#Call my by my actual name but have to also be able to recognize my deadname when following up on cases/ quality control stuff so it's
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loving-family-poll · 2 days ago
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2nd Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 1
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Propaganda under the cut:
Buck/Maddie:
The first time we see Maddie, Buck is inadvertently trying to get into the shower with her, which in my opinion really sets the tone. They're siblings who grew up with emotionally neglectful parents, extremely entwined and dependent on each other until Maddie leaves home for an abusive marriage. Unaware of the abuse but knowing they're both miserable in their current lives, Buck asks Maddie to run away with him. She agrees to go with him, until her husband finds out and assaults her. Still unaware and feeling betrayed by her change of heart, Buck nevertheless writes to her after he leaves on his own. He keeps up the correspondence for three years even though she never writes back. And when Maddie finally makes the decision to leave, explicitly because her brother never gave up on her, the first thing she does is show up on his doorstep. (Or, to be more specific, in his shower). Some have described their relationship as "wholesome" and "heart warming" but personally I think the sweeping romance of this backstory gives them a pass to get a little freaky with each other.
Maddie and Buck grow up close, thier parents completely closed off from them but especially from Buck. Buck finds out later in life that they had a brother Daniel who he was made to be a savior child for. It didn't work and Daniel died and the Buckley parents pretended he didn't exist, forcing Maddie to do the same. Maddie and Buck mention several times that it was them vs the world and that the Buckley parents weren't bad people just bad parents. Maddie especially is parentified and spent most of thier childhood raising Buck. Buck is the only Buckley who goes to Maddie wedding to her eventual husband who is abusive. When we meet Maddie in the series she's on the run from Doug. Doug does actually end up kidnapping Maddie and its Buck who goes after her and rescues her.
Maddie stayed with her abusive husband to save Buck from his wrath, and even though Buck didn't know that, he sent her postcards documenting his journey. And when Maddie ran out on her partner and child, Buck kept her secret.
3 separate flirty moments (shower introduction, cockring innuendo and bisexual coming out), clutching at each other covered in blood, secret pinky promises, and over 7 seasons they show over and over that they know one another best out of everyone.
Jonas/Martha:
what if we were relatives thanks to a time paradox, and also loved each other so much we tried to destroy the timeline. and also died for/because of each other
They are So Much in every way. They love each other so much but they are so tragic. Jonas was willing to erase himself from existence if it meant Martha could be happy again (he did not succeed, but still). They’re able to recognize older versions of each other who have time-traveled back. Jonas literally BREAKS TIME AND SPACE to get back to Martha’s time and save her life. Meanwhile, in another timeline, a Martha who never knew Jonas still sleeps with him within a week of their meeting. The baby they have is called The Origin (real name on the birth certificate), and he’s literally described as the most important baby in the universe. Martha CAUSES THE APOCALYPSE so she and Jonas can have this baby. They have an in-world cult dedicated to the two of them being together. They kill each other in one timeline. And at the end of it all, when they’ve become mortal enemies and lived through their own separate time loops, they just hold hands so they can die old and grey together.
I would like everyone to know that they LITERALLY call themselves Adam and Eve and they have a giant cathedral dedicated to them with Adam and Eve paintings on the walls. and their descendants AND ancestors literally come to worship them there bc they believe they will bring paradise on earth. Beginning and end, alpha and omega, two sides of the infinity sign come together. and for the incest Martha is Jonas’ aunt
“You and I are perfect together. Never forget that.” Jonas would never guess that his teenage crush would turn out to be his aunt. Or that their love and inability to let go of one another would cause them both to lose everyone they’ve ever loved, trap them in a time loop unable to change any of the tragedy that befalls them and their child, and trigger the literal apocalypse. But, hey, life is unpredictable.
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moeblob · 9 months ago
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Windy at my house + power flickering = no comm work = quick laptop doodle
#my characters#i genuinely hoped the wind would die down but like ??? nah?#and the last time we lost power without an actual storm it WAS bc of wind#and so i just get so panicked over please dont fry my tablet with a power surge#if it calms down by tonight i really wanna work on art since i spent almost all day yesterday struggling with a pose and i finally#think i thought of something that could work and then (gestures to the wind) fuck me#also in regards to these two you have seen me drawing deacon a lot recently and i only drew armya once so far#she is a devoted follower to fulj which is really rare since fulj no longer has a large following nor a temple#so when fulj finds her its comforting and reassuring and she adores armya a lot#however the fact that fulj relentlessly teases deacon and calls him names is like..... ok wait would you really be mean to me if it wasnt#for her ? like would you still pick on me? :c and shes like lol yeah dude absolutely#deacon is just constantly dunked on by the lightning group and hes so sad because he wanted to be friends :c#but also the guy wouldnt really recognize the followers if it wasnt for the traces of lady fulj#so if they would wander into the city without having been possessed recently he probably wouldnt even cast a glance their way#nothing personal he just straight up doesnt decipher looks fast at all#he could think they look familiar but then not know why ESPECIALLY if they wear something he's not used to them in#like if armya showed up in something other than her loose white jacket he would not be able to go AH YES ARMYA immediately#he identifies people by hair or clothing details so it kinda messes him up if people remove whatever identifying trait they have#long hair getting a hair cut? suddenly a whole new person#and armya knows this very well since he never looked her way unless fulj was possessing her or trailing her#so she does like to tease him as just. we are both in servitude to a deity and same rank but like. bro youre too easy to mock#(fulj agrees)
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flavia8 · 2 months ago
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Not to mention Kpop on main but...
Man, I'm genuinely sad at what happened/is happening with Seunghan, he literally did not deserve any of this. I genuinely hope he and the other members of Riize make it out okay because what the fuck.
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eyivibyemi · 1 year ago
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✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧
#This was literally just off the top of my head improvising words that rhyme (as is obvious from me rhyming the word#'on' with the word.... 'on' (what's going ON my name is ON' etc. lol) but after actually thinking about it this kind of seems a little#sinister?? why is his name on the news? why is he fleeing town? makes me think of of some guy who's killed#someone or is finally getting caught for his crimes so one last stop before he flees town is he returns home to his husband (who he#calls Hummingbird sometimes I guess) and is like 'erm... tee hee.. I can't tell you why but I shall leave. farewell' etc.#also 'I guess I could show you' having a bad implication like.. yeah I COULD show you the dead bodies and evidence of my crimes#but I will spare you from that and simply let you live in ignorance (at least until you see the news at 10.. but I will be long gone by#then.. eating green beans somewhere lol).. ANYWAY.. 100% unintentional but you could actually almost read some sort of meaning#out of this one. until the green beans part ghhbjb.. I try so hard for everything to just be meaningless gibberish#that has no connection but I suppose sometimes a connection can be made. alas.. a perhaps accidentally Dark seeming song snippet#OR alternate theory. uhh... actually his name is on the news for a good reason. he donated all his money to charity and now#he's fleeing town just because he's embarassed to be publicly recognized.. a shy philanthropist OR an evasive murderer#BOTH versions of him like green beans. which is the truth? up to listener interpretation lol.. Also I#still find it immensely funny for some reason to do this lower sounding style of singing. which not that I really care about like having a#Broad Range or something since I don't think it'd even be possible to have one in my position (as someone#with zero musical/vocial training/etc.) BUT because part of what I find fun is like.. experimenting with all different sorts of sounds#and also doing choir type stuff. So then I do want to be able to sound like multiple people.. if that makes sense? I want to have a really#high voice and the a really low voice and have them sing together and it sounds like a duet or something when it's really just one person.#etc. Thus have a passing interest in learning to adopt different singing styles if I can. because then that's funny and I can do a wider#variety of things like it's all different characters or something as if all the song snippets are done by different people or etc.#(maybe just part of the nature of it being experimental).#And the low voice is always the goofiest sounding to me and very 'fake' seeming I guess#like blatantly is just someone putting on an affect or whatever but still in a kind of fun jokey way lol#beepo tag
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queer-spectre · 2 years ago
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i have an appt to start the process of legally changing my name this week and i'm !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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followerofmercy · 1 month ago
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Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide
This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.
How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:
The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours
It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people
Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.
Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.
Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)
The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.
It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share
You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.
You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*
If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people
So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.
Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit
Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen
Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **
General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.
Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something
Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill
* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them
** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone
Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty
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ncteez · 6 days ago
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M.I.L.F. (Make It Last Forever) ― L.DH
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Haechan, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own.  You.  Or the one where Haechan was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need. 
minors dni 
PAIRING ― lee haechan  x afab milf!reader  
WORDCOUNT― 18.9k
CONTENT―  age gap: reader is 31  and haechan is 24, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy haechan (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and haechan really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! haechan just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet 
!WARNINGS! ―  age gap, haechan is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits 
NOTE ― this was written for jay from enhypen over on my other blog, but i am gifting it to you guys here as well! I WROTE THEM BOTH!!!! NOT PROOF READ.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― thick big dick haechan, small instant dubious consent, tit obsessed haechan, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish,pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s haechan doing stuff to you,  this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and haechan fucking loves it.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 
It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of highschool. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 
 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 
It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 
At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 
Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a downpayment on her own first house. 
Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.
Time changes things. 
Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.
The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Haechan, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 
Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Haechan, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 
You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Haechan, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Haechan actually is. 
He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 
Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 
Haechan. 
Since fucking when was that his name?
“Lee Donghyuck.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Donghyuck?” 
“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Haechan more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”
He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 
Haechan doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boytoys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.
He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Haechan has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 
Until you. 
He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 
If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.
 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only twelve back then, but he’s a man now. 
Twenty four and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Haechan is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 
And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.
You’re a single mom. 
A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.
He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft stories when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. Even at twelve, he was a scaredy cat.
 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.
Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.
God, how are you still single? 
Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?
You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 
The point is– Haechan wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 
“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 
“Well, actually,” Haechan offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.
You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 
Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.
“I’m not interested, Donghyuck.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 
Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?
“Interested in what?” Haechan tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 
 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 
Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 
“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Haechan is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.
God, it’s so awkward.
“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 
“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 
Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Haechan, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.
The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 
“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 
For a second you consider that too.
And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 
The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 
And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Donghyuck and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 
So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Haechan sees it. 
You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.
Haechan is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.
And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 
“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 
“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 
You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 
“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 
“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 
Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 
“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Haechan ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 
“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Donghyuck. And for the fence too.” 
He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 
“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 
“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?” 
“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”
“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.
“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s a little too perfect, actually.
After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 
It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.
Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.
He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.
Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.
And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?
In short, Haechan is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.
In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 
He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 
It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 
He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 
And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.
Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 
He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 
Fuck, if only you knew. 
And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Haechan isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 
She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 
For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Today, you’re more thankful for Haechan than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.
He was so understanding when you called,  happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.
It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 
To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 
In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.
His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.
“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 
Haechan shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 
“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 
Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 
But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?
And you’re dressed like that?
And you’re…
God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 
This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.
“Thank you, Donghyuck,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 
He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 
A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 
Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.
“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 
Ah, lip gloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 
“It’s no problem.” Haechan relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 
Hah. Permission.
“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 
And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.
It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 
You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 
And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 
And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Haechan hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Haechan little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 
Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 
And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 
He’s truly pathetic for you. 
This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 
Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.
Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!
Click.
Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 
In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-scream of “Shit, fuck–”
Haechan looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 
His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 
You’ve been with a man. 
He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–
“You’re late.” He says shortly.
“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”
“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”
You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 
You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 
“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 
Haechan fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.
He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.
“You’ve been kissing?” Haechan tries to ask nonchalantly. 
“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 
Haechan watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 
“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.
“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”
Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?
“It’s for the better–” Haechan says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his facade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.
“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 
He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 
“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 
If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 
“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 
He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 
Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 
“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.
“Donghyuck–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 
In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 
Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 
“Only because you make it weird.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline.”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 
“You’ve seen it.”
You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Donghyuck. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 
Haechan sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 
“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”
“Donghyu–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”
A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Haechan is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 
“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”
You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Donghyuck. You can’t. 
You really, really, can’t. 
The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 
“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”
“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 
You’re shocked. 
“She…what?”
“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Haechan shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 
“Donghyuck, that’s not–”
“That’s not, what?”
“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 
“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”
“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”
“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 
“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.
“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”
You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 
“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 
It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.
“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 
And truthfully, Haechan has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.
“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 
“God, Haechan.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Donghyuck at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Haechan.
“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”
“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”
God, he’s right. 
“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 
Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.
A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 
You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 
To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Haechan has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.
“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I do.” Haechan smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.
After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.
“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–
And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.
You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.
“Donghyuck.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 
He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 
“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 
It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 
Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 
“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 
Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Donghyuck, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 
Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 
Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 
Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 
Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 
Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 
“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Donghyuck.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 
“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 
Why not?
Why not?
Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was twelve years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.
“Uncle Donghyuck.” You finally corrected her again. 
She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 
And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Haechan back. 
Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, instead he crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 
You hold your breath when she runs to Haechan, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 
Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Haechan. In fact, the only time she ever does is when she had a bad day at daycare or had a tummy ache. 
She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Haechan like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.
You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 
His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 
And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 
He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.
For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 
There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Haechan did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 
But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Haechan does a better job at it than you do. 
And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 
Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Haechan’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 
You do see it. 
But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Haechan’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Haechan knows that.
You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 
It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Haechan, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.
You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 
“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 
Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 
The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 
Double the pain.
And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 
And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 
Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Haechan as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Haechan does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.
That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Haechan has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.
Haechan has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 
Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 
His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 
Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.
What if you missed your chance? 
What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?
You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 
Some nights, Haechan does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.
Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.
Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 
“Dad said I can stay up late!” 
You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.
“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your cardigan, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Haechan, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.
Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 
This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Haechan has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 
Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Haechan gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 
And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 
Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 
“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 
“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Haechan reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”
The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 
You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Haechan is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.
“I’m really tired, Donghyuck.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”
And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 
Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 
His patience is running dry.
So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 
He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.
By the time Haechan gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 
You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 
Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Haechan knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 
Excuses, excuses, excuses. 
It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 
From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 
Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.
And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.
The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.
He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.
And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 
Right now will be the first time Haechan enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 
You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.
When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.
Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 
Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?
Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.
 It’s all Haechan. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 
And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Haechan swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.
Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.
He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?
“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”
“D–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.
He’s fighting for you.
“Isn’t that what you want?!”
“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 
“What ar-”
“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”
You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…
Well…
“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?
Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.
He’s desperate. 
Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.
You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–
You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.
“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 
You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 
You were still a child, and time changes things.
Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?
Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 
“Donghyuck–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 
He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.
You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.
Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.
“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 
How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 
Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.
 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.
In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 
And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 
This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.
  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 
After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Haechan. He wants to take care of you? 
He wants to…give you what you need?
Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need.You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.
And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.
“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 
You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.
And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.
Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.
“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”
Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 
He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 
And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.
His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 
There. There it is.
A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.
“You like this?” Haechan asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”
You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 
And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 
“Jesus, Haechan–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 
That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Haechan thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 
And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.
 Finally. 
Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.
He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 
“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”
You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 
“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 
“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 
“Swell you up, make you glow–”
Oh. 
Why is that– why are you dripping?
He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.
“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”
You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.
“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 
“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 
He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 
He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 
“Say something.” Haechan whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”
You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.
Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 
But you’re not. 
You do like it raw.
“Haechan–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”
He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.
“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 
He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.
“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 
You repeatedly shake your head. 
“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”
“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.
As if to give you everything. 
And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 
You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 
Haechan though…how can you keep telling him no?
How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 
Fuck now, think later.
“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”
You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 
 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.
“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  
Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 
And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Haechan than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.
He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 
He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 
And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 
You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.
“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 
You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, dark, needy. 
“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 
“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.
Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 
And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 
A fucking mother.
The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.
And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 
Haechan doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 
When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 
He just can’t.
And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 
That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 
Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.
When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 
“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 
Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 
The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 
Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.
“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 
Hard.
Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 
“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”
You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 
You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 
Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all too happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 
He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 
More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 
And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 
“Mama–” Haechan soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”
You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–
He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 
Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 
“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 
“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”
Oh, he’s fucking gone.
“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 
Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 
“Yes, daddy–” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 
“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”
And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 
It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 
Haechan is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 
And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 
You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 
Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.
He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.
Haechan never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Haechan mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 
Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Haechan’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 
He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 
“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 
You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.
There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.
He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 
“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 
His eyes narrow at you.
“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”
You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 
“Congratulations, by the way.”
He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.
“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 
“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”
You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.
If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 
“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 
Haechan glares, blinking up at you.
“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 
That’s fair. 
“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 
“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”
Silence for a moment.
“Maybe even more than I love you.” 
You really, really, want to believe him.
So, you do. 
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sakuravalelp · 5 months ago
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Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT
The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.
All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.
The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.
Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.
Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.
As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.
After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.
"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary
"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine
It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.
"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:
the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.
People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.
As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:
"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."
Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.
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star-anise · 6 months ago
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Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.
Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:
That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)
It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.
Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.
To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.
It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.
When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.
Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.
There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.
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libraryofgage · 1 month ago
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so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing
basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems
anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is
also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao
also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't
---
"You're going to fail my class, Munson."
"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.
Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."
He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."
"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"
"Not the first time."
Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."
"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.
"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."
"What student?"
"His name is Steve."
Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.
He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.
"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"
"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."
Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."
--------
On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.
One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.
Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.
He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.
Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.
What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.
"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.
Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.
The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"
Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.
Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.
"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"
"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.
"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."
"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."
"You could've just memorized that."
Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."
Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."
"1,617."
He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."
"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"
"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."
"You don't know Newton's laws?"
Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.
"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"
"It's just...some equation or some shit."
Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"
"What?"
"What do you like?"
Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."
Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"
"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."
Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."
"A what?"
"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."
Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."
"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"
"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."
"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."
"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.
"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."
"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.
"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"
"Yeah, kind of the whole point."
"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"
"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"
Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."
"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."
"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."
"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."
Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"
"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."
"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."
"By...strumming it?"
"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."
He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."
Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."
"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"
"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.
Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."
"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.
"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."
"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."
"Why not?"
"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."
"Does anyone else know, though?"
"My parents and the teachers. And you."
"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."
"Big boy?"
"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.
Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.
He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."
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talkingattumble · 1 year ago
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Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!
YOU CANT
You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.
“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.
“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.
“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.
“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.
“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.
“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?
“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.
“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.
“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.
“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.
“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.
These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?
If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.
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eddiesxangel · 1 year ago
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If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to
Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader
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AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫
WC: 3.2k
It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed. 
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Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute. 
Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye. 
The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading
His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...
Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him. 
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You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back. 
You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going. 
After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into. 
You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed. 
Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room. 
A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again. 
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Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.
You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.
"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement. 
“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face. 
It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings. 
You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.
As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about. 
You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader. 
Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room. 
You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something? 
Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.
"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.
"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were? 
“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.
“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.
“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.
“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.
Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.
“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.” 
“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby” 
Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud. 
“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away. 
“We are so doing that again” he breathed. 
A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump. 
“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game. 
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taegimood · 4 months ago
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🙋‍♀️ Hi
Your hybrid fics/thoughts are so good 😣 Can I request puppy or penguin Kai pleeeeaaaase 🥺
thank you !!!!!! indeed you can 👀
mixed breed puppy hybrid!kai whose half retriever side is so predominant 🤧 floppy ears and fluffy black tail that’s always wagging and knocking into things cuz he doesn’t recognize his own size, the clumsiest but sweetest boy..
you were only planning on looking when you visited the hybrid adoption center, but the minute you saw kai and his bright shy smile, you just couldn’t resist 🥺
he’d be so adorably awkward at first, unsure of what to do with himself but still excited as he observes the apartment with wide eyes and a thumping tail, staying by the entrance shifting his weight around on his feet before you tell him that it’s okay to relax and go look around.
he’s so attentive and polite when you walk him through everything, nodding along and giving you his complete attention, eyes lighting up when you show him the space you just prepared for him;
you apologizing that it isn’t much yet since you hadn’t exactly planned on bringing anyone home and promising to spruce it up and buy him lots of things, but he’s quickly shaking his head and insisting that no, no, it’s perfect!!!!
your heart swells at how grateful he is over the littlest things and you definitely do end up buying him lots of stuff anyway <33
despite his shy n awkward nature at first, the two of you would end up bonding quickly.
you realize that he’s actually pretty mature and even have to assure him teasingly that he doesn’t need to be so polite all the time (which causes a blush to spread across his cheeks as he nods sheepishly) and soon he’s able to fall into a comfortable rhythm with you.
he’d loooove nuzzling his head against your tummy, and you wouldn’t even have to pet him for him to be satisfied — he just enjoys any contact and will happily slump against the squishiest parts of you that he can find.
he also loves your thighs for this reason and there have definitely been times you’ve had to quickly ease him off of you when he’d get his face a little too close to your crotch; he’s not sure why you’re moving him or why your cheeks are suddenly so red, but he’ll reposition himself if that’s what you want! 🤷🏻‍♀️
now despite kai having grown happily used to his new life with you by now, there’s one topic of conversation that has him feeling all awkward and shy all over again, and that’s the conversation that he’s trying to approach you with today —
your gentle giant towering over you innocently as he patiently waits for you to finish up what you’re doing, shifting his weight around on his feet the same way he did when you first brought him home;
“what’s up, hyuka? everything okay?”
he looks up from the floor with a start when you address him and smiles nervously.
“o-oh! um, yeah.. i just.. was wondering if we can talk about something?”
his fingers play with one of the napkins on the table after the two of you sit down, twisting and tearing it into little bits until you gently prod -
“hyuka? what is it, honey?”
he blushes at the pet name (secretly he loves it when you call him that) and finally meets your eyes.
“um, well… i needed to talk to you about.. uh… my.. m-my rut.”
you blink in surprise; that isn’t what you were expecting. to be honest, you hadn’t even thought about it before, still learning the ropes of what it means to care for a hybrid yourself.
as he explains in embarrassment that he can feel it coming soon and that he needed to let you know, you take note of how well he seems to be keeping himself under control — if his rut really is around the corner, you wouldn’t have even been able to tell — and you have to admit that when he brings up the mention of the breeding centers that he had heard people back at the adoption center talk about, you feel a twinge of uncertainty in your chest.
uncertainty, and… something else that you can’t quite place.
“hmm..”
he observes the slight furrow in your brow as you think for a moment. are you upset? is he being too much of a hassle?
but his momentary insecurity melts away when you finally respond,
“i’m just a little worried about sending you there for so long… i mean, it’s just a week or so, but.. i want to make sure you’re getting all the care that you need. it makes me nervous that i won’t be there to help.”
you don’t realize what you said until you said it.
kai’s head cocks to the side, confused. “help? how?”
“uh.. i just meant…” you’re lost for words. “well, i don’t really know what i meant.”
you can see the wheels turning in his brain as well as the realization when it dawns, and you wish a black hole would open up and swallow you when his head cocks the other way and he says,
“oh! you mean… you could be my breeding partner?”
if you’d had a drink in hand, you would’ve choked on it.
his words send a slew of images rushing through your mind, face heating up as you to try to push them away; you can’t think about your precious kai like this !!!
“w-well, t-that’s not exactly what i.. um… i mean, there are lots of other owners who.. uh.. who do that. but i wasn’t saying that-!”
you panic your way through an explanation, brows lifting as kai’s tail actually begins to.. wag.
his cheeks are pink as he sits there staring at you, even though you finished speaking, tail lightly thumping and the fabric of his pants bunching in his hands as they rest on his thighs.
it’s as if he can’t control his body’s reaction to your words and he knows it.
“uh… kai?”
his blush grows even deeper.
now it’s your turn to realize something as you observe him, before asking carefully,
“hyuka.. do you.. like that idea?”
and that, my friends, is how you guys came to the bizarre agreement that you would be the one to help kai through his rut.
the rest of that week would be kind of awkward, to be honest — kai still insanely embarrassed about admitting that he’d prefer it if you were the one in his bed, and you, well… you just find yourself dealing with desires that you didn’t even know you had, and didn’t even know if you were allowed to have.
but that awkwardness quickly comes to a forced end when you’re getting ready for bed one night, taking your time since it’s finally the weekend, having just slipped into your little tank top and sleep shorts set when you hear a thunk against your bedroom door.
you pause.
silence.
“hyuka..?” you call. more silence, but you swear you can hear the faintest sound of a groan come from the other side.
“kai? honey?”
you’re about to head for the door when it slowly swings open, your eyes widening at the sight of your hybrid slumped heavy against the doorframe, and you’ve never realized how broad his chest is until now as it heaves up and down with labored breaths.
his gaze is cloudy, a sheen of sweat coating his skin, dark hair falling into his eyes that are currently raking over your body — these clothes are the most revealing he’s ever seen on you, and you almost gasp at the low growl that forms quietly at the back of his throat.
“k-kai.. is it time..?”
he nods weakly, and you can tell how hard he’s trying to hold himself together.
you take a deep breath. you’ve never done this before, but you’re ready to give him whatever he needs. “okay. let’s go to your room.”
you’ve never felt so many sensations at once. the way kai grinds his body against you hungrily, hips pushing against yours, kissing and licking up and down your neck and tits as he groans — encasing you fully underneath his large frame as you try to keep up with his eager ministrations.
while you can tell that he is getting a little bit of relief, you can also tell that he’s still massively holding himself back (you’ll see just how much soon enough) and it takes everything in you to keep your own moans at bay as you assure him,
“hyuka- f-fuck- hyuka, i-it’s okay. just- just let go.”
his grinding is getting more desperate now, the bed starting to rattle and pants and whines falling from his lips as he protests, “d-don’t.. don’t wanna... hurt you…!”
you can feel his leaking cock throbbing against your thigh and can only imagine how painful it must be. when you take his face in your hands to make him look at you, there’s a wild look in his eyes, something feral on the verge of snapping — and you’re gonna let it.
“kai,” you breathe. “just let go.”
and so he does.
you’ve never been fucked so animalistic in your life, the hugeness of his form finally coming into play, the deep growls and snaps of his jaw that you never would’ve imagined your hyuka to be capable of; and yet here you are, fucked completely dumb on your hybrid’s cock as he’s got you pinned and marked and knotted over and over and over and over again as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to do.
in his case, you’re his mate made to be manhandled, and it’s safe to say that by the end of his week-long rut you’re completely and utterly spent.
unable to even keep your eyes open as soon as it finally passes, the two of you exhausted as kai cuddles you as close as possible, gently licking and kissing at all the bites and marks he’d left behind, nuzzling his face in your hair as his cock slowly, finally, begins to soften inside of you.
you would probably sleep for a few days after that; kai taking such good care of you and treating you so sweetly with the softest touches as he tends to your bruises and keeps you all cleaned up and comfy.
i guarantee that after that first rut there’d be this deep unspoken bond formed between the two of you that makes you inseparable 🤧
all kai wants to do is love and protect you; your big strong sweet puppy who aims to make your life just as lovely as you’ve made his <333
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bbangtans · 9 months ago
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daybreak | jjk | oneshot
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Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.
pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional rating/warnings: M | alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t be all willy nilly with this tho!!!), dig bick jk lmfao, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, multiple orgasms. a/n: inspired by my faaaaaave movie before sunrise bc if there’s anything namjoon and i have in common, it’s that we are yearners 🤝 and SURPRISE! she's here a lil earlier than promised <3 word count: ~10.1k
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The longest string of curses you ever muttered in your life escaped your lips as your tense eyes focused on the words CANCELED obnoxiously displayed on the monitor indicating the status of your flight, which was supposed to take you back to the comfort of your home in Seoul. This is ignoring the fact that you also had a big presentation to prepare for a client but you got pulled into this conference last minute by your boss – lucky you. 
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry. Unfortunately, all flights have been temporarily suspended due to emergency maintenance as a result of the aircraft recall. The most I can offer is to book you on the next available flight scheduled…” The poor airline employee offered with an apologetic smile. You stepped back as you realized this very employee had to face the brunt of the crowd who also suffered the same fate as you. 
You swallowed your anger, empathetic to this person who was merely a messenger. “Okay, when is the next flight?”
“It will be tomorrow at 10:15AM. That’s the earliest we can do, unfortunately. I can have you booked on that flight and you’ll have the details emailed to you shortly.” 
Sighing, you nodded your head. “Cool, thank you… but will the airline be able to provide a place to stay since –”
You were cut off by an angry – and entitled – middle-aged woman. “Excuse me but what is the airline going to do about this? I’m supposed to be in Seoul by 10PM on the 24th. How is this airline going to ensure that? Do you know how much I paid for this?”
You were at your wits end as you watched other passengers try to come down on the woman as you walked away. At least you were in “The City that Never Sleeps” so finding something to do won’t be that difficult. You jerked your carry-on bag along as you tried to exit from the commotion of your gate however you did not get far as you were stopped by someone who stood before you amongst another fleet of passengers dealing with the same issue as your flight. You recognized that signature, worn leather jacket and stickered guitar case from miles away.
“Jungkook?”
The call of his name pulled him back into reality as it appeared as though he himself was checking if this was actually happening. Your mind started racing as you couldn’t help the shock that washed over you. So many questions flashed by as his surprised gaze met yours.
“Hey…” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “...Having flight issues too?”
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Sitting at a coffee shop in the terminal across from each other, it was… awkward, you both could not deny. 
Jungkook cradled his iced americano while your now empty vanilla latte cup rested there. A funny representation of both of your approaches to life. It was also a point of teasing that Jungkook previously used to his advantage during the days of shared kisses and intimate dates. Times when you and Jungkook would lie shoulder to shoulder on a bed of grass in open fields and wish upon shooting stars.
“This sucks, doesn’t it?” You tried to break the ice, seeing Jungkook’s uncharacteristic silence. Perhaps these years have changed you both.
“The flight thing or us sitting across from each other like this?” Jungkook cracked and you let out a breath of laugh. 
Toying with your empty cup, you nodded at nothing in particular. “Definitely the flight thing, and regarding right now… not sure. But I can’t lie that it’s nice to see a familiar face amid this chaos.”
His shoulders slacked as if tension melted away and Jungkook sat up more confidently in his seat. “Yeah, I bet. And wait…” He paused before leaning towards you in surprise. “Are you here in NYC alone? What brings you here?”
You waved off his worry, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “I came here for a 2-day work conference so I was strictly here on business.” Funny to think that reaction was almost impulse despite the passage of time between you both.
“Have you been to New York before? Did you at least get a chance to explore the city after your conference?”
“No, and no, honestly. It took a lot out of me and the company is pinching pennies by only giving me a short window here outside of the conference. What about you, what brings you here? Is this your first time stuck here?” You rested your head on your hand that was propped up on the table.
Jungkook’s unforgettable grin made its appearance as he noticed your growing ease at the situation. “The band’s here on tour. We’re about to start our Europe leg but of course… shit had to hit the fan with the airplane scandals. And nope, this is our third time in New York. We were first here on tour a couple of years ago.” 
You smiled at this. ���That’s right. I’m sure you’re a seasoned professional being on the road and all with the SNAFUs that come up… Congrats though, I hear the band has really taken off. You guys deserve all the success.”
“You don’t know how much that means to me,” Jungkook started, grinning wide as ever. “No seriously, it means a lot coming from you.”
“You’re messing with me.” You frowned in jest.
“No, not at all. You were that push to get my head on straight, y’know? Even before we … ended things… you were one of the few people who genuinely believed in us. And I can’t thank you enough for that.”
Feeling your face get warm, you shook your head in a humble gesture. “I only saw and believed in the obvious. I mean look at you guys now, touring the US and now even Europe? This success was all in the making.”
“But enough about the band! How’re you? Being all professional going abroad on conferences and stuff. What are you up to?” Jungkook took a sip from his Americano where the ice had become significantly smaller.
“I’m a product manager, and so that keeps me busy 9-5 on the weekdays.” You joked. “But other than that, just floating along. Hanging out with friends, taking life a day at a time, y’know? I’m nowhere as interesting as you, Mr. Rock Star… Living in LA and all.”
Jungkook laughed as he slipped off his leather jacket and revealed an entire sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. You eyed them curiously as he had always talked about wanting tattoos in your younger days. It was good to see that he was able to have that aspiration come to fruition. Another reminder of the passage of time between you both.
“Don’t say that, I think you’re one of the coolest people ever. No one approaches life the way you do, Taehyung-hyung might be a close second… but he doesn’t have the flare that you do.” He started then his smile turned slightly void as he followed up. “Would it be awkward to ask how things are with…”
“...Who? Oh, Seokjin?” You casually asked, truthfully you had not said that name since your eventual breakup almost a year ago. TL;DR you both weren’t compatible because you weren’t ready to settle down for whatever reason despite him being ready to take you both to city hall at the drop of a hat. “Uh… we ended things a while ago actually.”
“Right, yeah,” Jungkook responded vaguely. “Sorry if that was weird, it’s just that he and Yoongi-hyung are friends and you haven’t come up in a while whenever Hyung mentions him but sorry if I’m prying and sorry if I am especially making this awkward but –” He was rambling. Cute.
“Jungkook,” You rested a hand on his forearm, ignoring the surge of electricity that unknowingly jolted you both. “I get it, no worries.”
You both couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your faces.
“So what about you? Seeing anyone?”
He looked almost offended by the question but brushed it off. “Me? Nope, life’s been too hectic with the band these past two years to be seriously involved with someone.”
“Uh huh,” you mused before Jungkook cocked his brow in confusion at your response.
“What?”
“‘Seriously involved’? So you have been dabbling in some rockstar tendencies.” You wiggled your eyebrows teasingly. The 21-year-old in you aches, but today you are 28 and not exactly that same old person as before. 
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I don’t want to discuss that with you of all people. And besides, we haven’t made it to the big leagues yet. We’re just tadpoles in a lake, we still gotta work our way to bigger waters.”
You only laughed, and Jungkook let you with his arms folded over his chest – basking in this moment he never thought would happen.
However, it was interrupted as an aproned barista approached you both, being the only patrons left as the coffee shop was getting ready to close for the day. The freckled teen awkwardly cleared his throat with a broom in hand. You then observed the fact that the chairs were already perched upon tables – a clear sign that the establishment was closed for business. You both hadn’t realized how much time had passed in chatting. “Hello, I’m sorry but we’re closing for the day. You are welcome to take your drinks with you to the gates though.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No worries, my bad.”
You and Jungkook apologized at the same time while hurriedly gathering your belongings. 
Walking out, Jungkook sighed as he held the handle of his guitar case in his tattooed hand. “I can’t believe a place in the airport closes at fucking 5PM.”
“Jungkook, it’s a coffee shop. Closing at 5PM is considered late for that industry already and besides, this isn’t Seoul.” You laughed.
“True… but…” Jungkook cast you a sideways glance. “What are you going to do until your flight tomorrow morning?”
You could only shrug. “Not sure, I was just going to camp out here at JFK.”
A moment of silence passed as you both walked on in no particular direction, only the sound of the wheels of your carry-on suitcase and the heavy footsteps from Jungkook’s combat boots. Despite the 7 years that passed, you could still tell Jungkook was mulling over something. This fact honestly surprised you.
“Penny for your thoughts?” You offered gingerly.
“Now, this is going to sound crazy,” he spoke, his mind clearly running miles a minute and barely able to keep his once stable walking pace. “Hear me out all the way through, okay?”
“Sure.” You shrugged.
“So, my manager got each of us a hotel room not too far from the airport –”
“Jungkook.” You interrupted him incredulously, on the verge of seeing red. Offense, disrespect, anger… it all pulsed through you at once. By this point, you both had stopped in the middle of the wide airport corridor between gates. “Are you fucking serious –”
He held his hands up in defense. “You said you would hear me out!”
“...fine.” Arms crossed over your chest defensively, and you took a step back.
“Like I said, I have this hotel room so what if we kept our stuff there and we explore NYC tonight? Then when morning comes, you could grab your things and head back to Seoul and get back to your routine.” Jungkook now positioned himself where he stood directly before you, eyes connected to yours. “You said it yourself you didn’t get to see NYC. And I’ve been here before, so it all works out.”
You obviously still looked unconvinced with arms crossed over your chest defensively. 
“Okay, how about this: there’s a Smart Carte baggage drop-off in Terminal 4 of JFK. Forget stopping by my hotel room, you can drop off your things here so by morning we can both be here for our flights. I’ll be on my way to Vienna and you’ll be headed back to Seoul. How does that sound?” Jungkook negotiated. “Listen, Y/N. It’s just been so nice to hang out with you and I don’t know but there’s something in me that can’t pass up this opportunity to at least help you see the magic of NYC… and to spend a few more hours with you.”
“I…”
Jungkook stepped forward with a pleading stare. “Please, I promise it’ll be worth your while. I feel like you would regret this not happening as much as I would. And if it convinces you, I promise that we can forget that this night ever happened after the fact. I swear…”
A smirk broke out on your face after a tense beat of silence and mulling over his words. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Jungkook could not fight the smile that reached his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief and then turned, gesturing for you to start off what would be your journey of the evening together.
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By the time you both made it into Manhattan proper, it was prime dinner time. You felt the grumble of your stomach as you and Jungkook sat in the back seat of an iconic yellow taxi. Embarrassedly, you put your hand over your stomach in a feeble attempt to keep it quiet. 
“So, y’all are headed to Katz’s?” The taxi driver asked as he glanced at the two of you through the rearview mirror. He was an elderly man wearing a newsboy cap and the taxi itself smelled of the endless cups of coffee he consumed during his day on the clock. 
“Yup, we’re hoping the dinner rush isn’t as bad,” Jungkook responded in a friendly manner. “It may be a Tuesday but it’s Katz’s after all.”
The driver chuckled as the traffic was beginning to chip away and the taxi started to speed up on the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you watched the city sky begin its transition into an orangey-pink sunset. “I’m assuming this fella over here has been to the City before, but is this your first time, Miss?”
You nodded your head. “Yes, actually I came for a conference but have limited time here.”
“Oh? When do you head back to…” he trailed off, not sure how to continue the sentence.
Jungkook took the chance to chime in. “Seoul… in Korea. She heads back tomorrow actually.”
The driver let out a low whistle. “That’s a crazy turnaround time. But listen, New York is a magical place – despite whatever those bozos not even from the city have to say. It has character, and so much can happen in the City that Never Sleeps. It is a land of possibility. And here, thirty years ago, is actually where I met the woman who became my wife. It’s a special place, for sure.”
“I bet.” Jungkook grinned as he looked out the drawn window, taking in the newly warm springtime breeze. 
Jungkook let you take the ride in silence, unsure of what was going through your head about this whole situation and in all honestly cursing himself for possibly pressuring you into doing something you weren't comfortable with in the first place. He kept casting cautious glances your way when you weren’t looking. 
Eventually, the taxi came to a halt. 
“Alrighty, here we are!” The driver pulled up on the busy intersection and you were in awe by the throngs of people despite it being one of the earlier weekdays and the very end of rush hour. Jungkook paid for the ride and ushered you both out of the taxi respectfully.
“Thank you for the ride!” You called out as you exited the vehicle.
“Enjoy New York and all she has to offer!” the driver bid you two before driving off to find his next patron of the evening. 
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Jungkook almost choked mid-bite of the huge signature pastrami sandwich you both decided to split as you continued to share about that one time your mutual friend back in Seoul, Hoseok, had accidentally cussed out an innocent employee at a haunted house. 
“No way.” He barely managed to get out between his mix of coughs and laughs, grabbing the attention of worried customers inside the establishment. He grabbed his cup of water to ease his throat.
“Yes, way! Afterward, he kept bowing in apology. I felt so bad but Namjoon and I were too busy laughing to step in to help.” You put your spoon down, making a good decision to not have a bite of the shared chicken noodle soup as you giggled at the memory. 
Once Jungkook calmed down and took a sip of his water, he looked at you in amusement. “Classic Hobi.”
“I know right? But regardless, he’ll always be an angel. Despite that, he doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body.” 
Jungkook nodded in agreement. “I miss that guy a lot, man.”
You smiled up at him. “He misses you, too – I’m sure.”
He rested his sandwich on the plate. “Let me know if I’m being weird… but I missed this.”
Your smile faltered as it grew slightly wary. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, genuine. “I just feel like you’ve always been someone I easily get along with and y’know… considering our past and how things aren’t super awkward now. In all honestly, I thought you were just going to ignore me and keep walking away at the airport due to the possibility that you might’ve hated me… I wouldn’t have blamed you, though. I was a bit of an asshole when we ended things. And I am sorry about that. Genuinely.”
You could easily recall that night.
You looked at him, confused. “What?”
“I said I don’t think we should continue seeing each other.” Jungkook stood his ground despite the internal turmoil. “I… just feel like I’m holding you back.”
“You can’t be the only one to decide that, Jungkook.” His words finally started to settle in your bones and it felt like a thousand cuts.
“Listen, you deserve a lot more… and we both know that.” 
“Jungkook, you aren’t listening. You can’t just pre-emptively end things like this over something like that – not without discussing it with me too.” 
You tried to reason with him by resting a hand on his arm. He finally looked at you with tears in his eyes. You knew at that point, there was no talking him out of it. He firmly believed this was the right choice for you, no matter how inherently selfish he didn’t realize he was being. Being kind to a fault in true Jeon Jungkook fashion.
He was breaking up with you.
You smiled bittersweetly at the memory. “Yeah… that is a fair thought. But you know, we were young. Barely 21 years old. And while that was only 7 years ago, we were different people. I can’t imagine making the same decisions we did back then now.”
“I guess we were.” Jungkook offered, understanding that this was your way of accepting his apology. 
“And!” You picked up your spoon again to scoop yourself a spoonful of some chicken noodle soup. “That was before we had developed prefrontal cortexes. And besides, I could never hate you now… I finished with that when I turned 23.” You joked but he froze slightly at your words.
Jungkook made sure to make direct eye contact with you filled with something that could move mountains. “I never intended to hurt you, I really didn’t.”
Your tone also went serious yet understanding. “I know, I know now. And I appreciate you for telling me.”
Despite the bustle of that tiny deli in the middle of the dinner rush, all you could see was Jungkook and all he could see was you. The understanding weighing upon you both now.
“Thank you for also trusting me with taking you out tonight, that means a lot to me.”
“Me too.” You nodded up at him. “I doubt there’s anyone else who would be able to get me out here like this either. I can’t even remember the last time I pulled an all-nighter… it was probably when we were still in undergrad.” The two of you shared a laugh that was abruptly interrupted. 
“FINAL CALL! Final call for order number 72!” The person working the counter exclaimed with the order bill in his hands. No one went up to the counter so the employee shook his head to himself in disapproval before proceeding to keep it pushing. 
The scene had finally calmed so you turned to Jungkook expectantly. “Alright, we had dinner. So where are we headed now?”
Jungkook wiped the crumbs off his mouth with a napkin as he said, “One of my favorite bars in the city! The vibes are so nice and they often have open mic nights so you get to see some local talent”
“Sounds amazing.”
“Oh, it will be,” Jungkook promised.
“I have to go to the bathroom real quick before we head out, though.” You said as you got up. 
He nodded his head as he motioned for you to go. “Do what you gotta do.”
Inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom, unable to grasp how this whole thing could have happened. One second you are about to cry from how cruel the universe was to sitting at a historic deli with Jeon-freaking-Jungkook. 
Once you returned, you saw him writing on a napkin which he then folded up and placed in the pocket of his jeans at the sight of you approaching. 
“What’s that?”
“Just some thoughts for a possible song that came to me.” Jungkook got up and left some cash for the tip on the table. “C’mon. Let’s head to our next destination!”
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Sitting on the subway, thigh to thigh with Jungkook taking the aisle seat and you on the window seat, he told you that he doesn’t remember the name of this favorite bar but just how to get there. He said that, apparently, was all that mattered as you sat on the A Line train. Trying your best to ignore the close proximity due to the seat and Jungkook’s broad frame, you both took turns taking shy stolen glances at each other – hoping each other would notice just as much as you both wish you wouldn’t. The warm and slightly stagnant air made you both run a little hot, your cardigan resting in your lap and Jungkook’s leather jacket in his.
However, the car of the train started to get packed to the point where people had to step into the aisle right next to Jungkook. The sudden stops causing people to bump into the shaggy-haired singer. You scooted to be more flush against the wall of the car, motioning for Jungkook to get closer to avoid more hits from the rough ride and sudden backpack attack. He looked at you sheepishly as he accepted the invitation, where his arm went around the top of your seat and shoulders to make room for his wide build. 
“I hope this is okay.” He gave as he rested against you.
“Yeah, no worries.” You had a smile of reassurance that he mirrored.
It was hard to avoid each other eyes at this point. 
You wondered how long it had been since you were last nested against him and why you didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you thought you’d be despite all those years. However, this was no surprise as Jungkook always had that weird effect on you.
“Pardon me, is it cool if I stand here next to you?” A tall, handsome figure appeared from your left side. You peered over your shoulder at the sudden question. It was about an hour before Epik High was supposed to be on stage but you entered the venue early since you wanted a good place to stand on the floor. There were pockets of people but surely not enough where someone had to approach you and ask like that. 
Promptly, you had to bring yourself back to reality as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, sure… no worries.”
A bunny-toothed dazzling smile appeared and you watched as his eyes curiously traveled down to the long-sleeved tour shirt you held. A purchase to remember this concert. “Thanks. And oh! I was tempted to get that shirt too. It’s pretty sick.”
Feeling a little self-conscious you avoided his fixed gaze, “Yeah. Their designer for this tour’s merch did an awesome job…”
Jungkook nodded mostly to himself, believing that he was making you uncomfortable. “Listen, sorry if I’m making this awkward but my name’s Jungkook, and I think you seem really cool. But if I’m bothering you, totally let me know and I can give you your space! No hard feelings or anything.”
You smiled at his frankness and shook your head at this. “No, no. Sorry, I think you seem cool too, and I don’t mind at all.” You said before giving your name as well.
“That’s a pretty name,” he responded. “It suits you.” 
You politely laughed off the subtle compliment. “Thank you, and I hope so.”
Steadily, you and Jungkook became deeply immersed in conversation – talking about how long you both had been fans of the artist, why you both ended up attending this concert alone, and getting to know each other generally. Most significantly, you found out that you both attended the same university and were the same age among the many things discussed. The conversation flowed comfortably after that initial interaction. That hour before showtime had passed so quickly that you hadn’t noticed how much the venue had filled up and gradually forced you and Jungkook to be shoulder to shoulder from how packed it had become. By the time the venue fell dark and signaling that Epik High was about to set foot on stage, the crowd had slightly pushed forward, forcing you to be closer than ever to Jungkook.
“Sorry, I hope this is okay.” He spoke sheepishly at the proximity.
“No worries.” You smiled at him and at that moment the pyrotechnics of the stage went off, as the concert began – strangely calm despite having only met the man not too long before and cheers erupting from the crowd that surrounded you. There was just something about him.
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There was always something so human (as cliche as it was) about open mic nights. People stand on stage and recite poems where they bare their souls or sing original songs written about the throes of life. A little appreciation for the small things that you and Jungkook shared. You both enjoyed the local buskers back in Seoul during undergrad, especially around springtime when things overall seemed brighter and full of life. 
You sat with your pineapple tequila as Jungkook went for his whiskey on the rocks, occasionally shaking the ice cubes around in the glass between sips. You both sat at a booth off to the side of the stage where you could get a decent view of the performers. 
“So…” Jungkook started.
You tore your gaze away from the current performer, a girl singing a cover of a Laufey song, to find Jungkook staring at you with a glint in his eye. “...So?”
“I’m honestly surprised you took my offer to spend time with me tonight – with some negotiating, of course but surprised nevertheless.” Jungkook chuckled as he took another sip of his drink. “What was it that convinced you?”
You toyed with a loose strand of hair in contemplation of his words. 
What did convince you? Was it the frustration from the flight fiasco? The fact that you were in New York for the first time? This was a question you only recently started to ponder because saying yes felt so right but you couldn’t explain why.
“I just trust you. And it’s been so long since we’ve been in the same place at the same time.” You began, noting how his eyes have softened at your words. “I honestly didn’t know what to think when you first stood there in front of me, y’know? I kind of thought I was hallucinating. I thought that maybe the stress from all the flight mess was getting to me. 
“I honestly never thought I would cross paths with you ever again, considering how the trajectory of our lives headed. You live in LA, working full-time on your music and touring. I live back in Seoul, where there’s always a deadline looming over me and I have to set off to meet some client. And besides…” You held his stare where there was a gentle smile on his face. “I knew I wanted to spend more time to catch up with you the second we sat back in that coffee shop at the airport.”
Relief and something else that you couldn’t place washed over his face. Was it regret? Was it longing? You didn’t know exactly but you felt his free hand reach for yours from across the booth. The calloused fingers of his hand from hours of playing guitar caressed yours as he stared at the way they connected. Still a perfect fit. Your first real bit of physical connection since that fateful day when you were both 21 and young and dumb and lost. 
“Yeah, me too.” Jungkook started. “But for me, it was the moment before you even saw me. When my eyes found you at the gate, I seriously couldn’t believe it.”
You laughed at this. “Well, I hope that time has done me well since you last saw me.”
Jungkook chuckled as well as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you kidding? You look phenomenal. I’m convinced you always will.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re trying to butter me up.” You joked but deep down, the intensity of the intimacy scared you. It was like a fireplace left dormant for so long had finally lit up. It surged through your whole body and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. You withdrew your hand back slowly and instantly regretted the coldness from the loss of contact. However, it frightened you with all things considered. “You’ve always been such a charmer.”
Jungkook’s expression faltered when you fully pulled back your hand but he tried his best to hide it. Holding your hand just felt so right, like it was the divine providence of the universe – written in the stars and made to fit. No other body could bring the warmth he felt from when he was around you. He was convinced that with your every step, flowers bloomed and skies cleared. He was always a goner for you, and that still stands true to this day. 
How funny the universe was, Jungkook thought to himself, that it could create someone so wonderful but have them exist on a different path from his. 
“Alright, alright! That was a fantastic cover from Gina. Let’s give her a round of applause, everyone!” The MC and presumed owner of the bar stepped on stage and spoke into the mic, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Now, we have a guest singer that I saw sign up, his name is JK Jeon. Let’s give him a warm welcome!”
You whipped your head to face a sheepish Jungkook finishing the last bits of his whiskey before he patted you on the head and headed towards the stage. “When did he…”
The leather-jacketed, confident lead singer Jeon Jungkook of Bring the Soul appeared before you as he adjusted the mic stand and introduced himself in perfect, unaccented English. “Hi everyone, my name is JK. I signed up because this is one of my favorite places in New York so I thought I’d sing something for you, especially because there’s also someone important here with me today.” 
His eyes locked with yours in that moment and you forgot to breathe for a second. He looked so otherworldly in that bar, he had the aura to make the dingiest stage look like some elaborate arena. He was born to perform.
Your second pineapple tequila arrived and it was a much heavier pour from the bartender. However, you were grateful as the surge of emotions overcame you. Everything was feeling surreal again and you definitely needed this drink despite being a little bit of a lightweight.
“So, this song is titled ‘seasons’ by a band called wave to earth. Hope you enjoy it.” 
With that, he signaled for the song to start and the first keys of a piano filled the dim bar. Not once did Jungkook’s eyes leave yours as he sang. You were absolutely bewitched as the song progressed, and so was the rest of the bar. A couple across the room embraced each other, two friends shared a toast of their drinks with a lively clank, and the bartender even paused to take in Jungkook’s singing… all these people were brought together by his undeniable talent. Your heart was so full and you were so proud, and distracted until you really started to listen to the lyrics of the song.
But I'll pray for you all the time
If I could be by your side
I'll give you all my life, my seasons
By your side, I'll be your seasons
My love
A thunderous applause surged through the bar as Jungkook thanked the audience and stepped off the stage fluidly before heading straight for the booth where you still sat. However, instead of sitting across from you, he slid into the bench where you were and settled right next to you.
“How was that?” Jungkook’s arm naturally went around your shoulders and you swore you were soaring. 
You rested your head on his bicep as you gazed up at him, and Jungkook was swooning at how adorable you looked then. The dim, soft lights make you look ethereal to him. “It was amazing, as always.”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
“Cool.” Jungkook stroked your hair as you continued to rest your head on his arm. He could tell you were beginning to feel your drinks in your system since you had long finished your two pineapple tequilas and were now babysitting a pint of beer. 
“Hey, Jungkook.” He barely caught it as you basically whispered it out. “Y’know, I’m going to be really sad about everything once morning comes.”
His eyes widened as he shared the same sentiments. “Yeah… me, too.”
“But!” You suddenly shot upright in posture and surprised him as you grabbed your drink by its handle. “None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.
Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out at the sudden shift in mood. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning time?”
“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”
“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.” You missed how tight-lipped his grin was. 
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
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“Alright, follow me!” Jungkook called from over his shoulder as he jogged to catch the door to the rooftop of some swanky highrise apartment complex that you two managed to sneak into. 
He held the door open for you, with his free hand exaggeratedly ushering you to go first like a medieval knight. “After you, m’lady.”
By this time, the alcohol had flushed out of your system on the twenty-minute walk Jungkook had brought you on after hearing about how much you wanted to see the skyline but didn’t want to pay a ridiculous amount for a view. And this is where it led you: on the lounge rooftop of a luxury apartment building. The twinkling lights of the city sparked beneath you. The haphazard spacing of the lights from nearby buildings were windows into the lives of the people who occupied the space. Then, you had the great Empire State Building literally blocks away, its spire brightly illuminating the night. To your right, there was a patch of darkness that was Central Park. 
You were breathless at the sight before you. Suddenly, you felt connected with every fiber of your being. The light midnight breeze that swam between your loose strands of hair felt like a glass of fresh water as it revitalized you. There you were, in New York City – looking at it from a bird’s eye point of view. Nothing could have ever prepared you for this. 
You then felt Jungkook stand close next to you as he bumped his shoulder with yours playfully. “How is it?”
“It’s so beautiful.” It took everything in you to tear your gaze away from the view to look at Jungkook. “How did you know about this place?”
He snickered mischievously. “One of the label’s former execs used to live in this building. He used to talk about it all the time and I couldn’t help but remember it. Glad it lived up to all the talk though, it is gorgeous up here.”
And with that, he began to walk over to the outdoor couch hidden behind the privacy of a cabana in front of a fire pit. He turned it on effortlessly before plopping down on the couch right beside the glass-protected edge of the building for what you assumed to be a maximum viewing experience. You followed and sat down, his arm naturally finding its way wrapped behind your shoulders. 
“I never thought I would be able to experience something like this,” you marveled at the night skyline with an at-ease smile on your face, letting your body fit into a nook created by Jungkook’s. “Never would I think feeling so small like this would be so comforting. I don’t regret this at all.”
Absentmindedly, Jungkook’s hand began to play with one of the strands of your hair. “Yeah, same. I regret a lot of things, but this definitely wouldn’t be one – not by a long shot.”
“Oh? Like what kind of regrets?” You asked him, scared to look into his eyes at that moment. 
“Letting my insecurities and tendencies for perfectionism get the best of me. There were so many times when it got in the way of being present. Whether it be with the band, my life… and you.” His hand froze as he cleared his throat. “I regret letting you go. And I feel like the biggest idiot on the face of the earth, y’know? I thought that I had to be successful to be worthy of your love. To be worthy of someone so utterly beautiful inside and out. You were truly my morning light. And I hurt you. I hurt you because I was insecure and so lost in my head.” He blew out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “And Y/N, I can’t even begin to explain how much it kills me to sit here with you knowing I did that. And I think that’s because my heart will always be yours, y’know. And I know I’m rambling but I’ve been meditating on this for the past few years because it always bothered me to hear how great and peachy things were for you with that Seokjin guy from Yoongi-hyung, I… don’t know…”
You sat up and finally made eye contact with Jungkook at his confession, resting a comforting hand on his chest. “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” You whispered as Seokjin stood before you under a streetlight at the park not too far from his apartment. 
“My love, I just can’t do this anymore. I love you so much but it’s time we both be honest.” Seokjin reached for your gloved hand. It was the tail end of autumn and the first signs of winter were beginning to make its appearance. “I don’t think we should meet anymore.”
Tears lined your eyes but the rush of the emotion present was so foreign to you. You knew you should have been sadder and while you were sad... However, at that point, you realized that you were more sorrowful about losing Seokjin as a person in your life than your actual romantic relationship ending. That’s when it hit you, the tears falling. “How did you…”
“My love, you're one of the most intelligent people I know but I don’t think you even realized it yourself. But your heart isn’t in it with me. And that’s okay, I’ll always have a soft spot for you and I’m sure you know that.” Seokjin sighed as he respectfully let go of your hand and took a definitive step back, still handsome and composed. “I’m afraid I just can’t keep fighting like this for a love that was never meant to be mine in the first place.”
“I think that it will always be you.” You whispered, at this point your lips just mere centimeters from Jungkook’s. 
“It’ll always be you, too,” Jungkook responded, too drunk in your perfume and the feeling of your being so close to his. “Y/N, can I tell you something now?”
“Of course.”
“Would it be okay if I kissed you right now?”
Wordlessly, you closed the gap between you two. The second your lips connected, it felt a lot like a warm summer day. Electricity turned static force kept you connected like that. Soon, lips moved in sync like rolling ocean waves during low tide. Hands lost in hair and tracing all the valleys of each other’s bodies, leaving goosebumps at they traversed every familiar inch. Jungkook’s plush lips felt so homey and so right. Your hand went right back to resting on his chest, feeling the intense beating of his heart. A pace set for you only. 
It hurt so much to have to disconnect so you both could catch your breath. 
“Wow…” Jungkook licked the last taste of you off his lips, savoring the moment with his eyes closed and forehead rested upon yours. “I missed this so fucking much. I missed you so much.” 
“Please kiss me again...” Your eyes gazed into his and he obliged happily. 
And your lips found each other again just like that.
Hands grew more adventurous as the kiss grew more heated. Jungkook’s calloused and cold hands made their way under your shirt, cupping your tender breasts through your bra. At this, you gently pushed him to sit back further on the couch so you could climb on top. The second you straddled his hips, you began to grind down onto his clothed dick, earning you a grunt of satisfaction. His hands grew impatient as he then pushed your shirt and bra up to reveal perky nipples, the chill of the night making them more erect. 
“You look a little cold, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He said before taking one nipple into his mouth and his free hand making sure the other wasn’t left unattended. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he was living up to his words. 
You reached down between your bodies and slipped them into his denim jeans, feeling his hot and heavy dick in the palm of your hands. This got you another grunt from Jungkook, suddenly you were on your back lying down on the couch and Jungkook flashed you his charismatic smile. “Getting a little handsy, I see.” He leaned down and began kissing your neck, remembering your sweet spot despite your time apart. It was his turn for his hand to slip into your pants, gathering your slick between his fingers to play with your clit.  “Baby, let me eat you out, okay?”
You could have easily come right then and there. 
You barely managed a nod as you felt him pull down your jeans and panties in tow after kicking off your sneakers. Once off, Jungkook sat back as he in the sight of your sprawled like that before him. Snapping out of his daze, he crouched down and just lost all sense of shame the second his mouth tasted you. Sucking rhythmically on your clit, rubbing circles on your inner thigh, it was all too much. The sloppy sounds of his saliva mixing in with your wetness were all you could focus on as you felt your walls tighten on nothing. 
“Jungkook, baby, your fingers…”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he continued his string of slurps on your pussy and inserted one finger, beginning to stretch you out. The loudest moan escaped you embarrassingly considering you both were in a public place. However Jungkook didn’t care, he was making up for lost time after all. And then another long digit went inside you, pumping wildly and that was it.
The threads of the rope in your stomach were wound so tight that the fine fibers were beginning to give. Jungkook knew your undoing was near so he continued his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers. Soon enough, the rope snapped, your eyes sealed shut as you saw white and your jaw went slack while you continued to leak out. Your body felt utterly buoyant, among the clouds, and your mind far ahead of your physical being. How long had it been since you came like that?
Jungkook happily lapped up your cum like a man who had gone without water. “You look so fucking beautiful, so beautiful.”
“Need you… inside…” You finally said as you came to and began to remove Jungkook’s leather jacket and his white tee. “More, I want more of you…”
His smile shined as the bottom half of his face was proudly covered in your slick. That dazed smile stayed plastered as he undid the bucket of his belt, the jingle of his pants and boxers hitting his ankles had you in anticipation. 
“Your wish is my command, baby. All yours… I’m all yours” He continued to toy with your already sensitive clit as he began to gently push himself inside your tight core. Both your eyes went wide with how good the tight fit was. It took everything in Jungkook to not come at that moment. His eyes only got a glimpse of the delectable scene of where he entered you before he had to screw them shut in concentration. “You feel so good as always, could die like this.”
You began to move around him, wanting friction and he took that as his sign to start moving as well. What started as slow and steady, became desperate and erratic. He hovered over you, his lips on the valley of your neck and hand gripping onto your breast as you felt every single velvet inch of him fuck you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer if that was even possible. It was all-consuming, it was otherworldly. He hit you in all the right places and it was so good that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 
“Jungkook, just like that, baby. Let’s come together, okay?” You spoke into his ears which kicked him into overdrive. You were so full of him. His hand fondling your painfully erect nipple, his mouth right on the spot he knew would have you, and Jungkook groaned as you clenched him so tight, having him reach his own undoing. A sheen of sweat lined Jungkook’s forehead as he cocked a focused brow. He drank in the fucked out image of you, encouraging him to thrust into you even more sporadically despite how sensitive you both were.
It felt so right to be filled up with his cum, with his dick, with him. 
The two of you sat there in that fucked out state for a couple more minutes to catch your breath again. 
Eventually, Jungkook got up with that dopey smile still on his face as he began to dress you despite still lying on the couch and straighten your clothes. He punctuated each movement with a peck on your swollen lips. His movements were more delicate and tender compared to the heated desperation from moments ago. Once he was dressed as well, he collapsed with you on the couch with his arm slung around you.
“You’re so beautiful.” He made eye contact again, however his airy smile faltered at seeing your bittersweet expression make another appearance. “Hey, baby… what’s wrong?”
“Where do we go from here, Jungkook?” You asked as you reached for his face, caressing a cheek with your thumb. “Because now I’m going to be even more sad when morning comes…”
Fuck. Jungkook had been so caught up in that moment that he didn’t realize what the consequences would be after the fact. While he sure as hell didn’t regret what happened, he didn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has. 
“It doesn’t have to be like that… we can work something out. I can figure something out. I just – I just don’t want you to regret this, regret us… Just give me some time to think and I can –”
You quietly stopped him with a shake of your head, letting him know that it was okay. “It’s okay, you belong in LA, where your life is now. And I belong in Seoul, where my life is now – I know that much. I can’t ask you to uproot your life and give up the band, nor could I leave Seoul given everything happening at home. Just know that I don’t regret this, not at all. However, it’ll be quite sad when morning comes.”
Jungkook could only nod at the heaviness of your words. While they were a hard pill to swallow, they were correct. Both those things rang true in his head. He ached for you so much now he had another taste of life with you, but you both knew there was nowhere to go from here. By late noon, you’ll already be on a flight back to Seoul and he’ll be headed to Vienna to start the European leg of Bring the Soul’s tour. 
“I’ll be sad when morning comes, too. Irrevocably sad.” Jungkook knew that would be the extent of all he could say then. 
Silently, he sat upright where he led you to rest your head in his lap. He looked down at you fondly, a matching bittersweet expression on his face as he began to stroke your hair. A quiet promise was exchanged between you both to enjoy these last moments of intimacy before the sun rose. 
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You both had fallen asleep on that rooftop lounge. Then you woke up around 6AM to Jungkook trying to get you up, talking about taking you to one more place before the night was officially over. Eventually, you both were jogging out of the luxury apartment building, hand in hand, as the two of you entered the subway station to head southwest to the piers to catch the sunrise. 
It was a solemn train ride, to say the least. Both of you avoided each other’s eyes on the ride, like anxious teenage lovers who experienced their first quarrel. It was hell, and the time when you both got off at your correct stop couldn’t have come sooner. His hands still intertwined with yours as you walked off into the morning world, the sun beginning to make its appearance known. The morning’s dew still coated the patches of grass as you both traveled to the edge of the pier which overlooked the water. 
At this point, the blue hour had long passed as the bright star that is our sun began to peek through the horizon. The sky turned from midnight blue to a vibrant yellow with hints of orange. That’s it. This is it…
The morning had officially come. 
You cursed every cliched metaphor referencing the elusiveness of time… the grains of sand slipping through fingertips, the ticking of clock hands that echo in the back of your head, the passage of breezes, and the eventual rising of the morning sun. 
Jungkook smiled gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb which you didn’t even feel form as it fell down your cheek. “Don’t worry.”
“I just want you to know that I loved being in this moment. Sharing this night with you, that tonight it felt like New York was all ours. I could have never seen its beauty and experienced its magic the way I did with you.” Barely managing through your cries, you gasped for a breath as you tried to make out the next words. “But why did things have to turn out this way?”
The loud caws of the seagulls as they flew over the pier and the cold morning air fell onto forgotten senses as the only thing you could feel was the intensity of Jungkook’s stare on you. From your forehead that he placed a tender kiss upon, to your eyes that mirrored that silent longing his contained, the nose that he nuzzled against his, and chin that he held softly in his rough hand… It was like he was taking a picture of you at that moment. A moment where he was not rockstar Jeon Jungkook, but the Jungkook who always found a way to make you laugh and the Jungkook you dreamed of sharing matching rings with. And you were not the person living too fast for anyone to keep up with, but a person who could find the beauty in anything and the person that Jungkook could write a million and one songs about.
“Shh,” he comforted you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight… I’ve never hated to see morning as much as I do now.” He chuckled dryly at the irony of all. 
You pulled back, surprising the man who towered over you. You held his confused face in your hands and smiled. “Me, too. I hope you know that.”
“I do now…” He whispered as though louder words could break the moment before placing a chaste kiss on one of the hands that cupped his face.
“Now what?” Your hands fell from his face and rested on his chest. 
Jungkook sighed in contemplation as he peered past you into the blossoming orange horizon before recentering his eyes on you and grin losing its warmth, being replaced with sadness. “Good morning, I guess.”
The gravity of the situation settled upon you both silently.
“None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.
Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning?”
“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”
“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Good morning, Jungkook.” No matter how dazzling your smile was, Jungkook could never be distracted from the tears that lined your gorgeous eyes. 
No physical closeness could ever combat the weight of what daybreak meant for you both.
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“For JK?” The driver of the Uber called out of the window as he pulled up. 
You and Jungkook stood before each other again, hand in hand for the final time. You squeezed his rough hand, a wordless command of it’s time to let go. And just like that, his hand – despite its hesitation – followed and released its grip on yours. No matter how disheveled you both may have looked from the sleepless night of journeying, it all felt surreal.
“Good morning, Y/N.”
“Good morning, Jungkook.”
Then one more quick kiss before you had gotten into the car he ordered for you and began the journey back to your life. A life without Jeon Jungkook. You rode with the window down, taking the sight of New York in a new day’s light. It felt so foreign and so different from the New York you experienced in the last fifteen hours with Jungkook. That taxi driver was right, you were convinced, that New York was a magical place and had so much more to offer. 
You abruptly felt something wrinkle in the pocket of your jeans as you adjusted yourself in the backseat of the car. Reaching in, you fished out a Katz’s Deli napkin and remembered how Jungkook was writing on it when you had excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You carefully unfolded the napkin and read what was written on it: I’m sure by the time you’ll see this, you would’ve given me the most memorable night I could never forget even if someone were to beat it out of me. I’m dreading sunrise as I write this right now. Though, I’ll hold close what tonight has in store for us. I don’t know if our paths will ever cross again, but I’m sure that this was the most beautiful sunrise I could ever experience because it was with you.
You pondered the possibilities as the heartache fully set in from reading his note. What if you told this Uber to turn around right now? What if you stayed longer? What if you took Jungkook’s offer to figure something out? What if you didn’t have to say goodbye on that forsakenly beautiful pier? What if?
However, it no longer mattered. 
This was the reality you both lived in. 
You had the connection, felt it again, and let it take its course. 
That was what mattered. No what ifs, maybes, or perhapses. What matters is only what happened and that it, in fact, did happen. 
Jungkook watched your car disappear into the morning traffic commute, gone was the warmth that you both shared on that chilly spring morning. He began to laugh at himself, at how cruel the universe was. It could have been perfect. It could have been the ultimate love story. It all could’ve. 
Jungkook kicked a random pebble in his path as he finally looked at his phone log after putting his phone on Do Not Disturb for the whole duration with you.
Min Yoongi | 2 Missed Calls
FROM: Min Yoongi | Where the fuck did you run off to?
Park Jimin | 6 Missed Calls
FROM: Park Jimin | Yah, where’d you go??
FROM: Park Jimin | Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid I swear to god Jeon Jungkook 
Kim Taehyung | 5 Missed Calls
FROM: Kim Taehyung | You bastard, don’t tell me you went off to explore New York on your own
FROM: Kim Taehyung | Broooo, you didn’t even check in to your hotel room? You should’ve told meeeeeee
FROM: Kim Taehyung | You’re so foul for leaving me just to be bored while you went on a night adventure of the city that never sleeps smfh
Manager Sejin | 13 Missed calls
FROM: Manager Sejin | Kid, where the HELL did you go? Call me back asap
FROM: Manager Sejin | Jungkook this isn’t funny
Jungkook laughed at the missed notifications from the group and his manager before giving Yoongi a call back, reasoning that he would be the most level-headed given all the missed notifications after sending a quick message. 
TO GROUP: Bring the Soul | Hey, I’m ok lol. I’m at the pier
The caller's ring sounded twice before Yoongi picked up groggily, but still picked up nonetheless. “Where the hell did you go last night?”
“Just hanging around. New York is a magical place, hyung.” Jungkook responded vaguely but Yoongi caught the hint of bittersweetness in the younger’s tone. 
“Alright… We’re about to get breakfast at a restaurant close to you. I’ll text you the address. Meet us there by 9AM.”
“Sounds good, hyung.”
“Okay. And uh… are you alright?” 
Damn Yoongi’s intuition, Jungkook thought to himself and sighed into the receiver of his cell phone. 
“Yeah… it’s a damn good morning after all.” 
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8-0mph · 1 year ago
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Forbidden Dream
This is all of my Adventure Time AU in chronological story order. Thanks to my friend for proof-read.
Act I: Prismo and Betty
This takes some time after the events of F&C. Prismo and Scrabby inhabit the TR(TimeRoom) and Golbetty has gotten restless with her time in space. She decides to reach out to other multiversal beings, but no one wants to associate with Golb. She finally finds someone that puts up with her ..that being the Wishmaster.
Prismo is scared of Golbetty at first, especially Scrabby since he has a little bit of history with her. He scurries off or hides behind Prismo when she is in the TR. To Scrabbys surprise, Pris and Betty hit it off and become good friends. They find they have something in common, which is their “human” past. Theyre both mortals turned to immortals.
The duo start off by drinking and making fanfics together, but then Betty proposes the idea of making these fics “real”. Prismo is hesitant at first but lately he doesn’t mind breaking the rules.
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At first they visit universes that Prismo considers safe. They treat them like vacations, and a lot of these worlds do not have the typical AT characters. Theyre peaceful docile places. Prismo gets daring, telling Betty that he wants to feel alive again. The two of them agree to visit a dangerous world, the Vampire Kingdom.
Notes:
- Betty chose her physical form to look like magic Betty because she felt it would be strange to appear as she normally did in the past.
- Prismos physical form is what he looked like as a younger human. He thought it would be more fitting for the “adventure”. Also.. He hates how clothing feels on him, so the see-through garments suffice.
- Scrabby is not happy about their friendship. He feels that Prismo has gotten even lazier, foregoing his Wishmaster responsibilities and even worse, ignoring him. The scarab thought he found someone that was happy to spend time with him for the first time, But feels like he has gone back to being the “forgotten” one.
EP II: Vampire Kingdom
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Once Pris and Betty teleport here, theyre immediately caught off guard by a group of vampires that whisk Prismo away and the two are separated. Betty gets surprised by a starved vampire!Simon, who at first doesnt recognize her until he gets a good look at her face.
He refuses to believe its actually Betty and rather a wizard attempting to play tricks on him. Marcy calls his name and he flys away, leaving Betty stunned.
The vampire world is an AU where Vampires take over, but Simon never died and was able to stay with Marcy. Marcy isnt evil here. Simons crown was stolen before he could make a complete transformation into IceKing, and his sanity was kept in part to Marcy turning him to save him from a group of hungry vampires. One curse was replaced with another.
Marcy was turned at a younger age by the VK, but Simon saved her by scratching at the VKs eye (his face scar). Even though the King is furious at Simon for this, he thinks it is more amusing to keep Simon alive and suffering from vampirism. Vampires are starved in this world just like “The Star” episode, but Simon proposes the idea to wrangle human (and animal) survivors and keep them on a reserve to supply the Vampires with a food source. He inevitably becomes the person in charge of the Blood farms. Keep in mind, Simon did this to save humans, otherwise they would have been hunted to extinction.
Unlike the safe worlds PrisBetty visited, this world has most of the original cast in them. Finn is a survivor of the Blood Farms, swearing to kill Simon who he believes imprisoned him in there (which.. is true). The farm is surrounded by booby traps all around the perimeter, no one can get in or out without some level of flying.
Finn always managed to get close to escaping But eventually gets caught in one of the traps. The last attempt caused him to cut his own arm off to be freed and helped by Huntress Wizard. She is one of the few wizards to help the freedom fighters, a band of humans and candy people led by Commander PB. Wizards are hated by Vampires since theyre the few beings that can overpower them. They try to stay out of each others business But huntress is an exception as she feels that the vampires are disrupting the balance of nature.
The Candy Kingdom is fortress walled with wooden spikes and garlic (I thought it would be silly Lol). PBs armor consists of wooden stakes and reminiscent of Golb who she is a follower of. She has access to the Enchiridion and sees Golb as a being that she should harness the power of if the vampires happen to overwhelm her people someday.
The end of the story would involve PrisBetty helping Simon overthrow the VK after Marcy discovers the vampires ability to “drink red” instead of blood. They team up with the help of PB and Huntress. Simon never truly reconciles with Betty as his defense mechanism is to push any feelings of his past away. But he does have a newfound respect for her and tells her to visit him again. Simon will assume the role of Vampire King and free the humans afterward.
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Notes:
- Simon is the only vampire dressing in traditionally “Dracula” clothes. Because hes a nerd and thinks its fitting.
- Marcy is raised by Simon here instead of VK, so she is a lot kinder and sympathetic to the humans and candy kingdom (even if she doesnt show it for a while).
EP III: Winter Kingdom
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After the Vampire world, Prismo and Betty decide their adventuring is “complete” and attempt to teleport back to the Time Room with Prismos magic. This doesnt work out. Turns out, their human forms have been draining their magic slowly, making it so that they need to find a magical item to recharge. This being the Enchiridion.
This is a totally different world than (Canon) Winter Kings as obviously he is alive here.
Ooo has been mysteriously frozen over and put into an eternal Ice Age. There is hardly any life (apart from immortal beings and those resistant to the temperatures) so hardly anyone lives on the surface. Prismo automatically assumes WK is responsible, but Betty refuses to believe Simon would be the cause of this destruction. WK has a much larger kingdom with a variety of ice people, a lot of them more human-like in appearance. It seems like he is trying to mirror a human society.
Here WK has Bettys skeleton and attempting to use the cloning machine he has in F&C to clone a “real” Betty (which is why he doesnt have an ice clone of her).
The backstory of this WK mirrors my au version of him.
Prismo and Betty are briefly separated and I wont go into too much detail on the story. Betty gets the “safe” tour of the kingdom by WK and Prismo is left to wander in search for the Enchiridion. He starts to see things that point to a darker scene (fire people fighting ice soldiers, lack of any plant life, and ice clones of people who no longer exist). At the same time, Betty is off-put by WKs controlling nature. He reveals to her that he has been in a 100-year war with the Fire Kingdom “who destroy everything” with their flames, while ice “preserves it”. Betty is shocked to see the extent of destruction the Ice Kingdom has caused to Ooo and manages to slip away to do her own investigating. She eventually ends up in the room Bettys corpse is kept, which is the only place that WK allows plant life to grow. The Enchiridion was sitting on skeleton Bettys lap.
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The two of them engage in a fight where he details his plan for her and Ooo.
Prismo manages to save her at the end of it. Up until this point hes been a pacifist in the story. They use the Enchiridion to teleport home and they end up.. not there.
Notes:
- I had a bonus page where Scrabby is reacting to PrisBetty not arriving back in the Time Room. He thinks they didnt teleport back on purpose.
- This page also has WK grabbing Bettys ankle right as she teleports. I was going to have WK teleport with them so there was some kind of threat. I am not sure yet.
- The fight scene was supposed to be a lot longer with Betty having the upperhand at first, But I didnt want to draw all of it.
- Winters appearance slowly turns back into Simon when separated from the magic crown.
EP IV: Back Home
They end up in Ooo where the magic teleported them into the sky, making them fall a great distance. They are a little injured, but Betty is mostly shaken by her experience in the Winter world. She redirects this into frustration at Prismo for not teleporting them to the correct place and that they would need to search another “sucky universe”.
Prismo is frustrated and goes off on his own to find another magical object. Betty stays put in the forest. When looking up, Prismo realizes the universe they teleported to was actually the main Ooo upon seeing the floating human city. He rushes back to where Betty was sitting, telling her to go find her Simon here in Ooo, that he knew that he had the Enchiridion in his closet. Betty refuses, knowing that she already said goodbye to Simon years ago and him seeing her again will only hurt him.
Prismo is annoyed at this but walks off, and Betty wanders around the forest until she encounters one of the transport boats that take people up to the city. In her reluctance, she hitches a ride. Meanwhile Prismo reaches a graveyard on the outskirts of the woods, he hides in the bushes and sees a familiar person, Finn, walking up and leaving a bouquet of flowers at the grave.
When Betty makes it up to the city, she explores for a bit before approaching Simon (who is signing a childs book). Before she could say anything, she covers her face with her hat and speeds off. He is at first confused by this but is immediately distracted by the kid again.
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Betty is in shock and retreats onto the boat leading her back down to land. She eventually catches up to Prismo, who is kneeling over Jakes grave. She attempts to comfort him, but the words fall short. He asks her if she visited Simon, but Betty says she couldnt do it. At this point Prismo feels like he wasted his time in the Time Room when he could have been spending it in his human form visiting Jake. He remained trapped in the TR unable to spend time with the mortals he built connections with. He feels that Betty is going to suffer the same regret he feels after Simon inevitably dies.
In a turn of events, Prismo places his hand on the grave and it teleports them back into the Time Room. They are amazed by this, Jakes grave acted like a magical object would have. They temporarily celebrate before Betty is impaled by an angry Scrabby.
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Bettys human form is heavily injured as Prismo and the Scarab fight in several rooms. Scrabby tells him that he alerted the auditors about their misdeeds. That they will both be locked away for thousands of years or perhaps forever just like he was trapped in the Time Room.
Prismo temporarily subdues Scrabby and goes back to the main room where Betty is. This is where he turns her into a fox to keep her hidden, and promises that her memories are all stored in her body dormant in Golb (Like how Prismos form is dormant in the Time Room).
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Fox!Betty wakes up in Ooo, no memories, a feeling of disconnect from her body, and hungry.
End of Act 1
Act II is all about Bettys life as a fox in Ooo. Its a lot calmer and slow burn in comparison to Act I. Upon landing in Ooo, fox!Betty encounters posters advertising Simons* sci-fi series Casper and Nova. She is convinced he is knowledgeable about space because a talking dog told her he was.
*EDIT: Someone pointed out that C&N was written by Astrid (it is implied heavily). Pretend the posters are the two of them working together, maybe Simon helping Astrid write them since she is just a kid.
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She starts pestering Simon at one of his book signings and he already dislikes foxes because earlier in the week, a band of them stole his draft for an upcoming book. Betty proposes that she will find the notes and return them to him if she can have a place to stay (Even though he says no, she crashes at his place anyway).
I thought about Simon giving Betty a nickname so that she isnt just referred to as “fox”, so she is “Sunny” since she really likes when he makes sunny-side up eggs. She really likes eggs as a fox that is her quirk.
Update 1/21/24: Sunny encounters Simon after breaking into his home and snooping around for clues. Simon ambushes her in the Golb ritual room, assuming she has come to steal the Enchiridion. Sunny explains herself and claims that she can get Simons draft back from the fox thieves. They go on an “adventure”. It is revealed that fox!Betty can transform into Betty only when unconscious/sleeping. Simon wakes up next to her but assumes he is hallucinating..
Post about Simon and fox!Bettys dynamic.
I couldnt fit all images into this post as there is a 10 photo limit. I decided to link additional photos to underlined text. If you want further context, check those out. I love reading others AUs and was inspired to do my own. Any questions can be left in comment. Thanks for read..!
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gigabyte-flare · 2 years ago
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Insatiable (Part 1)
Summary: You are a researcher for D.S.O. who is responsible for studying Leon Kennedy as Las Plagas overtakes him, maybe even finding a cure. He starts to take a liking to you, too much of a liking to you.
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: Heavily inspired by this artwork by @chanif-art on Tumblr along with Project Scorpion by @tagzpite. Literally could not get this idea out of my head until I wrote it down. Definitely going to be another series. We're also going to pretend D.S.O. was founded way sooner than 2011 k byeeeeee
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“I fought a war and I learned how to win, but how do you fight when the enemy’s within?”
You step out of an elevator led by two armed D.S.O. operatives in tactical gear deep underground at HQ, your white lab coat flowing gently as you walk forward. Grasped in your right hand is a voice recorder. You and the operatives go through a series of heavy steel doors leading you into the bowels of the underground facility.
Is all this really necessary? you think to yourself as you’re led deeper into the abyss.
Finally, you’re brought to a single cell enclosed with clear polycarbonate panels with steel reinforcements. In this cell was a man sitting in a chair that was bolted into the floor, his hands chained behind his back and his legs chained to the legs of the chair. This man is Agent Leon S. Kennedy. You approach one of the panels closest to the steel door keeping him in. 
Switching the voice recorder on and bringing it to your mouth, you state your name before continuing, “The year is 2004. The subject is field agent Leon Scott Kennedy, currently 27 years old and exhibiting the late stages of Las Plagas infestation, his body is covered in dark, vein like marks. Subject is currently slumped over in the chair. He appears to be catatonic.”
Bringing the recorder away from your mouth, you motion to one of the operatives to guard the door. You input a passcode into a key panel next to the door. It lets out a hiss as it slowly swings open. As you step in, the door swings closed and locks.
You bring the recorder back to your mouth and continue, “Agent Kennedy?”
You watch as Leon slowly lifts his head, his face completely covered in the dark veins, his once blue eyes now have a slight red tinge to them, it makes your stomach twist in sorrow, he used to be such a handsome man.
“Subject appears to still have some cognitive ability left as he immediately recognized his name. We’re still trying to understand how he hasn’t broken down now that the alpha Plagas host, Osmund Saddler, has been destroyed--”
“I’m right here, you know,” Leon suddenly spoke, making you jump.
“Ag-Agent Kennedy!” you reply, eyes wide in shock that he’s able to speak. 
“Please, just call me Leon, sweetheart.”
His dark gaze seemed to pierce straight into your very soul. You collect yourself, clearing your throat.
“How are you feeling, Leon?”
Leon looks down at himself, tugging gently at his restraints before looking back up at you, “all things considered, I actually feel pretty damn good.”
“That’s… good, I guess,” you reply, your nervousness clear in your voice. 
You hadn’t prepared for this, every researcher that attempted to interact with him got absolutely nothing out of him, hence why they sent you down. You argued with them, not seeing the point but now you began to realize that the difference was they were all men, you were a woman. 
“Awww… there’s no need to be so nervous, sweetheart, it’s just me, Leon Kennedy. I promise I don’t bite,” he says, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “hard.”
“Do you know where you are and why you’re here, Leon?”
He lets out a chuckle, “yeah, I’m in D.S.O.’s research facility because I’m turning into a monster.”
“That’s putting it rather bluntly, but yes, that’s correct.”
“About time they sent someone cute down here to visit me, the rest were much too dull. If I wasn’t chained up, I’d ask you out to dinner and a movie.”
You feel yourself blushing, “that’s… very kind of you Leon, however that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m afraid.”
“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name,” he growls, a sinister grin overtaking him.
Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your eyes widen at him. This wasn’t like Leon at all, the parasite was clearly twisting his thoughts. You panic, turning around to motion the operatives to open the door and let you out. As soon as you’re out of the cell, you briskly walk away from the cell as fast as you can, not once looking back. You could have swore you heard Leon’s laugh echo after you. 
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“I am not going back down there, are you insane?!”
“You’re the first person he has actually spoken to since he got back from Spain,” the lead researcher, Bryan said, setting your voice recorder down onto his desk. 
“So? Your point? I’m not doing it and that’s final!”
“Look, this recording gives us valuable data on him, it’s clear that the Plagas inside him is mutating into a more dominant strain. It must know it’s the last one left,” Bryan said, pleading with you.
“So we’re just going to poke and prod him like he’s some guinea pig? Leon wouldn’t have wanted that! Are you sure there’s no way we can cure him?”
“If we attempt to remove the parasite now, it will kill him--”
“Then let’s put him out of his misery, this isn’t right!”
The silence between you was deafening. After a few minutes, Bryan finally spoke.
“Judging by this recording, the Plagas has one thing on its mind.”
“Which is…?”
Bryan looked up at you, letting out a heavy sigh, “reproduction.”
“All the more reason I shouldn’t be going back down there!”
“He’ll be restrained and you’ll have at least two operatives with you at all times, you’ll be safe,” Bryan leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together, “the data you collect from Agent Kennedy is invaluable in finding out how the parasite works, just… go down and talk to him. I know yesterday was unnerving but there is one thing he said that is true, he’s just Leon Kennedy. He’s in there somewhere, even if the Plagas is influencing him.”
You cross your arms, staring at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back up at Bryan, “fine. But I want hazard pay.”
“Consider it done, here’s your recorder back,” Bryan says, sliding the recorder across the desk towards you. 
You grab the recorder of the desk, turning on your heel to walk out of Bryan’s office.
“You are to report down there in an hour, you hear me?” Bryan calls after you just as you walk out the door.
You fight the urge to flip him off, thinking better of it. You walk down the hall into your office, getting your lab coat back on and sitting at your desk. You press play on the recorder, listening back on your interaction with Leon several times. There was one part where you repeated it several times, sending chills down your spine.
“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”
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How long had Leon been locked down here, chained to this chair? How many men in lab coats came and tried to talk to him? He knew he was a lost cause, why were they keeping him alive? How many times did he wish death would come and take him in his sleep?
But then you came, awakening something in him.
Your natural scent filled the cell completely, so many hours had gone by and he could still smell you and you smelled absolutely divine. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your voice was so sweet yet filled with drive and intelligence. The way you blushed when he flirted with you. The way your heartbeat began to race at just the mere mention of taking you.
God you were so cute when you ran off, all flustered, he couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t felt alive like that in so long. His reminiscing was interrupted suddenly when he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Lifting his head, he practically began to salivate when he saw you had returned.
You came back to me, baby, where you belong…
“The subject appears to be conscious and alert, he watched us as soon as we were in his line of sight,” you say as he watches you speak into the voice recorder. 
With a hiss, the door opens and you step inside. Leon breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you, you smelled even better than you had yesterday. He feels his cock twitch in his pants in excitement. He watches as the door behind you closes and locks, just like it had yesterday, trapping you in here with him.
Curse these fucking chains…
“You’re more lively today, Leon, care to tell me why?” you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion.
“How about you tell me why you smell so nice,” Leon replies, grinning at you, drool running from his mouth down his chin.
He watches you shift uncomfortably before you continue, “I’m not answering that.”
Leon scoffs, shaking his head, “then I’m not going to talk to you, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath, “if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know why I smell so nice to you, Leon.”
His red eyes scan up and down your form, imagining it without all those needless clothes. Imagining himself pinning you to the floor and fucking you stupid. A strange, clicking sound came out of him from the back of his throat as he pulled aggressively on the chains holding him to the chair. He watches as the two men with guns outside become alert. Leon lets out a low growl as he glares at them.
You turn to face the men, signaling to them to stand down. He watches them both relax before you return your attention to him. 
“The transformation appears to be progressing faster than expected,” you say into the recorder, “are you in any pain, Leon?”
Leon slowly shakes his head, “no, just unbelievably horny, doll.”
“We have reason to believe the subject is displaying an increased libido due to the fact that the parasite inside him knows it’s the last of its kind.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, that’s awfully rude.”
“Fine,” you say, lowering the recorder away from your mouth, “what do you want to talk about, Leon?”
“You should ask those nice boys out there to take these chains off me,” Leon purrs, staring at you longingly.
“Absolutely not, Leon,” you reply, crossing your arms, “those chains are there for my safety as well as your own, at least until we can get the Plagas out of your body.” “I think I’m too far gone for that, don’t you think, sweetheart?”
You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, the sorrow clear in your eyes, “I am so sorry that this is what you have become, Leon.”
“I’m not,” Leon says as that sinister grin overtakes him again; he starts to chuckle.
“Leon,” you begin, stepping closer and kneeling down to be eye level with Leon, “I know the real you is in there, somewhere, you have to fight it.”
Your scent was almost enough to drive him crazy, you were delectable. He licks his lips, that clicking sound coming out from this throat again. His eyes are locked on you and he sees you glance down briefly before looking back into his eyes. He knew what you were looking at, you were looking at the noticeable bulge in his cargo pants.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Leon says, his body visibly trembling.
You don’t respond, you simply stare at him with that same sad look in your eyes. How could you not want him as much as he wanted you. His lips curl into a snarl.
“Let me FUCK YOU!” he growls, lunging forward, the bolts in the chair letting out a loud screech as they’re bent slightly.
You stumble back, falling backwards onto the floor as Leon continues to struggle violently. The two men with guns come rushing in, one of them grabbing you off the floor while the other shoots a tranquilizer dart into Leon’s thigh. Leon feels the effects almost instantly, his body becomes limp as he becomes sluggish, his mouth hanging agape as he watches you get led out of the room by the two men, the door shutting and locking behind them as you’re led away.
“Mine,” he whispers in his last moments of consciousness, “all mine.”
Part 2
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