorry for calling you this late. I didn’t think you’d even pick up. Or be home. Are you home? Shit. I—”

“What’s wrong?” he repeats, because there has to be something wrong. You’re calling him, not your boyfriend. “Are you hurt?”

The idea of someone putting hands on you builds in his mind. It is followed by so many other possibilities. A wrecked car. Someone following you home. Everything.

“No—I mean.” You pause, sighing. The difficulty to communicate doesn’t sit right with him. You’re clearly in distress and the need to fix it is unbearable.

“Are you at home?” This time Kyle lowers his voice. Makes it soft. Gentle.

“Yes,” you answer.

He nods as if you can see him. “I’m coming over.” Kyle is already pushing off the couch, shrugging on his coat, and reaching for his keys.

“Kyle.” You say his name—just his name—and it says so much.

The ribbon between his bones loosens. Tightens. Ties his emotions and memory of you all together until your face is all he can picture.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Kyle makes it in fifteen.

When you answer the door, Kyle shatters like glass hurled against the wall. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. The look on your face dances between anger, sadness, and relief. He has no idea where on the spectrum he currently sits but this vision of you only puts him back to those days when he’d come home for a few days, taking off again, leaving you with nothing for stretches at a time.

There are no awkward greetings. No embarrassed flushes. Kyle does not hesitate, and you open for him. He reaches for you, and you answer in kind, embracing Kyle so hard you might squeeze the air from his lungs.

That would be fine. Kyle would happily suffocate.

Kyle stands and holds you, breathing in your familiar scent, pressing his face into your hair. His eyes close, and it’s just like before. Like you never left him. The sensation of you this close ignites every possessive part of him. It tells him to not let go and to keep you close.

But you are not his woman. Not anymore. And yet you should be.

He does not pull away until you do. But you don’t retreat into your flat, or slip out of reach. You stay right where you are, the two of you hovering just inside the doorway. On instinct, Kyle is touching you, one hand cupping the side of your face, your tears staining his skin where he touches your flesh. His other hand is on your upper arm, thumb rubbing across the bare skin there in gentle strokes.

You begin to melt, the muscles in your body relaxing. What Kyle wants to do is to take you to the couch or the bed, to drape you over his body, to place you in his lap. That is the intimacy he craves. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

Those gorgeous lips of your part, mouth opening as if you wish to speak, but whatever you want to say is lodged in your throat. In their place come fresh tears and sudden shifts of emotions that range from frustration to despair.

You’re hurting. You’re hurting so much, and Kyle only wants to fix things.

“Look at me,” murmurs Kyle, both hands now cradling your face. “Let’s get you settled. Yeah?” You nod, your small smile forced. “Come with me,” he coaxes.

He draws away and gently reaches out to take your hand, guiding you over to the sofa. He instructs you to recline, grabbing a few more pillows and a blanket. Once you’re all tucked in, Kyle digs around in your kitchen searching for snacks while the kettle boils for tea.

The need to take care of you is overwhelming. Kyle’s head throbs from the incessant voice that tells him to get you calm, to make you comfortable, to listen when you’re ready. The routine is easy, and Kyle provides, executing what you need without prompting or even second guessing it.

And you open up for him. Thank him. Reach out with your hand to hold his as he sits next to you on the couch. You’re calmer now with your tears wiped away and your face no longer puffy.

“Ready to talk about it?”

Your thumb runs along the edge of your mug. “Still want to hear it?”

“You can tell me anything,” he replies automatically.

You lick your lips and inhale. “He yelled at me.” By the defeat in your tone, Kyle can immediately tell that this isn’t the first time.

Kyle stays quiet, allowing you to take the lead, to tell it however you need to.

“This time it happened after we met up with some of his friends. I called him ‘boyfriend’ and got a few odd looks. In the car he told me not to call him that. I didn’t understand so I pushed.” You glance down at your tea. “He screamed the whole ride home. Dropped me off here and wouldn’t even look at me.”

Kyle goes cold all over. You’ve been with this guy for almost six months and he’s upset that you referred to him as your ‘boyfriend?’ No. Fuck him. That’s fuck boy behavior. That’s a man who wants all the benefits without any of the commitment. You don’t deserve that. And this fucker doesn’t deserve you.

Sighing, you reach for your phone and unlock it, turning it around to present it. Kyle takes it, staring at the screen. There are texts upon texts from the guy, all of which you’ve left unanswered. It starts as an apology and quickly becomes angrier as he scrolls.

But you did answer him. It’s the very last message. You sent it just before you called Kyle.

We’re done, it reads.

And there is no answering reply. There are no pulsing bubbles to even indicate that he’s formulating a response.

Good. Fucking good.

Kyle extends his arm, returning the phone. You don’t lock it. You shut it down, tossing it onto the table. Placing the mug of tea down, you sit up, staring intensely into Kyle’s eyes. There is so much he sees there, but he won’t move first even though he wants to, even though he wants you to return to his arms so he can remind you just how perfect the two of you are for each other.

But sometimes memory and the movement of it are just the length of a singular breath.

Maybe it is Kyle that moves first. Maybe it is you. In moments—seconds—you are straddling Kyle’s lap, arms laced around the back of his neck, your mouths pressed together in perfectly wanton need, a reunion that shakes every bone in his body.

You are fresh air. Cold ice cream on a hot summer day. Strawberries with sugar and cream. Sweet. Perfect. And only for his consumption. That is always how it should be.

Kyle’s hands slide up your body, over every curve.

“I miss you. I miss you all the time,” you confess, fingers digging into the front of his shirt.

Your admission is validation.

“I’d never tell you to not call me ‘boyfriend,’” murmurs Kyle against your mouth before going in for another kiss. “I’d want to hear you say it all the time.”

His words are a promise. An invitation.

Take me back. Please. Choose me.

Your lips part and Kyle slides his tongue inside, relearning your flavor. It is heaven dissolving on his tongue. He chases it, chases you, until you’re tugging at his clothes, wanting them gone.

It doesn’t matter that this is your sofa. If you want him, Kyle will lay himself bare, let you have whatever the fuck you want. There isn’t much to remove from you, but once the two of you are bare and you are straddling his lap, Kyle gives all his love and attention to these next moments.

Your body briefly resists, and then it melts, allowing him entrance. Kyle wraps one arm around your waist, hand splayed over your lower back to support your weight as you roll your hips up and down his cock. His other hand holds onto the side of your throat, keeping your gaze on him as you fuck yourself on him.

It’s glorious. Perfect. You are so slick and warm around him. He never forgot, but the real thing is better than memory. Better than his hand in the shower or the dark. You are moaning, light and wavering and only for him.

Your fingers dig in, nails clawing but not tearing. On the next rock of your hips, Kyle slides deep, and the sound you make nearly snaps his control. He holds fast, hand sliding to squeeze your ass as your movements become frantic and with no purposeful rhythm. You’re seeking your end, and Kyle wants you to have it. He needs you to have it.

“Come on my cock, love. For me. Yes. Like that.” You squeeze and Kyle groans loudly. “That’s it. Fucking hell, love.

You turn your face into his neck to stifle the cry that erupts from your throat as your orgasm hits you. Kyle nearly finishes himself, your pussy a vice around him, claiming him. A shudder runs through your limbs, and then you’re nipping at Kyle’s neck and jaw.

“Finish inside me,” you whimper, drawing back enough to gaze into his eyes.

Kyle doesn’t need you to say it twice.

Changing position, Kyle slides both hands to the curve of your ass. Lifting, he shifts you until he’s propped up on his knees. Your legs drape over his arms, completely open for him. You cling to him and Kyle brings your bodies together over and over again.

He will finish—he will, but Kyle needs to hear that word first.

“Are you mine?” he asks between clenched teeth. It’s the only thing keeping him steady. He’s ready to snap, ready to release.

You nod and it isn’t enough.

“Say it.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.”

Kyle grinds his pelvis against you, rubbing perfectly across your already sensitive clit. You cry out, clench around him again, but still, he needs to hear you say it.

“What am I to you?”

“Kyle,” you moan, and he laughs.

“Not that.” A little spasm runs through you and Kyle feels it reverberate all the way to his brain. “Won’t give you what you want until you say it.”

You gasp as the next thrust punches the air from your lungs. “Boyfriend,” you manage to whimper. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Fucking right.

Kyle immediately takes you to your back on the couch, thrusting a few more times before pressing taut, sealing your bodies together as his own release overcomes him.

His mouth meets yours and Kyle’s body is singing, pulsing, and bright.

You are his.

You are his again.

taglist:

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dmitriene · 4 months

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON NOT SHYING TO SHOW YOU OFF.

cw: fluff, comfort, nsfw, smut, established relationship, brief mentions of simons past, possesive behavior, mentions of another task force characters, kisses, pet names, public sex, passionate sex, unprotected p in v, marking, creampie pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

you and simon have been in a relationship for a relatively long time so that the man behind the balaclava of the skull and the nickname of the ghost, a man whose hands are stained with blood up to the elbows and dark circles have sunk under the dark pools of his eyes has become more than his dark image, his past, blossoming with your help.

his soul was no longer tormented by memories flashing like annoying flies and sleepless nights, cursed by the three cursed obscenity under his breath when he looked at the white shabby ceiling, now he fell asleep under the softness of your body near his chest, watching your chest heave and eyelashes flutter, soft sighs slide from your lips, now he was no longer tormented by memories, now he no longer was faced by faceless corpses.

if he could put all his gratitude into his words, he would not be silent for a minute, but instead of words, his eyes and actions spoke, warm brown ones always secretly accompanied you and stuck to your back until the moment you disappeared from his field of vision, calloused hands carefully held yours or lay with a landing weight on the very bottom of your back, he accompanied you, drove you, saw you off, and perhaps very rarely expressed his affection verbally, but when a languid baritone sounded like lightning through the sky in three words over your ear — «i love you», you knew that he was attached to you.

therefore, simon was not afraid to show you as his most precious treasure to everyone around him, he was not afraid to hold your hand, intertwining his fingers almost in a knot, he was not afraid to kiss you in public, raising his mask only to his nose and maybe covering the two of you with his palm, muffling your meek protests with a brief but deep kiss, licking your bottom lip hot and wet, searching for an entry, before pulling back and straightening himself out, narrowing his eyes in a smile at your embarrassment and slight frown in your brows.

from time to time you could catch him openly praising you, be it within the walls of your house, where he would stand in the aisle to the room or sit on the bed while you were changing clothes, endlessly repeating in a grump, but truly loving manner that — «you're so beautiful like that, fuck, my gorgeous love», or in public, sitting in a bar with his comrades from the task force, to whom he had no problem showing you off, trusting them like family, trusting them with you, almost all the time watching you sit and communicate with them, giggling, forcing him at a certain moment to squeeze your cheeks and lean over to kiss you, causing you to squeak in dismay, squeezing his shirt on his chest into fists while he released your lips with wet pop, noticing out of the corner of his eye how some of the boys were embarrassed by such a display of intimacy, but this didn't stop him from purring — «sorry, you just so lovely while giggling all like that, doll»

and he, as if unexpectedly, had no problem letting the others hear how lucky he was, taking you away from the table in the process, only humming at your giggling and slightly interested — «where are we going, simon? baby?? are we going home?» which he may have been rude, but ignored, and the rest of the task force either guessed or simply got away with it, but one way or another you find yourself in a narrow hallway on the way to the toilets, pressed against the wall in a darkened corner, when his lips press against yours with heat and wetness, licking into your mouth.

he only brought you two here because he couldn’t contain his arousal while looking at you, relaxed, cheerful, and yet incredibly beautiful — and he would have been glad to let you talk to his mates longer, but he simply couldn’t stop himself from pinning you against the wall, pulling his hands under your cute, loose dress that you wore especially for this meeting, and running his thick fingers along the edges of your panties and right along your clothed slit, pressing teasingly before starting to gradually lower them, making you let an impatient, albeit an embarrassed whine — «si.. there's people..»

simon just grunts as always, taking a moment to lower your slightly drenched panties, his touch gentle, always so, but yet impatient.

he then swiftly unzips his pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxers, throbbing, meaty length with dark red tip that leaks precum and gets him all wet and sticky as he pumps himself couple of times, guiding himself between your slightly parted legs, teasing your slick slit and lightly brushing against your clenched cunt, eliciting a moan from you, sweet, shyly and almost chocked from embarrassment sound.

pressing his broad chest against your back, he pins you against the cold wall of small hallway corner, his body heat radiating against your skin as anticipation hangs heavy in the air as he positions himself, ready to stuff himself full in your wet heat, resting his head on your frail shoulder and muttering in your ear, deeply, as if growling, holding all his pent up arousal so as not to overwhelm you and peppering the side of your face — «s'pretty, just.. gonna be real quick, lovie, couldn't help myself»

unable to refuse, you silently arch, ducking your head slightly under your arm that are braced on the wall, when simon nothing but growls appreciatively at the sight of your plush ass pressed against his pubic bone and arch of your spine, his desire intensifying.

thick, warm palm squeezes your butt with his free hand, relishing in the softness and warmth beneath his touch, albeit possessively, letting his fingers sink into the warm skin and leave scarlet imprints from the touch.

with a firm grip, he pulls your asscheek slightly, allowing him to guide his throbbing cock inside your cunt, your folds flutter around him as he eases inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the slight stretch.

he can feel his bulbous head leaking, the slickness making it easier for him to slide into you until he is fully buried inside your warm depths, bottoming out fully till he's balls deep, you squeeze and clench around him till your hole relaxes and he can move a tad bit, looking behind his shoulder just to see the dim lit bar hallway still missing of people, and it gives him more openness to action without the fear of you being uncomfortable.

and you don’t even feel it no more when simon starts with a few slow, testing thrusts, his hands resting on top of yours on the wall, he squeezes your hands gently, intertwining his fingers with yours, providing a comforting touch amidst the growing intensity and strokes your knuckles, his lips leaving quick kisses on your cheek and the sides of your face, distracting you from the increasing speed of his thrusts.

his hips roll and snap, driving his thick cock deeper with each movement, the strain of pleasure causes moans to escape your lips, muffled by the fear that someone going to hear you both, or he's friends that will try to find you, but still, unable to muffle them fully.

your eyes roll back in pleasure, losing yourself to the sensations coursing through your body, your cunt clenches around him, coating his thick cock in slickness, heightening the friction and pleasure for both of you as he thrust deeper, brushing against your spongy spots and finally finding the right place, hitting rapidly.

he knows this place inside you better than you yourself, thrusting his dick rapidly with just the right amount of force, the pleasure is overwhelming, causing your legs to tremble beneath you, knees buckling as if branches.

simon grunts right below your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, as he presses you further into the wall, his bulky form squishing against your body, creating an intimate shield, he can let people hear, but not look at how you melt against him and become a beautiful, fucking pretty mess, it's just for his eyes.

his balls slap against the swell of your ass with each powerful thrust, the sound echoing in the room, as his hands squeezes yours tightly, ensuring you have no way to muffle the throaty mewls that escape your lips, full of desperate mewls of his name and unintelligible babbling — «si! si-simon, yes, s-s' deep! hmnn!» the sounds of your pleasure reverberate, unabashedly reaching the ears of anyone passing by, leaving no doubt to the passionate encounter taking place between you in this small, narrow corner.

simon's ears perk up as he hears your desperate babbles, and it's only serves to fuel his desire, and he growls in response — «f-fuck.., what ya doing to me, doll» and increasing the pace of his thrusts.

he presses his face into your neck, kissing softly and moving against your skin with his teeth, scratching, alternating between gentle bites and leaving marks in the form of hickeys, let them bloom on your skin like pinkish purple flowers, the one's he's happy to pepper your flesh with.

his hips snap against your ass with greater force, his cock driving deeper in your slickness and hitting your g-spot with each powerful thrust, simon shows no signs of slowing down, his determination evident as he continues to ravish you from the inside, each vein on his shaft rub against your gummy walls, fucking your brains out.

your grumbles and throaty moans intensify, fueling his hunger even more, as well when you arch deeper, pressing yourself against his fast and desperate thrusts, seeking even greater pleasure, the sound of your voice and the way you respond to him cause his cock to throb, aching for release, leaking without stopping as his head plunge against your spongy spot, aching to fill you, as he relishes in your clenching and spasming.

as his cock continues to leak inside you, the slickness adding to the intensity of your pleasure, he relentlessly hits all the soft spots inside you, not giving you a moment to catch your breath, knocking it from your lungs, rhe burning sensation in his hips matches the sensation in your ass from his forceful snaps, heightening the pleasure for both of you.

as you feel the familiar, lava hot feeling in your lower stomach coiling tighter with each passing minute, simon senses that he's reaching his own limit as well, he buries his face in your shoulder, not letting himself kiss you, allowing you to sob against the wall from the overwhelming ecstasy, as your body shudders uncontrollably, pressing against him tighter as you struggle to find any relief from the impending climax that looms just here.

simon is completely lost in his own primal desires, fucking into you with relentless fervor, he shushes your babbled mewls, with lazy kisses on your chin, trying to provide some comfort amidst the overwhelming pleasure, as your words die on your heavy tongue and everything you let out is just — «close, i'm close, simon, hhmn, ah, yes!» as you press against his body, taking every harsh thrust with a mix of pleasure and pain.

your walls and folds spasm and clamp around his slick cock, signaling your impending climax, and then it hits you like a tidal wave.

your face lowers, your eyes rolling back until all you see is darkness, your body goes limp, shuddering uncontrollably as your cunt pulses and releases slick and cum, coating his shaft in your essence, letting it drip from your puffy lips and make a mess.

meanwhile, simon's tip curls and bumps against your g-spot more slowly and smoothly, prolonging his own pleasure, he throbs inside you, releasing warm, thick milky cum, painting your insides with his potent seed, filling you just as nice while panting in your ear and pepper you with soft kisses, finally releasing one of his hands to touch your chin, tipping it as you lift your head dazedly, letting him kiss your lips tenderly, murmuring gently — «thank you darling, did so good, such a good girl, just take it, yeah? t-take it» as he pump his cum in you.

he clearly ensures that his cum is thoroughly buried in your loose, wet hole before easing himself out with a quiet, slick noise, simon looks down at the white ring on the base of his shaft and the sticky mess that now coats your cunny, his eyes heavy lidded with satisfaction.

a deep, contented growl rumbles in his chest as he observes how his seed slightly seeps from your throbbing cunt, trailing along your thighs and dripping onto your panties, so he gathers some of the cum with his fingers, rubbing it against your sensitive folds, stuffing it back inside you, eliciting sobs from you as you remain too sensitive from the intense pleasure.

— «i know, love, i know, took it so good, just relax» he coos softly, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and dominance, as he fumbles with his pants and boxers, quickly hiding his now soft cock back inside his pants.

with a nonchalant disregard for the wet mess, he puts your panties back on you, not minding the mixture of his cum and your slickness that clings to the fabric, before spinning you around gently and picking you up in his arms, letting your limp legs wrap around his waist as he helped you, holding gently with one arm, while he adjusted the hem of your dress into place with other, hiding everything intimate from prying eyes, at lough not from everyone.

as soon as he turns and begins to carry you back towards the very inside of the bar, away from the dark corner, he bewitches around the corner and meets a well familiar scott, johnny, taking in a familiar dark mop of hair, arranged in mohawk, blue eyes that look with a certain taken aback when he immediately breaks through the silence in his usual barely intelligible speech — «eh, here you are, everyone was worried where you two been» but immediately shuts up when he takes in a situation better.

johnny is not stupid, he perfectly notices such details as the slight liddenes in brown eyes and your absolutely fatigued figure, which led you to bury yourself in simon's shoulder, almost sleepily, and he catches a glimpse of the bite marks and hickeys on your skin, simon's carelessly buttoned pants and your slightly wrinkled dress, causing his lips to break into a grin, and his eyes squint slyly, understandingly, and simon already feels where this will lead to.

but instead of further words, johnny pats him on his free shoulder, a little weaker than usual, out of sincere concern not to disturb you, before looking over his shoulder at the rest of the boys, to their table in a quieter corner, before looking back at simon, tilting his head, and pronouncing with slight humor, but no less valuable for this — «alright, i see, away with ye, take the bonnie home, i'll tell the boys that you two had to go, it was nice to see ya that happy around her»

simon's eyes flutter with clear respect, a fragile tenderness for a person who seems to be lending him a helping hand, albeit in such a small way, before he nods and they shake hands hastily, rather rudely, after which johnny leaves back to the table, and he, kissing the top of your head gently, gently strokes the curve of your back and whispers — «let's get back home, yeah, sweetheart?»

and you can only nod weakly, burying yourself in his shoulder more actively, before allowing him to take everything into his own hands and, squeezing you more possessively, head towards the exit.

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Text

Rintaro is exhausted.

He’s been sprinting around non-stop these past few hours- yes, hours, he’s a man of weakness- trying to hold the fort while you’re at the doctors-that-hes-not-invited-to.

Kaiya, his little princess who now seems like the spawn of damned Satan, is on the path to weening off nap time, and it shows. Akito, the handsome and kind asshole, only seems to be interested in essay he’s doing in his room to avoid watching Kaiya.

It’s been four hours. Rintaro wants to leave these kids at a bus stop and ditch them. He doesn’t know how you do this every day.

“I’m home!” You call with a gentle close of the front door, and Rintaro cries in relief. Kaiya quickly dashes to you, followed by Rintaro himself scrambling behind her. You smile, and it’s like he can hear the choir of angels with it. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You ask Kaiya, and it’s prompted with a yawn.

Rintaro deflates, “she’s skipping sleep, remember? No more put downs, that’s why she’s being absolutely feral right now.”

You hum in agreement and look over at your little girl, who’s head is burrowed in the curve of your neck. “That’s true, but the pediatrician also said to not force her to stay awake so early, yeah?”

Rintaro whines in the back of his throat. You chuckle and head towards Kaiya’s bedroom, only stopping briefly to kiss your husband’s cheek. “You did great, my love. I’ll put her down and I’ll come right back out to take care of you.” He smiles softly and watches as you go. He stays put, like an obedient dog waiting for your command, hell he practically feels his invisible tail wagging at your return.

“Good boy,” you tease, grabbing his hand and bringing him to the couch. You sit down and smile easily, “okay. Tell me all about it.”

“They’re animals,” he groans, flopping on the couch next to you. “Literally. How do you deal with them everyday?”

You snort, “you get used to initiating the authority. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but-“ In the background, there’s a curse word that slips from Kaiya’s lips, followed by a crash in her bedroom, and Rintaro almost cries.

“God, we’re done, right?” He pants, flopping next to you on the couch. You laugh and shift over to gently card his hair through your nails.

“Done with what, baby?”

“We’re done,” he repeats. “No more kids. No more siblings. We’ve capped at two, that’s enough, they’re cute until their not, and we’re fine being aunts and uncles from now on.”

You smile down at Rintaro, continuing to card his soft locks. You don’t say anything though, only laughing again when one green eye peeks open.

“This is the point where you say ‘yes my beloved husband, we’re done, you’re getting a vasectomy tomorrow and laid every other night.’”

You continue to smile. He sits up, playfully afraid, before his eyes widen in realization.

“No.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know that look, it’s the same damn look you gave me when you bought our dogs, don’t lie to me, woman.”

You shake your head softly before he tries to make sense of the non-verbal news you’ve just shared with him.

“You’re… we’re having another baby?”

“Don’t be silly!” You scoff, swatting at his chest. “I wouldn’t make a big song and dance if we were having another baby!”

There’s a glimmer of sadness in his eye while he pretends to deflate in relief, hand clutching to his chest dramatically. He opens his mouth to speak while you dig through your purse in search for a small, yellow envelope. If he wasn’t wallowing in self pity, he’d ask what you were looking for, what you could’ve possibly picked up from the gynecologist to home.

You grab it, dig around for the small set of pictures and toss it onto his lap, letting him look and fully take in the pictures, eyes wide as saucers and hands trembling slightly.

Ultrasound pictures.

He looks up at you. You smile down with a nod.

“We’re having two.”

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ebullientheart · 11 months

Text

sleep mad. spencer reid x reader

content — hurt comfort. bau!reader. mention of bau case. short fic.

you don’t let spencer leave your hotel room after a fight.

it was a perfectly normal reaction, to storm out for fresh air after a tense argument. spencer didn’t expect you to literally scream ‘no!’ from behind him. he turned on his heel so fast, recognising the fear in your voice from case victims, preparing himself to see you being attacked. he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of tears, and no criminal presence.

when the two of you disagreed, it was almost always with quiet voices and levelled frustration. this time was no different. neither of you had yelled, cursed, or become enraged. it was irritation and exhaustion at the root of it, and it wasn’t worth the look on your face now. his own eyes shot wide in concern, spencer saw how you visibly trembled in the doorway, despite the evening being uncharacteristically warm, humid even. in the dingy light from the hotel hallway, he could hardly make out the contours of your face, but he could imagine what it must have looked like. why had you shouted?

you swiped messily at the damp rivets dug into your cheeks from the sudden fit of crying, effectively willing yourself to stop as you folded your arms defensively. your voice was wavering but firm as you said, “no. if you want space, i’ll go sit on the fire escape, but you can’t… you can’t leave this late spence.”

he raised a brow at you. usually, he disliked being told what to do, but that clearly wasn’t your intention here. spencer could clearly see the terror on your face, but he couldn’t decipher what you were so afraid of. so, forgetting the rule to not profile each other, he asked. you reached forward and tugged him into the room by his forearm, ever gentle, before spinning away to leave him be. but he didn’t want space anymore, he wanted answers.

“what’s going on?”

knowing you could never successfully lie to spencer, you sighed and dug your hands into your pockets. you felt guilty for not allowing him what he’d needed to cool off, but you couldn’t let him leave like that while working this case. each of the three victims left behind a brokenhearted spouse, each of which you’d been interviewing since eight that morning. the last was the worst, breaking down fully in jj’s arms, wracked with uncontrollable sobbing as they explained the last interaction they’d shared was a verbally vicious fight. their last words were venomous, and no peace was made.

“tell me.” spencer’s demand was soft. he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and your heart twisted as the new angle enunciated the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. you were sure you sported a matching pair.

you tried your best not to shut down, to communicate, “we… we see so many grievers. how many tell us that their last conversations were full of anger? they… can’t ever accept what happened, move on, because they never go to say ‘i love you’ that last time. they think the other died hating them. if we’re apart, and something happens, and our last words were just mean…”

he listened as you struggled through your explanation, but when you finally trailed off and dropped eye contact, he stood slowly. you heard him pad across the cheap carpet to get close enough to find the palm of your hand, and you let him take it in his own. a light rain had begun to batter the small window.

“you’re right,” spencer whispered, something you rarely hear when dating a genius, “you’re right. our lives are dangerous. but i don’t want us to fight anyway. i’m sorry.”

you sniffed and tried to not think about how pathetic you sounded when you repeated his final sentence back to him, equally as sincere.

spencer thumbed lightly at the dip between your eye and cheekbone, “i love you. now, and when we fight. i- i always love you.”

again, you echoed his sentiment, accompanying it with the sweetest kiss you could press to his jaw. your fingers curled into his hair, carefully undoing a tangle, and simultaneously undoing every knot of tense muscle in his body.

most couples just worried about going to sleep mad. you weren’t sure what it said that your worries centred around one of you being brutally murdered before making up, but you supposed that unique thought process just came with the territory. there was no blanket pulled over your eyes, the world wasn’t hiding it’s most sinister corners from you. or if it was, you sought them out. but those fears that usually haunted you just melted away when you held spencer. you were just like most couples.

two young adults, completely in love, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of your breaths in a crappy hotel, blissfully ignorant to the residents of the rooms either side of you grumbling about being awoken by your hallway confrontation.

a mess of entwined limbs, you eventually made it to bed, to sleep. one of you, or maybe both, uttered an “i love you” every few minutes. an enforced reminder to linger in your half-asleep state, lulling your minds to rest.

sleep came easy, for once.

#🤍ebullientheart #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #bau!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #fluff #spencer reid fluff #angst #spencer reid angst

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bonefall · 6 months

Note

I know you talked about Crowfeather's abuse to Breezepelt, but are you keeping Nightcloud's physical abuse against Crowfeather? In all their arguments, Nightcloud is the only one who ever gets physical with Crow. In the books, she rakes her claws against him a few times drawing blood. If I had been young Breeze and had seen that it'd be one of the things that would make me do my best to be and stay in my mother's good graces. Yeah, my dad may smack me but he never cuts me, never leaves me open for death by infection.

When?

Have you read the books you're confidently citing right now? Or did you hear this from some amoeba and then didn't check it before coming into my house

POWER OF THREE:

The Sight: 13 mentions. Takes Breezepaw's side in a small verbal argument, then scolds him for xenophobia. Is scared her only child almost died and insists on carrying him alone. Upset when Leafpool makes a flirtatious comment to her husband, soothes two kids to sleep

Dark River: 4 mentions. Exists on a patrol and Leafpool is jealous of her.

Outcast: 1 mention. Nicely says goodbye to Crowfeather as he stares off into the distance thinking about Feathertail.

Eclipse: 1 mention. Takes part in the eclipse battle with the rest of WindClan.

Long Shadows: Unmentioned.

Sunrise: 4 mentions. Hears the reveal at the gathering and looks "bewildered and angry." Crowfeather tells her that he, "Has no kits other than Breezepelt" and she pins her ears against her head.

Was it here? In one of these 23 mentions across 6 books? PLEASE point out the "Cuts Me, Leaving Me Open For Death By Infection." I'm SO curious.

OMEN OF THE STARS:

The Fourth Apprentice: Unmentioned.

Fading Echoes: 1 mention. Thinks Dovepaw disguised her scent.

Night Whispers: 6 mentions. Argues with Crowfeather at Gatherings. Leafpool comes across a fight between Breezepelt and Lionblaze and pleads to Crowfeather, "How can you watch your sons fight?!" Nightcloud jumps forward glaring, repeats that her husband has no kits other than Breezepelt. Leafpool jumps in front of a Breezepelt lunge. Crowfeather jumps in, grabs his son, and "throws him aside like prey" before bitterly mocking another love confession from Leafpool. Nightcloud drags Crowfeather off. Crowfeather turns on Nightcloud, hissing, and Breezepelt jumps between them and says, "leave my mother alone." Warns them, "Next time, we'll shred you!" Later says something rude about RiverClan at a Gathering.

Sign of the Moon: Unmentioned.

The Forgotten Warrior: 2 mentions. Glares at Hollyleaf twice.

The Last Hope: 6 mentions. Is on a patrol that finds Jayfeather in a thornbush and glares at him. Then Crowfeather says it was all actually HER fault that Breezepelt turned out to be such a little brat.

Which one of these 9 MENTIONS ACROSS 6 BOOKS are we going for, today? Was it the part in Night Whispers? Is THAT where she Cuts His Life Into Pieces This Is Her Last Resort?

Let's play I-Spy 🔎! Highlight all the places Nightcloud "draws blood!"

Which of the following characters in this passage are bleeding? Is Crowfeather any of them 🤔? No?

Is it here? Is it this part? Which of these cats are bleeding? Is it Crowfeather🪶? Is it Lionblaze🦁? Is it beloved Character Actress Margot Martindale💃?

Oh? You mean to tell me that you were misrepresenting a cat dragging away another cat as "RAKING HER CLAWS AGAINST HIM DRAWING BLOOD AND LEAVING HIM OPEN FOR INFECTIONS TO DIE"?

In other words, a lie?

Pulling a big lever and sending you down into The Nightcloud Derangement Pit. I will be further woobifying her unencumbered. The Nightcloud Agenda will spread. Soon we will take the west coast.

#Yes okay Crowfeather is abusive. But what about the nearest woman #what ABOUT the nearest woman.#If you ask me about the nearest woman I will already have her number and you will NOT be getting it #Nightcloud #warrior cats analysis #Nightcloud wc #And no. Being listed in the allegiances does not count as a mention.

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urdepressedslut · 11 months

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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part two❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other better, but Bucky is hesitant.

♡ Warnings: daddy issues, angst, mentions of parent death, fluff, bucky being a grumpy boi

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

Part 3

Italics are flashbacks

Your nails bit into your palm, crescent shapes left on your skin in attempt to hold your emotions back. The stare of your Father only made you feel small, the disappointment evident in his eyes.

“You know why this has to happen, right?” He asked you, annoyance laced in his tone.

You scoffed, trying to focus on the pain from your palms instead of the whirling emotions that threatened to escape.

“Father, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m a big girl.” You answered with some bite.

You were sick and tired of this sudden shift from him, he had changed after your Mothers passing. You understood completely, the death hitting him hard. But it wasn’t an excuse for him to be treating you like this, you lost your Mother too. Instead of both of you leaning on each other, he shut you out almost completely— leaving you to attempt to heal on your own.

He was acting as if buying you a house would fill the hole in your heart— acting like he was doing this for you. In reality, he just wanted nothing to do with you.

You didn’t need a house, you needed him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, exhaling loudly.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be. You know why.” He repeated, refusing to meet your now glossy eyes.

“I don’t want to live in a house all by myself! I want to stay with you!” You shouted, scared of being alone— in need of your Fathers comfort.

Your Father had called you in to talk with you about your new living conditions. To which, you were upset about the idea of living alone— away from your only family.

“You’re old enough to live on your own. I’ll provide you with everything you nee—”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that! I need you! I can’t do this alone!” You cried finally, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks.

“Don’t you dare use that language with me! You’re going to do as I say and shut your mouth, understand?” He boomed, and you flinched back from the loudness of his voice.

Your cries died down, only small hiccups here and there. You couldn’t help feeling your heart twinge in pain, his want to get rid of you hurting you deeply. You needed your Father more than ever— and he just didn’t care. You stared mindlessly at the floor, the familiar numbness starting to form in your fingertips, the tightness in your chest growing more intense.

He was willing to provide you everything you needed, except for the one thing you needed the most. His love.

You felt unwanted. You felt like a burden to him.

“Do I make myself clear?” He repeated, his voice sharp and angered.

You swallowed through your tight throat, knowing you wouldn’t be able to word any verbal response. You chose to nod weakly instead, keeping your eyes trained to the ground.

Pierce sighed in frustration, sitting back in his chair. He was stressed about your reactions to his plans, and decided that this conversation was over for now.

“That will be all, you can go.” He dismissed you.

You wanted to laugh in embarrassment, he didn’t even talk you like you were his daughter. He spoke to you like he did with his workers— like you were nothing.

Right now, that’s what you felt like. Nothing.

The car’s engine shutting off had woken you up, the drivers door shutting having you perk up in your seat. You straightened yourself in your seat, wiping the little bit of drool off your chin. You didn’t even realize you had dozed off.

You watched from the inside as Bucky moved swiftly to your door, opening it for you.

You swung your legs over the edge, hopping out of the car. You gave Bucky a smile, nodding in appreciation.

“Thank you.” You spoke to him, making your way up the concrete stairs to your house.

He only grunted in response, closing the door— and scanning the area. After the area seemed clear, he followed you up the stairs. The exterior of the house was quite impressive. He was aware that your Father had bought you the house— seeing as he was one of the richest men alive. But he wasn’t expecting the house the be so… you.

Again, he barely knew you. But your light presence seemed to match with this house very well.

He watched over your shoulder as you fiddled with your keys, finally unlocking the door and walking in— to which he followed close behind.

He quickly shut the door, turning and taking in the new environment. Your house.

It was a beautiful home inside as well as the outside, the walls intricate in their carved designs. The floors polished— free of any smudges. The only thing he found a little off, was the fact that there was minimal furniture.

Yes, there was a couch and some side tables here and there, but other than that— it was quite bare.

“I assume you’re going to be staying here?” You guessed, your assumption confirmed when Bucky nodded his head. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Will be delivered eventually.” He answered quickly.

You nodded in understanding, keeping the warm smile on your face.

“Well, help yourself to anything in the house. Its yours now— as well as mine.” You told him so kindly.

Bucky nodded in appreciation, but otherwise didn’t try and make any more conversation.

“Pick any room you’d like. Mine is the farthest room down the right hallway.” You informed him, pointing up the staircase.

He nodded again, staying silent.

It was going to be different having someone lurk around you at all times. But Bucky was so silent sometimes, you wondered if he was even there in the first place.

You took a deep breath, deciding to head into the library. Reading had always been the one thing that could calm you down, let yourself escape from reality for a little while. Your personal library within the house, was one of the things you were most proud of. It was grand and had so many selection of books to choose from. You smiled to yourself just thinking about it.

“I’m going to my library, please make yourself at home.” You told him.

“Very well ma’am.”

“You don’t have to do that, (Y/n)‘s just fine.” You corrected him politely.

“Okay (Y/n).” He tested out, watching your smile grow wider at the sound of your name rolling off his lips.

Giving him one last warm smile, you turned and headed to your library.

Bucky watched as you walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Which was never a good thing. He still didn’t know what to think of you. You just seemed too… chipper. There was a catch— there had to be. He didn’t know when he’d see the true you, but he was prepared for when the moment came.

So far, you were polite and overly kind. It just didn’t make sense— your Father had described so differently. Made Bucky wonder why?

Bucky had walked around the house, curious as to what the rest of the house looked like— along with picking his room out. He decided to pick one in the same hallway as yours, he assumed it was the most practical option— in case of emergencies.

After choosing his room, he made himself comfortable on the couch downstairs. He oddly enjoyed the silence, the only sound being his breathing.

The house was so quiet— too quiet. He furrowed his brows, deciding he should check up on you.

Making his way towards the library, he was amazed as he walked through the doorway— taking in the walls of books. He was quite the book worm himself, just never showing it off. He couldn’t argue with himself that he was obsessed with this room.

He found you quickly, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. You were curled up on a loveseat, nose buried into a book. You were so lost amongst the words— you hadn’t realized Bucky standing there.

He cleared his throat, making you jump— holding a hand to your chest in fright. He definitely enjoyed spooking you a little too much, as he fought down the urge to chuckle.

“Oh my god— Bucky! You scared me!” You breathed out, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry (Y/n), was just checking on you.” He informed you, turning to head out of the library.

But before he could make it too far, you called out for him.

“Wait! Bucky!” You shouted, making Bucky turn back around to face you, eyebrows up— waiting to see what you wanted. “Sit with me?”

He squinted his eyes, about to remind you that he was working a job. But your soft, desperate voice struck a chord within him.

“Please?” You pleaded, your smile dropping just slightly. Enough for Bucky to notice.

He’d let it pass this time, but he was going to hold himself accountable. He would not slack off, he would not fail at this job.

With a huff he nodded, sitting on the couch across from the loveseat. You were smiling widely now, shimming in excitement in your seat.

“Um… I thought it would be a good idea to get to know each other better.” You suggested with a hopeful smile.

“No.” Bucky shot back.

You flinched slightly back, not expecting that harsh of an answer. Your smile faltered little. You were starting to see your Father in Bucky— with the mood swings and all.

“Why not?” You asked him.

He squinted his eyes at you— something he seemed to do a lot towards you. He was trying to think of a reasonable excuse, but his mind came up empty. He just simply didn’t want to get to know you. He wanted things to stay professional— keeping his distance. For his sake.

“No.” He repeated.

You rolled your eyes with a light chuckle, a sound that had Bucky’s chest all warm.

“We are going to spending a lot of time together, it’s only fair that we trust each other— and I can’t trust you if I don’t know anything about you.” You explained, making a good point.

Bucky clenched his jaw, knowing you were right.

“Fine.” He gave in, leaning his arms on the back of the couch.

You smiled to yourself, pleased that you had convinced him— yet again.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked him, causing him to scoff.

He tilted his head in amusement. He thought it was a silly thing to know about someone, but he also was stalling because he didn’t have one. He wondered for a moment what was wrong with him, everyone had a favorite color. Even if not a favorite— there was always a color people were drawn to. But not him.

He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a book cover with a withering tree, the background lavender.

“Purple.” He revealed finally, hoping you wouldn’t notice his lie. Was it a lie? Purple could be his favorite.

You smiled, setting your book down to the table next to you.

“Like a dark purple or a pastel purple— a lighter purple?” You pried, fully serious.

Bucky felt the corners of his mouth twitch, and he had to fight the smile down. He couldn’t help it, seeing your serious face. Interrogating him about a color. It was cute.

“Does it matter?” He asked genuinely, and he watched your mouth open in an O shape. Your eyes staring at him like he just said the most ridiculous thing.

“Does it matt— Bucky. Of course it matters, a person’s favorite color says a lot about them. About what type of person they are. About their secrets.” You whispered the last part.

Bucky squinted his eyes again, this time defensively. Your words were playful, but he couldn’t help but feel self conscious. Your stare all of a sudden felt like you could see right through him.

“Really?” He asked seriously, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

He genuinely looked freaked out for a second there, and you couldn’t contain the laughter. Bucky on the other hand, didn’t find amusement in the situation. He was slightly embarrassed that you were laughing at him, but kept his features neutral.

“No, I’m just messing with ya!” You told him, breathless from laughing. “Seriously, what kind of purple?”

He rolled his eyes, genuinely annoyed. But he couldn’t help but feel so carefree around you, he felt lighter. It almost felt like he wasn’t working a job, and just letting go.

“Light purple.” He told you, watching you nod. “What about yours?”

He dared to ask, knowing you’d probably go on a full tangent about your favorite color and why it was your favorite.

You thought for a moment, looking up to the ceiling in thought.

“Red.” You answered quickly.

Bucky waited for a moment, waiting for you to begin rambling— but you never did.

“Light… dark?” He mirrored, just as you had asked him. But he found himself genuinely curious.

You shook your head, fiddling with your fingers.

“Just red.” You said blankly, readjusting your legs so they were crisscrossed.

Your words from earlier rung through his head, and he knew you were obviously joking— but he did feel that someone’s favorite color said a lot about them. He just didn’t know what yours, said about you.

“What made you wanna be a bodyguard?” You asked him, catching him off guard with the question.

He thought hard for a moment, seeing if he could even come up with an answer. He had done a lot of things throughout his life, each moment having meaning behind it. Each path having a story of why he ended up there. But being a bodyguard? Sure, he had experience but— it wasn’t that easy of an answer.

“Your Father needed someone for the job.” He answered. “I have years of experience as well.”

His answer was quite pathetic, but you didn’t seem the type to judge. You simply nodded along, listening intently like he was saying the most interesting things.

“Well, I’m sure he was very happy that he found you.” You told him with that warm smile of yours.

“You have a nice home.” He pointed out, deciding to change the conversation.

You smiled, looking around your library in pride.

“Thank you. My Father gifted this place to me.” You told him.

“How nice of him.” Bucky thought out loud.

You let your eyes drop to the floor, trying your hardest to keep the smile from dropping. You wished more than anything that you could associate good memories with your Father. All the good memories you had left, were beginning to vanish.

“Yes, he’s a wonderful Father.” You expressed, hating that no matter what went on— you’d always love him.

Bucky listened to you answer him, while he also watched as your face would drop at the mention of him. It was a flash of happiness that looked trapped within this dull expression that would take over your features. You spoke about him like he was only a dream, something of your imagination.

He wanted to pry— but he knew he shouldn’t.

“It’s been uh… hard for him since my Mother passed.” You revealed solemnly, while attempting to keep your features light.

Bucky grew tense at your confession, his own wounds throbbing from the mere mention of your Mother. Despite his discomfort, he stayed silent.

“He tries to put on a good face but— I know he’s hurting. He’s a powerful man but, even he needs a break.” You explained, picking the skin around your nails.

Bucky noticed the way you’d talk about your Father, and your Mother’s passing. The way you were trying to act unbothered. Truthfully, you were good at hiding how you truly felt— but he could still read people well. He knew you were hurting deep down.

You weren’t sure why you felt secure around Bucky. He was a man of few words, and rather let his presence do the talking. He was a reserved guy from what you could tell, but along with that— he was also a good listener. You were also lonely, deprived of human interaction. You didn’t care if he was being paid to be around you, you’d take advantage of the company. Even if it hurt that it wasn’t really real.

“Sorry— he’d probably kill me if he knew I told you that. He’s all about his image, being the tough guy and all. Just forget I said anything.” You rushed out, realizing what you were exposing.

“Don’t worry about it.” He assured you, knowing he’d never utter a word of anything you said.

“So, what about your family?” You shot at him, and Bucky felt attacked.

He squinted his eyes, glaring at you slightly. He knew you didn’t mean any harm with the question— but he couldn’t help the the way his mind filled with dark thoughts.

“No.” He huffed, watching you shrink back back into your seat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I—”

“I need to get back to work.” He lied, there was nothing for him that needed to be done.

You watched as he got up quickly and stomped away, a scowl etched on his face. You assumed his family was a sensitive topic, and you respected that. Although, you didn’t mean to upset him.

Bucky was mysterious and it made you want to bring him out of his shell, unlock the deepest parts of him. His presence lured you in, making you want to learn everything about him.

Bucky made his way out of the library, angry with himself. Your question was surprisingly not what had him upset, it was the fact that he started to feel comfortable enough to answer it.

There was something about you that had him slowly melting, the walls that he’d built starting to crumble in your presence. He wouldn’t allow that, he couldn’t.

☀️A/N: pls let me know if i forgot to put you on the taglist, and i’ll add you for the next one!

TAGLIST: @winters1917 @unaxv @sebastianstansqueen @casa-boiardi @sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells

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joelscruff · 11 months

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wait (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

first and foremost! this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place after "words". this won't really make sense if you haven't read that one! it's so crazy to me how this started out as a silly little smutty drabble and somehow became this. this one's kind of heavy (read the warnings!!) but i promise that things won't stay this angsty forever. at its root this story is supposed to be smutty and fun and i promise there will be more of that in the future. i hope you enjoy it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: it's been a month since your boyfriend discovered your relationship with his father and a month since you've seen joel. it's starting to take its toll. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, sexting, comeplay, angst, allusions to past trauma, shitty family dynamics (addiction & verbal abuse), panic attacks word count: 3.2k

i miss you

it's the only thing you've thought about texting him for about a month, a text you always type out and then erase a few moments later. it's something you swore to yourself that you wouldn't do no matter how lonely you got. he'd said he needed time, and you want to give it to him. and yet here you are, leaning against the window of your bus home from community college with tears in your eyes, phone in hand, wanting nothing more than to see him. selfish.

it's been one of the loneliest periods of your life. you've known loneliness, felt it throughout most of your childhood, through your adolescence, it's nothing new. but with joel you'd finally begun to feel whole again, like you actually mattered to someone. he looked forward to seeing you, to holding you, being with you. you'd never felt so desired and loved and protected in your whole life.

now you're back to having nothing, no one. it's a harsh reality you're forcing yourself to accept. you still haven't heard anything from your boyfriend - now ex, of course, though there was never any official breakup - and even that's a punch to the gut, an added depth to a loss that you caused.

he's hurting, i hurt him, joel's words repeat in your head. it breaks your heart that he's feeling so guilty, that he feels that he caused this entire thing when it's really your fault. if you weren't such a mess of a person, such a broken human being, the whole thing wouldn't have even happened to begin with. what kind of person sleeps with their boyfriend's father? starts a relationship with him? calls him daddy?

you know you caused this and yet you can't help but miss him so much. it's like he's ingrained himself into your bones somehow, his touch tattooed into your skin. he's all you think about, dream about. you miss being in his embrace, being held by him, whispering daddy in his ear and feeling understood, not judged. you miss his gentle kisses to your nose, the safety of his lap, his arms around your trembling form while he fucked you, took you, made you his.

you stare at the unsent text message and inevitably find yourself scrolling back up to a previous conversation from a few months back, short and simple. texting was never a frequent medium for the two of you, more-so used for you to send him dirty pictures every so often to tease him a bit. you briefly look at the picture, a close-up shot of your bare pussy with some of his come leaking out; absolutely filthy.

still have u inside me daddy

oh baby, so messy. what am I gonna do with you?

you smile at the silliness of it all, the filthiness, but it quickly fades when you remember the reality of the situation again, the fact that your boyfriend had read joel's messages, had definitely seen these texts in particular. he'd called joel a sick man. you don't agree, but you can understand why; if you'd seen a text interaction like this between your own father and a girl half his age... you'd probably have a similar reaction - though the concept of your father showing a woman any affection in the first place is alien in itself.

your bus pulls up to the stop near your house and you get off, slipping your phone back into your pocket and hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you go. it's only a short walk to your house, no more than three minutes, though you usually try to make it a bit longer to delay the inevitable disaster of your home life.

you take it one step at a time, slowly walking down the darkening street with fresh tears in your eyes. god, you're so lonely. you don't want to go home, don't want to be accosted by your alcoholic father and avoidant mother, your asshole brother who never gives you a break. it's so damn depressing in that house; when you'd first gotten together with your boyfriend you'd been so relieved to finally have somewhere else to go that wasn't school or home, another reason you'd stayed with him for so long despite the relationship being doomed. you should have known it couldn't last.

you'd told joel everything. it's hard to believe sometimes that the connection you shared was strong enough for you to trust him with some of your darkest secrets, the worst things from your past. he knows all about your family, all about what you've been through, had listened to you quietly and earnestly as you cried into his shoulder about the hand life had dealt you. he'd rubbed your back, kissed your forehead, whispered it's okay, and i'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart. and he did. he did take care of you. he'd done everything right and somehow you still managed to fuck it up.

the lights are on in the house when you arrive at the front gate, though the car is missing from the driveway; this only means that your mother is out late tonight, probably staying with a friend or a lover or whoever she turns to when shit gets bad. you can't blame her - you'd done the exact same thing when you'd actually had somewhere to go - but part of you still aches for that little girl inside you that needs her, wishes she was inside waiting for you, though it's not like she'd do much to help.

your father is definitely home, probably your brother as well. you stand at the gate, gripping the strap of your backpack and deliberating even bothering to go inside. you know you'll be accosted at the front door by either a drunken tirade or bitter argument. it's a no-win situation no matter how you look at it. your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, grateful for one last brief distraction.

i miss you too, angel. so much.

your eyes go wide, heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at the words.

"fuck," you breathe, "fuck, fuck fuck," you quickly scroll up to confirm your fears - the i miss you text, the one you always erase, the one you make sure to never send - you'd somehow sent it this time, entirely by mistake.

tears are stinging your eyes as you turn on the spot and start walking back and forth in front of your house, running your hand through your hair in disbelief while you stare at joel's text. you fucking idiot. what the fuck have you done? what happened to giving him space? you stupid fucking bitch. you absolute loser. you're suddenly berating yourself the exact same way you know your father and brother will berate you if you go in the house now. you can already picture it - them seeing your tear stained cheeks, the puffiness of your eyes, the words they'll throw at you to hurt you even more, make you feel small.

fucking bitch. fucking loser. fucking idiot.

your breathing is becoming more and more erratic the longer you pace. you can't go in now, not after this, not after seeing that he misses you too and being so fucking close yet so far away. all you can suddenly think about is all those wasted moments at his house, spending so much time with your asshole boyfriend when you could have been with joel, been loved instead of tossed aside like garbage.

god, if you could only hear his voice. if you could just talk to him for one minute before you have to go into this godforsaken hellhole.

before you even fully understand what you're doing, you're hitting the call button and bringing the phone up to your ear.

he answers on the first ring.

"h-"

"i can't do this anymore," you gasp out through a sob, not even bothering to let him say anything, "joel, i can't do it, i miss you so fucking much it hurts."

"babygirl," he breathes, voice rough and deep and gorgeous and familiar, sweet like honey in your ear, "where are you? are you okay?"

and that's enough to break you.

you feel the tears begin to stream down your face, hot and unrelenting. you shake your head even though he can't see you, throat bobbing through repetitive gasps, "no, i'm not okay," you blubber, "da- fuck, joel, i- i can't do this, i can't be by myself anymore. i'm - " you don't even know where this is coming from, voice muddled, "i'm so lonely. i can't do it anymore, i can't. please, i can't."

he makes a devastating sound at your words, something between a sob and a gasp, "where are you?" he repeats, voice full of concern, "where are you, baby? i'm gonna come get you."

"the bus stop by my house," you manage to tell him through your tears, reaching the little bench and situating yourself on it without an ounce of hesitation, "i was- i was gonna go home but," another sob rips through your throat, "but they're home and i- i can't- i can't take it anymore, joel. i don't wanna be there anymore, i can't be there."

"you stay where you are, you hear me?" you can hear movement on the other line, the rattle of keys, footsteps, "don't go home, babygirl, i'm comin'. i'll be there in ten minutes."

"okay," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, "okay."

"deep breaths, baby, remember?" and you do remember; he'd taught you some exercises to help in situations like this, when you feel like the world is falling apart around you and you're just getting smaller and smaller, disappearing into nothingness. he'd held your hands while you'd sat in his lap, eyes closed as you both matched each other's breathing, melted into one another. "in and out, babygirl, that's it. real slow, count for me."

"i r-remember," you manage to hiccup, squeezing your chest with your other hand and trying to ground yourself.

the wait is excruciating, no matter how short, and no matter the fact that joel is on the other end trying to calm you. you sit on the bench with a hand on your heart and the other on your stomach, listening to joel count to five over and over, phone upturned on your thigh.

"big breath in. one...two...three...four...five," he says through the muffled sounds of traffic and wind, "big breath out. one...two...three...four...five." over and over and over again, "i'm turnin' the corner, baby, i'm almost there," he says after about ten minutes of this, "you see me, honey?"

you look up to find his headlights, getting brighter and brighter as they approach. you shakily sit up from the bench, breath coming out much less erratic now, "y-yes," you whisper.

seconds later the car is pulling up in front of you and he's jumping out, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he dashes around it. it's been so long since you've seen him that it's jarring to suddenly have him in front of you, sprinting toward your small and shaking form with his jacket undone, shoes mismatched, glasses askew. you catch a glimpse of his expression, concerned and upset - are those tears? - before he scoops you up into his arms and pulls you in close to him.

"i'm here," he tells you, voice rumbling through his chest against your cheek, solid and warm, "i'm here now, babygirl, you're okay. you're okay."

and somehow you are.

"i'm sorry," is all you can say to him as he drives you to his house, hand holding yours tightly the whole way, "i'm such an idiot, i'm so sorry."

"stop saying that," he repeats for maybe the fourth time, shaking his head and squeezing your hand even more firmly, "you're not an idiot and you have nothing to be sorry about."

you really are okay now, breaths calm and tears not even flowing anymore. instead the guilt and shame and humiliation have taken over, sinking into your skin as you lean back in the passenger seat with your hood pulled up, hiding your face from him.

"i was giving you space," you mutter, "i didn't even mean to text you, it was an accident. i was being stupid, as usual."

"stop it," he says again, "stop being mean to yourself."

you close your eyes and face away from him, "easier said than done."

the two of you drive in silence for a few moments, that is until he asks, "have you eaten?" and you say, "no."

he buys you mcdonalds and doesn't let go of your hand.

the house hasn't changed. you hadn't really expected it to; it's not like it's been that long since you were last here. you don't bother even sneaking a peek at your ex boyfriend's bedroom as joel leads you upstairs, curiosity nonexistent.

you're not sure why you expect him to take you into his office, maybe sit on the couch with you and talk. to your surprise he leads you straight past the door, down the hallway to what you can only assume is his bedroom - a place you've never been in all your months of being with him.

"sit down," he tells you softly as he opens the door, pulling you slowly inside and nodding toward the queen sized bed, "i'll get you something to wear."

"okay," you breathe, barely looking at him as you examine the room in front of you, large but cozy, cool colors but a warm atmosphere, framed music posters and blueprints covering the walls - exactly what you'd expect from someone like joel. you shuffle forward and drop your bag at the end of his bed, sitting on the edge of it while he goes to his dresser.

you end up in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of his underwear, loving the feeling of being his again, even if neither of you have actually talked about what exactly this means for your relationship. he helps you change, tugging off your worn-out jeans and the same shirt you've worn for three days in a row, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls off your panties and replaces them with his boxers. it's not sexual, but part of you still longs to pull him on top of you, just feel his weight, smell his cologne.

he pulls back the duvet and helps you climb inside onto your stomach, rubbing your arms and shoulders and releasing some of the tension you've been feeling for the past month. you feel him press another kiss to the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way and stroking it gently, giving you all the care and attention you've been aching for. his hands are so big, so comforting and safe, touching you everywhere without any expectations or underlying motive.

"i missed you, daddy," you whisper against his pillow, not sure if he can even hear you, even more unsure whether it's okay to use that word anymore.

he doesn't reply right away, still kneading his thumbs into the base of your back and massaging you gently. you hear him inhale and exhale deeply a few times, like he's biding time while he figures out what to say.

"sorry," you wince, "joel."

he releases you then, helps you turn over so you're on your back and peering up at him with uncertainty. he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down to thumb your cheek, eyes sad and tired.

"i wanna be that for you, sweetheart," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "i do. i want it more than you even realize," he takes a breath, biting down on his lip briefly, "i just... i need you to tell me somethin'. be honest with me now."

your heart skips a beat, "what?"

"when you said you loved me..." his voice breaks a bit and you ache to reach for him, cup his cheek and hold him close, "was it because of what we've been doin'?" he seems to reassess his words, shaking his head slightly, "i mean, did it...did you actually mean it? or was it... was it just part of the game?"

you stare at him for a few seconds, lips parting and eyes going slightly wide. without a second thought you do exactly what you'd just been thinking about, reaching up to place your hand against his face, feeling his scruff beneath your palm. he leans in and takes a breath, peering into your eyes with a yearning you can't describe, can only feel.

you shake your head slowly, "joel," you whisper, "it's never been a game."

his eyes close, stuttering out another breath when your thumb strokes his cheek soothingly. unable to hold back anymore, you lean up to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, sweet and tender and familiar. his hand finds the back of your head, pulls you closer, claims you again.

he fucks you slow.

it's never been like this, never has he fucked you the way he fucks you now. you barely speak, just moan and whimper and sigh and melt into each other the way you've never truly been able to, not without prying ears and a time limit hanging over your heads. your hands tangle in his hair while he hits that deep spot inside you, holds you close, buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, pounds into you relentlessly like you'll both come apart at the seams if he lets go.

you're biting it back, trying not to say it as much as you desperately want to, still unsure if this is really want he wants. just tell me what to do and i'll do it. i don't care, i'm yours. he looks into your eyes and you can't help but start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the safety. he thumbs your tears and kisses them away.

"say it," he murmurs to you as you both near your inevitable release, the tension building and building as he grabs your face with both hands and fucks you with purpose, with passion, "say it, babygirl, tell me."

you shake your head, suddenly self conscious, suddenly afraid. the feelings from earlier tonight rise back in your chest, making a home in the back of your throat as a sob threatens to rip through it.

"it's okay," he whispers, voice trembling with the speed of his thrusts, "it's okay, honey, i wanna hear you say it," he furrows his brow and releases a groan, so close to the edge, "please, baby, say it. need you to say it."

you pull him close, grip his back, press your lips to his ear, "daddy."

he groans, dark and rough, "that's it," he murmurs, "that's it baby, i'm your daddy. that's right." he pulls back to look at you, eyes meeting yours in a passionate gaze that lasts forever, "say it again."

"daddy," you whine, unable to unlock your eyes from his, lip trembling as you submit entirely to him, "feels so good, daddy."

there's something in his expression you can't place, something in his words that reverberates in your brain like a pinball. say it again... you realize it means more than you'd initially thought. he's not just asking you to say one word - he's asking for three.

"i love you," you cry out just as he presses his thumb to your clit, pushes you over the edge, "i love you."

he comes just as you do, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as your fingers scramble for purchase at his back, holding him impossibly close to the point where his entire body weight is on top of you, but you don't care. all you can feel is the way his heart beats against your chest, the way his gasps match yours, finding the same rhythm.

you lay there still for what feels like eternity, joel laying on top of you with his cock still deep inside and his forehead pressed against your shoulder. your tears have stopped but you feel the dampness of his own on your skin, hear the gasp he lets out as he sets his emotions free.

"i love you too," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and quick, voice wrecked, "god, i love you so much."

for the first time, you stay the night.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: bd!joel

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hunnylagoon · 5 months

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving' or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

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mockerycrow · 1 year

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hii! i love the way you describe the 141 so far, and i would love to see how you would write an konig, ghost, soap, price and alejandro reaction and headcanons with a s/o who has an accent?

i taught myself english from a young age so i never really had someone to practice with, so my accent is very strong (im from south america, which also helps lol) and i would like to see how the cod boys can react to this in your style <33

Reader With An Accent - MWII

GIF BY: @collinnmckinley - masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience and thank you for liking my writing!! please let me know if i executed this right!! i am american and i don’t want to misrepresent. also this is lowkey coded for people w/ accents from non-english speaking countries, so sorry everyone who is from a english speaking country and has an accent oops — i also kinda took your “i taught myself english from a young age” for alejandro’s chunk. hope that’s ok!

König

König wouldn’t react to your accent very much, unless it’s a very thick accent because then he would have trouble understanding you.

If your accent is thick, he probably asks you repeat yourself a couple of times; English isn’t his first language either, so I can imagine maybe a couple of times you both sit there in silence with each other because neither of you guys can understand each other. He has a semi-thick accent, too.

Sometimes, he does understand you but he just wants to hear you continue to talk.

Maybe König and you practice English together, while teaching each other your native languages on accident. You guys didn’t mean to, but you end up trying to explain what a word is in your different languages and by the end of it, you begin to understand full sentences in german; the same for him with your language.

He considers this a bonding experience :)

Ghost

Like König, he probably wouldn’t react to your accent too much unless it was incredibly thick. Ghost has met all different types of people and his native language is English, so he has a better understanding of what you’re trying to say, but he pokes fun at you like he pokes fun at Soap.

On the topic of Soap, you two together is his worst nightmare.

“Speak English.” Is his favorite phrase when you are speaking English, but your accent is just overpowering literally everything.

You like to throw his words back into his face when he says some sort of British slang—you get a surprisingly loud chuckle out of him when you pick up some of his slang. He thinks it’s funny whenever anyone who isn’t British begins to talk like him.

If Ghost isn’t already fluent in your language, he pretty much becomes damn near fluent by the time you’ve known him for a good couple of months. He picks this stuff up easily.

Soap

Oh, this would be actual hell on Earth. Not for you two, but for the others.

Soap doesn’t comment on your accent initially, but you two begin to share a brain cell and a half (on accident) when Ghost’s eyes show visible frustration.

“He can barely understand me, the two of’us will be a real party trick!”

You and Soap gang up on everyone else if your accent is thick. He understands the frustration of people not understanding you.

Sometimes it takes Soap a moment to process what you’re saying, but he only asks you to repeat yourself a couple of times. (He has a good method of deciphering words, even if he cannot understand through an accent).

Soap likes to teach you his Scot phrases and you teach him your own in return.

Price

He gives you an eyebrow raise as a reaction, but that’s about it. Price has worked with so many people all over the world, he doesn’t really care to comment on your accent.

Price has gotten pretty good at understanding thick accents through the years, so he probably only asks you to slow your speaking when giving him a verbal report about something.

Price 100% is the type to accidentally pronounce something wrong but say it with full confidence and you always correct him, leaving him dumbfounded.

“My lips just don’t move that way, love.”

It’s likely he’s fluent in your language so he doesn’t mind if you talk to him in it; just give him a few seconds to translate in his head, okay?

Alejandro

If you meet outside of a total progressional setting, he probably has the most reaction to your accent out of anyone.

Alejandro’s language is a very big part of him so he assumes it’s the same for anyone else.

Alejandro doesn’t have an incredibly thick accent, but he knows people who do and he’s known them for years, so it’s easier for him to understand than a lot of other people.

If you taught yourself English and you end up pronouncing something wrong, Alejandro casually corrects you to help you out. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, he knows sometimes people get embarrassed from it. His first language isn’t English either, so he understands the struggle.

He DOES start laughing if you try to pronounce something that you so clearly cannot, even after being corrected.

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