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He might not pay rent around here, but he sure is handy...
Roomate!Toji x reader
cw: gn!reader, crack(?), implied smutty stuff, flirty asshole Toji, reader yells a lot, mention of fleshlight (used), not proofread lols
"Toji motherfucking Fushiguro!"
Your voice rang trough your shared apartment.
Toji, used to this by now just let out a grunt from the living room... in which he was sprawled out on the couch of.
"Yeah?"
You had came home from work and the first thing that greeted you were the trash bags he had promised to take out while you were gone.
That promise was about 8 hours ago.
"Get your bum ass over here!" You scoffed, not leaving the spot you were standing in, coat and bag haphazardly hung up.
You could hear the couch groan as he got up, followed by a yawn and heavy footsteps over to the entryway. Toji looked like he had had the worlds best nap, hair messy and in all directions, sleep still glossing over his eyes and his hand was scratching as his belly... that toned and defined and hot ab ridden belly-
You blinked, shaking your head to snap out of it.
"Well?"
"Well what, babe?"
"Don't call me babe!" You scoff, pointing a finger at the bags. "Out. Now."
Your tone was final.
Toji, lips already flickering down into a small pout, wanting to protest-
"Don't start, i'm gonna bring up rent again." You glared.
He let out a small grunt in response, easily hooking the bags on a few of his thick fingers and padding to the door behind you, quietly sighing before leaving to go take the trash outside.
Listen, living with Toji wasn't all that bad. He mostly kept to himself and only sometimes left his boxers laying around and only sometimes got a bit too loud when he was watching some sports channel. He did leave the place to go to the gym, even went grocery shopping if you sent him.
You wonder if he even dates... you never see him texting or calling anyone too.
Only bad part? Never paid rent on time. Or just didn't pay at all.
When he isn't being a lazy bastard, he gets handy and fixes thing around the apartment or even your car... things that would cost a fortune.
So you turn a blind eye when he misses a few months of paying.
A lazy weekend, nothing exciting going on.
You wanted to take a niceeee longggg hot shower to loosen up a bit after the hectic work week.
You stood naked in the shower, music playing on your phone from the counter.
Squeeeek.
Water was supposed to come out.
Where's the water?
Squeek squeek turn crank PULL.
Nothing.
The shower was broken.
You, out of frustration didn't think much and did what any other sane person would do in this situation.
Call your at-home-plumber.
"TOOOJIII!!"
The sound of someone taking their sweeeeet time walking over from his room reached your hearing.
Only the second before the doorhandle to the bathroom turned you remembered you didn't have clothes on.
"W..WAIT DONT COME IN!" You panic, grabbing into the shower curtains to use it as some sort of cover.
"Too late."
The door was pushed open and a smug looking Toji waltzed in, looking relaxed as ever. His eyes zeroed in on your embarrassed face and the way you were trying not to flash him anything.
"You called me to come help wash your back or somethin'? Cute."
You tried to shoo him away but the bastard had already stepped further into the room.
To your surprise he actually glanced to the shower head and the tap, as if examining it.
"Is it acting up again?" He asked while wiggling the squeaky thing around.
You nodded, still peeking behind the shower curtains.
"Be a doll and go get the toolbox, yeah?" he grinned, glancing over his shoulder at you.
"Go get it yourself! I need to put my robe on-"
"Nah, i ain't fixing it if you don't get me my box."
That... UGH.
You frowned, starting to shimmy out of the shower stall... dragging the curtain with you.
"Stop watching! Such a perv..." you complained under your breath.
Toji just chuckled, making a show of leaning back against the tiles, sharp eyes latched on to your form. "Cmon, pipe isn't gonna fix itself... yknow."
You almost hissed at him.
The towel and counter was right there...
You quickly let go of the plasticy material and grabbed the towel instead, rushing out while barely covering your ass with it.
Toji whistled after you, not even needing to look back at him to him he had on some sort of smug look.
But while you were gone, he worked on checking the issue, knowing you'd get even pissier if you couldn't shower sooner than later.
You wrapped yourself up in the cotton thing, bare feet padding trough the hallway and down to the last door. Toji's room.
You rarely went there... who goes into a bummy, lazy, burly...sweaty.. man's room anyways? Alone, nonetheless.
You shoved open the door, met with the sight of his actually.. not that messy floor.
A few socks and shorts here and there. A dumbell or two.
You make your way to the shelf he keeps his tools and random shit on.
You had to pass by the bed.
You were a bit curious and peeked over to the soft thing.
Nothing sus.
You looked back, sighing as the toolbox was on the highest shelf. Obviously.
Now, you weren't some little weak y/n, but you know that box was heavyyy as hell.
Turning around to try and see what you could use to step on, you walked up to his little dresser besides the bed.
On close inspection it was safe to drag over.
But then on ANOTHER close inspection, a drawer was open.
Who peeks in men's drawers?
You do.
A fleshlight.
A DAMN POCKET PUSSY WAS SHOVED IN IT.
It looked like it had some wet residue on the outside- HOLD ON STOP.
Think.
Why would that be here.
oh i dont know
probably because Toji was using it before you had called him over to help with the shower.
You tried to calm down the sudden rush of heat to your face and eartips, roughly slamming the thing shut and using your newfound strength to pull the dresser to the shelves.
He could reorganize his furniture when he gets that damn shower running again.
Toolbox acquired.
You stumble back with the heavy thing, towel holding on for dear life after all your activities.
You finally got to the shower door.
The moment you dropped the box on the tiled floor....
The shower head made a sound.
And water started to run.
A cocky toji, flexing his hand, stood in front of the shower curtains.
"All fixed."
Your face dropped.
Your eye twitched.
"SO YOU MADE ME DRAG THIS SHIT ALL THE WAY OVER HERE AND YOU FIX IT WITH YOUR STUPID HANDS?"
Your screech was defiantly heard by the upstairs neighbours. They loved you.
Toji loved you too. Especially how you hadn't even noticed the damn towel slipping down in your fit of rage.
"Yeah, all it took was a little twist. Nothing crazy."
"You look good, by the way."
He smirked, making a show of dragging his eyes across your bare body, lingering right between your thighs.
Your anger turned to confusion, quickly looking down. Oh. That traitorous piece of fabric had pooled around your ankles.
You just accepted your fate and let out a deep...deeeeep....exhale.
"At least i don't fuck my fleshlight instead of actual flesh..." you murmured, not glancing back to him.
"You wanna help me change habits?"
Yoon's notes: oh my god i hope i did gn reader justice
FOR MY SEXY DADA: @cactusvolumes I HOPE U LIKE IT IM SORRY IT TURNED INTO CRACK
art: @/v0idzenin on 𝕏, @/hunnismoker on ig, idk the one with toji laying down, help
synopsis: in which your new roommate is stupidly hot, fucks a different girl almost every other night, and the walls between your rooms are painfully thin. now you’re stuck listening to heeseung ruin someone else while slowly losing your mind… and your sanity.
genre/cw: roommate au, fuckboy!heeseung, heavy sexual tension, slow burn, smut, angst, mutual masturbation, voyeurism (accidental), dirty talk, possessiveness, jealousy, multiple smut scenes, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, marking, slight corruption kink, heeseung is a massive tease, reader is sexually frustrated, strong language, minors dni.
a/n: hii loves <3 this fic took over my brain in the best way possible. the tension was too good to keep it short so here we are. thank you for waiting and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡
Now playing -
♪ One Of The Girls — The Weeknd, Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp
♪ Heaven — Julia Michaels
♪ Slow Down — Chase Atlantic
The apartment smelled like stale beer, cheap cologne, and regret.
It clung to the walls.
To the couch.
To the cracked kitchen counter littered with empty cans and takeout boxes that had been sitting there long enough to become part of the furniture.
You stood in the doorway of your bedroom with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, fingers digging into your sleeves while your roommate stumbled through the apartment like a ghost haunting his own bad decisions.
“Fuck,” Minho muttered, kicking an empty soju bottle across the floor.
It slammed against the wall with a sharp clatter that made you flinch. “Where’s my phone…”
It was 2:47 a.m.
Again.
He laughed at absolutely nothing, swaying slightly as he checked under couch cushions and inside cabinets as if his phone had magically teleported into the kitchen sink.
You closed your eyes for a second.
Four nights in a row.
Four nights of drunken strangers crowding the living room.
Four nights of loud music vibrating through the walls.
Four nights of Minho getting too close when he talked to you, his breath heavy with alcohol while he leaned against your bedroom doorframe saying things that made your stomach twist.
You’d started locking your door every night.
Started sleeping with headphones in.
Started memorizing the quickest route from your room to the apartment exit just in case. And maybe that sounded dramatic, but fear had a way of making everything feel sharp around the edges.
You couldn’t do this anymore.
The next morning, you called Jake while speed-walking to work, coffee sloshing dangerously in your cup.
“Dude,” you said before he could even say hello, “I need a new place. Like immediately.”
Jake snorted. “Good morning to you too.”
“I’m serious. My roommate is a drunk disaster and I genuinely think I’m one bad night away from becoming a true crime documentary.”
That got his attention.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you said quickly. “That’s the problem. I keep waiting for something to happen.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then-
“Actually…” Jake dragged the word out thoughtfully. “I think I know someone.” You nearly cried from relief right there on the sidewalk.
“My friend Heeseung’s roommate moved out recently. Moved in with his girlfriend or something. He’s looking for someone to take the spare room.”
“Is it affordable?”
“Shockingly.”
“Is it clean?”
“Very.”
“Does he murder people?”
Jake laughed. “Not that I know of.”
“Perfect. Send me the address.”
“Wait,” Jake said quickly, “there’s something you should probably know first—”
“Jake, I love you,” you interrupted. “You’re a lifesaver.” And then you hung up before he could finish.
The apartment building was only twelve minutes away from your office.
Twelve.
You almost wanted to kiss the sidewalk.
The building itself was modern and quiet-looking, all clean windows and soft lighting in the lobby. The kind of place where people probably recycled properly and didn’t blast EDM at three in the morning.
Already an upgrade.
You stood outside apartment 407, suddenly aware of your heartbeat.
Then you rang the bell.
A few seconds later, the door opened. And your brain stopped functioning entirely.
Oh.
Oh no.
Jake had failed to mention that his friend looked like that. Tall enough that you had to tilt your head slightly upward. Broad shoulders filling out a black t-shirt that looked soft enough to ruin lives. Dark hair falling messily over his forehead like he’d pushed his fingers through it one too many times.
Sharp eyes.
Really sharp eyes. The kind that lingered.
“You’re Jake’s friend?”
His voice was low and rough around the edges, like he’d just woken up.
You swallowed.
“Y-yeah.”
Smooth. Very smooth.
“I’m here about the room.”
For a second, he simply looked at you. Not in a rude way.
Just… quietly observant. Then he stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The apartment was nicer than you expected.
Warm lighting.
Clean counters.
A gray couch facing a large TV.
Plants near the windows that somehow looked alive, which meant someone here was capable of responsibility. Probably not you.
“Kitchen’s yours whenever,” Heeseung said as you walked further inside. “Bathroom cabinet’s split down the middle. And the room’s this way.”
You followed him down the hallway, hyperaware of how close he was.
The room itself wasn’t huge, but it was perfect, Enough space for your bed and desk.
A decent closet. Big window. Natural light.
Heeseung leaned against the doorframe while you looked around.
“It’s not anything fancy,” he said. “But it’s decent.”
You turned toward him immediately. “I’ll take it.”
One eyebrow lifted slightly. “You don’t want to think about it first?”
“Nope.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
His mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“Alright then.”
You signed the papers that same evening.
Heeseung explained the basics while you filled things out at the kitchen counter.
Rent due at the beginning of the month.
No smoking inside.
Take your shoes off near the entrance because apparently the downstairs neighbor complained about footsteps once and never emotionally recovered from it.
Simple. Easy. Normal.
Before you left, Heeseung glanced at his phone and sighed quietly.
“I won’t be home tomorrow,” he said. “Work thing. So you can move in without me getting in the way.”
“That’s actually perfect.” He nodded once. Then his gaze flicked toward you again briefly, unreadable.
“See you tomorrow.”
—
Moving day felt like breathing properly for the first time in months. You unpacked everything slowly, taking your time decorating your room exactly how you wanted. String lights. Soft blankets. Your favorite books stacked neatly beside the bed.
By evening, your room finally looked like yours.
After a long shower, you changed into oversized sleep clothes and nearly melted into relief when you crawled into bed.
No yelling. No music. No drunk strangers.
You were halfway to your bedroom door after grabbing water from the kitchen when the front door suddenly opened.
You froze.
Heeseung walked inside.
But he wasn’t alone.
A girl was wrapped around him before the door had even fully shut, kissing him like she’d been starving for it. Her hands tangled in his hair while his gripped her waist hard enough to pull a gasp from her mouth.
“Oh my god,” she breathed against his lips. Heeseung laughed softly — low and dangerous.
Your face immediately burned. You should leave.
Instead, your feet stayed rooted to the floor for two horrifying seconds while Heeseung backed her against the wall and kissed her again, slower this time.
His hand disappeared under her shirt. She made a sound that went straight through you.
Then his eyes lifted.
And met yours.
Everything stopped.
For half a second, neither of you moved.
The girl was still clinging to him, too distracted to notice. You felt heat crawl violently up your neck.
“Sorry,” you blurted out.
You practically fled down the hallway and locked yourself in your bedroom like your life depended on it.
What the actual fuck. What the fuck was that?
Maybe he didn’t even see you properly. Maybe—
A muffled moan echoed through the wall. Your eyes widened. Oh, you had to be kidding.
You threw yourself into bed and pulled a pillow over your head.
It did absolutely nothing. Every sound slipped through them effortlessly. The couch creaking rhythmically. Soft gasps. His voice — lower now, rough enough that it curled strangely in your stomach.
“Yeah?” you heard faintly. “That feel good?” You nearly died on the spot.
You shoved your earbuds in so aggressively one almost fell out.
You tried to sleep.
You really did.
But the walls were thin.
Extremely thin that You could hear everything. Her breathy moans.
His deep, husky groans.
The wet sounds.
This could not be your life.
And yet somehow, despite your embarrassment and horror and genuine desire to evaporate into dust—Your heart wouldn’t calm down.
—
The next morning, sunlight spilled across the kitchen while you stood half-awake beside the coffee machine. You were still mentally recovering from the previous night when the hallway door opened.
A gorgeous girl walked out.
Behind her came Heeseung.
Shirtless.
Fresh from the shower.
Your brain short-circuited for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Water still clung to his skin. His dark hair was damp, pushed loosely away from his forehead, and gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips.
You stared at your coffee like it had personally betrayed you.
“Text me later,” the girl said with a grin. Heeseung leaned down and kissed her lazily.
“Drive safe.” Then the door shut behind her.
Silence settled.
And slowly—Heeseung turned toward you.
There it was again. That stupidly attractive half-smile.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” you squeaked..
He walked toward the fridge completely unbothered by the fact that he looked like a problem specifically designed to ruin your peace.
“How was moving in yesterday?” he asked casually while grabbing a water bottle. “Sorry I couldn’t help.”
“It’s okay. I managed.”
“Good.” He twisted the bottle cap open, taking a long drink before glancing at you again.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you last night.”
You nearly inhaled your own tongue.
“I didn’t hear anything.” A pause. Then one corner of his mouth lifted slowly.
Like he knew you were lying.
“Right.” Heat flooded your face instantly.
Heeseung leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossing over his chest. “We should probably set some roommate rules.”
You nodded quickly.
He started listing them casually.
Laundry schedule. Cleaning rotation. No surprise guests for longer than a week.
Then you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“I’d also appreciate,” you said carefully, “if there weren’t drunk people screaming in the apartment at three a.m.”
His expression softened slightly.
“Fair enough.” You relaxed a little.
Then he added casually: “I do bring girls over pretty often, though.” Your spoon stopped moving.
“The walls are thin,” he continued, voice smooth. “So you might wanna invest in better headphones.”
The way he said it felt intentional.
Teasing.
Dangerously close to flirting.
You looked up despite yourself.
Big mistake.
Heeseung was already watching you.
Completely focused. Like he was waiting to see how you’d react.
“I’ll survive,” you said.
His smile deepened slowly.
“We’ll see.” The words followed you like a promise.
—
The apartment was quiet for most of the evening since you returned from work. You tried not to think about him while unpacking the last few boxes scattered around your room. Tried not to think about the way his wet hair had curled slightly at the ends this morning. It irritated you. Mostly because your body seemed determined to betray you every single time he walked into a room.
By midnight, you were buried under your blankets scrolling mindlessly through your phone, half-asleep already.
Then you heard the front door open.
Your stomach dropped instantly.
A girl laughed softly from the hallway. Heeseung said something too low for you to hear, followed by another laugh — quieter this time, more breathless.
Then came the sound of kissing. Your thumb froze against your screen. It was impossible not to hear.
The kind of kissing that sounded like they’d barely made it through the front door before losing patience completely. You squeezed your eyes shut. Ignore it.....Just ignore it.
A soft thud hit the wall outside your room, followed by a muffled gasp. “Fuck,” the girl whispered breathlessly.
Your heartbeat stumbled. You could practically picture it without meaning to — Heeseung pressing her against the hallway wall, one large hand on her waist while she tangled herself around him. His head tilted down. His mouth moving slow and filthy against hers.
“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he murmured. His voice traveled through the thin walls far too clearly. Heat pooled embarrassingly low in your stomach.
You threw your blanket over your head like that would somehow help.
It didn’t.
Their footsteps moved toward the living room. Then the couch creaked loudly. You stared at the ceiling in horror.
No way.
Not again.
A breathy moan slipped through the wall. Another...
Then his voice again, softer now — the kind of tone that made your skin prickle. Your entire body went rigid.
You should put your headphones in.
You should turn on music.
You should literally do anything except lie there listening.
Instead, you stayed perfectly still beneath your blankets, pulse racing harder with every sound that drifted down the hallway. The couch shifted rhythmically. The girl let out another broken moan. Every noise felt vivid enough to crawl beneath your skin.
And the worst part? Your body reacted before your brain could stop it. Heat spread slowly between your thighs. You pressed them together immediately, horrified.
No....
You were not getting turned on by your roommate having sex ten feet away from you.
Another sharp gasp echoed through the wall.
God.
The walls really were thin.
You buried your face into your pillow with a frustrated groan, trying desperately not to imagine his hands, his mouth, the way he probably looked hovering over someone with that same dark stare he always gave you. The sounds only continued..
By the time the apartment finally fell silent, your heart was still pounding hard enough to keep you awake for another hour.
—
The second night was somehow worse. Maybe because now you knew exactly what to expect. Or maybe because Heeseung seemed completely aware of the effect he had on people.
Including you.
Which was deeply unfortunate.
You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard the apartment door unlock around midnight. Steam still clung to your skin as you rubbed your towel through your damp hair. You wore nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties, too tired to bother finding actual sleep shorts yet.
Then laughter drifted into the apartment.
Female.
Oh my god...Again?
You took exactly one step toward your bedroom before the front door swung fully open.
And there he was.
Heeseung walked inside with a girl wrapped around him like she physically couldn’t stand being more than two inches away from him. Long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Sharp eyeliner. Tiny black dress hugging every curve of her body.
Wait - isn't that minjeong?
Heeseung barely managed to kick the door shut before kissing her. The girl gasped softly as he backed her against the wall, one hand gripping her waist while the other slid down her thigh.
“Missed you,” she whispered against his mouth.
Heeseung laughed quietly. “Yeah?” Then he lifted her leg around his hip effortlessly.
You nearly stopped breathing.
You should leave.
Instead, you stared. Mesmerized in the worst possible way. Heeseung’s head dipped toward her neck slowly, lips brushing her skin while she tilted her head back with a soft moan. Then he guided her toward his bedroom, fingers hooked around her thigh possessively as they disappeared behind the door.
Silence lasted exactly three seconds.
Then—“Oh my god—” And then the real torture began.
Minjeong was loud. Shamelessly loud. The headboard hit the shared wall with a loud bang. Your eyes widened. You had to be cursed.
“Heeseung—”The moan echoed shamelessly through the apartment. You grabbed your pillow aggressively and screamed into it. It did nothing. Nothing could save you from this. The wet slap of skin. His low groans breaking occasionally into quiet curses that made your stomach tighten embarrassingly hard.
And his voice—God, his voice.
You physically felt your thighs press together. Your body betrayed you instantly. Heat spread lower and lower until your entire face burned with humiliation.
You hated this. Hated how easy it was to picture him. The broad shoulders. The messy black hair falling into his eyes. The silver necklace resting against tan skin while he hovered over someone else. Your breathing turned uneven. You shifted beneath your blankets restlessly, squeezing your eyes shut.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Ignore—A loud moan cut through the wall.
Without fully meaning to, your hand slipped slowly beneath the blanket. Just for relief. Just enough to stop feeling so painfully aware of your own body. Your fingers brushed between your thighs and you nearly choked. You were soaked.
Heat flooded your face instantly. “Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself.
You imagined those hands touching you instead. Imagined his voice in your ear instead of through the wall. Your fingers moved carefully at first, hesitant and embarrassed, but the sounds coming from his room made it impossible to think properly. The pace of the bed grew faster. Minjeong’s moans turned louder, more broken. Your body followed helplessly. Every sound pushed you closer to the edge.
You bit down hard on your lip to stay quiet, trembling beneath your blankets while pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach. Your orgasm hit hard enough to make your thighs shake. You buried your face into the pillow immediately to muffle the sound that escaped you, chest heaving while frustration and humiliation crashed together inside your ribs.
Because this was insane.
Actually insane.
You had known this man for less than a week. And somehow he was already ruining you without even touching you...
—
The next morning, you woke up determined to avoid him. Which should have been easy. Except fate clearly hated you. You shuffled into the kitchen quietly, hoping to grab coffee before escaping to work unnoticed. Instead, you nearly walked directly into Heeseung.
Your brain stopped functioning instantly. He stood near the stove shirtless, flipping toast lazily in a pair of gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.
The silver Chrome Hearts necklace resting against his chest caught the morning light every time he moved. Your eyes lingered for one fatal second too long. Because his chest was unfair. Broad shoulders. Defined stomach. Tan skin scattered with faint red scratches that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Evidence of last night. Your face immediately heated.
“Morning,” he said casually. Like he hadn’t completely destroyed your sanity through a shared wall six hours ago.
“Morning,” you croaked. He glanced over his shoulder at you while reaching for a mug. And then—His eyes narrowed slightly. A slow smirk appeared.
Oh no.
“You look tired.” You nearly dropped your phone.
“I’m not.”
“Hm.” He sounded unconvinced. Very unconvinced. You moved quickly toward the coffee machine before he could say anything else. Unfortunately, Heeseung seemed to enjoy your suffering. A lot.
“Sleep okay?” he asked lightly.
“Yes.” Lie.
A soft laugh left him. You refused to turn around. The smell of toast drifted through the kitchen while silence stretched between you awkwardly.
Then Heeseung spoke again..
“By the way… you froze last night when I came in with Minjeong. Looked like you saw a ghost.” Your heart skipped.
You hesitated, then muttered, “I… used to know her. We made out once. A few years ago.”
Heeseung choked on his coffee. He set the mug down, staring at you with wide eyes. “You what?”
Your face burned instantly.
“It was years ago,” you muttered quickly. “At a party.” Heeseung was staring at you differently.
Not badly.
Worse. Interested. Something unreadable flickered behind his dark eyes as he set his mug down carefully.
“Wow,” he said softly. Heat crept slowly up your neck.
“You say that like it’s shocking.”
“I mean…” His mouth curved slightly. “Didn’t expect it.” You rolled your eyes immediately.
“What does that even mean?” His eyebrows lifted slowly.
“Wait… so you’re into girls?” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even though your face was burning.
“Let's say I’m bisexual. It was three years ago. Not that deep.”
For a moment, Heeseung just looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then his lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
“Woah… that’s hot. I didn’t know you were like that.” He stepped closer, voice dropping.
“Tell me… what did you two do?” he asked casually.
Your eyes widened.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” he said innocently.
“You’re such a pervert.” He laughed quietly. Deep.
“But now I’m curious.”
“You do realize that’s weird, right?”
“Probably.” He stepped even closer. Close enough that you could smell his body wash again — clean and expensive underneath the faint trace of last night lingering on his skin. The necklace resting against his chest shifted slightly when he leaned against the counter beside you.
“But you look so straight the way you were staring at my abs earlier,” he murmured, thumb brushing your hip.
“Or was that my imagination?” Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating from his body. For a second, neither of you moved. Then you pulled away abruptly.
“I was not.”
“I could never be attracted to someone who changes girls every night,” you mumbled, grabbing your toast and heading for the door.
“You were.” His voice dropped lower.
“Pretty sure your eyes were glued right here.” He tapped lightly just below his ribs.
“That’s literally not true.”
“Hm.” His fingers brushed suddenly against your waist. Barely there. But enough to make your breath catch. The touch felt deliberate. Testing. Your stomach tightened violently. Heeseung noticed immediately. A slow smile spread across his face.
“Interesting.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“This.” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Flirting.” His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“You think I’m flirting with you?” The question made your chest tighten unexpectedly. Because suddenly you weren’t sure. You opened your mouth. Closed it again. And Heeseung smiled like he’d won something.
“You’re cute when you get nervous,” he said softly. Your brain short-circuited. You stepped back so quickly you almost bumped into the counter.
“I could never like someone who changes girls every night,” you blurted out. The words hung awkwardly in the air. For a second, Heeseung just looked at you. Then he laughed. Low and amused. Not offended in the slightest.
“Cute,” he repeated. Your face burned hotter. You grabbed your toast aggressively before escaping the kitchen as fast as your dignity would allow.
The days blurred into a dangerous routine. You threw yourself into work at the advertising agency, designing campaigns late into the evening just to avoid being home when Heeseung returned. But no matter how late you stayed, you always came back to the same apartment. And almost every other night, he brought someone home. a new girl — different hair, different voice, same desperate moans that pierced straight through the thin walls. You started keeping earphones on your nightstand like a weapon, but more often than not, you found yourself abandoning them. Because the ache had become unbearable.
One particularly bad Friday night, after listening to Heeseung fuck a girl so thoroughly that she screamed his name loud enough to wake the neighbors, you couldn’t take it anymore.
You opened a new tab on your phone with trembling fingers and searched for “quiet vibrator.” Thirty minutes later, you were standing outside a 24-hour convenience store near the station, buying the discreet pink bullet vibrator with flushed cheeks and a racing heart.
When you got home, the apartment was finally quiet. Heeseung’s door was closed. You slipped into your room, locked the door, and pulled the small toy out of the packaging.
You felt ridiculous. Pathetic, even. But the frustration had been building for weeks.
You lay back on your bed, pulled your shorts down, and turned the vibrator on the lowest setting. The soft buzz filled the room. The moment it touched your clit, your back arched off the mattress.
“Fuck…” you whispered. You closed your eyes and let the fantasies take over. It was Heeseung’s hands instead of silicone. His long fingers. That necklace dangling above you as he hovered over your body. His low, raspy voice whispering filthy....You turned the speed higher. Your hips rolled against the toy, chasing the pleasure as you remembered every moan you’d heard through the wall — the way he groaned when he was close. Your free hand gripped the sheets as the pressure built fast and overwhelming. When you came, it hit you like a wave — thighs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, back bowing off the bed.
For a few blissful seconds, the frustration finally eased. But the relief never lasted long.
The next morning, you woke up late.You rushed into the kitchen, still half-asleep, hoping to grab something quick and leave.
Heeseung was already there, as usual.
Shirtless. His hair was damp, and there were fresh scratch marks on his shoulder.
“Morning,” he said casually, pouring himself coffee. His eyes flicked over you slowly. “You look… flushed. Rough night?”
Your heart skipped. “I’m fine.”
He stepped closer, setting his mug down. The scent of his body wash wrapped around you. He reached past you to grab a banana from the counter, deliberately brushing his bare arm against yours.
“You sure?” His voice dropped. “Because I could’ve sworn I heard something interesting last night.”
Your stomach dropped. Heeseung smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. He didn’t push further, but the knowing look in his eyes stayed with you all day.
From that night on, something shifted. Heeseung started getting louder. Deliberately louder.
One night, you heard him tell the girl he brought home, “Don’t hold back, baby. Let the whole apartment hear how good I’m fucking you.” The headboard slammed harder.
Heeseung’s groans were deeper, rougher, like he wanted you to hear every single sound. You hated how much it affected you. You used the vibrator almost every night now. Each time, the fantasies grew more vivid.
One evening, you came home exhausted from a long day at the agency. Heeseung wasn’t there yet. You took a long shower, then decided to relieve some stress before he came back with another girl. You were lying on your bed, completely naked, legs spread, vibrator pressed firmly against your clit on the highest setting. Your hips bucked desperately as you chased release.
“Heeseung…” you whimpered quietly, lost in the fantasy. “Fuck— please…” The pleasure built fast and intense. Your free hand pinched your nipple, back arching as the vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your clit. You were so close — right on the edge —The front door opened.
You froze for a moment. But it was too late to stop. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a broken moan escaping despite your best efforts. You bit your pillow, body shaking violently as waves of pleasure rolled through you.
You didn’t hear Heeseung’s footsteps pause in the hallway. Or the way he stood there for a long moment, listening.
One morning you were searching for the vibrator that you lost because you were so comfortable playing with it in the couch last night since you were alone and when you heard the door open you fled to your room forgetting it. So you walked into the kitchen praying he’d already left.
No such luck. Heeseung was leaning against the counter as usual.
He was holding your pink vibrator. Twirling it between his long fingers with a dark, amused smirk.
Your soul left your body. when did he get that?
“Looking for this?” he asked casually, voice low and teasing. He held it up, eyes locked on yours. “Found it on the couch while I was looking for my charger. Interesting choice, princess.”
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Heeseung stepped closer, backing you against the kitchen counter. The necklace swayed between you as he leaned in, breath warm against your ear.
“Been using this while listening to me fuck other girls?” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Moaning my name like that last night… you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be, are you?” Your face burned with humiliation and arousal. You couldn’t speak. Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with something dangerous and hungry. The vibrator still dangled from his fingers like a taunt.
“So…” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
“How long are we going to keep pretending?”
You stepped away from him and took the item from his hand and walked away without answering his questions. You can hear his chuckle behind you. You were so embarrassed.
The next few days passed in a haze of unbearable tension. Until one Thursday evening, everything changed. You came home from work earlier than usual, exhausted from a long client meeting. The moment you stepped inside, you froze. Heeseung was already home. He was sprawled on the couch in black sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt, his necklace visible against his collarbones. His hair was messy, cheeks slightly flushed, and he looked… unwell.
“You’re home early,” you said, surprised. Heeseung glanced at you, voice raspy. “Caught a cold. Boss sent me home.” He coughed lightly, looking miserable but still unfairly attractive. You didn’t say anything. You simply went to the kitchen, rolled up your sleeves, and started cooking. Thirty minutes later, you placed a steaming bowl of warm chicken soup in front of him. Heeseung stared at it for a long moment, then looked up at you with genuine surprise.
“You made this… for me?” You shrugged, suddenly shy. “You look like shit. Eat.” He smiled — soft, almost boyish — and ate slowly while you sat across from him. For the first time, you two had a real conversation. He told you about his work at the studio, how stressful deadlines were. You told him about your annoying clients at the agency. The atmosphere felt strangely… domestic.
When he finished, he leaned back and murmured, “Thank you. That was really good.” You nodded, about to stand up when his next words stopped you cold.
“So…” Heeseung smirked, eyes darkening. “Why did you need a vibrator?” Your face exploded with heat.
“I— I don’t use it. It was just… there.” Heeseung laughed, low and amused. He stood up slowly and walked around the table until he was right in front of you.
“If you’re that horny or stressed,” he said, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “you can use me instead.”
The air thickened instantly. Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Heeseung…”
“Trust me,” he murmured, stepping closer until your back hit the counter. “I’m very good at relieving stress.”
Before you could respond, his hands were on you. One slid around your waist, gripping firmly. The other dipped into the waistband of your low-rise pants, long fingers slipping beneath your panties. You gasped as he found you already wet.
“Fuck… so soaked already,” he breathed against your ear, the Chrome Hearts necklace brushing your chest. “All this time listening to me… and you never said anything?” Two fingers circled your clit slowly, teasingly, before sliding down to your entrance. He pushed one finger inside you, then another, curling them perfectly against that spot that made your knees weak. You moaned softly, gripping his shoulders. Heeseung worked his fingers expertly — slow and deep at first, then faster, thumb pressing against your clit with every thrust. His mouth hovered near your neck, breath hot as he whispered filthy praises.
“You’re so tight around my fingers, princess.” Your hips rocked against his hand desperately. The pleasure built fast and overwhelming. When you finally came, clenching hard around his fingers, Heeseung watched your face the entire time, eyes dark with lust. He pulled his hand out slowly, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth and licking them clean.
“Goodnight,” he whispered with a smirk, then turned and walked into his room, leaving you trembling and empty against the counter.
You couldn’t sleep. An hour later, frustration and need burned through your body.You pulled out the vibrator again. You lay on your back, legs spread, and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you pressed it hard against your swollen clit. Your hips bucked immediately.
“Ah— fuck…” You started slow as usual, then faster, moaning freely as pleasure coursed through you. You were so lost in it that you didn’t hear the door open.
Heeseung stood in the doorway, eyes pitch black with hunger. “Don’t stop,” he said hoarsely. “Please… keep going. I just want to watch.”
You froze. He walked closer, watching every movement.
“Or…” he murmured, climbing onto the bed, “should I help you?” He took the vibrator from your hand, locked eyes with you, and pressed it back against your core. He turned it on high. The sudden intensity made you cry out. Heeseung leaned down and kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans while working the toy against you with perfect pressure. His tongue explored your mouth as he whispered between kisses:“I couldn’t sleep because of the sounds you were making… I was so fucking curious.” You were shaking, so close again.
“I’m— I’m close—” Right as you were about to tip over the edge, he pulled the vibrator away.
You glared at him, frustrated and desperate. “Heeseung—”
He smirked, pushing his sweatpants down. His cock sprang free — thick, hard, and leaking at the tip.
“Not yet, princess.”
He teased your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit, coating himself in your wetness. You were practically begging. “Please…”
Heeseung finally pushed in. The stretch was intense. He sank into you slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, groaning deeply as your walls clenched around him.
“Fuck… so tight,” he hissed. Then he started moving. He fucked you hard and deep, hips snapping against yours with rhythm. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. Heeseung’s necklace swung above you with every thrust as he gripped your thighs, spreading you wider.
“Look at me,” he growled, pounding into you relentlessly. You moaned his name like a prayer, nails digging into his back. Heeseung kissed you messily, biting your lip as he drove deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over. When you finally came around him, clenching hard, Heeseung followed right after with a broken groan, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you.
The next morning felt like a slap to the face. Heeseung acted like nothing had happened. He moved around the kitchen with the same effortless confidence as always — When you walked in, he glanced at you with a casual smile, like he hadn’t spent the previous night buried deep inside you.
“Morning,” he said lightly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Want some?” You stood there frozen, heart squeezing painfully. What did you expect? He was a fuckboy. This was what fuckboys did. They fucked you senseless, made you feel wanted for a few hours, then acted like it was just another Tuesday. The realization hurt more than you wanted to admit.
You forced a small nod. “Yeah… thanks.” Heeseung handed you the mug without another word. No teasing. No lingering touches. No acknowledgment of the way you’d moaned his name just hours ago. You drank your coffee in silence, feeling cheap and stupid. Of course he doesn’t care. You’re just another girl who lives next door. The thought stung.
To your shock that evening, Heeseung brought another girl home. You heard the front door open, followed by giggles and sloppy kissing.
This time, it wasn’t just arousal you felt — it was pure anger. Jealousy burned hot in your chest as you lay in bed listening to him fuck her. Every moan, every creak of the bed, every “Fuck, Heeseung, you’re so good” felt like a personal insult. You hated how much it affected you. You hated yourself for caring.
So the next night, you decided you were done being pathetic. You went clubbing. You didn’t drink much — just two cocktails to take the edge off. You danced, flirted, and eventually left with a guy named Jihoon. He was tall, charming enough, and seemed genuinely interested.
You brought him back to the apartment.
When you walked through the door, Heeseung was already there, sitting on the couch in the dark, scrolling through his phone. His eyes snapped up when he saw you with another man. Shock, then something darker, flashed across his face.
You didn’t care.
You pulled Jihoon straight into your room and closed the door with a loud click. You made sure to be loud. You moaned exaggeratedly as Jihoon touched you, even though his hands were clumsy and he finished embarrassingly fast.
He didn’t make you cum. Not even close.
But you kept moaning anyway — loud, breathy, dramatic — making sure every single sound traveled through the thin walls.
Heeseung lost it.
A few minutes after Jihoon collapsed beside you, loud knocking echoed through your door. You quickly threw on a robe and opened it. Heeseung stood there, jaw clenched, eyes burning with barely contained fury.
“What the fuck are you trying to do?” he hissed, voice low.
You lifted your chin defiantly. “I’m just having a good time. Is that a problem?”
His eyes darkened. “You’re being too fucking noisy. And we both know that guy isn’t making you moan like that.”
You laughed bitterly. “How would you know?”
Heeseung stepped forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out into the hallway. He shut your door behind you, trapping you against the wall.
“Did he make you cum?” he asked, voice deadly quiet, eyes locked on yours.
You stayed silent.
He smirked, dangerous and knowing. “Exactly. See? I can make you cum with just my fingers.” Before you could respond, he kissed you — hard, possessive. His hands gripped your waist as he whispered against your lips, “Let that idiot sleep. Come enjoy yourself with me.”
He dragged you into his room. And started undressing...
Heeseung pushed his pants down, revealing his hard, throbbing cock, then lay back on the bed.
“Come here, princess. Ride me.”
You wanted to say no but you couldn't resist so you straddled him, grinding your soaked pussy along his length. The raw, hot contact made both of you hiss. Heeseung’s head fell back, eyes squeezed shut.
“Fuck… don’t tease me like that,” he groaned.
You sank down slowly. He was so thick it burned in the best way. The moment you took all of him, you clenched hard around his cock. Heeseung whimpered — a broken, beautiful sound — his hands gripping your waist tightly. You started riding him desperately, tits bouncing with every movement. Heeseung stared like he was hypnotized, one hand holding your waist while the other squeezed your breast, thumb brushing your nipple. When your pace faltered from exhaustion, he thrust up hard, fucking you deep while you were pressed chest to chest.
“You kept moaning so loud because you wanted me to hear it, right?” he growled, hips snapping up relentlessly. “You wanted me to know how badly you needed my cock.”
You came hard around him, as pleasure ripped through you. Heeseung didn’t stop. He flipped you onto your stomach, pulled your ass up, and slammed back into you from behind.
His stamina was insane.
He fucked you like he was punishing you — deep, powerful thrusts that made your eyes roll back. You came again, burying your face in the pillow to muffle your screams as he gripped your ass and pounded into you. Only then did he finally let go, burying himself to the hilt as he came with a deep groan.
After you both caught your breath, Heeseung pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder.
“I hope we didn’t disturb your guest,” he said, smirking. You let out a tired laugh despite yourself.
Then his voice turned serious.
“I was waiting for you,” he admitted quietly. “I wanted to apologize for acting like nothing happened after we… you know. But when I saw you come home with that guy… I lost it.” He brushed your hair back, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I don’t want anyone else hearing you moan.”
You looked up at him, heart racing, unsure what this meant for the two of you. But for tonight, you let yourself stay in his arms.
｡･ω･｡♡｡･ω･｡
The morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains. You woke up tangled in Heeseung’s sheets, his arm slung over your waist and his necklace cool against your bare back. He was still asleep, breathing steady, looking far too peaceful for someone who had ruined you multiple times last night.
A loud knock on the front door made you jolt.
Then another. Then a very confused voice:
“...Hello? Is anyone there?”
Your stomach dropped.
Jihoon.
The guy you had completely forgotten about in your room.
Heeseung stirred beside you, cracking one eye open. A lazy, mischievous smirk spread across his face the second he registered what was happening.
“Oh no,” he whispered, voice raspy with sleep and amusement. “You left your little toy in the other room.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, face burning as you scrambled for clothes. You threw on one of Heeseung’s shirts and rushed out, trying to fix your messy hair on the way.
When you opened the door to your bedroom, Jihoon was standing there awkwardly, fully dressed, looking equal parts confused and concerned.
“Hey… um,” he scratched the back of his neck.
“I woke up and you were gone. I thought maybe you got kidnapped or something.”
Behind you, Heeseung appeared in the hallway. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, looking entirely too satisfied.
Jihoon’s eyes flicked between you two. The pieces clicked slowly in his head.
“Oh,” he said, voice flat. “...Okay.”
You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
“I’m really sorry,” you said quickly. “Last night was… a lot. I didn’t mean to ditch you like that.”
Jihoon let out a weak laugh, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, no worries. I, uh… heard a lot. Through the wall but I thought it was just in my head. Turns out you guys are… very enthusiastic.”
Heeseung coughed to hide a laugh.
Jihoon gave you one last awkward nod. “I’ll just… see myself out. Nice meeting you. Both of you, I guess.”
The second the front door closed behind him, Heeseung burst out laughing, pulling you back against his chest.
“Poor guy,” he chuckled. “He came here thinking he was getting laid and ended up listening to me fuck his date all night.”
You groaned, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m never bringing anyone home again.”
“Good,” Heeseung murmured, voice dropping as his hands slid under your shirt. “Because the only person moaning in this apartment from now on is you. And I want to hear every single sound.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.
Jason todd had three rules when you started living with him.
One: don’t touch the bookshelf in his room unless you wanted a lecture about which books needed to be left alone for them to stay in perfect condition.
Two: if he was in the kitchen cooking, stay out because the crowding will get him overstimulated.
Three: he almost always gets to pick the movies on movie night.
You followed all the basic three rules faithfully. Mostly because you had known Jason since you were twelve and learned early on that arguing with him was like arguing with a brick wall.
Living together happened accidentally.
Well, accidentally in the sense that your apartment building flooded, and Jason had a spare room, in which Bruce had apparently been waiting years for someone to force Jason into actually talking to someone everyday.
“Just until your lease gets sorted out,” Jason had said six months ago while carrying your boxes upstairs like they weighed nothing.
Now your toothbrush sat beside his in the bathroom. Your cereal occupying half the pantry, your socks somehow ending up mixed with his laundry almost every single week.
Temporary had started feeling oddly permanent.
Not that either of you acknowledged it anyway.
“Your coffee sucks” Jason informed you one morning, leaning against the kitchen counter with damp hair and a faded Gotham Knights t-shirt.
You took a sip from your mug. “You say that every day and then drink more than half of it.”
“That’s because your expensive coffee machine confuses me.”
“You literally know how to disarm bombs.”
“Different skill set.”
You chuckled.
Jason watched you over the rim of his mug for half a second too long before looking away.
That happened a lot lately.
Not that you thought much about it.
Probably.
Your movie nights were.. dangerous to say the least.
Not because of the movies themselves, but because Jason had developed a habit of sprawling across the couch like a giant cat and pulling you against him without thinking.
The first time it happened, you froze.
Jason had froze too.
Then he’d muttered, “You’re cold,” like that explained everything, and neither of you brought it up again.
So it just… continued to happen
Tonight was no exception.
You were halfway through some terrible horror movie when Jason grabbed your wrist during a jumpscare.
“You know they’re all gonna die, right?” he said.
“You’re ruining the experience.” you scoffed.
“The experience is watching idiots make bad decisions.”
You tried to pull your hand back.
Jason didn’t let go.
Neither of you acknowledged that either.
By the time the credits rolled, your legs were draped over his lap and his thumb was lazily brushing over your knuckles.
Normal roommate behavior of course.
“You falling asleep?” he asked quietly.
“No.”
“You blinked slow.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Really.”
You tilted your head back against the couch. “You’re annoying.”
Jason grinned, small and crooked. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”
The stupid thing was?
You sort of did.
Dick noticed it first.
Well, Dick noticed almost everything first, which was deeply irritating.
He showed up one afternoon uninvited, raiding your fridge and then stared at you and Jason across the kitchen for a long moment.
“Huh.”
Jason looked up from chopping vegetables. “What.”
“You two are stupid.”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
Dick pointed between you dramatically. “This whole thing.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “You hit your head on anything recently?"
“You’re in love with each other.”
Silence.
Then,
“No we’re not,” you and Jason said at the exact same time.
Dick looked unbearably smug. “That was adorable.”
“Get out,” Jason deadpanned.
Dick left laughing.
You avoided looking at Jason for the rest of the evening.
Not because Dick’s words got stuck in your head.
Definitely not. Right?
A thing about Jason was that he remembered everything.
Your favorite takeout order.
How you hated thunderstorms but pretended not to.
So when the power went out during one particularly awful storm and Jason silently appeared in your doorway holding blankets and a flashlight, your chest hurt a little.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” you mumbled.
“I know.”
Thunder rattled the windows.
Jason sighed dramatically before climbing into bed beside you. “Move over.”
You laughed despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet here I am, being heroic.”
“You fight crime. This is the least heroic thing you've ever done."
“And this,” he said, pulling the blanket over both of you, “is harder.”
You rolled your eyes, but your shoulder stayed pressed against his all night.
It happened because of keys.
Stupid, ordinary house keys.
You were running late for work, shoving things into your bag while Jason leaned against the front door watching you with amusement.
“You’re gonna forget something,” he warned.
“I’m not—”
You stopped.
“Where are my keys?”
Jason held them up silently.
“Oh my god, thank you.”
You reached for them, but he didn’t let go immediately.
Your fingers brushed.
Jason stared at you.
Not casually.
Not absentmindedly.
Just… stared.
And suddenly, with the morning light spilling through the apartment and his hair messy from sleep and your shared home warm around you, something shifted.
“You know,” he said slowly, “you should probably just keep the spare.”
You frowned. “I already have the spare.”
“No, I mean—”
Jason stopped.
For maybe the first time in his life, Jason Todd looked nervous.
“The permanent one,” he finished quietly.
Your heart skipped.
“The permanent one?”
“Yeah.”
His voice was rough now, uncertain in a way you’d almost never heard.
“You live here anyway. You belong here.” He swallowed hard. “With me.”
Oh.
Oh.
“How long have you been trying to say that?” you asked softly.
Jason groaned immediately, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t do this to me.”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
“Youre such an idiot.”
“Yeah, well, I’m usually surrounded by them.”
You stepped closer.
Jason’s eyes flicked down to your mouth.
“Dick was right, wasn’t he?” you asked.
“Dick is stupid."
“Are you?"
Jason looked at you for one long second before exhaling a quiet, helpless laugh.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Kind of impossible not to be.”
Something warm bloomed in your chest so suddenly it almost hurt.
“You know,” you said, “for a guy who reads as much as you do and is supposed to be smart? you took forever figuring this out.”
Jason huffed. “I figured it out months ago.”
“adn you just didn’t say anything?”
“You called me your best friend and then fell asleep on my shoulder. What was I supposed to do with that?”
“Kiss me, probably.”
Jason blinked.
Then he kissed you.
Like he’d been wanting to for a long, long time.
Warm hands cupping your face. Soft at first, careful despite all the rough edges that made up Jason Todd. The kind of kiss that felt familiar before it even ended.
When he pulled back, you were both smiling.
“You’re still making coffee tomorrow morning regardless of my feelings for you,” he murmured.
“You literally confessed your love less than five seconds ago and thats what you're taljing about?"
“So?"
You laughed against his mouth when he kissed you again.
Outside, Gotham kept moving.
Inside your apartment, your home, Jason slipped the matching house key into your palm like it had always belonged there.
So Damian is in college, and he’s continued being a vigilante, but people are starting to get a bit suspicious when he leaves during a rouge attack. He needs someone to be his alibi, and it has to be someone he can realistically be around alone for long periods of time.
Enter Danielle Jane Masters. She’s an archaeology major, and is currently looking for a place to live that’s not a dorm. Quiet enough to to slip by, but is also a presence that’s impossible to fully ignore. She’s also pretty and smart enough for their ‘relationship’ to not be a total shock
Damian offers his apartment in exchange for her to be his fake girlfriend.
~
Dani’s attending GU, and after her roommate infested her dorm with mutated cockroaches, she decides that she’s done with the dorm hall.
She can’t exactly find a place to stay with roommates willing to overlook her halfa oddities (doesn’t eat much/at all, eyes glow, etc) and she can’t afford rent on her own (and she would not be asking Vlad for money). Jazz and Danny have enough on their plate, with Danny taking his rightful throne and Jazz getting a PhD in Star City.
Dani also is keeping a low profile, partly due to the GIW and partly due to the bats, who might run her out of town before she finishes her degree.
So having a fake boyfriend to keep her cover as a normal college student is perfect. All she has to do is be a good fake girlfriend until she graduates and she can leave town.
Why Damian needs a fake girlfriend is none of her business, but she suspects hes involved in crime.
They mostly ignore each other, but over time they develop a small friendship and a ‘friends with benefits’ type of thing even though they’re already ‘dating’.
Shenanigans in no particular order:
- Damian notices Dani doesn’t eat much, and gets pretty concerned, especially after he realizes she also doesn’t sleep (halfa stuff)
- Dani gets the flu, and Damian goes full doctor mode. Turns out Dani not only hates being cared for, she’s also clingy when she’s sick
- Dani doesn’t come back one night, so Damian goes out to look for her and finds her as a sacrifice for a cult meant to bring ‘peace and harmony’ to the world. They take her blood and before they add it to the circle, all the power cuts out. Damian heads back to the apartment to find Dani waiting for him, saying she was ‘so worried’ (She was. She sensed he was near during the ritual and caused a city-wide blackout and slipped out invisibly and intangibly)
-the Waynes are entirely convinced that Dani and Damian are actually dating, and Damian goes: ‘these fucking idiots. I wonder how long we can fool them.’ Surprisingly, Danis up for the challenge, and Damian invites her to a gala, where they pretend to be the most in love couple then can be without making it obvious they’re faking. Has Dani always stared at him like this?
-Jon visits, and even he’s convinced. That’s when Damian realizes that he actually wants to date Dani
-Something happens to Dani’s room/bed (maybe it’s flooded, the frame snaps, etc) and suddenly it’s just one bed
-that same night, one of Damian’s sibling slip through Damian’s window bc they’re injured and just see Damian and Dani and it’s just really awkward, especially if one of them wakes up.
-if it’s Dani that wakes up, she just sees a shadow at the foot of the bed, realizes Damian’s sleeping right next to her, and she grabs the nearest lamp and throws it. The person crumples to the ground and Dani finally turns on the light to see a vigilante on the ground unconscious.
- if it’s Damian, he’s just really embarrassed while the vigilante thinks it’s cute. Damian ends up trying to get his sibling to leave while also trying to not wake up Dani, who eventually smothers him with a pillow trying to get him to shut up.
-it turns out they sleep way better when the others there, so they make excuses to stay
-Danny stops by for an hour and is promptly not fooled by their charade and accuses Damian of holding her hostage. Barbara or Tim decide to hack into his apartment’s security camera and catches the part of the conversation where Danny threatens Damian
-one of them gets partnered with a member of the opposite gender, and the other is wildly jealous about it
-one of them gets a stalker and they spot the stalker in public, and in order to ward them off, they start making out with the other. The stalker posts the photos on the internet
-a talk show wants to have an interview with them, and they play a game (“what’s their favorite color? “What’s their biggest pet peeve” etc). They answer every question correctly.
-they have a public pretend fight that gets a little too real
-Jason or Steph finds out and they help Damian plan an apology date
-someone insults Damian too Dani’s face and Dani snaps. There’s yelling, video recordings, and a whole bunch of shit and Dani doesn’t even realize Damian’s standing right behind her, approaching her to ask her out on that apology date.
-Dani gets invited out by some of her friends and they ditch her and Dani’s drunk, has no ride, and is feeling extremely uncomfortable, so she calls Damian, who drops whatever he’s doing to come get her
-Damian gets home late after a rough patrol and Dani fell asleep at the counter waiting for him because she was worried
-fake proposal. Even better if it’s not planned at all, and they’re just like “do you to marry me?” “Ok sure.” “👍”
Any more ideas? Not sure how it’ll end, so i want to see your suggestions
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roommate Simon Riley is one of my favorite things ever…
fem reader x Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
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Somehow you ended up in a situation where you shared a flat with your lieutenant, Simon Riley. The stoic and hardened Ghost, someone you never imagined yourself getting close to. When he asked if he could stay with you for a while he mentioned something about remodels being done because there was a leak in one of his pipes, which then eventually led to all sorts of problems. You didn't mind one bit, so what better place for him to crash for a few days?
He didn't dare ask Johnny because his ego was too big for that, rooming with Price would just be odd because of his husband and Gaz was out of the picture because he lived off base. You were his only other option even though you weren’t that close at the time. You had room and it's not like you were home much anyway.
He set up a small living space in your spare room. It was tiny but it would do. He was a man who didn't need much more than a cup of tea, a place to put his boots and a few books. Sometimes you even forgot he was there because he wasn’t on the same schedule as you, he cleaned up after himself and was a naturally quiet person. But when you did cross paths, it was surprisingly comfortable.
It first happened a few days into him staying there, you’d gotten home to the smell of something cooking. Something real. Something that wasn’t insistent ramen or microwaved mac n’ cheese. It was odd to come home to someone else in your home but for some reason you didn't mind. You dropped your bag at the door, kicking off your combat boots and padding down the hall to the kitchen. When you rounded the corner you saw him standing at the counter, plating the meal he just made. He was in normal clothes, no combat gear or ghost mask. He was in joggers and a T-shirt with the bold, white letters spelling out RILEY on the back and a simple black balaclava. A contrast to what you know him as.
“Hope ya don' t mind me cookin’ somethin’, I assumed you wouldn’t get mad if I did.” When he spoke it drew your attention, making you remember you existed. You blinked over as he continued “Stopped by the shops on the way back, thought i’d be nice to have a good meal”
“I don’t mind at all" you pause, stepping closer "what's mine is yours” you say with a soft smile, watching him with a sparkle in your eyes. It looked really fucking good. Who knew Ghost could cook? He glanced over and his features softened ever so slightly, taking you in.
“Let's eat then, yeah?”
So you did. You sat a comfortable distance away from him on the couch, crisscross and you ate the best meal you’d had in months. Maybe this won't be as bad as you thought it would be.
