#I want to write the reveal but I don't want to do it right away

[itsnesss]

I have an idea in mind, maybe the reader is a cheerleader girlfriend of Axel, and she always supports him in tournaments, now the angst part because I can't live without that , Wolf hates her, because he thinks she's a distraction for his star student, and forces Axel to break up with her, but he's like undecided, did you see another Cinderella story, with Hilary Duff? The scene where she tells her love interest about the drought, I feel like it would be interesting for her to tell him that she needs someone to fight for her, for them, and leave.

𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | you cheer for axel during his tournament win, but when sensei wolf pulls him away, axel reveals his coach wants him to focus on karate, not you

warnings | angst, emotional distress, heartbreak, unresolved relationship issues, feeling of abandonment

word count | 1.8 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The place was packed. The crowd’s cheers echoed off the walls, blending with the sound of punches landing on the tatami. Axel was fighting in the tournament final, and although there were dozens of eyes on him, you knew the only ones that truly mattered were yours.

From the stands, with your cheerleading uniform and pom-poms in hand, you never took your eyes off him. You knew every one of his moves, every one of his strategies. You knew when he was in control and when he was struggling to stay on his feet. And right now, even though he was moving with agility, you could tell he was exhausted.

You were so focused on watching every one of his movements that the noise of the crowd seemed to fade away, like the world had stopped just for you. Axel was facing the toughest fighter he’d had throughout the tournament, but you knew he wasn’t going to give up. His determination was his greatest strength. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing grew heavier, but still, he kept fighting, giving it his all.

It was an impressive display, but all you could think about at that moment was how much you wanted to see him win. You knew how much this tournament meant to him, how much he’d trained and sacrificed to get here. It was his dream, and you wanted him to achieve it more than anything.

At one point, his gaze met yours. It was only for a second, but it was enough. Axel had this ability to find your eyes in the middle of chaos, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist for him when he saw you. And it made you smile, like the energy between the two of you transferred through that glance.

His body moved automatically, dodging a punch and countering with a perfect kick. The sound of the strike echoed in the air, and the referee raised his hand, signaling the victory. The crowd erupted into cheers, but you could barely hear it, so absorbed in the way Axel had sought you with his gaze. He had won, but it was you he wanted to see.

You jumped from the stands, pushing through the crowd as you rushed toward the resting area. You didn’t care who pushed you or the chaos around you. All you had in mind was reaching him, reaching Axel.

You found him taking out his mouthguard, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Without thinking, you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly, like your entire happiness depended on that moment.

“You did it!” you shouted, your voice full of emotion.

Axel caught you instantly, letting out a laugh between gasps. “You always do this,” he said, his voice broken by his breathing. He didn’t stop hugging you, no matter how exhausted he was, like that gesture was what he needed the most in that moment. “You rush toward me as if you were the one fighting.”

“Well, someone had to do the hard work of cheering you on from the stands,” you replied, laughing under your breath. You couldn’t help it. You were so happy for him, for his victory, that you weren’t thinking about anything else. Only about the now, about the warmth of his arms around you.

Axel smiled, resting his forehead against yours. For a moment, the world disappeared. There were no cheers, no crowds, just the two of you in your little corner of the gym, celebrating something only the two of you shared. “Thanks for being here,” he whispered, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Always,” you said, closing your eyes, breathing the same air as him. You felt his energy through the embrace, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect. You didn’t need anything else.

But, as always, the perfect moment was broken when someone cleared their throat behind you. The dry, deep sound echoed like a slap in your ears, and both of you immediately separated. A chill ran down your spine.

“Axel.”

It was Sensei Wolf’s voice, harsh and authoritative. Like a whip, his tone sliced the air, making your whole body tense involuntarily. Axel noticed it too, and before he could say anything, his sensei was already gesturing for him to follow. Axel’s face hardened, but he didn’t protest. He couldn’t.

“I need to talk to you,” Wolf said, no trace of emotion in his voice.

Axel looked at you, and in his eyes, you could see the same doubt you were feeling. He wanted to stay, he wanted to keep enjoying the moment, but Wolf’s gaze made him hesitate. His eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought he might say something, that he might tell you he’d stay with you. But he didn’t.

“Go,” you said softly, taking a deep breath, even though it hurt more than you expected. “I’ll see you later.”

Axel nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. Something in the way Wolf was watching him made you uneasy, and even though you tried to hide it, a sense of dread began to grow inside you.

And you weren’t wrong.

Hours later.

The parking lot of the gym was nearly empty. Most of the cars had already left, and the night was starting to fall, wrapping the place in a heavy silence that was only interrupted by the echo of your own footsteps. You’d been waiting there for a while, sitting on the sidewalk next to your car, looking at the horizon. You were calm, but there was something inside you that knew something wasn’t right.

It didn’t take long before you heard Axel’s footsteps approaching. You didn’t look, but you knew it was him. His presence was unmistakable, and the rhythm of his walk was the same he always had after a fight: heavy but firm. When he finally reached you, you looked at him, and you didn’t need to ask. His face said it all.

“We need to talk.”

His words were simple, direct. But the tone in his voice, so grave and serious, put you on high alert. Those two words, so common and simple, never meant anything good when said that way. You didn’t want to hear what he was about to say, but you knew you couldn’t escape it.

“About what?” you asked, even though deep down, you knew exactly what it was about.

Axel ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it even more than it already was. He didn’t look you in the eye, like he was searching for the right words but couldn’t find them. You knew it was hard for him, that he didn’t want to say what he was about to say. And that made you worry even more.

“Sensei Wolf thinks… thinks being with you is affecting me,” he started, and his voice sounded heavy with frustration. “He says I’m not focused, that if I want to win the tournament, I have to focus completely on karate.”

It was what you expected, but still, the words hit you like a dagger. You were prepared to hear it, but you weren’t prepared for the pain that came with it. Axel had been clear about his priorities, and his sensei had made it clear that his future in karate depended on his concentration.

“Let me guess,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, almost devoid of emotion. You crossed your arms, feeling the night’s cold seep into your bones. “He wants us to break up.”

Axel didn’t respond immediately, and that silence was like a sentence. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation, but the silence said it all. Everything you’d feared was happening right in front of you.

“And what do you think?” you asked softly, not really wanting to know the answer. But you needed to hear it. You needed to know if he truly thought karate was more important than what you had.

He lifted his gaze, and for a moment, you saw something in his eyes you’d never seen before: doubt. Axel, the guy who’d always been so sure of himself, the guy who never hesitated a second when it came to fighting, was now doubting. Doubting you. Doubting what you had. And that broke you more than anything else.

“I don’t want to do this” he finally said, his voice strained, as if those words cost him more than anyone could imagine. “But this is my life. It’s what I’ve trained for my whole life.”

“And what about me?” you whispered, feeling your throat close up. The words were bitter, as if you’d swallowed broken glass. “Am I not part of your life?”

Axel clenched his fists, as if trying not to lose control. His eyes filled with frustration. “Of course you are.”

“Then why is this even a conversation?” you shot back, feeling all the anger you’d repressed start to spill out.

Axel opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had no answers. And that’s what hurt the most. That he didn’t have the answers for you. That he couldn’t tell you that you were worth it, that he would fight for you.

“I’ve always been at your tournaments,” you continued, your voice breaking, fighting the lump in your throat. “I’ve been there in every victory, every loss. I’ve supported you even when we barely saw each other because you were training. I never complained, never asked you to choose between karate and me.”

Axel lowered his head, unable to look at you. And that said everything. No more words were needed.

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered, like he was justifying his decisions.

“Yes, it is,” you affirmed bitterly. “You just have to decide if it’s worth fighting for us.”

The silence between the two of you grew even heavier. Every second felt longer than the last. Your heart pounded so loudly you could hear it in your ears.

“Tell me you want this, Axel,” you whispered, your voice broken with pain. “Tell me you really want to leave me.”

Axel lifted his head, his lips parted. But nothing came out. And that was your answer.

Your throat closed up, and something inside you shattered into pieces. But you weren’t going to let him see it.

“You know what the worst part is?” you murmured, your voice empty of emotion, forcing out a humorless laugh. “I’ve always fought for you.”

You stepped closer to him, feeling like you were drowning in pain, but you didn’t stop. It couldn’t be that easy. “But now I realize I need someone who will fight for me too.”

Axel squinted, his jaw tight, like he was about to explode. “Don’t say that…”

“It’s the truth.”

He took a step toward you, but you stepped away. Your heart raced, but you knew you couldn’t stay there, waiting for something that would never come.

“When you’re ready to do it, you know where to find me.”

You turned and started walking. You waited. You waited for him to run after you. You waited for him to say "I don’t care what Wolf says, I choose to be with you".

But Axel didn’t move. And when you left the parking lot, you knew this time, he wasn’t going to fight.

Not for you.

Not for us.

[pinkmoontaco]

can you do one about idol jeonghan x idol reader that gets into a dating scandal but ends up actually dating? pretty pleaseee i love u work btw

Caught in the Spotlight || Yoon Jeonghan

Pairing: Idol Jeonghan x Idol reader Summary: When a dating scandal erupts, Y/N’s career is put at risk, forcing her to face public backlash and betrayal. Amid the chaos, Jeonghan stands by her side, determined to protect her no matter the cost. As they navigate fame, heartbreak, and tough choices, they discover that love — even in the harshest spotlight — can shine the brightest. Genre: Drama, Romance, Fluff

Authors note: Hey everyone, 😊!! I'm back with a story that was requested by one of you! First off, I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love and support you’ve shown. Your sweet comments, reblogs, and kind words truly inspire me to keep writing, so please keep them coming and please don't forget to follow for more stories like this!! Love you guys ❤️ And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other group M.list

The night air was crisp, the streets dimly lit by flickering streetlights as Jeonghan stepped out of the upscale restaurant. His fingers tugged his mask higher over his face, hoping to slip away unnoticed. The dinner had been a quiet one — a casual gathering with a few industry friends — nothing to raise eyebrows.

But luck clearly wasn’t on his side tonight.

"Jeonghan-ssi?"

He turned at the familiar voice. Standing just a few feet away was you, still adjusting the strap of your bag. Dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, you looked far from the glamorous idol the public was used to seeing.

“Oh… hey,” Jeonghan said, surprised.

You offered a polite smile — the kind idols mastered after years in the spotlight — and gave a small nod. “Didn’t know you were here too.”

“Yeah… just dinner with a few friends,” he explained, pointing over his shoulder.

There was an awkward pause. You weren’t exactly strangers — award shows, backstage run-ins, and overlapping schedules had put you in the same circles before — but you were hardly close.

“Well… have a good night,” you said, turning to leave.

But just then —

Flash! Flash! Flash!

The blinding burst of camera flashes lit up the street like fireworks. Shouts filled the air as a group of paparazzi rounded the corner, cameras firing wildly.

“Jeonghan-ssi! Is this your girlfriend?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Y/N! Did you spend the night together?”

“What the—” Jeonghan barely had time to react before you instinctively grabbed his arm.

“Let’s go!” you hissed, pulling him down the street. The two of you weaved through the crowd, the sound of hurried footsteps and shouting reporters echoing behind you.

“Here!” Jeonghan yanked you into a side alley, pressing his back against the wall as you both caught your breath. Your fingers were still gripping his sleeve tightly.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

“I think so,” you panted, dropping his arm like it burned. “But that… that looked really bad.”

Jeonghan ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah… really bad.”

The next morning

[BREAKING] SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Y/N caught in late-night date — ‘Secret Romance Revealed?’ ‘Caught Leaving Together?’ Dating Rumors Explode Online Fans Demand Clarification After Jeonghan and Y/N's Late-Night Sighting

You scrolled through your phone in disbelief. The blurry photos plastered across the screen showed Jeonghan standing too close, your hand gripping his arm as if you were clinging to him for dear life. #Jeonghan_YN_Dating was already trending.

“Unbelievable…” you muttered. Your phone buzzed. Unknown Number.

“Hello?”

“You saw the articles, right?” Jeonghan’s voice came through the line, sounding both frustrated and tired.

“Yeah…” You rubbed your temples. “This is insane.”

“PR wants us to ‘clear things up,’” Jeonghan said. “They’re asking us to… I don’t know, act friendly? Like we’re just close industry friends.”

You sighed. “Great. So now we’re fake besties.”

“Apparently.” Jeonghan’s voice held a bitter chuckle. “We’re meeting tomorrow for a staged café run. Try not to look too miserable, yeah?”

“Only if you promise not to look smug.”

“Me? Smug?” He laughed, and for a moment, the tension lifted.

But as you hung up, reality set back in. This was going to be a disaster.

The café was buzzing with quiet conversations and clinking cups, yet all you could hear was the rapid thudding of your own heartbeat. Jeonghan sat across from you, casually stirring his iced americano as if this wasn’t the most awkward situation imaginable. The small corner table — handpicked by your managers for “privacy” — felt like a stage under the weight of curious stares.

“Smile,” Jeonghan muttered through his teeth, still pretending to focus on his drink.

“I am smiling,” you shot back, lips barely lifting.

“Try harder.”

Rolling your eyes, you plastered on the fakest grin you could manage.

“That’s terrifying,” Jeonghan chuckled, unable to hold back.

You groaned, adjusting your sunglasses for the third time. “Why did they think this would fix anything?”

“Apparently,” Jeonghan said, voice dipped in sarcasm, “if we sit here long enough looking ‘friendly,’ people will believe we’re just pals.” He took a casual sip of his drink, pausing before adding, “You know… instead of lovers escaping a secret date in the dead of night.”

“Please don’t say that out loud,” you muttered, heat rushing to your face.

Unfortunately, Jeonghan’s comment wasn’t far from the truth. The rumors had spiraled overnight — fans digging through old footage, claiming your eyes met too often on music show stages or that Jeonghan’s smile was “different” when you were nearby. Theories ran wild.

“I can’t believe they think I’m dating you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Jeonghan nearly choked on his drink. “Excuse me?” He placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “Wow. I’m hurt.”

“You’ll survive,” you muttered.

“Unbelievable,” he huffed, shaking his head with a smile that was entirely too smug. “You could’ve at least pretended to be flattered.”

“Flattered?” You snorted. “I’m too busy drowning in hate comments to feel flattered.”

That wiped the grin off his face. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Same.”

For a brief moment, the tension shifted — less awkward, more… real. Jeonghan’s fingers tapped restlessly against his cup, his gaze flickering to the café window where two girls lingered, phones in hand.

“Don’t look now,” he murmured. “But we’ve got an audience.” You instinctively glanced anyway — a terrible decision. The girls' eyes widened as they registered your face, one of them hurriedly whispering to the other.

“Great,” you muttered. “They’re definitely posting that.”

“Guess we better sell this, huh?” Jeonghan grinned — a mischievous one this time — and before you could ask what he meant, he reached across the table and plucked a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

Your heart stopped. “W-What are you doing?” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Helping,” Jeonghan said casually, popping the crumb into his mouth like it was no big deal.

“Unbelievable…” you muttered under your breath, but you knew the girls by the window were practically vibrating in excitement.

“We’re making headlines again, aren’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jeonghan said, voice full of smug satisfaction.

Later That Night

Your phone buzzed non-stop — articles, tweets, and fan edits were already flooding the internet.

“Jeonghan and Y/N spotted on a cozy café date — new couple in the industry?” “Jeonghan’s sweet gesture has fans melting — ‘Did you see him wipe her mouth?!’” “#Jeonghan_YN_CoupleGoals” trending No. 1 worldwide

You groaned, dropping your phone onto your bed. “This is never going to end…”

A text from Jeonghan popped up seconds later: Jeonghan: We should start charging for this. We’re practically giving K-drama scenes for free. 😎

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Jeonghan: Hey… hope you’re okay. Don’t let the comments get to you.

For the first time since the scandal broke, you felt something ease inside you.

You: Thanks. You too.

It had only been three days since the scandal broke, but it felt like weeks. Your name hadn’t left the headlines since the café outing, and no matter how many statements your agency released, the rumors only seemed to grow. The media twisted every tiny detail — analyzing your outfits, digging up old footage, even speculating that SEVENTEEN’s latest album hinted at Jeonghan’s “secret romance.”

Today was no different.

“Ready?” your manager asked, peeking into the waiting room.

You sighed, adjusting your oversized blazer — something your stylist had picked to make you look “more serious and professional” for the upcoming press event. “As I’ll ever be,” you muttered.

“You’ll be fine,” your manager encouraged, though the tension in her voice betrayed her worry.

But the second you stepped outside, you realized fine wasn’t on today’s agenda.

The reporters swarmed like bees, microphones shoved dangerously close to your face. Flashes blinded you, and voices overlapped into a deafening roar.

“Y/N! Over here!”

“Is it true you’ve been dating Jeonghan for months?”

“Did you meet his family?”

“Is this a PR stunt?”

“Excuse me—” you tried, your voice shaking.

Your breath hitched. The air suddenly felt too thick, your head spinning from the overwhelming noise.

“Y/N, look this way!”

“Are you moving in with him?”

“Hey! Back off!” Suddenly, a hand gripped your wrist — firm but steady — and you felt yourself being pulled away from the chaos.

Jeonghan.

He barely looked back as he guided you through the crowd, one arm instinctively moving behind you as a barrier. He didn’t let go until you were safely tucked inside a black van, the door slamming shut behind you.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked, his voice softer now.

You exhaled shakily, pressing your palms to your temples. “I… yeah. Just... overwhelmed.”

Jeonghan frowned, his usual playful smile nowhere to be seen. “They’re insane out there.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. “They think I’m halfway down the aisle with you.”

That earned a dry chuckle from Jeonghan. “Well, I am a catch.”

You let out a weak laugh despite yourself, grateful for the tension lifting.

But then Jeonghan’s voice turned serious again. “You know… you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

You looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know you’re getting a lot of hate because of me. And I hate that. So if you… if you need space, or if you want me to back off —”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, surprising both of you.

Jeonghan blinked. “What?”

Your fingers fidgeted in your lap. “I just… I’m tired of feeling like I have to deal with this alone. It’s stupid, but… you make it a little easier.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Jeonghan’s gaze softened, and his usual teasing smirk faded into something gentler.

“Well…” He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. “I guess that makes two of us.”

The warmth of his presence lingered long after you’d parted ways.

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“Hyung… what is this?”

Jeonghan nearly choked on his water as Seungkwan slammed his phone on the table. The screen displayed a photo of Jeonghan guiding you into the van — his hand lingering on your waist a little too comfortably.

“‘Jeonghan’s Protective Boyfriend Era?’” Joshua read aloud, grinning. “Ohh, this is gold.”

“Did you see the comments?” Seungkwan added dramatically. “They’re calling you ‘Jeonghan-oppa’ now.”

“You guys are so annoying,” Jeonghan groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Mingyu leaned over with a wolfish grin. “We’re just getting started.”

The charity event was supposed to be simple — smile, wave, and look composed. But of course, nothing was ever simple when you were standing beside Yoon Jeonghan.

The second you stepped onto the carpet together, the whispers began.

You kept your expression calm, but the tension coiled tight in your chest. Jeonghan, walking just a step ahead, seemed unfazed — effortlessly charming as he greeted photographers.

“Look, it’s them…”

“They’re totally dating.”

“Did you see that café video? He wiped her mouth!”

“Smile,” Jeonghan muttered through his teeth, barely moving his lips.

“I am smiling,” you shot back, your grin strained.

“Then why do you look like you want to set something on fire?”

“Because I do.”

Jeonghan huffed a soft laugh, barely audible over the noise of cameras clicking. To the crowd, it probably looked like the two of you were flirting — as if the fake smiles and forced laughter meant something more.

“Relax,” Jeonghan murmured. “I’ve got you.”

The words — simple as they were — eased something inside you.

Inside the ballroom, the chaos had dulled to murmured conversations and clinking glasses. Your manager had instructed you and Jeonghan to stay close for appearances, which meant you were stuck together for the evening.

“Here,” Jeonghan said, pressing a glass of water into your hand.

“Thanks,” you muttered, barely managing a smile before taking a sip.

He didn’t move away, hovering beside you instead. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied.

But you weren’t. The stares hadn’t stopped, and the whispers felt deafening. Each smile you forced felt like a crack in your armor.

“Come with me,” Jeonghan said quietly.

“What?”

“Just… trust me.”

The air was cool, crisp against your skin as Jeonghan held the door open for you. The hum of the event below faded, replaced by the stillness of the city lights stretching far into the horizon.

“Breathe,” Jeonghan said softly.

You did. The cold air stung your lungs, but at least out here, you could think.

“I know this is a lot,” Jeonghan murmured, leaning against the railing beside you. “I didn’t think it’d get this bad either.”

“I hate it,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you expected. “The rumors, the comments… I feel like I can’t even breathe without people twisting it into something else.”

Jeonghan was quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, voice softer now. “I get that.”

You turned to him, surprised. “You?”

He huffed a dry laugh. “Trust me, being SEVENTEEN’s ‘angel’ gets exhausting.” He smiled bitterly. “If I’m too nice, people think I’m fake. If I’m too quiet, they say I’m cold. And now…” He gestured vaguely between you two. “Now I’m the guy who’s apparently been sneaking around with a secret girlfriend for months.”

You laughed weakly. “I’d be a terrible secret girlfriend.”

Jeonghan grinned, his usual mischief flickering back. “Yeah… you’d totally blow our cover.”

The joke was light, but the air between you shifted — quieter, heavier.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you admitted. “You never seem to let it get to you.”

“I do,” Jeonghan said quietly. “I just… don’t let people see it.”

There it was — a rare crack in his usual playful mask. And before you could think better of it, your hand reached out, resting lightly over his.

“You don’t have to do that all the time,” you said softly. “You don’t always have to be the one holding everything together.”

Jeonghan’s fingers curled slightly under yours — warm and steady — and you realized with a jolt that you didn’t want to pull away.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

And for a moment, the noise, the rumors, the chaos — none of it mattered. It was just you, Jeonghan, and the quiet comfort of knowing you weren’t alone in this mess.

The comments wouldn’t stop.

Every time you unlocked your phone, they flooded your screen like a raging storm.

"She’s not even pretty. Why would Jeonghan date her?" "She’s using him for attention." "She’s ruining his image."

Your fingers hovered over the screen, scrolling mindlessly through the endless wave of insults. Each comment felt sharper than the last — words that twisted in your chest like knives.

At first, you tried to ignore it. You told yourself it would pass. That people would move on.

But they didn’t.

Instead, your name stayed trending — not for your music, not for your hard work, but because people were convinced you weren’t good enough to stand beside Yoon Jeonghan.

And today… today was worse.

An edited photo of you — your face distorted, mocked, and plastered with cruel captions — had gone viral. The quote beneath it read:

"Proof Jeonghan could do so much better."

Your vision blurred as you locked your phone and set it face-down on your desk. The lump in your throat burned, and no matter how hard you swallowed, it wouldn’t go away.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, and before you knew it — you were crying. Silent, angry tears that spilled faster than you could stop them.

Later That Evening — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

Jeonghan had barely stepped into the living room when he heard the conversation.

“...Did you see what they’re saying about her?” Joshua’s voice was quiet, but laced with concern.

“Yeah,” Mingyu muttered. “It’s brutal.”

“I don’t get it,” Seungkwan huffed. “She’s talented. She’s gorgeous. And she’s one of the nicest idols I’ve met. Why are they—?”

“Because people love tearing others down,” Joshua said grimly.

Jeonghan’s stomach twisted. He didn’t need to hear more. He already knew — the hateful comments, the constant targeting — he’d seen it all.

And you were enduring it alone.

Your Apartment

The knock at your door startled you.

You dragged yourself off the couch, wiping your face as best you could before opening it.

“Jeonghan?”

His eyes flickered over you — the red-rimmed eyes, the dull expression, the exhaustion etched into your face. His teasing smile was gone, replaced by something softer… something that looked dangerously close to concern.

“Can I come in?” he asked quietly.

You stepped aside, too drained to argue.

Jeonghan didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, watching you like he wasn’t sure where to start.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he finally said.

“I know,” you muttered.

Jeonghan exhaled heavily. “Have you seen what people are saying?”

“I’ve seen plenty,” you said bitterly. “Kind of hard to miss when your face is everywhere.”

“Hey…” His voice softened. “You can’t let them get to you.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snapped, your voice cracking. “They’re not calling you ugly. They’re not saying you’re only famous because of some fake scandal.”

Jeonghan’s gaze sharpened. “That’s not fair.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Isn’t it?”

“I know what people are saying,” Jeonghan said firmly. “But they’re wrong. All of them.”

“Doesn’t really feel that way.” Your voice wavered. “It feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Jeonghan’s expression softened. Without warning, he reached out, his hand curling gently around your wrist.

“You’re more than enough,” he said quietly.

You blinked up at him, startled. “You don’t have to say that just because—”

“I’m not.” His grip tightened — not enough to hurt, but enough to ground you. “I mean it.”

And when your eyes flickered to his, you saw it — the warmth, the sincerity… the way Jeonghan was looking at you like you were someone worth protecting.

Your breath hitched. “I don’t know how to keep pretending this doesn’t hurt,” you whispered.

Jeonghan’s fingers slid from your wrist to your hand, threading between your fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Then don’t,” he murmured. “You don’t have to be okay right now. Just… let me stay?”

Your walls — the ones you’d spent weeks building — finally crumbled. The tears came faster than you could stop them, and before you knew it, Jeonghan’s arms were around you.

“I’m right here,” he whispered against your hair. “I’ve got you.”

And for the first time in weeks, you believed it.

The hateful comments didn’t stop. If anything, they’d gotten worse.

Every new headline dragged you back into the spotlight — "Jeonghan’s Rumored Girlfriend Under Fire Again!" — and your face was splashed across every gossip site. The cruel words felt endless, no matter how much you tried to ignore them.

But there was one unexpected shift.

Jeonghan.

Since that night in your apartment, he hadn’t left your side. Texts every morning asking if you’d eaten. Calls before performances. Quiet glances from across crowded rooms — a silent check-in only you seemed to notice.

You should’ve been grateful. But instead, it was starting to scare you.

Because Jeonghan wasn’t acting anymore.

At the Music Show Recording

“You’ll be okay?” Jeonghan asked quietly.

You nodded, adjusting your mic pack with shaky fingers. “Yeah… I’ll be fine.”

“Hey,” his voice softened. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flicking toward the backstage monitors. The audience outside was louder than usual, and you already knew why. The crowd was buzzing with signs, banners — some supportive, others cruel.

Jeonghan followed your gaze and sighed. “Unbelievable…”

“I’m used to it,” you muttered.

“Well, I’m not.” His tone sharpened, and before you could stop him, Jeonghan was already moving toward the stage entrance.

“Wait — Jeonghan, what are you doing?” you called after him.

“Fixing this.”

On Stage

It started with a simple interview — routine questions about SEVENTEEN’s comeback. Jeonghan smiled, cracked a few jokes, and kept the mood light.

But when the MC shifted gears, you knew things were about to get messy.

“So, Jeonghan,” the host began, smirking, “I have to ask… how’s your special someone doing?”

Laughter rippled through the audience — some genuine, some mocking. Cameras panned to the crowd, flashing glimpses of posters with your face crossed out.

Your chest tightened.

“Yeah,” the MC chuckled, “I heard her group’s getting a lot of… attention lately.”

The comment stung, disguised as a joke but loaded with malice.

Jeonghan’s smile vanished.

“Actually,” he said, voice firm, “I think her group’s doing amazing. They’ve worked hard, and they deserve the attention they’re getting — positive attention.”

The room went silent.

Jeonghan’s gaze hardened as he continued, “And I think people forget that no matter how famous someone is… they’re still human. They still feel things. So maybe instead of hiding behind keyboards and tearing someone down, people should focus on supporting the artists they claim to love.”

His words lingered in the air — sharp, deliberate, and impossible to ignore.

The host shifted uncomfortably. “Well… that’s very… thoughtful of you, Jeonghan.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said dryly, “I’m thoughtful.”

And just like that, he grabbed his mic stand and strolled off the stage.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said the second Jeonghan appeared backstage.

“Yes, I did,” he shot back, his voice unusually tense.

“Jeonghan…”

“I’m serious.” His gaze softened, and he took a step closer. “They’ve been dragging your name for weeks. I couldn’t just stand there.”

“I can handle it,” you whispered, your voice barely steady.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond — unsure how to deal with the way his words made your heart ache in a way that had nothing to do with the hate.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked softly.

Jeonghan’s eyes locked on yours — steady and unwavering.

“Because I care,” he said simply.

Your breath caught. “This is starting to feel… too real.”

“It is real,” Jeonghan murmured, his fingers brushing your hand. His thumb ghosted over your knuckles — soft, lingering, far too gentle to mean nothing.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers curled against his.

“Jeonghan…”

“I’m not pretending anymore,” he whispered.

And suddenly, you weren’t sure where the lines between fake and real even existed anymore.

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“I knew it!” Seungkwan’s voice rang through the living room. “He’s gone! Completely whipped!”

“I called it first,” Mingyu shot back.

“You did not!”

Joshua grinned from the couch. “I’m just saying… I’m free on Friday if you guys need help picking out wedding tuxedos.”

Jeonghan groaned, slumping face-first into a pillow.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Unbelievably cute,” Seungkwan corrected.

From under the pillow, Jeonghan’s muffled voice rang out:

“I’m never leaving this dorm again…”

The headlines spread like wildfire.

"Yoon Jeonghan Defends Rumored Girlfriend — 'She’s More Than Enough!’” "Jeonghan Stuns Fans with Emotional Statement — Is Their Relationship Real After All?" "SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan Steps In — Fans Divided Over His Bold Move."

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Fans. Reporters. Even people you hadn’t spoken to in years — everyone had something to say about Jeonghan’s outburst.

The pressure twisted in your chest, and no matter how many times you told yourself to breathe, your heart wouldn’t slow down.

“Are you two really dating?”

“Is he only defending you because the scandal’s true?”

“Why is Jeonghan acting so… protective?”

At the Practice Room

“You’re not answering your phone,” Jeonghan said quietly, standing in the doorway.

“I needed some air,” you muttered, hugging your knees to your chest. The practice room was dark except for the faint glow of the city lights outside. It was quiet — the only place that felt safe these days.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You swallowed hard. “I just… I didn’t know what to say.”

Jeonghan sighed, stepping further inside. He crossed the room slowly, like he wasn’t sure how close he was allowed to get. “I know things are… messy right now.”

“That’s an understatement.” You let out a humorless laugh. “Half the internet thinks I’m some manipulative, fame-hungry girl who tricked you into falling for her.”

“Yeah?” Jeonghan’s voice sharpened. “Well, the other half thinks I’m some careless jerk playing with your feelings.”

You blinked. “That’s not true.”

“Neither’s what they’re saying about you,” he shot back.

Silence settled between you — thick, uncomfortable, and impossible to ignore.

“You shouldn’t have said all that,” you muttered. “Now everyone’s even more convinced this is real.”

Jeonghan scoffed. “You think I care what they believe?”

“You should!” you snapped. “Your group — your career — you put all of it on the line because of me.”

“Because I care about you!” Jeonghan’s voice rose — louder than you’d ever heard it.

The words seemed to echo in the room, both of you frozen in their aftermath.

“You…” Your voice faltered. “You what?”

Jeonghan let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “I care about you,” he repeated, softer this time. “I know this whole thing started as damage control, but…” His voice broke slightly. “It’s not just that anymore.”

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. “Jeonghan…”

“I know,” he cut in quickly. “I know this is bad timing, and I know you’re tired, and I know you probably think I’m just —”

“I don’t,” you whispered.

Jeonghan blinked. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think you’re just… anything.” Your fingers toyed anxiously with the hem of your sleeve. “I just don’t understand why. Why now?”

Jeonghan sighed, stepping closer. “Because I’ve been watching you try to hold yourself together for weeks now — pretending it doesn’t hurt when I know it does.” His voice softened, like he was afraid of pushing you too far. “And every time I see you smile like you’re fine when I know you’re not… it makes me crazy.”

He took another step — so close now you could feel his warmth. “I don’t care what people say,” he murmured. “I just… I couldn’t stand watching you go through this alone.”

Your breath hitched. “I wasn’t alone.”

“You felt alone,” Jeonghan corrected. “And I’m not letting that happen again.”

His hand lifted, fingers brushing your cheek so gently it felt like a whisper.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he said softly.

The warmth of his touch lingered long after he pulled away.

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“I told you!” Seungkwan declared, dramatically flopping onto the couch.

“Unbelievable,” Mingyu grinned. “Hyung’s down bad.”

“Can you two stop?” Joshua chuckled from the kitchen. “Jeonghan’s already regretting everything.”

“I heard that,” Jeonghan groaned from his room.

“We know,” Seungkwan yelled back.

“Good luck keeping this one quiet,” Mingyu added smugly. “At this rate, you’ll be holding hands on stage by next week.”

Jeonghan pulled his pillow over his face and groaned louder.

The night should’ve been simple — just another music show broadcast with groups performing and greeting fans.

But of course, things were never simple anymore.

Since Jeonghan’s public defense, the tension had only grown worse. Some fans called his speech romantic, praising him for standing up for you. Others… weren’t so kind.

Tonight, those cruel voices felt louder than ever.

Backstage at the Music Show

You stood quietly in the hallway, scrolling through your phone. The comments were brutal.

"Still riding Jeonghan’s fame, huh?" "She’s lucky her face isn’t part of their concept, ‘cause wow…” "Why can’t she just disappear already?"

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat and locked your phone.

“Don’t read that stuff.”

You turned to see Jeonghan standing a few feet away, his expression softer than usual.

“I wasn’t,” you lied.

“You were,” Jeonghan said firmly, stepping closer. “And you don’t deserve any of it.”

Before you could answer, a staff member called for SEVENTEEN to head to the stage.

Jeonghan hesitated, gaze lingering on you. “I’ll be back, okay?”

You forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced.

On Stage — The Ending Segment

The music show’s closing ceremony was chaotic — idols packed together, waving to fans while confetti rained down. Cameras scanned the groups, lingering on certain faces longer than others.

That’s when you heard it.

“Hey.”

A voice, low but cutting, came from somewhere behind you.

“You should’ve quit while you had the chance,” the voice sneered. “Maybe then Jeonghan’s career wouldn’t be going down with yours.”

You froze. The words hit like a slap, sharp and humiliating.

Slowly, you turned. A junior idol — someone desperate for attention — stood smirking, clearly pleased with himself.

“Excuse me?” you said quietly, your fingers curling into fists.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You’re dragging him down. Maybe if you weren’t so —”

“What did you just say?”

The voice wasn’t yours this time.

Jeonghan appeared like a shadow, stepping between you and the other idol. His usual teasing smile was gone — replaced with something colder, sharper.

“Jeonghan, hey,” the guy stammered, suddenly looking less confident. “I was just joking —”

“That wasn’t a joke.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, dangerously calm. “If you have a problem with me, fine. But don’t you ever talk about her like that again.”

The crowd was starting to notice — cameras turning, staff whispering.

“Relax, man,” the guy mumbled. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I don’t care what you meant,” Jeonghan snapped. “If you say one more word about her, you’re gonna regret it.”

And then — before you could even process what was happening — Jeonghan grabbed your hand.

Firm. Protective. Unapologetic.

The noise around you blurred as he pulled you offstage, ignoring the murmurs and stares. His fingers didn’t loosen their hold until you were backstage — away from the cameras and the judging eyes.

Backstage — Moments Later

“Jeonghan…” you started, still stunned. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he shot back. “You think I was just gonna stand there and let him humiliate you?”

“It’s not your fight,” you said quietly.

“Yes, it is.” His voice softened, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t care what people say about me. But you?” His hand slid down your arm, fingers curling over your wrist again — softer this time. “I’m not letting anyone treat you like that.”

Your breath hitched. “You’re going to get dragged into more rumors if you keep—”

“Let them talk.” Jeonghan’s voice dropped lower, quieter. “None of that matters to me.”

His fingers brushed against yours — barely a touch, but enough to make your heart race.

“Why?” you whispered.

Jeonghan exhaled shakily, like he’d been holding it in for too long.

“Because I’m tired of pretending,” he murmured. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care about you.”

The weight of his words hit you all at once. Your eyes searched his, finding nothing but quiet honesty.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Jeonghan’s thumb traced the back of your hand, a soft gesture that lingered longer than it should have. “Just… don’t push me away this time.”

And for once, you didn’t.

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“I cannot believe this,” Seungkwan gasped, pacing the room. “He really just — in front of everyone?!”

“He grabbed her hand, hyung!” Mingyu grinned like he’d just won the lottery. “No more rumors — this is officially real.”

Jeonghan groaned from his spot on the couch, tugging his hoodie over his face. “I’m never showing my face in public again.”

Joshua chuckled, patting Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. If the fans didn’t think you were in love before… they definitely do now.”

From under the hoodie, Jeonghan’s muffled voice muttered:

“…totally worth it.”

The headlines didn’t waste time.

"Jeonghan’s Public Outburst — What’s Really Going On?" "Jeonghan Caught Holding Hands with Rumored Girlfriend — Dating Confirmed?" "Fans Divided Over Jeonghan’s Growing Attachment."

Your social media had become impossible to manage. Some fans flooded your posts with hearts and encouragement — others weren’t as kind. The comments were brutal.

"What did she even do to deserve this?" "She’s clearly manipulating him." "Jeonghan’s ruining his career over some nobody."

You were exhausted — mind clouded with anxiety, heart caught between frustration and confusion.

At the Practice Room

You pressed your forehead against the mirror, eyes closed tightly. The tension in your chest wouldn’t go away — like a constant knot that refused to loosen.

“Deep breaths,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re fine. You’re—”

“You’re not fine.”

Your eyes snapped open.

Jeonghan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze locked firmly on you.

“You’ve been ignoring my texts,” he said quietly.

“I’ve been busy,” you muttered.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Jeonghan corrected.

You let out a heavy sigh, turning back to your reflection. “It’s easier that way.”

“Easier?” His voice rose slightly. “You think ignoring this — ignoring me — is gonna make things better?”

“I think dragging you into this any more than I already have is a bad idea,” you shot back. “The fans hate me. Your company’s probably furious with you. And for what? Because you can’t stop defending me?”

“Because I care about you!”

The room went silent.

“I care about you,” Jeonghan repeated, his voice softer now. “And I don’t regret standing up for you — not for a second.”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “Jeonghan… you can’t keep putting yourself in the middle of this.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” he said firmly. “I chose this.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in days, you let yourself really look at him. The way exhaustion weighed on his features… the way he still stood there, unwavering, like no amount of public backlash could change his mind.

“Why?” you asked quietly.

“Because…” Jeonghan took a careful step closer. “Because when all this started, I thought I was just protecting you. But somewhere along the way… I stopped pretending.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I don’t care what they say,” Jeonghan murmured. “I don’t care what the media writes or what strangers on the internet think they know about me. All I know is…”

He paused, gaze locking with yours.

“All I know is that I’m falling for you,” he whispered. “And nothing else matters.”

The air between you felt heavy — thick with unsaid words and emotions too overwhelming to ignore.

“Jeonghan…”

“I mean it,” he said softly. “But if you tell me to back off, I will.” His fingers curled at his sides, like he was forcing himself not to reach for you. “If you don’t want this — if you don’t want me — just say the word.”

You opened your mouth to speak… but the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth — the one you’d been burying under fear and self-doubt — was that you wanted him, too.

“I don’t want you to back off,” you whispered.

Jeonghan’s breath caught. “You don’t?”

You shook your head, voice trembling. “I just… I didn’t think you really meant it.”

“I do,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I really, really do.”

And this time, when his fingers brushed yours, you didn’t pull away.

Later That Evening — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“You what?!” Seungkwan practically shrieked, nearly knocking over his drink.

“You heard me,” Jeonghan muttered from his spot on the couch, face half-buried in a pillow.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Mingyu held up his hands like he needed to process it all. “So you confessed — and she didn’t reject you?”

“Nope,” Joshua grinned. “She didn’t.”

“Which means…” Seungkwan’s eyes widened. “You two are, like… together now?”

“I don’t know!” Jeonghan groaned. “I think so?”

“Oh my God,” Seungkwan gasped dramatically. “Our Jeonghan… in an actual relationship?!”

“I give it three days before you start acting disgustingly cute,” Mingyu teased.

“Don’t be jealous,” Jeonghan smirked from behind his pillow.

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Mingyu shot back. “I’m just glad I don’t have to hear you whine about your crush anymore.”

Seungkwan flopped beside Jeonghan with a smug grin. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you two humble.”

“Please don’t.”

“No promises.”

The call from your company came faster than you expected.

“You need to stop seeing Jeonghan.”

Your manager’s voice was firm — no room for argument.

“This scandal isn’t dying down,” they continued. “And now that Jeonghan’s gotten involved? Fans are turning on both of you. If you don’t cut ties soon, this could hurt your group’s comeback — not to mention your career.”

You swallowed hard, fingers curling tightly around your phone. “So you’re telling me to pretend he doesn’t exist?”

“I’m telling you to protect yourself.”

Meanwhile — At SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“You want me to what?” Jeonghan’s voice was sharp — a rare crack in his usual calm.

“Take a step back,” the manager warned. “Pledis doesn’t want this blowing up any more than it already has.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore her?” Jeonghan’s voice rose. “Like none of this ever happened?”

“You’re risking the group’s reputation,” the manager said firmly. “If you care about her as much as you claim… you’ll leave her alone before this gets worse.”

Days Later — Practice Room

You stared blankly at the mirror, eyes glassy. The weight of your manager’s warning had been gnawing at you for days.

“...if you care about him, you’ll stay away.”

The words haunted you.

And so, you kept your distance. No texts. No calls. No lingering glances when you knew Jeonghan was nearby.

It hurt — more than you wanted to admit.

“Y/N…”

You flinched at the sound of his voice. Turning slowly, you found Jeonghan standing at the doorway — eyes dark, face tense.

“You’re ignoring me,” he said quietly.

“I’m just… busy,” you mumbled.

“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “You’re avoiding me.”

“Jeonghan, I—”

“Don’t.” His voice cracked slightly. “Don’t push me away.”

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered.

“It is that simple,” Jeonghan insisted. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I know what they’re telling you — I know what they’re saying about me, too.” His hand reached for yours, fingers barely brushing your wrist. “But none of that matters. Not if we—”

“It does matter,” you cut in, voice trembling. “If we keep this up, you’re going to get hurt. Your group — your career — I can’t be the reason you lose all of that.”

“You’re not,” Jeonghan said fiercely. “This isn’t just some passing scandal. This is us. And I’m not letting anyone tell me I can’t have that.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer — so close you could feel his warmth.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same,” he murmured. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll walk away.”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to say it — to end this before it spiraled even more out of control.

But the words wouldn’t come.

“I can’t,” you whispered instead.

Jeonghan’s shoulders dropped with relief. Without warning, his hand slid up to cup your face — thumb brushing your cheek so gently it made your heart ache.

“I don’t care what they say,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“So…” Seungkwan perched on the arm of the couch, grinning like he knew something.

Jeonghan sighed. “What?”

“You did meet up with her, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please.” Mingyu flopped beside him. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot since you walked in.”

“Yeah,” Hoshi chimed in. “And you’re still wearing her bracelet.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened. He glanced down at his wrist — the small braided bracelet Y/N had given him months ago.

“…oops.”

Seungkwan gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. You’re not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Joshua grinned from the kitchen. “Jeonghan’s finally gone soft.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “I’m not soft.”

“Sure,” Mingyu smirked. “Tell that to the smile you’re trying to hide.”

Jeonghan’s face burned, but he couldn’t bring himself to wipe the grin off his face.

The article dropped like a bomb.

"Jeonghan’s Secret Romance — How Long Have They Really Been Together?" "Insider Reveals Y/N’s History of Using Connections for Fame." "Did Y/N’s Group’s Success Depend on Jeonghan’s Influence?"

The accusations weren’t just cruel — they were personal. The article painted you as manipulative — someone who clung to Jeonghan to boost your career.

Fans flooded social media. Some defended you, but the louder voices were full of anger.

"She’s been leeching off SEVENTEEN’s popularity this whole time." "I knew she wasn’t genuine. Poor Jeonghan." "I hope Pledis makes him end this soon — she’s ruining him."

It was suffocating.

At Your Dorm

“Just stay offline,” your manager urged, pacing the room. “We’ll issue a statement — deny everything.”

“It won’t matter,” you muttered. “They’ve already decided I’m the villain.”

Your voice broke at the end, and your manager softened. “This will pass,” they promised. “People forget these things quickly.”

But you weren’t convinced.

Meanwhile — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

Jeonghan’s phone buzzed nonstop. His inbox was overflowing — texts from worried staff, Pledis representatives warning him to “avoid further controversy,” and comments that cut deeper than he expected.

"I never thought Jeonghan would fall for someone so desperate." "He deserves better." "I can’t believe he’s risking everything for her."

“You okay?” Joshua’s voice was soft.

Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh. “No.”

“You should talk to her,” Joshua said.

“I don’t know if I should,” Jeonghan mumbled. “What if I make things worse?”

“You think ignoring her will make things better?” Joshua shook his head. “She’s hurting, Jeonghan. And you’re the only one who can fix that.”

Later That Night — Outside Your Dorm

The knock at your door startled you.

“Y/N…” Jeonghan’s voice was quiet, barely audible through the door.

You wiped your eyes and opened it. He stood there — hair tousled, eyes heavy with concern.

“Can I come in?”

You hesitated but stepped aside.

“I saw the article,” he said softly. “I know what they’re saying, and I…” He paused, like he was trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.” Jeonghan’s voice hardened. “They’re attacking you because of me. And if I had just —”

“Stop,” you cut in. “I’m tired of pretending this is just your fight. It’s our fight, Jeonghan. And I’m scared.”

Your voice cracked, and Jeonghan’s face softened.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

For a moment, you just stood there — hearts racing, words unspoken.

Then Jeonghan reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. His fingers lingered, warm and comforting.

“I don’t care what they say,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” you whispered. “You should let me go before this gets worse.”

“I can’t,” Jeonghan said, his voice breaking. “I don’t want to.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave — all the worry, the pain, the longing you’d tried so hard to bury.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in — and Jeonghan was already there, meeting you halfway.

His lips pressed softly against yours — tentative at first, like he was still giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Your fingers tangled in his hoodie, holding him closer as the tension finally broke — weeks of fear and frustration melting into something warmer, something real.

When you finally parted, Jeonghan’s forehead rested against yours, breath shaky.

“We’ll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”

The Next Day — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“You WHAT?!” Seungkwan’s scream practically shook the walls.

“You kissed her?” Mingyu grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Finally!” Hoshi cheered. “I thought I was gonna have to lock you two in a room together.”

“Please don’t,” Jeonghan muttered, sinking into the couch.

“Too late,” Seungkwan declared dramatically. “I knew this was happening — it was only a matter of time!”

“I’ll admit,” Joshua added with a smile, “I’m impressed you managed to last this long.”

Jeonghan sighed, face buried in his hands. “I hate you all.”

“No, you don’t,” Mingyu teased. “You’re too busy being in love.”

Jeonghan groaned loudly — but deep down, he knew they were right.

The photo spread like wildfire.

Blurry yet unmistakable — you and Jeonghan standing outside your dorm, his hand on your face, your head leaning against his chest. The dim streetlight barely masked the intimacy of the moment.

"Jeonghan and Y/N — Secret Late-Night Meeting CONFIRMED!" "Rumors Were True All Along?" "Fans Furious Over Jeonghan’s Lies."

The backlash hit immediately.

"I can’t believe he lied to us." "So they’ve been sneaking around this whole time?" "He’s throwing away SEVENTEEN’s hard work for her?"

Your heart sank reading the comments — each one sharper than the last.

“You need to deny it.”

Your manager’s voice was cold and clipped. “Your group’s comeback is weeks away, and if you don’t fix this now, they’ll blacklist you from promotions.”

“I can’t just—”

“You can,” they interrupted. “And you will. Unless you want to lose everything you’ve worked for.”

Their words hit hard. You thought about your group — the years spent training together, the exhausting schedules, the moments you’d fought so hard to earn your place in the industry.

Were you willing to risk all of that… for him?

Meanwhile — At SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“They want me to lie,” Jeonghan muttered, voice low. “Say it was a misunderstanding. Say we’re just friends.”

“Are you gonna?” Joshua asked gently.

Jeonghan shook his head. “I can’t.” His fingers clenched tightly around his phone. “I’m not letting her take the fall for this. Not alone.”

“You’re really serious about her,” Joshua said softly.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Jeonghan admitted.

Later That Evening — Outside Your Dorm

You opened the door to find Jeonghan standing there — hair damp from the rain, eyes sharp with determination.

“Jeonghan…”

“I know what they’re asking you to do,” he said quickly. “I know they’re telling you to end this — to act like none of this ever happened.”

You swallowed hard. “They said I’ll lose everything if I don’t.”

“And if you do?” Jeonghan’s gaze softened. “You’ll lose me.”

Your breath caught.

“I don’t want you to choose between me and your career,” Jeonghan said carefully. “But I need you to know… I’m not hiding this anymore.”

“What?”

“I’m going public.” His voice was firm. “If they want someone to blame, they can blame me. If they want someone to drag through the mud, I’ll take it. But I’m not letting them tear you down for this.”

“You can’t,” you whispered. “You’ll ruin your career—”

“I don’t care.”

His hand reached for yours, fingers curling tightly around your own.

“I love you,” Jeonghan said softly. “And I’d rather face the whole world knowing I chose you… than lose you trying to save my reputation.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare — stunned, overwhelmed, and hopelessly in love.

“Jeonghan…” your voice shook. “I love you, too.”

His eyes lit up — like hearing those words made everything else disappear.

“Then let’s fight this,” he whispered. “Together.”

The Next Day — SEVENTEEN’s Press Conference

The room buzzed with reporters, cameras flashing from every angle. The members sat in a neat row, tension thick in the air.

Jeonghan’s mic clicked on.

“I know there’s been a lot of talk about me recently,” he began, voice calm but steady. “So I want to be honest — with my fans, with my members, and with everyone else watching.”

He paused, exhaling slowly.

“Y/N and I… we’re together.”

The room exploded with noise — reporters shouting questions, camera shutters clicking furiously.

“But I need to say this,” Jeonghan continued firmly. “Y/N isn’t to blame for this. If anyone deserves criticism, it’s me. I’m the one who pursued her, I’m the one who refused to let her walk away. So if you’re angry… be angry with me.”

He glanced down at his members, who — to his surprise — were smiling.

“Yah,” Seungkwan muttered loudly enough for the mic to catch. “We told you to confess to her months ago.”

The room erupted in startled laughter.

“Yeah,” Mingyu added, grinning. “Took you long enough, hyung.”

The tension lifted — even if just slightly — and Jeonghan felt his chest unclench for the first time in weeks.

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“I still can’t believe you actually did it,” you said, resting your head against Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“Me neither,” Jeonghan admitted, fingers threading through your hair. “But I’d do it again if it means I get to keep you.”

“You know they’re still talking about us, right?”

“Let them talk,” Jeonghan said quietly. “As long as I’ve got you… I don’t care what they say.”

His lips brushed your forehead, lingering long enough for you to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “Not now… not ever.”

The air inside Pledis felt suffocating.

“You can’t be this reckless, Jeonghan.” The manager’s voice was tight with frustration. “You might think this is romantic, but SEVENTEEN’s comeback is in two weeks. The media’s still focused on this scandal, and it’s dragging the group down.”

“I’ll take the blame,” Jeonghan said firmly. “Leave the others out of it.”

“That’s not how this works,” the manager snapped. “You’re part of SEVENTEEN. Everything you do reflects on them.”

Jeonghan clenched his fists. “So what? You want me to apologize for loving someone?”

“I want you to be smart about this,” the manager shot back. “For now, you’re off the next few promotions. The group can handle it without you.”

Jeonghan’s stomach dropped.

“You’re pulling me from the comeback?”

“No.” The manager’s tone softened. “But until this dies down… lay low.”

Meanwhile — At Your Company

“You won’t be joining the group’s next variety appearance,” your manager informed you bluntly.

“What?!”

“It’s better this way,” they added quickly. “The more you’re seen right now, the worse things get for your group. We can’t risk that.”

“But this isn’t just about me,” you said, voice shaking. “I worked just as hard as the others—”

“And you’re risking all of it because of this relationship,” they cut in. “You need to understand… if you keep this up, you won’t just lose your career. You’ll drag your members down with you.”

Your stomach twisted painfully.

Two Days Later — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

Jeonghan sat on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, as Mingyu quietly placed a can of soda beside him.

“Hyung…” Mingyu began softly.

“I’m fine,” Jeonghan muttered.

“You’re not fine,” Mingyu shot back. “You’ve barely spoken since Pledis pulled you from promotions.”

Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the point? I’ve already messed everything up.”

“You didn’t mess things up,” Seungkwan cut in, appearing in the doorway. “But you are being dramatic.”

Jeonghan shot him a tired glare.

“I’m serious,” Seungkwan said, plopping down beside him. “We’re a team — one stupid scandal isn’t going to ruin SEVENTEEN.”

“But what about her?” Jeonghan’s voice faltered. “Her company’s freezing her out. If she loses everything because of me…”

“Then stop sulking and do something about it,” Hoshi said, suddenly popping his head into the room.

“Like what?”

Hoshi grinned. “Leave that to us.”

The Next Day — Social Media Buzzes

"OMG SEVENTEEN’s Seungkwan just posted a hilarious dance cover — he’s in a full dinosaur costume!" "Mingyu’s live? Why is he making pancakes… at midnight?" "Hoshi’s teaching choreography on TikTok and... failing miserably?!"

Fans were confused — but entertained. SEVENTEEN’s chaotic antics became an instant distraction, drawing focus away from Jeonghan’s scandal.

Later That Night — Quiet Streets

The hashtags shifted.

#JeonghanScandal → #SeventeenDinoDance

#BoycottY/N → #MingyuPancakeKing

You barely recognized Jeonghan with his cap pulled low and mask covering most of his face. He stood just beyond the streetlamp’s glow, waiting for you.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come,” you said softly, guilt weighing heavy on your heart.

“I needed to see you,” Jeonghan whispered. “I don’t care what they’re saying. I just… I had to know you’re okay.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I am.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jeonghan murmured, stepping closer. His hand reached for yours, fingers lacing tightly between your own. “I never wanted this for you.”

You shook your head. “You’re not the problem, Jeonghan. It’s… everything else. My group’s upset. My company’s turning its back on me. I feel like I’m losing everything I worked for.”

“You’re not losing me,” Jeonghan said quietly.

Tears welled in your eyes. “But what if that’s not enough?”

“It is enough,” he said firmly. “You’re enough.”

His arms slipped around you, pulling you close — warm and steady in a way that made the noise of the world seem distant.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair. “And I’m not giving up on you — or us.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back.

For the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe again.

The leaked recording hit social media like wildfire.

"Y/N’s agency planned her removal from the start?" "Insider reveals Y/N’s relationship was just an excuse to sideline her." "Did Y/N’s company sabotage her own career?"

The recording — muffled yet painfully clear — played over and over online.

“She’s too independent. Too popular. This scandal just makes it easier to push her back a little. It’s better if we let her fade quietly.”

Your heart sank when you heard it.

“They were planning to get rid of me,” you whispered.

Your manager’s voice echoed in your mind, cold and calculated. “This is better for everyone. The group will do fine without her.”

So all the late-night practices, the sleepless nights, the sacrifices you’d made for your career… had never been enough.

Meanwhile — At SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

Jeonghan stared at his phone screen, fingers clenched tightly around it.

“They’re using her,” he muttered. “All this hate... they planned it.”

“Hyung…” Joshua’s voice was calm, but worried. “You need to be careful.”

“They’re already blaming me,” Jeonghan said bitterly. “Rumors about a dating ban are everywhere.”

“You know Pledis,” Joshua said. “They’ll do whatever keeps the fans happy.”

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care. If they think I’m giving up on her, they’re wrong.”

Later That Night — Your Dorm

You barely reacted when Jeonghan knocked on your door.

“I heard about the recording,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “I’m tired of fighting.”

Jeonghan’s hand reached for yours, fingers threading together.

“You can’t let them win,” he said firmly.

“I don’t know how to keep going,” you confessed. “My company’s turned against me. Fans still hate me. My group is…” Your voice broke. “I’m scared, Jeonghan. What if I end up with nothing?”

“You won’t,” Jeonghan said quietly. “Because you’ll still have me.”

His words hit you hard. The tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

“I don’t want you to lose everything because of me,” you choked out.

Jeonghan’s arms circled you tightly, holding you like you were something precious — something he refused to lose.

“I’d risk it all for you,” he whispered. “Every last bit of it.”

You pulled back, eyes searching his. “But what if—”

“I’m not letting go,” Jeonghan cut in, voice firm. “Not unless you tell me to.”

His fingers brushed your cheek, wiping away your tears.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll fight for you — as long as you’ll let me.”

In that moment, all the fear, all the pressure, all the noise seemed to fade.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

The Next Morning — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“We need something big,” Seungkwan declared, pacing the room like a man on a mission. “Something so distracting that no one’s talking about the scandal anymore.”

Mingyu’s face lit up. “What if we—”

“No,” Joshua interrupted. “No food fights. No pancake stunts. No chaos.”

“But—”

“Let’s go viral on purpose this time,” Seungkwan insisted.

“You mean… coordinated chaos?” Hoshi grinned.

“Exactly.”

Later That Day — Online

The internet didn’t know what hit it.

Mingyu live-streamed himself reading dramatic poetry while wearing sunglasses indoors. Seungkwan and Vernon posted a dance cover in dinosaur suits — with Dino chasing them in the background.

Then came Hoshi’s masterpiece — a staged “news interview” where he dramatically whispered into the camera:

“Breaking news: Jeonghan is still a menace to society. Please send thoughts and prayers.”

The hashtags shifted overnight.

The energy changed. Suddenly, people were laughing again — not at you, but with SEVENTEEN.

#BoycottY/N → #JeonghanMenace

#Y/NScandal → #DinoDanceChallenge

#JeonghanDatingScandal → #MingyuPoetryKing

A Few Days Later

You and Jeonghan sat side by side, his fingers gently tracing circles on the back of your hand.

“I think things are getting better,” you said softly.

“Because of those idiots,” Jeonghan chuckled.

You smiled — a real one this time.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” you admitted. “But… I’m glad you’re still here.”

Jeonghan turned toward you, his gaze softening.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Not now… not ever.”

Then, with a smile so warm it made your heart skip a beat, he leaned in — pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

The message had been simple.

"Meet us at the practice room at 7 PM. Don’t be late."

You sighed, adjusting your mask as you entered Pledis. Lately, everything felt heavy — the constant whispers, the judgmental stares, the endless rumors. Even your own members seemed distant, their smiles feeling more forced than genuine.

So when Jeonghan’s text arrived, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe SEVENTEEN wanted to talk — or maybe they were just checking in. Either way, you didn’t expect much.

But the practice room was empty.

Confused, you noticed a small envelope taped to the mirror. Your name was scrawled across it in Jeonghan’s familiar handwriting.

“Follow the stars.”

Frowning, you stepped back into the hallway — only to see small glow-in-the-dark star stickers trailing along the floor.

The Performance

The stars led you to a different room — one of Pledis' larger rehearsal spaces. The lights were dim, but as soon as you stepped inside...

Music started playing.

"✨ Baby, baby, baby... ✨"

The soft, familiar tune of SEVENTEEN’s Adore U echoed through the room — and suddenly, Seungkwan burst through the door, dramatically clutching his chest like he was personally serenading you.

“I adore youuuu...” he sang loudly, spinning in slow motion as Vernon popped up beside him, striking an exaggerated pose.

Then came Hoshi — dancing like he was auditioning for Broadway. Joshua followed, holding a fake rose between his teeth. Dino dramatically slid across the floor as if this was some grand love confession.

It was ridiculous. It was chaotic.

And for the first time in days... you laughed.

“I know, I know... you're my angel...”

One by one, the members circled you — reaching out, pointing dramatically to you as the "star" of their performance. Jeonghan appeared last, grinning as he sang his part directly to you.

His gaze never left yours.

When the song ended, Mingyu shot you finger-hearts. “You’re welcome,” he teased.

“You guys are insane,” you laughed breathlessly.

“And you’re smiling again,” Jeonghan murmured beside you, voice softer now. “That’s all that matters.”

“Come with me,” Jeonghan said quietly.

You followed him upstairs, your fingers brushing his as you walked side by side. The rooftop was quiet — but breathtaking.

Fairy lights were strung across the railing, glowing softly against the evening sky. A blanket was spread out beneath a cluster of pillows, and a small box sat beside a flickering candle.

“You did all this?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Well… technically Mingyu nearly set the candles on fire, and Hoshi tried to hang the lights upside down,” Jeonghan chuckled. “But yeah... this was my idea.”

You sat down together, the soft hum of the city below filling the silence. For the first time in weeks, you felt calm — like the world outside couldn’t touch you here.

“I know things have been hard,” Jeonghan said quietly. “I hate that you’re carrying all this alone.”

“I just...” Your voice wavered. “I feel like I’m losing everything. My group, my career... I don’t even know if I belong here anymore.”

“You do belong here,” Jeonghan said firmly. He reached for the small box and placed it in your hand. “And you’ll never lose me.”

You opened the box — inside was a delicate silver bracelet, a tiny star charm dangling from the chain. Engraved on the charm were the words: "나의 별 (My Star)."

Your breath hitched. “Jeonghan…”

“You’ve always been my star,” he said softly. “Even when things feel dark... I just look for you, and somehow, I know I’ll be okay.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Jeonghan smiled — warm, soft, yours.

“I love you, too.”

He leaned in slowly, brushing your hair back before pressing his lips to your forehead. His lips lingered there, soft and steady, before moving to kiss you — gentle at first, but deepening as you melted into him.

For the first time in weeks, the noise of the world faded away — leaving only the warmth of Jeonghan’s arms and the quiet rhythm of his heart against yours.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeonghan murmured against your lips. “I promise.”

And for the first time in a long while... you believed him.

The public’s reaction to the leaked voicemail felt like a storm finally shifting direction.

"I can’t believe Y/N’s company did this to her..." "She’s been working so hard, and they just threw her away??!" "#StayStrongY/N — you’ve got people who love you!!"

The tide was changing. Fans began flooding social media with messages of support. Edits of you smiling on stage resurfaced. Clips of Jeonghan sneaking glances at you during award shows went viral again — but this time, the captions were softer.

"He’s been in love with her all along... you can see it."

For the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

A Few Days Later — Outside a Café

The cold air nipped at your skin as you stepped outside, adjusting your mask. You’d been hesitant to go out lately, fearing judgment — but Jeonghan had encouraged you to step back into the world, even if just for a short walk.

“Excuse me…”

You froze. A soft, nervous voice called from behind you. Turning slowly, you saw a young girl — maybe fourteen — standing there, clutching her phone tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just… I saw you, and I—”

You braced yourself for the worst.

“I just… I wanted to say…” Her voice shook. “I believe in you. And... I think you’re really amazing.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“You… you do?”

She nodded quickly. “When I saw everything people were saying, I... I knew it wasn’t fair. You worked so hard, and you deserve to be happy.”

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them away.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “That… that means more than you know.”

The girl smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Oh! Wait!” She dug through her bag, pulling out a small letter — folded neatly, your name written across the front.

“I wrote this,” she said shyly. “Just in case I ever got to meet you.”

Before you could even respond, she gave you a quick bow and hurried off down the street.

You stood frozen, clutching the letter to your chest — warmth spreading through you for the first time in what felt like forever.

The Next Day — Jeonghan’s Interview

“Hyung, are you sure about this?” Seungkwan asked, shifting nervously.

Jeonghan adjusted his mic, his expression calm but determined. “I have to.”

The interviewer greeted him with a polite smile, but the tension in the room was undeniable.

“So, Jeonghan… there’s been a lot of talk about you and Y/N recently. Would you like to address the rumors?”

Jeonghan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I would.”

The room fell silent.

“I know a lot of people have opinions about this,” he began slowly. “And I get it — being an idol means people watch everything we do.” He paused, exhaling deeply. “But what hurts the most is how much Y/N’s suffered because of this.”

He looked directly at the camera now, voice stronger.

“She’s one of the hardest-working people I know,” Jeonghan said firmly. “She’s passionate, kind, and she’s given everything for her career. The hate she’s faced… it’s unfair.”

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his voice faltering for a moment.

“I care about her,” he continued softly. “A lot. And I’m not going to hide that.”

The interviewer’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting Jeonghan’s open confession.

“She’s been my friend, my biggest support... and the person I love,” Jeonghan finished. “If people want to blame me for that, fine. But please… stop hurting her.”

Hours Later — Online Reaction

"Jeonghan just openly confessed on live TV???" "I’m crying — he really said, 'She’s the person I love.' 💔" "This is the softest thing I’ve ever seen. #WeSupportJeonghan."

The hashtag #WeSupportJeonghan trended within hours. Support poured in from both SEVENTEEN’s and your fans.

For the first time in weeks, things felt... brighter.

Later That Evening — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“You’re a legend, hyung,” Mingyu declared dramatically, tossing a pillow in Jeonghan’s direction.

“You’re lucky Pledis didn’t kill you,” Seungkwan added. “But honestly… worth it.”

“I figured we should celebrate,” Hoshi chimed in, holding up his phone. “Going live in 3… 2…”

“Wait, what—” Jeonghan started.

But it was too late.

SEVENTEEN’s Live Stream

“HELLOOOOO!” Hoshi yelled into the camera. “We’re here to talk about the true hero of today — Jeonghan the Romantic King!”

Mingyu grabbed a hairbrush, singing dramatically into it. “Jeonghan and Y/N, sitting in a tree... K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Hyung, confessing on live TV?” Seungkwan grinned. “We knew you were whipped, but this is a whole new level!”

“Enough, enough!” Jeonghan tried to grab Hoshi’s phone, but Mingyu tackled him before he could.

The comments flooded in instantly:

“OMG they’re so chaotic I can’t breathe.” “Mingyu STOP HAHAHA.” “I stan Jeonghan’s love story more than my own life.”

Amidst the chaos, Jeonghan finally gave up and laughed — a real, carefree laugh that echoed through the room.

And for the first time in what felt like forever… everything felt okay again.

The warmth from Jeonghan’s interview still lingered in your chest. His words — “She’s the person I love” — played in your mind like a song stuck on repeat.

For the first time in weeks, the world felt softer — less suffocating. Fans were rallying behind you, Jeonghan’s members were your biggest cheerleaders, and you finally felt like you could breathe again.

But the moment of peace didn’t last long.

Two Days Later — Meeting Room at Your Agency

Your manager’s face was stone-cold. The tension in the room felt suffocating as your company’s CEO folded his hands on the desk.

“You need to cut ties with Jeonghan,” he said flatly.

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said firmly. “This scandal isn’t over yet, and now Jeonghan’s confession has made you both an even bigger target.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “We’re giving you two options — either publicly deny your relationship… or we pull you from your upcoming comeback.”

Your breath hitched. “You’re threatening to take away everything I’ve worked for?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” your manager snapped. “It’s for your own good.”

Your own good?

“You mean for your good,” you shot back. “Because now people know you tried to sideline me.”

“Think carefully, Y/N,” the CEO warned. “Jeonghan’s career will survive this. But yours?” He shook his head. “You don’t have the same luxury.”

Later That Night — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

The moment Jeonghan opened the door, you fell into his arms.

“Hey, hey…” His voice softened as his arms wrapped around you tightly. “What’s wrong?”

You buried your face in his chest, the warmth of his embrace breaking the dam you’d tried so hard to hold together.

“They’re forcing me to break up with you,” you choked out. “Or they’ll pull me from my group’s comeback.”

Jeonghan’s arms stiffened. “What?”

“They’re giving me two choices — either I deny everything, or they ruin my career.”

Jeonghan pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. “We’ll fix this,” he promised. “I won’t let them hurt you like this.”

“But what if they—”

“I’m not losing you,” Jeonghan cut in, his voice firm. “Not after everything.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His thumbs brushed softly across your cheeks, and the quiet comfort of his presence made your heart ache.

“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “I’m with you. Always.”

The Next Morning — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“You’re telling me they’re threatening her?” Seungkwan’s voice rose an octave. “That’s insane!”

“Hyung, this is serious,” Joshua said, pacing the room. “If Y/N’s company doesn’t back down…”

“We’re not letting them win,” Jeonghan said firmly. “I’ll talk to Pledis if I have to.”

“And if they try to keep you quiet?” Joshua asked.

Jeonghan’s gaze hardened. “Then I’ll make sure the world knows exactly what they’re doing to her.”

“Hyung…” Seungkwan’s voice softened. “Are you sure? You’ve worked so hard to get here.”

“I know,” Jeonghan said quietly. “But she’s worth it.”

Later That Day — Social Media Erupts

Jeonghan’s next move wasn’t subtle.

@JeonghanOfficial "Love shouldn’t come with conditions. No one should have to choose between their career and their heart."

The post went viral in minutes.

“Is Jeonghan throwing shade at Y/N’s agency?” “He’s protecting her AGAIN I’M SOBBING.” “This man is fighting for her like it’s a K-drama.”

That Evening — Your Dorm

“Y/N.”

You froze when your manager stormed into your room, phone clutched tightly in his hand.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I didn’t—”

“Jeonghan’s post is everywhere,” he snapped. “Now you’re both trending, and we’re getting flooded with press inquiries.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you shot back. “People are starting to see what you’re doing — and they’re not okay with it.”

Your manager’s expression twisted. “If you don’t fix this, you’re out.”

Hours Later — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm Rooftop

“I’m scared,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “What if I lose everything?”

“You won’t,” Jeonghan said softly, reaching for your hand.

“But if my company doesn’t back down…”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” Jeonghan said firmly. “You’re not alone in this.”

His fingers traced the bracelet he’d given you — the one engraved with 나의 별 (My Star).

“Remember what I told you?” he whispered. “You’re my star… no matter what happens, I’ll always find you.”

This time, when you leaned into him, you didn’t just feel comfort — you felt safe.

And for the first time in weeks, you believed that somehow… you’d both be okay.

The message came late at night.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand, the screen lighting up with a notification from your manager.

"You are no longer a member of the group. The company will release an official statement in the morning."

You stared at the message for a long time, your fingers trembling as you gripped the phone.

It was over.

The group you’d poured your heart and soul into — years of sleepless nights, endless rehearsals, and sacrifices — all taken away because you refused to let your love be a scandal.

Your phone slipped from your hand as you pressed your palms over your face. The tears came quickly, silent but unstoppable.

The Next Morning

"I can’t believe Y/N’s company actually kicked her out!" "She’s been with them since DAY ONE — and this is how they treat her??" "#BringBackY/N is trending worldwide OMG."

Fans flooded social media. Within hours, hashtags like #JusticeForY/N, #BringBackY/N, and #WeSupportJeonghan dominated the trending list.

Clips of you performing on stage resurfaced — moments where you sang with unwavering passion, moments where you pushed through exhaustion just to stand alongside your group. Fans remembered everything.

"If Y/N isn’t part of the next comeback, I’m DONE supporting this company." "We’re not buying a single album unless they bring her back!"

The boycott movement spread like wildfire — fanbases from other groups even voiced their support.

At SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“Have you seen this?” Joshua’s voice broke the silence, phone in hand. “The fans are seriously threatening to boycott.”

“It’s working,” Seungkwan muttered, scrolling through his feed. “Her company’s getting destroyed online.”

Jeonghan exhaled shakily. “I should be happy,” he said softly. “But none of this matters if she’s still hurting.”

“She’ll get through this,” Joshua reassured him. “You’ll get through this... together.”

A Few Hours Later — At Your Apartment

The pounding at your door startled you.

“Y/N!” Jeonghan’s voice rang out. “Please — just let me in.”

You hesitated, wiping your face before opening the door. The moment he saw you, Jeonghan’s face softened.

“I heard…” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

“I knew they’d do this,” you said quietly. “But it still... hurts.”

Jeonghan cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a tear. “Everyone’s fighting for you right now — your fans, other idols... everyone.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But I can’t go back.”

Jeonghan’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because…” Your voice trembled. “Even if they let me back in the group, I’d be walking back into the same toxic environment. They never treated me well, Jeonghan.” You swallowed hard. “I can’t go back to a place that made me feel like I didn’t belong.”

Jeonghan’s grip on you tightened — not out of frustration, but out of understanding.

“Then don’t,” he said softly. “You don’t owe them anything.”

“But the fans…” Your voice faltered. “I don’t want to let them down.”

“You’re not letting them down,” Jeonghan reassured you. “They’re fighting for you because they love you — not because they want you to suffer.”

His fingers found the bracelet on your wrist — the star charm shining softly in the light.

“You deserve better,” Jeonghan murmured. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

You felt yourself break down, falling into his chest as the weight of everything finally caught up with you. His arms held you tightly, like he was trying to piece you back together.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair. “For choosing yourself... for being strong.”

For the first time in weeks, you believed it.

Days Later — A Surprise Statement from SEVENTEEN

Jeonghan’s agency broke the silence with an unexpected announcement.

"Jeonghan will be stepping back from activities for the time being to support Y/N during this difficult time. We ask for your understanding."

The fans erupted with mixed emotions — some worried, others praising Jeonghan’s unwavering loyalty.

But the loudest voices? The ones demanding your former company be held accountable.

"This isn’t over until Y/N gets the respect she deserves." "Even if she doesn’t go back to the group — we’ll support her no matter what." "We’re with you, Y/N — always."

For the first time in weeks, the noise didn’t feel so loud anymore.

Instead, it felt like a chorus of voices — not shouting against you, but standing with you.

And when Jeonghan reached for your hand, his fingers lacing tightly with yours, you knew that somehow… you’d both make it through this.

The days following Jeonghan’s statement felt like a blur. Messages of love poured in from fans, old friends, and even strangers. Despite the warmth, a lingering emptiness clung to you — a hollow reminder of the career you’d spent years building, now gone.

You knew walking away from your group was the right decision, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Three Days Later — SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed at his phone screen.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” Seungkwan asked, noticing the tension in his face.

“Look at this.” Jeonghan handed him the phone. An article was spreading online — an exclusive interview featuring a former idol from your company.

[EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW: Former Idol Speaks Out Against Agency’s Mistreatment]

"I saw it firsthand," the idol confessed. "They treated Y/N horribly behind the scenes — constantly blaming her if things went wrong. The managers pressured her to hide injuries and pushed her harder than anyone else."

"And after the dating scandal? They deliberately sabotaged her — cutting her lines, pulling her from promotions, and forcing her to take the blame for something she didn’t even do wrong."

"Y/N’s been through so much… and she didn’t deserve any of it."

Seungkwan’s eyes widened. “Wait… they cut her lines?”

“I knew they treated her badly,” Jeonghan muttered, “but this?”

“It’s not just her fans now,” Seungkwan said, scrolling through comments. “People are furious.”

"Y/N’s company better apologize — this is disgusting." "She was dealing with this and a dating scandal? She’s stronger than I’ll ever be." "#JusticeForY/N — we’re still here for you."

Later That Evening — Your Apartment

“Did you see the interview?” Jeonghan asked softly, sitting beside you on the couch.

You nodded. “I can’t believe they said all that. I thought... no one knew what was happening.”

“People know now,” Jeonghan said firmly. “And they’re fighting for you.”

You offered a small smile, but doubt lingered in your eyes. “It’s just… what am I supposed to do now?”

“You still love music,” Jeonghan said quietly. “I know you do.”

You sighed, fingers tracing the charm on your bracelet — the tiny star that had become your comfort.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“You don’t have to.”

Jeonghan smiled softly, reaching into his pocket. “Because I already figured that out for you.”

He handed you a folded piece of paper.

“What’s this?” you asked warily.

“Just… trust me,” he said with a grin.

The Next Day — Surprise at Pledis Studio

When Jeonghan brought you to Pledis, you felt your stomach twist.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you mumbled, anxiety creeping in.

“You can,” Jeonghan said firmly, squeezing your hand. “Just trust me.”

He led you to a practice room — but when the door opened, you froze.

Inside, SEVENTEEN’s members stood scattered across the room — some with instruments, others by microphones. Hoshi grinned from behind a speaker, while Woozi stood by the keyboard, adjusting sound levels.

“What… is this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Your new beginning,” Jeonghan said proudly.

“We’re helping you record a song,” Joshua explained, stepping forward. “Woozi’s been working on a track for you.”

“You’re… serious?” Your voice shook.

“Of course we are!” Hoshi beamed. “This is your comeback — your real one.”

“We believe in you,” Woozi added quietly. “And I know this won’t fix everything… but it’s a start.”

You blinked rapidly, overwhelmed. “I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes,” Jeonghan said softly, his eyes warm and full of quiet encouragement.

And so you did.

Hours Later — Inside the Recording Booth

Your hands shook slightly as you put on the headphones. The melody started — soft, comforting, yet powerful.

Woozi’s voice came through the speaker. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and sang — quietly at first, then louder as the music swelled.

The emotions poured out — the hurt, the fear, the heartbreak... but also hope. A flicker of strength you didn’t know you still had.

When you finished, you turned to the glass where Jeonghan stood, watching proudly. He gave you a small thumbs-up — his smile warm and full of love.

For the first time in weeks… you felt like yourself again.

Two Weeks Later — Online Reaction

The song — “Unfinished Star” — was released quietly, but it didn’t take long for fans to find it.

"Y/N’s voice sounds even more powerful than before. I’m crying." "She’s back... stronger than ever." "We’ve been waiting for this, Y/N — we never stopped believing in you."

The overwhelming support washed over you, filling the void you once feared would never heal.

And as you scrolled through the comments, Jeonghan’s voice echoed in your mind:

"You’re my star... no matter what happens, I’ll always find you."

You smiled, clutching your phone tightly.

He had found you — and this time, you knew you weren’t shining alone.

The success of Unfinished Star took you by surprise.

In just a few days, the track had climbed the charts — not just because of SEVENTEEN’s involvement, but because fans believed in you. Their comments flooded every platform:

"Y/N’s voice has always been amazing — now the world’s finally listening." "Her emotions hit so hard… I’m so proud of her." "She doesn’t need her old group — she’s a star on her own."

But for every supportive message, there was still noise from your former company.

At Your Former Agency’s Office

“Are you sure we can spin this?” your former manager asked, pacing the room.

The CEO scowled, reading the latest headlines.

"Y/N’s Emotional Return Shines Brighter Than Ever!" "Ex-Idol’s Comeback Outshines Her Former Group’s Promotions."

“She’s gaining sympathy,” the CEO muttered. “And sympathy sells.”

“What if we… I don’t know… claim the song was ours?” your manager suggested.

The CEO’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll say we supported her from the start. Flip the narrative — make it sound like we encouraged her to pursue solo activities.”

“But that’s a lie,” your manager said cautiously.

The CEO smirked. “It doesn’t have to be true — it just has to look true.”

Later That Day — Online Statement from Your Former Agency

"We are proud to have supported Y/N throughout her journey. Her recent success is a reflection of the dedication we nurtured during her time in our company. We look forward to celebrating her continued achievements."

Your phone nearly slipped from your hands.

“They’re really trying to twist this?” you muttered under your breath.

Before you could even process the betrayal, your phone buzzed again — this time from Jeonghan.

At SEVENTEEN’s Dorm

“I can’t believe they’re doing this,” Jeonghan muttered angrily, pacing back and forth. “They’re acting like they didn’t kick you out!”

“I should just ignore it,” you said quietly, still processing the statement. “I don’t want to drag this out.”

“You don’t have to ignore it,” Joshua said firmly. “They’re taking credit for everything you did on your own.”

“Yeah,” Hoshi chimed in. “You deserve to speak up.”

Jeonghan stopped pacing, turning to you. “If you’re ready… we’ll help you.”

The Next Morning — Your Statement

With Jeonghan beside you, you started the live stream.

“I didn’t plan to say anything,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “But I can’t stay silent anymore.”

You took a deep breath, feeling Jeonghan’s quiet presence beside you.

“My former agency claims they supported me through this,” you said slowly. “But the truth is… they didn’t.”

Your fingers gripped the bracelet on your wrist — the star charm grounding you.

“They cut me from performances. They isolated me from my group. And when I refused to deny my relationship with Jeonghan, they forced me out completely.”

Pausing, you swallowed hard, feeling your emotions build.

“But despite everything… I’m still here. I’m still singing because of the people who believed in me — my fans, my friends… and Jeonghan.”

You turned to him briefly, and his warm smile gave you the courage to finish.

“I won’t let anyone rewrite my story,” you said firmly. “Because this is only the beginning.”

A Few Days Later — SEVENTEEN’s Concert

“Come with me,” Jeonghan said, tugging your hand as the concert neared its end.

“Wait, what?” you stammered. “Where are we—”

Before you could protest, you were backstage — and SEVENTEEN’s encore had just begun.

“We’ve got one more surprise,” Seungkwan announced, his voice echoing through the venue.

Your heart stopped as Jeonghan took your hand and led you on stage.

The crowd erupted in cheers — deafening, overwhelming, yet so full of love.

“Everyone!” Jeonghan shouted into his mic. “This star right here?” He turned to you with a smile. “She’s been through so much… but she never gave up.”

The cheers grew louder.

“You believed in her when no one else did,” Jeonghan continued. “And because of you… she’s back where she belongs.”

He gave your hand one final squeeze before stepping aside — motioning for you to take the mic.

The crowd went quiet.

And then… you sang.

Later That Night — Backstage

“You did it,” Jeonghan murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“We did it,” you corrected, smiling softly.

“You know…” Jeonghan smirked. “I still remember the first time I saw you on stage. I knew back then you were something special.”

“You’re just saying that,” you teased.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “Back then… you were just my crush.” He leaned in closer, voice low. “But now? You’re the love of my life.”

The warmth in his eyes stole your breath away.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you more,” Jeonghan smiled, his fingers gently tracing the bracelet on your wrist.

“You’re still my star,” he murmured. “And no one’s ever going to dim your light again.”

[ticklygiggles]

Tickets and Tickles | Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader

Commissioned by @wertzunge

A/N: Another one for amazing and kind and lovely and cute Maaaax ❤️ hope you enjoy this one as well! So happy to see Yamaguchi and reader finally taking the next step ddidndkdkddkdn

Summary: You bought tickets for a volleyball game as a surprise gift for Yamaguchi!

Words: 2k

Your backpack felt heavy, like you were carrying an anvil, but in reality it was just two tickets to a volleyball game you had just bought. A volleyball game that Yamaguchi really wanted to go to. You weren't going to lie, the tickets were a little more expensive than you thought and the pinch you had to give to your savings was big, but that had been forgotten when you thought about the expression Yamaguchi would make when giving them to him. 

He'd been talking about that game for weeks. You were always happy to hear him ramble about it, and when you saw that longing expression on his face, you knew immediately you'd do anything to be able to take him there. Now those tickets lay between the pages of your English notebook, waiting to be revealed in the afternoon when Yamaguchi and you were on your way home after school. You had planned everything carefully: getting the tickets, inviting Yamaguchi to a sleepover at your house on Friday afternoon, giving him the tickets, and going to the game together the next day.

The perfect plan, no doubt, yet you couldn't understand why you were so nervous. You knew perfectly well Yamaguchi would love this surprise—were you just ridiculously excited? Your heart was pounding, your cheeks slightly flushed due to the accelerated flow of blood. The walk to school was endless, and upon entering your classroom, you felt like you were walking with the same hand and foot, you probably were. 

Yamaguchi was already there and your heart leaped with excitement as you saw him approaching you with that bright smile of his.

“Good morning!” he said your name so… nicely.

The noise of your classmates' conversations seemed to fade away as you focused solely on Yamaguchi. He led you to your desk, right in front of his. 

“G-Good morning, Tadashi,” you stuttered, avoiding his eyes and hanging your backpack next to your desk. “H-How are you doing?” 

Yamaguchi raised an eyebrow and your heart raced even faster as he narrowed his eyes, studying you closely. 

“What's the matter?” He asked, taking a step closer to you, causing you to step back in response. 

“W-What? Nothing! I- ah, good morning, Kei!” Tsukishima, who had been watching the scene with disinterest, raised a hand and placed his headphones back over his ears, bobbling his head at the rhythm of the music he was listening to. 

A sudden poke to your side made you jump and gasp, looking at Yamaguchi who looked at you curiously. 

“You're hiding something.” Another poke and this time you couldn't help but giggle softly as you flinched away. “What is it?” 

“I'm- I'm not-” another poke, “Tahadashi! I'm serious, I don't-

“Good morning, class. Everyone take your seat, please.” 

The shuffling of seats filled the room as all the students greeted the teacher. You shot one more glance at Yamaguchi before sitting down as well and reaching for your notebook. You almost couldn't hold back a squeal when you felt a squeeze on your waist. Your arm immediately moved to your side, and you quickly glanced at the teacher who, luckily for you, was turned away writing an equation on the board.

You looked back at Yamaguchi, your eyes clearly saying 'behave yourself, we're in class!', but maybe it was because of your blushing cheeks that Yamaguchi ignored you and kept pinching your waist and poking your ribs every time the teacher turned around. 

Your face was so red, it was hard not to notice and unfortunately for you, the teacher noticed it too. He called your last name and you jumped a little. 

“Are you feeling sick?” He asked, concerned. “You can go to the infirmary if you need to.”

You shook your head. “I'm alright, thank you, just a little hot. I'm sorry.” 

The professor nodded, unconvinced, but returned his gaze to his textbook, explaining the math problem. Yamaguchi lightly touched your shoulder. 

“I'm sorry~,” he whispered sincerely, and you smiled slightly, letting out a sigh while nodding. There was no way you could be upset with him

After that, Yamaguchi behaved himself throughout the day and didn't bother you as much during class, except for a little pinch here and a gentle poke there. However, he did keep insisting all day that he knew something wasn't right, he said he wasn't sure what it was, but there was something very strange about you that day.

His words only made you more nervous, making you look even more suspicious in his eyes. At lunch, Yamaguchi tickled you until you spilled juice on the table, Tsukishima scolded you two and said that if you didn't stay still, he would make you do it. The games were over, but Yamaguchi kept insisting, he already knew you even better than you knew yourself. 

By the last class, your sides were aching from stifled laughter, and you sighed with relief when the final bell of the day rang. A wide smile spread across your face as you slung your backpack over your shoulder and gave it a little pat. You were almost ready to give the tickets to Yamaguchi! You could hardly wait! What kind of face would he make? Would he cry? You laughed to yourself, gasping a little when you felt a small poke on your cheek. 

“Ready to go?” Yamaguchi asked, smiling so brightly at you. 

You nodded. “Ready! See you on Monday, Kei!” 

He smiled softly and nodded, “Mn. Until Monday. Have a good weekend.” 

You waved goodbye at him as you walked to the lockers with Yamaguchi, leaving your shoes and then finally walking out of the school's gates. On the way, Yamaguchi took the opportunity to talk about the game once more, as if he hadn't talked about it for the past week, but you didn't care. You enjoyed listening to him. 

You both walked slowly, enjoying the afternoon as you chatted, and the tickets in your backpack seemed to vibrate, but it was probably just you. You both arrived at your house too quickly, taking your shoes off at the entrance, heading to your room. 

Should you give them to him now or later? You thought carefully. Maybe later would be better? But what if he needs to prepare? So now? But what if- 

“Gotcha!” 

“Aack!” You squealed as you were suddenly pushed backward onto your bed. You fell with a small gasp and looked up at Yamaguchi, blushing as he straddled you. “T-Tadashi?! What are you- ahahaha! No! Nohoho, plehehehase! Not tihihickling! Why?!” 

Yamaguchi giggled softly. “Because you refuse to tell me what's up with you,” he said, his hands squeezing up and down your ticklish sides, causing you to laugh and squirm. “I know you're up to something and you don't want to tell me. Now, spill the beans!” 

You laughed and writhed underneath him, shrieking and squeaking as he tickled all of your weak spots. Your hands were kind of useless, flailing as you tried to catch his, but he moved too fast or you too slow. His fingers left your sides only to sneak under your shirt and tickle your bare stomach. 

“Tahahahadashi! Stahahahap!” You laughed, cackling a little as he clawed at the middle of your stomach, his fingers digging firmly but gently into the muscles. Your hands closed around his arms, trying to push them away, and Yamaguchi clicked his tongue. 

“These pesky hands!” he growled playfully, holding your hands and shoving them underneath his knees, pinning them. “Much better.”

You shook your head, laughing loudly as he resumed the tickling on your belly. “Ahahaha! Nohohot fahahair!” 

Yamaguchi giggled. “Nuh-uh, what's unfair is that you're hiding things from me! I am your best friend! I need to know everything!” He laughed at his own words, fingers quickly clawing up to your ribs, raising your shirt on the way, exposing more of your sensitive skin. 

You let out a burst of laughter, arching your back as he rubbed at your ticklish ribs. 

“You know exactly where I'm going, right?” He asked with a huge grin and you shrieked with laughter. 

“PLEHEHEHASE! Nohoho, nohot thehere!” You begged, cackling again when his fingers moved to the back of your ribs. “Hohohold ohohon!” 

“What?” He asked. “Ready to talk?” 

You shook your head. “Dohohon't tihickle my ahaharmpihits!” 

“Tickle your armpits? Okay!” 

“AHAHAHA! I HAHATE YOU!” 

Yamaguchi laughed. “Nah, you don't, but your underarms probably do- tickle tickle tickle~” 

You laughed, cackled, screamed with laughter as he tickled your armpits mercilessly. His fingers wiggled and dug right into the hollow, making you snort ridiculously loud. Happy tears glistened on your lashes as Yamaguchi opened his legs a bit more, causing your arms to also spread out slightly, giving him more room to tickle your poor armpits. 

“TAHAHAHADASHI!” 

“Yes~? I'm right here! Are you ready to talk?” He giggled, pinching the sensitive skin and making your laughter turn breathless. “Oho~ someone's very ticklish right here!” 

This wasn't part of the plan! How come you were squirming around, giggling like a fool while Yamaguchi tickled you?! Was it fun? Yes. But it was ruining everything you had planned up to that point! The surprise— 

“Wait! WAHAHAHAIT!” You laughed out in cheerful panic when Yamaguchi grabbed one of your wrists from under his knee and brought it over your head to tickle your armpits better. “Fihihine! Fine, I'll tehehell you! Plehehehase!” 

Yamaguchi chuckled. “Let's hear you first, and I'll decide if I let you go.” 

You try to catch your breath, trying to calm down the residual giggles and the soft twitches of your body. 

“I… I…,” your cheeks flushed even more. “I got you tickets for that volleyball game you've been talking about…” 

Yamaguchi widened his eyes. “... You're lying.”

You shook your head. “Let me show you,” you mumbled sheepishly, looking down at your almost bare torso. 

Yamaguchi quickly got off you and helped you sit up. You stood up from the bed and walked to your backpack, pulling out your English notebook and then the tickets before walking back to him. 

“Here,” you said with a warm smile, lending him the tickets. “You and I. Tomorrow.” 

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened even more, his hands trembling slightly as he grabbed the tickets from your hand. He looked at them incredulously, reading the information on them over and over as his cheeks, (and his whole face), turned crimson and his mouth dropped open.

You chuckled softly and the sound made him look up at you, his eyes finding your bright smile and your sweet eyes. “Are you happy?” 

“Th-Thank you-” he said breathlessly, getting up from the bed and cupping your cheeks between his hands. Your eyes widened, your breath hitching in your chest as his face came closer to yours, his soft lips pressing against yours in a sweet, chaste, loving kiss. 

You both were kissing. You were kissing! His lips against yours, kissing! This was your first kiss! How many times have you imagined this exact moment? Feeling guilty for having these kinds of feelings toward Yamaguchi, your best friend of all people… But he also liked you? Did he like you too? Or did he just not know how to express his gratitude? But would you kiss someone like that just to say thank you? 

You held your breath, your cheeks as red as Yamaguchi's as you closed your eyes and leaned into the tender kiss, making Yamaguchi jolt a little, as if he had just realized what he had just done.

He pulled apart rather quickly, gasping when he fell back against the bed and you blinked, flustered to your core. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean- no, wait, I actually did mean it but– I was- you are- what-” 

You laughed softly. “I like you, Tadashi,” you said sheepishly, smiling tenderly at him, letting yourself look at him with almost adoration. 

Yamaguchi gasped softly, looking at you with surprise in his eyes, surprise that softened to love. “Are you serious?” he asked, standing up again and cupping your cheeks one more time. “I'm- I- I also like you very much,” he whispered and you smiled wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you. 

“What should we do now?” You ask in a whisper as well, your nose nuzzling his. 

Yamaguchi let out a soft sound, something like a whimper as he nuzzles you back. “We should… get in a relationship and… kiss one more time.” 

“Hmm~ yeah, I think I like the sound of that, boyfriend,” you said, giggling as his breath hitched and he pressed his lips against yours again, almost desperately. 

“Thank you,” he said, pulling apart slowly, “for the tickets, but above all, for reciprocating my feelings.” Yamaguchi smiled, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks. 

You smiled as well, little tears of happiness rolling down your cheeks. “Oh, you're so corny,” you said and you both started to laugh about it before sharing another kiss and another and one more. 

After all, you both were in a relationship. 

Who would have thought that tickets to a volleyball game would make you confess your love for each other? You were really grateful to yourself for having made that decision. 

[districtunrest]

ONGOMGOMGOMG. (share thoughts. any n all. you know i need to know. PLEASE!)

HAHA sorry. anyway:

I didn’t really like it and I’m sad about it. ☹️ even though there were some interesting ideas and cool new characters, I was taken out of the story too much to fully enjoy them. it read to me like the laziest (most rushed? least edited?) yet most forced storytelling of the series, which sucks bc it’s supposedly the REAL backstory of my favorite character. but I just couldn’t shake my doubt while reading that this was what we and Katniss were missing all along. too many details (that I memorized by heart as a tween and have made everyone’s problem since) didn't match up, even with the card-stacking*. so I just don't believe this was always the intended ‘real’ story when it’s so hidden from the trilogy... imo, SC went back to it with a mission statement in mind after recent current events (and, more tellingly, after Ballad) and did her thing. which is fine, that's her right - it's just, when this whole book seems more like a writing workshop thought experiment than the intended backstory, I will treat it as such. bc as it stands, all the callbacks & connections & Everlark parallels in the world cannot replace Katniss & Peeta watching the highlight tape of his Games, Haymitch telling them what he did was “almost but not quite” as bad as them with the berries, Katniss finally understanding who he is in that moment, and Haymitch later admitting the loss of his loved ones were because of "that stunt [he] pulled with the forcefield" (which is. simply not true anymore with all of his stunts in and out of the arena). like say no more, that’s good enough for me! it’s what I prefer and what I find more compelling than what’s revealed/subverted in Sunrise. and tbh that discrepancy makes Sunrise unfaithful, at least in my eyes, for all it relies on references to the rest of the series. 

now, obviously I had mixed feelings about this prequel in the first place, and my concerns/reservations mounted with each excerpt, only to be confirmed now... but I did try, okay!?? haha I’d told you and several others privately that I really wanted to like this book and I was willing to set aside my gripes if it was good - but it had to actually be good! instead, the book was exactly what I was afraid it was going to be *and* suffered a drop in quality. I found the narration underwhelming, dumbed down and repetitive, and not evocative of Haymitch's voice. even things I thought there was NO WAY would actually happen and I was just being paranoid - but then they did, lmao. like, it was a letdown for me personally *and* it didn’t even do it well enough where I could at least respect it and oblige, lol

overall, it was just too off for me. by answering and explaining so much, it ended up taking away a lot of the trilogy's charm and intrigue - and did so in a way that left a bad taste in my mouth. it made me view Ballad in a more negative light, too, tbh. so I think going forward I’ll just consider it a weird spinoff that is secondary to the main/trilogy canon. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(some more Haybitching under the cut)

tbh, what guts me the most is what SC chose to do with Haymitch’s voice & character, where she watered him down to what he needed to be for this lesson & this plot. it’s frustrating that the dangerous, cunning, arrogant boy that Katniss sees in the highlight reel and can easily recognize in adult Haymitch is all an act. the character we thought we knew is not present here, sacrificed to make yet another point about propaganda, and that’s a crying shame. and his deterioration in the final chapters is so underwhelming (as are the death scenes 🫣) - I've read that same story countless times but told better by people who love the character as is and weren't on a time crunch for a movie deal, I guess.

Sunrise!Haymitch skews shockingly immature and moralistic and hates the idea of being a sarcastic, selfish “rascal." but since when are we calling surviving and fighting to get home in an unthinkable situation selfish? that’s now assumed in Sunrise’s logic, where instead having a ginormous alliance against the Careers with no exit plan (big ‘WHAT IF ALL THE TRIBUTES BANDED TOGETHER AND DIDN’T FIGHT?’ energy) is much smarter and nobler than going it alone and heading in one direction to get to the edge for no reason other than bc nobody had tried it before and trilogy!Haymitch, we know, is an out-of-box thinker & strategist. I know he & Ambert were operating under the notion that they were going to lose no matter what and had their own plans (which. hmm) but it was just so oddly accepted by the Newcomers, too, who had no such threat from Snow. they were so willing to be selfless martyrs and band together when they all know at the end of the day there can only be one survivor - which was heartening in a way, sure, but it almost seemed trite? and again, needlessly moralistic in an established world like Panem, where these things happen every year...? not even self-righteous (Katniss' words but with Haymitch's backing!) Peeta 'not a piece in their games' Mellark thought so narrowly. Idk. I might have to mull that one over more. but anyway, then Haymitch trying to rescue Maysilee is turned into a mini redemption arc in post, when all it was in the first place was a glimpse into his protective & caring nature underneath all the bravado, which was surely part of Katniss’ deepening understanding of him. but Sunrise wasn’t interested in exploring that, either, or even honoring it. okay

and I can’t get over how SC had to kind of retcon the final pages of Mockingjay to fit Haymitch’s epilogue into it, which didn’t help how it already rang so hollow for me, I hate to say. it’s not even done well, containing the most rushed, wrap-up-everything-before-the-deadline writing I’ve ever seen from SC (and it STILL doesn’t read like Haymitch’s voice to me :/). some things can just be; they don’t need some big, loaded, tragic explanation. Haymitch can glibly call Katniss ‘sweetheart’ once, bc she’s been sullen & hostile to him and he is in fact sarcastic (the horror!), only for it to go on to become an actual term of endearment by the end - like, that’s lovely in and of itself. why weigh it down further? who asked for that? I know I didn’t. 

most insignificantly & pettily of all: geese do mate for life - as in monogamously, meaning they stay together until one of them dies. then, they mourn and find another mate. just putting that out there, lmao

*how tf was Haymitch able to kiss his token and set up a bomb and throw it over the edge and put his token back when we know he was convulsing from shock by the end? to where Silka was able to start staunching her wound as she waited for him to die? if him going into shock was taken from footage anytime after, the arena would've been quaking/on fire around him?? Idk fam. it just feels off.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#148 Part 2

Danny feels himself grow bright red and the two stare into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. 

“I- Uh… I’m Danny” He finally managed to mutter. 

“Damian Wayne, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Danny's blush grew even brighter as the next moment Damian kissed his hand, Danny couldn’t help but feel flustered. 

After a moment  Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stuttered out, “It’s nice, to meet you too” He could tell how happy Damian was to meet him and he felt a little bad for feeling nervous in the first place. Danny thought Damian was cute and he decided then that he wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better. First they had to get through the rest of the gala, and soon as he thought about the gala something clicked. 

He realized Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne who at the moment was talking to his own parents. He couldn’t help but stare as he let the information sink in. 

“Ah yes it looks like Father is talking to some of the scientists that were invited.” Ancients, Danny knew his parents couldn’t help being themselves and unfortunately that meant things like accidentally spilling fudge right onto Mr. Wayne's suite. They watched as Mr. Wayne told his parents it wasn’t a problem and then walked out of the room. 

Danny couldn’t help but sigh, “Sorry about them, my parents are a little eccentric. Don’t even get me started on their obsession with ghosts, my dad will not shut up sometimes.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously again as he realized he was rambling a little bit. 

“Don’t worry it looks like Father handled the situation well, although I am curious what kind of inventions two scientists obsessed with ghosts create. That’s what this gala is about, we want to support scientists in untapped fields of study.” Danny listened as his soulmate explained things to him. 

Danny looked over to see Vlad talking to a thin scientist in the corner of the room. He was definitely up to something, a ball like this had Vlad scheming something with a mad scientist written all over it. 

He was brought out from his thoughts as a loud crash could be heard as the wall across the room burst open and none other than the Joker walked through.

Danny tried to make his way to the other side of the gala, strangely Damian had disappeared but Danny didn’t have the time to look for him.  

However when he got to the door staying low to the ground the door burst through and more of Joker's goons looked straight at him and he found himself tied up right in front of the Joker. 

“What do we have here? A new Wayne?” Joker said as he cupped Danny's face in his hand. Danny couldn’t do anything about the situation and he was getting a little scared considering he didn’t have a proper way to go ghost or protect his soulmate at the moment. 

The Joker circled around the tied up hostages laughing, “Of course now the fun begins”

The Joker continued to circle around the hostages thinking for a moment before he grabbed Danny.

He held Danny by the back of the shirt like a small kitten. His obsession was making him wonder if his soulmate was safe living in Gotham. Joker chuckled as he continued to hold Danny.

“This kid will be an example for the rest of you, I don’t want any outbursts like that again, especially when Batman gets here. Do you think Batman will like what I’ve done with the place?” He asked as he gestured around the ruined room. All of the tables and chairs had either been broken or knocked over and all of the food from the dessert and appetizer tables. It was quite the mess. Before Joker could do much else with the teen he had dangling in his grasp something flew out and smacked Joker right in the back of the head causing him to drop Danny.

Danny took that opportunity to get away, his hands may have been tied but his feet were sure free. He stumbled away as Batman dropped down and a fight between him and the Joker commenced. 

Danny ran towards the door and as he got there Robin and Nightwing were there ushering some of the other hostages out of the room. 

“Right this way citizens!” Nightwing said brightly at them but he seemed to brighten up a bit more when he saw Danny weirdly. 

“Have either of you seen Damian Wayne?” Danny asked, he at least wanted to get his number, especially when he was headed back to Amity soon.

They seemed to share a look before looking back at him, “Damian left, he’s headed safely back to Wayne manor.” Robin said but he held out a piece of paper. On it was Damians signature and his phone number. Danny sighed a little annoyed he had left but he guessed it was common to head back home after a rogue attack in Gotham. 

“Danny!!” the booming voice of Jack Fenton was suddenly heard and Danny felt himself getting pulled into a very familiar bear hug. 

“Did you have fun at the gala? Your father and I saw you talking to Mr. Wayne's son,” His mother said after his feet were back on the ground. 

“Yeah, actually can we talk about that after we’re back in our room?” He wanted to tell his parents he found his soulmate but saying that outloud when Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne sounded like a bad idea. 

They headed back to the hotel room and all Danny could think about was how lucky he was to have met his soulmate tonight, even if he was nervous about everything.

Master Post:

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[milkmily]

Together

ᝰ.ᐟ❣️⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr.Scarletella x fem Reader

Smut I Saw like a theory in tik tok where it said (something like this not quite sure) that MC would leave bodies right and Mr Scarletella would think that she'd do all of that for him so he would be super interested in them. So imma use that :D also reader Is in college because I don't like using the term “school” cuz its uncomfortable and i'm writing smut.

Ahead: Unprotected Sex(stay safe:p) and biting also sorry it's super short 😔

“Me want your name.”

This had always happened. Well, like maybe 2 times. But now, he won't leave you alone after you have found out what you have done. What you really are. You just aren't some cute woman who goes to college. You were a murder. Why? Just to get that adrenaline that would come with it.

As you took their lives, you had always had this feeling as if someone was looking at you. Eyes. Always, always, Always on you. At everything you did. But you'd turn and check every corner and nothing. No one would be there. Maybe you were just paranoid. You haven't even been caught yet. So it wouldn't matter. And now here you are, face to face with what has been looking at everything you have ever done. Mr. Scarletella.

“You give your name?”

He asks. You had two options. Try to beat him, even though you knew that wouldn't work, or finally give your damn name to him. You remembered the telephone had told you to not give your name. Mr. Crawling had protected you the first time you had met Mr Scarletella. You threw your crowbar at him and he started to glitch. He asks again and you didn't answer, attacking him but again, it went right through him. And everything changes. You open your eyes and see him face to face with you. You hold your crowbar high and your eyes go wide at what he said.

“You like me? Me like you.” He says and you give him a puzzled look. “What?” You asked as you lowered your crowbar. “Let us go together. You teach name?” You groan and throw the crowbar at him again. And you start to speak back to him. And finally.

“like you.” You say and everything is back to normal. You open your eyes to see an umbrella. You picked it up and looked up at it. It's a normal umbrella. It isn't red. You looked down and saw a hand on top of yours, you screamed and threw the umbrella. You looked around and saw Mr Scarletella looking back at you. “Together.” He says as he is now in front of you. You gulped and took some steps back. You blinked and he's gone, but you feel warm breathing behind you. You felt his hands on your arm as he said again, “Together.”

“W-What?!” You ask and feel his warm breathing on your neck, goosebumps all over your body. “Together.” He says again and you feel small kisses on your neck. You gasp and feel your body heat up. “W-Wait-” you felt his hands start to go all over your body. they'd move from your arms down to your hands and move to your stomach. He'd gently and softly move them up and his hands bumped onto your breast. You softly gasp as his lips meet your neck. “You give.” He says. “You give. Grateful.” He says as he keeps kissing your neck, making you moan. “Grateful.” He whispers on to your neck as his hands move under your shirt.

Oh. You remembered now. The bodies. The things you'd say while killing them. “If someone is here watching, these are all for you.” Oh. “You're returning the favor?” You ask but his hands continue to move higher and his kisses move to your shoulder. You shiver and hold your arms up as the shirt is lifted up to reveal your breast, your nipples hard from being turned on. You should Be scared but…you aren't. You've always been interested in Mr Scarletella. You just never could get close to him or else he will keep asking about your damn name.

And now here he is. His hands cupping your breast as he kissed your neck. Your moan and gasp. You pulled his hands away and he stopped kissing your neck. “Why?” He asks and you turn to look at him. You smiled at him and he gave you his wide smile. “Me like you. You like me?” He asks again. “Me like you.” You say to him as you try to reach up to him. He lowers himself to your height and you cup his face. “You like me.” He says and you nod. He tilts his head to the side as he grins and holds your hand.

“Together.” He says. he moved his hands to cup your breast again, moaning. He knew you were feeling good with the sound you made. The expression on your face. He hummed and looked at you. You were perfect. You may not give him your name, but that can be for later. You were his now. You are his now. No one else's. You are his either way.

He pins you on the floor, straddling you. The floor is so cold against your bare back. You yelp and look up at him who was on top of you, his hands on the floor as he was on top of you, Grinning. His red hair still somehow covered one of his eyes as He looked down at you. You looked at him and tilted your head. “Together.” He says again as he moves his hand to cup your face. His hands are so big compared to yours. He only really only needs one hand to perfectly fit your face. His face got closer To yours, his breathing on your face.

You couldn't help but whimper at how close he Is. You could already feel how wet you were. Your pussy is aching for him already. He grins down and looks down at the clothes you were wearing. He slowly lifted up the coat you had on and pulled your pants with your panties down. You lift your hips up to help him. You continue to look at him as he keeps looking at you. The way he looked at you had your body reacting. And then you asked yourself: He knows what to do already? Maybe he had seen a lot of incidents where people would Go where he is to ya know, just have sex. Or who knows. All you know is he already knows what he is doing.

He looks at you and grins as his fingers rub between your wet pussy lips. You softly gasp and look at his hand. He closed your lips together, making You jump. “Like?” He asks and you nod. He greatly presses his finger to your clit and starts to rub. You open your legs more as he keeps rubbing. He lowers his head as he brings your nipple in his mouth. You whimper and look down at him. He picked and gently bit down on your nipple. “Ouch.” You whine and look up at you. He grins and continues to suck on it.

He brings his hand back up and Teases your other nipple. He starts to rub himself on you. You felt how big he was though his pants already. You gulp and moan.

You suddenly felt something warm and wet rub up and down your clit. You looked down and saw his cock out, rubbing between your folds to get his tip wet with your arousal. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He was still sucking your nipple and It was starting to get sore. You pull his head away and he looks at you. He grins and presses his tip at your cunt. You open your legs a bit more and your hips closer to him. He lifts your hips Up, making you yelp. You looked up at him and he gently pushed Himself in your cunt. “Together.” He says and groans. You rolled your eyes back quickly as you felt how he stretched you out. You moaned and looked at him.

He starts to move his hips as he looks down at how your pussy would suck him in. He brings His thumb to your flit and starts to rub it. You moan and hold on to your hair as he keeps thrusting.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

You were on the cold concert floor, your face on the floor, ass up as Mr Scarletella moved his hips, he was panting fast and groaning as he kept pushing his cock in so deep and fast. “Ah! I can't!” You moan but you knew you wanted more. How many times have you come already? Jesus. He kept making you switch positions every time you came. He First had you laying down as he held your hips up. The next one was you riding him but you soon gave up so he simply grabs your hips and pushes you up and down. He's really strong. He had you laying down again but he held both of your legs just to go deeper inside of you.

Now he has your ass up as he keeps pushing in and out of you. His thrusting became harsher. “Mr Scarletellaaaa- ah! There!” You moan. You could feel how his cock came in and out of you, how warm and wet he felt. You whine and moan as his cock brushes your g-spot. “Together.” He kept saying and moaning. He really loved that word a lot.

You hold onto his hand that was on your hips. You turn to look at him, teary eyes As you moan. You were close again. You needed to cum on his cock again. You whimper and whine as he keeps thrusting into you, this time even faster. You scream and your toes curl as you bury your face on the floor, eyes rolling back as you cum on his cock. You hear him groan and feel something warm dripping out of your pussy.

You pant and whine trying to catch your breath but he quickly makes you turn around and lifts up your right leg. You whine and shake your head. “No-” You say and moan as he pushes his cock in again, slipping in so easily. He buried his face in your neck and groaned. “Together.” He says again and he thrusted. His thrust is a bit slow and more softer now. you wrapped your arms around him as he keeps moving his hips. You could hear a short whine coming from him as you tug at his hair. You whimper and whine. Every thrust Made you so sensitive and feel everything.

Mr Scarletella kisses your neck and whimpers. He's sensitive too. He could feel everything about you. But he just loved that he was finally with you, be with you, be in you. Be together.

A couple of more thrusts and he cums inside of you. He pulls out and pants as he looks down at your pussy that dripped out his cum. He groans and rubs his cum between your folds. He pressed his cock inside your entrance and said, “Together, again…” as he pushed his cock in, making you whine.

Hey @kita-01 and @misaamanekinnie21 , patiently waiting 🫡

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ ﹏ destory me on camera ¡

pairing best friend!rafe x OF creator!reader

summary Rafe finger fucking you for you OF content, not because he's been dying to lay his hands on you, and carress every curve of your body, after only being able to admire such view through the screen. 

contains smut, fingering (obvi), cameras, squirting, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise & degradation, teasing, brief mention of rafe jerking off to your videos, perv rafe...? wc; 2k

a/n this had me insane i needed to do it omff i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it!! bsf rafe is such a whore he needs his own appreciation :p

"Pretty please, Rafe?" Your lips jut into a pout, eyes innocently fluttering up at him. Your hand lightly trailed up his thigh, landing right around his crotch, where his cock was already leaking with pre-cum, desperare to be caressed by your pretty, delicate fingers. "C'mon, you don't want to be mean to your best friend, do you?" 

"You're insane, you know that?" He barely managed to stutter out a breath, arms haunched over the couch, where he was struggling to maintain his position, and hold back from pushing your head down on his cock. 

"Is that a yes?" You excitedly perked up, face mere inches away from Rafe's. You planted a small kiss to his cheek, moving away before he could process the gesture. "Thank you, I'll make sure you won't regret it." 

"Do something before I change my mind, then." He shot back, causing you to shove his arm. A breath knocked out of his chest at the lack of warmness when you moved away to stand to your feet. His gaze followed your figure, halting just around your cleavage, where your boobs laid exposed to the chilly air, barely covered by the sheer, see through top you were wearing.

Rafe's gaze furrowed upon landing on the hand you offered him, hesitating to accpet the touch till you further explained. "You don't think I'm gonna let you fuck me here, do you?" You questioned, sly grin plastering across your lips. Rafe's throat dried at the statement, failing to keep his compusure, and feign nonchalance over whatever the hell stunt you were pulling on him. "Let's go to the room, I already have the camera set up." 

"You do?" He mumbled, letting you drag him towards your room. You nodded, twisting the doorknob open, and revealing the set up you had going on, camera adjusted over the bed, the same view he was used to witnessing through the screen while he secretly got off to your videos. 

"I've got to be prepared," you giggled, letting go of his hand, and throwing yourself on the bed with a thud. You plopped your arms on the bed, crossing your legs seductively, as your skirt rid up your thighs, revealing the plump flesh hidden beneath the material. That alone had Rafe's cock stirring in his pants, desperate to explore your whole body, dive in your pussy till he no longer could coherent normal words out. "Knew you'd agree to this." 

"What made you sure I was gonna agree to this?" He cocked his head to the side, fingers finding your ankle, as he deliberately traced the soft skin, leading all the way to your thighs. You tilted your head back, groping your tits through the fabric, the action immediately earning a grunt out of Rafe. 

"I know my best friend," you shuddered out a breath, tugging the sheer of your top down, causing goosebumps to instantly break out across your chest. "You wouldn't say no to this." 

"Fuck, yeah I won't." He hissed, grasping one of your tits in his hold. He squeezed the fatty flesh, kneading and carressing your nipple in between his fingers, until it was hard and perky. His attention settled in between your thighs, admiring the wet mess he made out of you, a wet patch visible through your lace panties. "While you look fucking great in those, I need them off your body now." 

"Relax, Rafe, I'm not goin' anywhere." You teased, gliding your tongue over your teeth, as you leisurely tugged at the strings of your panties, merely to mess with Rafe, and get a reaction out of him. "Why don't you get the camera rolling first? Then I'll give you what you want." 

"Fuck, how do I start this thing?" Rafe mumbled, pressing random buttons to get the camera started. His gaze fixed on the small lense, gulping at the sight of you practically half naked on the bed. Fuck, you looked surreal, out of world, he wished this wasn't just for content. "Is it on?" 

You nodded upon spotting the little red light, waving him over with your hand. "How are we doin' this?" You asked, shuffling around for Rafe to squeeze himself behind you, quickly relaxing in his arms after he adjusted his position. A yelp almost shrieks past your parted lips as Rafe's hardon brushes over your lower back, clearly as turned on as you were, probably ever more. "Comfortable?" 

"Don't worry about me," he hummed in your ear, bunching your hair to the side, where he could catch glimpse of your figure loose in his hold. He began by toying with the necklace hugging your neck, trailing his hand all the way down to your cleavage. From soothing circles turned into him groping you through the fabric, kneading the skin in his hand, the moans you mewled out like music to his ears. "Moaning like a fucking slut, huh, that feel' good?" 

His name threatened to leave your mouth, washed down by a gasp when his lips brushed over the blade of your shoulder, littering wet, open-mouthed kisses to it as his fingers continuously massaged your tits, immediately releasing them when he tugged the fabric down. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, teeth grazing over his throat, far overwhelmed by the pleasure from the touch. 

"You gonna let me fuck you in front of that camera?" Rafe whispered, mostly to you, dragging his hand down your lower stomach, past the waistband of your skirt. He pushed it up your waist, gaze settling on the camera lense as he fingered at your panties, sliding then beneath the fabric, as he toyed with it back and forth, the action teasing, causing you to arch your back. "Such a desperate slut, aren't you? Dying for my fingers to fuck your needy pussy." 

"Mhm," you nodded, lips pressing into a thin line to contain your whines from scooping out, not wanting to come off needy, though your body language spoke otherwise. "Fuck me, please, destroy me on camera for everyone to see, 'want your fingers inside me." 

Using the arm wrapped around your waist, Rafe pressed you down as he managed to slide the lace panties off, the action casual, yet deliberate, oblivious to your fucked-out state, and the mess he created out of you. 

He almost chuckled, amused by the ragged whine that escaped your throat, lips parting with awe, as Rafe glides his digits up and down your folds, fingering at your sensitive clit, making you squirm in his arms. It felt heavenly, most times, you had to fake your reaction for content, but with Rafe? It came flawlessly, his fingers worked magic. 

He traced your hole with the tip of his long digits, collecting your juices in the process of sliding his fingers up and down your hole, until your cunt was drenched with your arousal. 

Pride swelled his chest, knowing he was the cause of this, as well as the whines you kept letting out, far too gone to acknowledge the camera yet rolling. Rafe used your parted lips as an opportunity to slip his fingers inside, taking in the sensation of your hot spit gliding over the digits, desperately licking off your juices clean. 

A groan knocks out Rafe's mouth, as his fingers exit your mouth with a pop, the sound causing him to twitch in his pants. He was rock hard, it was starting to hurt, he could not wait to get off while remincing over your little moans that displayed how eager you were to have him, feeding into his sick fantasies. 

"So good with your fingers," you praised, encouraging him to continue rubbing circles to your clit, flicking the nub over and over again, till your cunt was slick with (your) spit. 

"Such a fucking whore." He murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His attention fixed on your cunt, hole gripping around nothing, and leaking with your juices. Turned on was underestimating how Rafe felt in the moment, heat pooling past his neck, until it settled on his face, tinting his cheeks a deep shade of red. 

"Fuckkk..." You trailed off, fluttering your lashes through hooded eyes. Your body jerked as Rafe spread your folds with his fingers, revealing your glistening nub, coated with a glossy layer. "You like playing with your best friend's pussy baby?" 

Rafe palmed your cunt at the statement, the gesture spiraling a wave of pleasure through your insides. Rafe's grunts were barely audible, though they were loud and clear like music to your ears, only for you to hear and enjoy. 

The latter eventually decided to quit teasing you and line his fingers with your entrance, tracing them up and down, only inserting the tip of his digits to test you. You whined in protest, wiggling for a fraction, anything to help with your pent up sexual frustration, one only Rafe, your best friend could relieve. 

He easily slid a finger inside, immediately engulfed with the warmness of your cunt, as you clenched around him, growing blinded by pleasure. He moved slowly; with a purpose, exploring each and every inch of you, afraid he'd miss out if he didn't pay you enough attention. 

"Such a pathetic doll, letting your best friend ruin your pussy with his fingers." He grunted, fastening his pace, and lining his other finger with your hole. 

"Yes yes yes yesss," you threw your head back,

as Rafe inserted another finger inside you, pumping them in and out of your hole, till you got used to his digits stretched you out. "Fuck me, please, 'wish it was your cock instead!" 

"Bet you do," he heaved out a breath, scissoring his fingers inside you to explore every corner. "You'd like that, huh? Wanna fuck you dumb like a pathetic lil slut." 

Rafe continued fucking you with his fingers, main focus on your face as it twisted with pleasure. His calloused digits repeatedly moved inside you, hitting your sweet spot in the process, and causing desire to spiral through your insides, coating every blood vessel and vein. 

"You like fuckin' me like this?" You questioned through a whine, littering kisses to the curve of Rafe's jaw. "Much better than jerking off to my videos, don't you think?" 

Fuck, you knew. 

You chuckled when you recieved no response from the latter, a mere whimper as he thrusted his fingers inside your hole, rather pleased with himself, hoping this was your actual reaction, and not just for content. 

"Come on my fingers," he demanded, request filthy,

something he fantasized about in the dim of the night. "I know you're close." 

He was right, in the span of seconds, your climax built up, indicating you were close everytime Rafe would apply pressure, or use his thumb to rub your clit, spiking more and more heat through your body. 

Your orgasm reached its peak, coming hard as you squirted all over Rafe's fingers, with Rafe riding his digits through your orgasm, not stopping even when your legs trembled as you came down from your high. 

Rafe's fingers dripped with your sweet arousal, liquid tracing along the veins kissing up his arms. The sight alone had him a fucking mess, you dare make it worse when you bring his fingers to your lips, and suck his fingers clean. 

The latter observed in awe, spit pooling in his mouth, as desire fogged his vision, eager to get a taste of your lips now glossed with your arousal. 

A grin formed on your lips, quickly closing the distance seperating you in a chaste kiss, one breaking the boundaies you built for your friendship. Rafe's lips moved desperately over yours, licking into your mouth for the mere purpose of tasting you. 

That didn't last long, interrupted when you inched back, just enough to whisper out your next words. "Pizza?" 

"What?" Rafe's caught off gaurd by the question, too sudden for him to process it. 

"Should we get pizza?" You asked, sitting up straight. "I'm hungry." 

"Did we not jus–" 

"That was for content!" You reasoned, face immediately growing hot. "It's done now, take care of your business and come on out, you drained me out, I'll help you out next time." 

"There's a next time?" He nearly choked on his own spit. 

"Only if you're up for it..." You shot back, searching for a reaction out of the latter. 

Up for it? Screw that, he'd fuck you right now if he could. 

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.

[gojoshooter]

HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU

tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies

Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.

Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.

Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.

Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.

“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”

At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.

“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”

Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”

Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”

Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”

Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.

As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”

Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.

Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.

“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”

Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.

Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.

“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.

an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts

[honeyedfate]

i'll be here when you're back | 이희승

pairing. lee heeseung x gf!reader

ever since his room was revealed to the world on mbc world, heeseung has not known peace—whether it be from engenes or his very own girlfriend

genre. fluff (they're making out? it's cute)

a/n. it's been months but heeseung's room still gives me the giggles. the title doesn't have anything to do with the fic except that it's the song i was listening to while writing it lol it fits the vibes? (don't ask me what the lyrics are) enjoy x

"what's so funny?" you look up to heeseung turning in his gaming chair, glancing over his shoulder at you with a curious smile, his headphones resting around his neck.

you wave him off, still giggling. "you wouldn't like it."

he cocks his head, standing up. "what do you mean? i always find the stuff you show me funny. we share the same brain cell."

"this is different," you say, scooching over so heeseung can join you on the floor with his back against his bedframe. "no, wait—"

heeseung has your phone in his hands before you can stop him. he swiftly leans back, holding out his arm to keep you away while typing in your password. the phone unlocks to a paused tiktok video of what he immediately recognises as his room.

"why are you watching this?" he glances at you with a sideways grin as you make to grab for your phone again only for him to lean back more and hold his phone above his head. "babe, you're in my room, you don't need to—wait, were you reading the comments again?"

"don't close the app," you plead at his narrowed eyes, practically lying on top of him now that he's fully horizontal. "i don't want to lose my spot in the comments."

heeseung scoffs and shuts off your phone. "it's not that funny, you know."

"oh, but it is."

he lets out a mock gasp. "people making fun of your boyfriend's interior design choices is funny to you? wow, my girlfriend hates me. i knew it."

you snort in his face. "hee, what choices? i saw the video. that singular shoe is not an artistic choice. we both know you've been looking for the other one since march."

he looks to his left, staring at the shoe that's still very much sitting on top of the box it came with. "i wonder if it's having fun and eating well wherever it is in the world," he mumbles wistfully.

you poke his cheek. "can i have my phone back?"

"so you can laugh at me with people on the internet? absolutely not. i'd rather you just make fun of me the old fashioned way—throw tomatoes in my face, pin a note on my back, shove me into a corner and point a finger at me. at least that'll make me feel like i have some dignity left."

you break into laughter. "i would love to, honestly, but the only thing you guys have in the kitchen is ramen. i don't want to break your pretty face with hard noodles, plus it'll probably echo so loud in here, the neighbours will think there's a shooting."

"oh, so you're a comedian now," heeseung says in a mockingly sweet tone before his hands attack your sides without warning. you're squirming as uncontrollable giggles take over, leaving you gasping helplessly while begging for him to stop.

finally, he pulls back when you manage to grab his wrists, holding them in place as you catch your breath. his grin softens. "truce?" he asks, voice low and teasing.

you nod, deflating on his chest while he tightens his arm around your waist to keep you close. "you're the worst," you say into the fabric of his sweater.

heeseung chuckles. "says the one giggling for ten minutes straight over comments teasing her boyfriend."

"i wasn't laughing that hard."

"right," he says with a drawling lilt in his voice. "when i heard you through my headphones, i thought, 'which dude is making you laugh like that under my roof?' only to find out it's engenes. it's an even crueler fate, if you ask me."

you shrug one shoulder, looking away nonchalantly when his gaze drops to your lips. "you'd agree if you read them. someone said, 'this gotta be solitary confinement.' you have to admit, that's funny! i have the right to laugh at their brilliance."

he stares at you blankly. "how is this solitary confinement when you're on top of me?"

"i'm not always here," you reply, raising an eyebrow. "someone else said you're evacuation ready. all you have to do is pick up those keyboards over there and walk out."

the slightest twitch in the corner of his lips spurs you on to keep going. "there was another comment saying you put the room in bedroom."

"okay, get off," heeseung says flatly while making no move to push you off. "that one's not even funny."

"maybe not." you glance at all the free space next to you. "but you could get a rug, babe."

he groans, tipping his head back and exposing the smooth stretch of his throat to you. of course, you lean up and press a brief kiss on his adam's apple. he looks down at you, smiling almost shyly before he shakes his head. "you're cute. but we're not having that conversation again."

pouting, you gesture around you. "you always say you don't spend enough time in your room to bother putting anything in it, but admit it—you were happy when we got that bin from daiso."

heeseung snorts and bobs your nose. "yes, i'm the happiest man alive. every day i wake up and i thank god that i have a girlfriend and a rubbish bin."

"see!" you ignore the amused look on his face and lay your head on his chest. the tension in your shoulders melts the moment you hear the familiar beat of his heart against your ear. "think about how much happier you would be when your room no longer looks like belift uses it for enhypen's dance practices."

he chuckles softly while running his fingers through your hair. "i've seen that one. someone commented that my room could fit the backup dancers, too."

you laugh. "it could."

comfortable silence wraps around you like a warm blanket, neither feeling the need to speak. you eventually lift your head to glance at him, lips curving into a smile when you see that his eyes are closed. you lean down and place a delicate kiss on his lips, light and fleeting, but enough to leave him grinning.

you repeat your action, your lips brushing his in the faintest touch only to feel him kiss you back, so gently it seems like a secret. you pull back when you heeseung's tongue traces your lower lip. his eyes flutter open, a silent question mark reflected in his dark eyes when you don't kiss him again. you tilt your head, mischief glinting in your gaze.

"hee?" you say quietly and he blinks up at you with large, doe-like eyes.

"hm?" he looks ridiculously soft and vulnerable lying underneath you like that. it almost has you changing your mind, but you love a good set-up.

"did you know engenes call you bitchless?"

you let out a surprised laugh when he flips you over. in the blink of an eye, he has you pinned beneath him and his lips are on you, peppering your face with tiny pecks, leaving behind a trail of laughter from you.

you try to push him away by the chest, but heeseung is relentless, placing kiss after kiss on your cheeks, the corner of your lips, your forehead, your jaw. you can feel him smile against your skin and you can't help but giggle deliriously. "what are you doing?"

"proving them wrong," he says while nibbling on the sensitive spot behind your ear, working his way down to the curve where your neck and collarbone meet. "obviously."

"obviously," you mumble back, selfishly enjoying the feeling of his lips on you. heeseung slowly lifts you up, somehow moving you onto the bed and laying your head on his pillow. his warm hand slips under your shirt, happy to roam your skin aimlessly while he kisses you dumb. there's nothing but heeseung on your mind, just him and the muffled groans leaving his lips when you pull on his hair while his knee rests between your legs.

then, the door falls open with a bang and you nearly push him off the bed.

"oh my god, sorry!"

heeseung flails, comically wide-eyed, and whips around to yell at whoever's at the door. you look past him to see riki standing with his back to the room, spewing incoherent apologies while his neck flushes bright red.

you pat your boyfriend's shoulder to catch his attention, silently shooting him a look when he frowns at you, lips pulled in a pout. smiling, you peck them one last time before pushing him aside to lie beside you. "riki, you can turn around."

the younger boy does, looking incredibly sheepish. "sorry for barging in. i didn't know y/n was here."

"it's fine," you say reassuringly. "don't worry about it."

"knock next time," heeseung grumbles before he pulls you up to sit beside him with a sigh. "what's up?"

riki rubs the back of his neck. "i'm going to the department store to get some stuff for my room, just wanted to see if you wanted to come along." in a quieter tone he adds, "the others are busy."

"so was i," heeseung mumbles and you smack him upside the head. gently, of course.

"he's going," you say to riki. "can i come with?"

"yeah, of course!" his face brightens up instantly. "i'll order the taxi, meet me downstairs in five!"

"wait, ni-ki—" heeseung hastily jumps up, but the boy has already left and closed the door behind him, leaving him to stare at it like he's just been bereft of every shred of joy and peace he's ever known. he turns to you with an exasperated look on his face. "seriously? to get things for his room? you planned this."

you shake your head, rising to your knees to be more at his eye level while doing a horrible job at suppressing your giggles. "i wish i did, but the joke wrote itself. now go put on some pants. he said downstairs in five."

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick it Spit It

Billie Eilish x female reader

A/n: I don't think I need to say anything here lovelies, enjoy !!

Summary: Billie is excited to show you this new song shes featured in, reciting her lyrics to you. Until she's recreating them on you.

Warnings: smut, mdni ! Spit ?? Eating out, strap usage, orgasm denial, squirting !! Think that's it <3

Masterlist ... extra ;)

"Babyyy."

You hear your girlfriend say, coming into the bedroom you both shared. She had her phone in hand, obviously about to show you something.

"Everything alright?" You ask setting your book down. It was currently 7 pm, she had been in the small studio downstairs. Working away on something. "More than alright. I want to show you what I have so far on this remix I'm doing." You smile at her as she sits beside you on the bed, excited to hear this. You always loved listening to the songs she'd make or was in. And you were so incredibly proud that this was going to be with another big star.

'Don’t have to guess the color of your underwear

Already know what you’ve got goin’ on down there'

She chants and you smile just enjoying listening to the lyrics.

'It’s that lacy black pair with the little bows'

That reminds you of a pair you own.

Wait...

'The ones I picked out for you in Tokyo'

Now she has your full attention. Sure you were listening to the lyrics beforehand, but now you're really listening. Her eyes were still on her phone, reading off the lyrics. Until her eyes met yours.

'I saw them when you sat down, they were peekin’ out'

Did she really write this about you? You had a pair of underwear exactly like the one she's talking about, you wore them alot actually. They were your favorite. Especially when she mentioned Tokyo. That was incredibly specific as that's where the pair was from. She had bought them for you as a gift when you traveled there for your birthday last year. Both yours and Billies eyes lock onto one another's. But she didn't stop there, keeping that eye contact alive.

'I'm gonna tell you right now, they're all I'm thinkin' about'

"True." She then whispers. Your brows furrow, feeling nervous at the insanity of this moment. Her eyes bore into your own, making you shift a little bit. Your eyes avert her lustful ones.

'I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it. Pull it to the side and get all up in it'

You hadn't even realized she sat her phone down on her bedside table, and was inching closer to your body. "You wanna guess who that song is about." She speaks softly into your ear. You gulp, her voice delicate. Holding such filth at the same time. You don't answer for a second, trying to gain your composure. "Me....?" You question. She only smirks and let's out a small hum. Her body moves to hover over your own, instantly leaning down to kiss you. "I saw a photo of you on my phone from a year ago today. And that's what inspired me." She mumbles against the skin of your neck, as her kisses move all over the place. "Your crossed legs, in that skirt." You swallow thickly. Remembering that photo. You had your arms up in the air, sitting on a random beautiful fountain.

"That's why I mentioned how the straps were peaking out.. those baby pink bows." She bites down on your neck, making a gasp escape your lips. Your eyes shut in instinct as she continues on. "'Kiss it, bite it, can I fit it?'" The only thing you manage to get out was. "Fuck me."

She glady took that offer. Making her way down your body, getting to her destination. She pulls the pair to the side. "Wish it was the black ones." She trails off, slowly revealing your wet, sticky folds to her. Her eyes becoming drowsy, full of desire for you. She bit her lips slightly, grabbing the underwear by the top. And pulling them down, off your body, discarding them somewhere. Her favorite thing, on display for her. She had to admire for a little bit. But that just made you grow impatient. "Billie-" "shhh." She says, as her finger comes close to your puffy heat. She then quickly licks a small stripe up the middle, before she pulls back contemplating.

She spits directly onto your cunt, letting it slide down slightly. The big bit of saliva staying there for a second, before her face is directly infront of it. Her tongue sticks out and straight into your weeping, aching hole. Pushing the spit inside you. She pulls back to look at the mixture of wetness. And she did both. She managed to get you that wet. It was her spit now deep inside you. God she was proud at the thought. However she wasn't even done with penetrating your pussy. Her face is back in its original spot. Her lips make contact with your own, sending your head back into the pillows. Your hands eventually move to her silky hair, gripping as she speeds up her pace, her tongue entering you also.

It all felt amazing, when she does something unexpected. Her teeth sink into the lip of your pussy, biting and sucking all at once. It felt incredible. Why hadn't she done that sooner. "Bil.." You breathe, moaning on and off. "Feels so, good." You blab, still having your eyes shut. Feeling her lips move into her famous smirk, knowing that boosted her ego entirely. Your high was approaching and fast.

"Nooo." You then huff. Feeling her tongue move from you. Looking down at your fucked out body. Her smirk is ofcourse still visible at your little frustrated pout. "You're so annoying." You breathe, sinking into the sheets again.

"You won't be saying that in a second." Your head shot up again to look at her, but as soon as you do that a loud moan is being ripped out of you. How the hell did this woman put her strap on so quickly. She really wasn't kidding when she said 'in a second.' Impressive. A little hot in a way. Your mind turns into mush though, almost her whole length inside of you. "Had to get you worked open babe, yet you're still so tight." Another moan was to be heard, letting your eyes flutter close again, back instantly arching. Only thing visible in your brain are the lyrics to that song, and how she's recreating them all. "Guess I can fit it huh?" She then says, coming close to your face. "Speak." She orders you like a dog, when you don't respond.

"Y-yes.. feel so full." Her smirk returns to her face, picking up the speed. "Good. Just how it should." You let out another gasp again, feeling her thumb playing with your clit. This makes her chuckle, maliciously. She continues to fuck you relentlessly, beginning to let her hands roam over your skin, she pushes the baggy t-shirt you were wearing up, exposing your tits. They move in time with her thrusts. Her mind overflows with every disgusting but amazing fantasy. Your breath hitches as you feel cool metal on your breasts, looking to see her hands kneading them. How well they fit in her hands as she squished.

As her fingers move while doing so, you feel that same cold metal on your nipple making a shakey, content sigh leave you. It eventually turning into a moan as she squeezes again. She comes down to your face, your eyes were closed. "Look at me." She speaks, grabbing your jaw. You immediately open your eyes looking at her dark ones, which was always such a shock as they are so bright. Her face inches down towards your ear, she gives it a soft kiss before she's whispering. "Wanna make you squirt." Your eyes widen tremendously. If you weren't flustered before you really are now.

As you go to respond it was cut short, her thumb resumed on your clit, her thrusts are deeper, her ring covered fingers gripping your jaw. Her lips on your neck only adding to that, as she used the fuck out of you. You feel it coming, that tight knot. But you didn't have to say a word. She knew. She could feel it. It getting slightly harder for her at the way you're tightening, but that was a challenge she wanted to conquer. Obviously succeeding, she hits that gummy spot inside you, sending your mouth to fly open. "B-bil-" Yet another gasp was being pulled from you, it being loud in her ear as she continues to fuck the shit out of you.

Her pace never falters. Her thumb even speeding up as she sucks and bites your neck. You wanted to tell her you were close, as if she didn't already know. Your hands make their way to her arms, gripping as it's coming faster. "Fuck!" You screech out, you couldn't hold it any longer releasing within an instant, feeling her smirk into your neck. "And boom." She says into your ear, her voice husky. You hadn't even noticed it, but she actually did make you squirt. Your fucked out expression gives billie all she needs to know.

"Guess I'm just, that. good."

[katebishopsbaefy]

No Thinking

billie eilish x reader

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.

warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying

words: 1163

a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard of💩 but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???

Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you’ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.

You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.

You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.

When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach. 

“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.

She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”

You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself…but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”

But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl… lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.

Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.

She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.

“Aw, baby…”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself… have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”

 Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.

Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.

“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel. 

When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.

“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed…”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.

She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.

And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.

She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.

Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.

“Mmm… now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan. 

“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.

Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.

[multicohn]

summary: the rookies notice that their partner is missing from an important race and immediately thinks the worst

warnings: this took me DAYS to do 💀 some might be longer than others but keep in mind that i do like all the rookies and some were just easier to write for — ooc? since i don't know them that well, some might have similar situations but i tried to not have them as the same scenario — missing or misspelled words maybe? i might have missed it cause this is quite long — drivers wanting to die / thinking their s/o died ( jokingly ) — death jokes in general — just the rookies being dramatic and thinking the worse

pairing(s): gn! reader x jack doohan, gn! reader x isack hadjar, gn! reader x ollie bearman, gn! reader x kimi antonelli, gn! reader x gabriel bortoleto ( all written separately )

genre: fluff, dramtic drivers, established relationships

author note: lawson and alonso are not included

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

jack doohan - australian grand prix

the first race of the season would be in jack’s home country. he felt excited, but also very nervous. jack wanted to prove that he deserves to be a main driver and that he can pull in results. sure, it’s only the first race, but if he doesn’t prove that he deserved that seat, he’ll be dropped quick.

jack bit his nails as he stood in the garage. he made it into the second round of qualifying, but was easily knocked down the longer it went.

was he upset? yes, but y/n made him see that it wasn't his fault.

now, however, jack hasn't seen y/n since that morning.

he's aware that they're most likely with pierre's girlfriend, kika, but they haven't answered any of his texts either. pierre wasn't worried, use to kika not coming until a few minutes before he had get in the car or she just came and go.

jack wasn't use to it though. y/n normally popped in to see him or at least texted him back.

did their phone die? break? is franco trying to steal them before stealing his seat? ARE THEY BEING THREATENED BY ESHAY'S?

"jack"

nevermind.

“y/n!” jack shouted in relief as they walked towards him

“sorry” they quickly kissed his cheek as kika walked away to do the same with pierre

“kika’s heel broke so we had to go get her a new pair of shoes and my phone went flat”

jack breathed out a sigh of relief before engulfing their partner in a hug.

"i thought i was going to die" y/n rolled their eyes

"i've always made it on time”

“yeah, well, i thought franco was trying something or that you were being threatened by an eshay” y/n nodded while trying not to laugh at the thought of jack thinking an eshay was trying to have a go at them

“i’ll make sure to remember to bring my portable” jack pouted at their words

“no. you’re not allowed to leave me at all on race days”

“what if i need to go toilet?"

"i'll stand outside"

"you can not be serious..."

jack placed his hands on their shoulders and stared right into their eyes.

"dead serious" y/n scoffed and started swatting him away.

"get in the car!"

"you haven't given me a good luck kiss yet!"

"you aren't getting one!"

"oh so you want me to crash?"

"jack!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

isack hadjar - japanese grand prix

the sound of someone texting him made isack momentarily snap out of his trance and look down. a smile creeped onto his face as the familiar contact name of his partner sat at the top, but it slowly washed off his face as he read through their messages.

loml <3: baby im here!

loml <3: there’s lots of people

loml <3: they have ( favourite food )!

loml <3: hey so…

loml <3: i think im lost.

they hadn't been at the previous races due to conflicts with their own personal schedule, but had reassured him that they would be able to make it for this race and would be by his side for bahrain as well. isack had cheered when they revealed the news after friday's practice sessions ended.

y/n had landed a few hours ago, but isack was already making his way to the track when they did ( he had been dragged and strapped into the car by his manager because isack tried to run off to the airport ).

“isack?” his trainer knocked on the door and called out to him before opening it

“you good, mate?” isack only stared at his phone, his race suit still hanging around his waist

isack took a deep breath in and spun around.

his trainer blinked as he brushed past him, determination obvious. however, isack was walking away from the garage.

"wha — isack?! that's the wrong way!"

"no it isn't!"

the trainer quickly caught up to him and grabbed hold of isack's shoulder. the driver turned around, his determination had slipped and fear seemed to have consumed isack.

“what’s wrong?”

“my partner got lost"

"oh, well..." his trainer had no clue on how to comfort the driver who was trying to pull himself away

"at least they're here?" isack whipped around so fast that it startled his trainer

"that doesn't matter! they aren't with me! i can't race knowing they're not here waiting for me! what if they fell into a ditch and died or something!?"

he watched as his trainer opened his mouth to reply, but it fell on deaf ears as isack caught sight of y/n. he sprinted towards the garage, leaving his baffled trainer.

"y/n!" they didn't even have a chance to turn around before they felt isack crashing into their back, his arms tightly secured around them.

"i thought you fell into a ditch and died or something" y/n turned their head to stare at isack with an offended expression

"why was that your first thought?" isack didn't answer and continued to squeeze them tightly

( his trainer literally had to pull and carry him away from y/n so that he would get in the car )

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ollie bearman - british grand prix

despite their relationship still being relatively new, ollie found himself having "withdrawals" as kimi called it. he felt weird and itchy when y/n wasn’t by his side, but when they were ollie would just aimlessly follow them around. fans thought it was cute and started comparing him to a dog more than a bear.

however, ollie received devasting news on the day of the british grand prix.

they would be late.

ollie thought then and there that he should just die.

the young driver arrived at the paddock with sadness beneath his fake smile. he raced towards the garage, only gave short answers to those who questioned him about something or rushing through with signing something, barely having time for pictures. ollie didn't meant to come off as rude, but he really just wanted to curl up in his drivers room and wait for them, but he couldn't.

esteban who was hit with a sense of boredom wondered why he couldn't hear his teammate's usual chatter and when he peeked around the corner, all he saw is a pouting ollie.

"ollie? what's wrong?"

he mumbled an answer, but due to all the noise, esteban didn't hear a thing.

"what?" ollie huffed as he leaned closer to hear

"my partner isn't here"

he crossed his arms with an irritated expression while esteban glanced over at ollie's team who were all collectively ignoring the upset driver.

"they told me they were going to be late, but i didn't think it would be this late! what if they got into a car accident?!" he only had a few more minutes to spare before they would start forcing him into the car

esteban only nodded along as ollie continued to think the worse — he's certain he heard something about an alien abduction. the younger driver didn't even notice that his teammate had left halfway through until he spun around to see a tired looking y/n just walking in.

if ollie was a dog, his ears would’ve perked up and tail would be wagging.

“y/n!” he cheered before jumping them

thankfully, ollie had enough strength as to not let them fall over.

“ollie, you’re heavy, i can't breathe”

"you wouldn't be talking if you couldn't breathe" they groaned lightly as he pressed their bodies together

“why are you so late?”

“traffic”

“you should’ve ran” y/n scoffed

“yeah, don’t think so” ollie lifted his head from their ( neck / shoulder / chest — depends on height )

“do you… not love me enough?” his eyes widened at the thought while y/n stared silently at him, but that just made ollie grow even more nervous

“why aren’t you saying anything? do not love me anymore?!”

“ollie. get in the damn car”

“and now you’re trying to get rid of me?! y/n, i will cry”

“i don’t think your team will let me near you if you do”

“i’ll kill myself”

“ollie!”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

kimi antonelli - italian grand prix

kimi dislikes the word “possessive”. he isn’t possessive, he just doesn’t trust anyone around partner so they should stay by his side until he’s in the car and then stay beside someone he trusts while he races. that person was george’s girlfriend — carmen, but kimi’s hasn’t been liking her recently since she always stole them away.

y/n is HIS partner. how dare she keep them away from him.

carmen would pop up out of nowhere and take y/n away while george held him back from chasing them down. his partner would be returned before he had to get in the car, but that didn't matter to kimi, y/n should be with him the entire time unless they aren't allowed ( like meetings, but he was able to convince toto to let them in ).

kimi impatiently tapped his foot while george hummed to himself. he didn't speak, but kimi knew the older man was amused by the situation. would it be bad if he took george out right now? toto does favour him and valtteri is here, so it should be fine, right?

an evil glint sparkled in kimi's eyes that george was unaware of since his back was now turned.

"it's his fault for letting his girlfriend take away my partner" kimi nodded to himself as he glared at the taller man

however, he never got to initiate his plan.

"kimi"

"my purpose in life has been restored"

he sprinted towards his partner and snatched them away from carmen ( yes, kimi did glare at her, but she only laughed before going to george ).

“i hate when she does that” he scoffed before wrapping them in a tight squeeze

y/n wondered if their boyfriend was a snake in his past life by the way he hugged them.

“we just lost track of time” they managed to say, but kimi wasn’t having any of it

“you were almost late. i’m going to tie us together whenever she comes”

“you still have ten minutes”

“it would’ve been a hour, but noooo” y/n laughed and kimi finally loosened his hold on them

“sorry, sorry, i know important this race is to you” they threaded their fingers through his hair before pressing a quick kiss to kimi’s cheek

“is that all?”

“you got to put the rest of your stuff on”

“i’ll put it on when you kiss me properly”

“everyone’s looking…”

“y/n. i will not get into that car unless you kiss me”

they felt toto turn towards them and they cursed kimi quietly before pressing their lips to his.

kimi smiled happily and skipped off to put on the rest of his race gear.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

gabriel bortoleto - brazilian grand prix

this particular race weekend had been a huge deal for gabi and y/n is well aware of it. the driver felt bad about not being able to spend much time with their partner, but y/n understood and was able to keep themselves entertained without gabi.

“where are they?” he tapped his foot impatiently while staring at the empty hallway

practice and qualifying has gone well, the crowd went absolutely wild when he managed to push the car to p6, but then a few other drivers managed to get better times and that knocked him down to p10. gabi wasn’t upset about that though, what he is upset about is how his partner has seemingly disappeared the moment they arrived at the track.

sure, gabi does blame himself since he was instantly swept up with journalists and fans that seemed to increase every time someone left. y/n had given him a quick kiss before making their way to the sauber hospitality. gabi didn’t get to check in on them, at least physically, since he had a meeting and other duties to attend to before changing into his race suit. gabi didn’t think anything of it; they might have gone to get food or needed the bathroom.

but, this long? something must have happened.

he didn’t want to think the worst, but he couldn’t help it.

“how likely do you think someone here would be a kidnapper?” nico slowly turned towards gabi who stared at the wall, no thoughts seemingly behind the younger driver’s eyes

“what?” gabi blinked

“nothing” he tried to brush it off, but nico wasn’t having it

gabi sighed and started explain.

“maybe they ate something bad? or lost track of time?”

yeah, that seemed more reasonable than them being lured away and stuffed into a random van.

gabi thanked nico before wondering off back to his side of the garage.

"it's fine. maybe they did eat something bad or didn't realise how close the start time is — it's happened before..." he sighed and crossed his arms before closing his eyes

gabi drowned out the noise and envisioned himself on the track. it calmed his mind, but only slightly.

he didn't know much time had passed since he entered his own head, but gabi instantly recongised y/n the moment they were close enough. they always wear a certain ( perfume / cologne / spray, etc ) that gabi is all too familiar with, it helped that y/n is the only person he knows to wear it.

their arms wrapped around his ( waist / mid-section / shoulders ) and gabi opened his eyes and turned around.

"where were you?"

"i think i ate something weird"

a sigh slipped past his lips while his shoulders sunk in relief.

"at least weren't lured to a van and almost kidnapped"

"what?" gabi shook his head

"don't worry about it"

he pressed a soft kiss to their ( neck / cheek / forehead ) before walking away to grab his helmet. y/n stared at their boyfriend's back, confusion washing over them as they replied his words in their head.

"by the way..." with his helmet now in his hands, gabi walked back over to stand in front of them

"i'm going to handcuff us together if you leave like that again"

"gabi —" he cut them off with a kiss on the lips before quickly making his way to his car while putting on his helmet

y/n only sighed and rubbed their forehead.

[ptergwen]

Hi there, I'm SO HAPPY YOUR BACK! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Tom Holland Peter Parker x fem Stark reader based on this prompt?: You’re unconscious after a mission gone wrong, and Peter’s voice shakes as he desperately calls your name, when Tony comes. If you don't want to do it, its ok

stay

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w/c: 2,005

warnings: mentions of blood, angst (happy ending!)

a/n: hi lovely thank you sm! you guys know i love my angst so i felt very in my element with this one hehe, thanks for the patience while i get used to writing again! feel free to keep sending in your reqs and chatting, i love hearing from y'all and will answer asap ♡

"y/n? it's over, i got him. i’ll come find you, okay?"

you don't answer.

"y/n/n? can you hear me?"

there's only silence on peter's end of the headset. peter isn't worried, not at first. he figures maybe you just got disconnected.

"y/n?"

nothing.

now that peter hasn't heard from you on the third try, he is starting to worry. the two of you had gotten separated during your mission. the plan was for you to distract your opponent and peter to web him up, but you lost him somewhere along the way. it was hard to stick together in the dark, twisty tunnels. he'd thought it would be best to take care of your opponent himself and find you after.

tony is going to kill him if he let anything happen to you. it's okay, though. he can just use his suit to track your location.

"friday?"

"yes, peter?"

"take me to y/n."

peter swings through the tunnels to get to you faster. friday guides him, which he's grateful for because he doesn't have a great sense of navigation as is. it's even more difficult underground. peter lands where friday tells him to, but he doesn't see you.

"are you sure this is where she is? i think she might've lost connection... maybe her location didn't update."

"y/n's watch is online, peter."

peter notices something on the ground, its blinking light catching his attention. he picks it up. sure enough, it's your stark tech watch, but where are you?

"would you like me to check again?"

peter makes out a figure a few feet away. it isn't moving. he takes a few steps toward the figure, reaching for his mask.

"that's okay. thanks, friday."

he removes his mask to see better, brows knitting together. something doesn't feel right. peter's senses confirm it, the hairs on his arms standing up and eyes focusing harder in the darkness. in peter's head, he already knows it's you. in his heart, he hopes it isn't.

peter crouches down and puts a hand on the figure's shoulder, rolling them over to face him.

it's you.

your spandex suit has some rips in it, and dirt is coating your back. your mask is pulled up part of the way. peter takes it off, revealing blood dripping down your forehead, your eyes just barely open. tears roll down your cheeks. peter cups your face tenderly in his hands, eyes desperately searching for yours.

"oh my god, baby, what happened?"

"that guy."

your voice comes out weak. despite the blood and tears staining his gloved fingers and the tightening in his throat, peter does his best to stay calm.

"what guy? the one we were fighting?"

"yeah."

"he did this to you?"

you hum in response. peter props an arm behind your head for support.

"it's okay. everything's gonna be okay."

"but... it hurts."

"i know, baby. but you're gonna be okay. we're gonna get you home and..."

your eyes flutter closed.

"hey, hey, hey. look at me."

peter strokes your cheek, willing you to stay awake. you grunt.

"tell me where it hurts so i can take a look. can you do that for me, y/n? where does it hurt?"

"my head. on top."

peter carefully parts your hair, searching for the source of your bleeding. there's a damp patch of hair near the top of your head. he moves it aside and finds a gash. it's small, but fairly deep. he doesn't think he can handle this on his own; he needs to tell tony.

"i’m gonna call your dad, okay?"

you don't respond. your eyes are closed when peter looks for them.

"y/n? you have to stay awake."

you don't say or do anything to indicate that you hear him. tears prick peter's eyes, threatening to spill over. he doesn't know much about head injuries, but he knows this isn't good.

"please wake up, y/n/n."

peter grabs both your shoulders and shakes, hard enough that it should wake you. nothing. you seem to have slipped into some sort of an unconscious state.

your watch starts to beep with an incoming call from your dad. peter accepts it with a shaking hand.

"friday tells me your vitals are suspiciously low, little lady. what's going on?"

peter fights to keep his tears at bay. he cradles your head with one hand, placing his other on your heart. he needs to feel your heartbeat to remind himself you're still here.

"it's me, tony."

"kid? where's y/n?"

a quiet sob escapes him, tears finally falling. tony doesn't need to hear anything else.

"i’m on my way."

it doesn't take long for tony to get to you and peter. he comes whirring through the tunnels, retracting his iron man suit when he lands. you lie on the ground, your head in peter's lap. you'd woken up shortly after peter spoke to your dad, but you aren't really responsive. peter is cradling your head gently in both hands and whispering words of reassurance.

he's so focused on you that he doesn't even notice tony is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"what happened, kid?"

tony kneels down next to peter.

"i... i don't know. the guy we were fighting... i didn't see, i think she hit her head."

"okay, okay. let me see the damage."

tony uses his watch to illuminate the dark area. there's dry blood all around the crown of your head, in your hair. it's worse than he expected. he doesn't let it show, though. he doesn't want to alarm you any more than you already are, or peter for that matter; he's a mess.

"i found this."

peter moves your hair to show your dad the wound on your head. tony shines the light on you to get a better look. concern flashes in his eyes briefly, but long enough for peter to see it.

"friday, call the med bay. tell them it's my daughter."

"yes, boss. it appears y/n may have a concussion. i've detected a large contusion."

you bring a hand up to your head, trying to feel the wound. peter coaxes your hand away with a don't touch, baby. you try to say something, but you can't. you're in too much pain. your dad and peter share a knowing look.

"we'll be there soon, fri. make sure they're ready for us. and call happy, tell him to pick us up asap."

"i’ll let them know right away, boss."

a bright light shines directly in your eyes, making you stir a bit in peter's lap. you whine and squeeze your eyes shut. fresh tears fall down your cheeks.

"it's okay, it's okay. it's just your old man."

you squint your eyes open.

"dad?"

"hey, y/n/n."

"what... what're you doing?"

"just gotta take a look at something. look up?"

you try to open your eyes again, but your eyelids feel heavy. tony holds one of your eyes open himself, then the other. he clicks his tongue.

"what's wrong? is she okay?" peter asks your dad.

"pupils are bigger than they should be. still reacting to light, though. that's good."

"what does it mean if her pupils are too big?"

"friday's right. she could have a mild concussion."

the light turns off, your body finally relaxing. peter's body stiffens.

"that's serious, isn't it?"

peter looks from tony to you, stroking your hair and cupping your cheek, then back up at tony. tony can see the fear in his eyes.

"it shouldn't be, the bleeding just gave us a scare. we'll know more when we get her home."

you grab at peter's knee. he places his hand over yours, thumb smoothing along the back of your hand. you look around the tunnel with blurry vision.

peter doesn't like the uncertainty of this. they don't even know the extent of your injuries, just that they might be serious. he knows you're going to be okay, that tony and the med bay team know what to do and you'll bounce back from this because you're you, but he's scared. you've never been hurt this badly before.

"happy's got our location. he'll be here as soon as he can," tony tells you, voice uncharacteristically soft. you blink your eyes in response. "how long is that gonna be?" peter asks.

"i’m not sure, kid."

hot, frustrated tears fill peter's eyes.

"we can't just wait around anymore. she's been like this for a while."

"trust me, pete. i don't like waiting either."

"then let's just bring her back ourselves."

tony gives peter a stern look.

"let's not."

"why not? it's faster if one of us takes her. i’ll swing her there right now."

peter is already scooping you into his arms, preparing to pick you up. you groan at the sudden movement. tony removes you from peter's arms and takes you into his own protectively.

"i said no. we're not flying her home, and we're definitely not swinging her. it isn't safe."

peter stays quiet, blinking back tears.

"you've gotta remember, y/n isn't like you. she doesn't have powers. for the stark's, it's just us out there."

he knows tony is right, of course he is. he forgets how vulnerable you actually are because you're always so strong. riding home with happy may take longer than peter wants it to, but it's safer for you. he needs to think about your best interest. putting other things first caused all of this in the first place.

if peter had found you earlier instead of finishing the fight, maybe he would have been able to get you help sooner. maybe you wouldn't be in this bad of a condition.

"i’m sorry, tony. i’m really, really sorry."

"no biggie, i get it. you're just looking out for her."

"no, that's the problem. i wasn't."

"what're you talking about?"

peter can't hold back his tears any longer.

"i wasn't there when y/n got hurt. it must've happened when we separated. when i found her, she... she was already like this."

"hey, kid. don't do that, don't blame yourself. you didn't know."

"i could've known if i paid more attention. i could've heard, or... or maybe she said something."

peter avoids tony's gaze, too ashamed to look at him, and too guilty to look at you.

"everyone gets caught up, pete. hell, you know i do. but you know what? you're here for y/n now, and we're taking care of her. that's what matters."

"you mean, you're not mad at me?"

tony surprises him by outstretching an arm and pulling him into a side hug. peter manages a small smile, wiping at his watery eyes.

"do i seem mad?"

"guess not. thanks."

tony pats him on the shoulder.

"time to go. happy'll be here any minute."

"okay, i’ll go ahead of you guys so you can see where you're going."

peter starts to collect your things while your dad helps you up. you're disoriented, head pounding, and you stumble a bit because you don't quite have your balance. tony is quick to catch you.

"easy, y/n/n. you're alright, yeah?"

"i want peter."

"he's right here, just leading the way. i’m gonna help you."

"no, i want peter."

peter's heart clenches. he looks to your dad for permission.

"alright, parker. i'll trade you. but be careful, she's precious cargo."

tony lets go of you, but he stays close just in case. he takes your things from peter. you fling yourself into peter's arms, hiding your face in the space between his neck and shoulder. peter hugs you to his chest. tony smiles at peter and nods in approval, making peter smile back.

"i got you," peter coos. "are you gonna need help walking, or you got it?"

"i dunno, i'm dizzy. carry me?"

"sure, baby."

peter picks you up bridal style, one arm secured under you and the other supporting your head. you loosely wrap your arms around his neck.

"can you stay with me when we get there?"

peter kisses the side of your head lightly.

"i’m not going anywhere."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety

[luveline]

bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!

thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem

The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 

He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 

James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 

He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 

You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 

"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 

"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 

James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 

"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 

"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 

You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.

"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.

Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 

"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 

"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 

"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 

"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 

"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 

"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 

The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 

The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 

"Eternal doesn't mean better." 

"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 

You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 

"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 

"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 

Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 

[burningembers91]

Gunpowder and Lace - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare

Synopsis: Determined to level the playing field, you take The Salesman to places he's never been

A/N: I honestly don't know who i become when i write for this man, this piece is unhinged and i regret nothing. I also know this character never has his real name revealed, but for the purposes of the storyline, I had to make one up.

This fic is also inspired by the insanity that is this gif:

He was desperate to be back in control. That night in the restaurant had taken him by surprise, had left his mind reeling. You’d left him lying there on the floor like yesterday’s trash, saying goodbye without a second glance back at him. You’d humiliated him, left him to clean himself up and hastily pay the bill before he was found naked on the floor, shaking from pleasure and rage. No one had treated him like this before, no had ever been this bold before. The women he’d played with in the past, they’d always been scared him; but not you. You seemed to enjoy this torture, seemed to enjoy being pushed. He was sure the meal would break you, but it only seemed to make you stronger.

He was so desperate to regain control that he almost didn’t notice that he was losing it entirely. He’d never invited anyone to his home before, and the day after your meal together he turned up at your apartment to bring you over. He’d tried to convince himself that it would be easier to have you under his control if he had you somewhere he was familiar with, but he was fooling himself. He’d given up sitting out on the park bench now, his desire to be with you far outweighing his desire to watch you like a predator watches its prey. You no longer went to the coffee shop either, instead marking your student’s work at his home. He had tried to convince himself that it was another way to keep you in line, to keep you away from a world where you could wonder away from him at any time. But you seemed to enjoy being in his home, stretched out on his sofa as your worked, acting as if he didn’t exist. He wanted to be angry with you, but he couldn’t. He wondered if he was somehow broken. The aloofness he had once possessed was gone around you. He found himself seeking your attention, trying to distract you while you worked. But you never rose to the bait, never gave him the satisfaction he so desperately craved. One evening, as you worked late into the night on a presentation, he’d grown tired of waiting for you.

“I’m busy,” you told him, when he came searching for your touch. Your words felt like a slap, a punch in his gut that left him floored. “You’re getting awfully mouthy with me,” he snapped back. He could feel himself losing him cool; why weren’t you scared of him? Why were you so unfazed by him? Was he losing his touch? Perhaps he wasn’t enough for you anymore. That last thought scared him, and he wasn’t used to being scared. He ended up on his knees in front of you, his tongue lapping desperate circles around the sensitive nub of your clit. The moans he elicited from you were heavenly, his fingers working your soft, tight core. Your thighs tightened around his face as you came, your cries of pleasure echoing off his expansive walls. He was sure he’d got your attention, was sure you wouldn’t be able to resist him, but you went right back to your work, leaving him on his knees like a dog.

You knew exactly what you were doing, of course. You didn’t like acting so cold towards him, but you were tired of knowing nothing about him when he knew so much about you. You were intrigued, if a little shocked, when he invited you into his home but could find nothing that would give you any clue as to who this man was. You could feel your lust turning into something more, but you didn’t even know his name, and it was beginning to drive you crazy. You decided to try and beat him at his own game, to try and push him like he pushed you. You hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the steak incident; you’d been sick for days after, but something kept you coming back. You recognised the feelings you were beginning to have for him, but you couldn’t fully allow yourself to break down the walls. All relationships needed an equal amount of giving and taking though, and it was time he learned that.

“Tell me your name,” you whispered one night, your nails dragging down his chest and torso as he writhed against his mattress. You’d bested him again, beaten him at his own game. What had started as a desire to show you that he was still in charge, had ended up with him handcuffed to his bed while you delivered the most delicious punishments. Your tongue, lips and teeth explored his body, your silk negligee brushing against his flushed skin. The mix of silk, soft kisses and sharp teeth were agonisingly blissful, and he found himself slipping further and further into your grip. “Just tell me your name,” you repeated, “and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

What was it that he wanted though? This whole thing had started as a game for him, just another girl he could use to entertain himself until he ultimately got bored of you. But somewhere along the line, it had gone horribly wrong. He wasn’t bored of you, far from it. He craved your attention, your validation. Your hands skimmed his lower stomach, purposely avoiding his stiff, leaking cock. He whimpered, a sound he’d never made before, and he knew in that instant he was done for.

“Let’s try something else then, shall we?” You smiled. You’d get him to tell you his name, consequences be damned. You knew that once he’d recovered, once he’d regained his usual controlling façade that you’d pay for this. You didn’t mind though; you’d take whatever punishment he dolled out if he would just tell you his name.

You knew he kept a gun in his bedside table, had seen the flsh of the black metal as he opened it one night. You’d grown up clay pigeon shooting as a child and teen, and a handgun couldn’t be that different from a rifle, could it? You’d removed the bullets while he’d been in the bathroom, setting the gun back carefully in its place. He didn’t need know you’d taken them out, but you couldn’t help but feel that accidentally firing it might spoil the fun a little.

Pulling the drawer open, you carefully removed the gun, the weapon heavy and cold in your hand. You saw his eyes light up, heard the guttural growl fall from his lips as he pulled at his restraints. His chest rose and fell heavily, his body shaking with anticipation. He was enjoying this.

You dragged the barrel of the gun slowly up his leg, his stomach, and across his chest. “Open your mouth,” you instructed. He did as he was told, so eager. You slid the gun slowly into his mouth, relishing in the pathetic little whimpers that fell from him. Your free hand trailed back down his stomach, before coming to a stop at the base of his cock. A single nail dragged up its length, your eyes never leaving his as he squirmed against your touch. “Tell me,” you repeated, tutting when he shook his head. Your hand gripped the base of him, working his shaft slowly and deliberately, watching his reaction as he neared the brink. Just when you felt him start to shake, just before he reached the edge of ecstasy, you pulled you hand away.

He screamed something at you, but you couldn’t tell what it was; the gun muffled his voice. “It’s just your name,” you sighed, “that’s all I want. Give me what I want, and I’ll let you punish me for my disobedience.” Your hand began to stroke him once more, your thumb circling the top of his cock as he pulled against the handcuffs.

He couldn’t take it much more, the desire to fall apart for you was overwhelming, bordering on painful. He’d tell you his bank account details if you asked, anything to get you to give him what he needed. “Park Jin-Tae!” he cried, his words muffled by the cold metal in this mouth. “What was that?” you smiled, removing the gun enough so he could speak clearly. “Park Jin-Tae,” he repeated. “My name is Park Jin-Tae.” “Good boy,” you winked. He’d told you what you wanted to know; you wouldn’t tease him any longer. You placed the gun back on the bedside table, lowering your mouth to his aching cock. You’d barely placed your lips around him before he emitted a strangled cry, losing himself completely as he spilled his seed down your throat.

He’d given you a piece of himself, a part of him that he had kept hidden from the world for longer than he could remember. As you unhandcuffed him and kissed him tenderly on his lips, he so badly wanted to be angry with you. But as he looked into your eyes, his chest ached in the most beautiful way possible. His heart raced, his stomach flipped, he craved your touch, your skin against his. He knew in that moment he’d lost the game. He wasn’t in control anymore, you were. Maybe you had been the whole time. He’d spent his entire life feeling nothing for anyone, treating people as toys he could play with and throw away. But from the moment he met you, his body had ached for you, every atom of his being craved you. He was a fool to think he’d ever been in charge.

“Park Jin-Tae,” you smiled, kneeling before him with your hands behind your back. “I’ll let you punish me now.” You looked so beautiful, so perfect. As he slipped the handcuffs onto your wrists, bending your delicate body over his knee, he brought his hand down against the skin of your ass hard. Your cry of pleasure was irresistible, but tonight he’d make you shed tears.

Yes, he would punish you. Punish you for making him fall in love.