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#oops i still wrote a lot
birdantlers · 2 years
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10 for the ask game
10. The Dragon Ball series isn’t exactly known for being consistent with its story, its characters, and various other things. Which inconsistency irritates you the most?
Omg . This question.
Okay, there are a hundred million things I would change abt dragon ball if I could, but the thing that pisses me off the most is definitely inconsistency with Gohan's characterization. Namely,
[deep breath]
Gohan should have stayed/become the main character after Cell Saga what the hell.
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I'm really tired rn so I can't elaborate as much as I want to but holy shit Buu saga really dropped the ball on this and it's one of the reasons I don't like that arc much. For a while before I knew what the arc was actually about, I got duped into thinking it would be largely Gohan-centric. Focusing on his relationship with humanity and his peers when he attends school / his old trauma/fears/idk.. anything negative or introspective?? Resurfacing when his dad comes back and shit inevitably hits the fan again.
(mandatory "thank for for existing, the Red Boy fic" statement. Look it up it's great I got derailed while reading the last chapter and I feel bad abt not getting back to it yet h)
But instead..... No? Gohan frustratingly gets yanked off center stage halfway through Buu saga, thanks to Toriyama's unfortunate authorship situation at the time. And after that he just....... Stays there. In the wings of Goku and Vegeta's story instead of taking the mantle of MC. It's really disappointing to me, and it's one of the reasons I still haven't watched Super lmao.
Ik I talk about piccolo for 172783736 hours at a time but Gohan's character arc is really the one that carries Z for me up to Buu saga. I consider Cell saga to be an infinitely superior end to his character arc, and I think the way it sticks the landing there is another reason why Buu saga gets on my nerves so much.
I've talked abt this with friends, but current Gohan also feels largely void of the gamut of emotions he was shown to have while younger, and that bugs the hell out of me. Obviously he's matured, but the fear and insecurity and loss he struggled with pre-buu arc feels strangely muted. Like he isn't allowed to cry now that he's an adult or something (though Goku got hit with this same problem, sigh). This doesn't help his already bad sidelining.
In Buu saga and Super, his repeated cycle of "BAMF fight where he comes out on top as strongest Z fighter→ peacetime→ complacency and domestic life→ uh oh he's weak now→ gets admonished for it and wins the day again" could be SUCH a good foundation for a compelling character arc, but they just. Don't do it! So it comes off as redundant and uncharacteristically negligent on Gohan's part. For as much as I love it, Super Hero drops the ball with this too.
I'm just gonna port my messages from discord and let y'all glean the gist
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Basically Gohan feels kinda McGuffin-ized at this point and it makes me sad. He literally had a CELL clone in front of him and had no visible reaction or even an acknowledgement. He's verbally passionate about things like the saiyaman gig or entomology or his family, but the plot and writing don't allow him to actually struggle with the obligation his power gives him.
Like. He might on the surface, sure, but ultimately he just rolls over whenever someone goads him into fighting again (I have seen that part(s) of super don't @ me). I just can't help but see wasted potential and a character with somewhat weak writing. It really is like they just don't know what to do with him now. And that's a real shame because he still is my 1st/2nd favorite character and I am still interested in his arc. Way more so than Goku or Vegeta's. I just wish they would DO something with it 😭
Anyway. Can you believe this isn't even all my thoughts on the matter hdhdhdkdjdj
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cindysnuts · 1 year
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The Minotaur
The Bull of Minos:
an unloved creature, his sole purpose was to exist as a blight.
Assigned the label of monster at birth,
he was thrown away into a cursed labyrinth
which would serve as his only home
and as his tomb.
Half bull and half man, he inherited the opportunity to be neither.
Being fundamentally misunderstood by his caretakers,
he was mandated to go against both of his natures
and feed only on his fellow men,
something neither a man nor a bull would ever do
unless he was forced to.
But it is what a monster would eat. And so it is what he was fed.
For the crime of daring to exist outside the binary delineating man from all else,
his life was spent in a prison designed to torture the mind,
becoming the fiend the oracles thought him to be,
and he was slaughtered.
His killer was immortalized as a hero
and secured a throne as reward
for ridding the world of such a deplorable beast.
He was given no eulogy.
Asterius was his name, meaning “Star.”
Perhaps it is a bit ironic, considering he spent his one and only life on this earth
locked underground
far away from the beauty of his namesake.
He was never able to live as himself,
never able to use his true name.
Who could he have been, if not so despised?
What could he have done?
Whom could he have loved?
Would he really have been a monster?
Is he the Mythological Minotaur?
Is he the Bull of Minos?
Or is he Asterius, the Star?
It is too late to change his fate,
but perhaps it is not too late
to change ours.
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holdharmonysacred · 2 years
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I woke up from a nap and want to swing at a hornet’s nest again, so I’m gonna give a hot take on villain redemption arc discourse:
A villainous character earning a redemption arc does not mean “Has this character become Morally Good enough to earn a slot on the good guys team?”, it means “Has the character’s writing earned this particular type of conclusion as the conclusion to this character’s arc, and can said writing sell the audience on it being the best narrative path for this character’s story to take? Or is the writing for this character such that giving the character a redemption arc without some serious groundwork leading up to it would at best give the audience intense narrative whiplash?”
Because a lot of villain redemption arc discourse - when it’s not dealing with the actual bad implications of the impulse of “Everyone who has ever been victimized by this character must magically forgive them, no one is allowed to have beef with this character who hurt them” that comes with a lot of redemption arcs - really just boils down to the redemption arc sucking ass because it’s being handed out to x characters when the writing around said characters has done nothing to really earn said payoff. You have to actually build up to the heel-face turn before you can say “This character is good now!”, the same way you have to have build up for any character arc’s conclusion. This is why it’s so common to have villains the writers want to redeem openly doubt their cause or get smacked in the face with The Consequences Of Their Actions - a villain with moral qualms about what they’re fighting for is more likely to leave and join the good guys, and a character Facing the Consequences Of Their Actions is more likely to go down the path of personal change that’s essential to any good redemption arc.
This is also why so many people get frustrated with redemption arcs getting handed out to fantasy tyrants. A fantasy tyrant’s crimes are typically massive and far-reaching and affect the whole cast, and tyrants in general just aren’t the type of people who would naturally come to a conclusion of “You’re right, we should stop being evil!”. Something big usually has to happen on the level of the universe itself punishing said tyrant for their sins - whether it be them getting violently deposed and thrown out of their Fantasy Tyrant position, or them facing immense personal tragedy as consequence of being a Fantasy Tyrant - so that the writing has an actual catalyst for the personal change required for the redemption arc in the first place. Situations like these is also where the impulse to say “Everyone must magically forgive this character because they are Good now!!!!” tends to get really ugly, since now it’s basically forcing the entire cast of a work to shut up about their grievances and let the Fantasy Tyrant do whatever they please, and that’s just shitawful writing.
To put it all a simpler way - if you’re writing a character who is a cartoonishly vile villain who’s constantly cackling while kicking puppies and is overall Evil And Lovin’ It, you’re going to need the run time of basically the entire series in order to get that villain to an ending of “They’re a sweet person on the side of good who runs a wholesome well-intentioned orphanage”, because that is a massive change in characterization that’s going to be extremely goddamn hard to sell to your audience unless you put in the legwork to make your writing earn that outcome. And depending on the villain, you really might just be better off writing the more natural outcome of “And then they were a horrible rat bastard to the end” rather than trying to force a redemption arc you’re in no way equipped to write.
#this is also why a lot of villain redemption arcs cheat and have the villain in question be Not Really Evil in the first place#it's easier to redeem an Evil Overlord who's an Evil Overlord in name only and is just an awkward nice guy in spikes#VS trying to redeem an Evil Overlord who is like. 100% unironically an evil overlord out to conquer and burn the land#the former's writing is such that 'this person joins the good guys' is a natural outcome of their character#the latter's writing is such that you would have to be a literal GOD at writing to pull it off#and when you're bound by limits like 'episode runtime' and 'a set amount of seasons' there's no way you can do that#edited to fix a horrible typo i made! i wrote 'no one is allowed to have beef with the character who forgave them'#that's supposed to be 'character who hurt them'! oops!#the problem there is not 'the redeemed character cannot have beefs with the cast because they were Forgiven'#it's 'the rest of the cast cannot have beef with the redeemed character because they're Redeemed and must therefore be Forgiven'#the character who got the redemption arc prrrrrrrrrrobably shouldn't be pissed off at the people they hurt once they've gotten that arc#(unless you're trying to make a point of the character falling back into old ways because Getting Better Is Hard)#the rest of the cast however DOES have every right to still be pissed with the character who got redeemed#because redemption and Becoming Good is only one step in the process of Fixing The Problem#and some potential narrative problems (like the old classic 'you killed my father!!!') CANNOT be fixed with redemption#if the big bad evil knight who killed the hero's father gets a redemption arc that still doesn't bring the dead dad back#and hero guy has every right to be still mad at now-redeemed evil knight for their dad's death
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🌙 and maybe alectra and la signora's first interactions?
Hehe, I can absolutely talk about this for you! Thank you very kindly for sending this in, there's a lot for me to talk about here and I am more than happy to do so!!
(source: this post by nougatships)
Give me a 🌙 in my inbox and I'll give you a random headcanon about my selfship, F/O, or self-insert. - So! The first time the two of us directly interacted was before the events of the game began, some time after Alectra had joined the Fatui as a young adult after parting ways with the couple that raised her when they reached Snezhnaya. She had spent much of her adolescence travelling across Teyvat (since the couple that raised her were both adventurers), so over time she had gained a great deal of self-taught skill with sword wielding. Her combat prowess caught the attention of her superiors, and so she was selected to receive a Delusion and become promoted to a Harbinger's subordinate rather than a mere new recruit or a skirmisher limited to an elemental weapon.
At the ceremony, where Alectra and the other few selected agents were presented with their Delusions that would allow them to wield the elements without needing celestial favour, La Signora was the one out of the Harbingers present who chose her to be another one of her subordinates. The other agents who already reported to Signora quickly took note of how quickly Alectra flew up through the ranks to an ever-higher position under her instruction, eventually becoming the Eighth Harbinger's second-in-command and partner. Our connection came very mutually and quickly.
However.. that's not actually the first time the two of us met; our first meeting happened many years prior, when both of us were known by different names and held different forms.
You see, to call us soulmates is accurate in more ways than one.
Content warning under the readmore for many mentions of fire and burning, as well as the death of a bird (though, as you'll realise, this isn't permanent). Regardless of whether or not you want to keep reading, thank you very much once again for sending this ask in; I really enjoyed writing all this out.
Five hundred years ago, a woman known only as the Crimson Witch of Flames walked the land. She had used a now-lost art to transform her body into liquid fire as a result of her anguish at losing the one she had been closest to up until that point, and wielded these flames to burn away the monsters and the evil of the world. Despite this noble goal, she was feared and hated by other humans, and the fearsome might of her fire meant the only animals who could get close to her were the birds, chirping by her side and giving her all the understanding she needed.
Once, there was also a little female nightingale, who did not sing but whose feathers were tipped with white patches. This made her stand out amongst the other birds who pitied and cared about the lonely lady branded a witch, and so the little nightingale felt special. But she also felt sad, because she could not help the lady who had been so abandoned by the world.
The anger of humans against what they called the Crimson Witch caused them to lash out against her at one point, fighting fire with fire to chase away her and the birds. As a result of this, the little nightingale was struck by the humans' flames, charring her white feathers black - and as the lonely lady once known as Rosalyne reached out to catch one of her only and most familiar companions, a little bird small enough to cradle in the palms of her hands, the nightingale's feathers became ever-burning plumes.
The anguish that Rosalyne felt at being unable to protect something she had cared about so much caused the fires that fuelled her to erupt, and they threatened to consume her entirely because of this - but the first of the Fatui Harbingers found her and offered her salvation in the form of a glacial seal that would quell her endlessly blazing flames. She accepted to save her life, leaving her past behind and taking on a new identity as the Eighth Fatui Harbinger, Signora - but even the Cryo Delusion she was gifted was not enough to contain all of her emotions or her power. These remnants escaped, and were absorbed by the dying spirit of the nightingale, who herself was sustained by this energy as well as her own will to live on; as a result of this combination, her spirit coalesced and was reborn into a human form, back in Rosalyne's homeland.
And, although it took a long time, the once-nightingale now using a name like that of a Fury eventually found her way back to her lady.
Thank you very much once more for sending this ask in, and additionally for taking the time to read all of this if you did so.
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wonusite · 9 months
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I Hate U, I Love U
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❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞
PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader
WORD COUNT: 20.8k
GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut
WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation
a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!
You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.
An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.
Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.
As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.
Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.
This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.
The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.
As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.
You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.
In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.
“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”
You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.
The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.
Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.
For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.
Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.
“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”
Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.
“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?
You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.
“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”
Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.
Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.
You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.
When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.
“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”
You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?
“I’m talking to you.”
Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”
Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”
“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”
You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”
Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.
“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”
Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.
The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.
Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.
When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.
In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.
“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”
If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”
The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.
“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”
You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.
“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”
His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”
“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”
Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.
The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.
Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.
Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.
“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”
You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”
Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.
“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”
The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”
You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”
“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”
A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”
Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”
You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”
Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”
You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.
Things don’t get better after that first day.
Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.
As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.
“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.
“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”
It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”
It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.
“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”
His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.
“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.
Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”
“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”
Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.
“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.
It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.
But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.
“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.
“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”
“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”
Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.
“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.
“Did his family go broke or something?”
“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”
There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.
You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.
Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.
It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.
If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.
“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”
“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”
There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”
Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.
Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.
Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.
The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.
In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.
Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.
That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.
This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.
When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.
“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”
It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.
“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”
“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”
Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.
“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”
You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.
“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.
Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.
The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.
Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.
Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.
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“Your dad really outdid himself.”
Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.
“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”
Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:
1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.
But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.
“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”
Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.
“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”
His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?
“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”
He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?
“Son.”
Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”
Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.
The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.
Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.
“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.
“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”
It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.
“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”
Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.
“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.
“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”
Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”
“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”
Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.
“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”
Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.
“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”
He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.
The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.
“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”
His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.
“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”
Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.
“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.
“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”
There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”
“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”
She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.
There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.
This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.
“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.
Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”
The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”
You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”
Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.
“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.
You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”
Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”
Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.
“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”
“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”
Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”
You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”
“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.
“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”
You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.
Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.
If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.
Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.
“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”
Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.
“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”
Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”
“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”
“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”
Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.
At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.
Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.
“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.
“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.
Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.
Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”
You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.
“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”
Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”
He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.
“The very one.”
It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”
You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”
Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.
“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.
“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”
“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.
Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.
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As usual, your manager was right to worry.
Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.
It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”
You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”
Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”
For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.
“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”
Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.
You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.
As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.
“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.
“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”
He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.
It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.
Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.
The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.
You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.
Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.
It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.
“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.
Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”
Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.
“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”
He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.
“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.
Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.
“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”
You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.
“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.
“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”
Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.
You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.
You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.
This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.
When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.
“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”
Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.
The victory, however, is short-lived.
Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.
It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.
When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.
Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.
“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”
You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”
Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.
“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”
Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.
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Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.
“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”
Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.
“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.
The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?
Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”
The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.
“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”
“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.
“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.
“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”
His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.
“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”
Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.
“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”
There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.
“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”
“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."
“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”
Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.
After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.
Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.
All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.
“Y/N.”
You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.
There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.
“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.
You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.
“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”
The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.
“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”
Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.
“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”
The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.
Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”
There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.
“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”
Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.
“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”
“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.
“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”
When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.
The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.
“What is it that you want to say, then?”
“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”
Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?
“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”
That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.
In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.
“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”
Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”
All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.
“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”
Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”
His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”
Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.
“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”
The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.
“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”
Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”
“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”
“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.
It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”
Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.
You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.
“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.
The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.
“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”
Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”
With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.
Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”
Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.
You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.
The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.
“You’re not going to say anything?”
Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.
“Be my girlfriend.”
His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”
“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”
You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”
Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.
“Fine, but I have conditions.”
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Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.
“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”
You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”
Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.
“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.
You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”
Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.
“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”
Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.
“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”
You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”
Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.
Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.
He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.
“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.
“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.
You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.
“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”
Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”
He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.
“Then, should we take it a step further?”
You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.
Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).
“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”
Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.
You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”
There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.
Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”
On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.
There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.
Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.
“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.
You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.
Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.
When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.
“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.
“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”
After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.
You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.
When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.
“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”
Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.
His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.
Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.
You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.
“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.
You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.
“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”
You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.
“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”
It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.
“I don’t hate you.”
His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”
“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.
“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.
“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.
Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”
He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.
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“They look so cute together.”
This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.
“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.
Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.
At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.
It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.
“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.
You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.
“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”
You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.
“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”
His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.
And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.
“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.
“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.
“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”
Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”
You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.
“Stay forever.”
It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.
In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.
“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.
“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”
“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”
You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.
“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.
“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”
His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.
When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.
“Want to get breakfast?”
You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.
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“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”
Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.
“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.
The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”
Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.
“You’re not coming back?”
You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.
“And I don’t want to breakup.”
The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”
“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”
It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.
“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.
You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.
“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”
Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.
“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”
Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”
The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.
“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.
Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.
“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”
Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”
You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”
Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.
“Why?”
You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
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Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.
“I missed you so much.”
You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.
The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.
Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”
Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.
“Let me show you how much I missed you.”
Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.
When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”
Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.
The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.
“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”
“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.
You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.
Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.
The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.
“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”
His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.
“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.
You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.
Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.
“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.
He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.
“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.
That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.
“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”
“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”
You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.
“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.
Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”
“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.
Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.
“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.
You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.
“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”
“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.
Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.
Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.
“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.
You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.
“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”
His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.
“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.
“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”
“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”
He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”
His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.
The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.
“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.
You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.
Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.
“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”
It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.
“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.
He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”
“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.
Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.
Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.
Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.
“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.
You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.
His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.
“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”
Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.
In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.
Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.
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taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo
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anundyingfidelity · 6 months
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FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader
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Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.
Word count: 3.9k.
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.
Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!
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GEN MASTERLIST!
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It's harder to stay...
Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.
The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.
Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.
"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.
Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"
The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.
"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.
"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.
"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.
During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.
"So it's personal..."
"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.
"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
2029, Sacred Timeline
When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.
But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.
You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.
At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.
Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.
He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.
So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.
Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.
The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.
"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.
You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.
"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.
All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."
"Loki, I saw you die..."
Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.
"I know you did, my love."
You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.
And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.
"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"
Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.
"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."
"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."
"What?" you mumbled.
Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?
"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.
Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"
He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."
You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.
"Your death was supposed to be then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.
Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.
Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.
"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"
"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.
You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."
Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"
"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."
"Or you could do both."
"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."
"It's not your fault."
"I know, Loki."
"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."
You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."
Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.
You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.
"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."
He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."
"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."
"No,I can't-"
"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."
Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.
"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."
And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."
Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.
When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.
"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.
Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."
His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.
You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."
"Thank you, love."
Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.
"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.
"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.
So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.
Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.
"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.
"I love you too."
Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.
The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.
So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.
He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.
Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.
At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.
"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."
"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.
"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.
"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.
"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."
And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.
You were right. Mobius was a good friend.
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emotionalcadaver · 9 months
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I originally had typed up a whole ass angry rant about how fucking awful some of the takes are about Oppenheimer (it seems primarily from people who haven't even seen the fucking film), but I decided against posting it (and then I wrote this which now that I'm reading over it, still ended up being a bit of an angry fucking rant so oops).
But what I will say is that the film does not glorify the bomb or what it was used for. So please shut the fuck up about that. Also, this is a story about J. Robert Oppenheimer. The bomb is a large part of the story because it was a huge part of his life. But the focus is on him and his emotional journey through the film. They are trying to pack about 600 pages of dense material into three hours. There is simply not enough time to go on a side quest to address a lot of the things many of you are insisting be addressed. Especially when Oppenheimer himself was not directly involved in them.
I've seen many people say that this story should never have been told. And, kindly, fuck you. We live in an age where people are constantly trying to change, discredit, or dismiss history. We desperately need more people to become engaged with it again. Prior to this film, there were a whole ton of people who had been so failed by their history classes they had no idea who J. Robert Oppenheimer even was. People still know alarmingly little about the bomb and the scientists who worked on it and if this film allows them to be more interested/educated in that topic, that's a win.
This film brings to light more than just the bomb. It's a discussion on morality and the relationship between scientists and the government.
Also, you don't get to say that a piece of art shouldn't be made just because it makes you fucking uncomfortable. Don't consume that piece of art, then. But you have no right to say someone shouldn't make something, or others shouldn't consume or enjoy it just because it makes you uncomfortable.
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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.
Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.
OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT
Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 2899
Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining
A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:
-----
The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 
And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 
But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 
Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 
That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 
You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 
Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.
You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 
“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 
“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 
“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 
Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 
“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 
“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 
“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 
It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 
Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 
There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 
You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 
“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.
“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 
“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 
The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 
“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 
“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 
Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 
You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 
“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 
“What’d you do this weekend?” 
“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 
Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 
“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.
You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 
“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 
Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 
You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 
“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 
Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 
You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 
God, you were down bad. 
“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 
“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 
You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 
That was all you needed to hear. 
— — —
You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 
Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 
You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 
After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 
As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 
“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 
It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.
Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 
You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 
The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 
“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 
Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 
Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 
Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 
As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 
“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 
“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 
You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 
But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 
No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.
——
read part 2 here
537 notes · View notes
fairysluna · 23 days
Note
Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!
i get drunk on jealousy.
Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.
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MASTERLIST
PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.
TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.
I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍
WORD COUNT — 3.1k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.
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Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.
Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.
“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”
“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.
“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”
He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.
Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.
Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.
Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.
They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.
“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.
You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.
“You're mad?” you dared to ask.
“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.
“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”
“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”
“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”
Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”
“I- I didn't-”
“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”
“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”
“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”
Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.
“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.
You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.
“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”
Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.
You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”
His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.
“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”
He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.
Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.
“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”
He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”
“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”
You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.
“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”
Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.
Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.
The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”
You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.
He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.
That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.
“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”
Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.
“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.
“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.
The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.
“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”
“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”
A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.
“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”
“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”
Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”
“P-please, Cregan…”
“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”
Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.
“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”
“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.
“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”
As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.
“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.
“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.
“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”
Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.
You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.
“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”
“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”
“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”
Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.
“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”
You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.
“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”
“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.
“I promise,” you softly nodded.
The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.
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follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!
GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics
CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon
JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic
842 notes · View notes
bluetimeombre · 4 months
Text
──•~❉᯽❉ Third times the charm
Tom and you met over zoom whilst auditioning for your roles in the ballad of songbirds and snakes. Instant attraction and the chemistry was off the charts, everyone could see it, even you two fools. In every interview you did, as co-stars, as best friends and finally, as a couple…
(from me: hi, sorry, I’m dying for Tom Blyth content so I made so myself. I can't bring myself to write y'/n so i'm just going with 'you.' But I wrote it so you're british, oops. This is also to make up for choosing timmy in the 'call it what you want to' series, for the tom girlies, enjoy!)
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──•~❉᯽❉~•──
' How well do the stars of Ballad of songbirds and snakes know each other? - Vanity Fair. '
Tom, you and Josh sat together in the Vanity Fair studio. While Tom kept his cards close to his chest (literally), you and Josh waited anxiously. You were sure you would win though, even Josh was sure you would win. Tom and you had spent almost every day together all year. People in the studio- who had only caught a ten minute glimpse of your friendship- knew your souls were made together.
'First question,' said Tom, pulling the cards back further. 'What is my biggest fear?'
Josh slapped his knee in frustration and you slumped in your chair, laughing to yourself. You must know, surely. 'Mine is gonna be, probably, a little bit more shallow,' said Josh before you could even make a guess.
You rose your brows focusing on a specific point on the floor. 'Shallow?'
Tom rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. His lips were tilted in a fond smile at her concentration. 'You ok?' he laughed, 'you know this- you've got this.'
'No, I do know this, you've told me,' you say.
'You've told her?' gasped Josh.
'I've probably told you!' said Tom. He seemed completely absent minded over the fact he was still holding onto your shoulder, massaging it gently.
'Ok, I think it's- ironically- snakes. That's my guess.' Finally, you breath and cross your legs over.
'Interesting. Josh?' he asked, taking his hand from you. (Maybe eagle eyed fans would see the way his hand flexed at his side, just under the chair. And maybe twitter would blow up with the Mr Dracy like move.)
'I was gonna say mountain lions.'
You and Tom laughed. 'That's more shallow?'
'In what way is that more Shallow?' Tom laughed.
Josh gesture wildly to you. 'I thought you were gonna say something more conceptual.'
'Oh sorry,' you apologise.
Josh leant back on his chair. 'Yea, you should be.'
Tom finished writing on the card. 'So, it was my childhood fear, which I've obviously gotten over but it was-' he turned the card, revealing his scribble. 'Snakes.'
'Yes!' you cheered. 'I knew it!'
'I think it's because I used to watch a lot of Indiana Jones as a kid and because he was afraid of snakes, I think it transferred on to me,' he explained.
'Makes sense,' you shrugged.
'Cool people are afraid of snakes,' Tom agreed.
'And mountain lions,' added Josh, causing your cheeks to heat up with laughter. There was probably nobody who could be so nonchalant in how he makes you laugh.
'Point to you!' cheered Tom, holding up his hand. Quickly you high-fived him and held his hand for a flickering moment before moving on.
'What is my go-to karaoke song?'
You were safe to say, gob-smacked. You swivel in your seat, eyes wide. 'You have a go-to karaoke song?'
He stares at you, just as shocked at your surprise. 'We all do.'
'We do?' you asked. 'Then what the hell is Josh's?' you turn to him, curious.
'9 to 5, Dolly Parton,' he said, seriously. But even that got you cracking up.
'I expect one of you to know this,' said Tom, scribbling his song choice.
'Oh, no pressure then,' you said.
'We went to karaoke all the time.'
'Yes but I don't remember all the song,' you fold your arms over your chest, chewing down on your lips.
'Oh no,' Josh hunched over and you pat his back, mumbling to yourself. 'I feel like- I wanna say it was some punk-rock thing.'
'Do you want a clue?' Tom offered.
'Yes!' Josh.
'No!' You.
'Ok, not then,' said Tom, deciding.
'Wait, no, that's not fair,' Josh complained, 'I want a clue.'
Tom shrugged, holding out his arms. 'Boss said.'
'Yea I don't know why I said that,' you laugh, still thinking. You remember him singing to you, in your trailers or hanging out on set. He or you would strum a guitar and sing together. But karaoke?
'Mambo number 5,' Josh announced.
'Mambo number 5,' Tom checked.
Your brows scrunched up. 'That's punk rock?'
Josh looked at you, then remembered what he was saying. 'No, i'm gonna change mine to all the small things.'
'Ok, your guess?' asked Tom, nudging you.
'Oh I don't know,' you shrug, 'Sexy back, Justin Timberlake.'
'Close!'
'I was close?' you gasp, jumping up in your seat.
'It was,' he shows the card. 'Senorita, Justin Timberlake.'
You and Josh laughed together.
'I don't think I ever heard you sing that!' Josh argued.
'We definitely did, definitely.'
Josh shook his head, body shaking with laughter. 'I don't think I even know the words to the song.'
Tom shifted in his seat, changing cards. 'That's the point of Karaoke, they're up on the screen'
You turn to him, face screwed up and holding onto his knee. 'That's not the point of karaoke babe,' you said solemnly. It was a joke between the cast, how often you called people babe. As a brit. Sometimes you even said it in a Gemma Collins way.
'Anyway, half a point to you!'
You fist pump the air while Josh complains loudly. Whilst bickering, Tom moved on and had to repeat the question.
'What is my favourite mode of New York transportation?' he asked.
You chuckled to yourself, rubbing your head. 'That is the funniest question ever.'
Tom scoffed, his lips curling up. 'How is that a funny question?'
'I've just never known transportation to come up in one of our conversations. Imagine meeting someone and being like 'hey, guess what? my favourite mode of transport is...''
Josh laughed at the hurt look on Tom's face and your own sarcasm.
'Oh yea, what is it then?'
'Your motorcycle,' you said obviously.
'Well, you knew it didn't you,' he pointed out. The two of you bickering like a married couple. Even the crew behind the scene were blushing at you two and laughing.
'I didn't get to guess!' erupted Josh.
Tom and you laughed, holding onto each other and apologising to him.
Josh leant back in his chair, throwing his leg over his knee. 'Ok so motorcycle but i'm gonna go the extra mile and say- I think it's a Honda.'
Tom calmed down, wiping tears of laughter before showing the camera his answer. 'It is motorcyle but Josh is wrong, it's not a Honda so the point goes to you.'
You pat yourself on the back while Josh looks into the camera.
'This is what happens when you give 110%. Is this the example we want to set?'
Tom rests his hand on your back, un-consciously rubbing it. 'Ok so, point to you and Josh gets ... three quarters of a point.'
You nod your head. '75%. Have you got any points?'
Josh glared at you. He then noticed Tom's hand resting on your back. 'Why are you comforting her? i'm the loser.'
You clicked your tongue, pushing him. It was lucky you didn't notice how Tom blushed, turning back to his cards and made a mental note to keep his hands to himself.
The three of you continued down the questions:
'If I weren't an actor, what profession would I be?' Tom
'What are you? writing down a novel there?' You
'You'd definitely work with mountain lions.' Josh
'For some reason I want to say Fire man but that's not it.' You
'What is my coffee order?' Tom
'Oh, I know this, it's the same as mine. Josh, you know this?' You
'Of course not.' Josh
'What is my biggest pet peeve?' Tom
'So many things come to mind.' You
'Am I a grumpy old man to you?' Tom
'Tom has always been so relaxed and easy going, go ahead and put a point down for me.' Josh
For the next question, Tom looked pointedly at you. 'I really hope you get this. What is my hidden talent?'
Josh looked seriously at Tom, only suddenly playing the game. 'I think I know what mine is.'
'I think you should both get this,' he said, writing down the answer.
'Whistling,' you guessed simply.
Tom quipped his lips at you, head moving slightly.
'Well, I was also gonna say whistling,' Josh smirked.
Tom laughed. 'You're so full of shit.'
'I said it first, you're good at whistling. You can whistle like a disney bird,' you said, trying to win more points in flattery.
'Thank you.'
You looked into the camera. 'Tom's actually going to be playing a bird in the new Snow White movie with Rachel Zegler.'
The boys laughed.
Tom nodded, turning around the card. 'The answer is whistling.'
Josh and you shake hands and Tom started to show of his whistling skills, the familiar tune of the hunger games and holding up three fingers.
'I was- that made me nervous,' said Tom shakily.
'Yea, you were shaking,' you said.
Tom reached out for your arm, before remembering before and pulling back. 'I know, did you see my lip quivering.'
'I was nervous for you.'
'Yea, yea, yea,' agreed Tom.
Josh pretended to get out of his seat. 'I should go, i'll leave you guys to it.'
You pulled him back down while Tom moved on, asking the couple final questions. It ended with you earing 6 points, while Josh was at a lousy 2.75. But then, it was yours and Josh's turn to 'flip the script' on Tom. If he got them wrong, you guys got the points so you'd made sure to chose difficult questions.
You just hadn't expected Tom to know everything.
'Tom.'
'Yes,' he stared intently, ready for anything.
'What is my dogs name?' you smirked, thinking he wouldn't remember. Since you were on set and then traveling for press your dog was staying with your family and Tom had only met him once or twice.
'Easy. Padfoot.'
Your brows dropped and you turned away, pressing your lips into a tight line.
Tom nudged you. 'Did you think I wouldn't get it?' he asked and his jaw-dropped when you nodded. 'Of course i'd get it, I love your boy.'
'What the hell is a Padfoot?' asked Josh.
'It doesn't matter,' you waved of, trying to distract yourself from blushing. You really didn't think Tom would get it, would care enough to remember.
'It's a Harry Potter thing,' explained Tom. He stretched out his arm so it held onto the back of your chair. Not touching, right.
Josh asked his question. Tom got it right again and you were looking down at your card, wondering if it was hard enough for him.
Tom watched you set the cards down, tuck your chin into your chest and put your hands behind your chair. 'Oh no,' he chuckled.
'There is a piece of jewellery that I always wear. Now obviously i couldn't wear it whilst filming, but I had it kept in my trailer. And after we wrapped it went straight back on. The question is what piece of jewellery is it?'
Josh was laughing and trying to guess himself while Tom panicked. Every day for a year he had been around you. He'd had lunch with you, hung out in your trailer, you'd nap together and laugh together. He's seen you swimming in nothing but a lovely swim suit. He'd held your hands and you guys had even worn each others rings. How could he not know? He was beating himself up about it, all the while you smirked at him. Tom could almost excuse the fact of being a shitty friend to see how giddy it got you.
He tried to peek behind the chair but you shifted. 'Ok I don't think it's a ring because you change up your rings a lot.'
'Ok,' you hum.
Tom pulled at his lip. You weren't hiding your ears so it couldn't be an earing. That's when he remembered. Tom clicked his fingers. 'It's your locket! and it's gold!'
You sit up straight. 'How?!' Tom immediately looked to your neck- or maybe it was closer to your chest- where your locket dangled just under your shirt 'Well, I think we know who knows each other the best!'
──•~❉᯽❉~•──
Some months later, about eight, you and Tom were back at a quiz. The two of you were starring in different things. Tom's series which he stared in, 'Billy the kid' was having it's third and final debut while you staring in a adaptation of 'Malibu Rising' by Taylor Jenkins Reid for Apple Tv.
' The BFF test! ' - Glamour.
'How do you think we're gonna do?' asked Tom.
'That's not even a question Tom, we're gonna do great!' you threw a thumbs up at the camera and Tom copied you with a grin.
'Let's do this shit!' he yelled.
The crew behind the camera gasped and laughed while you hunched over, chuckling. He realised his mistake, how he wasn't supposed to swear and put his hand over his mouth.
'I am so sorry,' he apologised. Only when you caught your breath did you stand up and hold onto him. His arm wrapped around you back, holding you too.
Eventually, once you two had regained yourselves, you were asked how well you think you know each other.
'Pretty well,' you said.
'Very well,' Tom corrected.
'Very well it is, very well it is,' you said.
The crew behind the camera asked when you first met.
'Over zoom,' you said.
Tom nodded. 'it was a chemistry read for hunger games. Coriolanus and Lucy-Grey. You sang an acoustic version of Silver springs and I watched.'
'And the rest is history. Inseparable ever since,' you smile, swaying side to side while Tom watched with a fond smile. 'But seriously, it was a very lovely moment and since then, i've had a best friend in Tom.'
'Aw,' he said, throwing an arm around your shoulder and drawing you in. 'I love this girl,' he told the camera.
Eventually, once the two of you were finished with the introductions they had you stand opposite each other with a small notebook and pen. Your task: to write a compliment about each other.
Tom was already writing down his, page being filled up quickly. 'How much time you got?'
'Done,' you said, closing your notebook.
Tom looked up. 'What?'
'I'm kidding,' you assured him at his shocked and maybe slightly hurt face. 'How are you writing so much?'
'I have a lot to say about you.'
'Sappy.'
'Shut it, you love it.' Tom was focused on writing down, getting all his thoughts and a thousand unsaid words on page. He couldn't tell how you watched him with a smile and a shimmering glimmer in your eyes, but fans could, and they'd deem it the look of love.
After a moment longer of writing, you finished, looking at him. 'Ready?'
Tom finished his sentence and nodded. 'Ready.'
'Ok you go first,' you say.
'No, you go first,' he insists, the two bickering over each other. 'Ladies first.'
'Age before beauty,' you say.
Tom rolled his eyes playfully but held up his notebook. 'This is- this is nerve racking, woah,' he says, laughing.
'No, I know. I'll turn around if that helps,' you go to turn.
Tom grabs your arm. 'No, don't-' he cleared his throat, let you go and started to read. 'You are incredibly talented, that's the first one. Your acting, your voice, it's unbelievable and every time I watch you at your work, i'm in awe. As well as that, you are so dedicated to your craft, whether it's flying back and forth for your movies or not giving up until you've nailed a scene, you just- you give 110% every time and it's inspiring to watch. Not only do you make me want to be a better actor, but a better man-'
He read from his notebook, flicking through the pages as you watched, mouth covered and tears welling up in your eyes.
'You're insanely intelligent, you have such a unique style that is so you. You give confidence to others and always bring the best out in them. You're witty, you're hilarious, absolutely hilarious, I don't laugh with anyone the way I laugh with you. And you are just the most beautiful girl in the world.' Only when he had finished did he look up and see you wiping your eyes.
'Christ,' you mutter, turning away as the crew laughed.
Tom wrapped you in a bear hug, laughing and rocking you back and forth. 'You're not suppose to cry.'
'How can I not?!' you mumble into his chest. 'Ok.' you took a deep breath, calming yourself before standing back from him and looking down at your own notes. 'Well mine just seem so rubbish now,' you joke toward the camera.
'Tom. You're a talented actor. One of the most talented i've ever met, or ever seen. Watching you on the hunger games, I mean, I was speechless half the time. You're the kindest and sweetest man I know. It's no secret i've always said, men, they suck but you, you changed that. You, single-handily restored my faith in men,' you say, creating a laugh through the studio and him. 'Er, i've just listed compliments, funny, caring, talented, gorgeous, beautiful, so-so hot- I mean, the list goes on but it's not gonna be anything like you gave me.'
'It's perfect, thank you.'
You gesture to him, looking in the camera. 'He's a gentleman.'
Your next task was harder, looking into each other eyes for one minute.
'Is this gonna be like, a staring contest,' you wonder out loud as the two of you already keep your eyes on each other.
'I hope not, my eyes sting already,' says Tom. For a moment, the two of you are just there staring at each other. Your hands behind your back, his at his side as small smiles play at your lips.
'Your eyes are so blue, christ, i've never just stared at them like this before,' you compliment. 'Add that to my list.'
'Are you crying? You look like you're going to cry again?' asked Tom, peering closer at you.
'That's just me, i'm always in a state of verge of tears.'
He laughs, but keeps his eyes open and on you. After a minute, you two finally looked away, rubbing at your eyes. 'I think we were having a staring contest then,' he said.
'Yea, yea, yea, my eyes hurt.'
There was a couple extra challenges, trying to say the same word at the same time (you guys failed every time except last where you both said 'hunger games') and to mirror each others move. The last one, is a trust fall.
'Send it!' Tom pretended to fall back immediately as you lunged to catch. He didn't fall but laughed at your readiness. 'Send it!'
'Stop!' you yell.
'Ok, for real this time, you ready?' he asked, holding his arms over his chest and glancing back at you.
'I'm so scared!'
Tom looked at the camera. 'Why are you scared? i'm the one falling!'
'Ok, on the count of three,' you say, holding your arms out.
'Are you counting up or down?'
'Down. Ok, three... two...one!'
Tom fell back and you held him up, pushing his back. The two of you stumbled a bit causing Tom's eyes to widen, but you had him.
'You are heavier than you look,' you say. 'All that pure muscle.'
Tom struggled back up and then it was your turn. 'On the count of three?' he asked, arms out.
'No!' you whine. 'I hate this!'
'Trust me. Don't you trust me?'
You have your hands tucked to your side. You look into the camera. 'This is gonna send me right back to therapy.'
Tom laughs behind you but reaches over to hold onto your shoulders. 'C'mon, you can do this, i'll slowly ease you back.'
You squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips, stifling a hum. 'That's cheating.'
Tom tuts, 'No it's not: now-' gently he held onto your shoulders and-bending at the knees- he gently eased you down, until he was crouching and until you were rocking on your heels. You took a deep breath as he held you back up. Your arms were still over your chest as your body wracked with a laugh.
'That was so dumb.'
Tom still had you in his hold, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in.
──•~❉᯽❉~•──
A year later and finally, the fans dreams came true. When the video was released, fans went crazy, thinking it was fake or a mashup of clips put together. Instead, it was true. A very real video of the two of you doing a 'couples quiz'.
'Hello!' Tom waved at the camera, before gesturing between the two of you. 'We are here today to do the-'
'Couples interview!' you finish. 'Years in the making it would seem,' you added, slapping your cards over your knee.
Tom looked at his cards. 'What is my first name?'
'Tom Keir Blyth,' you answer easily, 'not Thomas. Against popular contradiction.'
He laughed, knowing you'd call him Thomas to annoy him if you ever bickered. 'Not Thomas.'
'Call him Thomas and he'll break up with you.'
'That hasn't happened!' he told the camera, whacking you playfully with the cards a you sat across from him. 'Ok, moving on, where did I grow up?'
'Birmingham,' you say, in your best Birmingham accent.
'What was my fist film role?' he asked, smirking at the question.
You sigh, throwing your head back. 'Ok so... I don't know if it was your very first one, or maybe it was like, the second or something but you were in Robin Hood, and you played feral child number three.'
'That's exactly what I have on my card,' he said, showing it off to you.
'I'm the best girlfriend,' you sing.
Tom laughed, marvelling at you for a moment before moving onto the next question. 'Oh ok, where was our first kiss?'
You shrug, thinking it obvious. 'On set.'
Tom looked back down to his cards. 'Oh yea, I should've specified- our first kiss like as a couple, or just not on set.'
You laugh. 'Ok, cool, I was gonna say, that's an easy one. So of set, I guess, it was my hotel room. In New York, yea.'
'See, I had down-'
'You had something else down?' you gasp, leaning over in your chair.
'Yea. I had it down as the picnic, when you came to see me on set of Billy,' he explained. He remembered the day fondly. You and him, riding horses into the sandy terrain, taking a picnic down and one of his breaks and rolling around the blanket, laughing and digging fingertips into each other. Lips clashing in the heat of sun.
'But we- ok fine, that was our first kiss.'
'We did, kiss in the hotel room, you're right,' he insisted.
'No, but if you're counting first kiss as a couple then you're right, the picnic.'
'No you should still get the point because that kiss does count.'
Your exchange could've gone on forever if someone behind the camera hadn't spoken up, saying how adorable you two were, causing blushes from both of you before he moved on.
'What is my favourite thing to bring with me when I travel?' he asks.
'Me,' you say, without faltering.
'Correct!' he chucked the card behind him.
'Was it actually?'
Tom nodded. 'Yea. Well number one was you and then the second was my motorbike key.'
You roll your eyes. 'Of course it was. Thank you for putting me above the key at least.'
'Always, darling, always. What is my favourite jacket to wear?' he asked.
You thought about it, carefully and for a while. 'You don't have many but I'm trying to think which you wear the most.'
'I think you'll know it, you should get it.'
You raise your head to the ceiling, taking it more seriously than probably needed. He concentrated on you, wondering how hard you were thinking. 'The thing is- i'm thinking practicality. So like, that would be your motorbike jacket. But the one that I see you in most, and that I wear the most, is like your long, black jacket?'
'I had my motorbike jacket down, so half a point.'
'It crossed my mind!' you defended.
'It did, yes. So 50% of a point.'
You laugh. 'Not 75%.
'Who was my first celebrity crush?' he asked.
'Me,' you answer sarcastically.
Tom rose his card, covering his grin. 'Do you want to try again?'
'No,' you say. You knew what it was, you were taking the joke from him.
'Please?' he asked quietly.
You laugh at how wide his eyes were. 'Your first celebrity crush was Jennifer Anniston, ok.'
'Correct. But if I knew you back then, it would've been you.'
'Thanks, babe.'
'Ok, so I feel like you got pretty much every one of them,' said Tom, tucking his cards away.
'I feel like I did too, how ready do you feel Tom?' you asked.
Teasingly, he leant over, showing his forehead. 'See that? not a sweat. I've got this. Gimme some.'
'What are my dogs names?' you ask.
'Your oldest one is Padfoot, your youngest, the puppy dog is Moony.'
'Correct. Easy one. Ok, next, what is my favourite city?'
Tom's face dropped. 'That got harder so much quicker.'
'What? I thought this was easy.'
'Yea but it's between two. London or New York.'
'Well you've got them. I'd say right now it's New York though. Just because you're there,' you say jokingly.
'We're such a good couple.'
'The best. Lightning round. Favourite food?'
'Pizza.'
'Yes, favourite taylor swift album?'
'Folklore.'
'Easy. What is my favourite bag?'
Tom paused. 'It's a tote, your tote. Is it your waterstones one?'
Sadly, you shake your head. 'To be fair it's a new one i've got, it's my 'I heart new york one.'
Tom groaned. 'Of course it is, how did I not get that? I was literally with you when you brough it.'
'I have it with me today.'
'You do! oh my god, quickly move on before I get annoyed at myself.'
'Oh ok,' you grin down at the question and then pull a face, wondering yourself.
Tom watches, laughs and puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it affectionately. 'Are you alright? what's going on?'
'No, sorry, i'm just thinking about how to word this,' you pause and then, almost as if you weren't aware you were doing it, you hold onto his hand and ask the question. 'What is my favourite thing that you wear?'
Tom's expression matches your puzzled one. 'That I wear?'
'Yes. And I want you to take your time, think about it because you know it. And if you don't get this, we might be over,' you tell him.
Tom's jaw drops and he leans back in his chair, thinking. 'Don't say that!'
'Ok, it was a joke, sorry. But you do know this.'
Tom looks down at himself, but it was a new shirt and there was nothing special about these pants. The shoes were nice but you'd never cared for shoes. He checked his rings. You liked rings and you especially liked his rings but that couldn't have been it. 'Oh!' he almost kicked himself for not getting it sooner. 'Is it my- is it the necklace? he asks, pulling it from under his shirt.
'Yes!' you cheer, throwing the card over your shoulder and reaching over to high five him.
'I've never been so stressed in my life,' he laughed.
'So the necklace-' you start to explain to the camera as tom holds it out proudly, showing every crew and every camera as you laugh and smile at him. Never had you felt so in love. 'The necklace he wears all the time is the initial from the first letter of my name, just like-'
'Just like the Taylor Swift song,' finishes Tom, knowing how much you love it. Even now, you're smiling with teary eyes.
You had not brough it for him, but on your first anniversary Tom surprised you with it. You cried, wept. It was the first time you felt truly seen.
'I think you should sing it,' prompted Tom.
'I'm not singing it!'
'Go on! I love your voice!'
'No!'
'For me?' he asked.
You roll your eyes but don't really sing the song, you more say it: 'I want to wear his initials on a chain around my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me, but obviously, it's you wearing mine so...'
'Thank you for watching our couples quiz!' Tom waves to the camera.
'All in all I think we're couple goals, yea?' you check.
'Oh, absolutely!'
And the show was all done, with you two waving. But the camera's didn't turn off quick enough to catch how Tom held your hand and kissed the inside of your palm.
Yea, absolutely in love.
526 notes · View notes
here2bbtstrash · 1 year
Text
sunday (explicit)
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genre: straight-up smut baybey, i did it y'all i wrote a pwp again
pairing: seokjin x reader
summary: you got your boyfriend exactly what he wanted for his birthday.
word count: 5k
contains: explicit sexual content~*~ say it with me: BRAT 👏 TAMER 👏 SEOKJIN 👏 established relationship, reader is uhhh ��� Extremely bratty lmao, jin takes care of that, BDSM dynamics (mention of safewords and hand signals but neither are used!), reader gets spanked with a belt oop 🤭, fingering/a lil bit of eating it from the back, orgasm denial, big dick jin 😏, praise kink, mouth/throat fucking, a bit of breathplay, begging and apologizing, oh yeah she cries... like.... kind of a lot 🥲 there's a dacryphilia moment in there too (~*~add a little spice~*~), unprotected sex but they're in love it's fine, lots of subspace at the end, use of a vibrator, overstimulation, she comes.... idek how many times, and a smidge of aftercare 🫠 also i promise there's no food play, you'll get why the cake's there at the end ok lmao
A/N: a day late and a dollar short but hey that's my mental health rn 🫡 this was fun!!! always nice to dust off the ol' pwp muscles and frankly i've been itching to write proper BDSM for a bit now. sometimes you just wanna get the shit beat out of you lovingly and that's valid and sexy ya know. anyway feel free to silently skip this one if it's not for you!! and i know i'm gonna get a comment on it so 🙄 i used his korean age on purpose lmao 🙄 yes i can count and yes i know their system is changing~ ANYWAY i sincerely hope you enjoy babes and that you all had a lovely seokjin day 🥺 i loooove y'all !!! 💜
thank you to @haliiimede for beta reading and being my soulmate 🥺
read on AO3!
~*~
The slam of the front door tells you that your plan for today has worked perfectly.
Standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, you adjust a final strap on your bralette, then quickly scramble to pull your clothes back on. You attempt to keep your expression innocent as you slip down the hallway to greet your boyfriend.
Before you can even make it, you hear the unmistakable pop of a wine bottle being uncorked, and you enter the kitchen just in time to see Seokjin leaning up against the counter with a glass of white in hand. He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see you.
“Hi baby,” you say, sweet as can be. “Can I have a glass?”
A muscle works in his jaw as he looks you over, and the expression on his face already has a flame licking in the pit of your stomach.
“That's all you have to say?” he finally answers.
You blink up at him, feigning ignorance. Your heartbeat has started to race behind your ribs, sensing imminent danger— the good kind.
“I haven't heard from you all day today,” he tries again.
You shrug. “I was still sleeping when you left this morning, and then, I don't know. I was doing things. Does it matter?” If Seokjin wasn’t already pissed, you know your last question will get him. You turn away to busy yourself with retrieving a wine glass so he can’t see the smile you’re trying to bite back.
The tone of his voice makes you freeze, glass in hand. “I don't recall saying you could have any.”
Your lower lip juts out automatically, and you do your best to steady your breathing without making it apparent. Even your voice comes out a little shaky. “But we always share.”
The silence in the kitchen feels deafening, punctuated by the soft tap of Seokjin setting his glass on the counter. You mirror him, swallowing hard as he steps in to close the distance between you. It never gets any less exciting to have him tower over you, big and broad-shouldered, tall enough that you have to look up through your lashes to meet his gaze. A dull ache starts to pulse between your legs.
“Do you know what today is?”
You lick your lips and try to speak. “Sunday?”
It’s like you barely get the word out before he’s gripping your jaw with one large hand, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Anticipation buzzes through your body, all the way down to your toes, as he forces your chin up.
“Anything else?” His voice sounds like a warning.
Your mouth pulls into a grin beneath his grasp, one you can’t quite manage to keep innocent. “Oh, Seokjin, is it your birthday? I knew I was forgetting something. Oops.”
“Fucking brat.”
All at once Seokjin locks an arm around your hips, and you let out a shrill squeak as your feet leave the floor entirely when he outright slings you over his shoulder. This is, of course, exactly what you’d hoped for, but you struggle a little in his grip nonetheless. All part of the fun.
You’d left the bedroom door cracked on your way out to greet him, and he takes the opportunity to kick it back open. A shiver runs up your spine at the sight, and then you hit the bed hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.
You push up onto your hands as you sit up, slightly dizzy.
“That hurt, Seokjin,” you whine, but you both know you don’t mean it. You have agreed-upon methods of telling him when he’s really hurting you in a way that doesn’t feel good: safewords, even hand signals for when you’re rendered non-verbal. Anything said that isn’t one of those is just you running your mouth on purpose, winding him up. Like now. “You’re being so dramatic.”
“And you’ve got a fucking attitude today,” he snaps. “Is this really how you want to do this? On my fucking birthday?”
You blink up at him with the same sweet smile. “What if I told you I got you a present?”
This seems to surprise him a little, and he pauses, like he doesn’t quite buy it. “A present, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.” You nod as you get to your feet. “Let me unwrap it for you.”
Taking your time with it, you peel off your sweatshirt and leggings to reveal the lingerie you pulled on as he was coming home. It’s a soft pink set with a floral design, thin straps, and romantic lace, and you happen to think it does wonders for your curves.
“What do you think?”
You can see the hungry gleam in Seokjin's eyes even as he scoffs, feigning disinterest. “Oh, this is my present? A disrespectful brat that I have to teach a lesson? I should rip this shit off.”
“Hey, this was expensive!” you snap, and he arches an eyebrow as if to give you a final chance to behave. It just makes you want to push him that much further.
You step closer, allowing a perfect line of sight to your tits that threaten to spill out of their confinements, and you soften your voice when you speak again. “What, you don’t forgive me, Seokjin?”
The corner of his mouth just barely ticks up. “You know the rules. Forgiveness is earned.”
He reaches a hand down to undo the buckle of his belt, and your nipples are suddenly painfully hard against the lace fabric. You can’t remember the last time he used his belt. Fuck, he’s really mad.
“Bend over.”
You huff a sigh as you drape yourself over the edge of the bed, and his hands are already on your ass. He makes a low noise of appreciation as his fingertips dig into your supple skin, pressing firm enough to make you wince. He's not being gentle, and you don’t want him to be.
Your eyes flutter closed in enjoyment of being manhandled like this, and you get so lost in it that it takes you a second to realize Seokjin has asked you a question. By then it’s already too late.
He gives a warning slap to your ass as he repeats himself. “I said, how old am I?”
You peek over your shoulder, wiggling your ass against the flat of his palm, only for him to smack you hard over your left cheek. You bite back a whimper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“I don't know,” you lie, blinking up at him. “You’re so old now, it’s hard to remember.”
In one swift move, he yanks his belt out from around his waist, and you swallow hard as you watch him fold it over in his hands.
“Then why don’t you fucking count for me.”
The belt cracks down over your ass, and you flinch at the first real rush of pain. It takes you a second to regain focus, your brain still buzzing from the hit, and then his words come back to you.
“One.”
“So you are capable of listening, huh?”
Another hit, equally as hard on the other side, and you grit your teeth.
“Two.”
“Aw, where’d that smart mouth go? Not so chatty now?” Seokjin cracks the belt again, and you can barely get the word three out before four is being delivered just as harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. He's really hitting hard tonight.
“Four,” you gasp, and you hear Seokjin exhale a dark laugh above you.
“Better toughen up, sweetheart. We’ve got a long way to go.” Another hit in the same spot, this one enough to really sting.
“Five.”
“You know, since I'm so old.”
The next blow he delivers is so hard, the word comes out as a cry of pain. “Six!”
You flatten your pelvis down against the sheets, as if in an attempt to hide from the beating, but there’s nowhere to go. The extra pressure makes you feel how hard your clit has started to throb from your punishment. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, your hips jerking reflexively as you moan through seven, eight, nine.
Every muscle in your body seizes taut as you prepare for ten, trying to encourage yourself to breathe through it, though all you can get out right now are shallow gasps for air. I can take this, you tell yourself, I can take this.
But it doesn’t come. You’re pulled so tight you think you might snap, and you manage to lift your head up from your arms to look back at Seokjin.
“There she is,” he says, and the soft tone of his voice in no way influences how hard he brings the belt down over your ass.
“Ten!” you groan, and the sharp bite of pain over your already raw skin nearly brings tears to your eyes. And he’s not even halfway done.
It’s all you can do now to remember what number you’re on, especially as Seokjin continues to allow torturously long pauses between his hits. He'll wait just long enough that your heartbeat starts to slow, teasing the thin length of the belt up the backs of your thighs, sometimes even with a laugh.
But it’s not relief: the waiting keeps every inch of you on edge, all wound up with anticipation of the next dose of pain, so tense you’re not sure you’re breathing.
You’ve hardly choked out fourteen when you flinch at a brush of contact, the warm touch of skin where you were expecting the crack of leather. Letting your forehead drop against the bed, you pant like you’ve just run a marathon as Seokjin's hand moves over your abused flesh, groping and massaging as he did before. You can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours since then, but his touch is grounding, calming, even when his fingers sink into your fresh bruises with enough force to make you whimper.
You can feel the way the seam of your panties sticks to your center now, and you can only imagine that they must be entirely soaked through, your slickness already starting to paint the crux of your thighs. With a soft whine of need, you spread your legs a little wider in search of anything but more pain.
“What do you think?” Seokjin's voice is dark when he speaks, thick with lust. The thought of him straining hard against his pants has you practically drooling on the mattress. You want nothing more than that cock stretching you open right now. “Starting to learn your lesson?”
As much as the rational part of you appreciates the check-in, you can’t ignore the new rush of rebellion that surges up at the question. What, does he think you need him to go easy? Does he think you’re not tough enough, that you can’t take everything he’s willing to give you?
You push up to look over your shoulder at him again, your jaw set firm. “No.”
Anger flashes over his face, but he can’t quite hide his smile. “Then I guess I can stop holding back.”
Shit, he was—? You don’t get the opportunity to finish that thought before the loop of his belt is whizzing through the air, and the impact it makes against your ass hits so hard, you momentarily see stars. “Fuck!”
“That's not a fucking number.”
“Fifteen,” you gasp, dropping limp against the bed like a ragdoll, breathless with relief that you didn’t lose track. “Fifteen.”
“The brat can count,” Seokjin remarks, and then he delivers sixteen just as hard and your whole body spasms from the pain as you choke out the number. “If only you knew how old I was, you might have some idea of how much longer I have to beat your ass.”
Your eyes are really starting to well up now, but you force yourself to keep breathing, to focus on his words. It might be coded to fit the scene, but it’s a clear reminder nonetheless: you’re more than halfway. You can do this.
By twenty, the tears have started to spill down your face, but Seokjin knows you well enough to know the scene doesn’t stop unless you call a safeword. He trusts you to know your own limits, and you do. But fuck, he can really test them sometimes. You’re dying for him to touch you, fuck you, do anything but keep fucking beating you. It’s taking everything in you to keep going, your feet kicking helplessly each time he brings the belt down over your tender backside. He hasn’t lightened the weight of his hits up even in the slightest. If anything, they’re only getting worse.
“Twenty-one,” you breathe. You only have ten hits left, and you’ve already gotten through ten hits twice now. You can do this.
“Twenty-two.” You tell yourself not to fight it.
“Twenty-three.” Just give into the pain.
“Twenty-four.” Submit.
Your shoulders heave with sobs as the twenty-fifth strike finally, finally breaks your last resolve. You press your face into the mattress; you’re crying so hard you can scarcely breathe. Even though your body keeps flinching with the reflexive animal reaction to try and get away from the pain, your mind has fully accepted your punishment, all the fight gone out of you.
It’s like someone else is counting for you now, so much so that you don’t even realize what number Seokjin is on until the words leave your mouth.
“Thirty-one.”
You hear the jingle and thud of the belt hitting the floor, and then his gentle hands are encouraging your legs to spread apart. The brush of his fingers over your aching core is sweet, overwhelming relief from the pain still coursing through your system. You’d think it’d be enough to make you cry, if you weren’t already.
“Good girl,” he says softly, and that small praise alone has you floating straight up to the ceiling.
His hands move quickly to pull your panties down and off, and you work to get your breathing back under control, letting your sobs dissolve into sniffling gulps. You whimper when his palms slip under your hips, encouraging you up onto your knees. Your body shivers all over as you try to hold yourself up, to be good, and then you feel Seokjin slip two fingers into your drenched center.
“Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to rub diligently at the ridges of your front wall, his free hand gripping your ass to spread you open. His touch in both places at once, pressing down on fresh swollen bruises and curling up into the sweetest part of you, it’s so good. It reminds you why you willingly give yourself over to this man, the one you love so much, the only one who can make you feel like this. You’re so turned on from the mix of pleasure and pain, you might be close to blacking out.
The bed creaks as he shifts a little, and then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, and you keen. You bury your sounds in the crook of your elbow as his tongue plunges into you, and he snakes a hand between your legs to rub slow circles over your clit. Your mind is reeling; you can barely manage to speak.
“S-Seokjin,” you gasp. “You’re g-gonna, ngh, gonna make me—”
He pulls off just enough to mutter, “You better fucking ask first.”
You swear he ups the intensity on purpose when his mouth returns to your pussy, as if to drag you that much closer to the edge. His thumb is working so perfectly at your clit, you can feel your thighs starting to shake as you writhe back against him. “Can I— can I please come, Seokjin? Pleaseplease, please?”
“No.”
His voice is firm, unbothered, and paired with the painful loss of his touch all at once. A strangled sob of frustration escapes you as you collapse against the bed, exhausted from holding yourself up and from your denied release.
“Not yet,” Seokjin continues. “Not until you’ve learned to be a little more obedient.”
His strong hand closes over your bicep, and he easily flips you over onto your back, causing you to hiss at the graze of your sore flesh against the sheets. Your lower lip trembles, your eyes threatening tears as you stare up at him, but you stay quiet.
“Be a good girl,” Seokjin says, dragging one finger up the column of your throat. You willingly tip your head back for him as a shiver rolls through you. “Let me fuck this smart mouth, then I’ll make you come as many times as you can handle. Okay?”
When you nod softly, he hauls you up to your feet. “Get on your knees.”
You do as he says, sitting back on your heels and watching as he works his pants and boxers down to free his cock. He’s thick and long, flushed dark and dripping hard. Big enough that you go slightly cross-eyed trying to take him in. Your cunt clenches desperately at his size, at how badly you need all of him inside you, bottoming out into you again and again.
But even moreso, you want to be good.
“Mouth open,” Seokjin instructs, and you comply, letting your tongue loll out for him as he tangles a hand in your hair.
He guides himself between your lips, and your eyes roll back at the weight of him on your tongue, the feeling of your jaw stretching open to fit him. He’s so fucking big, it’s uncomfortable, but you do your best to breathe around him and give into it.
Trying to hold still, hands placed sweetly on your thighs because you know he likes it that way, you blink up at Seokjin as he starts to thrust into your mouth. You can taste the salt of his precum as his length drags along your tongue, and you fight back the urge to gag when the tip of his cock nudges into the back wall of your throat. He groans softly as he rubs himself there, his grip on your hair tightening until the pain stings your scalp. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep yourself from choking.
“Fuck,” he hisses when he pulls out, saliva stringing in thick strands from your mouth to the head of his cock. He squeezes at the base of it, eyes glazed dark with lust, and you take in as much air as you can, the cool rush painful where your throat is sore from the stretch of him.
You sit up taller as if to ask for more.
Seokjin’s gaze meets yours as the hand on his cock guides it back toward you, but he doesn’t slip back into your mouth. His eyes are fixated hungrily on your face as he drags the head of his dick down over your bottom lip, teasing it around your mouth and along your cheeks, clearly enjoying that he can do whatever he wants with you.
Your pulse drums loudly in your ears as you sit there, mouth open, and take it. The whole lower half of your face must be slick with spit and precum now, given how easily he glides across your skin, and then you’re hit with the heavy thud of him smacking his cock once, twice, three times against your flat, willing tongue.
“Are you done being a brat now?” he prompts, and you can feel drool spilling down your chin as you nod, his cock still weighing heavy on your outstretched tongue. He slips it in a little further, just past the ring of your lips.
“Gonna be a good girl for me?”
A soft whine escapes around his girth filling your mouth. You nod again, desperate, and then he hits the back of your throat with enough force to make you gag noisily. Your body shudders beneath him, and you try to keep it together.
“Learned your fucking lesson?”
Tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes as he keeps sliding himself into your mouth, the head of his cock dipping down into the tight clutch of your throat, as far as he can go until your nose is flush with his abdomen. You can’t make another sound, your mouth crammed too full, but you do your best to nod even as you lose the ability to keep breathing.
Seokjin’s thumb brushes over the bulge in your throat, and you know what he wants. Tears slip down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow around him, and he rewards you with an unabashed moan that lights up everything inside you.
“That’s it. You look so good when you cry on my cock,” he rasps, his hand closing over your throat as you swallow again.
You can feel yourself starting to get light headed from lack of oxygen as more tears stream down your face, but the praise spurs you on. You want it too much, it makes you eager to please at any cost, despite the dizzying surge of adrenaline, despite the way your throat is spasming painfully now. You’ll pass out with his cock down your throat, if that’s what it takes.
He pulls out all at once, and the rush of air you heave in is like broken glass against your raw throat. You fall forward, your palms just barely catching you from landing directly onto your face, and you can’t do anything for a moment but breathe in ragged, shaky gasps. Tears are still welling up in your eyes, dripping down onto the carpet beneath you.
Your world tilts as Seokjin easily scoops you up in his arms just to drop you onto the bed, flat on your back. There’s still the dull ache of the bruises he beat into your ass, but it’s like someone’s turned the volume down on it. All your physical sensations seem distant, like they’re happening to someone else, even the dull ache thudding between your legs, a desperate desire to come that was only made worse by being used as your boyfriend’s fucktoy.
Your eyes flutter closed as his hands slip up your body to undo your lacy bralette and peel it off of you, and you don’t fight it.
“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Seokjin's voice pulls you back from the edge, and you fight to open your eyes again. He's hovering over you, fully stripped now, his brow creased slightly with concern. “Stay with me a little bit longer, okay?” His tone is still serious, and you sniff softly as you nod.
He slips a palm encouragingly under your thigh and you do the rest, so out of body that it’s like you weigh nothing at all as you pull your knees up to effectively bend yourself in half for him. He practically growls at the sight of you spread for him so willingly, presenting a cunt swollen with need, painted glossy with arousal.
You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he kneels up on the bed, and then his thick cock is grinding over you, dragged right up your center. The feeling of finally being touched where you need it most has you exhaling a moan of relief.
“Is this what you want?” Seokjin's breath is hot on your neck and chased by the scrape of his teeth, earning another noise of pleasure from you. Your clit throbs as he rolls the head of his dick over it, up and down, slow teasing.
“Yes,” you manage to gasp. Your voice comes out a little broken from your scraped-up throat. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”
“Which do you want more?”
You’re so gone, choking on whimpers and whines, that his hand closes over your throat to make you focus on the rest of his question. The look on his face is so dark, it sends a shiver down your spine.
“My dick, or my forgiveness?”
Tears spring to your eyes immediately as an overwhelming wave of emotions floods through you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind what your answer is, you don’t even have to pause to consider it. As badly as you want, need him to fuck you, the thought of Seokjin discarding you when he’s finished, still upset, not kissing every inch of your skin, not praising you for being so good… you can’t bear it.
“Your forgiveness,” you sob, doing your best to keep breathing despite his hand around your throat. “Please, please, please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just wanna be good, wanna be good for you, I don't need anything else.”
You can see his face soften even through the tears that blur your vision. “There she is,” he murmurs, and then he tips his head down to brush his lips over yours. The warm touch of his mouth is all the reward you could ever ask for, and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip before pulling back.
“Good answer, babygirl.”
Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s fucking the whole of his thick cock into you, and you can only keen as he stretches you wide enough to fit all of him. Your walls are immediately trembling tight to him from how edged close you’ve been all night.
“Thank you,” you moan, your head dropping back against the pillow. A gasp rips through you as he bottoms out, your spine arching when the crown of his cock presses firmly on your cervix. “Thank you, oh fuck.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin purrs, his mouth against your collarbone. You think he might be sucking a mark into your skin, but it’s already getting hard to tell what’s happening. “You always take it so well after I beat the brat out of you. Let go now, baby. You’ve earned it.”
You’re grateful for the permission, because you’re not sure you could stay tethered any longer if you tried. Not when he’s splitting you open, thrusting hard and deep because he knows you can take it, with a cock fat enough to light up every sweet spot in you at once. Your eyes roll back as you start to float, so out of it that you barely even notice a faint buzzing sound until you realize Seokjin is pressing your vibrator down against your swollen, aching clit.
Fuck, when did he even grab it off the nightstand?
You’re vaguely aware of someone moaning, but it doesn’t even feel like you. You’ve given up entirely to it now, a sweet surrender to this all-encompassing pleasure. It’s so good, too good, it slips you out of your mind and body alike, like he’s fucking your brain right out of your skull.
“That’s it, come on my cock,” Seokjin groans, and fuck, you are, you’re coming hard enough to drench his cock with every pulse of your needy cunt. “Such a good girl.”
He doesn't even pull the toy off to give you a moment of recovery, just keeps it nestled between your folds as he pounds into you. Your hips shudder violently as you coast out of your first climax and straight into another one.
It all starts to blur together now, wave after wave of orgasm washing over you until you’re drowning in it. You come and come and come until it feels like you’re melting into the bed, pinned through by this massive cock and the endless mind-numbing buzz on your clit. You can distantly tell that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the sheets beneath you, that your thighs and even the muscles of your ass are shaking from overstimulation.
“S-S-Seokjin.” It takes you three tries to get his name out, and you’re still not really sure if you said it until the toy switches off. The humming sensation is still reverberating through your body even in the absence of it, enough to make you tremble all over as he picks up the pace.
“Gonna fucking— fill you up,” Seokjin grunts, voice thick with effort, and then his cock twitches at the very back of you, buried deep as it can go, pulsing heavy as he paints you with rope after rope of his release. 
You’re still not here, not really, not when he pulls out with a heavy sigh, when the cum starts to drool down your legs, when he drops onto the mattress beside you and pulls you into him. It comes back to you in pieces: you’re shivering all over, breathing hard, your face is wet— fuck, when were you crying?
It takes you several moments to realize Seokjin is murmuring in your ear, that his fingers are carding through your hair, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Just breathe, baby. Did so well, it’s over now. You’re safe.”
As the post-scene comedown settles into your bones, you bury your face into his shoulder, trying to breathe through the myriad of emotions and chemicals flooding your system. He pulls the blanket up over your chest, and the warmth of it and his body help to gently bring you down from the high.
You don’t know how long you lay like that until you finally manage to squeak out a question. “Y-you’re not really mad, right?”
Seokjin laughs gently as he presses a kiss to your hairline. “No, baby. I know you didn’t really forget. The birthday cake in the fridge kinda gave it away.”
The words take a second to hit you, and then a dazed giggle bubbles up in your chest. It’s like you’re floating as you start to laugh, your face still pressed into Seokjin’s skin, and you can feel the rumble of him laughing too. It didn’t even occur to you that he would’ve seen the fucking cake when he grabbed himself a bottle of wine.
“Oh,” is all you can think to say, and you keep giggling as his lips move over the line of your jaw, trailing kisses.
“You’re cute when you’re trying to get punished,” he says softly. “It's part of why I love you. You’re my perfect little brat. And this was the perfect gift, seriously.”
A warm glow blooms in your chest at the praise, and you sigh happily as you curl up against his side. “Can we eat cake in bed?”
Seokjin leans down to brush his mouth over yours, sweetly adoring. “Anything you want.”
3K notes · View notes
arlerts-angel · 3 months
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having so many hard thoughts abt eren rn. how dominant he would be, getting off on making u nervous and embarrassed. his long hair hanging in ur face as he hovers above u... i feel like he'd love fingering u, the feeling of ur warm, wet pussy clenching around his fingers. and fuck, just knowing that he was making u feel so good would egg him on so quickly.
i know u dont write much eren, and thats okay!! please disregard this if it doesnt resonate with you. i just trust ur interpretation of the characters since u have such a knack for it. but if it does id love to hear ur thoughts. im just a whore for eren jaeger what can i say 🤤
eren jaeger x fem!reader, NSFW 🤍 18+ MDNI
a/n: oop i don't usually write characters with 'daddy' as a title but i can so see eren calling himself that so that's what i wrote SORRY HNSHKSHK I HOPE YOU LIKE IT STILL 😰
lots of dirty talk | fingering | pet names: baby, pretty, princess, dirty girl | eren calls himself daddy
taglist: @ringsofsaturnnnn @i-literally-cant-with-this @milky-aeons
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NONNIE !!! you are so right
eren absolutely loves making you flustered and squirmy; he thinks you're just so cute when you're nervous! not only that, but i think it fuels his ego just a smidge 🤭
and mmm, i agree that one of his favorite things in the world to do to you is finger your desperate little pussy while he hovers above you. he has a perfect view of your pretty face while he makes you cum on his fingers :(
oh, some food for thought! eren would absolutely moan with you and talk you through while he fingers you :(
he sucks air in through his gritted teeth while he fingers you and rubs your clit, going on about "aw, feels so good doesn't it baby? i know it does. y'look so pretty... so fuckin pretty baby. pussy's so wet for me baby, you like when i finger you huh? yeahhh, right there... just like that. doing so good for me, princess."
oh and when you buck your hips against him while he fingers you?
"oh you like that, don't you? dirty girl. so desperate to cum. tell daddy how good he makes you feel. let me hear it, baby. wanna hear those pretty moans."
he just loves to pleasure you in general ! fingering, eating you out, fucking you senseless, anything that makes you cum he loves !
i think he'd be heavy on eye contact, but sometimes the eye contact is too much so you try to hide your face or close your eyes but he hits you with the "look at me baby. wanna look into those pretty eyes when you cum for me"
HEAR ME OUT. HE KISSES YOUR FOREHEAD WHILE YOU CUM. 😵‍💫😍
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joelsgreys · 16 days
Text
more hearts than mine
Frankie Morales x Female Reader
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summary: Frankie promises you he’s not going anywhere.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. no physical description of reader, no mention of her age, reader has both of her parents, reader has a little sister (15 and unnamed), reader has a close relationship with her family (cannot say i am writing this from experience oop), reader is from a small, unnamed town somewhere in the midwest (state not specified), established relationship, mention of ex-boyfriend, mentions of alcohol consumption, reassurance, fluff, smutty themes towards the end but no smut.
word count: 2k
a/n: this was not planned and very spur of the moment. i think i needed a palette cleanse from writing so much joel. it’s my first time writing for frankie but i like the way it turned out. <3 i it’s 3 am, i wrote this in an hour and it is not proofread, so please excuse any errors. this is based on a song called more hearts than mine by ingrid andress.
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“It’s late,” you worry. “Where could they be?”
Amused, your mother watches you anxiously pace back and forth in front of the dining room table. “My darling, can you please relax? They probably hit some traffic on their way back home from the lake. I bet you anything those two will be walking through the front door any second now,” she assures you. At that precise moment, her cell phone vibrates on the table, the loud buzzing noise garnering her attention. She picks it up and raises her eyebrows in complete surprise. “Oh. Or maybe not. Your father just texted me and said they’re stopping for a couple of drinks at the bar. He says not to wait up for them.”
Halting mid pace, you whirl around and stare at her. 
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope.” She shows you the text. “See?”
“Jesus,” you mutter. Shaking your head, you drop down into the chair across from hers.
“That’s a pretty good sign. Don’t you think so, honey?”
It is because your father taking your boyfriend out on a fishing trip and then taking him to his favorite bar for drinks afterwards means that their time alone together has gone well. But, even though your father had clearly taken a liking to him, he won’t ever show it. Sure, he’ll buy him dinner and he’ll buy him drinks, he’ll check his tires and take a look underneath the hood of his pickup truck to make sure everything looks good, but he’ll do it with a scowl on his face and a standoffish attitude.
“He hates me, baby. Your old man hates me,” Frankie declared after his first dinner with your family. You had both arrived in your hometown that same evening after a gruelling, sixteen hour drive to the midwest. Despite being exhausted from the trip, he’d put his best foot forward for them—he’d charmed your mother and your little sister, had them both wrapped around his finger by the time dessert had been served. But your father, oh he had been much harder for him to win over. “He barely said two words to me all night.”
“My dad doesn’t hate you,” you swore to him, rubbing a soft, soothing circle into his broad back. “Do you want to know how I know that?”
“How?”
“Because he poured you a drink.”
He’d snorted. “What, and that means he likes me?”
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you joked with a giggle. “It’s still too early to tell if he likes you. But one thing is for sure, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t break out a bottle of whiskey for someone he hates, Frankie.”
Sighing, you lift your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest.
Poor Frankie. He’s probably spent the better part of the whole day just trying to figure him out.
“I like him,” your mother says after a minute. “I like him a lot.”
“What a coincidence,” you grin. “I like him a lot too.”
She laughs. “I’m serious! He’s incredible, darling. He is so handsome. He’s sweet. Seems like he’s got a really good head on his shoulders—”
“Are we talking about Francisco?” Your sister walks into the dining room with can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and her cell phone in the other.
“As a matter of fact, we are.” Your mother smiles. “Isn’t he great?”
“He’s kinda perfect, actually.” She takes a casual sip of her soda and raises an eyebrow at you. “I have to admit though, I’m afraid to get attached to Frankie. You know, after what happened with Jake—”
You wince at the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name.
Your mother hisses her name, angrily.
“I’m just saying! When he broke up with you, it’s like he broke up with all of us. It sucked.” She shrugs, adding, “I mean, even dad was sad about it for months. Wasn’t he, mom?”
“Don’t you have a paper to write?” Your mother glares at her.
Your sister starts towards the staircase, but stops and glances over her shoulder. “I like Frankie,” she tells you, smiling wryly. “And I really hope he sticks around.” With that, she disappears upstairs.
Sighing heavily, your mom turns to you. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only fifteen, she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t understand what happened—”
Pushing away from the table, you stand up. 
“I’m going to take a walk,” you murmur. “I need some fresh air.”
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“Hermosa?”
You stir at the sound of Frankie’s voice.
“Baby. Hey. Wake up.”
“Mm?” you mumble sleepily. “Frankie, what are—ow!”
You groan when he switches on the lamp on the beside table. Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling softly. The twin sized mattress squeaks, dipping as he somehow squeezes himself beside you on your childhood bed. He’s staying in the guest room down the hallway—you parents, who were incredibly old school, had insisted the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms during your stay. Draping his arm around you, he leans down and nuzzles into the side of your face. Even with your nose buried in your pillow, you pick up the scent of sunscreen mingled with beer. “Just wanted to tell you I’m back home.”
Lifting your head, you blink furiously until your blurred vision stabilizes.
“What—what time is it?”
“Eleven.” Frankie’s cheeks and nose are red, sunburned from having been out on your dad’s boat all afternoon. You’re willing to bet he’d forgotten to put the sunscreen on his face. Even though you’d warned him a hundred times not to forget.
“What?” You sit up, prompting him to do the same. “It’s eleven and you only now just got back?”
“Your old man took me to Gordon’s,” Frankie explains, referring to one of the only few bars your small town had to offer. It was the place where you would meet with your old high school friends to catch up with each other whenever you were home visiting. At some point this week, you would be sitting in a booth at that old bar with them, introducing Frankie, and squirming when they began to tell him embarrassing stories of all those crazy nights from your senior year. “We went in with plans to have a couple beers before coming home, but then we ran into some of his buddies there. He introduced me, they bought us more drinks, and we played a game of pool. Your dad whooped my ass, of course.”
“How did fishing go?”
“Great. Y’know, once he stopped looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard.”
You let out an amused huff. “He would never.”
“I don’t know. That man is pretty hard to read.” Frankie reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “One minute we’d be talking, shooting the shit while we waited for the fish to bite, and the next he would look at me like he was seriously thinking about pushing me off his boat and into the water.” He squeezes your hand, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. “I spent all goddamn day with him and I still can’t tell if he likes me yet or not.”
Lifting his hand, you press a tender kiss to the back of it, a sweet token of affection.
“He likes you, Frankie,” you murmur against his skin. “I know it. My whole family likes you. Except my mom—”
He stiffens. “What?”
“She loves you.”
Frankie turns to you. Despite your smile, he can see the hint of concern in your eyes. “Baby, what’s the matter?”
You hesitate.
After what your sister had said earlier that evening, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake and brought him home too soon. You and Frankie had been together for about six months now, and besides having a drawer of your things at his place for when you stayed overnight, you two hadn’t really sat down to talk about what the next step in your relationship would be—you and Frankie hadn’t discussed the possibility of a future together. Truth be told, you had never felt the need to question him about where this was heading. You’d been perfectly content in allowing things to unfold between you without putting any kind of pressure on yourself, or on him. At least, up until now, you had been content.
You’d been silly to think bringing Frankie home to meet your family wouldn’t be all that big of a deal, that it wouldn’t make you consider what came next. But you had forgotten how easily your mother falls in love, how quickly your little sister can form an attachment, and how your father, despite being rough around the edges, feels every heartache you go through as if it’s his own.
You think back to when your previous relationship went down in flames, you remember the helpless look on your father’s face whenever he would see you crying. “I never liked him,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey over ice. But that had been a lie. He’d seen him as the son he never had. He lost something, too. Your whole family had to heal from that loss along with you.
Part of you is afraid that it could happen again.
“Amor?”
Frankie’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
You glance down at your hand in his. “Frankie, the last thing I want to do is scare you off,” you start to say, a nervous edge to your tone. “Or put any kind of pressure on you to give me anything more than what you have already given me. But now that you’ve met my family, I can’t help but worry a little bit.”
He frowns. “What are you worried about?”
Sighing, you confess, “My last relationship—it didn’t end very well, Frankie. My family loved him, adored him the way I can see they’re already starting to adore you. When he broke up with me, he broke more hearts than just mine.” You force yourself to look up, and meet his gaze with a wistful smile. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s scared it’ll happen again.”
Frankie’s dark brown eyes soften. “Oh baby, there’s no need to be scared. That’s never gonna happen.”
“How can you be so sure it’ll never happen?”
“Easy, because I love you. And I know you love me.” He reaches over with his free hand and he cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your cheekbone. “I’m in this for the long haul. I wouldn’t have driven sixteen hours across the country with you to come meet your family if I wasn’t. I’m serious about you—I’m serious about us, baby.”
Frankie leans in, gently pressing his mouth to yours in a chaste, but sweet kiss.
“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he mumbles against your lips.
“What do you see?”
“Mi futuro,” he tells you. “I see my future.”
Warmth blossoms in your chest. “You do?”
“I do. Believe me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and so is your family,” Frankie grins. “Your dad is gonna have plenty of opportunities to contemplate throwing me off his boat and into the lake.”
You giggle as he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your neck. “Frankie,” you say his name warningly as he pushes you onto your back. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he says innocently, positioning himself on top of you. He plants his hands on either side of your head and dips his head, nipping lightly at the tender flesh over your pulse point. “How thin are these walls?”
“Francisco Morales, no, you are not fucking me in my parent’s house, not in my childhood bedroom—”
His bulge brushes against your thigh and you gasp.
“Guess I’ll head back to the guest room, then,” Frankie murmurs, feathering one last kiss onto your neck.
He starts to climb off of you and your hands shoot out, curling around fistfuls of his shirt to stop him.
“I can be quiet,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. You take one of his hands and guide it underneath the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing to the apex of your thighs. “Can you?”
“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, running a finger along the damp cotton of your panties. He slips it beneath the fabric, his blood rushing south when he meets your slick folds. “God, I fucking hope so, or else I’ll actually end up at the bottom of that fucking lake.”
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divider credit to @saradika 🤍
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oddinary4bts · 8 months
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When the End Comes | Masterpost (jjk)
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☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
☆status: completed
☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, every chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut, fluff
☆total word count: 77.9k
☆a/n: this one is for the anon that suggested a breakup sequel in a character ask, you really inspired me to write this whole thing and I'll forever be thankful for you <3
☆Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this whole thing, you are amazing!!! <3 everyone go check her blog out, she has some amazing writing too!!
☆Thank you to @jessikahathaway too!! Your support as I wrote this story meant everything and you really helped me advancing it <3
☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!
☆Add yourself to the taglist here! (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes)
☆☆☆☆☆
But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes
When the End Comes, Andrew Belle
☆☆☆☆☆
➳Teaser
➳Chapter one: when you break up (9.4k)
Thank you for the years. I had a lot of fun with you.
➳Chapter two: when you try to live apart (8.7k)
Why? Why did she do this?
➳Chapter three: when a wedding forces you close again (17.6k oop)
Ask me again tomorrow. Maybe I'll hate you then.
➳Chapter four: when you try again (14.2k)
Let's try. For real. So no more apologies.
➳Chapter five: when the end comes (15.8k)
You never said yes when I asked you to marry me.
➳Epilogue: the wedding (12.1k)
The only thing is, we already got married.
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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cheolhub · 1 year
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SOFTIE — CHOI SOOBIN ࿐
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summary. soobin can’t be mean to you no matter how hard he tries.
wc. 1.87k (oops)
warnings. super soft dom!soob, brief mention of spankings, lots of teasing, heavy praise, heavy use of pet names (princess, baby, good girl), unprotected s3x, creamp!e, slight (?) size kink (it’s soobin…), lots and lots of (sloppy) kissing :,) — MINORS DNI 18+
note. this was supposed to be 500 words lol… BASED ON A REQUEST !!! idk if this is any good, i wrote it at 2am lololol, ur feedback and likes/reblogs are really appreciated !!! mwah ily all (IF U SAW ME REPOST THIS 7 TIMES, NO U DIDNT)
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he tried. he really did. he tried to be the mean boyfriend who knew how to punish and ravish you like an animal. truly, from the bottom of his heart, he did try. 
but then you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder and he saw your face. that pretty little pout and those fucking tears and he slowly felt the facade fade. he wants so badly to be a big, bad, mean dom, but the grip you have on him makes it hard. really hard. it makes his cock really, really hard, too.
in all honesty, soobin gets off on your pleasure. it makes his brain fog when you moan out his name so sweet and it makes his stomach churn when you beg for more, “please, ‘binnie! just a lil faster—right there!” it makes his orgasm hit so hard when you cum all over him, clamping around him like a vice. 
it’s all the reason why he can’t lay another smack on the flesh of your ass. he can see the substantial handprints he’s left on both cheeks and he just can’t bear to see you like this. 
you turn your head to look at him again, tears staining your face and whisper, “‘binnie,” you can barely whimper out. “‘s okay, i-i can take it, i’ve been bad.” 
you’re gonna be the death of him, he decides. he shakes his head softly, rolling you onto your back. he looks at you in awe. like he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you– his pretty little gem. his plush lips press against your teary face. he wants to cover every inch of you in kisses and you can’t withstand without letting out a giggle due to his sudden change in behavior.
and to him, it sounds so pretty, much like the sound of music– he much rather prefers it over the sound of your pained screams and cries. 
“‘m sorry,” he murmurs once his lips finally inch towards your lips. “didn’t mean to hurt you,”
you hum softly, basking in the sweet feeling of his lips. “soobin, you didn’t, promise,” your lips stretch into a wide smile and your eyes flutter closed. “i’m the one who should apologize… didn’t mean to make you mad, ‘m sorry, baby,”
he melts at the familiar pet name, smiling to himself. his lips finally find yours, slotting into one another and you both sigh. it’s sweet and innocent and full of love. well, it was at first.
with every minute that passes while he’s hovering over your body, the deeper and more eager the kiss gets. before he can fully comprehend, you’re tangling your fingers into his beautiful, blonde locks, tugging at them urgently. 
“hey, soobin?” you pant against his lips. you don’t wait for his response, hotly asking, “can we still…?”
he pulls back from you, looking at you with a tiny grin, “you want it?”
“mhm,” you nod, pussy growing wetter and soaking your panties at the sight of his already-swollen lips and disheveled hair.
“hmm, can you ask me nicely?” you know he’s teasing, but you still whine nonetheless.
you frown, begging in that voice he loves so much, “can you please fuck me, ‘binnie? wanna be good and take it all.” 
he groans as his mind reels, “ah… you’re so cute.” he sits up and discards the clothes that separates the two of you, nearly moaning when he notices your arousal dripping for your pretty, pretty cunt. “‘n so wet for me.”
“all for you,” you tell him breathily. 
“good girl.” he praises and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body. you arch your back a bit and soobin giggles at the satisfying reaction. “that’s right. my good girl, always so good for me, aren’t you?”
his words have your eyes threatening to roll back as you slowly lose your mind. “fuck, baby, please… can’t take it, n-need your cock,” you whimper as you nod mindlessly at his question. “please lemme have it… ‘m gonna go crazy.”
soobin knows why he prefers this– prefers rewarding you rather than shoving your head into a pillow and fucking you from behind like a punishment. he loves watching you unravel for him. his sweet, shy girl begging for his cock. begging him to fuck you and make you feel good. he doesn’t like being mean, doesn’t like not letting you talk, doesn’t like to punish you for something as silly as being desprate for him while he’s busy.  
his breath hitches. “tell me what to do, princess.” he whispers, hand grabbing his length, stroking up and down. 
you watch him with wide eyes, envious of his hand. “p-put it in…” you say, meekly– as if you’ve never asked for his cock before. (you have about a hundred times now, but the shyness never really goes away.)
“put what in?” he teases once more, but he can tell you’re on the verge of breaking down, so he knows to tone it down. 
“your… your cock, put it in me. please…” you plead, voice cracking.
soobin loves you, every part of you. he loves your personality, your sensitive body, and he loves how needy you get. he’s not one to think with his cock, but your voice just does it for him. the way there’s so much need and desperation laced in your pleads and begs make him feel alive. it makes him feel beyond lucky that he’s the only one who gets to have you like this. 
which is another reason why he can’t be mean. you deserve the princess treatment. yeah, he teases you a bit, but that’s only because he knows you love it. he would bend and break for you– he loves doing whatever you want him to do. 
so when he pushes the bulbous head of his cock into your weeping cunt, he can’t resist the loud moan that erupts in his throat. you’re quick to sob out his name and clamp around him at the not-so-sudden invasion. he pushes himself inside you more and more til he’s nestled deep in your cunt. 
you can feel the slightly painful stretch send shockwaves through your body and you hate to admit that you like the pain, but you can’t help it. the delicious and addictive stretch of the cock you know and love makes you delirious. that’s why you give him the cue to move as soon as he bottoms out. 
“so full,” you mumble. “move, please, wan’ you to fuck me.”
he raises an eyebrow as if he’s asking if you’re sure and you nod incessantly. the anticipation has your stomach in knots, hands moving to grip at his broad shoulders. 
soobin does an experimental thrust for safety measures and when he hears your moan of pleasure and a gush of sticky arousal coating his dick, he knows you mean it. 
he takes your waist in his hands, squeezing gently as he begins to move his hips. he starts off slow but with every thrust, his pace gets more harsh, more precise until he has you right where he wants you. or maybe right where you want him. 
“o-oh!” you gasp when his tip hits all the sensitive spots inside of you. he’s so big that he doesn’t even have to try to make you feel good and the thought of it has your toes curling. you can’t even begin to imagine what it looks like when his hips meet your pelvis– your messy cunt taking in his fat cock, swallowing him whole. the idea makes you tighten around him once more, crying out, “ah! fuck, b-baby! please!”
“yeah, princess?” he moans breathily and his speed doesn’t falter. if anything, you feel like he’s fucking you harder. faster. deeper. “what is it? what do you need?”
your body feels hot, like you’re burning red and close to exploding. you can feel his tip now kissing your cervix, and you let out a throaty moan, nails digging into his shoulders. you pull him into you, “k-kiss me please.” you whine.
soobin twitches inside you, hips stuttering a bit, but he obliges (obviously) pressing his lips to yours once more for a sloppy kiss. you both moan into each other's mouths. it’s needy, hungry, amateurish– but you’re both careless. his tongue is in your mouth, and you love it but he thinks he loves it more. 
you’re so in love with how the speed of his thrusts increase. the tell-tale signs that he’s growing desperate to make you feel good and make you cum just so he can fill you up. 
the only sounds that can be heard in your shared room now are the ones of your skin meeting, the smacking of your lips and the high-pitched moans and whines coming from you and soobin (though, his moans are deeper and hotter). 
you break from the kiss to warn him, “‘bin-binnie… ‘m gonna cum,” you nearly sob, body heaving under him, both out of breath from the kiss and because the tightrope in your tummy is close to completely unraveling. 
“go on and do it for me, angel.” he whispers, putting his lips back on yours.
your eyes roll at that as your back arches off the once crisp white sheets of your bed. you moan loudly into his mouth before your body completely convulses under his. you clench around him and your pussy tries to push him out, but his cock keeps working its way back into you, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.
soobin is a mess on top of a mess. he’s trying to keep it together as your cum gushes all over his dick, but it’s so hard (like him). his thrusts are becoming uncoordinated and thoughtless as he fucks you with haste. 
“m-my good fucking girl,” he grunts, parting from your lips to hear your cute whines and shuddered breaths as you come down from your euphoric state. “god, i’m gonna cum, baby.”
you let out a cracked moan at his affirmation, “p-please… in me,” you pant again, clenching around him weakly at the familiar idea of feeling his cum. “oh, soobin, please cum inside me.”
there you go again with your pleads and your angelic voice. you make him crazy and he knows there isn’t a single thing in the world he wouldn’t do for you. when you ask beg him to cum, he does so in an instant. his hips press against your pelvis and he stills completely. his cock twitches in your pulsing cunt and he shoots ribbons of warm seed inside of you. 
he moans loudly when he releases, your name mixed with a string of swears and incoherent words. you fight the urge to smile lazily as you watch him in all of his contorted glory, eyelids heavy out of exhaustion– he’s so fucking beautiful. 
you hum in content at his warmth inside of you and as soon as he moves to pull out, you wrap your legs around him tightly. 
“stay with me just like this,” you murmur, arms wrapping around his neck to give him a bear hug. 
he smiles, head nuzzling into your neck as he presses soft pecks to the skin. “whatever you want, princess.” he whispers. 
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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Okay, since you’re rereading the books and your up for this request, can I request headcanons with the same hades reader you wrote earlier where she meets Nico di angolo when he arrives to camp and from the moment they met, they hit it of instantly and Nico clings to the reader his entire time there, and even hangs out with Luke cause Luke is the readers bf?
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This was long as shit as I got carried away…oops. Not so much on Luke and Nico spending time together but more so reader and Luke talking about Nico.
The moment Nico was brought to camp, a wide eyed boy who was so full of awe and wonder and excitement, you just knew how special he was and you couldn’t help but feel a familial sense when it came to the boy.
Almost as if you knew him your entire life when in reality this was your first ever meeting the boy, but something deep down told you that you would do anything to keep this boy safe and happy for as long as possible before it would be taken away from him; after all life as a Demi-god wasn’t all glory and valour and you all had to learn that rather ruthless lesson one way or another…oftentimes prematurely.
Then again, you chalked this feeling down to you being protective towards the younger Demi-gods that entered camp but this feeling was a lot stronger then that, a hell of a lot in the sense that a older sibling would fret over their younger siblings…but Nico wasn’t your sibling…well not that you were aware of seeing as he was still unclaimed but you guessed being a child of the big three had made you envious of what children of other gods had; family. You were alone and have been alone for quite a while…
Luke, your beloved boyfriend, was able to fill that void for a while, but sooner or later the realisation of just how lonesome you have been would come to consume your every thought.
Mythomagic. You hadn’t heard of that game for quite some time but you had a deck of Mythomagic cards locked within a box, underneath one of the floorboards inside your windowless cabin. Why? They had become so severely damaged and worn with time that you were scared that if you were to pick one up, it would crumple to dust within your palm. Plus it was a sentimental gift from your mother before she…never mind.
The memory was still too painful for you to recollect.
So when you saw Nico fiddling with a Dionysus card -the weakest card in the card game- between his fingers out of nervous habit, you almost didn’t recognise yourself speaking until Nico’s dark eyes looked directly at you with excitement.
‘A Dionysus card, haven’t met anyone who played Mythomagic that genuinely liked that card, you like Mythomagic kid?’ You had asked.
‘Do you?!’ Nico exclaimed as his smile matched his dark obsidian eyes in how brightly they shined.
‘Does Hades have 4000 attack power, 5000 if the opponent attacks first?’ You quickly corrected your self as Nico moved to sit next to you under the tree. ‘Who’s your favourite?’ You added, wanting the lad to feel at ease with you despite what everyone else might’ve told him about you in terms of unapproachableness.
‘Dionysus obviously!’ Nico replied, showing you his card as if to emphasise his point. ‘People think he’s not all that good but I think his powers are pretty cool and to find out that he’s real?! Even cooler!’ He adds on as he looks down at the card as if he was debating whether or not he was going to ask Mr D to sign it. However if Nico was the type of player that you assumed him to be, he wouldn’t dare tempt the idea. ‘Who’s yours?’
‘Hades.’ You said point blankly before continuing, ‘and it’s not because he’s my father.’
‘Hades is your father?!’ - Nico near enough shouted to ear you both the eyes of a couple of campers but you shot them a deadpan glare and they were quick to go back to whatever it was that they were doing beforehand. You softened your face as you looked back at Nico and answered his question. ‘Yeah, he is. He’s not as bad as people make him out to be, he doesn’t get in other people’s business like some gods and goddesses, considering he’s got his own dealings that take presidency but he’s more accommodating then most seeing as I’ve visited him on multiple occasions.’ You finished, shrugging your shoulders, you didn’t want to add on the fact that he had even gifted you Dvir, a hellhound, just yet. In due time you would but, some people would consider that too much.
‘Wow, you’re so cool.’ Right then and there you decided that you would have Nico’s back no matter what, for he was the only one besides Luke that didn’t fear you for your father and by god was it the most reliving thing ever!
You became someone Nico felt comfortable being his true self with, and would even try to sneak into the Hades cabin whenever he needed you to give him comfort and reassure him that you wouldn’t leave him for the Hunters Of Artemis like Bianca did; despite it being against the rules and all but it’s not like you didn’t do the exact same thing with Luke whenever you needed his presence to sooth and put your mind at ease.
He even tried to sit next to you during dinner time at the pavilion, another camp rule he had broken in order to be by your side, but no one dared to speak up upon it and instead bite their tongues, seeing as you and Luke were equally challenging anyone to speak about this to Mr D or Chiron but, nobody dared to do so. Meanwhile Nico was completely obvious to it all and was showing you all of his Mythomagic figures, Mythomagic expansion packs and bestowing every last drop of his knowledge of the card game onto you, all the while you were storing it within your own head as though it was something you were going to have to use later on.
No matter where you went, Nico wasn’t far behind following you like a lost puppy. Needless to say that whenever anyone saw Nico on his own, they knew better then to try anything for you were often lurking within the shadows nearby, watching over the boy with such a fierce protectiveness whilst giving him his freedom to better aquatint himself with camp. When it came to Nico, it seemed as though you became a complete different person, you didn’t know why but all you knew was that you weren’t going to let anything harm Nico while you were able to do something about it.
‘Doesn’t it bother you? Having him cling onto you all the time?’ One brave camper asked once and in all honesty? You didn’t care that he clung to you do suffocatingly. If anything you were glad that he choice you to be the one he relies on for anything and everything, it made you feel an whole assortment of things, the main one being happy knowing that someone openly sought you out because they viewed you as someone who’s opinions are worth listening and taking head to.
Nico felt safer with you than he ever did elsewhere, which was saying something considering he was within a camp built to protect people like him but he felt his most safest with you; Someone whom he quickly began to form an attachment towards and would oftentimes find himself clinging to your side like a second shadow. So much so that Luke would playfully tease you about it whenever he saw you both.
When in actuality Luke loved the fact that Nico was so attached to you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that even with him by your side you still felt like you were alone, and could only hope that Nico would be the one to fill in that void within your heart completely. He was also happy for Nico for having you to fall back on because there was no one in camp that he would have to watch his back then yourself.
‘He’s asleep.’ You mused, looking at Nico, who fell asleep against Luke’s shoulder and was snoring softly.
‘He’s a good kid.’ Luke replied, ruffling Nico’s dark hair as a smile appeared on the younger boys face as he readjusted himself before falling still. Still like the dead Luke once playfully commented.
‘He really is.’ You said aloud, grasping Nico’s hand upon watching it reach out for you, squeezing it in hopes of showing him that you were with him. Luke pressed a kiss to your forehead as he saw the variety of emotions that flashed through your eyes as you kept watch over the sleeping boy. ‘You’re a good influence on him babe, don’t doubt yourself, the boy practically idolises you.’ He tried reassuring you but still the thoughts wouldn’t let up.
‘What if there’ll be a time where I can’t reach him, where I can’t save him from himself and he’ll resent me for it.’ You asked, needing Luke’s guidance more than ever in your time of uncertainty. Luke pondered this for a bit before finally responding. ‘There won’t be a time where Nico would ever resent you and even if that did ever happen, I just know that he would hate himself even more for pushing the one person who had his back and cared for him like their own flesh and blood.’ He then squeezed your thigh reassuringly. ‘That and you’d dive into the depths of the labyrinth to bring him back no matter what and he knows that better than anybody that you’d endanger yourself just to save him, even from himself.’
He was right. You knew he was right. You would wholeheartedly throw yourself into harms way if it meant Nico came out unscathed and that terrified you and Luke could see this. ‘So don’t doubt yourself because if you doubt yourself then Nico will doubt himself by extension. For if the person he admires doubts themself then he would feel like he should too.’ Luke then rests his forehead against yours, his eyes staring deeply into yours. ‘I know you can guide him down the right path, be the kind of person you needed when you were in his situation, be the person you know you’d feel safe with, be his protector because I know you can. He needs you.’ He finished.
You looked down at the peacefully sleeping Nico before looking back up at Luke with a look of determination. ‘I promise to protect him and help him in whatever he may need.’
Like smirks. ‘That’s my baby.’
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