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#believe it or not this was requested before i felt sick
yan-randomfandom · 19 hours
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First of all, I REALLY LOVE YOUR YANDERE WRITING (especially Yandere gravity falls),I would like to make a request (if I don't order from you), could you make a Stanley Yandere headcanon with more details? 🥹, I really love this old scammer
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Stanley Pines x Wealthy!Reader
warnings: slightly disturbing body description at the end?
I finally wrote a long drabble for Stan... Here's a quick one before I get ready for college (I'm already late) Enjoy!! [Words: 1201] supposed to be Mullet Stan, or js younger EDIT: I JUST REALIZED YOU SAID HEADCANONS. UM UHHHHHH I'LL DO THAT TOO
💰
Somehow, Stanley Pines managed to get an extremely rich partner. The highest class of the higher class in the social system.
It only took him two dates. The fact that you agreed to a second date was disturbing, especially considering how disastrous the first one had been. He fully expected you to ditch him just for laughs. You didn't, and actually showed up.
Stan seriously wondered if there was something wrong with you. Were you that desperately lonely? Willing to date a broke, unemployed man? Pick up the first person you find?
Yet you showered him with gifts he has never had before in his entire life. You gave him unlimited food. You gave him money and a house.
Guess his flirting skills were just that good. He liked you too, to some extent, but he suspected it's mostly because you're rich.
But, strangely enough, after your two dates, you never really gave him attention again. You were almost never home.
Very rarely you gave him affection like a significant other is supposed to do.
That was fine with him; he didn’t really expect the relationship to last like any of his others. The whole situation was weird enough as it is. As long as he got a roof over his head, he really shouldn't be one to complain... Just make sure it's not a car roof.
It's honestly all just confusing, at most.
And so, he wholeheartedly enjoyed your money, trying to double it and invest as much as he could. Hey, it's free stuff! Not like it'd backfire or anything! If you ignore fumbling that one lottery win because he got disqualified...
Then, one day, Stanley got sick.
You stayed home that same day.
He felt his body shivering, wrapping himself around his blanket like his life depended on it. Head pounding, body shaking, skin sweating. Everything was so uncomfortable.
"You're really burning up, Stan," you murmured, clicking your tongue as you read his temperature. Higher than the usual fever.
Grabbing a cup of water, you tapped him over his layer of blanket. "Please sit up and drink this. I'll give you medicine."
It was too hard for him to move. You gently pulled the blanket from him. When it reached his nose, he made eye contact with you. His eyes were glazed and half-lidded from exhaustion.
"Why are you here?" he grunted, sitting up eventually. "Thought ya forgot about me."
You stared as he drank his water. "What?"
He wiped his mouth. "Eh, nothin'. Must be busy being rich."
"..." You quietly passed him his medicine.
After he took it, Stan ignored your silence and laid back on the bed. Once again, he buried himself under his comforter.
You frowned. "After our second date, I didn't expect my schedule to be so filled. I thought I'd make it up to you by giving you gifts."
A deep chuckle rumbled from the blanket. "It's alright, toots, I'm more curious on why you bothered anyway."
"Why?" you parroted, blinking. "...Oh, Stan."
Stan felt his comforter get pulled again, turning to see your expression. It was quite unreadable, to his dismay.
He almost stopped breathing when you put a gentle hand on his cheek.
"Believe it or not, I do like you," you rubbed a thumb across his hot skin, "I'm so sorry. We'll have more bonding time when you get better, okay? I dropped everything today to take care of you, and I promise I'll do it again."
Stan's vision blurred. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to turn away from you.
"I don't deserve that. You do know I was after your money, right?"
You chuckled. "I knew that. Don't we all?"
He pursed his lips. "Wait, seriously? Then why'd you date me?"
"I don't know," you shrugged, pulling your hand away from him. He missed your touch already. "But I don't regret it."
"What do you even see in me? I sure as hell don't know. Unless..." his eyes widened, "You're trying to—"
Your face heated up immensely with furrowed eyebrows, shaking your head. "Of course not! I would never! Please don't ever mention that again??"
He laughed, yet it sounded throaty and scratchy. You smiled anyway at the fact he got to smile.
...
"...Permission to kiss you?" you asked.
...
You cringed internally. Terrible timing to ask that question.
But Stan had different thoughts... He didn't even know if he loved you like that. Your relationship moved too fast, and now you're here, taking care of him while he's sick. Sure, you're both in a relationship, but he knew this was wrong, because it felt wrong.
But... ah, he can't think straight.
"Yes," he breathed, desperately. Almost starved. Needy.
He reveled in the feeling of both your hands resting on his cheeks, only to feel slightly dejected when you kissed his forehead.
Guess even you're aware of your relationship right now. That's nice to know. Still, he liked the sentiment to the point that a smile is threatening to go out. "You're gonna, uh... steal my fever because of this."
A chuckle left your lips. "Then I'll trust you to take care of me next."
Trust.
Stan had never trusted anyone again after the incident, and no one else had any reason to trust him either.
He raised his hands and placed them over yours, which were still on his cheeks. You watched as he brushed his nose against your hand, giving you soft, ghostly kisses with his lips.
You smiled. "During our first date, I knew you were more than what you let on. Sure, you're charming and funny, but then I saw you staring at that family with kids, and I definitely noticed when you helped that old lady with the door."
Stan stared at you.
"And I really appreciated how hard you tried to make me comfortable," your smile widened. "I think that's the main reason that made me go on a second date with you."
He coughed, looking away. "Hey. I seem to be... in need of a warm body beside me. On the bed. Because I'm sick. And in need of emotional support."
"Sure," you chuckled. "Worth the risk."
He snuggled up to you as soon as you laid beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was cold, yet so warm.
You played with his hair, combing your fingers through it.
The longer you stayed with him, his warm body pressed against yours, the more he became addicted to the feeling.
The feeling of having someone by his side. Someone who actually understands him.
His eyes closed, indulging himself with your presence and warmth, trying to press himself further into you.
The fever made him feel as if he would melt into you, his flesh becoming one with yours, and everything in his body merging beneath your skin.
If he didn't love you just a few minutes ago, then he certainly does now.
And he's never letting you go.
BONUS:
"Noooooo. Please come back. I need you," he sobbed, actual tears leaking from his eyes. Your lips twitched; at least now you knew he has intense mood swings when he's sick.
You twisted the towel you had just soaked in water. "This will be quick. It'll seep the fever out of you."
"Nooo."
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bcyhoods · 1 year
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can I request steve taking care of a sick shy!reader?
the universe knew i needed inspiration and they said BAM, now ur sick :P so essentially……..this is self-indulgent, i apologize in advance | 1k fluff, fem!reader
You’d first assumed that the itch in the back of your throat was trivial. The cold morning air had irritated your lungs before and it would usually go away within the first hour of being awake. But something about this particular itch could not be satisfied, no matter how many times you’d cleared your throat or how much water you drank. Then your nose started running.
A few harsh, involuntary coughs and an empty tissue box later, you’d reluctantly accepted your fate. You were sick.
When you called to tell Steve, you didn’t expect him to make a big deal about it. You severely underestimated just how tight you had him wrapped around your finger. Not even half an hour later, he was at your doorstep with a giant paper bag full of cough syrups and other remedies. He sported a cute frown upon seeing you answer the door with a chapped nose and a blanket draped over your shoulders.
He was here to bear witness to your sickness in all its raw glory. You’d feel more embarrassed if it wasn’t Steve. Nonetheless, you shrink into your pillows as he dotes on you.
“Hmm.” He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, right beside your legs as you sit up against the headboard. His nose scrunches and makes his wire frames slip slightly down his nose.
“You feel a little warm, but I don’t think you have a fever,” he deduces. He hauls the paper bag off the floor to sit in his lap while he digs through to find the proper medicine bottle.
You see, Steve had no idea how sick you felt when he was speeding over to the general store. He didn’t want to get you something that’d be completely useless. So with the help of Joyce Byers, he practically raided the aisles and purchased as many daily capsules and herbal teas that he could get his hands on. Your medicine cabinet will be stocked for at least the next couple years.
A sound of satisfaction pulls your attention to the bottle of cough syrup in his hand. The bright orange liquid taunts you as it sloshes against the plastic when he pushes it your way.
“Do I have to?” You whine, lips beginning to curl at the mere memory of its offensive taste, “It’s gross, Steve.”
“I know, honey, but it’s just one spoonful. You can do a spoonful,” he tells you so confidently that it makes you hiccup.
Upon seeing the twist in your expression, he sweetens the deal with the promise of homemade chicken noodle soup and a few kisses — the latter you begrudgingly refuse so as to not pass the cold.
He pours the syrup into the shallow bowl of a spoon, chuckling at the grimace that’s still present on your face. You push yourself to sit up straighter and sniffle as he moves the spoon closer to you. Your stomach dips when you see him smile and nod in simple assurance before you’re opening your mouth.
Your lips wrap around the metal and you’re immediately recoiling at the foul flavour.
“See? I told you, you could do it. Look how easy that was.”
It makes your chest flutter. He’s reaching down into the bag again to grab a water bottle and your arms spring for it. Steve chuckles at your eagerness as he watches you quickly unscrew the cap and chug. The remnants of the medicine burn the back of your throat and your eyes briefly water at the sting.
“You okay?” He caresses your calf over the thick comforter when he asks. It makes your shoulders droop — you ache to feel his cold hands in your warm skin. You nod sheepishly and avert your eyes from his stare.
“Thank you, doctor,” you say without much thought.
Steve perks up. There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he hums and takes the bottle from your hands.
“Doctor, huh? Are you into that? Doctor Harrington?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
A cough of surprise pushes out past your lips and you can feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage. Your leg burns where his hand rests and the sensation rushes right to the top of your head. His taunting gaze makes your hands fly to your cheeks and a shy grin fights its way onto your face.
“What? No, I…” Steve’s brow jumps up to challenge you. You attempt to steel yourself, but eyes dart everywhere but his face. “I’m into being healthy,” you reply, voice shaky.
“Right, yeah. Totally. But you’re also into me, right?” He scoots closer to you as his hand slowly inches up toward your thigh.
“Steve,” you scold him and shut your eyes.
“Oh. You’re so into me, it’s making you sick, my poor girl,” he teases before leaning over to kiss your jaw down to your throat. You giggle as tufts of his hair tickle your cheeks and then you’re pulling him back. His lips drag up the column of your neck until he’s reaching your lips. It’s feather-light before you’re pulling back.
“I’m gross right now,” you mutter with a frown, referring to your cold. But Steve takes great offense. He pouts.
“This bug got you good. Making you delirious.” He dives back in for your lips. It’s firm this time, like he’s proving a point. It makes you sigh and grab at his biceps as he’s pushing you up against your headboard. When his hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer, you start pushing at his shoulders.
“Steve,” you whine into his mouth, “I’m gonna get you sick.”
“Come on, I have a solid immune system,” he insists, “I’m basically superhuman. I think I can handle a few kisses.”
Steve thinks he’s just about the luckiest person in the world when you smile and laugh. And also because he’s got you to take care of him when he inevitably gets sick the following week.
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januaryembrs · 5 months
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YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
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Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶
Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?
Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)
warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.
authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship
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There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 
He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 
Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?
Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 
He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 
They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 
“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 
Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.
They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 
She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 
Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 
They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.
Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 
Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 
“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 
They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 
Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 
He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 
“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”
They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”
“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”
His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 
“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 
She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 
“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 
“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 
She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 
“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”
The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 
“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”
Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 
“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 
Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 
Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 
His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 
Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 
“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 
“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 
“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 
“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”
She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 
“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”
He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 
He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 
Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 
“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”
And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.
She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 
She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 
It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 
“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 
But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 
“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 
She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 
“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”
“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 
“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”
“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”
But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 
Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 
He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 
“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”
She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 
“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 
His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 
Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 
She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’
She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 
He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 
They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 
He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 
She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 
And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 
Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 
But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 
It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 
He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 
The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 
He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 
“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 
She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 
“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 
“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 
 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 
And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 
Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 
“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 
She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 
“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 
Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”
 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 
She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”
His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 
She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.
“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”
His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 
“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 
She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 
“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.
“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 
She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”
He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”
She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 
“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 
Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 
Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 
But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 
She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”
Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 
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divinesolas · 3 months
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Fighting words
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summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.
Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds
c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread
he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁
masterlist - requests are open!!
tags: @hxtd
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“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.
“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”
You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.
“theyre arrows bracken.”
“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”
He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,
“she said no.”
The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”
“she said no. Back off.”
youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.
You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.
You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.
The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”
Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.
And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.
you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.
“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.
Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.
He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.
The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.
Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.
One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.
Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.
Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.
“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.
“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”
You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.
His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.
One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.
“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.
“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.
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kisses4reid · 4 months
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missed it pt.2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - penelope brings a belated cake for you that leaves everyone guilty. what better way to say sorry then a belated party as well?
genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, barely angst, fluff, forgotten birthdays and sorry’s
warnings - mentions of forgotten birthdays, being sad, crying, umm cake??? y’all not rocking w cake??? y/n uses she/her pronouns
w/c - 1.2k+
a/n - thank you for the request anon! the idea is perfect and so r u for requesting it, i rock w you
request - I was wondering if you were up for a part 2 of missed it???, maybe where someone on the team suddenly remembered that it was readers birthday, and tells the rest of the team about it ( maybe in the elevator, when they’re all heading home & reader left early or smth ). And Spencer’s like yea I went to see them yesterday & they were pretty messed up about it, and they all start to feel really bad, so they come up with a plan to set up reader a berlated surprise b-day party at rossi’s or smth, and reader cries because she’s never felt so loved and appreciated before!!
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Penelope scurried into the office with a leather red bag on her elbow and a large container that covered the lower part of her face. She peered over the plastic and scanned for the one person she was looking for, but instead she was met with a muscular man trying to suss out the tuperware that smelt amazingly sweet. "Hey babygirl," Morgan greeted with a smile, "You baked me a treat?"
Garcia walked further into the bullpen with Derek close behind her, "It's not for you, chocolate thunder. It's for Y/n." She replied matter-of-factly.
She placed her bag and the cake container on your empty desk and furrowed her eyebrows in the search for your presense which seemed to be absent.
JJ and Emily walked by with their cups of coffee in hand, joining Derek's confusion. Emily spoke up, "Why would Y/n need a cake?"
Spencer glanced then. He felt an unfamiliar rush of anger push him out of his chair. He bit the inside of his lip.
Last night, you had poured your heart out to him on the reasons you didn't tell others about your birthday, about much even. Would it be betrayal to expose you? Would it be kind? Spencer pondered as Penelope's mouth went agape in disgust.
She smacked each of the detectives on the arm, recieving groans and gasps from them all. "Are you kidding? It was Y/n's birthday yesterday. I was supposed to give her this yesterday but I was sick so..." Even a person like Penelope could read the subtle signs of regret on the profiler's faces. They screw their lips, glanced at each other - and Spencer - and didn't meet Garcia's eyes. Penelope sighed in anger and she started vocalising the very thoughts that were circling Spencer's mind.
"Are you guys serious? She worked 12 hours with each of you bozo's! And not one of you remembered? Not even a gift? Or a 'happy birthday Y/n'? You guys are unbelievable." She huffed and slapped her hand on the top of the cake container. "Where's Y/n?"
That's when the blonde turned to Spencer. "Uh- She went home early. She finished her paperwork pretty quickly." Emily, JJ, Morgan, and now Hotch - who had been wathcing from his office - all started packing up. Their cups of coffee were poured down the sink, and the sunshine was coming to a close. Spencer's hardened grip on his satchel was turning his knuckles white.
There they all were. Garcia's anger pouring out of her in determined and disciplining paragraphs about care and love and being a team, and Spencer's was pouring into his uneven breaths.
"I can't believe not one of you remembered. Not even Spencer! I mean-"
"I remembered."
The elevator went silent, the digital display counting down quickly. Spencer gulped and fiddled with his bag, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the memories of last night. Depressing, heart-breaking, beautiful. A lot of things happened last night. Some good, most bad.
"I went to her apartment last night with a cake. She was..." There was no lying to a team like this, "devastated."
JJ sighed, "We should do something."
Aaron nodded and brought out his phone, texting Rossi who also left early with you.
This week was full of tears and crying, snotty noses and new boxes of tissues. And today was no different. Though you promised yourself that yesterday was the last day you'd feel sorry for yourself, tears crept to your eyelashes even at the glass of the perfume Spencer had gifted you. It smelt amazing.
Your bed was a mess, your living room desolate and the kitchen long unused.
Today, you would get over it. You've gotten over it for years, why is this one any different? Is it because you thought you had found another family? Is it because Spencer proved people can care, but don't? Maybe it was because instead of wishing you happy birthday, you're father sent a photo of your sister's sports awards and asked why you didn't send her a congradulations text.
Today, you would get over it.
Today, I will get over it.
Your phone buzzed against your kitchen countertop as steam and the smell of onion and garlic filled your kitchen. You glanced, being met with a call from Derek, but being too slow to pick it up. And then suddenly there was a knock on your door.
You shut off the oven, wiped your hands on a cloth towel and tucked some loose hair behind your ears. Not only was this person interrupting a brand new recipe you had been reccomended, but also the reruns of your favourite sitcom. A sigh escaped you as you approached the door, preparing to explain that you were busy, but when you turned the doorknob you were met with deja vu.
Your team was beaming at you, all holding plates and bowls of various sweets and treats, as well as sandwiches and a large cake you assumed was decorated by Garcia.
"Happy Birthday Y/n!" They all screamed, not really in time but close enough to sound rehearsed. A smile slipped out from you as you laughed in shock. You felt your cheeks redden from the attention, feeling slightly uncomfortable and out of place, but you stepped aside to let them in anyways.
They hugged you, quietly and whole-heartedly apologised, and started setting up the surprise birthday lunch with Morgan's playlist filling the apartment. As Rossi passed he whispered, "Did you try that recipe I told you to try, the one I said at your belated dinner?"
Rossi was the only other person other than Penelope and Spencer to know your birthday. In fact, you two had the dinner planned for a week beforehand. You nodded with a smile and he joined the rest.
Spencer stood at the now closed door with a smile. He fiddled with the bottom of his sweater as he waited for you to turn to him, and when you did his hand latched onto yours discreetly. Your eye widdened slightly, gaze meeting his when he bent down slightly to whisper to you. "I wasn't sure if you would appreciate them showing up here but..." He smiled softly, "I think you deserve at least one good birthday."
Tears nearly brimmed your eyes before you heard your friends howl in laughter in the background, "Thank you, Spencer." A tear escaped you and he wrapped his arms around you. He was warm and his hold was tight with care, it made your heart stutter more than it already was. "Sorry," you giggled nervously and wiped your eyes. He gazed down at you and looked at you with confusion. "Why are you sorry?" "I'm crying at a party- A party for me." You said the last word like the scenario was a dream or seemingly impossible and it made Spencer's heart hurt. "That's okay, Y/n. As long as it's happy crying." He held your shoulders and rubbed his thumbs in comforting circles. "Yeah- Yes. I've just never felt this..."
You glanced at the crowd in your kitchen, full of people you loved and cared for. People you thought didn't care enough, but put an effort into a celebration that doubled as a massive and genuine apology for their mistakes. Nobody had ever said sorry to you for missing your birthday before.
"Loved?" Spencer's voice was soft as he finished your sentence. "Loved." You nod in agreeance, beaming at the tall boy so hard you felt like your heart was on display.
taglist (open!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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twirlyleafs · 5 months
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“Gold-digger.”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: Angst, arguing I guess
A/N: I’m in such a drought I need requests </3
~~~~
It had been a good weekend. A great one even. The weather had been nice, no rain but not too warm, and not one single DNF which had just about everyone feeling happy. Just a few hours ago you cheered for your boyfriend as he took the steps up to the top of the podium, giggling slightly as he sent you a wink from his high position. You never got tired of seeing Max win, you loved it. Loved how hardworking he was and loved that it gave result. Loved to see him happy. You also most definitely didn’t mind the adrenaline he still had coursing through his body when the two of you got back to the hotel, having him press you up against the shower wall with quick and hard thrusts. Looking at the two of you right now, smartly dressed and sitting on opposite sides of the big table surrounded by your friends, no one could imagine the whimpering mess you’d been just a while ago. You smiled as you watched Max across the table, one hand holding his beer as the other was cupped around Daniel’s ear. By the giant grin on Danny’s face you knew Max was whispering gossip to him and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. All around the table people seemed happy, relaxed, and since it was three weeks until the next GP you all found it necessary to both celebrate a good race weekend and the well-deserved upcoming break.
“You think she’d be with me if I wasn’t rich?” You snapped out of your own thoughts, eyes trailing back to your boyfriend. He seemed to be in the middle of some sort of jokey rant, the glimmer in his eye tipping you off to the fact that he was slightly tipsy. Max nodded to you with a grin as the table laughed. “No way man.” You rolled your eyes but chuckled along. Tipsy Max always pulled stupid jokes but because he was so disgustingly adorable everyone was fine with it.
“Shut up Max.” You pointed your fork at him and he grinned, winking back. For a moment the table seemed to move on to other topics but somehow it ended with Max once again saying something about your relationship. He claimed that he didn’t only have his career to thank Redbull for, they had helped him land you too. This time you couldn’t shrug off the feeling that his words were deeper than just a silly comment and you felt the need for him to finally say he was joking. When he dropped a third comment you pushed your brows together, having had enough, and called him out.
“Max.” Your voice had him shifting his gaze to you, the smile still evident on his face. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the sudden frown on your face. “Are you serious?”
“What?”
“You don’t think we’d be together if you weren’t with Redbull?” You were in disbelief, not really comprehending what he was actually talking about. Joking about. Max only shrugged, sporting a carefree smile.
“Maybe if I drove for Ferrari too.” He joked, still keeping the conversation light.
“Not McLaren? That wouldn’t be good enough?” Lando spoke up from the other end of the table and when Max answered with an exaggerated frown and shake of his head everyone once again started laughing. You didn’t. You watched your boyfriend, the big smile on his face as he joked about your relationship making you feel sick. Was he even joking? Or did he actually sincerely believe that the two of you wouldn’t be a couple, that you wouldn’t date him, if he wasn’t rich? It took Max a few moments before his gaze landed on you again, the grin simmering down when he saw the look on your face.
“Are you serious?” You asked again, even though you were starting to realize you wouldn’t like the answer. Max just chuckled and you felt your heart crack at the prospect of him actually thinking you were with him for the money. With a hard swallow you leaned back in your chair, focusing your gaze down into your wineglass as the table moved on.
The rest of the night you did your best to keep up, forcing smiles and laughs even though you wanted nothing else than to sink through the floor. Max didn’t seem to notice. You took note of who payed for dinner, Charles, and made sure you transferred him your share the second you and Max got back to the hotelroom. You had never done that before, no one had, because one of the guys usually offered to take the tab and Max had told you they basically took turns paying. It had never crossed your mind before, but after tonight’s conversations it felt important to pay for yourself.
“Liefje?” Max called from the bedroom as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, removing your makeup. He popped his head through the door a second later, a slight frown on his face. “Chuck is asking why you’re sending him money?”
“Because he paid for dinner.” You answered simply, swiping a cotton pad across your cheeks. Max huffed.
“So?”
“So I’m paying for what I ate. And drank.” You paused to look at him through the mirror. When he still sported a questioning pout you sighed. “Don’t want him to think we’re just friends because he’s rich.” It took Max a moment to process your words, connecting them to earlier that night. When he did he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
“You’re mad about that whole thing?” He asked and it honestly chocked you that he could be so surprised about it. When you broke the eye contact, moving back to start moisturizing your face, he let out another breathy laugh. “Seriously y/n?”
“You’re an asshole Max.” You muttered. Max shuffled closer to you. Even though you were annoyed, mad even, you didn’t stop his hands from smoothing over your hips. You watched his smile through the mirror but didn’t reciprocate it.
“Don’t be mad about that.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. In moments like this you hated that he knew exactly how to make you break. You felt your anger slowly subside when he kneaded his fingers into the skin above your hips, lips still pressing warm kisses against your bare skin. You had almost forgotten how upset you were until he spoke up again. Max had placed his lips just against your ear, something that would usually make you shiver in a good way. Now it had your skin burning hot in anger instead. “I don’t mind paying for you, I like that you like it.”
In a millisecond you had pushed him away, quickly turning to look at him instead. “Are you fucking serious?”
“What?
“I don’t like that you spend your money on me. That’s not why I’m with you, I- how can you even say that? I would love you even if you worked at a fucking gas station.” You were frustrated now, even more so when you saw Max roll his eyes. He obviously still thought you were being dramatic, that this whole thing was kind of amusing.
“Oh let’s be real, we wouldn’t be together if I wasn’t driving in f1 and you weren’t a model. Drivers date models and we do that because we have money, it’s not more complicated than that.” He said it so casually, leaning his hip against the sink. You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. It had been bad enough to know that he thought you used him, but now he’s admitting to only dating you for your looks and your work and suddenly everything felt ten times worse.
“You’re only with me because I’m a model, is that what you’re saying?” You asked slowly, impressed with yourself for keeping your voice steady and the tears at bay. Max shook his head.
“That’s obviously not what I mean, but-“
“Because in that case you can find someone else to spend your precious money on. I’m sure you can pay some hotter girl to be your girlfriend if that’s what you think a relationship is supposed to be like.” Your words were sharp and you saw his face drop just before you turned around, walking out of the bathroom. You immediately went to your suitcase, throwing it up on the bed. Max was quick to follow, stopping you from opening it with a strong hand on top.
“That’s not what I meant.” He repeated, finally seeming to understand the seriousness in his earlier words.
“But it’s what you said. It’s what you’ve been saying the whole night actually. You believe that we’re in some sort of business with each other where I get to use your money and you get to, what? Be like your friends? Date a model? That’s making you feel cool?” You shoved his hand away from your bag, dragging the zipper all around it to open. “I believe -believed- that we loved each other and wanted to be together because we enjoy it. I guess there was some miscommunication.”
“No, no you’re twisting my words.” Max argued, dragging his fingers through his hair in a stressed demeanor while he watched you start to pack your stuff into the bag. “I’m not saying-“
“I think you’ve said enough tonight, actually.” Shoving your suitcase shut again you paused to look up at your boyfriend. Or whatever he was now. He stared at you with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. The situation had escalated too quickly for him to follow and now all of a sudden he was panicking. “I’m gonna knock on Danny’s door, see if I can sleep there. I would advise you to figure out how you see us because if I’m simply someone you think you’re buying to be with you I’m out.”
“Schatje-“ he began, reaching a hand out to touch you. You moved away, pulling your bag down on the floor.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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deepestnightcolor · 5 months
Note
Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”
Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D
Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3
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ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!
PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)
PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader
ᴡᴄ: 4194 words
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.
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☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽
A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.
You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.
However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.
Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!
You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.
“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.
You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.
“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.
“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”
So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.
You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”
The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”
Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.
You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”
A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.
“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”
It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.
“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.
Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.
His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.
“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”
Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.
And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.
The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?
“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 
“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 
Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.
The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 
Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.
The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.
“Could that be it?”
A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.
“I assume that could be it-”
“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”
Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”
A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”
You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”
His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”
Again, you shook your head.
“Lower.”
He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.
“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”
Click - the trap was snapping shut.
It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”
Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?
“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”
“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.
“I dunno…wet?”
His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!
“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”
He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”
Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.
“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”
Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!
“Oh! And…how does that work?” 
Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.
“I-”
“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.
“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”
You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.
“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.
The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 
Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 
“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 
“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”
The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.
He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.
His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?
“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.
His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.
He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.
Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.
 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.
It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.
You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.
“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”
Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.
“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.
The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.
Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?
You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”
A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.
His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.
“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.
Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.
Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.
The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.
The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.
“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.
You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.
As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.
You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.
“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“
He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.
The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.
His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.
He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.
Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.
Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.
Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.
“I am glad I was able to help.”
Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?
“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”
Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap
1K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 1 month
Note
girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)
May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"
they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day
3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?
you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!
Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening
CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])
Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 
“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.
While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 
But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 
That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 
Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 
And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.
He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.
You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.
Couldn’t be you, however.
No.
You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.
Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 
You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 
You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 
Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.
And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?
But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 
Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 
You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 
Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.
But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.
And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.
Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 
Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?
Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.
No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.
So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.
You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 
You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 
Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.
“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.
“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 
He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 
“Says who?”
Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.
He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”
You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 
He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”
You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”
“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”
Oh.
“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”
“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 
“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”
You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”
The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.
“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 
“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 
His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 
“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 
You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.
“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 
“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 
Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.
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wonusite · 1 year
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I Hate U, I Love U
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❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞
PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader
WORD COUNT: 20.8k
GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut
WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation
a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!
You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.
An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.
Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.
As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.
Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.
This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.
The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.
As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.
You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.
In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.
“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”
You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.
The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.
Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.
For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.
Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.
“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”
Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.
“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?
You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.
“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”
Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.
Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.
You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.
When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.
“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”
You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?
“I’m talking to you.”
Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”
Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”
“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”
You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”
Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.
“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”
Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.
The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.
Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.
When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.
In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.
“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”
If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”
The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.
“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”
You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.
“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”
His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”
“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”
Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.
The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.
Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.
Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.
“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”
You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”
Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.
“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”
The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”
You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”
“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”
A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”
Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”
You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”
Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”
You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.
Things don’t get better after that first day.
Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.
As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.
“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.
“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”
It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”
It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.
“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”
His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.
“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.
Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”
“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”
Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.
“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.
It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.
But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.
“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.
“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”
“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”
Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.
“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.
“Did his family go broke or something?”
“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”
There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.
You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.
Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.
It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.
If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.
“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”
“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”
There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”
Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.
Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.
Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.
The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.
In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.
Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.
That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.
This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.
When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.
“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”
It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.
“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”
“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”
Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.
“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”
You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.
“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.
Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.
The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.
Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.
Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.
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“Your dad really outdid himself.”
Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.
“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”
Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:
1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.
But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.
“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”
Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.
“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”
His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?
“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”
He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?
“Son.”
Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”
Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.
The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.
Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.
“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.
“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”
It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.
“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”
Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.
“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.
“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”
Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”
“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”
Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.
“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”
Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.
“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”
He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.
The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.
“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”
His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.
“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”
Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.
“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.
“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”
There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”
“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”
She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.
There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.
This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.
“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.
Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”
The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”
You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”
Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.
“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.
You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”
Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”
Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.
“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”
“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”
Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”
You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”
“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.
“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”
You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.
Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.
If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.
Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.
“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”
Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.
“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”
Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”
“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”
“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”
Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.
At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.
Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.
“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.
“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.
Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.
Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”
You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.
“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”
Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”
He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.
“The very one.”
It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”
You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”
Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.
“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.
“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”
“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.
Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.
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As usual, your manager was right to worry.
Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.
It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”
You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”
Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”
For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.
“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”
Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.
You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.
As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.
“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.
“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”
He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.
It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.
Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.
The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.
You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.
Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.
It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.
“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.
Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”
Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.
“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”
He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.
“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.
Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.
“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”
You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.
“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.
“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”
Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.
You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.
You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.
This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.
When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.
“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”
Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.
The victory, however, is short-lived.
Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.
It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.
When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.
Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.
“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”
You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”
Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.
“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”
Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.
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Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.
“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”
Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.
“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.
The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?
Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”
The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.
“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”
“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.
“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.
“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”
His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.
“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”
Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.
“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”
There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.
“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”
“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."
“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”
Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.
After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.
Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.
All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.
“Y/N.”
You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.
There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.
“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.
You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.
“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”
The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.
“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”
Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.
“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”
The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.
Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”
There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.
“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”
Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.
“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”
“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.
“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”
When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.
The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.
“What is it that you want to say, then?”
“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”
Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?
“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”
That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.
In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.
“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”
Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”
All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.
“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”
Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”
His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”
Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.
“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”
The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.
“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”
Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”
“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”
“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.
It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”
Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.
You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.
“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.
The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.
“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”
Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”
With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.
Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”
Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.
You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.
The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.
“You’re not going to say anything?”
Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.
“Be my girlfriend.”
His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”
“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”
You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”
Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.
“Fine, but I have conditions.”
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Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.
“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”
You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”
Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.
“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.
You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”
Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.
“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”
Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.
“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”
You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”
Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.
Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.
He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.
“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.
“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.
You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.
“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”
Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”
He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.
“Then, should we take it a step further?”
You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.
Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).
“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”
Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.
You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”
There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.
Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”
On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.
There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.
Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.
“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.
You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.
Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.
When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.
“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.
“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”
After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.
You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.
When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.
“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”
Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.
His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.
Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.
You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.
“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.
You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.
“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”
You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.
“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”
It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.
“I don’t hate you.”
His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”
“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.
“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.
“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.
Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”
He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.
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“They look so cute together.”
This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.
“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.
Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.
At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.
It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.
“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.
You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.
“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”
You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.
“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”
His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.
And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.
“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.
“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.
“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”
Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”
You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.
“Stay forever.”
It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.
In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.
“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.
“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”
“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”
You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.
“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.
“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”
His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.
When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.
“Want to get breakfast?”
You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.
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“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”
Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.
“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.
The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”
Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.
“You’re not coming back?”
You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.
“And I don’t want to breakup.”
The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”
“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”
It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.
“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.
You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.
“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”
Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.
“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”
Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”
The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.
“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.
Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.
“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”
Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”
You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”
Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.
“Why?”
You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
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Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.
“I missed you so much.”
You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.
The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.
Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”
Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.
“Let me show you how much I missed you.”
Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.
When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”
Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.
The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.
“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”
“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.
You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.
Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.
The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.
“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”
His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.
“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.
You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.
Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.
“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.
He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.
“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.
That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.
“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”
“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”
You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.
“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.
Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”
“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.
Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.
“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.
You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.
“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”
“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.
Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.
Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.
“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.
You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.
“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”
His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.
“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.
“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”
“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”
He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”
His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.
The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.
“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.
You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.
Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.
“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”
It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.
“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.
He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”
“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.
Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.
Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.
Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.
“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.
You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.
His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.
“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”
Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.
In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.
Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.
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taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo
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4K notes · View notes
farmerstarter · 1 year
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The Bachelors and How They Sleep
hello lovelies! Have some more of my headcanons. These HCs are for a gn! reader. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 🌷🤍
Alex:
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🏈 Moves a lot during his sleep. But he doesn't outright punch you by accident. You always seem to end up being under him.
🏈 Mumbles a lot too. One time, you woke up to him counting to himself, just like how he counts his bicep curls.
🏈 Wakes up early, just a few moments before you. He says it's because he needs to exercise the first thing in the morning. But it's actually because he felt you move out of the bed and he doesn't like to be alone.
🏈 Gives you all the pillows to make you comfortable. He says it's important for your muscles to get a good night's rest. He ends up hogging the blankets.
Elliott:
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🪶 Sleeps like a dead man. He doesn't move at all, save for the occasional turning to the side to snuggle against you.
🪶 It takes him a while to finally succumb to slumber. He says it's because he's used to listening to the waves of the beach to fall asleep.
🪶 Silk pajamas, the man has sets of them. He keeps his hair down while sleeping so you sometimes wake up to your whole face being covered by his locks.
🪶 He's a late riser, mostly because he sleeps late too. He tells you that he writes better at night and he doesn't allow himself to rest until he's finished writing one chapter at least.
Harvey:
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🛩️ Sometimes, Harvey forgets to take off his glasses before he goes to bed. Which is why he has so many broken ones that he tries to hide from you by kicking them under the bed.
🛩️ Professional cuddler. He always makes sure you're in his arms or vice versa. He needs to touch you in order to get a good night's rest. Doesn't matter if you two are spooning or if it's just his hand on top of your arm.
🛩️ Snores a lot. Goes "hoooonk mimimimimi hoooonk mimimimi"
🛩️ I like to imagine him wearing those pajamas that's like just a long night gown and those floppy pointy hats. You know the one.
Sam:
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🎸 Alex mumbles in his sleep, Sam straight up sings. Usually it's outbursts of the choruses of his songs, sometimes he'd hum the tune out. You have a video of him playing air drums while sleeping. You sent the video to Abigail and Sebastian, and they never let Sam hear the end of it.
🎸 He wakes up super late most of the time. But on the rare occasion where he doesn't, he cooks breakfast and serves it to you in bed. Complete with a flower in a vase and everything.
🎸 Always kisses you before he falls asleep. Straight up drags you to his side of the bed to peck your lips.
🎸 Would take off his shirt to put it on you. He says he doesn't want you getting cold at night and waves you off when you refuse, worried about his wellbeing. "I don'T gEt sicK eaSiLy, Babe," ends up in the clinic to get meds the next day.
Sebastian:
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👾 It's my headcanons and I say he moves a LOT during his sleep. So much so that you end up on the floor when you wake up. He refuses to believe that he does that.
👾 His sleep schedule depends on you. He refuses to sleep unless you're already in the house. He doesn't like the feeling of sleeping when he doesn't know you're safe. You'll find him waiting for you on the porch.
👾 Prefers to sleep on the side of the bed where the sun doesn't shine.
👾 Immediately feels it when you get out of the bed. And he wakes up immediately, groggy and needing a few minutes to register where he is. Even if you're just going to get a glass of water, Sebastian would wake up and ask where you're going.
Shane:
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🐣 This man says good night to all the chickens in your coop before he goes to bed, I decided.
🐣 He used to get little to no hours of sleep but after moving in with you, he tries to get enough sleep as possible.
🐣 Hugs you in his sleep, all the time.
🐣 He wakes up the same moment you do, sometimes earlier. He gave himself the job to take care of your farm animals so you don't have to work too hard. So he wakes early to get the job done as soon as possible to spend breakfast with you.
🐣 My brother in Yoba, he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack. You would sometimes catch him in the middle of drinking cows milk straight out of the bottle in front of the open fridge.
6K notes · View notes
lixie-phoria · 8 months
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↳ ♡₊˚. rest please ꒱
9th!member reader falling sick from overwork and stress
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requested - yes // Would you be able to possibly do a skz x ninth reader where she’s not feeling well and like throws up everywhere, and chan and the members help her though her not feeling well then specifically chan?
gn!reader x ot8 // warnings - reader is overworked, faints, mentions of diets, reader throws up (lmk if I missed anything!)
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there is only one bang chan. you're sure of it. but as you stand up from the floor of the dance room, you see double images of your leader looking at you in confusion.
"yn?"
his voice resonates through your head, like an echo from someplace far, concern woven through his urgency.
you should probably reply to him, right?
"yn? can you hear me?"
when he steps forward, the world shifts. a searing pain runs across your head, like a red hot spike drilling into your skull.
"wha-"
you see it happen in the mirror - your figure collapsing onto the ground, jeongin's panicked yell, and the thud that follows immediately after before everything goes black.
it was just the three of you in the practice room that day, the others too busy with vocal training or recording or filming. it was comeback season, and to top things off your solo project was nearing too, closely following the release of your group album. and to say that you were overworked was an understatement. you don't remember the last time you slept for longer than an hour.
your days revolved around practice, recording, photo shoots, diets, promotions, and what not. this was busiest you have ever been, and it was slowly starting to show.
you register a dull pain in your upper arm and the throbbing of your head as you blink up at the bright ceiling lights glaring at you. you're covered in sweat, lying on the couch with your head awkwardly propped up against it's arm rest.
"she's up!" someone shouts as your senses return to you slowly. you're still in the dance room, but everything feels stuffy. someone is pressing an ice pack against your forehead.
"yn you scared us!"
all the members seem to have assembled in the dance room, crowding over your figure.
"what happened?" your voice is hoarse and your head feels groggy as you sit up, leaning away from felix as he tries to push you back down.
"you fainted! you were out for nearly fifteen minutes!"
"what?"
"yeah. scared the life out of chan hyung," jeongin adds.
"of course she did! do you know how worried we were?"
you feel mortified. you can't believe you fainted in the middle of practice.
"are you ok? does anything hurt? you fell pretty hard."
you shake your head - no. of course, the pounding in your head was getting worse and you were sure you bruised your arm but you weren't going to tell them that. being the maknae meant they already babied you a lot. there was no way you would admit how sick you felt.
"alright good. let's leave then."
"leave?" you stare at chan in confusion as he goes to unplug his phone from the speaker.
"yeah. you don't think we're going to let you dance after this, right?"
your eye twitches in mild annoyance as you listen to him speak so matter of factly.
"how come i don't have a say in this?"
"because the last time we let you have your say, you passed out."
"i'm ok! i don't need a break," you hiss, eyes narrowing as chan turns to look at you exasperated.
"yn-"
"i passed out, so what? big deal! you can't just call off practice when we have an album coming out!"
your voice escalates as you snap, and the others look at you in shock.
"yn calm down-"
"stop asking me to calm down!"
you don't know where the burst of annoyance was coming from, but it was strong and red hot, urging you to take it out on your members.
"i'm fine! stop treating me like a baby!"
you push away felix's hand from your shoulder, standing up to prove your point.
but that was a big mistake.
an ugly feeling immediately rises up your chest, slithering through your throat as the world tilts again and the lights blink at you.
"fuck."
you were far from fine, and that is the last thing you register before pushing past lee know and han, running out of the room and to the nearest washroom you can find, heaving your insides out.
it's terrible, kneeling on the ground as your head pounds worse than ever and flashes fill your vision.
"yn!"
you distantly register chan's panicked voice as he skids into your cubical, wasting no time in kneeling down right beside you, pulling your hair up into a makeshift pony.
"i need you to breath, ynnie. let it all out," he whispers softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down you back as your body tembles from the gags.
a small part of you wonders what chan is doing in the washroom, before realizing that in your hurry you probably ran into the common staff bathroom.
"are you feeling better?"
chan's hands hover behind your back as you weakly get to your feet, mustering the energy to pull the flush and rinse your mouth with water.
you can do nothing but nod, slumping against him as you exit the bathroom, and his hands immediately clasp your waist, holding you up.
"i'm so sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes as you let him guide you to wherever he decided was best.
"it's not your fault."
"i shouldn't have yelled at you."
"it's ok, yn. we all have our bad days."
you feel the cold breeze on your face as you open your eyes to see he's walking you out of the building's back door, with your manager waiting with the car.
"if I take you to the dorms will you please rest?"
your brain wants to refuse. you need to perfect your choreography. you don't have time for rest.
but your body is an entirely different story. you can barely walk or see straight.
"ok."
your voice is small, and chan immediately knows you're reluctant.
you hear him sigh softly as he helps you into the car before climbing in himself.
"ynnie, please rest. or you'll get worse and might not recover until the release day. wouldn't that be worse?"
he does have a point.
"and taking a break is okay. you're doing so well, you don't have to push yourself when there's nothing you're lacking in."
he ruffles your hair softly as you lean into the seat.
"thank you."
"don't thank me when I didn't even realise how overworked you were until you literally collapsed!"
you laugh softly, slightly leaning down to rest your head against his shoulder.
"don't blame your-"
you're cut off when Chan's ringtone blares into the silence and he jumps slightly, fishing out the device from his pocket.
"fuck."
"what's wrong?" You turn to look at his steadily paling face.
"I forgot to tell the others you're okay and I'm taking you back to the dorms."
"shit," you agree, wincing as chan hesitantly slides the accept button.
"hello...?"
"YAH WHERE ARE YOU BOTH WE'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE BUILDING FOR THE PAST 10 MINUTES IS YN OKAY?"
lee know is loud, and chan has to lean away from his phone as the second oldest's voice comes out loud enough as though he's on speaker.
"minho-ah I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you guys. She's okay now we're going to the dorms."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FORGOT?"
you sigh before taking the phone from chan as his wince deepens.
"I'm okay. I'm so sorry for worrying you but please calm down."
the change in lee know's voice is so immediate it earns a snort from chan.
"oh yn, of course! Please take care, I'll bring back some soup and ramen for you when we come back from practice."
"thank you! Now please stop worrying."
you hand back chan his phone as he flashes you a grateful smile.
"i hope he brings me back ramen and soup too."
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©lixie-phoria, 2024
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subbmissivesuccubus · 2 months
Text
Rut
Summary: The Hero is in heat thanks to his quirk and you, being a good wife, decide to help him through it. Unfortunately for you, you severely underestimated just how difficult ‘helping’ him would be.
A/N: Another Patreon request! I don't watch MHA but I always loved Hawks design so this was fun to write!
Disclaimer : Hawks X Fem reader. Overstimulation. Marathon sex. Rut.
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“Baby- baby wait- fuck- don’t come closer!”
You froze, your hand stilled on the doorknob, about to open said door before you heard your husband call out to you from behind it.
“Keigo, what’s wrong?” you asked, listening to his wishes for the moment, “Did something happen? Are you hurt?!”
You felt your heartbeat fasten a bit, your mind conjuring up a multitude of scenarios. Being a Hero was no joke and you couldn’t count the many nights where you sat glued to the TV, heart pounding as you wondered if your husband was coming home that night alive.
“I- I’m fine baby. I’m not hurt.” He called out, making you sigh with relief, “but really- I can’t explain it but- I- I need to be alone.”
“Keigo, I love you and I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable.” You said, “but I am not leaving until I see you and make sure you’re ok for myself. I’m opening the door!”
“No- wai-“
But before he could get the word out, you pulled the handle and pushed the door open, eyes widening as you walked into…uh…
A huge mess of a room. The sheets were all pulled out and thrown around, the pillows were ripped up with feathers all over the bed. Your closet doors were thrown open and your clothes were all taken out, including your undergarments. On the bed, in the middle of all of the mess, was your husband, seemingly buried under a giant pile of your clothes. His usually styled hair was all over the place, adding onto the crazed look in his eyes and the flushed face. He was sweating profusely, hair matted onto his forehead, his eyebrows furrowed with an expression on his face that looked like he was in pain. His wings were wrapped around himself, feather shivering underneath the clothes.
“Fuck…” he cursed as he saw you, tossing his head back against the pillow made of your clothes.
“…What’s going on?” you asked, truly confused. You husband groaned loudly from under his cocoon, burying his head farther down the pile until you couldn’t even see him anymore, just his wings.
“…I’m in a rut.” He finally said, his voice muffled.
“What was that?”
“A. Rut.” He repeated louder.
“You mean…like…” you said, having heard the phrase before, “Like mating season?”
Hawks growled even louder, “Yes- fuck- my body is on overdrive and my dick is constantly hard. It sucks! I tried to calm myself down by jerking off and nesting with your clothes but- fuck me- it isn’t working.”
“So that’s what this is…” you said, at least getting an answer about the mess, “I’ve never seen you like this before. Is this the first time it’s happening?”
“…No. It happens every year.”
“What?! How have I never noticed it?”
“Because…I send you away. I buy you vacations to g-get you out of the house. S-Speaking of which- why are you back so early?! Your trip should have ended n-next week!”
“My dad fell sick so we had to cut things short.” You explained, wondering why you never questioned Keigo’s generosity in sending you on trips during the same time every year, “I can’t believe you kept this from me!”
“I’m sorry baby but-“ he hissed as his body shivered for no reason, “The rut can be…a lot to handle. My body just wants to fuck and fuck and fuck until my bones give out! It’s not pretty…”
“Then why do you not want me here?” you asked, still keeping your distance as you didn’t want to overwhelm your man, “I could help!”
That finally got him to push his head out of his wings enough for him to give you a look that said ‘you can’t be serious’. “Baby- you pass out after three rounds. There’s no way you can handle me when I’m like this.”
You gasped, an offended hand on your chest, “That’s not true- I mean- yes maybe- but my husband is in pain! What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t even try?”
Before he could even say anything, you grabbed your coat and shrugged it off of you, making him gasp as the fabric fell to the ground. You were just about to pull your dress off when Keigo broke out of his cocoon and surged forward so fast you could barely process it. He gripped you by the collar and pulled you towards him, the man still kneeling on the bed but even so, his face was in line with yours.
“You really- really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He growled, looking more animalistic than you’ve ever seen him. You gulped as you felt his hot breath fan your face, the look in his eyes making you shiver. You sex life was perfectly fine and quite satisfying but even through your years long relationship, you’d never seen him have this look- this ferocity- this…desperation in his eyes.
You felt your pussy quiver already, Keigo hissing as he saw your pupils dilate.
“I’m serious!” he said, grunting as he could smell the heat off of you, trying his best to not jump you and rip your clothes off, “This won’t be normal. I’ll go round after round- constantly fucking you and cumming inside you- You can beg me to stop but once I start- there’s no stopping.”
You gulped, hands going back to your dress to start unravelling it.
“Baby- take this seriously!” Keigo snapped, frustrated, “I know you think it’s all fun and games but- but-“
His thought trailed off as you managed to push your dress off of your shoulders, the fabric falling in a heap on the floor, leaving you clad in your underwear.
“…Fuck it.”
You squealed as your husband grabbed you by the hips, picking you up enough to turn around and throw you onto the bed, making you crash into your pile of clothing. You licked your lips as he all but pounced on you, the man making work of his pants as he pressed his lips against your, stealing your breath away.
This was going to be a long night~
~~~~~
Slurp “Ah baby-“ Mwah schuck shuck “Just like that- fuck me- keep pumping that cock- mmmph~”
You gasped as Keigo latched onto your nipple mercilessly, suckling on you like a baby as he lied down on the bed, torso supported on your lap, wings and all. Your left hand pumped his hard member as he suckled on you, pre-cum dripping down it like a faucet, making his dick so slick- it was like you had lathered it with lube.
His cock was hot and needy, the tip so red you wondered if it hurt. He was panting against you like a dog in heat- but it was rather a bird in heat. Your nipple was slick with saliva, drool dripping down the curve of your tit. He was sucking on your sensitive bud so hard it took your breath away, you bare pussy gushing at his moans.
Both of you were stark naked, clothes tossed all over the place and in definite need of a wash once this was over. Your spine shivered as Keigo moaned against your nipple, biting down on it gently when your hand paid special attention to the tip of his cock.
“Babe- fuck- gonna cum!”
“Wh- already?” you asked, surprised. It wasn’t even five minutes since you got your hands on him. He groaned in frustration against you, giving your nipple another bite before he simply snuggled his face between your tits, sighing happily as he felt the weight of them against him.
“I’ll cum fast but- mmph- I’ll cum a lot- oh fuck- yes- yes- cumming- cumming!”
With a shout, Hawks arched his back as he climaxed, making you gasp as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his tip. Your eyes widened at the amount, a seemingly never-ending stream of white ejaculated out of his cock and onto your hands, coating your fingers. Some of his cum spurt out with such force it stained his chest and a bit of his chin. He moaned loudly- shamelessly as he shivered from the pleasure, his balls throbbing from each pump of his cum.
Eventually, he relaxed a bit, taking in deep breaths as he snuggled his face harder against your breasts, a happy grin on his face. You blinked as you pulled you hand away from his cock, gulping at the sheer amount of cum on your fingers. Your whole hand was covered, webs of cum created as your spread your fingers apart. It looked like twice- maybe even thrice the amount of semen your husband would usually let out when he came.
“…The tissues are in the bedside drawer.” Keigo said, smirking at your shocked expression and getting off of you long enough for you to get the box of tissues and wipe your hand clean.
“Let’s go again.” He demanded, his hand groping at his still hard cock, looking at you like you were her prey, “I want to taste that pussy.”
~~~~~
“Ah- Ah- fuck- honey- right there!”
Hawks moaned against you, shaking his head from left to right, tongue dragging across every inch of your sopping cunt, “Here? Yeah?”
He gulped down your juices like he was a man dying of thirst, his hand in between his legs as he jerked off. Suckling on your nipples and getting a handjob was amazing- but he could never deny himself the pleasure of lapping at your cunt while he touched himself. It was one of his favourite hobbies.
“God- I love this pussy- love this pussssy so much~” he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sealed his slick lips around your clit and gave it a toe-curling suck, your cries tuned out over the sound of him slobbering all over you. It was messy and sloppy but oh so good! You arched your back, your hands tangled in his hair and you wondered if you wanted to push him away or pull him in even more. The sloppy sound of him sucking you up and drinking your juices made your face turn so red, it reached your ears, the noises and moans leaving your mans mouth making your heart rate increase.
Was he in heat or was it you?
Keigo stuck his tongue out lewdly and started flicking at your clit, pumping his cock in time with every movement, your little bud at his mercy. His feathers shook with the force of his hand, the man moaning against your clit and making your ears ring from the sensation. He once again opened his mouth wide before he took your whole pussy in his mouth, making out with her like he does with you.
“Keigoooo- oh God- s-slow down!” you whined, trembling underneath his merciless actions. He shook his head no against you, once again dragging his tongue all over you. He sucked your pussy lips into his mouth for a second before he said:
“No stopping. No slowing down. Now- cum in my mouth.”
~~~~~
“Fuuuck!” Keigo gasped as he couldn’t control his hips as he started pumping into your mouth, “Take it- take it- take my fucking cock!”
You gagged around your husband’s member, his dick pumping in and out of your throat, fucking it like it was your cunt. Having you lying on your back with your head leaning over the edge, you felt his balls clap against your forehead as Keigo fucked into your face, blood rushing to your head. The position gave you no choice but to take it- saliva and spittle leaving your mouth and dripping upwards. Your pussy quivered from the ghost of your orgasm, the sensation of his tongue on your slit still lingering and the warmth of the semen he splashed over your cunt making you tingle. You were stained with copious amounts of his seed, his second orgasm just as explosive as the first one and your whole pussy was covered in white.
It was only a matter of time before it was pumped inside.
Gawk Gawk gawk- hah- slurp- slurp- gawk
“Fuck baby- I can see my cock- fuuuck- imprint on your throat! It’s so hot!”
You could only imagine the view. Your tits bouncing up and down with the force of his thrusting- your neck stretched to accommodate the position which made it more evident when the bulge of his member showed up. He hissed as his hands went to your chest, squeezing your jugs and using them as leverage to pump faster against you.
“Y-You ok baby?” he asked, mind dizzy from the pleasure, surprised that he was still able to string sentenced together, “You can take it- ah- right?”
You gurgled around his cock, the vibrations making his knees buckle as he picked up the pace. Drool coated his balls, his sack slapping against your face harder as he mercilessly pumped into you, chasing his pleasure. You squealed as he suddenly pushed himself as deep as he could go and stayed there, your nose pressing against his nuts as his hands left your tits to instead reach for your legs. Your back arched off the bed, eyes watering as his cock was pushed impossibly deep, your fingers gripping the sheets below you tightly as he spread your knees apart, baring him your cum stained pussy. You squealed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hand slipped between your legs, fingers gliding between your pussy lips as he sought out your dripping hole.
“Ah- fuck baby- let me- mmmph- stretch this cunt out for my cock~”
~~~~~
Plap plap plap plap plap
  Your fingers dug into the skin of Keigos back- well- as much as you could considering the wings sprouting from his back. Said wings were slightly flapping, almost helping him thrust into your cunt with as much force as possible. Legs wrapped around his waist, your moans were swallowed by his tongue down your throat, your husbands’ eyes open and drinking in your fucked out expression even as he pounded you.
His balls clapped against your ass as his fat, throbbing cock pumped in and out of you, the drag of his veiny member against the ribbed texture of your cunt making both of you groan from the pleasure. You gasped as you broke the kiss, turning you head away so you could get a second to catch your breath. You felt him licking your skin to occupy his mouth, grateful that he was giving you a moment to collect yourself even as his tongue dragged over your cheek and upto your ear. You shivered as he ran his tongue along your ear before sticking it inside, the sensation making your whole body shudder.
After swallowing his cum (to the best of your abilities) and cumming around his fingers, Keigo didn’t give you even a second before he changed positions, spreading your legs so he could slide his cock inside your poor, sensitive pussy. His hips moved like a machine, rutting into you like it was the last thing he’d do. You gasped as the curve of his cock constantly hit your special spot each time he thrust in, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sensation.
…maybe you did bite off more than you could chew.
~~~~~
“Haa-aa-aawks!” you called out, voice jumping from the force of his thrusting. He simply grunted in response; his cock somehow still rock hard as he took you from behind. The cum he had dumped into your pussy was leaking out and staining the sheets, but he didn’t really care. He was going to pump another load into you afterall.
“B-Break- fuck- I need a b-break!” you pleaded, ass clapping back against his hips, his mouth watering at the ripple of your plush skin.
“No way.” He growled, raising a hand and smacking your ass cheek, loving your squeal as he left a handprint behind, “I warned you. We’re not fucking stopping!”
Your hands couldn’t hold you up anymore, elbows giving in as your torso fell to the mattress, leaving you face down, ass up. You panted against the pillow as the position somehow drove his cock deeper inside you, his cum staining your thighs and his balls. His cock was practically covered in white, Keigo churning up the semen inside of you and it was so filthy, it made your head spin.
“Fuck- gonna cum baby!” he cried out as he felt his balls tighten, the familiar sensation of an oncoming orgasm making his body tingle, “Pump this pussy with my seed- let’s get you pregnant, ok?”
You simply moaned against the pillow; your noises muffled by the fabric as tears left your eyes. Your eyes widened and you shrieked as Keigo leaned over you and slid his hand down to your cunt, his fingers easily finding your clit.
“Ah- ah- Kei- fuck!” you panted against the pillow, your body going into overdrive as he started swiping at your sensitive, swollen bud, “too much- too- ah- fuck!”
The two of you climaxed simultaneously, the familiar sensation of your husband pumping copious amounts of cum inside you pushed you to your orgasm, your pussy squirting and spraying liquid all over the mattress.
You collapsed flat on the bed, eyes rolled to the back of your head as your pussy throbbed, Keigos’ cum seeping out of you like a flood. You didn’t need to look back to know he was still hard and ready to go again.
“…Spread your legs. I need to eat out your asshole.”
“Wh- Keigo- eep!”
You squealed as the man gripped onto your ass cheeks before spreading them apart, exposing your puckered rim to him before he surged forward, planting his face right between your cheeks. You babbled at he started greedily lapping at your hole, shamelessly moaning as he tasted you. You shrieked, body once again getting overstimulated as his ran his tongue over your rim. The two of you dabbled in a bit of anal over the years but never in such a…desperate manner.
He smacked your ass before he shook his head between your cheeks, motorboating you butt as he played with you like a toy, his cock hard and leaking between his legs.
You tried to remember where you kept the lube.
~~~~~
The sun was up.
Fuck.
The sun was rising.
And you two were still having sex.
Well, Hawks was. You passed out during the middle of things and you had given him permission to use you even after you blacked out. Your body really couldn’t take any more orgasms and it shut down at some point.
You awoke with a start, several sensations hitting you all at once, making your head spin. You were lying on top of Keigo, your head nestled against his neck as he pumped his hips up and into you. You gasped as you felt the burn of his cock in your ass, his thick member stretching out your barely used hole. The glide was significantly easier than the first time he fucked your ass tonight thanks to all the cum lubing you up.
“L-Last one baby!” Keigo panted, somehow looking stunning even through the many hours of sex and orgasms, “Ready? Yeah? Want my cum?”
“H-Hurry up…” you groaned, your body still weak and tingly from when you passed out. You had lost count of the number of times you came as well as the number of times Keigo came. You stopped counting after six. Your body was fucked within an inch of its life and you had no more energy and so, you simply lied on top of him like a ragdoll, panting against his neck as he embraced you tightly. His hips bucked up into you, his thighs flexing deliciously as he chased his pleasure.
“Cumming- fuck- cumming!!”
With a final shout, his head tossing back and eyes rolling to the back of his head, Hawks came one more time. You mewled as his seed filled you up but you noted that it was significantly less that what you had endured all night. You felt his chest deflate, like a load was taken off of his shoulders (and his balls), the man finally relaxing.
“Fuuuck…” he said, gently pulling his cock out of you and thankfully, he was now soft, “That was…insane…”.
You nodded against him, grimacing as you finally got a second to note the condition of your body, i.e. covered in sweat and cum and stuffed full of semen that was continuously leaking out of you.
“Y-You ok baby?” Keigo asked and you couldn’t help but smile. He was clearly trying to fight sleep, his rut having left him and rendering him exhausted yet satisfied, no longer tormented by the heat.
“I’ll be ok.” You said, kissing his neck, “…But no sex for a month. I think I almost died.”
You felt his chuckle rumble in his chest, “I warned you, baby bird.”
“Mmmm. You did.”
“Speaking of baby, you’re probably knocked up, right?”
“…Probably.”
“…Nice.”
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glitterycvm · 4 months
Text
"I'D UNDERSTAND "
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[•~college!au, aged!up kirshima x reader~•]fluff/slight angst/smut
[•~synopsis: you find out your boyfriend was just using you, don't worry ejiro will help you forget all about that~•]
[•~a/n: inspired by a situation my friend was js in, send requests!!~•]
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you couldn't believe it. after all that time? all those memories you two had together. it was all for nothing.
you and your (ex) boyfriend had been dating for a couple weeks. even though it was merely a couple weeks, you were convinced that he was the love of your life. you knew that he was the one. or at least you thought so-
gradually things got distant, he stopped making an effort overall, while you put in everything you had. you were confused and frustrated. you didn't do anything to him? so what was going on?...
then earlier this afternoon, you were catching up on some nearly-late homework assignments. as you scribbled your way through some equations a light buzz vibrated against your thigh.
curiously, you took out your phone and glanced over at the notification. you had got a message from your boyfriend.
you open his chats eagerly, for once he started a conversation with you. but your moment of glee soon came to an abrupt end as you read the first couple words.
"y/n. we need to break up"
you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. your stomach dropped making the guilty and panicky feeling overtake your senses even more.
you continue reading the paragraph, each word making that sick feeling grow in you. you couldn't believe that this was happening. it had to be a nightmare.
"tbh i was desperate for a prom date cs all my friends going had one and i didn't wanna be left out and at that point they were making fun of me so yea i shoulda js told the truth from the start instead of lying"
emotions flooded your mind. betrayal. disappointment. anger. were just to name a few. you were at a loss for words. you thought he actually loved you. he treated you better than any other guy you were previously with. and you get played?
you drop your phone, tears flooding your eyes as you fall onto your bed, head buried in the pillow below you. the only thing you felt like doing now was to cry your eyes out dry. sob until you got better if that was possible anymore. you felt stupid.
teardrops dampened the pillowcase below you face as you say there in sorrow. but your moment of mourning was soon interrupted by a series of knocks. a familiar voice following.
"y/n? you left your textbooks in the library-"
you quickly fix yourself up, taking in a couple deep breaths and wiping the tears off your cheeks. you swiftly get up from your bed, praying that the faint pink tint plastered all over your face wasn't too obvious.
your hand curls over the doorknob and you open the door slowly. being greeted with a familiar red haired boy. eijiro kirishima, your best friend. one of his arms holding up a stack of books, while the other was shoved in his jacket pocket.
"h-hey eijiro... thanks for bringing me these" you whispered, hiding your shaky rattled voice. eijiro looked down at you with a small frown. "you okay, y/n?" he asks, handing you the books, worry and concern evident in his tone.
those three words were all it took to make you crack. you erupted back into that familiar sorrow, eyes overfilling with water.
you then feel strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a warm and comforting embrace. without any thought you cry into his chest, a spot in his hoodie getting soaked.
a hand strokes your back softly as his soothing voice whispers in your ear "let it out, it's all gonna be okay y/n, I promise..." you hug him back even tighter, too lost in your emotions.
a couple moments pass before eijiro pulls away for a quick moment, arms still wrapped around you.
"you wanna tell me what's wrong?..."
you explain to kirishima everything that had just happened. he knew about this boyfriend you had and wasn't too trusting of him to begin with. he has a gut feeling something was off but he didn't want to burst your bubble so he kept quiet.
at least that's what he told himself. in actuality he couldn't tell if he was just jealous of him or if he actually had a guy feeling. something eijiro had never told you was that he had the biggest crush on you ever since you two had met. and every time you mentioned or introduced him to a new guy the only thing he could think of was how much better he was.
this moment was no different either. you told him in the past about how your boyfriend was treating you. from all the dry and lackluster conversations to the lack of attention. he heard it all. and he tried his best to comfort you, to try to look out for the both of you. when in reality he wanted you all for himself. he wanted to tell you how much of a better boyfriend he could be.
his blood boiled and his heart was full of fury. "that is so messed up." he grumbled arm wrapped around one of your shoulders as he held you in close, inhaling tye sweet scent of your shampoo.
"I know... im so tired of this ejiro. am I really that unlovable?.." you ask, glancing back up at the red haired male, eyelashes decorated with tiny teardrops. kirishima feels his cheeks reddened and blush as he thinks carefully about his reply. he could ruin your friendship if this doesn't go his way. but if it does workout, his dreams will come true. a moment passes before he replies.
"y/n, honestly I can't even hide this anymore from you. I love you. I mean it I swear. it drives me mad seeing you let these guys take advantage of you like this, you're too pretty and perfect to be treated like this. please- let me show you how good I could treat you-"
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and that's how it all started. you were laid down on your back, thighs pushed all the way to your chest as kirishima towered over you.
"relax for me mamas... ima make you feel so good..." he cooes into your ear, hand caressing your cheek. you listen to him and let go of all the tension you were holding in, a breathy exhale leaving your lips.
kirishima teases his tip in between your fold and clit, making the both of you let out a small moan. soon enough he gently pushes himself in, groaning at the way your wet walls clam down on his length. you grip the bedsheets next to you as the feeling of the pleasureable yet painful stretch engulfs your senses.
"you okay princess? can I start?..." he asks, checking in for any signs of discomfort on your face. it took everything in him to not start moving and pound the life out of you, he had fantasized about this moment since forever and it was finally in his hands.
you nod, and kirishima starts moving at a slow pace, making sure you were okay, after all the last thing he would ever want to do, is to hurt you. but soon enough he picks up the pace gradually, making you cry out for more. "your takin it so well for me mamas..." he praises, his hips bucking into your cunt even quicker.
"f-fuck she was made for me hm? bet that lameass boyfriend couldn't get ya like this" he mumbles, pointing your chin down to make sure you maintain eye contact with him.
he begins to get rougher, hands quickly shifting your legs from pressed against your torso to now your calves on his shoulders. the new position made him ram into that spongy spot, making your moans even louder.
it all felt so good, from the way his cock was now even deeper in you, the way his thrust became harsh and passionate you could only shut your eyes from the ecstasy.
"don't close your eyes on me mama, keep them open or I'll stop." he commands, drilling into your hole even faster now, the sound of skin slapping follow suit. you open your eyes, listening to his warning. he smirks and whispers down into your ear "good girl... you're so obedient for me mamas" he grins.
he pounds into you harshly, faint mumbles of " so-so sorry mamas... can't hold back anymore" as he drills into you, his grip on your hips was sure to leave a purplish bruise the next morning.
you feel the familiar know in your stomach tighten. "m'so close eijiro please!-" you mewl. "cmon baby... tell me who fucks you better? me or him?" he teases. "y-you do..." you mutter out, somewhat inaudible. he lightly slaps your cheek "the fuck was that?. tell me who the fuck you belong to-" he grunts out. "y-you, I only belong to you eijiro-" you cry out
"good girl, listenin to me so well..." eijiro grins and places a hand on your bud, digits rubbing quick circles all over it. bringing you over the edge.
your back arches and your thighs tremble. you let a loud moan as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. the sight alone was enough to make kirishima reach his own high. he pulls out and begins to stroke his cock, letting out pretty groans as his lips part slightly.
long ropes of cum decorate your stomach as you both pant out heavily. you close your eyes, as you catch your breath. while you do so kirishima notices your phone on the other side of the bed, open.
he grabs it quickly without you noticing and snaps a quick photo. hurriedly tapping on your exes icon and sending him the photo.
"kinda sad that you let such a pretty girl like her go. it's okay i'd understand, you didn't deserve her anyways"
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646 notes · View notes
skzstannie · 9 months
Text
"Did you know?"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital
summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason
A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!
Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
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Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.
This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.
"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.
"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.
"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.
"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."
You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.
Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.
Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.
You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.
"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"
"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.
You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.
Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?
Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.
You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."
Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.
You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.
While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.
You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.
Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.
You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.
Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.
You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.
Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.
"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.
You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.
"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.
"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.
You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.
You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.
You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.
The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.
You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.
The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.
You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.
"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"
"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.
You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.
"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.
"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.
"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."
After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.
Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.
Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.
In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.
Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.
The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.
Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.
Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.
You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.
You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.
"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.
"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.
"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"
Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.
Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.
You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.
10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.
Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.
5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.
You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.
All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.
Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.
The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.
Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.
"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.
"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.
"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.
Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.
"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.
Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."
You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.
The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.
The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.
You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.
"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"
You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.
The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.
You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"
"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."
You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"
"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.
"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.
The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.
Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"
"Get out," you say, your voice tense.
His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"
"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"
"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.
"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."
His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."
He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?
The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.
You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.
After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.
Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.
You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.
"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."
Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.
"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."
You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"
"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."
Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.
They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.
You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.
Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.
They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.
They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."
All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."
"Yea, but-"
"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."
"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.
"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.
Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.
You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
~ ~ ~
Part 2
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rlimagi · 2 months
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Life was Sweet
Pairings: Queen of Hearts x Reader
Request: hi!! could i request the queen of hearts x mad hatter!reader, whos known her since before the prank, and still stuck around with her because theyre loyal. and theyre always trying to help her open up and have a little fun, so she can be her true self again!
Genre: Fluff
Note: it was kinda hard to write for the Queen of Hearts as only her mean side was shown but I truly believe that Bridget is still in there somewhere.
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You had been by The Queen of Heart’s side even before she was The Queen of Hearts. Your best friend used to be Bridget, one of the sweetest princess in Merlin academy.
But now, in everyone else’s eyes, she was the cruelest Queen there had ever been. ‘Off with their heads’ rolls down her tongue as natural as walking for a normal person.
Any normal human would turn their backs against the Queen once they knew it was too late for her to be the sweet Bridget again, but you were never normal.
“Bridget, you’ve gotta stop being so harsh on Red.” You tried to reason with the Queen as she walked around your room and you were starting to feel dizzy.
It was midnight when a sudden explosion bursted your doors open, revealing the Queen of Hearts. Then 2 hours later, she was still in your room complaining about her daughter while touching and messing up your precious stuff.
“I told you to address me by my title!” The Queen glared at you but you chose to ignore her fiery gaze, no matter how much she threatened to chop your head off you knew she would never find the heart to do so. No matter how small it became. “And last time I checked, she is my daughter! Not yours!”
“She might as well be, I helped raise her!” You shouted, startling Bridget and even yourself at the outburst. You muttered an apology before taking a sip of focus potion to wake you up fully. You were so out of it after only getting 2 hours of sleep.
“Whatever, the point is she’s only a kid, she’s in the phase where she needs to figure out who she is. And who she is definitely isn’t you.” You slowly approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder In comfort while also trying to knock some sense into her.
“Remember when we were teenagers and all the fun we had? Your parents were never as controlling as you are with Red. Maybe we should bake cakes together again like the good old days!”
“Fun? I remember how much fun they all had when I was weak, gullible, and humiliated! Luckily you were sick or you might as well be dead to me like everyone else that was there!” The Queen exclaimed, her hands laid on a knife you were heating up earlier.
Your heart sunk deeper at the reminder of the day when your lives changed forever. You and Bridget had always been friends, since babies. Your parents practically raised you both together as both of your Kingdoms were united.
Ella came in view when you and Bridget arrived at Merlin academy, in a way she was her own person but she just felt like one of you guys so it wasn’t surprising how quickly the three of you got along.
Your friendship was great, well until one fateful day when everything changed. For worse.
The three of you planned to go to the dance together seeing as Bridget badly wanted to go, you and Ella never really liked those things but agreed to go anyways, for Bridget.
Just a day before the night of the dance, you had gotten terribly sick and chose to stay in your shared dormitory with Bridget. Your friends wanted to stay and look after you but you didn’t want to ruin their fun, especially Ella after you overheard Prince Charming talking about asking her out to dance.
If only you knew the outcome, you would’ve begged them not to leave your side.
A few hours after the night started, you were woken up by loud noises wandering around your dorm. You couldn’t make out who it was as you were too sick to move, but you knew it was Bridget from the second she mumbled about getting revenge of some sort.
But that was it, after that night, you weren’t getting any better so your parents took you back home to let the family doctor take care of you.
When you became healthy enough to go back to school, everything changed. Everyone avoided Bridget as if she was a plague, even Ella. And it pained you that you never asked what really happened, all you knew was that you’ll be by Bridget’s side no matter what.
So when King Beast and Queen Belle decided to unite all the Kingdoms, only yours and Bridget’s Kingdom rejected their peace offering. And as a result, your Kingdom and hers were forever blocked from ever going out of your Kingdom’s land.
“Bridget! Are you alright?” You immediately dropped all your belongings and rushed to her aid. The Queen flinched in pain when you accidentally pressed on her wound, “Sorry!”
You gently pulled her to sit down on a chair before using your free hand to grab one of your healing potions. “This is going to stink for a while. Are you okay?” you gently held her hand before looking up, right into her eyes. The same eyes you would get lost in every time you looked, and she looked at you the same way.
Suddenly it was like she was a teenage girl again, when life was sweet. Remembering the sparks that would go off whenever you held her hands as you placed on a bandage when she accidentally burnt herself while you guys were on your weekly baking date. The way you would hold her so warmly that all her senses would go off and all she wanted to do was be in your arms forever.
The feelings she had that got locked up when she became the Queen of Hearts, what she didn’t know was that she had already taken yours and you had forgotten it too.
You both came back to your senses when the sound of a thunder was heard, immediately moving apart from each other. You dropped her hand in panic and she was starting to miss that feeling. And she didn’t like feeling that feeling one bit.
“Oh, umm…do you want to bake a cake together? Unless you want cookies or cupcakes or both!” Your question was more like a demand since you gave her no chance to speak, grabbing her hands while ignoring the old butterflies that had finally grew wings again.
“We’re going to make cookies!” You claimed once you and Bridget arrived at your kitchen, you usually prefer for your bakers to make whatever you desire but baking it yourself just felt perfect at this time around.
The whole situation felt awkward at first, you weren’t used to being the one talking. Bridget was usually the one who starts and ends the conversations, mostly ranting about problems in her own Kingdom and her daughter.
But ever since that moment you shared, she had been quiet and weird, it was like her body was there but she wasn’t quite herself. It wasn’t too bad since she actually did help with mixing up the ingredients. But you really hated feeling awkward around your best friend. You terribly wanted to break the ice, so you did.
“Oh, you got something there.” You slowly headed her way, reaching out near her face pretending to get a non existent thing off her face. “Right…there! Ah HAH!” you grinned as you threw flour to her way.
Bridget stayed still, at first you thought that that would be the end of your precious head but then you saw a smile grew on her face as she did the same back. “I’m not letting you get away so easily!”
After almost 17 years, you finally found a way to see old Bridget again. You really never appreciate the small moments until it is taken away from you.
“Game on, my Queen!”
Half an hour later and the whole kitchen was filled with flour, the room was basically whiter than Snow White herself. You and Bridget laughed all night before taking a break on the floor.
“Remember when we used to have those weekly baking dates and it would always end up with flour all over the place?” You reminisced of your younger days as you settled yourself down next to Bridget. Leaning on her shoulders gently, a habit of yours since long long ago.
“Your mother would get so disappointed and made us clean it ourselves but we still did it again. Of course I remember.” Bridget smiled but not like the smile she usually does when ordering guards to cut people’s head off, this was different, genuine, and for a moment you saw the same look she used to hold before everything changed.
The look that had you lost in time and all you could do was look at her like she was the only one who existed in your world.
“I love you.” You nervously blurted out. One of the things you hated the most since birth was hiding your own feelings, it was suffocating, especially since you were hiding from the person you practically spent your whole life with.
And for a moment, you thought she won’t feel the same way. After all, you guys never addressed the situationship you had going on. It was greatly pushed aside after all the problems Bridget faced after that sorrow night.
“You do?” The Queen’s eyes grew soft as she looked back at you, her hands gently caressing your face.
“I always have, and always will. I loved you since that day you defended me from those bullies even though they were twice your size, we were twelve. You were always the sweetest, even to people who never deserved it.” You chuckled, it was bittersweet but at least you and Bridget had always been by each other’s side, no matter what.
Even if, for the past 20 years you guys had to push aside your true feelings for each other.
“I planned to come clean about my feelings to you years ago but as you know, time loves to mess with u-“ your words were cut off when Bridget leaned in, using her finger to lift your chin up before pulling you in for a long much needed kiss.
The softness of her lips almost took your breath away. The longing and desperate feelings that had been built up were release as you melted into her hold.
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queenendless · 11 months
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😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷
A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.
Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.
But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.
All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
I hope you enjoy!
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Your throat feels raw.
Your nose feels stuffy.
And you kept coughing every few minutes.
You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.
But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.
The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.
"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.
Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.
"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"
In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.
You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.
That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.
Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.
"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.
In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.
The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.
"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.
"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.
"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.
You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.
You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.
"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."
°•○•°•○•°•○•°
Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.
Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.
The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.
"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"
"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.
"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."
Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"
Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.
So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.
"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.
"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.
"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.
"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."
"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.
"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.
Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"
"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.
"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.
Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"
"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"
"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.
"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.
"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.
"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."
"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.
"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.
"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.
"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.
"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.
"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.
"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.
"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."
"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.
"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.
"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.
"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.
"Y - You're w - welcome!"
Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.
Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.
You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.
But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.
The SatoSugu cure, indeed!
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