🏐 "𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑶𝑵 / 𝑲𝑯𝑨𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑨," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ nsfw breeding you like a rabbit ꗃ .. smut mdni ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ mina says reupload from toruzip ⁀ ˳ ⟡
Oh, how filthy he got in bed.
From the golden boy of Okhema city, the savior of Amphoreus, smiling and waving to citizens all around, to one of the meanest men in bed.
His hips never stop moving when he’s finally popped his dick inside your tight, wet cunt. He’s not shy about it either, whining and moaning loudly against the wet sounds of his hips slapping against your plump ass. His hands tightly holding onto your hips, making sure you can’t run away.
“F-fuckkkk.. g-gonna breed y-you.. g’nna make you all plump and round with my babies,” he’d hiccup and whisper against your sweat slicked skin. While you would whine and try to pry him off, telling him it had already been an hour since you two had begun. His balls would still be heavy with cum, slapping against your skin with a lewd ‘plap! plap! plap!’. His breathless chuckles would fill the air as his hips wouldn’t stop— in fact, he would start thrusting deeper and more purposefully.
The bed would shake, as you swore you could hear the faint cracks of the wooden bed frame giving way. There was no true night in Amphoreus, so you could still hear the faint sounds of city life going on just past the walls of your little home. “..p-phainon! Y-you’re gonna break the bed again..!” You’d cry and moan, nails digging into his back and leaving red hot marks.
Phainon’s hips wouldn’t stop, oh no.
He’d only get filthier, more lewd and needy. Whimpering into the crook of your neck, “p-please… just l-let me.. ngh— shit.. g’nna c-cum again…” he’d groan, and before you could even complain to him— his hips would be erratically thrusting into your sloppy pussy. Previous white sticky seed already oozing out around his thrusting cock, as he would shudder and cum inside you. Hot thick ropes of his seed spilling deep inside you, no doubt in wanting to fertilise your womb.
“Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou” he’d quickly mutter, his hips coming to a slow roll. Stirring up the sticky mess inside you. His pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit.
“…do you wanna go again, baby—”
“Phainon, the black tide will be more merciful than me if you ask another stupid question.” You huffed to him quickly, limbs sore and aching all over.
rent-a-boyfriend. (yandere! phainon x female reader)
; yandere, modern au, slowburn (?), tfw instead of the customer breaching boundaries it's the employee :(, he kisses you drunk and gets touchy, not proofread.
; desperate to prove to your mother that your dating life is thriving in college, you begin to rent out a boyfriend from a shady website to trick her into thinking you're in a dedicated relationship. that's fine and all, but he's starting to act like your actual boyfriend rather than a rented one.
when stelle sent you a link to a website titled rentaboyfriend.com/profiles, out of all things, you had first assumed that she was joking around with you, as per usual. you heaved a sigh, putting down your phone as you stared at her smiling face across the table.
“really now?” you frown, “i get that you’re trying to make me feel better, but this is not making me laugh, stelle.”
she sputters, hurriedly swiping through her phone before turning it around for you to see. she opened up the website, you realize, as she scrolls down countless and hundreds of different men’s profiles, different heights, styles, hair, etc. “i’m not trying to make you feel better, i’m offering a solution! look!”
stelle shoves the phone closer to your face, “didn’t you say that your mom’s been depressed thinking about your lonely ass? peep the name, you can rent a boyfriend here!”
you roll your eyes, “first of all, she’s not depressed, just worried. second of all, what do you mean i can rent a boyfriend?” you grab hold of her phone to scroll down at your own pace, “i thought renting only existed for apartments and items, not…. this. how are you even sure this isn’t a scam?”
she proudly huffs, “because i’ve tried this before!”
“oh, i see.” you dryly reply, staring down at her in unamusement. “so that’s why you had a date for march’s birthday last year.”
“what can i say? a magician never reveals her secret,” she shoves herself into your side of the table, forcing you to make space, “well, not unless it’s to help out a good pal. wink wink.”
“do not say wink wink, are you crazy?” you laugh, thumb hovering over one profile that caught your interest. “but… let’s assume that i did rent a boyfriend to placate my mother… what if she asks me about him again and again?”
stelle looks at you as if you’re downright stupid, “then just keep renting him out, duh? keep doing this for like, eight months minimum and play up a tragic story to your mom’s ears so that she’ll think you’re too boohoo over him to get into another relationship.” leaning back into the cushion, she flashes you a smirk, “and then no relationship pressure until you graduate, boom! i’m a genius, i know.”
you hum, staring down at a square-sized picture of a white-haired man with crystalline eyes. stelle, for all credit that is due, is right. 8 months is enough time for a loved and dedicated relationship to make your mother think that you’re genuinely heartbroken over him by the time he’s out of the picture. and perhaps your pride will be the one weeping in your stead, but sacrifices must be made for your fabricated love story.
turning to face stelle, you give a noncommittal punch to her side, “If this doesn't work, i’m ending our friendship.”
RENT-A-BOYFRIEND RULES.pdf
physical touch (e.g., kissing, hand-holding, hugging) between a client and employee is allowed; however, the boundaries must be stated during the sign-up process to avoid any breaches. in the case of a boundary breached by either client or employee, please contact rentaboyfriend.com/costumer_service for more details.
for each appointment availed, 100% of the payment must be paid on the date of booking.
falling in love and experiencing jealousy with and over the employee is strictly prohibited. the employees are workers with personal lives outside a client’s slotted time, personal information and feelings are not part of the conduct.
sexual intercourse is strictly prohibited. any initiation reported to the head department will lead to a termination of either the client's or the employee’s rent-a-boyfriend profile.
the client or employee may reschedule their appointment one week before the date.
by agreeing to our terms and services, you hereby acknowledge that the relationship you are pursuing with an employee from rent-a-boyriend is not real. at the end of the appointment, the experience you had is part of the service, and is by no means a real, love-fostering ‘date’.
you: mother, i got a boyfriend.
you: :)
I. lights, camera, action.
you picture stelle’s raised brows and her trying to hold in her guttural laugh as she eggs you on, “wow (y/n), first date already and he’s in your apartment? Attagirl!” and in perfect sync with her would be march’s uncontrolled giggles as she childishly repeats the motion of her index finger going in and out of her other hand that has formed into a circle. “I never knew you had in you, (y/n)! Remember to practice safe sex, okay?”
and for that ungodly made-up scenario in your head, you choose to omit this detail from your friends and instead claim that you’re meeting up with him in the nearby theme park. a white lie that they’ll forget about in a few week’s time. while you yourself would have greatly preferred that to be the truth, reality often comes barreling in to disrupt you.
that is to say, the moment you sent the text message to your mother announcing your so-called relationship, she’s been spamming your phone day and night begging to meet him through video call. at first, you tried to calm her by lying about your boyfriend being terrified to meet her, only for it to completely backfire as she promised to be on her best behavior when meeting him. you still remember the embarrassment that coursed through your veins as you texted your rental boyfriend about the meeting place, and you know the embarrassment will stick to you for days to come.
and while calling in a different place is not a bad idea either, you’d rather not be in a public space where the script that you generously printed out could be seen by passing bystanders. if you could, you’d outright tell him that you’re not luring him into your apartment to violate guidelines and that you are not a pervert by any means, but saying those words out loud would only worsen the situation.
you can only hope that he trusts you when you said that this video call is a one-time thing.
your mother’s visage loads into your laptop screen, smile lines present as she beams at you in utter delight. she’s in the living room, and you can even spot your grumpy senior cat lounging in the background. you bow your head in greeting before smiling at her, “good afternoon, mother.”
“hello, my darling!” she leans in close to the camera, no doubt peering in to survey your background for any signs of the aforementioned ‘boyfriend’. “and where is my future son-in-law?”
your face heats up, flustered at her bold choice of words, “mother! don’t refer to him as such. we’ve only been together for a week, you’ll scare him!”
she only throws her head back and laughs, askewing her glasses without care. in her moment of distraction, you discreetly pull out your phone from below to view your recent messages.
phainon: i’ll be there any minute now
phainon: again, so sorry! Traffic took a while :(
you: it’s okay. Take care.
you sigh, nerves beginning to fray. you resume your focus back to your mother, pointing at your phone in hand, “my boyfriend said he’ll be here soon. I will wait for him at the front door.”
your mother frantically nods, “of course! You lovebirds must be dying to see each other, haha!”
“i’ll be turning off my camera and mic for now. when he arrives, please do not call him son-in-law, mother.” you cringe, dreading to imagine the tense smile on your rented boyfriend’s face.
you pick up two folders from the other side of the room, plopping them down just beneath the coffee table where your laptop sits. while you’re confident in your date’s memorization abilities, you prefer to play it safe. And true to his words, he comes knocking on your apartment door a minute or two later.
standing up, you feel your palms getting clammy as you rush to welcome him in. the oak door creaks open, revealing phainon in all his boyish charm’s glory. pristine white hair, sparkling blue eyes, and wearing a casual fit consisting of a white shirt and baggy jeans. rather than a ‘hi’ or a ‘i hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle to get here’, the first thing you say to him is, “do you have the script memorized?”
he chuckles at that, setting aside his shoes before stepping in. “of course, how could i not with the effort you put into it?”
the effort in question is the FAQ section you added to the several-page-long document you sent first thing after introductions. in generosity, you even added an alternate option wherein he tries his best to act like the shittiest guy in the world so that your mother will beg for you to break up with him.
but he had kindly refused, stating that he didn’t want to be the subject of several aunties’ conversations for several years. you understand where he’s coming from. auntie gossip feels like its own curse.
you smile, ushering him further into your apartment. “thank you for accepting my ludicrous offer, phainon. have you eaten yet?”
he shakes his head no, observing the trinkets and personalized furniture you have displayed, “it’s no problem to me, (y/n). in fact, i’m eager to play actor for your mom.”
stopping right outside of the living room door, you glance at him over your shoulder. “remember the script, okay? my mother is not a harsh person, quite the opposite, actually. but she’s intelligent and quick to pick up on any discrepancies. the moment she notices a fault and a lack of consistency in our stories, it’s over.”
“and there’s a printed-out script on the floor, but if you need to read it, signal it to me first.”
he salutes you like a sergeant, back straightened and all. “got it! I’ll keep that in mind.”
you inhale, grabbing hold of the knob, “ready?”
phainon grins, “always.”
the script you created plays out like this: while studying for your first midterm, you resorted to a secluded library with a nearby cafe. amidst your dutiful reading, you felt hunger and went to the cafe for a quick snack. the person manning the counter during that time was phainon, and you immediately formed a crush on him, adding that place into a near-daily routine. after a month or two of ogling at him, you one day steeled your nerves and asked him for his number, which he dutifully complied with. you flirted with each other through text for a while before phainon decided to ask you to be his date for a nearby festival. and the rest is history.
when you first presented this storyline to your two friends lucky enough to know you’re about to fake a relationship, they both wore faces of disgust, as if what you had shown them was human feces scooped up with your bare hands rather than a document.
“i thought i begged you to stop watching those romance dramas that sushang introduced you to?” stelle, the enabler for your whole scheme in the first place, crinkles her nose, swatting away your phone like it personally wronged her.
“like come on, a person asking for a barista’s number would be reported asap! get real, (y/n). Are you just going to infodump that on your mom?” march squints her eyes shut, dramatically shivering. “you should just say that you met through AstralGram!”
“that’s objectively ten times worse. sit this one out, march.” you huff, shutting off your phone, “you both don’t get it. my mother adores this type of relationship. she’s a chronic xianzhou romance drama watcher with a premium subscription.”
“right. sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” stelle pulls out her phone, getting ready to gamble, “just remember to update us.”
assholes, the lot of them. out of pure spite, you won’t. after the success of fully making your mother believe that you are now in a committed relationship, you like to think that your two assholes of friends don’t deserve to know that. for now. wrapping up the plastic container in a cute, patterned cloth, you turn around to give it to an awaiting phainon on the living room couch.
“here, as a token of my gratitude,” his calloused hands reach out to accept, briefly brushing against yours.
“you didn’t need to do this, (y/n). but still, thank you.” he cradles the clothed container to his abdomen, peering up at you in gratitude.
“it’s the least i could do.” you give a thoughtful hum, looking at your cat-themed wall clock ticking away, “next week, we’ll meet in a restaurant as per my mother’s wish. i hope this is fine with you?”
“and you’ll send her pictures of us on the date, right?” phainon clarifies, stretching his body out.
you nod. “of course, the date will be fully paid by me. should you lack formal attire, tell me now so I can transfer extra funds to your account.”
phainon gapes at you, blue eyes wide open, “...i’m deeply sorry if i’m just assuming things, but wow, you are loaded.”
you look at him in confusion, “with the website’s payment rates to afford just one appointment, i would hope so.”
you stare at your phone, confusedly blinking at the 58th cat meme that phainon had sent you ever since he managed to pry out the name of your senior cat back home. the first time he had sent you a meme, you believed that it was an accident on his part. but now, it appears that his chattiness simply carries on over to texts, regardless of who he’s sending nonsensical clips to. so you give him another laughing emoji reaction rather than a reply, because the image did make you laugh.
but he sends another meme just 10 seconds later, making you look at it in astonishment.
you: where do you get all these materials?
phainon: you finally responded!
you: ?
you: I’ve been responding to each one of them?
phainon: laughing reacts don’t count
phainon: i thought you ghosted me :(((
you: phainon, that is not ghosting. and what would i gain from ghosting you? I need you.
phainon: .
phainon: you need me????
you: yes, because i rent you to be my boyfriend?
he doesn’t grace you with a reply thereafter, so you shut off your phone and redirect your attention to a struggling march with calculus, back bent over the table as she tries her best to take in the formulas. beside her is a thriving stelle typing her way through a multi-paged essay, a perfect dichotomy to the pink-haired girl’s misery. and just across from you is dan heng,
who is already staring right at you, arms crossed.
you tilt your head, “is something wrong?”
“you have a boyfriend?” dan heng asks, brows furrowed, and you hope that the flinch you give doesn’t reveal your scheme.
giving him a small smile, you nod, “...who told you that?”
march and stelle are quick to abandon their respective work in favor of listening in through side glances. you wish you could ask for their help, but alas, this is a battlefield you must fight alone.
“i found out through auntie. hm, i was wondering who the guy entering your apartment a few days back was.”
of course he did, childhood friends be damned, dan heng lives just a few doors down the floor as your mother wanted him to live nearby to watch over you. just like when you were children.
“s- she told you?” you mentally curse out your stutter. if dan heng ever finds out that you were faking it, would he tell your mother? you shiver just from entertaining the thought. “are you… mad?”
dan heng sighs, a weary sound, as if his soul is thousands of years old, “no, not mad. just… disappointed, i suppose.”
chewing on your lip, you press further. “why?”
it takes him a moment to reply, and when he does, there is a strange note of melancholy in his voice, “it’s... nothing, don’t worry about it.”
II. my boyfriend is a fake one, but i care regardless.
a cumulative 8 dates later, alternatively, two months, it is now a well-known fact around your circle of friends and acquaintances that you have a boyfriend, with march and stelle being the only exceptions to your lie. you never revealed his name, only giving a vague description of his appearance, in fear of someone finding out about the rental boyfriend site. and you substitute his name by simply just referring to him as your ‘boyfriend’ or ‘lover’.
the false relationship begins to bleed through personal parts of your life in order to maintain the facade, trickling further day by day. your old lockscreen, a photo of your cat when she was still a kitten, has been swapped out for a selfie with phainon taken during a beach date, both smiling widely - your hair partially wet, and phainon’s abs peeking through his sheer shirt. his contact name on your phone has undergone changes, too. a formal 'phainon' transformed into a cringy, eye rolling, 'babe'.
you’re required to slip him into a conversation every now and then, lest people start to think that you broke up. if they start thinking that, then the news will get to dan heng, who will then report back to your mother over your failed relationship. it’s too early for separation.
a topic about working out more will have you remarking, “oh! I believe that my boyfriend has a routine for the upper body, i can ask him for you if you’d like.”
your mother will send a picture of an item saying, “i think phainon would love this!” and you’ll reply through text with, “yes, i agree :)”
some random student hitting on you in the hallway gives you a valid reason to reject them, “sorry, i have a boyfriend.”
a conversation with your peer during free time in class leads to a topic about relationships, and they’ll complain about their significant other’s bad habit before asking about yours. with a practiced smile, you laugh, “he has none.”
you hold slight envy toward your rented boyfriend in times like these, while you’re here needing to mention him at least once per day, he’s free to live life as he pleases, not tied down to an obligated lie around others. you imagine then what it’d be like to be in his shoes, a rental boyfriend, taking pictures together as if you’re enjoying the time of your life with your client and appearing lovey-dovey to send it to her mother before going back home with a new check having just arrived in your bank account.
perhaps in an alternate reality, should such a thing exist, you’re the employee living a hassle-free life, attending dates almost daily. you laugh at the thought, finding it unfit for you.
well, you’re happy that phainon is at least free from this mess outside the slotted date each week.
still… you sneak a look over his side profile, dimly lit from the theater you’re currently in. perhaps once a week is too much for his schedule. he is, just like you, a college student with his own set of deadlines and classes struggling with. he may be paid, but is it at the cost of his academics, you wonder?
you can’t bring yourself to focus at the movie when phainon’s head is bobbling up and down while he tries to abate the sweet respite of sleep. you lean to whisper in his ear, “are you alright?”
he immediately shoots upright, casting you a wobbly smile and speaks in a reassured tone that, in fact, does not reassure you, “sorry, sorry! Just a little tired.”
you ponder to yourself if what you’re doing is meddling with the guidelines of your rental boyfriend when you ask, “what’s wrong? You don’t look too well.”
phainon pauses, head turned to you as he’s illuminated by the light coming from the screen. you see him visibly gulp, you spot his fingers twitch, and the askew strands of hair sticking out. he doesn’t look fine, probably hasn’t been for days now.
the decision is made then, you don’t wait for his reply when you tug at his wrist and point in the direction of the exit, “let’s get out of here, come on.”
his eyes widen, and he stutters (the first time you’ve heard it from him), refusing to stand up from his seat, “but what about the movie?”
you huff, tugging on his wrist harder despite knowing you have no physical strength against him, “it’s most likely some slop. I’m saving our time here, let’s go.” you give him a pleading look, bottom lip jutting out as you try to mirror his signature kicked puppy expression, “please, phainon?”
phainon closes his eyes and with a resigned sigh, mutters, “fine.”
phainon’s cheerful exterior leads to cracks of vulnerability harder to break through. as you sit with him inside a mostly empty diner, you start to think that he’ll never speak up about his recent troubles. nursing an iced tea, “this is fine, too. We can just sit here in silence until time is up,” you offer, gazing at his troubled eyes. this is a first for you, your friends easily trust you, so they spill out their darkest thoughts and troubles like waterfalls cascading, dan heng included.
to see phainon so guarded…
he hasn’t even touched the food you ordered for him. from what your memory recalled during past dates, he adores a classic burger with fries on the side. did he get sick of it? or is he craving something different today? you harshly chew on your bottom lip, worry gnawing away at your conscience. but if he doesn’t eat, would that not lead to even more lethargy? should he pass out here and then, do you even possess the strength to carry him to safety? maybe you should take his gym routi-
phainon reluctantly picks up a fry, his usually bright blue eyes downcast with dark bags beneath. and just like that, the dam breaks. shedding some of his bravado as he begins to speak of his life, of his experiences that shaped him - that clings to his skin every waking day.
you and him stay in that diner way past the agreed time slot you booked him for, but you couldn't care less when phainon is bearing his heart out to you. he paints himself in colors that, for once, don’t serve to make him shine brighter. a stroke of green, as he expresses envy toward his peers back in college that didn’t need to scrape the bottom of the barrel just to attend, you think he felt envious toward you at some point, too. a hurried gray while he recalls his family, whom he had lost to a wildfire when he was still scrawny and little.
a beautiful purple, he tells you of how he grew up in an orphanage after, and how he had to take up odd jobs around the city to save up for a dream he wished to fulfill; leaving amphoreus to study in a place far away. a deafening black for when he discovered how to make easy money through the rental boyfriend website his college friend introduced him to, no more picking up odd jobs and heavy labour.
a navy blue for he rebuilt himself from the ground, tweaking aspects of himself to parade around to be the general ideal type of man that most would flock to; up to date with trends, flirty but charming, good looking, and nice.
at the end of it all, his bright colors of sunny yellow, slate white, bright red, and teal are overshadowed by the neutral tones he reveals to you. You had been sorely mistaken, you realize, having assumed that he is what he portrays himself as rather than seeing what he actually is: a method actor called upon the stage the moment he enters one of his countless appointments, dedicated to his role of playing the picture-perfect boyfriend.
your heart squeezes in pain, knowing that you’re part of his burdens, no matter if you’re just a speck. your eyes are peeled back, beginning to view him as less of a guy you just pay to pretend he’s your perfect lover, and more of a friend who deals with his own problems just like everyone else. pure ignorance on your part.
he looks at you as he finishes his long-winded talk, searching for an inkling of annoyance or disgust in your eyes as you stare back at him. at that moment, you could only offer a classic, “I’m sorry.”
phainon shakes his head, defeated, “you have nothing to be sorry for, (y/n).”
you wish you could let him go right now, announcing to him that he’s free from you as a client to lessen his burden. someone else will be quick to replace you as his client, after all. but your mother’s approval weighs above all, even above your own priorities. your hands ache to reach across the table to hold him comfortingly, wishing that you can tell him it’ll only be 6 more months until he’s free.
for now, your lips part to give him the barest minimum, “you can just play up the boyfriend act for the photos to send to my mother. everything else,” you smile, “just treat me like you would a friend. that’s the least i can gift you, phainon.”
his breath hitches. he pauses, wetting his lips before looking at you in earnest, eyes shining from unshed tears, “thank you.”
and if the scheduled date the following week takes place in a restaurant that specializes in serving dishes from amphoreus, if only to give him a crumb of home? you will turn a blind eye to phainon’s astonished face and pretend that you hadn’t known this would happen.
but as his fingers tenderly interlaced themselves with your own as he walked you to the parking lot, his gratitude was more than felt.
“what? my mother’s number?” you frown, pausing mid-bite, “are you… hitting on my mother, phainon?”
phainon refutes the moment the accusatory words leave your mouth, hands forming an ‘X’ as he violently shakes his head from left to right, “what? no! it’s so i can talk to her through text!”
you merely raise a brow, not seeing where he’s going. it causes him to hurry his explanation.
“she’s been pestering you about another video call, right? I mean, i don’t mind…” he blushes, looking at you as a giddy smile forms on his lips, “but…! give me her number so i can earn brownie points and be the best boyfriend ever.”
ah. “so you’ll sacrifice your free time to distract her from bothering me? you see, she's a very talkative person.”
he nods, scarily resembling a happy puppy from his white tufts of hair and goofy smile, “yeah, your paper is due next week, right? Don’t worry, i’ll talk to her like a good son-in-law.”
you exhale at his jokingly proclaimed title, making you recall back to when your own mother referred to him as such. “sure, whatever floats your boat.”
III. an unscripted moment.
you wake with a blaring awareness that the mere act of swallowing hurts, and your entire body is burning up. your back feels sticky from dried sweat, and your body screams at you as you reach for your phone on the bedside table. It’s 11:34 AM, friday. no classes, but a date with phainon as per schedule.
you groan, eyes burning up the longer you stare at your screen. with sluggish movements, you quickly type up a message to send him before shutting your eyes once more, praying that slumber will quell your horrid fever.
you: i'm cancelling the date today.
you: don't worry, you still keep the money.
the influx of notifications coming from your phone in relentless ‘ping’s are fruitless.
the second time you blearily blink your eyes open, you hear the faint, yet never-ending, sound of knocking coming from your apartment door. body still burning up, you whimper in pain as you sit up, immediately feeling your skull going around in circles. it induces nausea in you. once more reaching your phone, you’re greeted by an onslaught of spam texts from phainon that are still ongoing.
- 11:34AM -
you: i'm cancelling the date today.
you: don't worry, you still keep the money.
babe: woah? good morning to you too beautiful
babe: nice joke btw i laughed
- 11:40AM -
babe: i said i laughed at your joke
babe: so take back what you said :(
babe: (y/n)?
- 11:55AM -
babe: hey. are you mad at me?
babe: (y/n)???
babe: give me a laugh react and i’ll take that as no
babe: or at least read my message
- 12:10PM -
babe: whatever i did wrong im sorry
babe: so respond to me
babe: please?
babe: or at least let this be a joke you’re just dragging on
babe: i won’t even be mad
babe: just
babe: happy
- 12:31PM -
babe: please answer me
babe: im starting to get worried
babe: are you in danger?
babe: or maybe you don’t want me around anymore
babe: haha
- 12:45PM -
missed call from babe.
missed call from babe.
babe: pick up
babe: im begging you
- 1:12PM -
babe: i wish i could visit your apartment to check up on you
babe: but fuck. Would that be too much?
- 1:33PM -
babe: i asked auntie if you were in your apartment
babe: told her you weren’t responding to me
babe: and she said you weren’t replying back to her either
babe: i’m sorry but i need to visit you
babe: i can’t you lose you like this.
- 2:00PM -
babe: i’m at your front door
babe: answer me. Please?
- 2:22PM -
babe: (y/n) i know you’re finally reading all these messages
babe: your reading receipts are turned on
you: i know, phainon.
you: i just woke up, i’m sorry for making you worry.
you: hold on, i’ll unlock the door for you.
despite wanting to remain in the comfort of your bed, your sickness won’t quickly abate if you continue to rot here and allow your guest standing outside. with slow, measured steps, careful not to worsen your headache, you eventually reach the door to welcome phainon in.
blessed with looks he may be, right now, he looks like a mess. his usual part in his white hair is nowhere to be found, resembling a bird’s nest rather than a hairstyle. his eyes are shrouded in a mix of worry and devastation, and his usual stylish outfits are severely downgraded into a bright yellow hoodie and… purple pants?
you have always been one for honesty, ironic considering your relationship is a hoax, so you look at him and croak out, “you look like shit.”
your words are static noise with phainon’s worry worsening as he looks at you from head to toe, hand holding onto you like you’d wither without him, “have you eaten yet? your body is burning up.” to double-check, he presses his other hand up to your forehead, gasping in shock when he does so.
his lips wobble, acting like he’s in just as much pain as you. rather, seeing you in pain puts him in much worse agony, “lay down on your bed,” he ushers you further down the hall, “i’ll cook you something warm. did you finish all your backlogs yet? I can do them for you.”
weak hands try their best to pry off phainon’s steady grip on you as you sluggishly mutter, “it’s okay, phainon… you don’t have to be here.” a yawn, “i’ll be fine, i promise. the payment won’t be deducted from you.”
instead of a relieved expression you envisioned, phainon’s face sours, “it’s not about that,” he retorts, tone curt. “i want to take care of you, so please let me.”
with the firmer shove, yet still mindful of your weakened state, “go back to your room and rest. It’ll take a while for me to cook, okay?”
you sigh, feeling the room melting around your vision, “yeah, fine. whatever. don’t complain if you end up regretting this.”
his usual liveliness resumes when you hear him laugh, “i would never.”
you don’t resume sleep, having overslept more than enough for today. yet looking at your phone only irritates your headache further, leaving you no choice but to play background music while staring up at your ceiling, contemplating your past actions this week to see where you went wrong that led to you being bedridden.
you hate getting sick. you try to prevent it as much as possible by eating your daily dose of greens, fruits, and protein, and you always make sure to bring an umbrella in case of an unexpected weather. you try your best not to stay up too late if preventable, and yet…
phainon knocks twice before entering your room. his left hand carries a steaming bowl that, upon further inspection, is tomato soup. his hair pushed back using your headband, and he’s wearing the pink, glittery apron that march gifted you earlier this year. the hot pink layered on top of his yellow and purple combo fit makes you laugh, triggering a coughing fit.
he hurries to set down the bowl and fishes his phone out of his pants before patting your back, “what’s wrong, are you okay?”
you let last few coughs before hoarsely replying, “i like your fit.” he looks down on himself like he hadn’t thought of what he was wearing prior, “oh.”
red dusts the tip of his ears as he pulls back, clearing his throat and hurrying out of the room, “anyways! i’ll go get the other bowl and cups, let’s eat together.” he’s gone before you can even laugh a second time.
your focus is soon shifted when you spot his phone on the bedside table. He left it behind, the screen flashing open as a push notification came, briefly exposing his lockscreen. even in your fever-addled mind, you recognize the exact picture,
it’s the beach date picture, the same one set as your own lockscreen.
you blink in wonder. it had only appeared on the screen for a split second. was that a product of your imaginative fever-induced mind? if not, why would he set that picture as his lockscreen?
IV. what to do if your rented boyfriend starts to act a little too seriously?
the first thing you had done after signing up for the rent-a-boyfriend website was to read their guidelines. you had incinerated each and every word into your retinas, ensuring that you wouldn’t forget a single thing, no matter how much time passed. among the guidelines that stuck with you the most was;
falling in love and experiencing jealousy with and over the employee is strictly prohibited. the employees are workers with personal lives outside a client’s slotted time, personal information and feelings are not part of the conduct.
you kept this in mind from the moment you had chosen phainon to be the unfortunate victim to your false relationship. you even assured him through email that you’re not the type to fall in love so easily, especially not under a measly 8 months.
this stands true even now.
falling in love and experiencing jealousy with and over the employee is strictly prohibited. the employees are workers with personal lives outside a client’s slotted time, personal information and feelings are not part of the conduct.
phainon is an amazing actor when he needs to play the boyfriend role. he deserves flowers for that. had he not been living under unfortunate circumstances, you’re sure you would’ve seen his handsome face playing as the male lead for one of the xianzhou romance dramas that your mother watches in the evening. he suits every romance trope, oddly enough.
falling in love and experiencing jealousy with and over the employee is strictly prohibited. the employees are workers with personal lives outside a client’s slotted time, personal information and feelings are not part of the conduct.
but even you cannot turn a blind eye to the gradual, sinking feeling that slowly began to accumulate in your stomach after your fever incident. you recall the rules inscribed upon the website, clients are strictly prohibited from falling in love with their rental boyfriends.
falling in love and experiencing jealousy with and over the employee is strictly prohibited. the employees are workers with personal lives outside a client’s slotted time, personal information and feelings are not part of the conduct.
pray tell, what can you do if the rental boyfriend is the one in love with you?
days leading up to the long-awaited semester break, or alternatively, nearly 4 months into your rental boyfriend antics, your mother messaged you one late evening. you had been losing your mind over a stern professor, crying immaturely over the directions they had given for finals, or lack thereof, that had you losing days’ worth of sleep just to fulfill.
at that moment, the notification from her had brought salvation to your suffering, making you forget about such troubles, even if for a brief moment, just to see what she had to say. the content of her message, however, made you raise your brow.
mother: semester break is soon, right?
you: yes, mother. :)
mother: and you’re coming back home, right? ☺️
you: of course, mother.
mother: that’s wonderful!
mother: i’ve been thinking about it for quite a while
mother: and i was wondering
mother: maybe you should bring phainon with you!
mother: i can cook your favorite meal for him to taste
you: what
you: apologies for my abrupt reply.
you: however, bringing my boyfriend along to meet the family… mother, is that not too soon?
you: phainon and i are barely hitting the four-month mark.
you: the last thing i want is to scare him away.
mother: oh, you’re overthinking this!
mother: phainon is a sweet boy! he’s been telling me that you’re under his loving care 💓
mother: he even sent me a picture of you when you caught that fever ;)
you: he truly is, yes. but…
you: give me more time to think about this, please.
you recount this situation to your date with phainon a few days later, deeply troubled at how you’re going to tell your mother that your rental boyfriend cannot, in fact, be brought back home. he has his own life, friends, and duties. he’s either going to stay in his own apartment here or visit amphoreus for the month of december.
phainon, in an ideal world, would have laughed at you and agreed that he wouldn’t be available for semester break. probably throw in a tease or two about company rules and whatnot. instead, the phainon in front of you merely sips his drink, blinking with no surprise or mortification whatsoever. “oh, i know. auntie told me yesterday. but don’t worry! i already told her i was coming.”
that’s not what you were… you inhaled sharply, “what? Wait.” you rubbed your temple, frustration reaching an all-time high, “that would be near impossible, phainon.”
“why so?” he prods, expertly dodging your swatting hands as he steals a fry from your meal.
“because you need to book a flight? And there’s less than two weeks left for that?” you stress, “and what about amphoreus? your friends back there must be worried sick over you. you truly don’t need to sacrifice this much for me, phainon. i will tell my mother that yo-”
“you worry your pretty head too much,” his thumb tenderly rubs at the crease formed between your brows. he stares deep into your eyes, "relax, it’ll be fine. I want to be there, (y/n).”
“remember, don’t mention any unfavorable traits about either myself or you. they don’t know how i act outside our house, and they don’t know your work description. avoid speaking about our fabricated love story as much as possible so we can play safe,” you call out from behind phainon, worriedly looking over your childhood home just a few feet away. your hands itch to hold something, but phainon had already graciously carried your luggage for you.
he simply nods, focused on making that both your luggages don’t swerve in the other direction as he hoists it up the stairs. clearing your throat, you prepare yourself in front of the closed door, casting phainon a side glance as you caution him one last time, “let’s be on our best behavior.”
“just for you.” he winks, knocking on the door first before you could. you roll your eyes.
the muted clicks of heels fast approaching tenses you up, knowing that your mother will be opening the door for you and your boyfriend. you take a deep breath right as the entrance creaks open, displaying your mother in all her glory. her glasses perched on her nose bridge, wearing a black turtle neck, and a long skirt with red bottom heels. she gasps excitedly, eyes locked onto you before even taking a look at the man on your side.
“hello, mother.” you give a tight smile whereas phainon does a perfect bow, “good evening, mrs. (l/n)!”
“welcome home, you two!” her hand eagerly reaches out to take care of all the luggage but phainon politely refuses as he hauls them all inside. stripping off your shoes, you take a look around your home, finding it strange how quickly it had become unfamiliar from the months you’d been away for college. while you had grown up vaguely aware that your family possessed, it had never truly sunk into your mind until you met march and stelle during the last year of high school. opulence bleeds through every corner of your spacious house, not blaringly so, but subtly, akin to a glimmering gem beneath light.
phainon’s hand quickly finds purchase in yours, happily swinging them back and forth while you follow closely behind your mother. he leans in to whisper into your ear, “you’re adorable.” you throw him an unamused look. he tilts his head, all coy, “what? Don’t tell me you’re not seeing the picture frames all over the walls?”
“not another word.” you whisper back, bumping his side into the hallway.
your mother leads you to the dining room, a massive elongated table that makes your father feel like an emperor every time he sits at the head. an overkill purchase on his part, considering you only had one other sibling, but you suppose that man will buy anything for the sake of his ego.
“phainon, you sit next to (y/n), of course.” she pulls out two seats, eyeing your interlocked fingers with twinkling eyes. “oh, and you’ll be staying here until the end of the month, yes?”
phainon eagerly nods, tugging you along to your designated seats, “yes, mrs. (l/n)!”
you hold back the urge to ram your face straight into the wall, already feeling drained as you wait for the long night ahead.
late past midnight, there’s a knocking on your door that rouses you from your desk. having retired back to your childhood bedroom the moment family dinner was done, leaving phainon with your family downstairs with nothing but a withering glare on your face as warning. but he merely nodded, sending you kissy faces, before going back to arm wrestling with your father to prove that he was ‘worth your love’ while your sibling howls in laughter.
“who’s there?” you call out, staring at the door.
for a moment, the knocking stills, silence wafting in the air.
then it picks up again.
you huff, now staring indignantly, “pardon me, i asked who’s there?”
silence. knocking.
nerves fully riled up, you throw your phone down before stomping over until you’re right in front of your door. “are you going to keep knocking or what?”
finally, “it’s me, phainon…” he twists the doorknob left and right, rattling it.
you frown, noting the low volume of his voice and the slur in his words. “phainon?” you open the door, light from your bedroom pooling into the dark hallway as you stare up at your rental boyfriend’s face. “do you need something?”
you observe his features; flushed cheeks, unfocused eyes, and fringe covering his other eye… there’s no doubt in your mind, phainon is at best, tipsy, and at worst, wasted. it must be from the rum that your father adores, you conclude, finger brushing his hair from his face. “hello? Are you still with me, phainon?”
he blinks slowly, eyes trying to focus on you but it’s a useless endeavor. “i…” he leans closer, towering over you and smelling like dark molasses, permeating through the air, “can we uh, talk? please?”
you pause. “why? about what?”
“just, i-” he fumbles with his words, inching closer and closer, “i wanna talk about something…”
“is it important? it’s,” you glance behind to look at the wall clock, “twelve-fifty in the morning, phainon.”
“yeah, it’s- it’s really important,” his foot wedges inside, like he’s scared you’d close it on him, “i promise.”
you open the door further, encouraging him inside. he follows through with swaying footsteps, blue eyes fixated on you. you sit him down on the edge of the bed, sitting right beside, “what is it?”
he doesn’t answer you right away, merely looking around your room with this awed look on his face. his gaze sifts through your old shelf filled with dolls and dollhouses, and just beside is a shelf dedicated to all the trophies and medals you acquired while studying. a little further left is the door entrance to your walk-in closet, where some of your clothes from kindergarten are still somewhere inside, buried beneath your newer, shinier clothes.
phainon then sinks into your bed, back resting against the lush mattress of your beloved bed. you think you heard him inhale the bedsheets before speaking, “your mom…. she said that i’m your first boyfriend.”
he turns his head, red flush still present while beholding you, “is that.. Is that true?”
your lips purse, “well, that’s what they believe, yes.”
he inches closer until his bare forearm makes contact with your pajama-clad ones, “and your dad, he… welcomed me to the family. said that he always wanted you to be happy, you know? and.”
you stay silent, allowing him to continue. “your sibling, they congratulated me… joked about waiting for the wedding.”
your face sours, recoiling from guilt at the massive farce that you’ve been playing right in front of your family, “that’s…” you bite your lip, “it’s whatever. probably a result from the festive atmosphere, don’t let them get to you, phainon. this is just business at the end of the day.”
his face falls, a vacant look overtaking.
“...is it really?”
“it is.” you reply, not missing a beat, finally catching up to what he’s here for. “phainon, don’t be ridiculous right now.”
“i’m not ridiculous, (y/n).” he softly chastises, sitting up as he corners you to the edge of your bed. “don’t tell me you’re not feeling what i’m feeling every time i see you. this feeling is mutual, isn’t it?” and you’re so dumbstruck at the entire situation that you can’t seem to formulate a response to his ludicrous actions.
phainon climbs on top of your body, calloused hands cradling you as if you were a star he bottled up with his own two hands. he leans in just mere centimeters away from your lips to whisper madness meant to be shared only with you, “i love you, i truly do. i want to be your real boyfriend. i want to go around my campus and yell out your name. i want to say your name every time someone asks me if i’m taken. it makes me want to crawl out of my skin when i go on a date with someone who isn’t you. i want to spend each and every morning until death in your arms. i want to graduate and get a job to provide for you. i love you so, so much (y/n), you’re all i ever wished for. i’m so tired of pretending to be this pristine guy i’m not.”
a heaving gasp, nails digging into his skin that only serves to make him groan out in pleasure, “phainon-”
he leans in to kiss you, sealing and tainting your first kiss with his filth. your childhood plushie resting on your desk being the sole witness.
years down the line, i will make you look back and say that you're glad you found me through that website. then your eyes will glisten in affection as you lean into my embrace and say, "i love you, phainon." as easily as breathing.
rent-a-bf phainon, if he was allowed to be absolutely manic: are you talking to other people be honest w me
(y/n), thinking: wow his boyfriend acting is getting so real these days. they should cast him in a xianzhou drama.
