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Daily Danganronpa Fun Fact #308
In Salmon Mode, Monophanie, Monodam, and Monokid give Shuichi coins after being talked to, but Monodam has a 3% chance to get a special line. Getting this line gives more casino coins than the other Monokubs do.
Regular Lines
Special Line
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#danganronpa#monokubs#monodam#ive had this fact ready for MONTHS but didn’t want to post it without a screenshot… which took forever to get#so old home was connected to the first masterlist
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Alan Wake dies.
In this essay I will-
... actually try my hand at a relatively objective examination of and discussion about why Alan Wake 2 ending with Alan's death would, and would not, make sense. I even used proper capitalization for once to emphasize how serious I am /hj. This has been kickstarted by this post by @stuckinthedarkplace; lately I've been thinking a lot about how AW2 could possibly end, and I feel like this possibility should be talked about. So. Let's not pad this out any further.
Pro #1: Alan’s death would make for an excellent tragedy and/or further reinforce the concept of him dying a martyr if they make his death vital to defeat the antagonist for good (who- or whatever it might be). After a years-long torturous fight, the hero sacrifices himself in unwavering bravery to do one last thing for the greater good. A selfless act, ensuring that even if he can’t make it, his loved ones will. Something like that. Plus, I imagine the majority of us players would like to see him walk away from it all alive; taking this away from us might elicit a rather emotional response, which is what every storyteller wants, right?
Contra #1: All these aforementioned years might feel like they have been for nothing. The lengths Alan went to to fight, to persevere, to endure, to survive, for more than a decade – in vain, pointless. Remedy themselves have stated that Alan has “wished he had died many times” – but all this time he held on, not letting go of the fickle hope that he can come back, come home, to Alice, Barry, Sarah. Remedy making an effort to explain what Alan was up to, in Night Springs during the events of American Nightmare and during the setup and unfolding of AWE, and them securing all the rights to the IP for good back in 2019; Alan as a character seems a bit too big, too important to just kill.
Pro #2: Him dying would leave few loose ends. Alice has lived under the presumption that he died for a few years anyway, probably until Mr. Scratch showed up at her doorstep at least, but if we assume that he’ll be taken care of over the course of the game while Alan does not escape, then him biting the dust would be the next most logical option. Saga and Alex either finish their mission knowing they failed to take him in alive, or even be forced to abort it, maybe because of unforeseen complications or lack of results. Alan has been living in hell for so long, by dying he’d finally escape it. It would be over, and if other characters could be made aware of his definitive passing maybe they too could move on, find peace, be done with the nightmare.
Contra #2: Alan is Sam Lake’s baby. Would he really kill him off for good? I certainly don’t think it’s beyond him, at this point I think he could write anything and it would somehow fit, but... Alan is Sam’s baby. Sam has been fighting to bring him back for this entire time. Somehow I have my doubts he’d throw that away, throw him away. (cf. Contra #1.)
Pro #3: Alan has killed Casey in The Sudden Stop. If Sam killed Alan, his story would directly mirror Alan’s and Casey’s; this would add another excellent meta layer on top. Kill your darlings or something. Let’s hope Sam doesn’t get writer’s block and plan to travel to some cabin on a lake anytime soon.
Contra #3: It might feel cheap and unimaginative. It’s an ancient trope, almost older than It-Was-All-Just-A-Dream. Can’t figure out an ending? Don’t know where to take the story next? Looking for a straightforward way out? Kill the protagonist. Better yet, just kill everyone. Boom, job done. I’m exaggerating of course, but I speak from experience. Don’t look for my old fics.
Pro #4: The story of AW1 was, at its heart, about the creative process and a lot of the feelings and mental mechanisms behind it. Stories end, lives end. Death feels final. Inevitable. A dead writer at the end of the story... there’s a ring to it. (contradicts Contra #3.)
Contra #4: Remedy would make it harder for themselves to expand further on their connected universe, which they have said was their goal for the next project(s). At this point I imagine AW is a very precious asset for them. Granted, I’m sure they’d always find a way to expand anyway, this is Sam Lake we’re talking about but... I still doubt that it would feel quite right. I mean, hell, they used to call AW2 “project big fish”. That’s gotta count for something, right?
So. Which side are you on?
#i tried to keep this as neutral as possible but it’s probably not hard to guess my side#i want you to know that i called this file ''alan ded ye or no''#it's also shorter than i had thought. hm. happens#do you have more points for or against? throw them at me i wanna know. this is a masterlist#alan wake#alan wake 2#remedy games#remedy connected universe#games#ok now back to thinking about the hellish group project
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Lost Planet 2 propaganda: please play lost planet and get the ASS rating. Please. It’s a glorious experience. Also at one point you get to fight a bunch of giant dicks I can’t make this stuff up-
#i just enjoy the little things#i want to share my childhood with everyone#unfortunately steam has not optimized the weird xbox compatibility and its playing outdated on it#like its using games for windows live and you cant connect#and its locked behind premium on PlayStation#trying to hide my favorite game from people i wont stand it#i need to make a masterlist of all the great things about lost planet#you like grappling hooks? big crazy alien bugs? mechs? funny character emotes? a cinematic story??..#the story may not be like. a b i g thing but i think its pretty and has silly character interactions and lore#i dont really rember#games#gaming#lp2#lost planet#lost planet 2
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Older boyfriend Price who is absolutely DISTRAUGHT over the fact that you don’t care about marriage because you think he’s over it.
Note: this one has no smut but it has mentions of sex and sexual relations so interact at your own discretion.
Masterlist
“What the fuck do you mean by you don’t want to?” If Price had been any louder, anyone outside his car would’ve been able to hear him.
It had been a few months into your relationship with Price after almost a year of being friends with benefits. You weren’t sure how your arrangement changed over time but you were glad to be with him as he valued you a lot.
“I mean, think about it. You’re like, what? 40-“
“I’m 37, love”
“Right, yeah, I just think that it doesn’t really matter as long as we’re having fun together. Honestly, I thought you’d agree,” you said before taking a bite out of your burger.
Price could only watch you in shock. Sure, your relationship started on the basis of sexual benefits but when he did think of the future all he thought of was you. Even if you were a generation younger than him, he had never felt such synergy with anyone before. It was a connection of a lifetime - emotional and sexual.
“So you don’t give a shit about marriage because you think I don’t care about it.”
“Kind of. If I’m gonna get married I need my partner to be on board too, don’t you think?” He sighed at your reply. You looked up at him, confused and cheeks full with your dinner as you grabbed the plastic cup of coke.
His heart swelled at the sight. It was like looking at an innocent chipmunk. To think that the same face looked fucked out an hour ago awed him but he couldn’t let himself get distracted by your unintentional seduction.
He grabbed your drink and put it back in the cupholder. You were about to whine but he grabbed your face and pulled you close, noses almost touching.
“You—“ peck “—are the most wonderful thing to happen to me and I’ll be damned if I don’t tie you down with me in the future.”
Your face heated up. You had swallowed your food not too long ago but your mouth felt like it had gone dry.
With your face in his hands he continued. “I’ll have a rock on your pretty little finger before you know it.” He left a longer peck on your lips this time and pulled away.
What you didn’t know was that he already had a ring for you. It was stored away in a hidden drawer in his desk, waiting to be worn by you.
In fact, he had brought it just a month into your relationship. He wasn’t religious but he knew that a person like you was the blessing of a lifetime.
#cod#john price#captain price#price x reader#price cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley
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‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
masterlist
synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
#🍒 ‧₊˚ ⋅ rafeysbunny#🍒 ‧₊˚ ⋅ one shots#obx#outer banks#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks rafe#rafe obx#obx rafe cameron#outer banks rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x virgin!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x innocent!reader#just the tip#stepbro!rafe#stepbrother!rafe cameron#rafe cameron x stepsister!reader
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cw: mild daddy kink, rough or passionate sex.
simon's riley forehead pressed against yours, almost too painfully, with your body folded underneath, legs spread wide and dangling at his rippling back, while the thick, bulbous tip of his cock kisses at your cervix with sharp, relent pumps, his hips pulling back languidly, then thrusting back, sinking in your heat, and you tighten immediately.
each punctured movement makes you leak, pussy absolutely soppy with amount of your slick, coating his veiny girth fully, hips pistoning to nail at your hole, hear the wet plaps as your skin connect, slapping and grinding, heat simmering at the base of simon's cock, building and throbbing through him whole, his muscles flexing, while your heels dig in his back.
you almost kick from how deep he is, a heavy weight in your stomach, making you want to touch, inspect, almost, if his cock wasn't making you so hazy, trashing weakly beneath his weight, muscle and fat that fill out the line of his body pressing on you, pinning to the furled sheets beneath, your brain going mushy, enough to make you keen something you didn't voiced before.
the softest, barely audible daddy buzzes in his ears, stuck in, painting his pale skin scarlet, with how aroused that squeaky, vulnerable call made him, his release coming almost too soon, balls too tight with how full they are, aching to burst, but his thrusts only picking up more, brutal, sloppy as they hammer in your sopping, messy cunt, your eyes leaving his face to roll back.
that's when you chant it, babbling, calling daddy until simon shuts your mouth with almost spitting kiss, licking in your mouth, a clash of tongue and teeth, smiling in the muffled, whining sounds, a glimpse of a scowl behind, something ferocious, but it's doesn't matter, your mind too lost to the deep rolls of his powerful hips, the knock of his cock, knowing he's going to take care of you.
like daddy should.
main masterlist. quidelines.
#𐔌 . 𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 .ᐟ#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley comfort#simon riley x female reader#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley comfort#simon riley x you#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley#ghost x f!reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley drabble#ghost thoughts#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon riley headcanons
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nepo boyfriend - fc43
summary: franco colapinto is dating leo messi's daughter, which makes him a "nepo boyfriend"
folkie radio: GUYSSS HERE IT IS! took me a minute to do this requests but there you have it. i had to educate myself on messi lore for this and omg he has the cutest love story with his wife, im obsessed lol. anyway, i hope you like this!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
liked by francolapinto, olliebearman and 202,826 others
yn.messi home 🤍🇦���
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username1 IT GIRLLL
username2 coolest nepo baby
username3 ESPERA is that franco colapinto??
└ username1 she's been dating franco for years now 👀
└ username4 our boy stealing messi's daughter's heart purrrr
username5 little messi has a boyfriend???
└ username1 yeah he's literally argentina's next f1 star
francolapinto mi hogar está dondequiera que estés ♥️ [home is wherever you are]
└ yn.messi 🫂🤍
username6 imagine your dad being the most famous sportsman ever and dating a cute guy and wearing cute outfits. she has the dream life
username7 i can’t wait for franco to make it to f1 so they become the paddock it couple
liked by francolapinto, yn.messi and 509,268 others
williamsracing BREAKING: Franco Colapinto joins Williams Racing for the rest of the 2024 season. Welcome to the family, @/francolapinto!
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username1 OMFGGGGG
username2 poor logan but franco is really talented he deserves this chance !!
username3 HES SO CUTE HELLO??
yn.messi mi campeón 🫶✨ [my champion]
└ francolapinto ❤️🔥❤️🔥
└ username1 LEO MESSI’S DAUGHTER??
alex_albon Welcome to the team mate!
└ francolapinto gracias Alex! Ready to learn 💪
username4 ARGENTINA IS BACK IN F1
leomessi 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
└ username2 LEO COMMENTING ON F1 POST??? history
└ username3 argentina’s pride and joy already
username5 IS HE SINGLE??? PLEASE TELL ME HE IS
username6 new fans you better learn the franco lore bc there’s plenty of it
username7 WAIT UNTIL YOU FIND OUT THAT-
liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 389,766 others
yn.messi first of many. orgullosa de vos siempre 🤍 [proud of you always]
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username1 awe 🥹🥹🥹🥹
username2 MY BABIES
username3 THEY’RE TOGETHER ???
francolapinto gracias por todo mi amor ❤️ [thank you for everything my love]
└ username3 HE CALLED HER MI AMOR I'M CRYING
└ username1 someone check if i'm breathing
└ yourinstagram i love you!
username4 THE WAY SHE'S BEEN THERE SINCE FOREVER
└ username1 that's real love right there
└ username2 watching them grow together >>>>>>
williamsracing Our favorite supporter 💙
└ yn.messi 🫶🫶
lilymhe welcome! 🥹💗💗
username5 my girl really said forget football i'm going racing
└ username1 leo watching his princess date a racer instead of a footballer: 🧍♂️
└ username2 the crossover we didn't know we needed
username6 remember when we thought those pics in buenos aires were edited??
username7 THE MINI MESSI AND THE F1 DRIVER, THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE
username8 first we got leo bringing us the world cup now franco in f1 🇦🇷
└ username2 and yn connecting both worlds, iconic behavior
username9 the way he looks at her in the first pic >>>>>
username10 IM SO CONFUSED RIGHT NOW
liked by username1, username2 and 56,827 others
f1gossip 🚨 Williams driver Franco Colapinto spotted with YN Messi (yes, THAT Messi's daughter) at dinner in Monaco
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username1 WAIT WHAT??? HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THIS
└ username2 they've literally been together for like four years 😭
└ username3 where have you been living?? under a rock??
username4 messi's daughter dating an f1 driver?? didn't see this coming
└ username2 she's been at every race supporting him!
username5 they're literally the cutest couple in f1 rn
username6 probably just wants messi's connections for sponsors tbh
└ username2 he literally got the williams seat on merit stfu
└ username3 tell me you know nothing about franco without telling me
username7 she could do better than a pay driver
└ username2 clearly you haven't watched a single f2 race
└ username3 worry about your own life challenge
└ username4 he's literally argentina's biggest racing talent in years
username8 why isn't she dating a footballer instead??
└ username2 because she can date whoever she wants??
username9 they've been together for ages, internet using internet internet explorer fr
└ username3 real ones remember their first spotting in buenos aires
username10 the amount of sponsorship money williams must be getting
username11 this is actually so cute. from f2 to f1 together
liked by username1, username2 and 5,028 others
francoupdates here are some pics of franco and yn messi through the years since some of you are new to this
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username1 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭
username2 power couple since day ONE
username3 that pic of her at the pitwall watching him race >>>>>
└ username1 the way she still does this at every race 🥺
username4 REAL ONES HAVE BEEN HERE
username5 they were so tiny i can’t
username6 LOS AMO
username7 young yn watching franco race vs now analyzing his data
username8 here to spread the colapinto x messi agenda
username9 argentina’s it couple since forever
username10 SIMP BABY FRANCO I CANT
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,023,477 others
francolapinto Points ✅ BZRP cap ✅ Nepo boyfriend things ✅
Gracias por el apoyo! [thank you for the support]
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username1 FRANCOOOO 😩😩
username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend thing go i love him
username3 this divaaaa
yn.messi and they said dating messi's daughter got you the seat... weird way to spell pure talent
└ francolapinto clearly i'm the worst nepo boyfriend ever
└ francolapinto te amo hermosa ❤️
└ username1 HELP THEY'RE SO FUNNY TOGETHER
williamsracing More of this please! 💙
username4 worst nepo boyfriend ever actually delivers results
username5 embarrassing nepotism attempt tbh
username6 not him actually being talented and making us all proud
username7 THE ROOKIES BRINGING POINTS HOME
leomessi 🙌🙌 Vamos!
└ username1 JUST ICONIC
└ yn.messi the payment for his permanent seat is due next week don’t forget!
└ username2 IM SCREAMING
username8 the way they're both trolling the haters i love them sm
liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and 402,277 others
yn.messi mi lugar favorito [my favorite place] 🤍 pit stop before mexico city
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username1 AWEEEEE
username2 how can anyone hate this couple
username3 THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.
francolapinto perdiste en fifa mi amor [you lost in fifa]
└ yn.messi te dejo ganar 😌 [i let you win]
└ landonorris exposed by your own girlfriend mate
└ username1 I LOVE THEM SO BAD
leomessi ❤️
username4 this is what we mean by relationship goals
username5 THE WAY SHE EXPOSED HIM ABOUT FIFA 😭
username6 football royalty 🤝 f1
username7 this is such a great crossover i can’t
username8 LOS AMO [i love them]
lilyhme 💗💗
username9 taking franco to her dad’s matches 🥹🥹
username10 i’m so parasocial about them
liked by username1, yn.messi and 12,043 others
francoupdates Franco opens up about his relationship with YN Messi in recent interview:
"I met her at an event in Argentina back in 2019. She didn't even know what DRS was back then and now she corrects my racing lines in the sim. We grew up together through all this - F3, F2, now F1. She's been there through the tough times, sleeping in paddocks, the uncertain seasons. The nepotism jokes are funny because if you knew how many nights we spent budgeting for the next race... Being Leo Messi's daughter was never part of our story. It was just YN and Franco, trying to make it work while chasing a dream and loving each other very much”
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username1 NOT ME CRYING OVER THIS
username2 NOT HIM SAYING SHE CORRECTS HIS RACING LINES 😭
└ yn.messi someone has to 🤷🏻♀️
└ username1 HI YN I LOVE YOU 😭
username3 "just YN and Franco" 🥺
└ username2 this is actually so wholesome
username4 "budgeting for the next race" but they said nepotism 🙄
username5 THIS IS THE PUREST THING EVER
username6 MY CORAZON [my heart]
username7 haters don’t know a single thing about their story, they have been soulmates for years now
username8 cute but we do need messi connections for that seat 😩
username9 IF THEY DONT GET MARRIED ISTG
username10 real ones have been here since that buenos aires spotting
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
francolapinto added to their stories
[the prettiest is ready for vegas]
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
liked by yn.messi, williamsracing and 678,923 others
francolapinto 3 more races let's gooo! ready to prove nepotism requires talent sometimes 😌✌🏼 (yn stop rolling your eyes at my jokes mi amor)
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username1 I LOVE HIM SO BAD
username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend jokes go
yn.messi i'll stop rolling my eyes when you stop missing apex points honey 😘
└ francolapinto MI AMOR WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS
└ alex_albon she's got data to back this up mate
└ williamsracing YN: 1, Franco: 0
└ username1 I LOVE THEM SM
username3 NOT YN ROASTING HIS RACING LINES IN THE COMMENTS
└ username4 MOTHER CHOSE VIOLENCE TODAY
username5 no one can convince me they aren’t the best couple ever
username6 bro got called a nepo boyfriend once and now that’s his brand
landonorris 😂😂😂
username7 okay but when is messi going to get franco a seat fr
username8 worst nepo kid ever he doesn’t even have a seat yeat
liked by username1, username2 and 43,022 others
f1gossip Franco Colapinto and YN Messi spotted getting cozy at XS Nightclub in Vegas after qualifying 🎰 Apparently someone forgot Papa Messi might see these 👀
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username1 FRANCO BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOING LEO'S GONNA SEE THIS 💀
└ username2 man's risking it all before his first full season
username2 breaking: franco colapinto will not race tomorrow due to mysterious disappearance
└ username3 leo messi spotted buying a plane ticket to vegas
username4 it was nice knowing you franco 😭
username5 WILLIAMS RACING SUDDENLY LOOKING FOR NEW DRIVER
username6 someone check on franco pls
username7 pov: you forgot your girlfriend's dad is literally lionel messi
username8 leo messi about to show up at williams garage
username9 THEY’RE SO CUTE THO
username10 MY PARENTS ACTUALLY
liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 401,827 others
yn.messi vegas was fun ‼️ papi please don’t check your phone
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username1 HEEEEEELPP
username2 BESTIE YOU’RE INSANE
alex_albon Kids these days.. they don’t know how you behave
└ username1 imagine alex just babysitting them at the club 😭
username3 BABY WE ALL SAW THE PICS
username4 just in: leonel messi spotted planning vehicular manslaughter
username5 FRANCO MOVE TO ANTARTICA ITS NOT TOO LATE
francolapinto i’m scared..
└ username1 WE ALL ARE
└ username2 THIS IS TOO FUNNY
francolapinto hermosa 😍😍
└ username3 he said yup my gf’s dad could kill me but i’m still thirsting over her
username6 CAUGHT IN 4K AND FULL HD
landonorris 😂😂😂😂 never a dull day with y’all
username7 franco consider witness protection
username8 DROP THE HAIR ROUTINE QUEENIE
alexandrasaintmleux been there donde that…
username9 there goes your possible seat franco leo messi is not paying for it anymore
username10 MENACES
liked by username1, username2 and 29,726 others
francoupdates Franco with one of YN’s little brothers in Qatar! The Messi’s are there to watch him race 🥹
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username1 OH MY LORDDDDD
username2 THIS IS SO CUTE IM MELTING
username3 her dad is there to have a chat with franco about those pictures in las vegas
username4 FRANCO SEAT CONFIRMATION INCOMING
username5 this is so adorable and the fact that yn’s brothers know him since they were born lrettt much 🥹🥹
username6 FRANCO YOU’RE SO LOVED
username7 leo be like: hello franco i just want to talk
username8 ARGENTINA’S ROYALTY
username9 yn tried to hide her dad’s phone and he just showed up at the paddock with the whole fam
username10 I LIVE FOR THIS
liked by username1, username2 and 43,098 others
f1gossip"Yeah, no pressure right? But honestly, they're like my second family now. Leo's probably more nervous than me - he keeps sending me good luck messages. Thiago and Mateo have been explaining F1 to Ciro all week. And YN... well, she's in bossy mode so she's more focused on telling me where I'm losing time than giving good luck kisses. But having them here means everything." - Franco talking about his girlfriend's family watching him race in Qatar!
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username1 THE WAY HE GETS SHY TALKING ABOUT THEM
username2 leo sending good luck texts is killing me
username3 YN REALLY SAID RACING LINES > KISSES
username4 imagine getting good luck texts from messi 😭
username5 VAMOS FRANCOOOO
username6 messi family taking over qatar paddock we love to see it
username7 NEPO BOYFRIEND THINGSSS
username8 yn's dad is there to buy franco a set soooo trueee
username9 GOOD LUCK KISSES 🥺
username10 the way he lights up mentioning yn though └ username1 even if she's roasting his racing lines 😭
liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,026,287 others
francolapinto Special helmet for Qatar 🇶🇦Celebrando la copa del mundo [celebrating the world cup] ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Had to honor the greatest of all time and well... my future father in law 😅 Gracias Leo por todo [thank you for everything], specially for not killing me for dating your daughter
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username1 FRANCO OMFG
username2 HE REALLY DID THIS
yn.messi "future father in law" someone's feeling brave today
└ francolapinto had to shoot my shot mi amor
└ username1 HE REALLY WANTS TO DIE TODAY
└ leomessi 👀
username3 DID HE JUST- IS THIS A PROPOSAL HINT???
└ username2 MAN'S REALLY ANNOUNCING HIS INTENTIONS ON MAIN
username4 FRANCO CHOOSING VIOLENCE TODAY
username5 bro using a helmet reveal to ask for blessing, respect
landonorris At least the man’s got game 😂
username6 HELP DID HE JUST SOFT LAUNCH A PROPOSAL
└ username1 leo reading that caption: 🔪
username7 future father in law... franco woke up fearless
username8 LATINO GANG RISE UP VAMOS FRANCO
username9 THE WAY HE JUST ANNOUNCED HIS DEATH WISH
williamsracing Lovely helmet design! Also, security has been increased around the garage
alex_albon might need witness protection after this one mate
└ yn.messi don't worry guys papa already knew about the helmet
└ francolapinto MI AMOR YOU COULD'VE LED WITH THAT 😭
username10 never beating the nepo boyfriend allegations
username11 buttering messi up so he can buy him a seat we know
liked by lilymhe, francolapinto and 402,389 others
yn.messi my nepo boyfriend who couldn't even get a point in his first race just finished his first formula 1 season 🥹 so proud of you mi amor, from watching you race karts to F1... i'd say dating the goat’s daughter worked out pretty well 😌❤️ @/francolapinto
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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE
username2 the second pic i’m SOBBING
francolapinto from being the worst nepo boyfriend to getting points... all thanks to you mi amor ❤️
└ yn.mesi you're still the worst nepo boyfriend but i love you
└ alex_albon get a room you two
williamsracing Nepo strategy successful ✅
username3 living the nepo dream fr
username4 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭
username5 from karting girlfriend to f1 wag upgrade
username6 they keep bringing up the nepo boyfriend thing 😭
└ username1 she'll never let him live it down
username7 YN AND FRANCO SUPREMACY
username8 the nepo jokes never get old
alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹
leomessi Estamos muy orgullosos ❤️
└ username1 THIS IS SO ADORABLE
└ username2 franco you’re so loved
username8 SHE'S SO PROUD OF HIM I'M CRYING
└ username2 the way she never stops teasing him though
username9 MY PARENTS SINCE THAT FIRST BUENOS AIRES SPOTTING
username10 OUR BEST WAG NEEDS TO STAY
liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,011,965 others
francolapinto What a year... Couldn't have done this without my biggest supporter since karting days @/yn.messi ❤️ Thank you for believing in me even when I was "the worst nepo boyfriend" 😅
And to the entire Messi family - gracias por hacerme sentir parte de la familia desde el primer día. Leo, gracias por confiarme lo más precioso que tienen (y por no matarme todavía).
[thank you for making me feel part of the family since day one. Leo, thank you for trusting me with your most precious treasure (and for not killing me yet).]
Time to work harder for 2025 💪🏼
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username1 FRANCOOO OMFG
username2 this is so CUTE
yn.messi still the worst nepo boyfriend but i guess you're MY worst nepo boyfriend ❤️
└ francolapinto te amo mi amor
└ username1 THEY’RE THE CUTEST
username3 “trusting me with your most precious treasure” IM DEADDDD
username4 man wrote a whole love letter to the messis
└ username1 AS HE SHOULD
leomessi You’re family 🤍 [eres familia]
username5 NOT LEO SAYING HE'S FAMILY I'M CRYING
└ username2 from fearing leo to being adopted by him
williamsracing Family ✅ Points ✅ 2025 loading...
└ username3 GIVE HIM A SEAT
username6 THE SECOND PIC, THEY WERE LITTLE BABIES
username7 THE WAY HE THANKED THE WHOLE FAMILY 😭
└ username1 securing that messi blessing
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fanfiction#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto smau#franco colapinto fic#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#harrysfolklore#fc43 x reader#fc43 imagine
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just us
masterlist
summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities
word count: 1.8k.
warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe
a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.
Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.
Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face.
You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.
“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself.
“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes.
“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it.
“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head.
“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that.
“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face.
“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”
“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“
“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.”
“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help.
“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head.
He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit.
“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe.
“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you.
“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?”
“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.”
“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.
“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.
“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them.
The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms.
“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“
Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”
“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back.
“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more.
You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.
“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep.
“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.”
As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him.
His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up.
“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”
His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips.
“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.
“Just us, baby.”
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“Oh Simon…” And you forgot everything, lost into oblivion of some sweet dreamy kind as he pushed and slammed even more further with his big rigid cock.
Your eyes rolled back in your skull, while the room echoed with Simon's groan and the creak of your bed, the shameless sound of skin slapping against skin in electrifying sizzles. A sharp pain stinged where Simon's big palm connected, aching in tingles as he fucked harder, all the while pain stirred in toe-curling pleasure.
“Ya’ not here with me, stay here.” He demanded, leaning further over to yank back at your hair, his arm snaking around your neck and surrendering you in a headlock.
“Shake ya’ head, yeah ?” He hit your g-spot and another scream tore down your throat but only managed to vibrate against your skin, Simon's chokehold was damming your senses.
He released his grip and you hastily gulped bulk of air before he tightened his muscles around your neck, his veins popping along and how much you wanted to kiss them.
“If ya’ can't speak your safeword then shake ya’ head lovie.” He grunted but didn't stop for one bit and you were grateful even if your knees gave out and only Simon fucking through your overstimulation. You were drooling on his elbow that was wrapped around you like snake coil.
“Good girl.” Simon hummed.
Part 2
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18+ / mdi
summary: keeping appearances as an idol was already hard enough, but it becomes even worse upon finding a forlorn jeonghan with need of assistance with the company's faulty security system, instantly becoming endeared with the idol who refused to take no for an answer — not that you'd ever want him to.
content: idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, afab reader, small age gap implied, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is mentioned to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 11.7k
a/n: this fic is based on this scenario, except i decided to expand on it and make it into a full fic!!
masterlist | patreon
"Hey, is that Yoon Jeonghan from Seventeen?", asked Minji as she patted your shoulder, finger pointing towards your right.
"Who?", you wondered, attempting to make sense of the distressed man standing in front of the main artist elevators in the building, "Oh, yeah, I think that's him," you said once you spotted his face, deeming it impossible to not recognize a face such as his.
"Why is he just standing there?", she wondered, holding onto your arm in the affectionate manner she usually did, "Do you think it's that elevator thing again?" she faced you to ask.
"What elevator thing?"
"Apparently he went on a variety show and complained about the company's security system. It was a whole controversy, but I guess the facial recognition doesn't work for him for some reason," she informed you before chuckling at the sight of Jeonghan sighing in defeat at yet another failed attempt at utilizing the aforementioned system, "I thought it was a bit, but I guess he was for real."
"Huh," you hummed, having been unaware of the issue. The system worked just fine for you and all your members, so you never had any motive to question it. Your senior, however, had clear issues with the system. Within the two minutes you had noticed his presence, he had already attempted the facial recognition three times, getting rejected every single one of them.
"You should help him," your groupmate suggested, "I would, but my manager will be here soon for my shoot. You only have rehearsals today, right? You're heading that way anyway."
"What? No!" you declined, "I always get anxious around our seniors. I've never even met him," you added, far too shy to even face the pretty boy during his predicament.
Disconnecting from you, she grabbed onto your shoulders, scolding you, "Dude, just go help him! This is how you make connections. You give him a hand and then he gives you one back," she said, physically turning you around so you could face his direction, hands still on your shoulders, "Go! My ride's probably already here anyways. Good luck," she encouraged as she pushed you forward, making you absentmindedly begin walking towards the boy.
Taking a breath, you began to walk towards the boy who seemed to grow more and more frustrated at the faulty security system. The closer you got, the more you could hear his whines in complaint. It appeared that he had taken up a phone call during the time you'd been talking to your friend, frustratedly arguing with whoever was on the other line.
"Seokminnie, c'mon! Just come down! I'll buy you soju after practice," he whined, groaning at whatever response his groupmate had given him in return, "My manager already left ... Yeah .... No! Stop! Just come down! I'm your senior and- Wait! Don't hang up!", he groaned at last upon hearing the classic sound of a disconnected line invade his ears.
It was only then that he seemed to notice your presence, widening his eyes momentarily before offering you a brief bow to acknowledge your presence. Moving aside, he gave you enough space to stand in front of the elevator, quietly awaiting for you to utilize the security system, likely assuming you had not heard his prior predicament. He gestured for you to move forward, acting as if he were being a gentleman in allowing you to go first.
You approached the small facial recognition screen, about to scan your face before turning to him, finding the boy staring at you expectantly, "You need me in order to use the elevator, don't you?", you asked him, amused.
"Huh?", he gaped at you, tsk'ing afterward and making an odd 'Eyyy' sound, "I'm just being a gentleman. Go ahead," he gave you a tight yet amused smile.
You chuckled in return, "Liar," you were surprised at how easy it was to be informal with him, but he was immediately likable, "Ask me to help you and maybe I might," you added, giving him a satisfied smile.
"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm your senior — Whatever happened to respect?", he joked, tsk'ing at you once more. He proceeded to walk towards you, pushing his face onto the scanner and ignoring your presence altogether, "I'll do it, see," he practically challenged, attempting the scanner once more.
Unsurprisingly, he was met with a red X and a beeping sound that indicated yet another failure to be recognized by the system. This caused him to stand there in silence for a few seconds before whining 'Yah!' and cursing out the security system.
Clearing his throat, he straightened up again, facing you once more, "Sorry about that. Your turn," he gestured to you to move forward again, stepping out of your way.
Both amused and surprised, you decided to finally utilize the scanner on yourself, smiling at him with a satisfied look when it immediately allowed you in. Turning to him, you nodded at him to get in before you, only for him to gesture for you to go first. Something about 'ladies first.'
"You owe me one," you said once you were both in the elevator again, standing side by side as you faced the closing door.
"Nuh-uh. This was just a coincidence. You needed to head upstairs anyways," he rebutted petulantly.
"Yeah? So you don't need me to help you get to your floor, then, right?", you questioned mockingly, knowing he would also have to work the scanner in order to get the door to open to Seventeen's designated floor. There were far too many steps to get to the artists' floors, but it made sense to you by now.
Upon the realization, he groaned, letting himself throw his head back against the wall behind him as he earned a giggle from you. He frowned in your direction at your laugh, though he joined you with a chuckle just mere seconds later.
"Okay, fine. I owe you," he gave up, still leaning against the wall behind but turning his head to look at you, "What can Yoon Jeonghan do for you?"
You pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, finger on your chin as you thought it over, "I have no idea. I'll let you know," you finally responded, "Okay, so, what floor?", you asked as your finger moved to the buttons on the elevator door.
"13th," he responded, now casually leaning back against the wall.
"Oh? The second highest floor. You're an important man, aren't you?", you teased, pressing his button before moving onto your group's number 9.
"Nine?," he gaped, "Seems I'm higher on the company hierarchy than you, yet you show me no respect," he joked back.
"Shut up. I'm going out of my way for you. Senior or not, you owe me. Those are the rules of all civilized society," you argued back.
"Okay, how about," he began, pressing his hands together as if making a proposition, "I see you downstairs every morning bright and early with a fresh cup of coffee in exchange for your face — y'know, for the scanner. How's that sound?", he proposed, a pleased smile on his face at your agape mouth.
"Every morning? Do you not have any friends?", you asked as the elevator continued to move up.
"Do you see anyone here? They all get here before me. You seem pretty friendless. C'mon. Free coffee, good company. I'll even play one of your group's songs in my next Welive. See? Can't get any better than that," he continued to sell his idea as the elevator came to a stop, now at his floor but demanding yet another facial scan to even exit the elevator.
"God, the security's too much," he groaned upon noticing the prompt on the small screen inside the elevator, "C'mon!", he turned to you, "Try to tell me that's not unnecessary."
You gave up, nodding as you chuckled, though not making a move to scan your face.
"Say yes. Please," he dragged the e for an annoyingly long amount of time, grinning when you rolled your eyes but laughed, "I'll keep going. Just agree. What better way to spend your time than with Yoon Jeonghan?"
"What makes you think I even knew that name before today?", you challenged.
"You do. Don't lie to me, it won't work," he smirked back before going back to being annoying again, "Come on-"
"Fine! I'll meet you downstairs every morning expecting a fresh matcha in hand — I don't drink coffee. But you still owe me," you agreed, extending your hand to him to solidify the agreement.
"No coffee? Ew. But okay, deal," he returned your handshake, holding onto your hand for an annoying amount of time, pretending as if he were unaware of when to let go and waiting for you to pull his hand off yours with another eye roll. He chuckled any time he managed to get a reaction out of you, leading you to realize he must be an absolute menace to every person he comes across. Sadly, he was charmingly entertaining, leaving you with no complaints.
Finally, you scanned your face on the screen, letting him walk in front of you to head out. Before the elevator doors could close and separate again, he held his arm out to stop them, nodding towards you.
"What's your name? I like you," he said plainly, head tilted in curiosity.
"Y/N," you said, "Please don't introduce yourself again-"
"Yoon Jeonghan," he interrupted anyways, "Remember that. We'll be having fun in the near future," were his last words before removing his hand and allowing the elevator doors to separate you, likely heading over to his groupmates upon leaving your line of sight.
Silver doors closed in front of you, now leaving you to your own company. Dumbfounded yet amused by the interaction, you stood there as you waited for the elevator to arrive to your floor, robotically scanning your face on the door once you made it there and exiting the square-shaped room upon arrival. There, you stood with the remnant of a shocked smile on your face, surprised at how easy it had been to put any concept of age or seniority aside when interacting with Yoon Jeonghan. While you always had the tendency of being overly formal with your seniors, you had spoken to Jeonghan like you would any guy your age, disregarding formalities as soon as he'd spoken to you.
You didn't truly need any convincing to agree to see him again. On the contrary, had he not suggested as such, you would've remained with an itch to find a reason for a re-encounter. Like any other junior idol at a company with big names such as BTS and Seventeen, developing a slight crush on your seniors was the normalcy — your groupmates Minji and Lila had crushes on BTS' V and Seventeen's Vernon, respectively — and it appeared that you were now joining them in the list of girls with unrequited crushes.
Jeonghan was, what, maybe five or so years older than you? The age difference alone was enough for you to chalk this up to a mindless crush. That, and the kindergarten teacher voice he had put on while speaking to you — clearly he made a very obvious distinction about your age difference right off the bat.
As of now, all you could do was hope to see him again (which, thankfully, you would) and retain the fun back and forth he'd welcomed you in on. Friendzone was one thing, but junior-zone? At least you now had a story to let your members in on next dance practice.
"Hey, it's you again."
"God, announce yourself next time," you groaned, hand clutching your heart at the short-lived shock of Yoon Jeonghan suddenly bumping your shoulder whilst walking down one of the many endless hallways of the Hybe building.
"I said 'hey,'" he shrugged, continuing to walk by your side, "So, where are we going?"
"Who's 'we,'" you scoffed, "I'm going to buy lunch," you said, continuing to walk as he remained by your side.
"Great, I was thinking of getting something to eat too," he agreed, humming to himself afterwards.
"Okay, so I guess we're having lunch together, then," you hummed back, resigned to your senior's company.
"You catch on quickly, I like that," he gave you a closed-lip grin, "We're going to be seeing each other quite often, might as well start now."
Crossing the doors to the cafeteria, you headed to the lunch area to pick up something to eat, Jeonghan following right behind you and annoyingly picking out the same exact lunch as you, piece by piece. You simply looked back at him with a menacing stare, only causing a bigger grin out of him. Once you made it to the cashier area, your hand made its way to your bag with the intent to pull out your card only to be stopped by one Yoon Jeonghan who had been quicker to scan his own. You had had no plans of preventing him from buying his own meal, but you had also not expected him to pay for your own.
"Wait, you don't have to-"
"Too late," he grinned, walking past you before looking over his shoulder and nodding at you to follow him.
Heading over to a two-seater table, you followed him, taking a seat right across from him. The place was empty sans another duo of two idols eating on the opposite side of the large cafeteria, so you didn't feel too strange at the idea of being spotted with a senior idol.
Sitting across from him, you took note of how lax and confident his demeanor was. It must be nice, you thought. It was quite the opposite for you, especially considering the dynamic between you. This wad a first for you — the whole sharing a meal with a senior from one of the groups that inspired you to become an idol in the first place. You had interacted with some of your seniors before, but you had not had the chance of befriending any of them thus far, much less grab their attention in the same way you had caught Jeonghan's.
It made you feel anxious to be one-on-one with him in such an exposed setting. You knew that within the walls of Hybe, interacting with idols was not seen as odd nor would it lead to any sort of scandal, but you also worried that it might seem strange due to your gender and age difference. However, Jeonghan somehow managed to make you feel more relaxed and less proper than you likely would with any other idol.
"What are you thinking about?" he nodded at you as he sipped at his water, interrupting your thoughts.
"Nothing," you replied, beginning to pay mind to the food in front of you, "You didn't have to pay for my meal, by the way."
"You're clearly thinking about something. I can hear those thoughts cooking in there all the way from here," he chuckled, " — and I'm a gentleman and your senior, of course I had to pay," he shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing.
"Don't you have friends?", you asked bluntly, forking at your meal as he snickered at you.
"This is the second time you come after my social life, okay ... Ignoring your disrespect, I do have friends. Twelve of them, actually, maybe even more," he informs you in a 'ha, told you so!' type of tone.
Now was your turn to laugh, unable to take him too seriously, "So, does their facial recognition not work either? Are you so annoying they won't share a meal with you?," you tilted your head mockingly.
"You're better company," he shrugged at you, "Not sure how I never noticed you before, but hey, never too late, right?"
"You barely know me," you grumbled.
"Yeah, and I'm working on that. Keep up!", he chastised, tapping the table.
"You're gonna get me into a scandal for hanging out with me so shamelessly," you reminded him, but made no attempt to leave the situation.
"Who's going to see us?", he looked around, spotting the two other people (sans staff) in the room, "Hanjin from TWS? That's my junior, he'd never say a word. Plus, this is just innocent senior-junior fraternizing, don't worry too much," he tsk'd, leaning back against his seat in a relaxed manner once more.
"You're too relaxed for your own good. How have you never been in a scandal before?", you gaped at him, swatting his hand when his hand made its way to your plate, grabbing at a fry, "Are you like this with all your juniors?"
"Oh? You've been keeping up with me? How do you know im scandal-less? And nope, I already told you — I like you."
"Is it surprising to you that I'd keep up with one of the biggest groups in Kpop?," you feigned disinterest, "Okay, if you like me so much, can I drop the honorifics, then?", you tried, matching the amused grin he gave you.
"Hmm," he pondered for a moment, "I'll let you speak to me informally if you make a compromise with me," he paused, waiting for you to nod for him to continue, "I want you to call me oppa," he grinned.
His shit-eating grin reached all the way to his ears, making you scowl at him. Due to your age difference and the overall senior-junior dynamic of your relationship, it was not an ordinary request for a senior to ask you to call him oppa, thus causing his amusement at his own request. Usually, you'd call seniors like him sunbae or by their full name considering that you were nowhere close enough to him to call him oppa, but his grin told you that he'd be far too pleased to have you calling him by that honorific rather than a more formal alternative.
"No," you deadpanned, "Anything else, just-"
"Fine. Since we're officially friends now, you can call me what all my friends call me; Jeonghannie — Hannie if you're feeling particularly friendly," he continued grinning at you with a pleased look in his eye.
"Hold on, since when are we friends?", you chuckled slapping his hand away from your plate once more, "God! Was there any point in buying my meal if you're just gonna keep eating from it?", you groaned, not truly annoyed but still bugged by the man.
"You've got a short fuse," he noted, "That only makes this even more fun, you realize that, right?" he said as he chewed on what were formerly your fries.
"You're going to be trouble for me at some point, aren't you?", you wondered out loud, chuckling at how pleased he was.
"No, you are — trust me," he said almost to himself.
God damn him, was he flirting with you? Throughout the past few hours of knowing him, you'd been pretty sure he just enjoyed banter by nature, not that he was just singling you out in order to flirt with you. Maybe he was just a flirtatious person by nature? Regardless, your original statement was correct — he was going to cause you trouble one way or another.
Unfortunately to all, the rest of your day was not nearly as eventful as the first few hours (courtesy of Yoon Jeonghan). Leaving the artist designated floors did not require face-scanning, so your duties for the man ended quickly after your lunch together.
For the remainder of the day, you engaged in your diligent idol duties as you practiced and recorded with your groupmates. You'd hoped to catch another glimpse of the flirtatious boy who had caught your attention earlier, but you went home without any more contact. You would've been disheartened by this had you not known he'd be waiting for you by the elevators the following morning.
You had chosen not to tell your bandmates about your interactions with Jeonghan. Although he had been right about you being safe to interact with each other inside the walls of Hybe, you were only on your first year after debut, so the paranoia of insisting your first scandal was far too big to risk anything. Still, you were not about to actually deny him of more time spent together; you'd grown to enjoy his company too much for that.
In your seemingly endless train of thought, you're startled by the sudden presence next to you as you stand by the Hybe elevators. You'd arrived at the same time you had yesterday, assuming Jeonghan would also be present as he was the day prior. After waiting for ten minutes, you were rewarded with another mini heart attack caused by him.
"You're kinda skittish, aren't you?", he laughed, hand giving you a pat on the shoulder as a form of greeting, "Waited for me long?"
"Nope," you responded, turning to look at him, finding him holding two cups on a single, strangely large hand, "Is that my matcha?", you asked, hand reaching out to grab it from him only to be met with resistance from the boy.
"Aht aht," he chastised, "No 'good morning'? No 'you look really handsome today, oppa'? Where did your manners go?", he bit his lip in amusement at himself (and likely at the scowl that formed on your face).
"Yoon Jeonghan, if you don't give me that damn drink I'm leaving you stranded down here," you threatened, snatching the drink from his hand and sipping it with annoyance.
"You wouldn't," he mocked, "Anyways, go on," he gestured for you to step forward in order to scan your face, raising his eyebrows when you didn't make a move to help, "I can get even more annoying," he threatened.
"Fine," you grumbled, scanning your face and stepping into the elevator.
Once settled inside the small box, Jeonghan stood next to you, taking micro side steps in order for his shoulder to brush against yours. When that didn't get your attention, he opted to clear his throat, chuckling at the glimpse of an eye roll he got from where he was standing. As a last effort, his shoulder bumped yours in a more notorious way, finally grabbing your annoyed attention.
"What?," you hissed.
"Okay, first of all, let's calm down. Second of all, I need your face for a little longer today," he winced at your reaction, "I know, I know, but you promised," he reminded you.
"I never promised anything," you scowled, although interested in the idea of seeing him outside of the elevator again, "What do you want?"
"Just need to stop by to see Mingyu in floor 11 for a few minutes — Mingyu, you know him, right? All your friends are probably crushing on him, everyone is. Anyways, it'll be just five minutes and then I'll leave you alone," he went on, hand on your shoulder as he gave you those gigantic and irresistible bug eyes of his.
"What if I'm busy?", you asked, knowing you truly weren't.
"You're not. Senior or not, you would've already told me to fuck myself if I were getting in the way of your work," he said with confidence.
"Fine," you sighed as you dragged out the e, pressing the correct button in order to take Jeonghan to his destination. The elevator ride was short but taken up by Jeonghan making short quips in order to make you laugh. Unfortunately, he was too naturally charismatic for his own good.
Finally stopping at the correct floor, Jeonghan got off the elevator while you remained inside, thinking that maybe it was a good idea to just wait for him in there. This wasn't a common hour for other idols to head in or out of the building anyway, so the elevators would likely remain unused while you waited.
Jeonghan had a different idea, however, standing at the entrance of the elevator as he looked back at you expectantly, nodding his head for you to follow him. When you silently shook your head at him, he groaned annoyingly, reaching to grab onto your hand and pull you to him.
"If you wanted me to hold your hand so badly you could've just said so," he mocked, squeezing it as he pulled you to him. You attempted to let go of his hand, but his grip was too harsh. It's not that you didn't want to hold it, but more like you were too nervous to do so, which he likely caught on to but didn't care for.
"What, scared someone will see us?", he snickered, "Would it be that terrible to be spotted holding hands with me? I'd be the best dating scandal of your life," he giggled, voice growing louder when you laughed along with him, "Oh! A smile? So you do like me, huh?"
"God, are you this flirty with everyone?", you groaned, squeezing his hand extra hard until he winced, giggling at your attempt to harm him.
"You're just fun to rile up," he confessed, leading you to a door you'd never seen before, "This is a shared studio a few Seventeen members use. Ever met any of them?", he asked as he stopped in front of the door, still not letting go of your hand.
"Am I meeting them now?", your eyes widened, "We did a dance challenge with Seungkwan and Vernon, but that's it," you revealed, using the correct honorifics for both that you did not use for Jeonghan.
"So formal. Cute," he snickered, "Well, you're about to meet a few more. Don't be nervous," he started, "If you're able to keep up with me, they'll like you. You're hard not to like," he smiled in a comforting way, not snickering at you for the first time ever.
Before you could respond, the door opened from the other side, revealing who you knew to be Boo Seungkwan of Seventeen with an annoyed scowl on his face, only dropping it upon seeing you.
"Yah! Yoon Jeongha- Oh, hi!", he interrupted himself halfway through his nagging as soon as he saw you, eyes going from Jeonghan's to yours to your interlocked hands, causing his head to tilt in curiosity, "We've met, right?," he bowed, uttering your name and offering you a smile, "Are you holding her hostage?", he asked towards Jeonghan, noting his tight grip on your hand.
"This is my new friend," Jeonghan introduced you despite Seungkwan having already said your name, gesturing towards your interlocked hands, "She's helping me out lately."
Without further explanation, Seungkwan moved aside in order to let the two of you in. Throughout it all, Jeonghan refused to let go of your hand, toying with your fingers at times. Inside were three more members who you could recognize to be Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo and Lee Jihoon. As a fresh junior in the company, the name of every single senior was common knowledge to you. Not only was Seventeen a huge name in the industry, but they were one of the biggest names within the company itself. You'd also spotted their loud interactions throughout the building a few times in the past.
— This was one of the reasons as to why your heart began going a mile a minute the moment you walked in to the room to find the three men (along with Jeonghan and Seungkwan) staring at you with a curious look in their eye.
Bowing at every member, you meep'd out a quick 'hello' and stalked behind Jeonghan, who only chuckled at your shy demeanor, "Don't be shy. They don't bite," he squeezed your hand.
"Uh, Jeonghan? Do you have a hostage?", asked Wonwoo, reaching out to you to shake your free hand in introduction, "Hi, I'm Wonwoo. Sorry about him," he gestured towards Jeonghan with a chuckle.
"Your emotional support toys weren't enough? Upgraded to a human now?", Mingyu joined in, also offering you a handshake, "I saw your group's last comeback. Great job," he praised, offering you a genuine smile.
Jihoon remained silent as he sat with his eyes glued to his equipment, simply humming and nodding along to every statement leaving their lips. He seemed slightly disinterested, but not rude about it. Jihoon appeared more so amused by Jeonghan's shenanigans, not questioning your presence whilst remaining welcoming of it.
"I'm just here to record my part. Jihoon's been nagging me for a week," he whined, moving to drop himself on the couch and pulling you along with him by the hand. Your interlocked hands began to become clammy, but Jeonghan made no move nor mention to fix that, so you simply ignored it too.
"You're mean," said Wonwoo, "Be mindful of your junior, she looks nervous," he scolded lightheartedly, "You okay? Want a water or something? Did he just steal you or is there a story behind this?", he nodded towards your hands, voice soothing your nerves.
They were all overly likable, which made sense considering their decade-long career as idols. Their fan service must be amazing, you thought to yourself.
Before you could respond, Jeonghan interrupted, "I'm borrowing her face for the scanner in the artists' elevator," he explained, "It's an exchange of goods and services, no hostages here," he nodded to himself, "And we're new best friends, clearly," he grinned as he gestured to your hands, squeezing once again.
Seungkwan chuckled, "There'd be no need for that if you just rode with me in the mornings," he rolled his eyes, taking a seat to the other side of you on the couch.
"You get up at four in the morning, I'm not insane," whined Jeonghan, "and this way I get to hang out with my new friend. Win-win."
You gave a tight-lipped smile in response, rolling your eyes at him and earning a chuckle from the other boys in the room.
"You're going to have to let go of her hand to go into the recording room," Jihoon spoke up, turning around on his chair to look at Jeonghan on the couch and chuckling lowly when his reaction was an exaggerated groan.
"I take what I said back; you are a hostage. Don't leave, I'll be right back," he turned to you before heading over to the small recording room located inside the studio.
Laughing, you nodded, settling comfortably on the couch as you watched him from your spot. The other two men who remained standing made their way to the couch sitting near you as Wonwoo handed you a cold water bottle with a smile. Meanwhile, you watched Jeonghan head into the room, making his way to the mic and putting on the large headphones hanging nearby.
With a few coughs to clear his throat, he began harmonizing with the melody Jihoon turned on as soon as he stepped foot in the small room. Jeonghan's voice immediately flowed perfectly with the music, following Jihoon's directions to perfection as he recorded the lines instructed to him. You were completely distracted by the sight of him in his element that you were unable to pay attention to your surroundings. There were no nerves in you at your current predicament when you were so absorbed by him.
But as soon as he started singing, he finished, letting out another loud cough before exiting the room and making his way to your side again, practically demanding your hand once more.
"They were right," he nodded once you gave him your hand, looking down at you from your seat on the couch, "You're my new emotional support object, sorry," he shrugged, helping you up by pulling at your hand.
With goodbyes as quick as your introduction had been, Jeonghan led you to the door before being interrupted by Jihoon speaking up, "Bring her around more often. You were way more efficient and less annoying this time," he hummed to himself, laughing when Seungkwan began to laugh at his statement. Before you could leave, Seungkwan offered you a hug, though your hand remained on Jeonghan's.
Once in the hallway, Jeonghan turned to you and laughed, "They like you," he sing-sang, "Guess I get to keep you around."
"Is it up to me at all?", you huffed half-heartedly.
"Nope. Let's go," he grinned once more, pulling another laugh from you.
Jeonghan's shenanigans and your daily meetings every morning continued very consistently. It was rare when you'd show up at the elevators at the exact same agreed time and not find him there waiting for you with a drink in hand.
Your interactions only grew more and more friendly with time, with you rolling your eyes at him time and time again and him insisting on dragging you with him for other errands every so often. Fortunately, the news of you two being on friendly terms did not seem to go past a few other idols in the building. Strangely enough, it was rare to actually bump into other artists in the vast space that Hybe covered.
Only a few weeks into knowing Jeonghan and the annual Hybe Game Caterers event came up. This was something he brought up occasionally whilst sharing an elevator ride with you — and even through text every so often, as he had charmed you for your phone number just a few days in.
Being Hybe's newest group, you couldn't help the nerves you felt in appearing at Hybe's second ever Game Caterers event. With big names such as Seventeen, BTS, TXT and such, you felt completely out of your league even being present. You knew it was an amazing opportunity to get new audiences interested in your group, but you barely knew any other groups or idols on a personal level. It wasn't as if you could stalk behind Jeonghan during the event, which meant you'd simply have to rely on your own charm in order to gain some screen time.
Jeonghan, in the meantime, insisted you team up with him in any games that may allow for it. Despite your insistence that he pretend not to know you during the event, he'd cackle and promise he'd make sure to gift you some of his own screen time — how? he didn't explain, which made you even more anxious at the idea.
Once the day of the games came, you felt far more relaxed. This was your first time seeing such popular faces so up close, not having had the chance to attend any comeback shows nor award shows at the same time as the bigger names in Kpop. However, despite all nerves you could've felt, they were all far too charismatic, making you realize that Jeonghan's personality was simply an outlier; he had his own charm, but overall he was a menace to your sanity.
He continued to prove this to you throughout the event, constantly keeping his eyes on you and winking any time it was his turn to do something that might entertain you. Unfortunately for yourself, it worked every time, making you cackle at all his dumb acts for your attention.
That was not where he stopped, however. It seemed as if Jeonghan wanted people to know he was seeking out reactions from you. Occasionally, he'd walk over to your group's table, sitting with you all too casually, earning some nervous giggles from your group mates. He played this out by dragging Seungkwan with him and hitting a few other tables afterward. However, you knew his goal had been to be in close proximity with you.
The worst of all had been when teams were assigned randomly, in which Jeonghan had somehow managed to cheat in order to be placed in your team. You were unsure how exactly he had managed to do this, but from your understanding it seemed like his groupmate, Joshua, had gotten assigned to your team, only to be nagged into giving away his spot to Jeonghan.
And so now you stood in a single file line with a red vest laying on your chest, matching with that of Yoon Jeonghan's, who was standing right behind you with a pleased smile on his face.
"Jeonghan," you groaned, turning around to finally acknowledge his presence.
"What?", he feigned dumb, doing his classic cackle at your annoyed expression.
"You really want to ruin my career, don't you?", you scowled, squinting your eyes over the heavy sun shining from behind Jeonghan.
Detecting your discomfort from the sun, Jeonghan grabbed onto your shoulders, side stepping the two of you until it hit his face rather than yours. No word is uttered about his act of kindness as he continued to grin at you in a satisfied manner.
"I'm helping you, c'mon," he tsk'd, "Ever watched Going Seventeen? Well— Okay, don't make that face, I know you've seen it, all of Korea has seen it. I can win you any game and get you all the screen time possible," he held his pinky up to you, nudging you until you budged and intertwined yours with his own, "Then you'll be, uh, what are you, fourth gen?," he waited for your reluctant nod, "Okay, you'll be fourth gen's It Girl," his hand went up to ruffle your hair, earning something akin to a growl from you, "We'll be the inter-generational It Couple."
"Couple?," you tilted your head in wonder, "You're an idiot," you murmured, having a hard time hiding your smile at his masterplan.
"It was bound to happen. This whole 'will they won't they' thing we have going on is too good to pass up on," he continued, "C'mon, let's use today as a test-run," he insisted, earning another annoyed reaction from you, this time in the form of a half-hearted fist bump. With one last 'Eyyy' from him, he turned back around to pay attention to the rules of the following game.
Various games came and went, with some being in co-ed groups and others within your already-established groups, but with all of them (without fail) involving some sort of interaction between you and Jeonghan. Continuously aware of the cameras recording, you worried about how your constant interactions would be taken by audiences once the show was edited and posted, but his easy-going disposition made it difficult for you to actually do anything about it.
By the time the recording was over, Jeonghan had made it clear to all his members and yours (and anyone who was paying attention, really) that he had some sort of interest in you. No words nor statements had been needed as his actions made his intentions extremely obvious. You'd received a few teasing glances from his group mates at times (though you were sure they were probably meant for the man in question), making you shy away from Jeonghan, but he never strayed away for too long.
The aftermath of the show was different for everyone involved. Some groups left for other schedules while others went out for a meal with a few staff members. Then there was Jeonghan, who had decided to skip out on a meal with his friends and staff in order to stalk after you and your own group, not saying a word as he followed you to the entrance of Hybe, disregarding any teasing giggles coming from your groupmates. You'd occasionally look back at him, rolling your eyes at him as you held back an entertained smile.
Even as you got into the elevator, he silently followed with a pleased smile, still not speaking a word to justify his presence. It wasn't until your groupmates got off the elevator that Jeonghan actively tried to catch your attention by physically holding you back from exiting the elevator, waving your friends goodbye for you as the doors closed behind them.
With his arms wrapped around your middle, he practically bear-hugged you in order to keep you from leaving, laughing when you half-heartedly attempted to make it out of his hold in order to escape.
"You don't really wanna leave, stop fighting it," he whined, letting you go when you finally halted your attempts, groaning jokingly at his victory.
"Why'd you kidnap me this time?", you asked once you turned around to face him.
He shrugged, "I dunno. Company? Take us to my floor. I have some ramen and beer stashed away in the dressing room," he coerced, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
"You're bribing me with food again," you noted, crossing your arms as you pretended to mull it over.
"Well, it appears like that's the only way to get you to hang out with me," he booped your nose, giggling when you scowled at him.
"You have that hard of a time getting girls to give you attention?"
"Hah," he exclaimed, "Girls love me. Not my fault the one I'm into needs to be coerced into spending time with me," he said as the most casual statement uttered by man.
He appeared entirely unaffected by his statement, as if this was not news to you. His flirting had gotten more and more blatant throughout the short time you'd known him, but he had never professed his affections so blatantly. It made sense for him to be so forward now that he had shown everyone his clear interest in you, but having the words said to your face still made you lose your breath for a short moment.
"Ah, speechless, huh?", he grinned, "You can't tell me this comes as a surprise to you," he tilted his head to the side in curiosity, "You're a smart girl, c'mon," he took a few short steps to you, hand coming to push your hair out of your face as you continued to stare at him with a semi-shocked look in your face.
Still inside a closed, yet unmoving elevator, you smacked his hand away in a friendly yet bratty matter, making him chuckle, "Stop, you're gonna get me in trouble," you complained.
Stepping even closer to you, he backed you against a wall, the grin on his face never leaving him. Meanwhile, your brain was overriding itself in figuring out how to react. You let him back you against the wall whilst his hands remained to his sides, not actually caging you and allowing you escape if you really wished for it. Leaning down a bit, he stood face to face with you, once again pushing your hair out of your face before running a lone finger down your cheek as he pouted down at you, cooing in a way some may read as condescending, but actually loving coming from someone like Jeonghan.
"You know that if you actually tell me to fuck off, I will, right?" he muttered, eyes fluttering for the first time ever. His eye contact was usually unmatched, but this time his eyes seemed to begin getting hooded; likely due to the proximity of your faces.
"Yes," you nodded quietly, breath caught in your throat.
"And you know if you stop me right now, I won't go through with this, right?", he followed up, face somehow even closer.
"Uh-huh," you nodded again, eyes matching his own hooded ones.
Nodding to himself, he grinned for a split second before closing the gap, soft and slow in his movements as he pressed his lips to your awaiting ones. The kiss was a mere peck at first, lacking any fluidity or movement. It took your reciprocation for it to become something more, as Jeonghan waited for your arms to make their way to his flat chest before he finally put his hands on you, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you to him.
Finally, his lips moved, opening and wrapping around yours, tongue entering your mouth and coaxing yours to play with his own. Soft yet high sighs left his lips as he hummed into your mouth, kissing you in a way far too sensual for an elevator located in your shared workplace.
A large hand went up to your cheek, holding it delicately as he tilted your face upwards in order to gain optimal access to your mouth. Similarly, your hands traveled north, finding their way to his long hair and pulling at it every time he did something particularly enticing with his tongue. Without your hands on his chest, the empty space between you was reduced when he pulled you closer in order to press your chests together, sighing when he felt your hardened nipples through your lack of bra.
Before it could go too far, however, the menace of a man decided to pull away, chuckling when you followed his lips, still in the daze he'd put you in.
"You didn't push me away," he whispered with a breathy laugh, thumb playing with your bottom lip up until you childishly nibbled at it, getting a 'Yah!' from him and another laugh.
"Count your blessings, I still could," you challenged, knowing you did not mean it at all.
"Are you sure?", he leaned close once more, "So you don't want me to do this again?" he murmured as he lightly pressed his lips to yours again, immediately putting you in another daze.
He pulled away even quicker this time around, laughing at the defeated look on your face at your lack of ability to staying true to your word when it concerned him.
"That's what I thought," chuckled Jeonghan, finally putting some decent space between you, "So, ramen and beer?", he asked, holding his hand up as an offer for you to hold it, humming with a smile when you grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.
"Ramen and beer," you agreed, unable to hold back a smile as you stood side by side once again.
"Ever gonna let me take you on a date outside of this place?", asked Jeonghan a few days after that day in the elevator.
No more kissing had occurred between the two of you, though hand holding remained pretty present in your relationship — though that was a strong word to use. His flirting continued to get worse, and so did the attention he gave you around staff and other idols, but he had not kissed you again nor had he done anything you'd expect from someone who had been quite adamant about his intentions with you.
You hadn't questioned it, simply enjoying it when he did things slightly out of your comfort zone in order to demonstrate his interest. Could you be blamed? It was The Yoon Jeonghan who was after you, after all.
But a few days had been more than enough to drive you up a wall.
Spending almost every day in that elevator with him, at such close proximity, — pondering about when the next kiss would be — was driving you insane. It was obvious to you by now that he wanted you to make the first move when it came to that area of your relationship. As far as he was concerned, he'd simply continue to buy you meals and take up your time (and mind) as much as possible.
This was why you completely ignored his initial question and rebutted with your own.
"Date? When are you going to explain that kiss?," you practically defied him, staring him down as he gave you one of his usual satisfied smiles.
"Explain it? I wanted to kiss you, so I did," he shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth before mouth-feeding you one, "If you want more of that, you're going to have to let me take you on a date."
"Jeonghan," you began, "You know we can't do anything outside these walls. If we get spotted, we're fucked," you stated the obvious.
"C'mon, just let me make you dinner in my apartment. I'll even kick Seungkwan out so we can have some privacy," he smirked, hand reaching out to yours in order to try and entice you further.
"Are you propositioning yourself to me?", you smiled at him, mouth open and tongue touching the roof of your mouth in amusement.
"Good, you're catching on," he smirked to himself, taking a short pause to cough as a way to clear his throat, shaking his head and trying again, "I meant as a date. I'm not that crude."
You sighed again, "Fine," you began, rolling your eyes at the way his face suddenly lit up, "but you have to actually make me dinner. If I show up and there's no candlelit dinner on your table, I'm leaving," you threatened jokingly, unable to picture Jeonghan hosting a date so fancy. He pegged you more as the casual date type of guy.
"Candlelit? I can work with that. Wear something pretty for me then," he added as a condition, poking you with his chopstick to emphasize his point, "If I'm making a fancy dinner, then we need to look the part.
"Okay, then wear something other than sweats. I swear I've never seen you wear anything that's not three times your size," you pointed out his usual fashion style, even referring to this moment in which he was wearing an oversized shirt and oversized sweats to match.
"I'll dress up for you, baby, no need to beg," his lips drew up into a smirk that seemed to never leave his lips for too long, putting down his chopsticks in favor of offering you his pinky, "I'll have my driver take us tomorrow after you're done at the company," he said as you linked fingers, pressing his thumb against your own.
"You better not ruin my career, Yoon Jeonghan," left your mouth, though with mere entertainment in your tone.
~
"God, you took it really seriously, didn't you?" you gaped at the dapper Yoon Jeonghan standing in front of you, holding the door open as he reached for your hand in order to let you in.
At the end of the day, your plan had changed a bit, deciding that Jeonghan needed some extra time to get the meal and himself ready for you, and that he wanted you to have time to 'doll yourself up for him' (his words, not yours). And so you went home the following day, took an embarrassing three hours to dress up as pretty as you could — as that strange feminine urge to groom yourself to perfection took over — and had your driver drop you off at the luxury apartment you knew Jeonghan and Seungkwan shared at around 8pm.
The first thing that welcomed you into his home was Jeonghan himself, except he looked very different. You had seen pictures and videos of him dressed to the nines for music videos, awards shows, you name it, but you had never seen the man so insanely put together in the flesh until this moment. Yoon Jeonghan was always a sight to behold, no matter if he was makeup-less and donning a messing man-bun, but the sight in front of you left your mouth agape. He had decided to go for a three-piece suit (too fancy for your taste, but that was likely his intent), chuckling when you rolled your eyes at the bowtie. His makeup was done and his hair beautifully styled. The jury was out on who had out-dressed the other (though it was likely it was Jeonghan).
"Okay, so no bowtie?", he giggled as he closed the door behind you, ripping it off with an ease that was only achievable due to the fact that it was apparently a clip-in and not a real bowtie. As per usual, this caused you to laugh, achieving the goal of its presence.
His hand made its way to your lower back, leading you further into his house as he walked you. It took him an appalling thirty seconds to move closer to you and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked, granting you a moment of full sincerity with zero banter behind it.
You'd chosen to don a red slip dress, with a red lip and winged eyeliner to match. It wasn't too elegant of a look, but it was perfect for either a candlelit dinner or a night clubbing; you went for versatility, unsure of Jeonghan's unpredictable behavior.
Before you could thank him or blush at his comment, you'd completed the short distance to his dining room that had been just one room away from the entrance. The sight made any other reaction from his compliment leave you, distracting you completely.
It wasn't too elegant nor abnormal for a candlelit dinner, but it still surprised you that Jeonghan had actually followed along with what you'd meant as simple banter — he had actually cooked you and amazing-smelling dinner and lit a few candles throughout the room.
"Dude, this is too much," you gaped, turning back to him, only to be trapped by his arms wrapping around your waist. There was a pleased smile on his face at your astonished reaction.
"You challenged me," he said, eyes squinting at you, "You know better than to challenge me," it was said in a serious tone, though fully in jest, "Can I tell you that you look beautiful again, or would that be cheesy?"
"You can say it as many times as you want," you gave into him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, pulling him a little lower in your direction. He accepted this with no complaint, intertwining his own hands around the small of your back.
"God, stop looking at me like that," he groaned at the smile you were giving him as you looked up at him, his hands continuing to run up and down the small of your back, clearly picking it as a favorite part of your body at the moment.
"Why? What are you gonna do about it?", you challenged him.
"It might've taken me two hours and one extinguisher to cook that dinner, but I'd be willing to let it go to waste," he warned, front teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip as he stared you down with defiance in his eyes.
You pouted petulantly at him, giving in to his banter for the nth time, "Oh, so you really were propositioning yourself to me the other day, huh?", you cocked your head to the side, raising your brows in challenging manner, "I thought this was meant to be a date and nothing more?"
His hands tightened around you, pulling you close enough for your chests to rub together, huffing out an annoyed breath, "Believe it or not, I don't have enough ingenious in me to keep this conversation going forever. Are you going to let me kiss you or are you going to force us through a subpar dinner I burnt three separate times?", he whined, chuckling halfway through when you giggled at his statement.
"I'm not stopping you," you murmured, leaning up and rubbing your nose against his own as if to dare him to take action.
Never a man to back away from a challenge, Jeonghan's speech ended there, closing the gap between you as his lips landed on your own with a mixture of sensuality and roughness. Loyal to their fidgeting habits, his hands remained on your hips, fingers squeezing the plush there every so often as you let out tiny breaths into his mouth.
It was embarrassing to count the times you'd thought about kissing him ever since that first time, having it invade your mind more often than not in the short period of time between then and now. The soft sounds he'd made into your mouth and the touches of his hands had been imprinted in you, making you silently and pathetically yearn for more as he continued his usual flirtations. Finally arriving at a point where he finally had you completely alone and with no distance imaginable, you let yourself go into the kiss, hoping it would go further than last time. The circumstances were more than agreeable this time around, anyway.
Seemingly, Jeonghan agreed with your silent pleas, slowly walking you over to the couch located somewhere in the large combination of dining room and living room inside his apartment. No words were exchanged, as they would've interrupted the consistent locking of lips, but your gasp was still registered by him when you suddenly felt yourself dip and be manhandled into lying horizontally on the couch.
Now lying down, it was easy for Jeonghan to truly invade all your senses. Still fully clothed, he laid on top of you, knees settling on both sides of your hips as to not lay his entire weight on you. The locking of lips did not seize, continuing as you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. The cocky man chuckled into your mouth at how insistent you seemed in kissing him, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. He had opted for close-mouthed kisses, making you groan at every silent denial for you to deepen the kiss.
"Stop being a little shit," you groaned when he refused to let your tongue enter his mouth for the nth time.
"You want me sooo bad," he grinned, kissing at your cheek as your eyes rolled once more.
"Are you going to be this annoying when you're inside me?," your head turned to the side, making you be the one to avoid his kisses this time around, but that didn't bode well for the boy.
"Yah," he whined, "It's not fun when you do it. Just let me kiss you," he slurred, repositioning himself slightly to let his hips find the height of your own, finally kissing you how you'd been wanting. He disconnected his lips momentarily just a few seconds after, pushing his hips against yours decidedly, "And, for the record, I'll be everything but annoying while I'm fucking you," he murmured as his last words.
That's when his kiss became intense and decided, exploring every inch of your mouth while his hips chased your own with a passion you did not believe Jeonghan could possess. He'd always seemed like the lazier of his members, like he'd he the type to lay back and unbuckle his pants for whoever was lucky enough to get him in bed. However, he had proved to you time and time again that he was actively interested in pursuing you — especially now as he held onto your legs, wrapping them around his waist to ensure his hardness could hit perfectly against the very thin cloth of the panties under your ridden up dress.
"Fuck, you already feel so good," he rasped, lips finding your neck, "Take this pretty dress off for me, yeah?", he nudged at the strap of your dress with his nose, kissing the bare skin he found there.
With only a nod and a whine from you, he got to business, hands reaching behind your back as you arched it to grant him access, blindly unzipping it and lowering the straps from your arms whilst still laying down. An uncharacteristically low groan left him upon discovering your lack of bra, making him look to you with a pained look in his eye before dipping down to kiss at your breasts.
Nimble fingers graced the length of your arms, creating goosebumps in their wake as they one of them reached your breast while the other squeezed at your hip intermittently. One of your breasts was trapped by his hand, the nipple tortured by his thumb while your other breast suffered through licks and nips from his mouth. Heavy sighs were breathed out against your tit m, mixed with the occasional groan as his hips continued canting onto your own. Your dress was uncomfortably bunching at your middle, but it remained in the back of your mind as Jeonghan occupied the rest of it.
It didn't take long for you to grow frustrated at the lack of nudity demonstrated by the man on top of you. Your hands mindlessly pulled at his suit jacket and began pulling it off, only getting it down to his elbows due to his lack of aid in removing it. Next was his button-up, which you fully unbuttoned as his lips came back up to your own, chuckling at your insistence. Once almost undressing him, he finally disconnected your lips, hastily throwing off his top and unbuttoning his pants. He looked down at you with heavy lids as he pulled his pants low enough to uncover his thighs and remain in nothing but his boxers. Next came your panties, which he slowly traced his the tips of his fingers, toying at your puffy cunt through the fabric long enough for you to release a few tortured whines.
"Jeonghan!", you scolded, getting a snicker from him before he actually aided you in the removal of your panties. Lifting your hips, you silently instructed him to throw off your dress the rest of the way, now fully nude under him.
The last piece of clothing separating you were his boxers, much to your despair. Your ached to reach up to a kneeling Jeonghan who continued to stand almost completely still above you, hand pressing at his cock through the cloth as he peered at you as if he wanted to swallow you whole.
"Are you going to do anything?", you complained from under him, hands attempting to reach his cock but being prevented by him, too occupied in taking you in to allow you to touch him.
"I'm enjoying the sight," he hummed, eyes taking turns between your open legs, damp breasts and desperate eyes, "God, I don't even know where to start," he groaned, sounding genuinely pained.
Pained? You could work with that. Maybe this was your turn to tease him as he always did ti you.
Sitting up as best you could whilst under him, you reached up to him, running your hands from his pelvis to his chest, fingers shyly pinching at his nipples. Your mouth found his neck, licking its way to his ear to nibble at the lobe. Within seconds Jeonghan was putty under you, with one of his hands wrapping around you to pull you closer. You kissed sensually at his ear, whispering unspeakable filth into it that had him groaning. Tilting your head to the side, you took a peak at his face. He had a satisfied yet pained look painting his pretty features. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth agape, hiccuping a groan at your words.
"Should've known you were filthy," he grunted, burying his face in your neck, helping you back into your lying position so he could truly bury himself in you, "It's in your eyes ... Always looked at me like you wanted me to take you right in that elevator," he added, hands coming down to messily rid himself of his boxers.
His hips were leveled with your own, almost touching your cunt but not just yet. Without thinking, you canted your hips upward, managing to get his hardness to grace at your cunt just perfectly. This drew a matching groan from both your lips, making Jeonghan cough halfway through his dirty talk.
"Oh, you're that desperate? Okay, pretty, I'll fuck you. Don't need to beg me so much," he mocked, positioning himself to finally enter you, but unable to help himself in teasing your clit with his tip for a few moments in order to draw just a couple more cries from you. With a chuckle, he finally began entering you, gasping a silent groan at the feeling of finally being enveloped by you.
"God," he grumbled, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure, "Tell me when I can move," he practically pleaded.
"Just move," you whined, "It's already good."
Your green light was all he needed to begin pumping in and out of you, gasping out praise every so often. His hands remained on your hips, squeezing at the skin whenever it felt extra good to fuck into you. Clammy skin and lewd sounds of slapping took up all your senses, making you almost miss Jeonghan's words as he began low rambles into your ear.
"Do you even know how long I've wanted you?", he started, breath heavy against your ear, making you want to bury yourself in his skin, "Always wanted to talk to you, but- fuck- but the guys told me I shouldn't as- as your senior," he stuttered in between groans, "But I couldn't let my chance pass when you helped me that day ... We just clicked," he confessed, groaning loudly when you tightened at his unexpected confession.
"Han ...", you sighed, gripping his shoulders as if your life depended on it, "I, fuck, really?"
He nodded against you, kissing the skin he could reach, "I like you so much, you have no idea," he continued, speeding up his hips, "Tell me you like me back," he whined with a bit of humor in his voice. It was impossible for him to let things become too serious for too long — something you really liked about him.
"I like you, Hannie," you humored him, using the nickname he'd asked you to use all those weeks ago, giggling in between sighs of pleasures when he groaned at it.
"Don't call me that right now, you're so mean," he whined, biting lightly at your skin in defiance, "I'm trying to make this fun for you."
"Then keep fucking me," you insisted, "Hannie," you couldn't help but add with a girlish and exaggerated moan.
"You're provoking me? Really? Again? Okay, brat," he huffed, hands finding the back of your legs to wrap them higher on his waist, ensuring his cock could now piston in and out of you in a way that had your eyes rolling back.
Despite his lazy persona, he was a beast as he fucked you, specially after you'd invoked that bratty side of him that couldn't allow you to out-brat him. It was toe-curling to think about how having you under him provoked this side of him to come out; the side that made him lose all inhibitions and break him down to his most animalistic desires as he fucked you. Any lack of energy was replaced by a stamina that made the slapping of skin so embarrassingly loud you couldn't help but blush. That, combined with his nonexistent shyness in letting out every moan threatening to leave his lips made it the most pleasurable experience for you.
"Sound so pretty ... You're driving me crazy," he grunted in a pained chuckle, "Gonna make me cum ... Fuck, come with me? Yeah, pretty? Need to feel you cum around me before I fill you up," he rambled, hand suddenly sneaking between your bodies and attacking your clit without any warning. You could no longer banter with him, too drunk on the feeling to vocalize anything other than mewls of pleasure.
Jeonghan's hips combined with the feeling of his fingers assaulting your clit were all you needed to lose yourself to your orgasm, almost dragging him down with you as you tightened around him.
"F-fuck, you're cumming? Is it that good, baby? Shit, took it so good for me, hmm?", he continued talking you through it, humming back a groan when you tightened just enough for him to reach his own high, "O-oh, God ... C-cumming, shit. Where?", he was frantic in asking, his gigantic eyes growing two times bigger as he looked to yours for guidance, eyebrows furrowing further at every passing second his orgasm threatened to take him down.
"Inside, H-hannie," you sighed out, mellowing out from your former orgasm. Another whine exited your lips at the breathiest cry leaving the pretty boy above you, whining out desperate praise at the privilege it was to cum inside you. It was likely Jeonghan knew about the birth control idols were usually put under, but his reaction told you he was appreciative nonetheless.
"So fucking good .... God, you're so good, so pretty, so perfect," the praise was endless, making you want to be the sole cause of his pleasure until the end of time.
Once finally emptied out, his energetic persona died out quite quickly, instantly morphing himself to your side as he nudged you aside to make space for him on the couch. Being large enough to fit you both, you snuggled together, Jeonghan nuzzling that pointy nose into your hair as you two regained consciousness. It was amusing how easily he morphed into his usual touchy and lazy persona just seconds after fucking you an inch of your life.
"Hmph," he hummed into your skin, nuzzling so much it seemed he was trying to enter your skin, "You're soft after sex, y'know that?", he thought out loud, leaving mindless kisses behind.
"You're so weird," you huffed, jokingly pushing him away but adoring the warmth that pooled in your heart at his whine in complaint, accompanied by him pulling you even closer.
"Yeah, but you like me weird," he reminded you.
You allowed a beat or two of silence to consume you before turning further toward his side, cuddling into him in as the comfort between lovers after sex invaded the room.
"Did you mean what you said?"
He hummed questioningly, too lost in the comfort to think back to what you meant.
"Did you like me before we met in that elevator?", your voice was meek, reminiscent of those mere five minutes of shyness you felt when you first met Jeonghan, soon overtaken by the natural comfort his presence brought upon such a short time.
"Yeah," he stated simply, "Seungkwan sent me a video of your group covering one of our songs in your debut showcase and I thought you were cute," he chuckled fondly at the memory, "Then I saw you at the company a few times and thought you were the cutest thing," he booped your nose annoyingly, "I wasn't planning on doing anything about it, but like I said, we clicked. You looked shy, but the moment I spoke to you, you were fed up of my shit. I liked that about you," he hummed.
You couldn't help laughing at that, "You liked me because I was rude to you?"
"I mean, it's not often that my juniors speak to me like that. It's always so formal," he blegh'd in an exaggerated manner, "I can't really explained it. It was just a gut feeling, y'know?"
You thought back to how comfortable you felt in his presence that first day, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I know," you smiled as you reached over to find his lips, pecking them sweetly.
"Dinner's probably gone bad by now, by the way," he spoke up after the kiss, guiding your hand to his head for self-indulgent scratches.
"You didn't actually invite me over to have dinner," you reminded him humorously.
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I didn't."
to read short 2.4k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!
content: smut, afab reader, lots of banter with the rest of seventeen, jeonghan is bullied by you and his members, mentions of oppa (only once and in a teasing way), small age gap, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1004 (teaser); 2484 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"You're going to get me in so much tro- Stop!", you couldn't help the girlish squeal that left your mouth at Jeonghan's careless roughhousing.
His hands wouldn't leave your waist, glued to the dip of your waist as he followed you around Seventeen's floor as you attempted to leave.
After the ruse to keep you around for his elevator rides died down, now becoming Jeonghan's official girlfriend (his words), the menacing boy continued to play dumb, insisting that there was just no one else he entrusted with the task of helping him up and down the elevator. It was a dumb inside joke between you, but it made your insides giggle like a madwoman every time you thought about his insistence to keep you around as much as humanly possible, even now as you engaged in a formal and exclusive relationship.
Hanging out with him in the comfort of your group's floor was fine. Your group was a mere few months old, meaning there wasn't too much traffic from other groups or any outsiders there. However, the halls of Seventeen's floor always made you nervous. You always insisted on being behind closed doors when it came to Jeonghan's floor, knowing that Seventeen were incredibly popular, which resulted in their floor of the building being far more trafficked than your own.
As far as you were aware, only your respective groups, managers, and a few staff members were aware of your relationship. Many simply assumed there was something going on, but due to any lack of announcement of your relationship, there was no way to confirm it. That, and the many people who ended up shipping you after the release of Hybe's Game Caterers due to how insistent on sticking by your side Jeonghan had been during recording (damn you, Yoon Jeonghan).
"Bunny, c'mon," he whined, nuzzling his head in your neck as you continued to walk down the hallway, attempting to reach their practice room, "What's the point in dating if I can't even enjoy you at work?", he protested, feet bumping into yours due to the continuous proximity between your bodies.
"Han, if someone catches us-"
"I don't care. You know that," his touches finally halted as soon as you made it to the door, holding it open for you in a classic act of gallantry often displayed by him. It was always unspoken and casual, but you came to learn that Jeonghan was naturally caring for those around him, especially you. Doors were opened, oranges peeled, laces tied, you name it.
"Sure, you don't care," you started, crossing the small dressing room that connected the hallway and the practice room, Jeonghan behind you, "You're like fifty, you've been in the industry forever now. A measly dating rumor with your junior would do nothing to your career. I'd get accused of sleeping my way up and fuck everything up for my members," you argued back, not seriously mad nor argumentative, just continuing the thread of conversation.
Finally in the practice room, Jeonghan gaped at you, amused yet offended, "Fifty?", he gasped, getting the attention of a fellow Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan who just so happened to be sitting by nearby, "You're calling me old? I'm 28!," he insisted, whining at you and pulling at your arm as a child would.
Feigning annoyance, you held in your laugh at his childishness, knowing that this was always the result any time you attempted to tease him back. Before you could retaliate again, you were interrupted by the other men present in the room, having interrupted whatever conversation they were having with Jeonghan's loudness.
"You're the most lethargic man I know," said Chan with complete seriousness in his face, causing Seungkwan to burst laughing.
Dokyeom seemingly compartmentalized out of nowhere, also joining in as he crossed the door you'd just come in from, close enough to have heard the conversation, "Cradle robber," he teased as he walked by, sticking out his tongue at Jeonghan as the elder did it first.
Jeonghan gaped at all four of you, exasperated in his response, "We're like five years apart!," he whined in reference to your age difference, "If I'm lethargic, then what are you?", he yelled, pointing at Seokmin who had already walked away, still grinning in satisfaction at Jeonghan from his side of the room, beginning to join other members in their stretching.
Laughing throughout it all, you relished on Jeonghan's members ganging up on him, knowing it was usually him who teased the others. Ever since your relationship had become official, you spent more and more time around his groupmates — groupmates who found great enjoyment in teasing him over your relationship. You were never the butt of the joke. On the contrary, they'd encourage you to join in, knowing you were Jeonghan's one and only weakness.
Suddenly, Jeonghan turned to you, annoyed scowl on his face, "You! You don't get to join in and mock me. They're insulting your boyfriend, defend me!", he demanded, pouts and whines never leaving him.
You huffed, "Why should I defend you? I'm your junior, oppa," you used that term very strategically, only ever saving it to tease him or make him embarrassed in front of whoever was around.
Seungkwan all but cackled at the way Jeonghan stopped his annoyed rambling with a swiftness, gaping at you with his eyebrows all the way to his hairline. His mouth opened and closed, likely pondering a comeback for you. Within the short time you'd dated, Jeonghan's insistence that you call him by the correct honorific only got worse, but your denials remained. You calling him oppa at this moment meant only one thing to him: You wanted war.
Without further words, he grabbed you by the wrist, ignoring your surprised yelp as he pulled you with him towards the door you'd barely crossed mere minutes ago. Not really fighting him, you stumbled as you trailed behind him, waving a quick bye to his friends while Seungkwan whined at Jeonghan for his sudden exit.
...
find the 18+ continuation on patreon!
if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt scenarios#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader
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Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」
aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
“bwah!” a nudge.
“myah!” a shove.
and then—
“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.
“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.
and it was the baby—his baby.
your giggles filled the air in response.
“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”
the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.
you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”
a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”
“heav—pfft—”
“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”
“wha—no! that’s team effort!”
“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.
“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”
“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”
“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”
“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”
“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”
later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”
satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.
knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.
you really do love him, don’t you?
“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.
“satoru.”
“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—
you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”
“…?!”
for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.
“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.
“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”
. . .
safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#gojo x reader#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#dad!gojo#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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Forbidden Taste - L.H
P: Slytherin!Heeseung X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Teasing, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Angst, Misunderstandings, Jealousy, Myung Jaehyun Cameo, Incorrect Use Of Amortenia.
Synopsis: You’re not popular at Hogwarts, so why is Lee Heeseung, Slytherin royalty, so intent on having you? You don’t know, and you don’t question it—until jealousy and a pink potion threaten everything.
a/n: WHAT A JOURNEY IT HAS BEEN! Thank you all <3 all the members are now completed! (i changed the plot for this so many times, its insane)
want to read the other members? -> masterlist
--
You weren’t massively popular at Hogwarts, but people knew you. Not in the way that they’d scream your name in the corridors or seek you out during mealtimes, but enough that when your name came up in conversation, there’d be nods of recognition. Oh, yeah. Decent flyer. Smart enough to keep up in classes, but not obnoxious about it. You built your reputation in small, deliberate ways—early on, too. By the time you hit your third year, you realized it wasn’t just about house points or grades. If you didn’t carve out your place here, Hogwarts could chew you up and spit you out.
So, you made connections. Little alliances. You weren’t a name in bold letters, but you weren’t invisible either. A compliment here, a conversation there. Small, calculated acts of charm to ensure you weren’t just some shadow skulking through the hallways. Yet you never overdid it. Just enough to make sure you wouldn’t be forgotten.
And honestly, that was fine. You had your friends and housemates, the people who mattered to you most. The ones you could collapse with after a particularly grueling Potions lesson or laugh with over Butterbeer-flavored Bertie Bott’s Beans in the common room. It wasn’t the spotlight, but it was enough.
It’s weird how quickly that balance can shift, though. How one incident—one person—can flip everything upside down.
It really was funny—hilarious, even. You had no answer as to why he suddenly latched onto you, why he started pursuing you of all people. Lee fucking Heeseung. One of the most popular Slytherins in his year, practically Hogwarts royalty.
Usually, people would trip over their own feet for the chance to be seen with him. Heeseung had everything: pureblood lineage, one of the best Beaters Hogwarts had seen in years, a face straight out of Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Wizards list, and a charisma that could charm the scales off a dragon. He was smart, too—top of his classes in subjects he actually cared about—and everyone knew his family was filthy rich.
He was the kind of person others orbited around. Someone whose presence turned heads the moment he walked into a room. The kind of guy you were perfectly fine staying away from because people like him didn’t care about people like you. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he chose you.
All because you ran into him one day.
It wasn’t even that dramatic of an encounter. You were late for Transfiguration, books piled in your arms, hurrying down the corridor like your life depended on it. And then—bam. You’d slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Except brick walls didn’t have arms that steadied you as your books tumbled to the floor, and they definitely didn’t have sharp jawlines and a gaze that pinned you to the spot.
“Sorry!” you’d muttered, scrambling to pick up your books, too flustered to even look him in the eye. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t throw out the kind of snarky insult Slytherins were known for. He just… watched you. And when you dashed off down the corridor, cheeks burning with embarrassment, you thought that was the end of it.
Except it wasn’t.
After that, Heeseung started showing up. Everywhere.
At first, it was subtle. A glance in the Great Hall that lingered too long to be coincidental. A smirk when you passed him in the corridors. Then it escalated. Sitting at your table in the library, asking casually about your Charms essay while his friends shot curious looks your way. Offering to walk you to class, claiming it was “on his way” even when it clearly wasn’t. Stealing a seat beside you in Herbology, leaning closer than necessary to peek at your notes.
It didn’t take long for people to notice. Whispers started following you wherever you went, growing louder with every interaction. Your friends pestered you for answers you didn’t have, and his admirers glared daggers at you from across the room.
And all you could think was, Why? Why you? Out of all the girls fawning over him—purebloods, Quidditch stars, girls far prettier and more polished than you—what on earth made Lee Heeseung decide you were worth his attention?
You tried convincing yourself that it was a joke. Some elaborate Slytherin prank that you’d accidentally wandered into. Any day now, you’d wake up to Heeseung laughing in your face, surrounded by his friends, as he revealed that all of this—every smirk, every casual wave, every time he leaned in close enough for you to catch a whiff of his expensive cologne—was just for his own entertainment.
But the days passed, and the teasing you braced yourself for never came. If anything, Heeseung’s attention only intensified.
“I could help you with that, you know,” he offered one day during a particularly grueling Potions class. You’d been furiously scribbling notes, trying to keep up with Professor Slughorn’s lecture. Heeseung was perched on the edge of your shared table, his hand propping up his chin as he watched you.
“With what?” you asked without looking up, determined not to let his lazy, amused tone fluster you.
“Your notes,” he said, gesturing at your parchment. “Your handwriting’s awful. What if you can’t read it later?”
You shot him a glare, but he just grinned. “I’ll manage,” you said, shoving your notes further away from him for good measure.
Moments like that became your new normal. Heeseung showing up uninvited, weaving himself into your day like he belonged there. Offering to help you study, sneaking your favorite dessert onto your plate in the Great Hall, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you were long-lost friends.
And yet, despite your initial resistance, you found yourself softening. Heeseung wasn’t as insufferable as you’d assumed he’d be. Sure, he was cocky—he wouldn’t be Lee Heeseung if he weren’t—but he also had this disarming charm about him. He listened when you spoke, remembered the little things you mentioned in passing, and had a way of making you laugh when you least expected it.
You acted normal around him—or at least, you tried to. You didn’t show how much he affected you, how your pulse quickened when he leaned in close, the playful smirk on his lips as he talked to you about some trivial thing. You didn’t let it show when he’d take your books without asking, holding them effortlessly with one hand as if they weighed nothing, and you definitely didn’t let him see how your cheeks burned when he casually brushed his fingers against yours as he handed them back.
You didn’t react when he helped you in Potions either, his voice low in your ear as he whispered which ingredients to add next, his breath warm against your skin. Even when your heart stuttered, you kept your face neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he got under your skin.
And Merlin, did he love to push.
He’d ditch his friends without a second thought, his usual crowd of Slytherins calling after him as he veered off to sit with you instead. You’d hear their muffled complaints from across the room, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. He’d just flash them that infuriatingly perfect smile—the one that screamed, I know exactly what I’m doing,—and plop down next to you like he’d been there all along.
“Don’t you have other people to bother?” you’d mutter, barely glancing at him as he propped his chin on his hand, watching you with an intensity that made it impossible to focus on anything else.
“Why would I, when you’re so much more interesting?” he’d reply smoothly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that sent your stomach into an uninvited freefall.
But you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a blush or a flustered response. Instead, you’d roll your eyes and pretend to be annoyed, even as you caught yourself glancing at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.
The truth was, Heeseung made it harder and harder to ignore him. He wasn’t just persistent—he was thoughtful in ways you didn’t expect. He remembered the tiniest details, like how you hated licorice wands or how you preferred studying in the library’s quieter corners. He went out of his way to make your day just a little easier, sliding your favorite pastries onto your plate at breakfast or swapping out your worn-out quills with brand-new ones from his bag.
It was infuriating. And endearing. And confusing.
Maybe it was the way he always seemed to know when you needed cheering up, or the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, or the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room that mattered.
But you weren’t ready to admit it. Not to yourself, and definitely not to him. So, you kept acting normal, pretending like he didn’t affect you as much as he did.
At this point, even your friends couldn’t keep quiet about it. Every time Heeseung walked into a room and made a beeline for you, their eyebrows would raise a little higher. When he’d flash you one of his trademark grins or casually sling an arm around your shoulders, their teasing smirks were impossible to miss.
“So, are you two a thing, or what?” one of your friends finally asked during a late-night study session in the common room.
“No,” you said quickly, maybe a little too quickly, and their skeptical look said it all.
“Well, he certainly thinks you are,” another chimed in, grinning as they flipped through their Charms textbook. “You do realize half the school thinks you’re secretly dating, right?”
You rolled your eyes, brushing it off. “He’s just… like that. It’s probably some sort of game to him.”
But even as you said it, you weren’t so sure. Because if this was a game, Heeseung was playing it far too convincingly.
And then he went and completely blindsided you.
It was after Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class you shared with him. You’d just finished stuffing your notes into your bag, about to make your way to the library, when he appeared beside you, his usual confident grin plastered across his face.
“So,” he started casually, leaning against your desk. “Want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”
You froze, blinking at him like you hadn’t heard him properly. “What?”
“Hogsmeade,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You. Me. A date.”
Your brain stuttered at the word. A date?
“You’re joking,” you said, though your voice sounded a little less confident than you would’ve liked.
“I’m not,” he said simply, tilting his head and watching you with that annoyingly earnest expression that made it impossible to tell if he was messing with you.
“I… I can’t,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks grow warm. “I mean, thank you, but I don’t think—”
“Don’t think too hard about it,” he interrupted smoothly, cutting off your attempt at a polite rejection. “I like you. You like me—don’t even try to deny it,” he added quickly, smirking when you opened your mouth to argue. “So why not give it a shot?”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Heeseung, I—”
“Before you say no,” he said, leaning in closer, “think about this. What’s the worst that could happen? You have a good time with me? Sounds like a pretty low-risk situation, if you ask me.”
It was infuriating how he made it sound so simple, like agreeing to a date with him wasn’t the most intimidating thing in the world.
“I’m serious, Heeseung,” you said, trying to sound firm. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“And I’m serious,” he countered, his voice dropping slightly. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
The way he said it wasn’t pushy or aggressive—it was confident, certain, like he already knew you were going to say yes eventually. And maybe that’s what threw you off the most.
You glanced at him one last time before turning to leave the classroom, your lips pressed into a tight line.
And of course, he followed.
“Hey, wait!” he called, his voice echoing down the corridor as you walked ahead, refusing to look back.
“I said no, Heeseung,” you said over your shoulder, quickening your pace.
“And I said I’m not taking no for an answer,” he shot back, his footsteps ringing louder as he hurried to catch up with you. “You didn’t even give me a proper reason!”
“I don’t need to give you a reason!” you replied, exasperated, keeping your gaze fixed forward.
But he wasn’t giving up. He was persistent—too persistent. You could hear him muttering under his breath, probably running through a list of arguments to convince you, but before he could get another word out, you heard a loud, unmistakable yelp.
Pausing mid-step, you turned just in time to see Heeseung stumble over a loose stone jutting out of the floor, his arms flailing to keep his balance. He caught himself at the last second, straightening up and brushing off his robes like nothing happened.
“Smooth,” you said, unable to stop the amused quirk of your lips.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, jogging a few steps to close the distance between you.
But the second he got close, you picked up your pace again, determined not to let him win.
He didn’t stop, though. Heeseung was like a particularly annoying shadow, trailing after you with single-minded determination. Except this shadow seemed to have the worst luck imaginable.
Not five steps later, you heard a startled “Hey, watch it!” from a much shorter Ravenclaw student as Heeseung nearly crashed into them.
“Yeah, yeah! Sorry!” he called over his shoulder, not even slowing down as he kept his focus on you.
You didn’t bother hiding your grin this time, though you kept walking.
And then, just as he was about to catch up again, you saw it—a ghost floating lazily through the corridor ahead.
“Heeseung,” you said without stopping, your tone almost warning.
“What?” he asked, completely oblivious, his gaze fixed on you instead of what was in front of him.
You didn’t answer. You just waited for it to happen.
Sure enough, he strode directly into the ghost—a particularly dramatic one, judging by the loud whoosh and Heeseung’s subsequent startled shiver as he stumbled back.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, swiping at his robes as if it’d help.
“Maybe if you watched where you were going…” you said, finally stopping to face him, arms crossed over your chest as you raised an eyebrow.
He shook his head, his focus snapping back to you almost instantly. “I’ll watch where I’m going when you stop running away from me,” he said, his voice laced with determination.
You rolled your eyes, but before you could turn away again, he stepped closer, this time careful not to trip over anything or crash into anyone.
“Look,” he said, his tone softer now. “I know I’m being persistent. But it’s only because I really want you to say yes. Just one date. That’s all I’m asking. If you hate it, I’ll back off. But I think we’ll have a good time.”
For the first time, you hesitated. There was something about the way he looked at you—earnest, hopeful—that made it hard to brush him off like before. Heeseung wasn’t just being cocky now; he was being sincere. And it was that sincerity that made your resolve waver.
“One date,” he repeated, holding your gaze. “What do you say?”
You sighed, stopping long enough to turn and face him properly. His eyes were wide, his expression almost pleading but still holding that annoying confidence that made him, well, Heeseung.
“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “One date. But if I don’t enjoy it, that’s it. No more asking, no more following me around, no more…” You gestured vaguely toward him, “…whatever this is.”
His face broke into a grin so smug and victorious that you instantly regretted agreeing.
“Deal,” he said without hesitation. “But don’t worry, you’re going to love it.”
“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered, but the way his grin grew wider told you he’d already won this round.
“Alright, then,” he said, taking a step closer. Too close. You could feel the faintest brush of his robes against yours as he leaned in. “This Saturday, Three Broomsticks. Noon. I’ll even buy you Butterbeer.”
“Wow, how generous of you,” you deadpanned, but your heart was doing that annoying fluttering thing again.
“You’ll see,” he said, his voice dropping lower, teasing. “I’m full of surprises.”
Before you could fire back a snarky response, his hands moved, one settling on your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your breath hitched.
You weren’t sure what he was saying—something about how the Three Broomsticks had the best treacle tart, or maybe how he’d already booked a spot with Madam Rosmerta—but the words blurred in your head. All you could focus on was his hand, warm and firm, holding you in place. And his body, so close to yours that you could feel the faint heat radiating off him.
Your mind raced, trying to decide if you should pull away or just let him keep talking.
“…don’t tell me you’ve never tried the cinnamon hot chocolate there,” he said, his lips curving into another grin.
“What?” you blurted, blinking up at him, trying to drag your attention back to his actual words.
He chuckled, the sound low and soft, and you hated how it made your stomach flip.
“You weren’t even listening,” he teased, his thumb brushing lightly against your waist before he pulled back, giving you just enough space to breathe again.
“Maybe if you weren’t so close, I’d be able to concentrate,” you shot back, though your voice came out a little weaker than you’d intended.
Heeseung didn’t look fazed. If anything, he looked even more pleased with himself, like he knew exactly how flustered you were and wasn’t planning to let you forget it anytime soon.
“Guess I’ll have to tell you on our date, then,” he said, stepping back fully now, his smirk still firmly in place.
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned as you turned away, determined not to let him see just how much he was getting to you.
“Saturday,” he called after you as you started walking again, his tone light and cheerful. “Don’t forget!”
You didn’t answer, but you didn’t need to. The truth was, no matter how much you tried to deny it, you knew you wouldn’t forget. Not with the way your heart was still racing.
Saturday came faster than you expected, and by the time you were standing in front of the Three Broomsticks, you were already second-guessing your decision. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, right—because Heeseung was annoyingly persistent, and some traitorous part of you was curious to see what a date with him would actually be like.
You adjusted your scarf, the chill of the winter air biting at your cheeks. The sound of chatter and clinking glasses spilled out of the tavern, and for a brief moment, you considered turning around and pretending you’d forgotten. But before you could so much as take a step back, a familiar voice called out behind you.
“You’re early.”
You turned to see Heeseung approaching, dressed in his usual green-and-silver scarf, his black coat tailored perfectly to him. His hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and he wore that same confident smile that made your stomach twist in ways you wished it wouldn’t.
“I’m on time,” you corrected, crossing your arms.
“Early, on time—same thing,” he said, coming to a stop in front of you. His eyes scanned you briefly, and for a second, you thought you saw something softer in his expression. “You look good.”
Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately regretted your decision to wear something classy. “Don’t start,” you muttered, brushing past him toward the door.
He laughed, catching up to you easily. “What? It’s a compliment!”
“Yeah, yeah.” You pushed open the door, grateful for the wave of warmth that greeted you as you stepped inside.
The Three Broomsticks was busy, as it always was on weekends, but Heeseung didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He waved to Madam Rosmerta, who greeted him like they were old friends, and led you to a small table near the window that had somehow been left open.
“See?” he said, pulling out a chair for you. “Perfect spot.”
You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, mumbling a quiet, “Thanks,” as he slid into the seat across from you.
For a few moments, it was quiet—well, as quiet as it could be in the bustling tavern. You busied yourself with looking out the window, watching as students milled about in the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade.
“So,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “What’s your go-to order here?”
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”
“Because,” he said with a grin, leaning forward slightly, “I want to make sure you actually enjoy this date. Remember? You said if you didn’t, I couldn’t ask again.”
“Still sticking to that, by the way,” you reminded him.
“Noted,” he said, looking far too amused for your liking. “But I’m confident you’ll have a good time.”
“Of course you are,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.
You ended up ordering Butterbeer and treacle tart—not because you particularly wanted it, but because he wouldn’t stop raving about it earlier that week.
When the drinks and food arrived, the conversation started off slow, but much to your surprise, it wasn’t awkward. Heeseung had a way of keeping things light and entertaining.
And, annoyingly, he kept making you laugh.
After you finished at the Three Broomsticks, Heeseung didn’t let the day end there. Instead, he insisted on taking you around Hogsmeade, claiming it was his duty to make sure you had the full experience.
“This isn’t my first time here, you know,” you said as he led you down the cobblestone streets, passing shop after shop.
“Yeah, but it’s your first time here with me,” he countered, flashing you that same cocky grin that had you rolling your eyes for the tenth time that day.
Still, you didn’t protest when he pulled you into Honeydukes, pointing out his favorite candies and piling a small bag with sweets you hadn’t even asked for. “It’s on me,” he said when you tried to argue, waving you off like it was nothing.
Next, he dragged you to Zonko’s, where he spent far too much time marveling over the prank items and showing you his favorites with the enthusiasm of a first-year discovering the place for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile as he rattled off stories of the chaos he’d caused with them in the Slytherin common room.
And then, just as you were debating whether or not to call it a day, it started snowing.
Soft, delicate flakes drifted down from the sky, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a thin layer of white. The air grew quieter, the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade fading into the background as people paused to take in the sight.
You stopped walking, tilting your head back slightly to watch the snow fall. For a moment, you forgot about Heeseung entirely, your mind quieting as you focused on the tiny snowflakes melting against your skin.
When you finally looked back at him, he was staring at you.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He didn’t answer right away, his eyes soft as they searched your face. Finally, he said, “You.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What about me?”
“You’re just…” He trailed off, taking a step closer. His voice was quieter now, more serious. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could even think of how to respond, he closed the space between you, his hand gently reaching for your scarf.
You stood frozen as he adjusted it carefully, his fingers brushing against your neck as he tightened it slightly to block out the cold. His touch was warm, his movements unhurried, and when he was finished, his hands lingered for just a second longer than necessary.
“There,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours again. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
You felt your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn’t from the weather. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.
“And yet, you’re still here with me,” he teased, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You didn’t respond, turning your gaze back to the falling snow. But as Heeseung slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, you didn’t pull away, cause you didn’t feel the need to fight him.
The rest of the walk through Hogsmeade passed in a comfortable silence, your hands still entwined as the snow continued to fall around you. You didn’t know how Heeseung managed to make it feel so… easy. Like holding hands with him was something you’d been doing for years. Like the tension that had built between you over the past weeks had melted away as quickly as the snowflakes on his coat.
He led you to the outskirts of the village, where the streets grew quieter, and the noise of other students faded into the background. The path was lined with trees dusted in white, their bare branches glistening under the faint light of the afternoon sun.
“It’s nice out here,” you murmured, your breath visible in the crisp air.
“Yeah,” Heeseung said, but when you glanced at him, you realized he wasn’t looking at the trees or the snow-covered landscape. He was looking at you again.
“What?” you asked, your voice softer now, a little less defensive.
He shrugged, his lips curling into that small, genuine smile you were starting to recognize—the one he didn’t use often, the one that wasn’t for show. “Nothing. Just… you seem different today.”
“Different?”
“Yeah,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand. “Less scary.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “I’m not scary.”
“Tell that to everyone else who’s too afraid to talk to you.”
“Maybe I just don’t like wasting my time,” you said, smirking up at him.
“Well, lucky me, then,” he replied, his tone teasing. “You must think I’m worth it.”
Before you could say anything, though, he stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His free hand reached up to brush a stray snowflake from your hair, and you froze at the tenderness of the gesture.
“You’re really something, you know that?” he said, his voice low, his gaze steady on yours.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “You keep saying things like that,” you mumbled, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.
“Because I mean it,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
And then, before you could overthink it, he leaned in—not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to give you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t.
The kiss was soft, warm, and fleeting, like a snowflake landing on your lips and melting before you could fully feel it. When he pulled back, his face was close enough that you could still feel his breath against your skin.
“I’ll take that as a yes to a second date,” he murmured, his tone teasing but his eyes holding that same sincerity that had caught you off guard from the start.
You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just rolled your eyes and tugged him along, back toward the village.
But the small smile on your face told him everything he needed to know.
As you and Heeseung continued down the snowy path, oblivious to everything else around you, neither of you noticed the three figures hidden just out of sight, watching your every move. They stood together, concealed by the shadow of the trees, their eyes trained on the way you and Heeseung interacted, the way your hands fit together so naturally.
It didn’t take long for the bitterness to fester. One of them, a girl with dark brown hair and a scowl that could cut glass, clenched her fists at her sides, watching the way Heeseung smiled at you, how easily he made you laugh.
"Of course she’s with him," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with venom. "She always has to go after what’s not hers."
Beside her, another figure—taller, with blonde hair—narrowed her eyes at the scene. "We’ve all been trying for years. Why her? What makes her so special?" Her voice was low, barely controlled, and her gaze burned with resentment.
The third figure, a quieter one, with sharp eyes and a calculating expression, stood back, observing the situation silently. She was still for a moment before she spoke, her voice calm but filled with hidden malice. "Maybe it's time we remind him who belongs by his side."
The girl with the dark hair stepped forward, fists still clenched, the fire in her eyes growing. "Let’s see if we can’t change his mind."
They lingered in the shadows, watching as Heeseung pulled you closer, speaking in soft tones that made your smile widen. The sight of the two of you together twisted in their hearts, their jealousy and rage bubbling over. They knew that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
None of you could have predicted what would happen next.
--
The next few days were a blur of contentment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this happy, or this at ease. Heeseung had truly surpassed every expectation you’d set for him. He was everything you didn’t know you needed in a boyfriend—gentle when you were stressed, confident when you were unsure, and always there to make you smile, even on your worst days.
When you studied together in the library, he’d always find ways to make learning feel less like a chore. Whether it was cracking jokes during boring Potions readings or helping you with Transfiguration, his presence made even the most tedious subjects bearable. And when you were working on homework together in the common room, you’d catch him looking over at you, that amused glint in his eye as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you.
You’d even gone to his Quidditch match that weekend, which turned into one of the most exciting games you’d ever watched. Heeseung had played brilliantly, his focus unshakable as he zoomed around the pitch, expertly dodging Bludgers and scoring goal after goal.
When the match ended, with Slytherin emerging victorious, Heeseung found you in the stands, grinning widely as he jogged over to you.
“Good game?” you teased, unable to contain the excitement in your voice.
Heeseung shrugged, feigning modesty. "You know, I couldn’t have done it without my good luck charm."
Your heart fluttered as he slipped his Slytherin Quidditch jersey over your head, his hands lingering on your shoulders just a little longer than necessary. "This is for you," he said, his voice low but playful. “You made me win.”
You blinked, looking down at the jersey, which was too big for you but somehow made you feel like you were wearing a piece of him. “I didn’t do anything—”
“Yeah, but you were there," he interrupted, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he grinned. “That’s all I needed.”
But Heeseung had one problem—he never knew when to stop kissing. An innocent kiss shared with you would quickly turn into something far more passionate, the kind of kiss that left you breathless, with your heart racing in your chest. His lips would press against yours, and before you knew it, he’d pull you even closer, deepening the kiss with a soft but urgent intensity.
His hands would find their way to your waist, tugging gently as he pulled you closer, and you couldn’t help but melt into him. His kisses weren’t just kisses—they were all-consuming, leaving you dizzy.
It wasn’t long before his hair would become messy, stray locks falling into his eyes as he kissed you with that playful but determined energy. By the time you pulled apart, your lips would be sore, swollen from his insistence. And your neck? Covered with small, dark marks—hickeys left behind as reminders of every moment he couldn’t quite control himself around you.
But the world wasn’t fair to you.
One day, everything changed. You had walked up to Heeseung, as you did every day, eager to see him after class, to share a laugh, maybe steal a quick kiss. But when you rounded the corner, you froze.
There, in the hallway, Heeseung was kissing a Slytherin girl—her hands tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped around her in a way that was so familiar, so intimate, that it felt like a punch to your chest.
Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place, as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. The warmth of his kisses, the tenderness you thought was reserved for you, was now being given to someone else.
And when Heeseung finally pulled away from her, noticing you standing there, your heart shattered.
He didn’t even look surprised to see you. His eyes met yours, cold and indifferent. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice flat.
You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t breathe. You felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath you, leaving you dangling in the air, completely lost.
Then, the words you never expected to hear came tumbling from his mouth.
“I never had feelings for you,” he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. “I never loved you.”
Your world tilted. The person you had trusted, the one who had made you feel special, had never felt the same. All those moments meant nothing. They were nothing but lies.
The pain surged through you like a tidal wave. You felt your chest constrict, your eyes stinging with the heat of unshed tears. Your voice broke as you screamed at him, “How could you? After everything?!”
But it didn’t matter. He didn’t care.
The girl with him—her smirk stretched wide, malicious and triumphant—stepped closer to Heeseung, hanging off his arm like she had every right to be there. Her eyes flicked to you, cold and triumphant, as if she reveled in your pain.
You didn’t even recognize the version of Heeseung standing before you. The boy you thought you knew—the one who had held you like you were everything to him—was gone. In his place was someone who didn’t care at all.
You turned on your heel, running away before the tears could spill. Your heart was breaking with every step, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, at them. You didn’t want to see the cruel smirk on her face, or the emptiness in his eyes.
You were heartbroken, yes, but beneath the sorrow was a rising tide of anger—burning, raw, and uncontrollable. How could Heeseung break your heart like that? After everything, after acting like you were the only woman in his life, like you were the one he couldn’t live without?
The memories played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you. The way he would pull you close and whisper that you were perfect for him. The way he’d laugh at your jokes, even the bad ones, and say that you made his days better.
It had all been a lie.
You paced the empty corridor, your thoughts spiraling into a storm of hurt and rage. Your fists clenched at your sides as tears streaked down your face. You wanted to scream, to cry, to find him and demand answers. How could someone who seemed so perfect turn out to be so cruel?
The image of him kissing that girl was seared into your mind, taunting you. The way she had smirked at you, so smug and triumphant, like she’d won some twisted game. The way Heeseung had looked at you—not with the warmth and love you were used to, but with indifference, as if you had been nothing but a fleeting amusement.
The days after that were some of the hardest you’d ever endured. You refused to let Heeseung see how much he had broken you, refused to let him or anyone else know how deeply his betrayal had cut. Instead, you buried your pain beneath a carefully crafted mask. You laughed with your friends, answered questions in class, and even managed to pull off smiles in the Great Hall. To everyone else, it was like nothing had happened.
But when you were alone, the mask slipped, and the weight of it all came crashing down. The nights were the worst, when you lay in bed replaying the moment over and over, like a cruel, inescapable nightmare. The sound of his words—I never loved you—echoed in your mind, shredding your heart all over again.
One afternoon, during Potions class, the pain overwhelmed you. Heeseung had walked in, all casual as if nothing had happened. He didn’t look your way—not even once—but that didn’t stop the memory of his betrayal from stabbing at your chest.
Your hands shook as you measured out ingredients for your potion, your vision blurring as hot tears threatened to spill. You couldn’t take it anymore. Quietly excusing yourself, you fled the classroom, muttering something about needing the restroom before anyone could stop you.
The moment you stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, the tears you’d been holding back came rushing out. You leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as sobs wracked your body.
You didn’t even notice Moaning Myrtle until her soft voice broke through your cries.
“Rough day?”
Startled, you looked up, your tear-streaked face meeting the ghost’s translucent figure. She was floating by one of the sinks, her usual pout replaced with something almost... sympathetic.
You sniffled, quickly wiping your face. “Sorry, Myrtle. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Myrtle shook her head, hovering closer. “You’re not disturbing me,” she said quietly. “I know what it’s like to cry in here. To feel... forgotten.”
Her words hit you harder than you expected. For once, she wasn’t mocking you or complaining about her own misfortunes. She was just... there, watching you with a sadness in her ghostly eyes that mirrored your own pain.
“I just don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “How could someone say they cared and then... and then throw it all away like it meant nothing?”
Myrtle tilted her head, her gaze softening even more. “Boys are awful,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone holding a mix of understanding and bitterness. “They make you feel special, and then they break you."
You let out a shaky laugh, though it was more bitter than anything else. “Yeah, well, he’s the worst of them.”
Myrtle floated closer, hovering just beside you as you leaned over the sink, your tears falling freely now,and she stayed there, silently watching as you poured your heart out in the empty bathroom.
When you finally wiped your face and straightened up, Myrtle gave you a small, sad smile. “He’s not worth it,” she said softly.
You nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and with a final glance at your tear-streaked reflection, you left the bathroom.
--
You kept watching hopelessly as Heeseung changed right before your eyes. Despite being a Slytherin, he’d always been different—sharp, confident, but never cruel. He treated others with respect, even when it wasn’t expected of him, and it was one of the reasons people gravitated toward him so easily.
But now… now he wasn’t the same.
You started noticing it in small things at first. He’d snap at younger students who accidentally got in his way, barking out insults that made their faces crumple in embarrassment. He’d push past others in the corridors with an air of arrogance that felt alien, not sparing them a glance or apology.
Then, it became more deliberate. In Potions, you overheard him taunting a Gryffindor girl for botching her assignment, his words dripping with disdain. During Quidditch practice, he shouted at his teammates with a venom you’d never seen before, his frustration palpable even from the stands.
It didn’t just confuse you—it confused everyone.
Heeseung had always been popular, not just because of his looks or his Quidditch skills, but because he was charismatic. He had a way of making others feel comfortable, seen, and valued, even if they weren’t in his social circle. But now, that warmth was gone.
You overheard students whispering about him. “What’s gotten into Heeseung?” one Ravenclaw asked her friend as they passed you in the hallway. “He’s acting like a total git lately.”
“I know,” her friend agreed. “He’s not like this. It’s so weird.”
And it was weird. Heeseung wasn’t like this. He wasn’t the type to knock books out of a first-year’s hands and keep walking, or to purposely humiliate someone in front of their peers just to get a laugh. But that was exactly what he was doing now, and every time you saw it, you felt that ache in your chest grow deeper.
What had changed?
You wanted to convince yourself it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t your problem. He had made that clear when he kissed someone else and shattered your heart in the process. But as much as you tried to turn a blind eye, you couldn’t.
This wasn’t just about you anymore.
Heeseung’s behavior was affecting everyone, and the boy who had once made you laugh until your sides hurt was now someone you barely recognized. Watching him spiral like this hurt more than you cared to admit.
But the question remained: why? What had turned him into this unknown version of himself?
The answer to that question was revealed to you one day, completely by accident.
You were on your way to your common room, distracted as you dug through your bag, mentally ticking off the homework you still had to finish. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, not until someone grabbed your arm and yanked you into an empty classroom.
You yelped, stumbling as you turned to face your captor. “What the—”
A Slytherin girl stood before you, her wide eyes darting nervously toward the door, as though she was afraid of being followed or heard. She placed a finger to her lips, hushing you before you could finish your sentence.
“What is your problem?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of her grip.
“Shh!” she insisted, glancing toward the corridor one last time before shutting the door behind her. Her actions were suspicious, like she was about to do something she wasn’t supposed to.
You crossed your arms, glaring at her. “Care to explain why you just dragged me in here?”
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’re Heeseung`s girlfriend.”
The mention of his name immediately sent a pang through your chest, but you held your ground. “Was,” you corrected sharply. “Not anymore.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so just listen. Heeseung’s not himself.”
You frowned, your skepticism evident. “I’m aware of that. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
“No, you don’t get it.” She leaned in, her expression serious. “He’s not himself because he’s under the influence of Amortentia.”
The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. “What?”
She nodded, her voice urgent now. “That girl—Yoonhee—she’s been dosing him with Amortentia for weeks. That’s why he’s been acting so different.”
Your heart raced as you processed her words, disbelief swirling in your mind. “You’re lying,” you said, your voice trembling. “Why would she do that?”
The Slytherin girl let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you think? She wanted him, and she didn’t care how she got him. But it’s not just about making him fall for her. She’s using the potion to influence him, to turn him into someone else. She’s controlling him, and you’ve seen the result.”
Your mind reeled as the pieces began to fall into place. The sudden change in Heeseung’s personality, the cruelty, the way he’d dismissed you so coldly—all of it made a sick kind of sense now.
“She’s dangerous,” the girl continued. “And if someone doesn’t stop her, Heeseung’s going to be completely lost.”
You stared at her, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, confusion, and disbelief. “Why are you telling me this?”
She hesitated, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Because it’s wrong. I thought about staying out of it, but Heeseung doesn’t deserve this. And... neither do you.”
Your fists clenched at your sides as rage surged through you. The betrayal you had felt from Heeseung was now redirected toward Yoonhee, the girl who had manipulated him, stolen his free will, and shattered your heart in the process.
If this was true, then Yoonhee had taken everything from you—and from him.
You took a deep breath, meeting the girl’s gaze. “How do I stop her?”
The Slytherin girl’s lips pressed into a thin line before she said, “I’ll help you, but we have to act fast. The longer she keeps him under her control, the harder it’ll be to break him free.”
You suddenly narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms. “And how do I know I can trust you?”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “Look, I get why you’d be suspicious, but I don’t have anything to gain from this. I’m only telling you because…” She hesitated, looking almost embarrassed before continuing. “Because I’ve seen how Heeseung was with you. And then I’ve seen him with Yoonhee. And it’s not the same.”
Her voice softened as she spoke, her gaze meeting yours. “What you and Heeseung had—it was real. It was... cute, even. He was different when he was with you. Like he couldn’t stop looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. I swear, he practically had hearts in his eyes whenever you were around.”
Your heart clenched at her words, the image of Heeseung’s affectionate smile flashing in your mind.
“But with Yoonhee?” she continued, her tone sharp. “It’s fake. Everything about it feels wrong. He doesn’t look at her the way he looked at you. There’s no warmth, no care. It’s like... like he’s just going through the motions, like a puppet on strings. And the way she parades him around, acting like she owns him—it’s sick.”
Her voice grew quieter, tinged with guilt. “I should have said something sooner. I should’ve stopped it when I first realized what she was doing. But I didn’t, and now things have gone too far. I just... I couldn’t keep watching it anymore.”
You studied her face, searching for any sign of deception, but all you saw was genuine regret.
“You really think what we had was real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
She nodded firmly. “I know it was. Anyone with eyes could see it. Heeseung doesn’t look at anyone the way he looked at you. And if you still care about him, even after everything, then you need to help him. Because what Yoonhee’s doing? It’s not love. It’s control. And it’s destroying him.”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll help. But if this turns out to be some kind of trick…”
“It’s not,” she said quickly, her eyes steady and resolute. “I promise.”
“Good,” you said, squaring your shoulders. “Because if she thinks she can get away with this, she’s dead wrong.”
After speaking with Hyejin who had revealed everything—you went straight to the library, your mind set on one thing: finding an antidote to Amortentia.
You scoured the shelves, your fingers brushing over the spines of dusty Potions books, each title longer and more complicated than the last. "Advanced Alchemical Properties of Magical Infusions," "The Elusive Art of Potionmaking," "Rare Remedies and Their Applications"—none of them seemed to promise the straightforward answers you were hoping for.
Potions had never been your strong suit, and as you flipped through yet another heavy tome filled with convoluted instructions and obscure ingredients, you groaned in frustration.
Why did Potions have to be so complicated? Couldn’t it be more like Herbology—straightforward, clear, and easy to follow? You were confident you could have whipped up a solution in no time if that were the case. But instead, you were drowning in endless jargon about precise stirring techniques, moon phase timings, and ingredient substitutions.
And the worst part? Heeseung had always been the one to help you when Potions overwhelmed you. His natural skill in the subject had been your saving grace more times than you could count, and the irony wasn’t lost on you that now, when you needed help the most, he was the one you were trying to save.
After what felt like hours of fruitless searching, you let out another groan, slamming the book in front of you shut. “Why are there so many books on Potions?” you muttered under your breath. “Why can’t this be simple? Just a page with ‘Amortentia antidote’ in big bold letters—how hard would that be?”
You stared at the pile of books in front of you, exhaustion creeping in as you realized just how out of your depth you were. You needed help, and you needed it fast. But who could you turn to? Heeseung was out of the question, and you didn’t trust Hyejin enough to rely on her completely.
You racked your brain, thinking of anyone who might have the skill and knowledge to guide you. Your mind flashed to someone unexpected—someone you hadn’t considered at first but who might be your best shot.
Professor Slughorn.
He wasn’t exactly your favorite teacher, but he was an expert in Potions, and if anyone could point you in the right direction, it was him. The problem was convincing him to help without spilling the entire truth. After all, you couldn’t exactly admit that a student was brewing and using Amortentia without risking expulsion for everyone involved.
Still, you didn’t have many options. If you couldn’t find the answer here, then you’d have to take the risk and ask for guidance.
You were just about to leave the library, your mind still swirling with frustration, when you collided with someone. The impact sent you stumbling back a step, your bag nearly slipping from your shoulder.
“Oh! Sorry about that!” you said quickly, steadying yourself.
“No, no, it’s my fault,” the other person replied, their voice warm and apologetic.
When you looked up, you were surprised to find yourself face-to-face with Myung Jaehyun, a Gryffindor student. You didn’t know him particularly well, but you knew of him—he had a reputation for excelling in Potions, often earning praise from Professor Slughorn.
The proverbial light bulb practically lit up over your head as an idea struck you. Jaehyun could help.
You smiled, stepping closer to him, which made Jaehyun’s cheeks flush slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Um... something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” you said, your tone light and friendly. “Actually, I was just thinking... you’re good at Potions, right?”
He nodded. “I guess? I mean, yeah, I’ve always done well in class. Why?”
“Well,” you said slowly, leaning in slightly, “I was wondering if you could help me with something. It’s just a tiny matter, really.”
Jaehyun blinked, clearly intrigued. “Uh, sure. What do you need?”
“I’m looking for a book,” you explained. “One that has information about antidotes for Amortentia.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Amortentia?”
You nodded, trying to keep your expression casual. “Yeah. I, uh... just need to look up something for a project.”
Jaehyun seemed to consider this for a moment before his face lit up. “Oh! I know exactly what you need.” He walked over to a nearby shelf, scanning the rows of books with practiced ease before pulling one out. He handed it to you, flipping it open to the right chapter. “Here. Chapter 14, page 237. It has a detailed section on love potions.”
You took the book from him, relief flooding through you. “Thank you so much, Jaehyun. This is exactly what I needed.”
Jaehyun hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat. “If you want... I could help you with the brewing process. It’s tricky, and, well, I’ve done similar antidotes before.”
You practically jumped at the offer, your enthusiasm catching him off guard. “Really? You’d help me?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling shyly. “When do you want to start?”
“As soon as possible,” you said quickly. “This is kind of... urgent.”
“Alright,” Jaehyun agreed, his smile growing more confident. “Let’s meet in the Potions classroom after dinner. I’ll bring the ingredients we’ll need.”
You nodded, clutching the book tightly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. Really. You’re a lifesaver.”
He rubbed the back of his neck again, his blush returning. “It’s no problem. I’m happy to help.”
With a grateful smile, you hurried out of the library. You finally had a plan—and someone to help you execute it.
After dinner, you made your way to the Potions classroom, your nerves buzzing. As you stepped inside, you saw Jaehyun already at one of the workbenches, his sleeves rolled up and his hands deftly working.
When he noticed you, he offered a small smile and gestured for you to sit next to him.
“You’re early,” you said, setting your bag down on the bench.
“Wanted to get a head start,” Jaehyun replied, his voice warm. “I figured the quicker we get this done, the better.”
You nodded, settling into the chair beside him. As you looked around the dimly lit classroom, a thought occurred to you. “Is it even okay for us to be here after class hours?”
Jaehyun chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. Professor Slughorn lets me stay after hours pretty often. He says it’s good-spirited of me to practice brewing and experiment.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Good-spirited, huh? That’s... surprisingly nice of him.”
Jaehyun shrugged, still focused on grinding the ingredients in front of him. “He’s not so bad. As long as you don’t blow up the classroom, he’s pretty lenient.”
You laughed lightly at that, feeling a bit of the tension in your chest ease. As Jaehyun began measuring out a vial of liquid and carefully adding it to the cauldron, you watched him work.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked, not wanting to just sit idly.
He glanced at you, his eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. “Sure. Can you chop those gurdyroots? They need to be sliced thinly—about this size.” He held up a perfectly cut piece as an example.
“Got it,” you said, grabbing a knife and the roots. You carefully started cutting, doing your best to match the size Jaehyun had shown you.
Occasionally, Jaehyun would give you instructions or correct something you were doing, his tone always patient and encouraging.
“You’re doing great,” he said at one point, glancing over at your neatly sliced gurdyroots. “I might have to recruit you as my brewing partner from now on.”
You snorted. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. Potions and I have a... complicated relationship.”
Jaehyun laughed, his warm, boyish chuckle filling the room. “Well, you’re doing fine tonight. Just keep that up.”
The antidote was slowly coming together, the cauldron emitting a faint shimmer as the ingredients combined.
“Do you think this will work?” you asked softly after a while, watching the potion swirl in the cauldron.
Jaehyun looked at you, his expression serious yet kind. “If we follow the instructions exactly, it should. Potions like this are tricky, but I’m confident we can pull it off. And if something goes wrong, we’ll try again.”
His reassurance eased some of your worry, and you nodded. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I mean it. You didn’t have to help me, but you are.”
He shrugged modestly, his cheeks tinged pink. “It’s nothing. Besides, it’s kind of nice working on something like this with someone else for a change.”
You smiled at that, feeling a bit lighter for the first time in days.
After some time the potion was finally done. The cauldron shimmered with a silvery glow, and Jaehyun carefully ladled some of the antidote into a small flask. He corked it tightly and handed it to you, his smile warm but cautious.
“Here,” he said, placing it gently in your hands.
You stared at the flask, relief flooding through you. “Thank you, Jaehyun,” you said, looking up at him with a grateful smile. Without thinking, you leaned in and hugged him tightly.
Jaehyun stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but quickly relaxed and awkwardly patted your back. “You don’t have to thank me. Really.”
“I do,” you said, pulling back and clutching the flask to your chest. “I owe you one. Big time.”
Before he could respond, you turned and hurried out of the classroom, determination burning in your chest.
The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual hum of students talking and studying. You scanned the room until your eyes landed on Hyejin, sitting at a corner table with books and parchment spread out in front of her. She looked like she was drowning in notes, a quill tucked behind her ear as she scribbled furiously.
You approached her, sliding into the seat across from her. She glanced up, her brow furrowed in confusion until she saw the flask in your hand.
“You’ve got it?” she asked, her eyes widening slightly.
You nodded, setting the flask on the table between you. “I’ve got the solution. Literally.”
Hyejin’s tense expression softened, and she let out a small sigh of relief. “That’s good. Really good.”
You noticed her Herbology textbook then, along with her chaotic notes. The scribbled diagrams of plants and ingredients were barely legible, and she had several crossed-out answers on her parchment. She caught you looking and groaned, slumping back in her chair.
“Don’t judge me. Herbology is not my strong suit,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.
“Do you need help?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hyejin gave a humorless laugh. “Desperately. Professor Sprout’s quizzes are impossible, and if I don’t pass the next one, I’m doomed.”
Smiling, you reached into your bag and pulled out your own Herbology notes. “Here. These might help.”
Her eyes widened as she saw the neat, color-coded pages you laid in front of her. “Oh my God, you’re an angel,” she said dramatically, grabbing them like they were a lifeline.
You laughed, leaning over to point out some of the key points. “Okay, this section on Venomous Tentacula—just remember that its sap is only dangerous when exposed to direct sunlight. Write that down.”
“Thank you,” Hyejin said softly after a while, looking up from her notes. “For this. And... for everything else.”
“You’ve already done plenty to help me,” you replied with a small smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
--
The next day, you sat on your bed, nervously fiddling with the hem of your robes. The weight of what was about to happen pressed heavily on your chest. You had given the antidote to Hyejin that morning, entrusting her with the task of breaking the spell that had bound Heeseung to Yoonhee. She’d reassured you with a confident smile that she could slip the potion into his drink during lunch, all without raising suspicion.
You could have been there yourself to witness it. You could have stood nearby, watching from the shadows to make sure everything went as planned. But the truth was, you were scared—terrified, even.
You couldn’t face Heeseung. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. What if the antidote didn’t work? What if he still didn’t feel anything for you, even after the spell was broken? What if... what if he hated you?
The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sat there, staring at the wall of your dormitory. You felt ridiculous for being so anxious, but the idea of seeing him again, of looking into his eyes and not knowing what you’d find there, was almost too much to bear.
So you’d chosen to wait. To stay here, in the safety of your room, and let Hyejin handle it. She’d promised to relay everything to you afterward, and you trusted her.
A soft knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts.
“It’s just me,” your roommate said, poking her head inside. “You okay? You’ve been in here all morning.”
You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just... not feeling great today. I think I’ll skip lunch.”
She gave you a sympathetic look before leaving, and you sighed in relief once the door closed again.
The waiting was unbearable. Minutes felt like hours as you sat there, your mind playing out every possible scenario. You tried to distract yourself by flipping through a book, but the words blurred together on the page.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a knock at the door again—this time more urgent.
You jumped up, your heart racing as you opened it to find Hyejin standing there, slightly out of breath.
“It’s done,” she said simply, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
You stared at her, your throat suddenly dry. “And? Did it work?”
Hyejin nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It worked. I saw it in his eyes the moment the potion broke. Heeseung... he looked so confused at first, like he didn’t know where he was or what was happening. But then Yoonhee tried to cling to him, and he pushed her away.”
Your breath hitched. “He did?”
“Yeah. And he asked her what she’d done to him. She tried to play innocent, but you could tell she was panicking. I don’t think anyone else noticed—it wasn’t exactly a scene—but Heeseung wasn’t buying her act. He left pretty quickly after that, though. I think he needed time to process everything.”
You sank back onto your bed, your mind reeling. Relief, hope, and dread all swirled together in your chest. Heeseung was free. He was finally free.
But now what?
Hyejin sat beside you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Give him some time,” she said softly, as if reading your thoughts. “He’s going to come looking for you. I’m sure of it.”
You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you gripped the edge of your bed. All you could do now was wait—and hope that when Heeseung finally found you, the boy you’d fallen for was still there, waiting for you too.
You didn’t leave your room for days. The sick, uncomfortable feeling in your body refused to go away. It was as if the weight of everything—your heartbreak, the fear—had finally caught up to you, pinning you to your bed and draining you of energy.
Your housemates noticed. They brought you food, their class notes, and even small trinkets to cheer you up, but nothing seemed to work. You mumbled thanks to them, forced weak smiles when they tried to joke, but the truth was, you felt numb.
Hyejin came by often, sitting on the edge of your bed and filling you in on everything happening outside the confines of your room.
“Yoonhee got caught,” she said one afternoon, her tone tinged with satisfaction. “Slughorn found out she’d been brewing Amortentia, and she’s been given detention for weeks. There’s even talk about revoking her Hogsmeade privileges for the rest of the year.”
You managed a faint smile at that. “Good. She deserves it.”
Hyejin nodded firmly. “She does. And honestly, people are starting to avoid her now. Her little group of friends isn’t as tight as it used to be. Guess that’s what happens when everyone finds out you’ve been manipulating someone with a love potion.”
Your smile faded as the conversation shifted to Heeseung.
“And... Heeseung,” Hyejin started carefully, watching your reaction. “He’s been... different.”
You stiffened slightly but said nothing, letting her continue.
“He’s been asking about you. Like, constantly. He’s desperate to find you. I think he’s even checked the library three times in one day,” she said with a small laugh, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s back to being... well, himself. But he looks miserable, and honestly, he’s really worried about you.”
Your chest tightened. You wanted to feel relieved, but instead, the sick feeling only deepened. You hated how much you still cared, how even hearing about Heeseung made your heart twist painfully.
“I don’t know, Hyejin,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I just… I can’t see him right now.”
Hyejin sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “I get it. I do. Take all the time you need. Just... don’t shut yourself out completely, okay?”
You didn’t respond, simply looking down at your blanket as Hyejin stayed with you a little longer.
It wasn’t until one evening, when the common room was quiet and your dorm was empty, that you finally let yourself cry. The frustration, the sadness, the guilt—it all poured out of you in heavy, silent sobs as you clutched your pillow.
You were happy Yoonhee had faced punishment. You were relieved that Heeseung was free from her influence. But you were also scared—scared of facing him, scared of what he would say, and scared of how much you still loved him, even after everything.
Before you knew it, the day of the annual Christmas Ball at Hogwarts had arrived. Normally, you would’ve been excited. Your mother had even sent you a beautiful golden gown, one that shimmered like sunlight when you first pulled it out of the box. You’d twirled in front of the mirror, imagining how the soft fabric would float around you as you danced.
But now? Now you had lost all reason to go.
The thought of attending made your stomach churn. The idea of walking into that grand hall, of possibly running into him—it was too much.
Unfortunately, your housemates had other plans. They weren’t about to let you stay locked up in your dorm forever, wallowing in shame and fear. After days of patient encouragement, they finally pulled you out of bed, insisting you at least attend a few classes. Begrudgingly, you relented, figuring it would stop their nagging if nothing else.
The morning started off easy enough. You didn’t have any classes with Heeseung today, which gave you some peace of mind. Still, you couldn’t shake the paranoia that he might show up out of nowhere.
And, honestly, that paranoia wasn’t entirely unfounded.
It was as if Heeseung had a built-in radar for you. More than once, you caught a glimpse of his dark hair in the corridors, his eyes scanning the crowds as if he were searching for someone. For you.
Every time, you ducked behind corners or slipped into empty classrooms to avoid him. It was harder than you expected, given his persistence. You had to wonder if he’d memorized your schedule or something.
By the time your last class ended, you were exhausted—not from the lessons, but from all the hiding and running. You slumped into your seat at dinner, barely touching your food as your housemates chattered excitedly about the ball.
“You’re still coming tonight, right?” one of them asked, nudging your shoulder.
You hesitated. “I don’t know...”
“Oh, come on,” another chimed in. “Your mom sent you that gorgeous dress! You have to go.”
You sighed, poking at the mashed potatoes on your plate. “I’ll think about it.”
But even as you said it, you doubted you’d actually go.
As the evening drew closer, you found yourself back in your dorm, staring at the golden gown hanging from your wardrobe. It truly was stunning, the kind of dress you’d dreamed of wearing to an event like this.
For a moment, you almost let yourself imagine it—dancing under the enchanted ceiling, laughter and music filling the air.
You shook your head, turning away from the dress. You weren’t ready for that.
Just as you were about to crawl back into bed, however, your dormitory door burst open, and your housemates barged in with determined looks.
“Nope, we’re not letting you sit this one out,” one of them declared, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet.
“What are you—”
“Listen,” another interrupted, “you don’t have to stay the whole night. Just come for a little bit. Wear the dress, take a few pictures, and if you’re really miserable, you can leave. Deal?”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the hopeful, pleading looks on their faces stopped you. They just wanted you to have fun, to feel normal again, even if only for a little while.
“...Fine,” you muttered, earning cheers from the group.
Before you knew it, they were helping you into the golden gown, fixing your hair and makeup, and hyping you up like you were royalty.
“You look amazing,” one of them said, beaming as they adjusted the final curl in your hair.
You didn’t feel amazing, but you forced a small smile.
Your housemates dragged you down the corridors toward the grand hall, their excitement became contagious. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself starting to feel... a little excited, too.
When you finally stepped into the grand hall, your breath hitched. The space was utterly transformed, shimmering with holiday magic. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the enchanted ceiling, disappearing just before they touched the ground. The chandeliers sparkled like stars, and the tables were adorned with golden centerpieces. Everything looked like it had been plucked from a dream.
But then you saw him.
Heeseung.
He was standing near one of the refreshment tables, laughing softly at something a fellow Slytherin said. Emerald green suit, tailored to perfection. His hair, slicked back, revealed his sharp jawline and those intense eyes. But as your gaze lingered on him, you noticed something else—he looked tired.
It wasn’t until he glanced your way and his eyes locked onto yours that you realized you’d been staring.
Your heart jumped in your chest, and before you could even think about turning away, he was moving. Heeseung’s long strides cut through the crowd like a magnet pulled him toward you.
“Oh no,” you squeaked, panic bubbling in your chest.
You instinctively turned to your friends for help, but all you saw were their grinning faces and two very obvious thumbs up.
Ah, so they planned this.
You shot them a silent glare, but before you could even consider fleeing, a firm hand grabbed yours. Heeseung’s grip was gentle but insistent as he pulled you away.
“H-Heeseung—!” you started, but he wasn’t listening.
He didn’t stop until he’d guided you to a quiet corner of the hall, away from the prying eyes of your fellow students. The noise of the ball faded into the background as he turned to face you, his hands still holding yours.
Your breath caught.
Up close, he looked even more handsome, but those tired eyes, paired with the slight downturn of his lips, made your chest ache. He looked... vulnerable.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. He just stared at you, taking in every detail—the golden gown that hugged your figure, the way your hair framed your face, the faint shimmer of your lips.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his voice hoarse, almost as if he hadn’t used it in days.
You blinked, momentarily stunned. You weren’t sure how to respond, your thoughts still scrambling to catch up with the fact that he was here, holding your hands, looking at you like that.
Finally, you managed to mumble, “You look... good too.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up into a small, tired smile. “Thanks,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.
Heeseung’s gaze softened as he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. For—”
You cut him off, shaking your head. “No, Heeseung. Stop. It wasn’t your fault. It was Yoonhee’s. You didn’t ask for any of this.”
He blinked, stunned by your words, but his expression quickly shifted to one of concern. “Then... why?” he asked softly, his voice trembling. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
You looked down, biting your lip, unable to meet his gaze. But he wasn’t having it.
Gently, he tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing your eyes to lock with his. His touch was soft but firm, his eyes desperate. “Please,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading. “Please look at me, Y/N. I need to see you. All of you. I need to understand.”
You swallowed hard, his intensity making it difficult to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched for the right words.
“I...” You hesitated, but his unwavering gaze gave you the courage to continue. “I was scared, Heeseung. Scared that... you wouldn’t like me anymore. That whatever we had before was gone. And it hurt. It hurt so much that I didn’t know how to face you. I felt so... drained. So tired. I had no energy for anything. It was like everything good was just gone.”
He listened intently, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as tears spilled from your eyes. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to justify anything. He just... listened. Like he always did.
When you finally finished, a silence hung between you, heavy.
And then, without warning, Heeseung wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest.
You froze for a moment, startled, before slowly relaxing into his embrace. His scent—familiar and comforting—washed over you, and you felt like you could breathe again.
“Baby...” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I would have waited forever for you to feel okay again. Because you’re the only woman I love in this world. The only one I’ve ever loved. And nothing—nothing—is ever going to change that.”
Your breath hitched as his words sank in, the sincerity in his tone breaking down the walls you’d built around your heart.
“I want a future with you,” he continued, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His hands framed your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had fallen. “I don’t care about anyone else. I never did. It’s always been you. Always.”
His words left you speechless, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
“I love you,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, a shaky smile breaking through. “I love you too, Heeseung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Heeseung’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes glistening with relief and adoration. Without another word, he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the gap between you, meeting him halfway as his lips pressed against yours in a kiss.
Your heart raced as your hands instinctively reaching up to grip the front of his emerald green suit. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer, like he was afraid to let you go. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was reassuring you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, his forehead rested against yours. Heeseung’s smile widened, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against your sides.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. “And I’ll never stop, as long as you let me.”
You laughed softly, your cheeks warming as you looked up at him. “You’re so dramatic,” you teased, though your tone held no malice.
“Maybe,” he admitted with a playful smirk, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.
But before either of you could say anything more, a loud burst of laughter echoed from the main hall, reminding you both that you weren’t exactly in a private setting.
Heeseung chuckled, glancing over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I’m not done with you yet.”
You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up. “Oh? And where exactly are we going?”
He grinned mischievously, tugging you gently along. “You’ll see,” he said, his tone light and teasing.
Heeseung led you through the dimly lit corridors, weaving between tapestries and statues until you reached a secluded alcove. It was quiet, away from the bustling energy of the Great Hall, and the faint sound of music and laughter felt like it was miles away.
Leaning casually against the stone wall, Heeseung tugged you closer by your hand, his other arm snaking around your waist as he grinned down at you. “Now this,” he murmured, “is more like it.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a bit giddy as he twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person who mattered, sent your heart racing.
Before you could respond, you found yourself leaning up, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened. His hand tightened on your hip as he pulled you flush against him, and you reached up, tangling your fingers into his perfectly styled hair, making it deliciously messy.
Heeseung groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you as his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you steady. The kiss was everything—intense, like he was making up for all the lost time, for all the days you’d been apart.
When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless and slightly disheveled, he let out a low chuckle. “There goes my hair,” he teased, his voice husky as he glanced at you, his lips still red from your kiss.
You smirked, smoothing down the strands you’d mussed up. “I think it looks better this way,” you quipped, earning a playful roll of his eyes.
“Yeah?” he said, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Well, if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll allow it.”
Heeseung's playful nature shone through as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I could get used to this," he whispered, his breath warm and tickling against your skin. "You looking all beautiful and mussed up."
You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. "Well, if you like it, I might just keep it this way," you replied, a hint of challenge in your voice. "Although, I think I might enjoy seeing the look on your face if I went back to being perfectly put together."
With a playful roll of his eyes, Heeseung leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. But this time, his hands went to your dress, his fingers trailing along the neckline, subtly revealing more of your skin.
You giggled into the kiss, a sound of both pleasure and surprise. "Naughty boy," you teased, trying to hit his hand away, but Heeseung was unmoved, his focus solely on you and the kiss.
His hands continued to tease, gently tugging at the fabric of your dress, revealing more of your shoulders and collarbone.
"You know I can't resist you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and seductive. "Especially when you look like this."
"I know you can't," you replied, your voice soft and filled with affection. "And I'm glad I have this effect on you." You could feel his fingers trace the curve of your waist.
Heeseung's eyes lit up as he saw the skin that had been revealed. With a smile that held both mischief and anticipation, he leaned in, his lips grazing the newly exposed skin.
He started with soft kisses, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath warm and enticing, a gentle tease, tracing the curve of your collarbone.
"You smell so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Like honey and spice."
His hands rested gently on your waist, his touch firm, as if you were something delicate he couldn’t risk breaking.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as his lips pressed a lingering kiss to the base of your neck. “Do you know that?”
His words made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head slightly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “I’m not—”
“You are,” he interrupted, his tone so sure that it silenced any protest you could muster. His lips returned to your skin, brushing over your shoulder where the fabric of your gown had slipped just slightly.
“I could do this forever,” he whispered against your skin, his voice carrying a hint of a smile. “Just... adore you.”
You shivered at his words, warmth pooling in your chest as you gazed at him. There was nothing rushed or impatient about him—just pure affection, as though he was savoring every moment with you.
“You’re impossible,” you mumbled, but the smile on your face betrayed the teasing edge in your voice.
Heeseung looked at you then, his dark eyes filled with so much love it made your breath catch. “And yet, here I am, completely yours,” he said with a boyish grin, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you laugh softly.
A sudden scream sliced through the moment, making you both freeze. You turned to find Yoonhee standing in the hallway, her eyes blazing with rage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, hatred radiating from every inch of her.
You quickly adjusted the straps of your dress, feeling a flush of embarrassment but finding comfort in the way Heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.
"Yoonhee," Heeseung said, his voice calm but firm, his body still shielding you. "What are you doing here?"
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor as she walked toward you. "You," she spat, her voice seething with venom. "You ruined everything. You always ruin everything."
The words stung more than you expected, and you felt yourself shrinking back, but Heeseung’s grip tightened around you, giving you strength.
"If you didn`t exist," she continued, her voice rising. "Everything would have been perfect. Heeseung would have been mine. I would have had everything I wanted."
You shook your head, unable to comprehend the depth of her bitterness. "Yoonhee, What are—"
But she wasn’t listening. Her gaze never left you, her eyes full of hatred as she took another step toward you. "You don't deserve him. You’re not good enough. You’re nothing compared to me."
Heeseung, his expression hardening, finally stepped in to talk. "Enough, Yoonhee."
Her glare shifted to him, but there was no remorse in her eyes. Instead, she let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, really? You think you can just shut me up?" She turned back to you, her face twisted with anger. "You think you can steal him from me and everything will be fine? You don’t know him like I do."
You swallowed, your throat tightening at her words, but Heeseung’s presence kept you steady. His voice, low and firm, cut through her words. "You’re wrong, Yoonhee. You’ve always been wrong. This isn’t about you, and it never was. I’m with her because I want to be. You’re the one who needs to let go."
For a moment, there was silence, the tension thick between the three of you. Yoonhee stood there, fuming, but Heeseung didn’t flinch.
"You can’t do this, Heeseung," she hissed, her voice full of desperation now. "You don’t even know what you’re giving up. You think she cares about you? She’s just playing you like everyone else. She’s not even worthy of you."
Heeseung’s expression softened, but there was no uncertainty in his eyes. "You’re wrong, Yoonhee. She’s everything to me, and I’m not walking away from her."
Yoonhee’s shrill scream filled the room, and before anyone could react, she lunged at you. Her hands shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from Heeseung with surprising strength. You stumbled back, her nails digging into your skin as she tried to shove you down. Her eyes were wild with fury, and for a moment, you froze, too stunned by the violence of her attack to respond.
But then, something inside you snapped. All the weeks of anger, hurt, and confusion flooded back. The betrayal, the humiliation, the endless nights of crying and wondering what went wrong—it all surged up at once. This was the girl who had stolen Heeseung right out of your life. The one who had used Amortentia to control him, to warp his feelings, to hurt you. The one who had made you feel small and insignificant.
No, you wouldn’t let her do this anymore.
With a fierce yell, you shoved her off, your fist flying instinctively. The punch connected with her cheek with a satisfying thud, the force sending her staggering backward. Her eyes widened in shock, hand flying to her face as she stumbled and almost fell to the ground.
Yoonhee gaped at you, her breath coming in short, furious gasps. "You... You bitch!" she snarled, voice shaking with rage.
But you stood your ground, heart racing, every ounce of your being wanting to scream and lash out. You felt the heat of your own anger, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You weren’t backing down anymore. "No," you said, your voice trembling but fierce, "you don't get to do this. You don't get to ruin everything for me and Heeseung. You don’t get to play with people’s feelings."
Yoonhee glared at you, hands trembling with fury. "You think you’ve won, don’t you?" Her voice was a low hiss. "You really think he’s yours? He’s not. He’ll always come back to me."
Heeseung stepped forward, voice cutting through the tension. "You’re done. I’ve told you before. I’m with her, not you."
Yoonhee looked between the two of you, her face flushing red with humiliation. The silence that followed was deafening. She was seething, but there was no more fight left in her. She stood there for a moment, glaring at you, and then, with a final look of disdain, she turned on her heel and stormed away.
You let out a breath, feeling your body go limp, the tension draining from your limbs. Heeseung moved towards you immediately, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close.
"Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice soft and concerned.
You nodded slowly, though your heart was still racing from the confrontation. "I’m okay," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don’t know what came over me."
Heeseung pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and looking into your eyes. "You did what you had to do," he said gently. "You’ve been through so much because of her."
"And besides I like seeing that side of you," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "The way you stood up for yourself."
You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth fill your chest at his words.
"I’m proud of you," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.
You held him tighter, feeling grateful for everything that had brought you to this point. "I love you," you whispered.
"I love you too," he replied.
a/n: i feel emotional now
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ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ-ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ
ghost gives you a good throat-fucking.
pet names and ghost swearing a lot.
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You gagged, hands against the inner of his thighs as he continued to use your mouth, one hand had been entangled through the locks of your hair, your throat gently expanding every time he shoved his cock further down your throat.
Your eyes were wet, with tears due to how deep he went, how deep he wanted your spit to coat his width, Ghost’s tip stroking the back of your throat as he calmed you with warm words. “That’s it baby,” he said while rotating his hips, he grunted, the skin of his sac pressed against your lips.
You drooled, desperately sucking it back up, eager to please him. You felt the wetness between your legs become stickier, connecting the inner corner of your thighs against each other. You stretched your tongue, Ghost’s length rubbing against the texture of it, you looked at him, had saw how his face had been twisted, furrowed, so concentrated for his high.
“That it---oh fuc---that---” he stuttered, his chest heavy, each time it arose it came down deeper than the last, whenever he did that, that’s when you knew he was near, when his movements became less smooth, more rigid, stiff, and sharp.
You moaned. You forced your mouth to move to the top of it, to suck on it, eyes trained on him, teasing him to see how his face would twist more, thus his groans echoed louder, like bass through glass, now he had both hands against your head, curved at the back of it.
“Princess----oh---shit!” He cried out, burying his length inside of you again, the slickness of your mouth making it easier for him, loads of his cum trickling and glazing the width of your throat.
Shakily, he exhaled, pulling his dick out your mouth, watching how his cum and your saliva mixed with each other, a string from your tongue was connected to the base of his cock, the link broken when he shoved it into your mouth again, slowly, but rough, he pulled himself out again and continued the motion. “Good girl,” he praised. “Good fucking girl,” he whispered. “Good girl, swallow it for me.”
You listened, you swallowed his cum so he bent down to you, cupped your chin with two of his fingers before kissing your lips, embracing your mouth, tasting his own self, breathing you in, and once he pulled away, you looked at him with lapin eyes, silently begging him to order you around.
“Now turn around for me,” he said and so you did.
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Saving Grace || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.
Warnings: none!
Word count: 2,051
MASTERLIST
Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.
If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.
But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.
The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.
Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.
“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.
And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.
Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.
~
As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.
You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.
“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.
The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.
“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.
No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.
“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”
His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”
“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.
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I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.
contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words
a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.
ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist
Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.
Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.
“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.
“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.
“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.
“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.
“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.
Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.
“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.
“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.
“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.
You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.
Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.
“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.
“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.
“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”
“Y/n,” you replied.
“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”
“Sure…”
At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.
The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.
In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.
He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.
“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.
“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”
“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.
“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”
Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.
Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.
“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”
“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.
“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.
“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.
“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.
You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.
“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.
“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”
You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.
“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s get you naked.”
#ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk fanfiction#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#ryomen#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna smut#sukuna mafia boss#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#sukuna ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n
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peristalsis - i.
selkie!soap x reader. suicidal ideation. strangers to "lovers." . Running away from life to the Scottish Hebrides, you meet a man who won't leave you alone. . Masterlist. Ao3.
When your mother asks you if you’re planning to kill yourself, you have to lie to her.
To be fair to you, it’s a half-lie. You have no plans. Courage, you find, is as slippery as an eel in gloved palms—you don’t actually think you could do it if you tried. You’re deeply averse to pain of the bloody sort, and doing the deed would take a will and an energy you don’t really have.
But still. You’ve stopped looking both ways when crossing a street. You forget the stove is on, hot oil in the pan popping like the report of a handgun. The sound of shattering glass is the only thing that makes your heart sit calm in your chest, and the only thing that can make you fall asleep anymore is the notion that when you die, the earth will welcome the molecules of your body back into its folds.
So a half-lie is not the truth. You sit in the terminal, the afternoon smell of airport coffee in your nose as you swear to your mother that you’re not looking for a cliff to jump off of, or a convenient wave to pull you under. You’ve always wanted to visit Scotland, remember?
You can’t tell if she believes you. Probably not. People not planning to kill themselves don’t blow their savings on a first class ticket over the Atlantic with no scheduled return flight.
Especially not after quitting their job.
The flight over the Atlantic is uneventful. Quiet as money can buy. You sip champagne at your window seat, recline as far back as you can go, and watch the ocean, far, far below. Its depths exceed, you remember, the heights at which humanity can fly—but you can’t really tell, looking at it from so far above. It looks like nothing less than a thin veneer stretched overtop the crust of the earth. A puddle that could barely cover the soles of your feet.
There’s not a single murmur of turbulence across the fifteen hours you’re in the air. Much that you might’ve welcomed it.
Your connecting trip to the Hebrides is much shorter. The massive sprawl of Glasgow shrinks and recedes as you leave it behind, replaced not long after by a spit of an island chain that, from a distance, hardly looks worth populating.
You land on Barra, on a sandy stretch of beach still wet and compact from the receding tide. There’s a cottage here with your name on the rental agreement for the next month, and your mind is already there ahead of you, thinking about arranging your toothbrush and toothpaste on the bathroom counter and sitting and listening to nothing but cold island wind in the grass. The cottage’s owner has graciously agreed to drive you there.
When you step off the plane, you miss him at first. You’re expecting someone completely different—an older man in cable knit, perhaps more mustache than face, and the morose demeanor of someone for whom sunlight is as common on the island as veins of gold. So your eyes skip over the younger man, even despite the sign he’s holding with your name on it.
But then you look again. Because with a man like him, you can’t not look again.
He’s wearing a sweater, sure. But he also looks like a rugby team maverick—burly and tall, rugged, tattooed, flaunting a dumb haircut because he’s handsome enough to get away with it.
He stands out from the few people in the airport as if the whole world has adjusted its lens to bring him into focus, sharpening his image such that anything in his periphery is too blurry to notice. He does not in the slightest look like he rents out an old fisher’s croft in the least popular place in Scotland.
But then you catch your name. Do a double take. Clutch your suitcase handle a little tighter, because when you approach, the man’s eyes widen, look you up and down, and then crease with a too-confident smile.
“Bonnie!” he exclaims when you introduce yourself. He has a deep, rough voice, burred and low. More still, he’s kilted, plaid hanging at muscular knees, with an odd speckled pelt slung around his hips.
You’ve never seen that before—maybe it’s an islander thing.
“You must be Mr. John MacTavish,” you say. Up close, there’s a weathered look to him, as if buffeted by the salt in the wind.
“Johnny’s fine,” he says, winking. His eyes are a lively, vibrant blue. The color of the ocean in some place much nicer than this one. “Welcome to Scotland!”
Then, incredibly, “Johnny” pulls you into a hug before you even realize what’s happening, brawny arms closing around you like the noose of a snare. You go rigid—what the hell?—but this man, whom you have met only just now, doesn’t seem to notice, compressing you against the blazing pillar of his body in an embrace that flattens your lungs behind your ribs.
“Um,” you manage. He smells like axe body spray and diesel fuel, and cold ocean wind. It wipes the forefront of your mind blank, like sweeping an arm across drawings etched in sand.
After at least five whiplashed beats of your heart, Johnny pats your back several times and lets you go, grinning.
“Sorry, bonnie. Scots are huggers.”
Then without warning, he reaches for the handle of your suitcase, warm hand nudging aside your own. “Let’s get you down there ‘fore the tide comes in. Canny wait t’show you the place, I fixed it up m’self.”
You let him take your luggage and follow; he sets off at an energetic clip that you struggle to keep up with. He gestures with his free hand as he talks, motions rising and falling with the tenor of his voice.
“You know you’re m’first guest? Was startin’ to wonder if I was gonna have to sell the place, no one seemed all that interested. Guess I can see why, no internet, barely any signal. Me, I think that’s a good thing, people spend too much time on their phones, y’know?”
You make a noncommittal noise.
Were you this cold before he let go of you?
“But it’s a great little place to get away, I promise you, nice and quiet, and I updated everything m’self. Radiator in the bedroom and everything!”
Another noise from you.
Thankfully, you reach his car—a small truck, older than the both of you, with only one row of seats and what looks like large spools of rope in the bed. Johnny pauses briefly to secure your suitcase beside them with a couple of bungee cords, and then opens the passenger side door for you to get in.
“It’s not too far from town too,” he continues as he slides into the driver’s seat. You attach your seat belt. He does not. “You got your essentials there. A supermarket—think you call ‘em grocery stores? There’s that and a cafe and a pub. No bank though, so let’s get cash now if you need it.”
“I have some.” You’d exchanged for a few hundred pounds in Glasgow.
“Good! You want to stop by the store? Took the liberty of filling up the fridge too, but if there’s somethin’ you want—”
“No,” you say.
“Alrigh,’” says Johnny.
You feel his eyes on you—when you look at him, he’s smiling again. You are not pleased to find, through the benefit of close proximity, that he has dimples.
“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothin,’” he says.
Johnny drives you across the causeway from Barra to Vatersay, the latter of which, he helpfully informs you, is populated by less than a hundred people.
“More wildlife than anything,” he comments, as the ocean outside the window passes by. The water is dull and gray, hidden from the sun by an overcast sky. “That’s what the tourists come for. You here to see the seals?”
“Seals?” you ask.
“Aye,” Johnny says, grinning. “They come here for breeding season.”
You ignore the quirk of his eyebrows.
The cottage stands alone, a ways out from the island’s main village at the top of a modest hillock. Island grasses sway along the dirt road as Johnny directs the truck upwards, coming to a stop a few meters away from the house proper.
It’s quaint. Thatch roof, cobbled walls. A generator hooked up on one side. There are flower boxes flanking the front door, although nothing’s in bloom; it’s the wrong season for it. The window frames are unpainted, and the glass panes, despite looking recently cleaned, are crusted with salt at the corners.
And it’s smaller than it looked in the pictures online. Even close up to it, the blue-grey sky overhead, swimming with dun-colored clouds, swallows it up.
You exit the truck into a cold breeze that tugs at the collar of your fleecy sweater. You’d read online that this time of year was the last gasp of summer into the autumn months in the Hebrides—it hardly feels that way, with the chill that drags its fingers across your hairline.
“It’s on a septic tank so y’ve got alright plumbing,” Johnny goes on, hefting your suitcase over one brawny shoulder. “Canny say much for the water pressure in the shower, but other than tha’ it’s alright. Matters more that it’s hot, ‘f you ask me—and it is! Come on, I’ll give y’the tour.”
The cottage is not big enough to warrant one. Johnny shows you the four rooms—kitchen, sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom—in under five minutes. It ends with him leaned up against the counter, arms folded genially across his plush chest, grinning at you like he knows some embarrassing secret of yours.
“Was thinkin,’” he says, scratching the stubble on his jaw with one thumbnail, “this’d be kind of a honeymoon thing, y’know? That woman with the time travel show, lots a’folks been comin’ here lately ‘cause a’her.”
“Is there anything else to do here besides look at seals?” you ask.
Soap gazes at you through half-lidded eyes, smirking. “I dinnae think you leave the bedroom much on a honeymoon, do you?”
You flush. “I never really thought about it.”
“So you’re no’ married, then?”
“No. Not—not interested.”
Johnny lifts one brow. “In marriage?”
“In anything.”
He keeps fucking smiling. You have a barely controllable urge to smack him; you settle for wringing the hem of your sweater, imagining it could be his neck.
“So what brings y’here, then?” he asks, tilting his head like a cat playing with its food. “If no’ a honeymoon?”
You frown.
The truth is, of course, that nothing brought you here. Vatersay, nor the Hebrides, nor Scotland itself were actually of any consequence. You’re ambivalent about the ocean, and you certainly don’t care about seals.
You just hadn’t been able to think of anything you wanted when you asked yourself that perennial question. You wanted nothing.
You wanted nothing.
So you found as much nothing as you could and bought the soonest first class ticket heading toward it.
Your only stipulation had been no language barrier—so here you are now, cursing the lack of such, because it means this man, who belongs on this island no more than you do, is bothering to try and talk to you.
“Just wanted some peace and quiet,” is what you decide to say.
“Needed a change, aye?” Johnny nods sagely, as if understanding. “I did too, when I came here. Was in the army. Special forces.”
“O-okay,” you say, because you hadn’t asked.
“Didnae plan to stay,” he continues.
He turns his head to look out the kitchen window; on one temple is the ghost of a scar. A starburst-ripple in the shaved side of his dark hair—nothing more.
But something about it suggests that the wound it closed around was a horror to behold.
Then he turns back to you, the corners of his mouth quirked. “But somethin’ about this place is hard to leave.” The quirk turns into another smarmy grin “Bet when your month’s up, you’ll know what I mean.”
It seems rude to say probably not. “Maybe.”
The radiator in the kitchen breathes a swell of warm air through the room, blooming with Johnny’s diesel-and-ocean scent. There’s very little space between you, him against the counter, you across from him at the sink. Johnny’s bulk claims what little room there is to maneuver, and if you tried to move away, it would require first moving closer.
“So,” you begin.
“Here,” he intercedes. “Wanna show you somethin.’”
The only reason you comply is because he leads you outside, which is a step closer to him finally leaving you alone. Johnny circles around the cottage, revealing a footpath that leads down the hill. The ground transitions from soil to sand as you both walk; the wind picks up as the sound of waves grows. Eventually you reach what turns out to be a small cove, hidden by the curve of the island, flanked on both sides by cliffs of only middling height.
The tide is only now making its way in; probably why you hadn’t realized it was here earlier. You think you’ll be able to hear the waves when you go to sleep tonight.
“Oh,” you say, unable to hide that it’s impressed you.
“Yeah,” Johnny replies, smug. “All yours. Come down whenever you like. Dinna recommend skinny dippin’ this time a’year, though.”
You look at him, intending some sort of flat response, but what you see stops your words up in the chamber of your throat.
There’s something…different about him. There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A dangerous cant to the angle of his grin. He suddenly feels very real to you—
Like standing in front of a wild animal.
Realizing, at the same time it does, that there is no barrier between it and you.
He looks you up and down. He doesn’t even try to hide it; too-blue eyes jaunt from yours down to your throat, the span of your shoulders, lingering on your chest before drifting down your stomach and hips. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, shoulders lifting as his chest expands, and you get the strange sense that he’s trying to smell you.
The ice that slithers through your veins, drips down the rigid column of your spine, wars with the spike of heat that breaks across your face. You feel here. You feel very present, your heart pumping wet in your chest, electrical wisps zipping to every nerve ending and back up your cerebellum to remind your brain of every part of your existing body.
Suddenly you are in Scotland, thousands of miles away from home, freezing fucking cold, only half of all the money you have in the world left in your bank account. Tomorrow stretching out in front of you. The next day after it.
Panic, which you thought buried, turns over in your belly, grave-dirt too light to keep it down. Hard earth is beneath your feet. A light drizzle is starting overhead. You begin to shiver, your nervous system’s effort to warm your hairless mammal body up, to save you from the cold and the wet and the fucking predator standing two paces away from you while gazing at you like it can’t wait to break your bones open for the marrow inside.
“Okay,” you finally snap, though you’re unable to keep your voice from quivering. “I really appreciate you driving me, Johnny, but—”
His eyes flash. The ocean-depths of them shift with an awareness beyond your ken, the dark edges deepening, the vivid blue swirling. The expression on his face transmutes into something unknowable—like the difference between the look on a pet dog’s face and a wolf’s.
Something isn’t there that should be, and what is in its place is entirely unfamiliar.
What is in its place is something your species evolved long past being able to understand.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, the flash is gone. Johnny is human again, as if he had always been in the first place. The thin crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes crinkle, as he gives you what he probably thinks is a sympathetic smile.
He doesn’t seem able, or perhaps willing to hide how amused he is, though.
“Long flight, I know,” he croons, meeting your gaze again. “Dinna worry, bonnie, I’ll let you get your rest.”
Whatever you were about to say dies. Your mouth hangs open. Johnny backs away from you, hands casually in his pockets.
“I’ll take you to see the seals tomorrow!” he calls to you before he turns away. A sudden gust ruffles the pelt hanging around his hips. “I know all the best spots.”
He throws you a casual wave, and then disappears over the rise.
You do hear the waves that evening, when you lay down to sleep. The covers are soft over you, cozy and warm even as the ocean wind hums outside.
You can’t stop shivering.
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a/n: last fic of the year (probably)! i'm so into this one tbh. i figured out the ending a while ago and i'm so dang excited to get to it.
#soap x reader#soap x you#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#john soap x reader#soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#soap mctavish#john soap mactavish#how the hell is his last name even spelled#mwritessoap#madi writes
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