#I think this is the last time I get to use the ‘something just happened’ joke so I hope you liked it while it lasted | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ncteez · 20 hours ago

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M.I.L.F. (Make It Last Forever) ― L.DH

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?

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.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #lee haechan smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct x reader

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hyuckiefluff · 1 day ago

Text

dr dreamy | na jaemin

pairing: doctor!neighbor! na jaemin x fem.reader genre & wc: smut, fluff, crack (ish) | 18k summary: in which your infuriatingly hot neighbor ends up getting your box of sex toys delivered to his door by mistake content warning: explicit smut, breast play, oral sex (fem.receiving), brief mentions of sex toy usage, teasing, marking, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehaw), alcohol consumption, monster cawwwk jaemin (i didn’t make this up it’s real) a/n: hiiiii yes yes i know, it’s been forever and ive neglected you all so bad i’m so sorry ! i can’t even use the excuse of being too busy bc i was just in the worst writing slump of my life. but i hope i can make up for all those 10 months of radio silence with this long fic :) also it’s pretty different from what i’m used to writing. for once i wrote it all in lowercase bc i felt like this was lowkey a pretty unserious fic and that was the vibe it required lol it’s also my first time trying to write something “funny” but my humor is not that good still i tried lolz. also i'd like to add that i know as much about doctors as the next person so don't expect much accuracy in that regard. anyways hope you enjoy :)

your leg bounced anxiously as you stared at the photo the delivery guy sent, trying to figure out which door your package had ended up on. every single door in your building was the same plain white with decoration, no plants, no quirky doormat to offer a clue. just a long, boring hallway of identical doors, and somewhere behind one of them was your package.

"great," you muttered, already feeling the creeping frustration in your chest.

your phone buzzed in your hand, and you barely had time to glance at the screen before answering.

"sooo," came minnie's voice, far too chipper for this disaster, "did you like my gift?”

“i’m gonna strangle you,” you hissed, rubbing your temples.

“woah, you know i’m not into that freaky shit.”

“i’m serious, minnie,” you groaned, dragging a hand through your hair. “the package got delivered to a different apartment. you must’ve put the wrong number on it.”

“no way,” she gasped, already on the defensive. “i literally double-checked. triple-checked, even. it’s apartment 235.”

"what?” you yelled, nearly dropping your phone.

this can’t be happening. out of all the apartments in your building… it had to be that one?

“minnie…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, "it’s 236. apartment 236.”

she paused. “oh.”

you heard her laugh nervously, and it took everything in you not to throw your phone across the room.

“minnie…” you groaned, pressing your forehead against the wall. “i swear, if it’s what i think it is based on our last conversation…” your voice trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “my next-door neighbor, minnie. MINNIE. jaemin…oh my god.”

“wait,” she said, voice sharp with interest. “is that the doctor you said is too hot for his own good?”

“i did not say that.”

“you did.”

“no, i said he’s just… a nice sight for my eyes, okay? in a building full of old people, sue me for appreciating the view.” you rubbed at your face. “but i can’t face him if he saw what’s in that package. i just can’t.”

“listen…” minnie drawled. “what if he’s into it, though? think about it.”

“i’m hanging up.”

“no, wait—” but you pressed the red button before she could finish.

the most mortifying experience of your 24 years on this planet, and it hadn’t even fully happened yet. but you could see it clear as day: the box, him opening it innocently, and its contents—oh, god, the contents.

the thing is, you and minnie had a dumb tradition. whenever life got a little too miserable or stressful, you’d send each other gifts. random, stupid stuff. a manga you’d been talking about, or a plushie of your favorite sanrio character. the catch was you could never reveal what it was until it was opened. it was supposed to be a surprise.

except this time, you were sure minnie’s idea of a "surprise" was directly inspired by your recent rants about being, well… frustrated. as in, the sexual kind of frustration. you had a strong hunch about what she’d sent.

you sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. you had two choices: go over there and pray he hadn’t opened it, or stay here and hope the ground swallowed you whole. both seemed equally unlikely.

as you stared at the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.

three soft knocks.

your heart stopped, your body jolting so hard you nearly rolled off the couch. no. no, no, no. not him. please not him.

you tiptoed to the door like a cartoon burglar, eyes wide with panic. don’t answer. if you don’t answer, he’ll just leave it. you could grab it later. it’s fine. everything’s fine.

but as you got closer, you heard the softest shuffle from the other side. he was still there. you peeked through the peephole and there he was indeed… jaemin. your very handsome, very distinguished doctor neighbor. standing there, holding your box.

you backed away from the door like it was about to explode. no, nope, you’d just wait until he—

you bumped into the side table. hard. and in a moment of unfiltered pain, you yelled, “FUCK!” loud enough to echo down the hall.

a long pause.

“hello?” his voice was clear through the door. smooth, polite.

you shut your eyes so tight you saw stars. letting him think you weren’t home was six feet under now.

"just get it over with," you muttered to yourself, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look at destroyed as you felt.

you opened the door with the kind of smile you'd give a police officer who just pulled you over. "oh! good morning, neighbor!" you practically chirped, voice too high, too fake.

he smiled, sleepy but devastatingly handsome. his scrubs hung perfectly off his frame, and his hair was tousled like he'd just came from a long night shift…which he probably did. he had the kind of face that made you think life has favorites.

“morning,” he said, nodding his head. “sorry to bother you so early, but this…” he held up the box, fingers tapping the side of it. tap tap tap your eye twitched. “this got delivered to my place by mistake.”

he was so calm. too calm.

“oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely functional. “uh, yeah! no worries at all! my friend sent it, haha, she’s… forgetful like that. really bad with numbers. haha…” you trailed off. kill me now.

“right,” he said, eyes flicking to the box. “well, here you go.” he held it out to you.

you reached for it but your hands, slick with nervous sweat, betrayed you. the box slipped.

“oh no-”

thud.

everything.

everything spilled out.

time slowed. your heart dropped straight into hell.

boxes. bottles. wrappers.

and then the pièce de résistance.

a sex doll.

a life-size, anatomically correct, male sex doll.

you didn’t know what kind of sound you made, but it was something between a gasp and a whimper. your knees hit the floor as you scrambled to grab everything wishing you could somehow erase the last five seconds of reality.

“oh my god,” you whispered, cramming the boxes into your arms. “oh my god. oh my god.”

“uhm,” he cleared his throat and you didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of face he was making. there were no words for this. none. zero.

“thank you for bringing it to me! bye!” you choked out, voice cracking on the last syllable as you grabbed what you could and slammed the door shut with the force of a hurricane.

you pressed your back to the door, sinking to the floor, arms full of colorful boxes of shame. you stared at them.

a vibrator. a bottle of lube. a very, very anatomically correct doll still half in its box.

"minnie." you said her name like a curse.

your phone buzzed. it was a text from her.

minnie (6:18am): how’d it go?

“hell,” you muttered, tossing your phone across the room.

you sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of embarrassment crushing down on you. moving out suddenly seemed like the only reasonable option. scratch that, you were moving countries. or planets. was mars habitable yet?

♡ ♡ ♡

for the next few days, life was nothing short of miserable. you called in sick to work because there was no way you could leave your apartment and risk running into jaemin. the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist into knots. to anyone else, it might seem dramatic—after all, owning sex toys wasn’t some scandalous crime—but the sheer context of it all was unbearable.

the cherry on top was that the box had clearly already been opened. jaemin had definitely seen what was inside before you’d even dropped it. and the fact that he just pretended everything was normal while standing there with a straight face? it was almost worse. no, it was worse. because now he probably pitied you for dropping it in front of him even after he tried to save you from the embarrassment.

you groaned, burying your face into the couch cushions. where was the armageddon when you needed it?

you hadn’t left your spot in the couch days, and your body was starting to hate you for it. your back ached from the awkward angle you were lying in, and your stomach growled because you’d panic-eaten the last of your food last night.

“this is pathetic,” you muttered, grabbing your phone.

after scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes, you reluctantly opened your food delivery app. you ordered enough food for at least two days and prayed the delivery guy would bring it to your door. but of course, life hated you, so when you got the “can’t find parking” text, you sighed loudly.

“naturally,” you mumbled, dragging yourself off the couch.

you threw on the most disguising outfit you could find: a black beanie, your puffy winter coat, and oversized sunglasses. did you look like a wannabe celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi? sure. but desperate times called for desperate measures.

you texted the driver a quick be right down and bolted to the elevator, keeping your head low.

when you reached the parking lot, you practically snatched the bag out of the driver’s hands and mumbled a quick thank you before rushing back inside. you were so close to safety now.

you stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, finally letting out a sigh of relief. but, as fate would have it, you celebrated just a tad too soon.

just before the doors closed, a hand shot through the gap. you froze.

you smelled him first.

that cologne. you’d know it anywhere.

your heart sank as jaemin stepped into the elevator, looking unfairly handsome as usual. you, on the other hand, looked like a fugitive.

“good afternoon,” he said politely, his voice calm and smooth.

“hi, uh…afternoon,” you mumbled, holding the bag of food up to your face like a shield. maybe if you hid behind it long enough, he wouldn’t notice it was you.

“y/n?”

shit.

you glanced at him reluctantly, offering an awkward laugh. “oh, hey, jaemin… didn’t realize it was you.” you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. “these things are so dark.”

he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “didn’t recognize you either. are you coming from an event or something?”

you blinked at him, realizing how ridiculous your outfit must look. “oh, no, i—uh… i have a cold,” you stammered. “just trying to stay warm, you know?”

“ah,” he nodded, his expression softening. “well, you should rest up. drink plenty of water and maybe some tea with honey, it helps soothe your throat. oh, and—”

he started rattling off doctorly advice and you could only stare at him, dumbfounded. because, of course, not only was he handsome, but he was kind, too. unfair. completely unfair.

“thanks,” you said, cutting him off before he could get too deep into his list of remedies.

he smiled at you again, and for a moment, you swore your heart skipped a beat. “i was actually a little worried,” he admitted, leaning against the elevator wall casually. “i haven’t seen you around the past few days.”

“oh. uh… yeah,” you said weakly, shifting the food bag in your hands. “just been laying low, don’t wanna get anyone sick.”

“i see,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “you’re not hiding from me, are you?”

your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat. was it that obvious?

“what? no! why would i be hiding from you?” you forced out a laugh, but it sounded fake even to your ears.

he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “hmm. just checking.”

“yeah, it’s because of the cold” you muttered, fidgeting with the handle of the food bag. “it’s nothing serious, though. i appreciate the concern.” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“good to hear,” he said, his eyes still on you. “but still, if it doesn’t get better in a few days, you should probably see a doctor.”

“right. definitely,” you nodded quickly, eyes glued to the little numbers above the elevator door, silently willing them to move faster.

but of course, the universe hated you lately. the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, too soon for your floor. you flinched, and before you could even begin to hope it was just a regular stop, the overhead lights flickered once, then twice, and then… nothing.

darkness.

“oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned, tilting your head back against the cold elevator wall.

“well,” jaemin’s voice came through the darkness, and you could hear the grin in it, “this is bad timing, huh?”

“this is my villain origin story,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you slid down to sit on the floor. “this is how i finally snap and become one of those people who yell at customer service workers.”

he laughed, and you hated how nice it sounded. like melted chocolate. warm, smooth, and way too easy to get addicted to.

“guess we’re stuck for a bit,” he said, sitting across from you. you could only make out the faintest outline of him in the dim emergency lighting. “not a bad person to be stuck with, though.”

“yeah, lucky you,” you deadpanned, cradling your bag of food.

there was a pause. not an awkward one but it felt somewhat intimate and you didn’t like it. not because you felt uncomfortable but because you were scared of embarrassing yourself further.

“hey,” he spoke up again, softer this time. “about the other day…”

no. absolutely not. this was not happening.

“nope,” you cut him off, waving a hand like you could physically swat the topic away. “we don’t talk about that. ever.”

“but i think we should—”

“we don’t, jaemin,” you said firmly, pointing at him like a scolding parent. “it never happened. you never saw it. i never dropped it. in fact, none of it exists. it was a shared hallucination caused by gas leaks in the building. that’s my story, and i’m sticking to it.”

he snorted, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “gas leaks?”

“yep. toxic fumes. real health hazard,” you nodded, doubling down. “you should probably get management to check that out, doctor.”

“i’m a neurosurgeon, not an HVAC technician,” he shot back, amused.

“same difference,” you muttered.

another pause. you could feel him looking at you, even in the dimness.

“for what it’s worth,” he started slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “i wasn’t judging you.”

“good,” you mumbled, picking at a loose thread on your coat. “because i’m not like ashamed of it, just… mortified, you know?” you finally glanced up at him, feeling a little braver in the low light. “there’s a difference.”

he nodded, eyes warm and understanding in a way that made your chest ache. “there is.”

you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall. “i’m moving. i’ve decided.”

he laughed, full and bright. “you’re not moving.”

“i am, actually,” you insisted. “gonna change my name, get a new identity. maybe move to the mountains. live off the grid. it’s the only way.”

“you’re ridiculous,” he said, still grinning.

“you say that like it’s news.”

silence settled over you both again, but this time it was lighter. less suffocating. you could hear him shift, stretching his legs out in front of him. he tapped his fingers against his knees like he was keeping time to a song only he could hear.

“so,” he said after a beat, voice low and casual. “was that, uh… the first time you ordered something like that?”

your whole face went hot.

“jaemin,” you warned.

“what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. “just curious.”

“don’t make me call those toxic fumes back in here,” you threatened, pointing a stern finger at him.

he threw his head back laughing, and despite yourself, you smiled too.

"fine, i won’t bring it up anymore,” he said with a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. his fingers pressed into the muscle there, and he winced slightly.

“you okay?” you asked, glancing at him with concern.

“yeah, just a long day at work,” he replied, rolling his shoulder like it’d been bothering him for hours.

“yeah, i can imagine. the life of a doctor must be pretty hectic,” you said, eyes flicking to his hands as they worked over the tense muscle. “but you gotta know your limits too… you’re not made of steel, you know.” there was a hint of worry in your voice, and you tried not to let it show too much, but judging by the way he glanced at you, he caught it.

he looked at you for a moment, longer than usual, before nodding. “you’re right,” he let out a short breath. “i guess i’ve been burying myself in work lately. but it’s hard not to when it’s this time of the year… i’m a pediatric neurosurgeon and too many kids get sick and hurt during the summer.”

“oh, definitely. i’m not even a kid and i always get sick in the summer,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

he laughed at that, his grin easy and genuine. “never too late to have fun during the summer,” he said, leaning back against the elevator wall. “just not too much fun. can’t party too hard with a cold.”

“do i look like the kind of person who parties too hard?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“hmm,” he tilted his head with a slight (cute) pout. “i wouldn’t know. we don’t know each other that well.” he glanced at you, eyes flicking over you just once before smirking. “but you’re young and pretty, so why not?”

your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought to keep your face neutral. did he seriously just call you pretty so casually like it was a fact of life? the dim lighting of the elevator became your saving grace, hiding the warmth that crept up your neck.

"want a piece?" you asked, anxiously trying to change the subject, raising the bag of fried chicken in your hands. you shook it lightly to emphasize. "i have a feeling we're gonna be stuck here for a while, and it's still warm."

he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something a little playful. “don’t mind if i do.”

he moved closer, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed, and you set the bag down in front of you both. “dig in,” you said gesturing with your hands toward the chicken.

“so… you’re a doctor…” you said after a couple minutes of eating in silence.

“last time i checked, yeah,” he replied, glancing over at you with a faint smile.

“so why’d you move into this shabby building with elevators that haven’t been serviced since the stone age?” you asked, pausing to tear into a chicken wing with zero grace or subtlety.

he stared at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your question or the feral way in which you were eating.

“i’m a resident, so i don’t make nearly as much as people think. plus, med school debt is no joke. this place fit the budget.”

“oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “sorry if that sounded kinda judgy. people tell me i’ve got a chronic case of big mouth syndrome.”

“it’s fine,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “at least you’re honest.”

“what about you?” he asked, tilting his head toward you.

“me? oh same story, different font. drowning in student debt, and this place was… available,” you said, popping another wing into your mouth.

he nodded, and after that, the conversation picked up, flowing so naturally you forgot you’d technically only been speaking to him for a week. before that you had only shared neighborly greetings in the hallway.

you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the elevator jolted suddenly, the lights flickering back on with a low, mechanical hum.

by then, the bag of chicken was empty, and you knew more about jaemin than you ever expected to learn in one night.

♡ ♡ ♡

“i thought elevators had some kind of emergency backup power for blackouts,” minnie said, her face pixelated on your phone screen.

“yeah but this building’s like 60 years old,” you muttered, adjusting the camera so she could see you better. you were sitting on the floor, painting your toenails a fresh shade of lavender. “the fact that it even has an elevator is a miracle.”

“true, true,” minnie nodded, chewing on a piece of candy. her eyes lit up suddenly. “by the way, why does your sexy doctor live there? i thought doctors were supposed to be loaded.” she propped her chin on her hand.

“he told me he just started his residency,” you explained, blowing gently on your freshly painted nails. “and he just started a new job at the hospital. they don’t get paid that well when they’re starting out.”

“hmm,” she hummed knowingly. “so you spend a few hours stuck in an elevator with him, and suddenly you’re an expert on the medical field, huh?”

you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “it’s called having a normal conversation, you should try it”

“i’m just saying,” minnie teased, tossing a gummy bear into her mouth. “you went in there hiding from him, and you ended up sharing chicken and life stories. i see you.”

“there is nothing to see,” you shot back, tossing a pillow at your phone screen like she could actually feel it.

“mm-hmm,” she hummed, leaning forward “so, did he mention it?”

“mention what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“the box,” she said ominously, dragging out the word like it belonged in a horror movie trailer.

you froze. “he tried to,” you admitted, tapping your fingers on the pillow in your lap. “but i shut him down real quick.”

“oho, look at you,” she said, leaning back impressed. “miss assertive, didn’t think you had it in you.”

“i have more pillows to throw, minnie. don’t test me.”

“yeah, yeah, violent tendencies aside,” she waved you off, completely immune to your threats. “i hope this new confidence means you’re finally putting my gifts to use.” she tilted her head with the most innocent smile, which made it all the more sinister.

your face went hot. so, so hot.

“i haven’t,” you lied, voice a little too high.

“liar,” she sang, leaning closer to the camera. “i can see your shifty eyes. you definitely tried it.”

“okay, fine, i did!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “but it was a disaster.”

minnie perked up with curiosity. “oh?”

“yeah, oh,” you repeated, scratching your head. “it just… didn’t hit. it felt weird and i got frustrated, so i just gave up. plus i don’t know where you got that vibrator from but it almost burned my girlypop”

“rookie mistake,” she sighed shaking her head dramatically. “that’s why you need someone with experience to help you out.”

your brows furrowed. “what are you even saying right now?”

“i’m saying,” she grinned like the devil himself, “that you have a perfectly qualified medical professional living right next door. i’m sure dr. mcdreamy wouldn’t mind giving you a consultation.”

you blinked once. “minnie, you’re actually sick in the head.”

“oh, please.” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “he’s hot, he’s single, and you’ve already done half the work. you were sitting there eating fried chicken, and you’re telling me he kept throwing compliments at you? we all know you eat chicken like a truck driver, and he still thought you were pretty. use your resources, babe.”

“he was hungry and stuck. he was probably grateful i offered him food. what else was he supposed to do?”

“it’s so much more than that,” she said, holding up a hand, a clear signal for you to shut up and pay attention. “i know when a man is laying the foundation and trust me, he’s building a whole mansion with your name on it.”

“you’re fully overreacting right now.”

one of minnie's strengths was that she wasn’t one to give up easily. but that also ended up being one of her flaws. you knew for a fact she wouldn’t drop this jaemin thing until she proved he had a thing for you.

“seriously, though,” she continued, leaning in so close her face was the whole screen. “he’s a doctor which means he’s like literally obligated to help people. it’s in the oath or something.”

“your point is..?”

“you know” she raised her brows suggestively “experienced hands, medical precision, and he owes you one for that chicken dinner. it’s the perfect setup.”

“you’re insane… like actually seek help.” you shook your head, trying to sound firm, but you were laughing too much to sell it.

“i’m serious,” she laughed along, “you literally blush whenever you talk about him. oh and you can’t even say his name without smiling.”

“that’s not true,” you said, shifting your position on the couch like that would somehow make your denial more convincing.

“mmhm,” she squinted her eyes, clearly not believing you.

“and for the record,” you added, jabbing your finger at the screen, “not every attractive man i meet is getting sexualized in my head. i’m not a beast.”

“no, you’re just a liar,” she shot back with a wide grin. “be real for like two seconds. i can see you smiling so hard right now.”

“you can’t see anything,” you said, voice sharper now. “it’s the pixelation. your wifi is ass.”

“nice try,” she said, drawing out the words. “i know a bashful grin when i see one.”

“you stress me out,” you muttered, twisting the cap back on your nail polish with a little too much force.

“and yet, you call me every day.” she propped her chin on her palm, smile pure menace.

“i guess i’m a masochist,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch. “tragic, really.”

“mmhm, tragic is right,” she said, eyes narrowing into little crescents. “because now i’m gonna be your maid of honor at this wedding i didn’t even prepare for.”

“goodbye, minnie,” you deadpanned, reaching for the end call button.

“goodbye, future mrs. mcdreamy.” she winked at the camera, and before you could curse her out, she hung up.

you sat there for a second, staring at your phone’s home screen, lips pressed tight.

delusional.

she was delusional.

but that didn’t stop you from thinking about jaemin’s stupid grin. the way he’d looked at you while eating fried chicken, casual but present, like he was really there in the moment with you. the way his eyes lingered, just for a second too long.

you shook your head, shoving the thought away like minnie’s words had wormed their way into your subconscious.

nope.

you capped the nail polish, shoved your phone aside, and focused on literally anything else.

♡ ♡ ♡

over the next few days, something shifted. not in a big, dramatic way but in a way you could feel.

jaemin wasn’t just the polite neighbor you exchanged pleasantries with in the hall anymore. now, every time you saw him, there was this unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air like: we shared fried chicken in a broken elevator for three hours.

this new attitude towards you was giving you whiplash. he was… extra friendly now. he smiled more, spoke to you first, acted like you were both in on some kind of inside joke. it wasn’t bad… but it wasn’t normal either.

“morning, y/n,” he’d say as you both waited for the elevator, eyes crinkling like he’d already thought of something funny.

“morning,” you’d reply, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. the tiles were suddenly fascinating.

but then you’d catch the faintest trace of his cologne—the same one you’d inhaled way too much of in the elevator—and suddenly, the tiles weren’t so interesting anymore. so you’d try to sneak a glance or two, and when he wore his doctor’s coat and glasses, you couldn’t help but ogle. he was so ridiculously handsome. everything about him practically begged for you to admire. his sharp jawline, his dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, his lips always pink and effortlessly moisturized, his hair neatly trimmed in the back but just a bit longer in the front, falling perfectly right above his thick brows.

and he had the most captivating smile, so white it almost blinded you, and despite thinking he was the serious type at first, you quickly realized he was incredibly expressive. he communicated so much with just his brows, and it seemed impossible for him to speak without a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. like what was so funny? that you were crushing hard on him and it was kind of disrupting your life?

he was also too relaxed around you. way too relaxed. how was he so calm when he’d seen you in your most unhinged states? meanwhile, you could still feel the ghost of that moment hovering over you like a neon sign flashing "dildo girl spotted."

the third time you ran into him that week, you almost turned around to take the stairs, but you weren’t fast enough.

“caught you,” jaemin said as soon as he spotted you, his grin sharp but not unkind. “thinking of bailing on me?”

you paused like you were actually considering it. “don’t flatter yourself,” you said, walking forward like you’d planned to all along. “the stairs are just bad for my knees.”

“oh, is that right?” he asked, stepping aside with a sweep of his hand. "good thing elevators exist, huh?”

“lucky me,” you muttered, slipping inside. he followed right after, too close for comfort but not close enough to call him out on it.

“lucky me,” he added, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. "would’ve missed you otherwise."

you had to bite back the cough that almost escaped when he said that, his lazy smile firmly in place like always.

you glanced at him, squinting. "what's with you lately?"

“what do you mean?”

“this,” you gestured at him vaguely. “all this… talking. you weren’t like this before.”

“maybe i just needed an excuse,” he said with a nonchalant shrug “and three hours in an elevator with you was a pretty good one.”

you blinked, momentarily at a loss. what were you even supposed to say to that?

“did you rehearse that?,” you muttered, turning away before he could see the corner of your mouth twitch.

“why, is it too corny? but you’re smiling,” he pointed out, you could hear his smile.

“no, i’m not.”

“you are,” he said confidently, leaning in just a little like he was trying to see it up close. “it’s cute.”

you flinched back, eyes wide. “don’t say that.”

“why not?” he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “it’s true.”

“oh my god.” you turned so far away from him it was a miracle you didn’t phase through the wall. “stop talking.”

“can’t,” he said, all too happy to keep going. “we’re closer now. shared chicken trauma and all that.”

“that is not a thing.”

“it is,” he nodded confidently. “you can’t just sit in a powerless elevator with someone for hours and pretend you’re strangers afterward. that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”

“scientifically impossible?” you repeated, eyebrows raised. “you’re making things up.”

“and here you are listening to all of it,” he shot back, tilting his head toward you, his gaze a little too sharp.

checkmate.

you opened your mouth, ready to respond, but your brain was buffering..

"that’s what i thought," he said, his voice low and too satisfied, just as the elevator dinged.

the doors opened. he didn’t move right away, gaze lingering on you as if he was waiting for something…or maybe just seeing how long you’d hold it.

“you talk too much,” you muttered, stepping out with your head high like you had the upper hand.

“I think you like it,” he called after you, the amusement in his voice so obvious you could practically hear the grin on his face.

your heart did that annoying skip thing, and this time, you didn’t have an excuse for it.

♡ ♡ ♡

things only got worse after that.

jaemin, apparently, had decided that you were fun to mess with now.

he wasn’t over-the-top about it, though. no, he was too smooth for that. he played it cool, weaving little comments and actions into your interactions. a smile that lingered too long, leaning in just a little too close when he asked a question, throwing casual compliments like they didn’t mean anything.

it was unfair, really. he’d gone from the quiet, polite neighbor, the one who worked long shifts at the hospital and mostly kept to himself, to an actual menace in the span of three days. and somehow, you were the target of all of it.

the first time it happened, you brushed it off as coincidence. the second time, you thought maybe he was just being nice because you shared food with him so perhaps he thought that he owed you. by the third time, you realized: this man was having fun at your expense.

“new hair?” he asked casually one evening as you struggled with your keys outside your door.

you froze, glancing up at him in confusion. “what?”

“your hair,” he repeated, nodding toward you. “looks good.”

your brows furrowed. “it’s the same as always,” you muttered, turning back to the lock that was absolutely refusing to cooperate.

“huh.” he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely surprised. “then i guess it’s just you.”

what does that even mean?!

your hands fumbled, and the key slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor.

jaemin’s laugh was soft but unmistakably amused. “you okay there?”

“don’t you have patients to save or something?” you snapped, crouching down to snatch the key off the ground before he even had the chance to get it for you.

“off duty,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall next to you. his smile had that easy confidence you were beginning to associate with him now. “but i’ll step in if you need medical attention. emotional support counts too.”

you groaned so loud it echoed in the hallway. “i swear, i liked you better when you were quiet.”

“oh, you like me?” he asked, his grin widening just enough to make your stomach flip in protest.

“past tense,” you shot back, finally shoving the key into the lock and turning it with more force than necessary.

“if you say so,” he replied, drawing out the word like he didn’t believe you for a second.

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, turning around with your key in hand, gripping it like a weapon. “how do you live with yourself?”

“one day at a time,” he replied, dead serious.

you shot him a glare as you finally shoved the key into the lock. it turned smoothly this time.

“maybe you should try it,” he added, just as you opened the door.

“try what?” you asked, already regretting engaging.

“living with me,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. he even had the audacity to wink.

you nearly slammed the door in his face.

“goodnight, jaemin,” you snapped, stepping inside.

“sweet dreams, love,” he called after you, his voice warm and smug in a way that lingered.

you closed the door, locked it, and leaned your head against it with a groan that could only be described as deep emotional fatigue.

“then i guess it’s just you.”

you stayed pressed against the door for a little too long, thinking about it.

he’s the worst.

the absolute worst.

♡ ♡ ♡

then came the visiting.

you heard a quiet, rhythmic knock knock knock on your door one night. not frantic, not loud just steady enough to make you pause in the middle of scrolling through your phone.

you frowned. minnie wasn’t the “surprise visit” type, and you definitely hadn’t ordered food. so who…

when you opened the door, he was right there.

jaemin.

he leaned against the doorframe, one arm propped against it, the other tucked into his pocket. his posture was relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with that familiar glint of mischief.

“what do you want?” you asked, gripping the door like it was a shield between you and whatever ridiculousness he was about to say.

“so rude,” he said, mock-offended, though the lazy grin on his face betrayed him. “you invite a guy to share fried chicken once, and suddenly you’re heartless?”

“oh, please.” you stepped back slightly, but you didn’t close the door. “i offered it. don’t act like i saved you from a tragic famine.”

“true,” he agreed, his gaze dropping for a split second, flickering over you like he was trying to catch you off guard. “but since you brought it up, i was thinking about how we never got dessert.”

you blinked, thrown off by the randomness. “what?”

“dessert,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “fried chicken’s great and all, but it’s not a complete meal. we missed out.”

“and what, you came to my door at 9 pm to tell me that?”

“yep.” he rocked back on his heels, completely unbothered. “i figured you owed me by now.”

“owed you?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “for what, exactly?”

“emotional support,” he said, grinning like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “that elevator ride? life-changing experience. bonded for life. it’s only fair you buy me dessert.”

you tried to fight it. you really did. but the laugh slipped out anyway, betraying you.

his grin widened, the kind that wasn’t just smug… it was triumphant.

“fine,” you sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter. “but you’re paying next time.”

“next time?” he echoed, his voice tilting upward just slightly. he leaned forward, close enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. “so you’re already planning our next elevator date?”

oh, this man.

“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, pointing a finger at him while you tapped through your food delivery app. “i might close the door on your face next time.”

“you like me too much to do that,” he said softly, and this time his tone wasn’t teasing.

it was smooth, confident, and just low enough to make you glance up without thinking.

your thumb hovered over your screen for a second too long before you forced yourself to break eye contact. you picked the first dessert you saw just to escape the moment and right before you got to pay he snatched the phone from you and put in his card details.

“so annoying,” you muttered.

“gentlemanly,” he replied easily.

“you’re lucky i’m too tired to throw you out,” you shot back, already regretting how much you were letting him get away with.

“lucky?” he asked, smirking. “i’d say you’re the lucky one. who else brings dessert and great company?”

you groaned, loudly, just to drown him out.

♡ ♡ ♡

thirty minutes later, you were sitting side by side on your couch, barely an inch between you, sharing a container of chocolate lava cake like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“don’t hog it,” you grumbled, jabbing at his hand with your spoon when he took an extra-large bite.

“it’s called portion control,” he argued, entirely unapologetic as he went for another.

“it’s called stealing,” you shot back, scooping up a bigger piece just to even the playing field.

“maybe,” he said, glancing at you with that maddening grin. “but you’re letting me get away with it.”

“only because i don’t want to waste food,” you countered, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.

he leaned back slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours in a way that felt too casual to be an accident.

“you’re really bad at lying, you know that?” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause.

you turned to glare at him, spoon still in hand, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you.

he wasn’t grinning anymore. not exactly.

it wasn’t a smirk or a joke or one of those teasing little quips he always threw your way. it was… softer. almost curious.

your heart stuttered before you could stop it.

“and you’re annoying,” you said again, but this time it came out quieter.

his lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.

“you already said that but i think it loses meaning when you let me hang out with you for this long,” he murmured.

you didn’t reply. you couldn’t. not when the air felt so… different.

so instead, you turned back to the TV, grabbed another spoonful of lava cake, and shoved it into your mouth as an excuse to not say anything.

he chuckled softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the TV.

♡ ♡ ♡

the next few days went by pretty much the same. whenever you bumped into jaemin in the hallway, the parking lot, or even at the local cafe, his eyes would lock on you like a heat-seeking missile, ready to tease you in a way that you hated to admit was starting to feel oddly enjoyable.

but everything escalated the day minnie came to visit you.

it had been a while since you two last saw each other, given that she lived in a different city. as soon as she arrived, you were buzzing with excitement. but you’d forgotten one crucial thing… minnie had a rare, borderline supernatural ability to drive you absolutely insane.

“i can't believe you had a second chicken date with him and still didn’t jump his bones… have i taught you nothing?” she said, exasperated as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. dawson’s creek reruns were playing in the background, and as if that show didn’t depress you enough, minnie’s relentless criticism of your non-existent love life was making it worse.

“it wasn’t a chicken date,” you groaned. “we had cake. and why would i jump his bones when we’ve only just started speaking more than two words to each other like, last week?”

“you don’t get it,” minnie said, turning to face you with the gravity of someone about to lecture you. “a man doesn’t just knock on your door asking you to have dessert with him unless he has a different idea of what 'dessert' is.” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“ew, don’t make that face,” you winced.

“i’m serious, y/n. if you keep shutting down every man that’s interested in you, the only dick you’ll get is that inflatable one i got you.”

“not even,” you sighed, slumping against the couch. “i haven’t taken it out of the box yet. and i won’t. that thing already embarrassed me enough for the next two lifetimes.”

“but if you think about it, if it weren’t for tom, you’d still be secretly crushing on dr. mcdreamy.”

“you did not just name the sex doll tom,” you said, eyes narrowing.

“i think we should at least go out tonight since you’re clearly not gonna put the moves on your sexy neighbor.”

“absolutely not,” you shook your head, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “ i’m not about to waste my night talking to any guy who thinks 'intellectual debate' means arguing about protein powder.”

“okay, harsh… no wonder you’re single,” she muttered as she got up and started tapping away on her phone.

“who’re you calling?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously.

“there’s only one person who can drag you out of this apartment,” she muttered with a sly grin. "hold on—hello? jake? yeah, guess who i’m with right now?" she paused dramatically, glancing at you with a wicked smile. "your favorite girl, obviously!" she snickered, tilting her phone just enough to snap a photo of you mid-protest.

“dude, c’mon, i’m in my grandma pjs right now,” you said, pointing at the flowery pajama top you were wearing.

“how about we meet up at the neo club? yeah? awesome, and bring one of your hot friends,” she added, grinning like a cat that just cornered a bird.

she hung up, looking triumphant, but you folded your arms with a scowl.

“there’s no way i’m going out,” you said flatly.

♡ ♡ ♡

you still ended up going out.

but only because they offered to pay for all your drinks, and who were you to refuse such a generous offer?

it didn’t take long to spot jake. he was already stirring up trouble at the bar, his charm dialed up to 100 as he leaned in close, tossing out some line that had the bartender blushing so hard she had to look away just to keep it together.

“ugh, casanovas make me sick,” you grumbled, scrunching your nose as you watched him.

“stop harassing the lady, jake,” minnie said, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him away from the bar. he turned around with a mock-offended gasp.

“excuse you, she was absolutely enjoying that,” he said with an infuriating level of confidence. he wasn’t even wrong—the bartender was still grinning.

“whatever, tiger. look who’s out of her cave!” minnie announced, shoving you forward slightly.

jake’s eyes lit up the second he saw you. he practically lunged forward, wrapping you in a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

“no way! my y/n! it’s been, what, four years since i last saw you?” he spun you in a small circle before finally setting you down.

“please don’t be so dramatic. we saw each other last year on your birthday,” you laughed, shoving his chest.

“too long for me, babe. you know seeing you is always a treat,” he said, giving you one of those overly saccharine smiles he knew would make you roll your eyes.

“when are you ever not flirting? is that your default mode? is there any way to reset you?” you said, tapping his forehead like you were trying to reboot a broken phone.

“you know you love it,” he winked, and somehow it was both annoying and charming at the same time.

“anyways, where are the drinks i was promised?” you extended a hand expectantly.

“here you go, princess,” he said, handing you a tequila sunrise with a flourish. “and here you go, troll,” he added, handing minnie a margarita.

“i’ll kill you,” minnie slapped his arm hard enough to make him flinch.

“ow, abuse! abuse!” he cried dramatically, clutching his arm as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“you’ll live,” minnie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.

the night was already off to a wild start, and you had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.

♡ ♡ ♡

“so you’re telling me the box with all the freaky shit minnie sent ended up being delivered to your neighbor?” jake was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “and he opened it?”

“yeah, laugh it up,” you said, unamused as you swirled the straw in your drink before taking a long sip. you’d lost count of how many drinks you’d had, but the warmth in your chest and the slight buzz in your head told you it was definitely more than a couple.

“if i were you, i would’ve moved,” he said, wiping at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “i’m trying to think of a time i’ve been that embarrassed and not even my drunkest moments come close.” he shook his head like he genuinely felt bad for you, though the grin on his face said otherwise.

“believe me, i tried to avoid him,” you said, gesturing with your drink in hand. “but somehow, after that, he started sticking to me like gum on a shoe.”

“i’m telling you, he wants you!” minnie slurred, her eyes barely staying focused as she swayed slightly in her seat. clearly, she was the drunkest one at the table, her words carrying that telltale wobble of too many cocktails.

“don’t start with that again,” you shot back, tossing a napkin in her direction. “he doesn’t want me. he just likes messing with me because he figured out i’m an easy target.”

“oh, really?” she said, eyes narrowing like she’d just come up with the most brilliant plan. “then call him right now. and if he answers, put him on speaker.”

“like hell i will,” you snorted, glancing at your phone. “it’s-” you checked the time “…literally 3am. why would i disturb him just to prove your silly little theories?”

“coward! coward!” minnie started chanting, slapping the table. jake immediately caught on and joined her, their voices syncing up in a way that only drunk friends could manage. “coward! y/n is a chicken!” they sang in unison, making sure to drag out the last word obnoxiously.

“ugh, why do i have friends like you two…” you muttered, covering your ears as their chanting grew louder. “okay! fine! stop that right now, i’ll text him. once.” you jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis, giving them both a stern glare that did absolutely nothing to dim their excitement.

“what do i even say…” you groaned, staring at your empty chat with jaemin.

“send him a picture,” jake suggested.

you thought about it for a second, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “fine,” you muttered, lifting your phone. fueled by alcohol and peer pressure, you decided on the classic "oops, wrong person" strategy. you snapped a quick selfie, pursing your lips into a kissy face for maximum effect. you didn’t even care that it was blurry or that you looked very obviously drunk. in fact, that made it funnier. you snickered to yourself as you hit send.

“he won’t reply, guys,” you said confidently, tossing your phone onto the table face-down. but barely ten seconds passed before you heard the unmistakable ping of a new message.

“you were saying?” minnie arched a brow, crossing her arms in mock satisfaction.

“it’s probably just some random notification,” you said with a shrug, but your voice wavered as you picked up your phone. you tapped the screen, eyes widening slightly at the name that appeared.

jaemin neighbor (3:02am): ‘thought you weren’t one to party hard?’

the message was punctuated with a little smirk emoji that somehow made it worse.

“what’d he say?” minnie asked, leaning in so far you thought she might topple over.

you barely had time to answer before another message popped up.

jaemin neighbor (3:03am): ‘don’t drink too much though, you’re still recovering from that cold. and don’t let strangers hold your drink.’

your eyes stayed glued to the screen, heart doing an odd little flip that you refused to acknowledge.

“oh my god, he’s worried,” minnie gasped, hands flying to her face. “he’s literally whipped!” she squealed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth with unhinged glee.

♡ ♡ ♡

after seeing jaemin's message, you decided you needed to get drunker to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head. by the time you got back to the apartment, your uber driver had to practically haul you out of the car. you were a complete mess, your feet barely cooperating with the ground beneath you. minnie ended up hitting it off with jake’s friend so she decided to leave with him to do god knows what dirty things.

“woah there!” you yelped as you stumbled, nearly falling backward.

“ma’am, what’s your apartment number?” the driver asked. all you could do was laugh and mumble some random string of numbers that didn’t come close to making sense.

“y/n?” a familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind, sharp and clear like a bell. it almost sobered you up on the spot. he was wearing his scrubs and his tired appearance told you that he was coming back from a long shift.

“mr. doctor is here!” you announced with unrestrained glee, throwing your arms up. the sudden movement made you lose balance, and you tilted sideways bumping into the driver.

“you know her, sir?” he asked, his forehead shiny with sweat, clearly desperate for an exit out of this.

“uhm, yeah, she’s my next-door neighbor. i’ll take it from here, thanks,” jaemin said, stepping in with the calm authority of someone who’s seen this exact scenario a dozen times before. with zero effort, he crouched down and hoisted you onto his back, his hands steady under your thighs to keep you secure.

“wheee!” you squealed, your cheek smushed against the back of his head.

“hold on tight, yeah?” he muttered, his tone dry but fond as he adjusted his grip on your legs.

inside the elevator, you got bold. maybe it was the tequila, maybe it was just you accepting your undeniable attraction to jaemin, but your hands found their way to his arms. you gave his biceps an experimental squeeze and then hummed, thoroughly impressed. “do all doctors got big, muscular arms or just you?” you asked, squeezing again as if conducting a very important scientific investigation.

jaemin’s lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. “do you always get this touchy when you’re drunk?” he replied, shifting you slightly higher on his back.

“oh wow, you smell so good,” you said, burying your nose in his hair. “like… like one of those fancy candles you’re not supposed to light cause they’re too expensive.” you giggled against his head, completely oblivious to the way his ears flushed pink at the compliment.

“i told you not to drink too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “this is dangerous, you know.”

“sorryyyyyy,” you whined, dragging out the word. “but you know what they say about alcohol… uh, ‘wine before whiskey, you’re feelin’ frisky’?” you squinted, clearly thinking very hard.

jaemin tilted his head, giving you a side-eye full of disbelief and amusement. “that’s absolutely not the saying,” he said, his voice low and warm with a hint of laughter.

“no?” you pouted. “then it’s… ‘drinks before thoughts, memories get lost!’” you declared with absolute confidence.

he let out a full, genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking under you as he carried you down the hallway. “close enough,” he muttered.

♡ ♡ ♡

in front of your door, you squinted at the digital lock like it had personally wronged you. you pressed one button, then another, and frowned when the screen blinked angrily. your brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and trying to remember your code right was harder than trying to solve a riddle while underwater.

“ugh, whatever,” you groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the floor, legs sprawled out.

“what are you doing?” jaemin's voice came from above, and when you tilted your head back, you saw him crouched in front of you, eyebrows raised.

“can’t remember the code, so m’ sleeping here. duh,” you replied with the kind of lazy confidence and lack of urgency only drunk people have. you reached out and booped him on the nose simply because he looked cute like a bunny in your inebriated mind.

he blinked, clearly thrown, before a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “no, you’re not,” he said, shaking his head. he stood up, offering his hand. “come on.”

“ugh, fiiine,” you groaned, letting him pull you up, though you were basically dead weight. he slipped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the warmth of his hand pressed against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. the touch was casual but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through you.

you bit your lip to distract yourself from the sudden rush of heat. blame it on the alcohol. definitely the alcohol.

“i never sleep in a guy’s apartment ‘til…” you held up your hand and started counting on your fingers, lips moving as you mumbled to yourself. “like the 6th date.”

“that so?” jaemin glanced at you, his voice raspy in a way that made something flip in your stomach.

“mmhm,” you hummed, leaning your weight against him. “gotta have rules, y’know? safety first.”

“you’re not wrong,” he replied, guiding you toward his door with slow, careful steps. “but that logic’s got a flaw, don’t you think?”

you squinted up at him, skeptical. “what flaw?”

“you’re here with me, and we’re not even on date three,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look.

you tried to ignore the fact that he considered the elevator and that night at your apartment as dates.

“that’s different,” you countered, waving a hand like that somehow made you right.

he glanced down at you, eyes sharp but soft in the way they flickered across your face. “how?”

you blinked, suddenly too aware of the space between you two — or the lack of it. his arm was firm around your waist, and you could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

“you tell me, doc,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

there was a brief silence, just the quiet hum of the hallway lights and the soft shuffle of your feet. his fingers curled slightly against your hip, the pressure grounding but gentle. when he spoke again, his tone had shifted — quieter, steadier.

“i’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said, voice sure like a promise. his eyes met yours, serious in a way that knocked the air right out of your lungs.

you didn’t have a quick comeback for that one.

he held your gaze for a moment longer before clearing his throat, eyes flicking away. “anyway,” he said, his voice back to its usual steady calm, “you can sit for a bit. i’ll get you some tea and food, sober you up.”

“huh?” you blinked, your tipsy mind still trying to catch up after that intense moment you just shared.

“sit,” he repeated, guiding you toward the couch like you were a stubborn cat. “tea. food. you’ll thank me later.”

you flopped onto the couch with zero grace, still buzzing from everything.

your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t half as uncomfortable as the rapid thumping of your heart against your chest. it wasn’t normal. it couldn’t be normal. you pressed a hand to your chest like that might somehow slow it down.

“what is this…” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back against the couch.

you were spiraling, no doubt about it. overthinking everything. it’s just jaemin, you reminded yourself. your neighbor. your kind neighbor. of course he’d say stuff like that. he’s a good person, and good people say things like "i’d never hurt you" all the time, right? it didn’t mean anything. didn’t mean a single thing.

calm down, y/n.

you blew out a slow breath, trying to trick your heart into believing you were unbothered.

jaemin came back moments later, a cup of tea in one hand and a small plate of buttered toast in the other. he’d ditched his jacket, now in just a fitted black t-shirt and scrub pants. you weren’t sure what was more distracting… the way the fabric clung to his chest and arms, or the way the veins in his forearms stood out as he set the plate down. you stared a little too long, gaze following the flex of his muscles.

he’s just a guy, you thought, just a guy with arms that look like they were carved out of marble.

“okay, drink this,” he said, nudging the tea toward you. his voice had slipped into his "doctor tone", soft but firm, like he fully expected to be obeyed. “you’ll feel better. if you feel dizzy or like you’re gonna throw up, let me know. i’ll go shower real quick, and you can shower after.”

he disappeared into his room before you could respond

you sat there for a second, letting the silence settle around you. without him there, you finally took a proper look at his place. it was weirdly nice for a building as old and shabby as this one. sleek, modern furniture, spotless floors, a faint scent of something woodsy and clean. candles lined the windowsill, and he had an at-home gym tucked neatly in one corner.

of course he does, you thought, he’s probably too busy saving lives to hit a real gym.

you bit your lip, remembering the way his arms had felt around your waist. the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of your shirt. and now, after seeing how built he actually was, it was starting to make a lot more sense.

“ugh, stop it,” you muttered, shaking your head. it was just the alcohol messing with you. that, and the fact that you were definitely ovulating because there was no way you’d be acting like this otherwise. the combination was lethal.

you reached for the tea, eager for something to snap you out of your head, but the second you took a sip—

“ah—!” you yelped, dropping the cup. hot liquid splashed onto the floor, the mug clattering after it. thankfully, it missed your legs but your tongue throbbed like you’d just bitten into molten lava.

“shit,” you hissed, sticking your tongue out like that might cool it down.

“what happened?” jaemin’s voice came from the bathroom, sharp with concern.

“‘s fine!” you tried to call back, but with your tongue still stinging, it came out garbled. “ihz ohkaay!”

the sound of the shower stopped. you barely had a second to panic before jaemin burst into the living room, dripping wet, a loose towel slung dangerously low on his hips.

you froze.

oh.

oh my god.

if this were an anime, you’d have shot out a nosebleed so powerful it’d blast you into another dimension.

“what happened?” he asked, eyes darting to the mess on the floor, then back to you. he crouched beside you, eyes scanning you likely looking for injuries. water dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp planes of his face, his chest, his abs…

his abs.

your gaze locked on the V-line that dipped beneath the edge of his towel, and your brain short-circuited. every coherent thought you’d ever had dissolved on the spot. you didn’t even realize you’d spoken aloud until you heard your own voice.

“oh my god.”

jaemin blinked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “what?”

“n-nothing!” you stammered, face heating faster than the tea had. you slapped a hand over your eyes like that might erase the image from your mind. it did not. it was burned in.

he frowned, his puppy-dog concern on full display. “i’m sorry, i should’ve warned you the tea was hot.” his gaze shifted to your tongue, still sticking out as you tried to cool it with air. his frown deepened.

“izzokay,” you said, or at least tried to. with your tongue swollen and numb, it sounded more like “iz okeh, iz my fauwt.”

“hold on,” he said, his tone dropping into doctor mode. “stay put. you might cut yourself on the glass.”

he moved with quick precision, ducking into the kitchen and coming back with a towel and some paper towels to clean up. you, unfortunately, had nothing to do but sit there and watch him. and watch him you did.

the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement. the flex of his back, the dip of his hips, the subtle pull of his abs as he crouched to pick up shards of glass. you sat there like a fool, cheeks blazing, unable to look away.

he could model for anatomy textbooks, you thought, completely mesmerized. like, imagine turning to page 47 and seeing this man labeled as "muscular system: front view."

every part of him moved with that annoying grace certain people just had. the kind of grace that was only possible when you were stupidly, unfairly attractive.

he wiped the floor clean and tossed the paper towels aside, giving one final glance at the spot to make sure there wasn’t a single shard left behind. then he turned to you.

“all clear,” he said, standing to his full height. the towel on his hips slipped slightly lower, and your gaze shot to the ceiling so fast you almost got whiplash.

“thanks,” you muttered, trying to keep your eyes anywhere but there. you still saw it in your peripheral vision.

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “you sure you’re okay?”

am i okay? absolutely not. your tongue was burnt, your pride was in pieces, and your brain was playing a slow-motion highlight reel of his abs. you were the furthest thing from okay.

“yep,” you croaked, voice cracking at the end.

“here you go,” he said, handing you a glass of cold water. “it should help your tongue.”

“thanks,” you mumbled, cradling the glass with both hands. you refused to look directly at him, eyes darting everywhere in the room. the slow drip of condensation on the glass suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.

“are you hot? you’re sweating,” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze landing on you with that soft concern he wore too easily.

you nearly spat the water back out. of course you were hot. this whole situation was hot. the room was hot. he was hot.

“it’s fine,” you blurted, shaking your head a little too quickly. “i’ll just shower.”

“yeah, sure. go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the hallway. “bathroom’s the door on the left.”

he glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your dress just briefly. instinctively, you tugged at the hem like that would magically make it longer. you should’ve known minnie was setting you up when she called this look “casually dangerous.”

“your clothes…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “they don’t look super comfortable to sleep in, so if you want, i can lend you something.”

there was no reason for your heart to leap into your throat the way it did. it was a normal offer. a completely normal, helpful offer. but your brain decided to be weird about it. suddenly, you were picturing yourself in one of his shirts, fabric hanging loose on you, the scent of detergent and him faintly clinging to it. god, you needed help.

“okay,” you said, trying to sound normal, but it came out too fast.

“i’ll grab them for you,” he said, already heading toward his room.

as soon as he disappeared, you collapsed against the couch, exhaling hard like you’d just survived a boss fight. you dragged your hands down your face, letting out a muffled groan.

“pull it together,” you hissed at yourself.

walking into the bathroom didn’t help. the warmth hit you instantly, soft steam curling in the air. it smelled like aftershave and clean skin, and if there was a single coherent thought left in your brain, it got drowned out by the sensory overload.

“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, tilting your head back with a groan. “what am i, thirteen?”

the mirror was fogged up, so you wiped at it with your sleeve, only to be faced with your own reflection staring back at you like girl, really? you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the warmth that had nothing to do with the steam.

“i’m normal,” you announced firmly to no one but yourself.

except you weren’t, and you knew it. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your brain short-circuit anymore. you were sober now, and this was just you being ridiculous. the neatly folded clothes on the counter didn’t help. a plain white shirt and a pair of sweatpants sat there, fresh and clean.

you eyed the sweatpants, then glanced down at your legs, already knowing how this was gonna play out. still, you gave it a shot, pulling them up your legs after taking a (very) long shower. unsurprisingly, they swallowed you whole, the cuffs dragging behind you. yeah, no. you’d trip over yourself in less than a minute. sighing, you snatched up the shirt instead and pulled it over your head. it slipped down past your hips, the sleeves flopping well past your hands, turning them into little paw-like stubs.

“this will have to do,” you decided with a sharp nod to yourself.

when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, jaemin was lounging on the couch, scrolling on his phone. his gaze flickered up at you, and for a split second, he just blinked, eyes tracking down your frame before quickly darting back to his phone.

“where are the pants?” he asked, lips quirking up just slightly at the corner.

“too big,” you said.

“hmm” he hummed, looking up and letting his gaze drag just a little slower this time, eyes sharp with mischief. his tongue pressed against his cheek, a lopsided grin threatening to break free. “i see”

if your heart was pounding before, it was in full percussion solo mode now. but you just flopped down beside him, acting like everything was cool, like you weren’t hyperaware of every inch of bare skin peeking out from under the too-big shirt.

you glanced at the clock on the wall — 4:30 a.m. blinked back at you in dim red light. too late to be awake but too early to call it morning. your eyes shifted to jaemin, and you could see the weight of exhaustion hanging on him. his blinks were slower, his body slouched deeper into the couch cushions.

“jaem…” the nickname slipped out without warning, soft but certain. his eyes lifted to you immediately.

“you can go to sleep. i’m fine,” you said with a small smile, hoping it was convincing. “and… thank you. for everything. you’re too nice to me.”

his gaze lingered on you, steady and unguarded, like he was committing you to memory. then, his lips curved slowly into a smile. not his usual teasing grin but something gentler, sweeter. it hit you square in the chest, and you had to physically fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

you did not win that fight.

instead, you moved on instinct… leaning in and wrapping your arms around him. the moment you did, you panicked. it felt stiff, clumsy, like you’d misread the whole situation. you were just about to pull away when his arms slid around your waist, slow but sure.

he pulled you in, pulled you all the way in, until you were practically draped over him. your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding so hard you swore he could feel it.

his head dipped down, face tucked into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath hit your skin in soft bursts, and his hold on you tightened just a little more.

“it’s my pleasure,” he murmured, voice low and raspier than it had been all night. his lips brushed against your collarbone as he spoke, “always.”

good god, you nearly let out a sound you’d never be able to live down. every nerve in your body was on high alert. it had been so long since you’d been held like this.

his nose nudged against your neck lazily. you felt the butterflies in your stomach riot, wings frantic against your ribs.

“jaem…” you said, but it came out too soft, too breathless to sound like an actual warning.

“you smell good,” he muttered, voice all sleep and satisfaction. “you always smell good.” he breathed you in.

lord, have mercy.

“i think we should both sleep,” you murmured, but neither of you moved. neither of you even thought about moving.

“yeah,” he said, voice low and uneven.

“yeah,” you echoed, but it sounded less like agreement and more like an excuse for staying right where you were.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, but his arms stayed firmly around your waist. his eyes flickered down to your lips. on reflex, you wet them with a quick swipe of your tongue, suddenly self-conscious. his gaze darkened and you swore you felt the shift in the air.

“stop me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but stopping him didn’t even cross your mind. not when he was looking at you like that. not when his face inched closer, closer…

his lips met yours softly at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide. you decided quickly. your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him in as you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in all night.

he responded instantly. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you in place, deepening the kiss until it wasn’t soft anymore.

his other hand found your hip, gripping you firmly as he shifted you on top of him, his touch guiding you like he knew exactly where he wanted you to be. dangerous. this was so, so dangerous.

because you were only wearing that stupidly oversized shirt and the flimsy scrap of underwear underneath it. and when you settled fully onto his lap, you felt everything.

he must’ve felt it too, because his breath stuttered, and a needy groan escaped him, muffled against your lips. you felt it vibrate through your whole body, made you shiver as if he’d pressed his mouth to your spine instead.

his hand on your hip squeezed, fingers digging in just a little harder.

the kiss grew messier, wetter, breaths and tongues tangled together in a way that felt far past the point of no return. it didn’t help that his other hand left your neck, sliding down, fingertips trailing along your side before slipping under the hem of the shirt.

his hand slid up and up until…

he froze the second he realized. his palm pressed against bare skin, no bra, no barrier. you felt his breath hitch at the same moment you heard it.

“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his voice rougher now, heavier. his fingers spread wide, covering as much skin as he could reach, his palm warm and steady against your ribs.

and when his thumb brushed up, grazing just barely under the curve of your breast, the sound you made was far too needy. his gaze flicked back up to yours. like he was asking. like he was giving you one last out.

you didn’t take it.

his hand moved again, bolder this time. his palm slid over the curve of your breast, warm and firm, fingers curling around it as if it belonged to him. you sighed at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as your head tipped forward. it wasn’t enough. you didn’t know what “enough” would be, but it wasn’t this.

he must’ve felt it too, because his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles. he tilted your face up, and for a moment, you thought he’d kiss you again. you tilted toward him, lips parting, but he had other plans.

instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips just beneath your ear. the warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could even process that, he was moving lower. he kissed his way along your neck, slow and steady, with the kind of patience that made your heart feel like it was on a countdown.

and then the kisses changed. his teeth grazed your skin, his lips sealed over the spot, and he sucked hard enough to make you gasp. your hands flew up, gripping at his shoulders as he trailed love bites down to your collarbones, marking you in a way that felt possessive, the kind you’d see after he was gone.

“jaemin,” you whispered, your fingers digging into his shirt. his name barely sounded like a name anymore.

his only answer was a low hum against your collarbone, his hand still working under your shirt. his fingers traced lazy lines along the sensitive skin beneath your breast, and just when you thought he was going to stay gentle, he pinched your nipple between his fingers.

you gasped sharply, hips jolting forward on reflex. “oh—”

he didn’t stop. he rolled it slowly between his fingers, feeling out every little reaction you gave him, every twitch and shiver. your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, and the way he smiled against your neck told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

instinct took over before you could think it through. your hips rocked forward against his lap — once, twice — chasing relief from the ache that had been building low in your stomach for too long. you felt the slickness between your thighs, hot and damp, soaking through the thin fabric of your underwear and seeping onto his sweatpants.

he felt it too. you knew he did from the sharp intake of breath he took, from the way his hands squeezed tighter his fingers digging into your hip, his other hand cupping your breast with just a little more pressure.

“fuck,” he groaned, head falling forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. his hips shifted beneath you, his arousal impossible to miss now. he was hard, and every roll of your hips dragged against him perfectly, making him curse under his breath.

the heat of it all was unbearable, and you had no one to blame but yourself. but at this point, did it even matter?

he lifted his head, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded. his gaze flickered from your face to where your hips met his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips

“i don't know how much longer i can hold back…” his voice was strained.

you blinked down at him, heart thudding hard against your ribs. every nerve in your body felt like it had been lit on fire, but somehow, you still managed to smile.

“who told you to hold back?”you said, voice soft but sure.

“shit…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, guiding them down against him with a deliberate pressure that had your breath hitching in your throat.

it wasn’t just you moving anymore. he was moving you, rocking you back and forth against him faster, tired of pretending you weren’t both desperate for it.

your head tipped back as a broken moan spilled from your lips. the friction was too good, just the right amount of pressure to have your thighs trembling. the heat between you had gone from warm to blistering, every grind making you more sensitive, more aware of the damp mess you were both making between his sweatpants and your underwear.

his eyes locked on you, not wanting to miss a single second of it… the arch of your back, the part of your lips, the way your breath caught every time you sank down a little harder.

“look at you,” he breathed, voice rough and half-laughing. “getting this worked up over a little humping”

you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “i’m clearly not the only one,” you shot back breathlessly..

his lips were back on you in an instant, rougher than before, all teeth and tongue. his hands slid up your back, under his shirt you were wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. his nails scratched lightly at your spine, sending chills down your whole body, and you gasped into his mouth.

he didn’t let you pull away. his lips chased yours, like he’d been starving for this, like now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he was stopping. he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and your body moved on instinct, hips rolling harder against him.

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. his hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tight as if to ground himself, but all it did was spur you on.

you leaned forward, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, biting just enough to feel him shudder beneath you. his pulse was wild under your lips, and when you grazed your teeth against it, his hips bucked up so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs.

“you’re making it so hard to be soft right now,” he said through gritted teeth, head tipped back, neck bared for you like an invitation. his eyes flicked down to where you sat on him, where the line between you two had blurred so badly it didn’t seem to exist anymore.

“then don’t be,” you whispered against his ear, biting down on the lobe just to hear him curse again. “nobody asked you to be soft.”

that was all it took. his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with purpose. his next move was fast—you were on your back before you could register it, his body hovering over you, his weight pressing you down in a way that made your heart race in your chest.

his eyes met yours, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his face. he looked like a mess and it was perfect.

“say that again,” he said, voice nothing but gravel and breath. his hands slid up your thighs, pushing them apart, the slow drag of his touch enough to make you squirm. “say it again so i know you mean it.”

your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and you reached up, fingers threading through his hair.

“nobody,” you whispered, tugging his head down just enough to make sure he heard you, “asked you to be soft.”

for a second, he didn’t move. just stared down at you like he’d never wanted anything more in his life than to eat you up.

then he leaned in, and when he kissed you this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative or testing the waters. it was raw, hungry, and so deep it knocked the air out of you. his hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs, pushing his shirt higher and higher until the air hit bare skin.

everything was heat and pressure and need. he was all you could feel, all you could hear — his breath heavy and uneven, his name falling from your lips like it was the only word you knew.

and when he finally pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting to hold himself together, you knew you’d both already lost.

the next thing you know, his hands are tugging your shirt up and over your head, the fabric barely brushing past your arms before it’s gone. the cold air hits your skin for half a second before jaemin’s mouth replaces it, hot and relentless as he traces the curve of your collarbone, his lips dragging lower, slower.

when his mouth finally closes around your right breast, it’s warm and wet and just enough to have you mewling. his tongue flicks over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just lightly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight down to your core.

his free hand slides lower, fingers trailing down your stomach, over your hip, and slipping beneath the waistband of your lace underwear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he moves without hesitation, fingers seeking out the slick mess waiting for him, and the second he finds it, he lets out a low, rough groan against your skin.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters, pulling off your breast with a slick pop, his breath fanning across your skin. he glances down between your legs, his gaze so heavy you feel it like a touch. his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s hungry just looking at you.

he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down in one slow pull, eyes locked on you like he’s scared to blink and miss it. the fabric barely makes it past your knee before he’s already looking back up at you, his pupils blown wide, lips parted with the kind of need that makes your chest feel too tight.

“let me eat you out,” he says, and his voice is rough and desperate.

you bite your lip like you’re thinking it over, but you know you’re going to say yes. you just like seeing him like this — all unsteady and breathless, too far gone to hide it.

“please,” he says again, this time more ragged, his voice cracking at the end like he might actually lose it if you make him wait any longer.

“okay,” you say, and it’s all he needs.

he’s on you in a heartbeat, sliding down your body so fast it’s dizzying. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling them apart, spreading you wide until there’s nowhere left to hide. his gaze flicks up one last time, meeting yours like he’s checking, like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.

but you don’t. you won’t.

he presses his fingers to your folds, parting you slowly, exposing everything to him, and the breath he takes is deep, like he’s savoring the moment before the fall.

then he leans in.

his nose brushes against you first, just a soft nudge that has your hips twitching on instinct. then his tongue follows in one long, slow drag from bottom to top that has your breath stuttering in your chest. his grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your skin like he’s steadying himself as much as you.

he moans against you, a deep, satisfied sound that you feel as much as hear, and his tongue dives back in, licking at you like you’re his favorite thing to taste. the movements are slow at first, deliberate, his tongue exploring every part of you like he’s trying to figure out exactly what makes you fall apart.

and you are falling apart.

your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting as you let out a shaky, breathless moan. your hips twitch up, and his hands are right there to hold you down, keeping you still as his tongue moves with more certainty, more purpose, licking you with long, messy strokes that make you gasp.

his mouth doesn’t slow, if anything, it grows more determined. his tongue moves with precision now, circling that sensitive spot before flicking against it in quick, teasing bursts that have your hips jumping despite his firm grip.

“fuck, jaem—” your voice breaks on his name, your hands gripping the sides of the couch, searching for something, anything to ground yourself. but there’s nothing. nothing but him, his mouth, the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat building low in your stomach.

he groans again, the vibration shooting through you, his tongue flattening against you before he drags it up,

“taste so sweet,” he murmurs into you, his voice muffled, every word spoken straight into your skin.

“could stay here all night.”

the heat in your belly twists tighter at that, something about the way he says it, like he means it, like he’d ruin himself for this… for you. you’re already too close, and he knows it. he can feel it in the way your thighs tense, in the way your breath catches and your hips press up into him like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach.

he hums in satisfaction, his lips wrapping around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking just once, just enough to make your whole body jolt.

“god, jaem, i’m—” you don’t even finish the sentence before it hits you, crashing over you in waves so intense you forget how to breathe. you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a silent cry as the pleasure hits you all at once, white-hot and overwhelming. he doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking against you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body like he’s determined to pull it all out of you.

your fingers find his hair, tugging hard, half to ground yourself and half to make him stop because it’s all too much. he groans at the pull, but it only seems to spur him on, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you pressed against his mouth like he’s not done with you yet.

“jaemin,” you say it firmer this time, tugging again, and finally, finally he pulls back, his lips and chin shiny with evidence of what he’s done.

“couldn’t help myself,” he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth like he’s savoring every last bit of you. his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, his hair a mess from where you tugged at it.

“you look so pretty when you cum,” he says, voice low and husky, and you hate the way your heart lurches in your chest as if he’s just said something sweet.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, still catching your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“crazy for you,” he fires back, grin widening like he knows how corny it is and says it anyway.

and for some reason, it makes you laugh. a soft, breathy thing you can’t hold back.

in one smooth motion, he’s crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face as he settles his weight over you. his lips press to yours, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier, like he’s reminding you exactly where that mouth has just been. you taste yourself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

“not done with you yet,” he says against your lips, his hips pressing down against yours, and fuck, you feel how hard he is, the thick, solid pressure pressing right where you need it.

“then don’t stop,” your fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly.

he flashed a wicked grin, and before you could process it, you let out a startled squeal as he hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. his arms were firm around your legs, his shoulder pressing into your stomach, and you could feel the strength in every stride as he carried you from the living room to his bedroom.

"jaemin!" you protested, your fists lightly tapping his back, but it only made him chuckle.

"keep squirming, baby. see where that gets you," he teased.

he laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. the cool, fresh scent of his sheets surrounded you, soft fabric meeting warm skin. it was a fleeting comfort, though. you both knew they wouldn’t stay this neat for long.

jaemin peeled off his shirt with one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. you bit your lip as he kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. his gaze was locked on you, dark eyes brimming with heat and amusement, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

you watched mesmerized as he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fingers searching until they found a small foil packet. he ripped it open with practiced ease, and when the condom rolled out into his palm, your eyes widened.

"that’s not the right size," you blurted out, half-laughing. "no way."

his eyebrows lifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "oh? wanna bet?"

then his boxers hit the floor.

oh.

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of his dick. heat flooded your face. what the hell.

“close your mouth, baby,” he said, smirking. “unless you’re planning to put it to use.”

"shut up," you muttered, glancing away, cheeks blazing. "are you gonna do it or not?"

“do what?” he asked innocently, even as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his body. he hovered just above you, his grin infuriatingly smug.

“you know what.”

“hmm. don’t think i do,” he murmured, eyes dropping to your lips. “wanna say it for me, pretty girl?”

you pressed your lips together, heart thudding in your chest harder every second. you could feel the weight of him, his warmth, the tension that hung in the air like a live wire.

“fuck… me, jaem,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “louder, baby. i know you can be louder.”

he wasn’t wrong. flashes of earlier moments filled your mind, the way you were moaning and whimpering definitely wasn’t quiet. you swallowed the last bit of your hesitation.

“fuck me. please.”

he hummed, satisfied, his grin softening as he hooked his hands behind your knees and tugged you down toward him. you let out a quiet gasp, suddenly flat on your back, with him positioned directly above you. his body hovered just close enough that every shift of movement made you feel him.

your eyes flickered up to his face, and for a second, he wasn’t teasing anymore. his gaze was steady, searching, his eyes dark but kind. he reached out, fingertips tracing your jawline with such tenderness it made you ache in a different way.

“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, letting you know he’d stop everything if you said no.

your heart swelled at the care in his voice.

you nodded, fingers curling around his shoulders.

he leaned in, close enough for his breath to fan across your face. “need words, love.”

“i’m okay, jaem,” you said more firmly, gazing up at him.

his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he nodded. he took a pillow and carefully placed it behind your lower back

"good girl," he murmured.

he shifted, his hands steady on your hips, grounding you as he lined himself up. the anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach, a nervous, thrilling buzz. you felt him prodding at your entrance, he swiped his tip up and down, the action made you clench in anticipation. he eased in, inch by inch, the stretch stealing every ounce of air from your lungs.

his head dropped, forehead pressed against yours, jaw tense as his eyes squeezed shut. a soft curse left his lips. “fuck, so… so tight,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still.

the moans spilling from your lips mixed with his name, coming out soft and unrestrained. every inch of him felt like too much, the kind of stretch that made your breath catch and your nails press into his shoulders. it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and even back then, no one had ever filled you like this. jaemin was thicker, longer, and the difference was impossible to ignore.

"baby, if you keep squeezing me like that…" he laughed breathlessly, his fingers drawing slow, steady circles on your hip like he was trying to soothe you. “i might not make it all the way in.”

“s’rry, you’re… just too big,” you muttered, voice coming out more wrecked than you intended.

he bit down on his lip, eyes flicking down to where you were connected. the sight alone was about to undo him. "yeah?" he breathed, a little too satisfied with himself. his hand slid up, fingers pressing into your waist just a bit harder, grounding you in place as he pushed in deeper.

the pressure was overwhelming, every slow inch making you feel like you might fall apart right there beneath him. and the deeper he went, the more you swore you wouldn’t last long. the tight, aching pull in your stomach was already coiling up, twisting tighter with every second.

“you okay?” his voice was softer this time, the restraint obvious in how still he stayed once he’d finally bottomed out. his forehead pressed lightly to yours, lips hovering just close enough to brush your skin.

“mhm,” you nodded quickly, legs shaking around him.

“words, baby,” he said, and his fingers tilted your chin so you’d look at him.

“i’m okay, jaem. just…just move, please,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"since you asked so nicely," he said with a grin that was all teeth and trouble. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher against his sides. his hips pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag out slowly, before he pushed back in.

the breath punched out of you. you didn’t even have time to recover before he was doing it again, sharper, like he was testing just how much you could handle.

"god, you’re taking me so well, princess," he groaned, eyes flicking down to where your bodies connected like he was mesmerized. his hands slid up your sides, the warmth of his touch a sharp contrast to the way he was slamming into you. "like you were made for me."

“jaem-” his name was the only thing you could manage, high-pitched and broken. your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, but that only made everything feel sharper.

“what's that?” he asked, voice rough as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. "love it this much, huh?"

you didn’t answer, didn’t need to. he could hear it in every shaky breath, feel it in the way your body reacted to him.

his mouth was on yours a second later, messy and hot, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before his tongue slid past it. he didn’t kiss you so much as claim you, taking everything you gave and then some. your fingers knotted in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. the sounds between you were wet, frantic, each one making the coil in your stomach twist tighter.

you were close… so, so close.

but then he pulled away again, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. before you could even think to complain, he grabbed your hips, flipping you over like it was nothing. your cheek pressed into the pillow, hips lifted, and you barely had a second to brace yourself before he was back inside you.

the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. it was deeper now, sharper, because he’d found a whole new spot to ruin you from. your fingers dug into the pillow, muffling the sounds spilling from your mouth, but even that wasn’t enough. the angle had you seeing stars, the kind of pressure that made your legs shake with every thrust.

“feel that?” his voice was right at your ear, low and rough. “feels different, doesn’t it?”

you nodded frantically, too gone to answer, but that wasn’t good enough for him. his hand slipped up, tangling in your hair, gently tugging you up just enough so he could hear you.

“talk to me, baby.” his voice was a rasp now, barely hanging on. "tell me how it feels."

“s’good…so good, jaem,” you gasped, words rushed and jumbled but still clear enough. "i’m- i’m gonna…”

“go ahead, baby," he said, lips brushing against your ear before he bit down softly on your earlobe, making you jolt. "want you to cum for me."

your whole body shuddered as the release crashed into you, slow and unrelenting, like a wave that just wouldn’t let up. it didn’t hit and fade away like usual — it lingered, making your muscles seize and tremble with every pulse. you felt boneless, your limbs heavy as you sagged against the bed, head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow. jaemin stayed inside you, his grip on your hips loosening just slightly but his eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intent. you could feel him watching every little twitch of your body.

“look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “so pretty like this.”

he eased out of you slowly, and the emptiness that followed had you sucking in a sharp breath. your thighs shook as you tried to press them together, but his were still on you, thumb brushing softly along your inner thighs admiring how your cum slid down your dripping core.

you glanced down, lips parting at the sight. his cock was flushed, standing firm against his stomach, the condom showing nothing but a hint of precum mixed with the mess you’d left behind. a slow heat pooled in your belly again, your body already responding before your mind could catch up.

“you didn’t—” you started, but the words dissolved in your throat, eyes flickering back up to meet his.

you didn’t wait for him to say anything. your hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist, and you tugged him forward. he followed easily, letting you pull him in close, his lips already parting like he was expecting a kiss. but just as he leaned in, you braced a hand on his chest and shoved him down flat on his back.

“oh?” he breathed out a soft, surprised laugh, his eyes widening as his head hit the pillow. “what’s this, huh?”

“shh,” you muttered, climbing over him, one leg swinging over his hips until you were straddling him. your palms flattened on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your hands.

“bossy now, are we?” his grin stretched wider, his hands sliding up your thighs with a slow, deliberate touch. he squeezed just above your knees, fingertips pressing into your skin.

“quiet,” you said leaning forward, your breath warm against his ear. “thought you’d like a girl who takes charge.”

his head tipped back with a breathy laugh. “oh, i do,” he said, voice trailing off into a low hum as his eyes dipped to where your hips hovered just above him. “but i like it even more when she can keep up.”

the corner of your mouth tugged up into a grin. “we’ll see,” you muttered, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around him. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body going rigid beneath you. even with just the faintest pressure of your hand, you could feel him twitch, his hips bucking up slightly.

“s-sensitive,” he hissed, jaw tightening as he pressed his head back into the pillow. but he didn’t stop you, didn’t even try. if anything, his fingers dug harder into your thighs, holding you steady like he was afraid you’d pull away.

“thought you could keep up,” you shot back, glancing up at him. his brows furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before they flickered back open. the teasing look on his face was gone now, replaced with something hungrier, more focused.

you lined him up with you, heart thudding hard against your ribs. you’d done this before, but it felt different now… the weight of his eyes on you, the way his hands gripped you just a little tighter as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch was slow, inch by inch until you felt him fill you completely.

“f-f—” his curse broke off into a low groan, his chest rising sharply as his hands slid up to your waist. “god, you’re—” he didn’t finish. couldn’t finish. his eyes screwed shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.

you braced your hands on his chest, fingers curling just slightly as you adjusted to the feeling. the heat in your core burned brighter, the ache of it twisting into something sharper, more desperate. you shifted your hips just a little, testing it, and the friction hit you so perfectly you gasped, nails digging into his chest.

“you okay?” his voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, but there was a thread of concern woven through it. his eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded but focused on you.

“mhm,” you nodded, breathless as you lifted your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him slide out before sinking back down just as slow. his head tipped back, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, a low groan rattling from his chest.

“yeah, just like that,” he muttered, his grip on you loosening as he let you set the pace. “take your time, pretty girl.” his words slurred just a little, as if he wasn’t fully in control of them anymore. “feels so…” his breath hitched, head tilting back against the pillow.

his hands never stopped moving, though. they roamed up your waist, across your ribs until they found your boobs, they played there for a minute before sliding down to grip your thighs again. every time you dropped your hips, you watched the way his face twisted — brows pulling together, lips parting, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. his fingers twitched, his grip faltering like he wanted to touch you everywhere at once.

“harder,” he breathed, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. his eyes flicked up to yours, gaze locked, lips parted and shiny with spit. “don’t hold back.”

you bit your lip, grinning through the burn in your legs as you shifted your pace and started going faster. the sound of it echoed in the room and you felt the warmth building low in your belly again, tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips.

“y-yeah, just like that,” he gasped, voice cracking, his eyes fluttering shut again. he pressed his head back, the veins on his neck on full display, and you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every uneven breath. his hands slid to your hips, guiding you in sync with his shallow thrusts upward. the movement was messy, desperate, his body seeking more even as he tried to hold on.

“gonna—” he bit out, breath hitching sharply. his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused as he stared at you like he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say. “gonna— oh, fuck—”

“yeah?” you gasped, leaning forward, your hands braced against his chest, fingers curling into his skin. “feels good, hm?”

he didn’t answer with words. he answered with his body, hips snapping up to meet yours, his fingers dragging down your back, hard enough to leave little streaks of heat in their wake. his breathing grew choppy, his body locking up beneath you as his grip on your waist turned bruising.

“don’t stop,” he panted, his voice rough, broken. “don’t— oh, fuck.”

you didn’t. not until you felt every last bit of him give in. his whole body went taut, muscles straining beneath you, his grip locking you in place as he let himself go. he groaned so deeply it sounded more like a growl, his breath hot against your neck as he pulled you down to him, holding you close.

“what’s the verdict, doctor?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest, still sat on top of him.

“hm,” he hummed with his eyes still closed, lips tugging up at the corners as if he was fighting off a grin. “patient shows signs of extreme confidence. possible cause: being too good at driving me crazy.”

you snorted, tilting your head to look at him. “is that your professional diagnosis?”

“oh, absolutely,” he said, cracking one eye open to meet yours. “might need to run some more tests, though. you know, for accuracy.”

“yeah?” you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “what kind of tests, doctor?”

his hands slid up your back, fingers splayed wide as they pressed you closer. “thorough ones,” he muttered, his voice rasping against your ear. “real hands-on approach.”

“sounds serious,” you teased, letting your nails drag lightly down his chest. “hope your credentials check out.”

“i’m overqualified, baby,” he breathed, tipping his head back against the pillow with a lazy grin. “let me show you.”

my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic!! thank you<3

#nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dream fic #nct jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x you #jaemin x reader #jaemin moodboard #jaemin imagine #jaemin fic #jaemin smut #jaemin fanfic #jaemin #nct dream smut #nct fanfic #nct #nct dream x you

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maythevoidnotscreamback · 1 day ago

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For this Alex Hirsch to try to slap human morals or emotions onto what is essentially nature itself personified is weird to me, ngl.

Like, the Unicorn didn't ask to be, essentially, drugged and grabbed from her 'bed' by Mommy Fortuna when they happened upon her and while Schmendrick did help release her, he didn't have to follow after her. He chose to do that of his own volition for his own reasons under the guise of 'leading the way'. Something we all found out was a lie, unintentional or not, when Molly reveals they've apparently been going the wrong way the whole time. As it is, the Unicorn, when he got himself in trouble, did not have to rescue him from his plight; not even as repayment for releasing her.

Why would I say that?

Because 1) she's not human and thus not beholden to our laws or rules or sensibilities of reciprocation or what-ever-else and 2) she is, as said previously, nature personified. You can make offerings, you can make sacrifices, you can beg and pray and plead but nature will not care for what humans want it to do or why. The harvests could still fail, the animals could still get sick, the ships might still not return or the fish not plentiful, the seasonal dangers could still kill you. It doesn't matter. It will do as it will. Because while we humans need nature in any and all its forms to thrive, nature doesn't need us at all. It'll still be here long after we might all be gone.

As it is, did Schmendrick even give her thanks for that? It's been a while since I last saw it, mind, but I think I remember him blustering about how 'he had it handled' even though he clearly didn't. And while, yes, Molly was emotional at finally getting to see a Unicorn, the Unicorn herself is confused but willing to offer what comfort she can to someone in distress. Molly even goes so far as to 'forgive her' when she most likely doesn't care for or even need forgiveness because, in all reality, what the Unicorn represents is what humans have made of it. Not what it actually is.

And then there's Prince Lir. Looking back to my childhood thoughts after watching this movie, I remember I felt bad that he and Amalthea didn't stay together, but looking at those same memories as an adult? There's a bit of an unsettling... vibe to it. He actually complains to Molly that he felt guilty for killing a dragon that I'm pretty sure, I could be horribly wrong since I haven't seen it for a while as said before, he didn't have to kill. It wasn't threatening anyone, wasn't 'holding a hostage' for him to rescue, it even looked to be living in a remote place. He did it because he wanted to. To show off. But he complains because Amalthea didn't care he did it. That she wasn't fawning over him as he was expecting (mind, it could be because he was raised to expect that) because he killed a dragon. That she wasn't interested in him just 'cause he was a Prince, adopted or not.

All that aside, I loved the movie then and I still love it now. The songs felt perfect to me, the artwork was gorgeous, the characters were memorable and the climax was amazing.

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

#reblog #the last unicorn #reblog to spread the word #my opinion given form

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sweetdispatch · 2 days ago

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The card - Q. Hughes

6 days of kinkmas

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn and his girlfriend got into argument which led him to teach her manners

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), safeword, dom!quinn, oral (f and m receiving), dacryphilia, slapping, orgasm denial

words: 1.8k

note: final day of kinkmas is here! but i have a surprise for 24th👀

---

Quinn, as a captain, was organising a Christmas party for his team. He needed your help but you were giving him a cold shoulder. A day earlier you two got into an argument and you didn’t want to forget this without apologies from him. You felt offended by his words and how low he thinks about you. As much as you wanted to help him, you didn’t want to give him satisfaction.

“All I’m saying is that it would be nice if you would tell me about this party at least a week earlier. Not day before” You sighed, trying to explain to him why you were mad.

“You don’t do anything so what’s the issue that I told you this now?”

“What is this supposed to mean?” His comment made you furrow yours eyebrows.

“You’re sitting at home the whole day doing nothing. It shouldn’t make a difference that I told you now” He shrugged and you looked at him, shocked at the words he just said to you. You left the living room and went to the bedroom.

This was yesterday and the two of you haven’t spoken since then. You had nothing to tell him because Quinn is the wrong one. If he thinks that you’re doing nothing, that’s exactly what you decided to do. You saw that he was struggling with preparing meals and cleaning at the same time but you were too stubborn to help him.

“Could you help me with the cake? You're a much better baker than I am” He asked you politely when he saw you getting water from the fridge, but you hadn’t responded. You went back to the bathroom to do your makeup and acted like you hadn't heard anything.

Quinn was furious at you. He couldn’t understand why you’re acting this way. In his mind, he hadn’t said anything wrong and you were the one who’s making a big deal of your conversation. He decided to let it slip for now, but after the party, he knew he’ll teach you manners.

The party was going smoothly. You two acted like a loving couple around his teammates while you hadn’t sorted out the argument. You were chatting with other girlfriends when Quinn was standing with the boys near the kitchen island. One of the girls went to grab a drink and interrupted his conversation.

“You’re a dick Quinn” She said and the boys looked at her. “You’re a dick for telling Y/N that she’s not doing anything in the house”

“Excuse me?” Quinn was taken aback by her words.

“She told us about your argument. How could you say this to her when she’s making everything so you could have a better life” She answered him and left. She sat on the couch and Quinn felt humiliated.

The boys were chirping at him about this situation and he got even more mad at you. He started thinking about his plan to punish you for what just happened. You were completely unaware of the fact that one of the girls confronted Quinn and enjoyed the party. He could see you laughing from afar but he knew that you won’t be laughing when the two of you will be home alone.

The party ended around midnight. When you closed the door after the last guests left, you sighed. All you wanted was to take off your makeup and get changed into something more comfortable. You started going to the bathroom when you heard Quinn.

“Living room. Now” His voice didn’t leave a space for argument. You followed into the room and saw his furious face expression. “You think it’s funny to tell everyone about our conversation? You think this was nice when one of the girls came and called me a dick in front of others?”

You were shocked. Yes, you told other girls about your argument but you never thought that they would direct this to him. You didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, waiting for his next move.

“I’m using the card today” You froze hearing it. You completely forgot that a couple months ago you gave him a “card” that meant that he can use you however he wants and do whatever he wants. “You’re under my control and have nothing to say unless it’s a safeword, which is…?” He asked you to be sure you remember.

“Sunflower”

“Good, now I want you naked in the bedroom. Hands on your sides and no touching”

You were turned on by the idea because sex with Quinn was always insane and you were curious what he’s gonna do to you. You took off your dress and threw it on the ground. You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come into the room. You trusted Quinn with your life and you knew that he would never hurt you but something in his voice made you nervous. You’ve been so caught up with your thoughts that you haven’t heard when he entered the room. He was standing only in his underwear. His voice brought you back from your trance.

“Knees” You listened to him and positioned yourself in front of him. He was caressing your hair and tucked them behind your ear. “We could have a nice night but you had to run with your mouth. I think we need to put it into better use now. You already said too much”

In a quick move, Quinn took off his underwear and you saw his hard dick. By instinct, you grabbed his dick and started playing with his length. He wasn’t happy with this and pulled your hair roughly so you could face him.

“I said mouth. Don’t you dare to disobey me because it will end up even worse for you” You nodded and opened your mouth letting him put his dick inside.

Quinn’s moves were rough. He was pushing his cock into your mouth without any mercy. You were gagging around him but this didn’t stop him. It turned him even more. You could feel the tip of his dick hitting your throat. Tears were spilling from your eyes and he laughed at the sight. Before he could cum in your mouth, he took out his dick.

“Lay in the bed. Legs wide open” You do what he told you to. He kneeled in front of your pussy and started eating you out. “So wet and I’ve barely done anything” He chuckled and returned to licking your clit.

Quinn pulled his fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly. You felt incredible with his tongue on your clit. He could feel that you’re close to your orgasm but he stopped. You looked at him but he didn’t say anything. Only grabbed your hips and threw your body around. You were lying on your stomach when you heard.

“Ass up, face down” You positioned yourself and waited when you felt the first slap on your ass. You screamed by surprise not expecting this. “Next time you’ll want to act like a brat, remember how it feels”

Quinn spanked you four more times. The pain became a pleasure for you and when the last spank laid, you moaned. He looked at your red ass for a couple seconds. He did this on purpose so you don’t know what he’s gonna do next. The next thing you felt was his dick deep buried inside of you.

You were a mess under him. It felt so good when Quinn was fucking you roughly. You grabbed the sheet trying to find balance but with each thrust you were falling apart. It didn’t take him long enough to bring you close to your release. When he felt your muscles tightening around him, he pulled out. It was the second time when he didn’t let you cum.

“You’re not gonna cum until I say so” He stated and laid another spank on you.

“Please Quinn, I need it” You begged him.

“Please Quinn, I need it” He mocked you. “You, my sweet girl don’t have anything to say”

He thrusted into you again, this time you moaned loudly. He was keeping a hard pace and you went with your hand to touch yourself. Before you could do it, Quinn grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on your back. He did the same with your other hand. Now, you were totally at his mercy. Quinn was keeping your hands behind your back, still fucking into you. You were moaning and begging him to let you cum but he didn’t let you. Again, he pulled out of you and you cried.

“I am gonna decide when you gonna cum, not you” He said not bothered by your tears.

Quinn threw you again and you were again on your back. He towered over you and thrusted into you again. You moaned but now, he shut you up with a kiss. It was the first time you tasted his lips today. His hand went to circulate your pussy and you started feeling overwhelmed. Other hand, I went to play with your boobs. This was all too much for you. All the touches, teasing and three denial orgasms. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sunflower” You said repeatedly, each time quieter from another.

Quinn took his dick out of you and panicked. He knew that he fucked up because you never used it before. He pulled you into a hug and started caressing your back.

“Shh, you did so well. You’re safe” He was whispering into your ear and you started crying into his shoulder. It was breaking his heart knowing that he’s the reason you’re crying. “I’m so sorry baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel better”

“Just hold me please” Your voice was breaking at each word. Quinn hugged you tighter and let you calm down. After a couple of minutes, you spoke again. “Can we take a bath and forget about it?”

“Yes and no” You looked at him. His thumb wiped your tears. “We can take a bath but we have to talk about what happened. I need to know what exactly happened to push you to say this word. And don’t you even think that’s embarrassing. That’s why we have the word. To use it when it’s too much” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

Quinn raised you and went into a bathroom to prepare your bath so you could relax. He stayed by your side all the time, reassuming you that everything’s fine and you’re safe. You appreciated it that he didn’t leave you alone to deal with this but wanted to help you. When you were ready to leave, again he raised you and gently dressed you up in his shirt and laid you on bed.

“We don’t have to talk about this now but tomorrow okay?” You nodded and Quinn pecked your lips. “Goodnight babe, I love you and I’m sorry for today… and yesterday”

“Stop, we’ll talk about everything tomorrow, now let’s just sleep… I love you” You curled into his chest.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #nhl #nhl imgaine #nhl fanfiction #vancouver canucks #v' work

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luvyeni · 3 days ago

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🥀 … ( reaction ) it’s not over ! ୨୧ 一 스트레이키즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ trying to breakup with them but they don’t let you ヾ

yandere!스트레이키즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・yandere ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・THIS IS A DARK GENERE manipulation , mentions of murder, language wc ・ 1.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can i request yandere stray kids' reaction to you breaking up with them, at least trying to? if i can request something else as well, a general headcanon to the type of yanderes they each would be.

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 you asked for two things so i tried to combine them to , i hope you don’t mind !

﹙ 𐙚 : bangchan ﹚ .ᐟ

chan is a manipulative yandere; he knows how to flip a situation and make you seem like you’re in the wrong. “you want to leave?” he asks with disappointment leaking in his voice. “did i do something wrong?” he sounds hurt. “i just don’t think we’re gonna work out anymore , you’re too controlling.” he tries not to get mad, “controlling? is me wanting to protect you too controlling?” you cant answer him. “my friends don’t even want to hang out with me because you’re always there.” he complain. “i can’t even go out with out you.” chan is smart though, he knows how to gaslight you. “what happens when you go out? when you went clubbing and that guy tried to take advantage of you , your friends are just jealous , do they have boyfriend who want better for them? no.” he said. “I do this because I love you.” he said , you start to feel bad. “if you want to leave then i can’t stop you but just know everything i did for you.” by then you already feel like shit , how could you do this to him? you couldn’t leave him when he cared so much for you. “i-im sorry.” you held your head down in shame. “it’s my fault for listening to my friends.” you don’t even notice his menacing smile, cause he knew he had you once again.

“it okay , but you know i can’t just let this be.”

﹙ 𐙚 : lee know ﹚ .ᐟ

lee know is a unpredictable yandere; one minute he’s calm, the next minute he’s lashing out , throwing things and breaking them. “leave? sure you can go out for a few hours , be home by 9:30 — no leave for good.” he stops petting the cat , looking up at you. his gaze alone is enough to scare you into submission , but you stand your ground. “i want to leave for good.” he doesn’t say anything just stands up. “no.” he walks away. “no? you can’t stop me from leaving , let’s just end this before things get worse.” he’s calm and level headed , until you piss him off which is what this conversation was doing. “did you not hear what the fuck i said!” he shouted , slamming the plate down into the sink , shattering it. “minho I can’t do this!” you shouted back , but he grabs your shirt , pushing you against the wall. “you don’t get it do you? you aren’t leaving.” he says threateningly. “i will kill you before letting you go.” and you know he’s serious. “i-im sorry.”

“that’s better , now go feed the cats while i clean the mess you made up.”

﹙ 𐙚 : changbin ﹚ .ᐟ

you can’t leave him; you want to but he made it so you can’t. changbin will make it so you’re so dependent on him before you decide to end the relationship that you it’s too late when you want to call it quits. “where will you go?” he asks. “you don’t have a job, when’s the last time you paid a bill?” he’s so relaxed about the situation. “i can get one and i can pay my own bills.” you respond. “you’d forget to feed yourself if i didn’t cook for you, or buy you food don’t be stupid.” if that doesn’t work he’ll just scare you into staying; he won’t ever hit you… that being said he might not hit you but he will use physical strength to scare you ( think about that one video of him holding seungmin by his arms and wrist ). “please let me- listen here.” he squeezed the back of your neck. “ch-changbin please, do-don’t hurt me.”

“i wont hurt you , but you need to drop this shit and drop it now.”

﹙ 𐙚 : hyunjin ﹚ .ᐟ

hyune is confusing ; he doesn’t really see what he does is wrong; so what he doesn’t let you out? what’s the reason for you to go out there when he’s inside here. “i can’t do this anymore.” he’s just sitting there painting as usual , not really listening because you’re being ridiculous. “are you listening.” he turns to you. “are you done?” and you’re just in shock. “good , go sit down.” doesn’t truly believe you’d leave. “hyunjin i said im leaving, i can’t stand being in here anymore.” that’s when he drops his paintbrush. “i said go sit down.” when you walk towards the door is when he fully gets up. he’s not violent — unless he needs to be, so he will rough you up , grabbing you by your shirt , throwing you on the bed. “why can’t you just fucking listen?” he curses. “there’s nothing out there for you , you can’t get any better then here.” he says , throwing your bag of clothes in the closet. “if you get up again , throwing you to bed will be the least of your problems.”

“now sit there and be good, like i said the first time , i won’t tell you again.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jisung ﹚ .ᐟ

jisung is a unhinged manipulative yandere; and his entire life is revolves around you. you’re the reason he breathes every morning. so if you aren’t there, what’s the point? “jisung we have to end this, this isn’t safe for either of us.” you held a bag in your hand full of your stuff. “look at your arms and legs they’re all cut up.” he stared at you with tears in his eyes. “i did it to show you how much i love you, why don’t you understand i love you so much im willingly to kill myself for you.” you stopped him. “that’s the problem ji , you’re not well. he’ll cry — very loudly , cries likes he’s been stabbed because in his head he might as well have been. “no! you said you love me! if you leave me i’ll kill myself , i really will.” he goes immediately to the knife he’s hidden because you threw the rest out. “jisung where did you get that?” he doesn’t answer , just puts it to his throat.

“the moment you step out the door i’ll do it.”

﹙ 𐙚 : felix ﹚ .ᐟ

his obsession with you is too strong for him to let you go; even if his heart is telling him to, his brain is louder , he’s basically fighting himself and his brain is winning. “felix please let me go!” your legs were now tied to the bed , one arm connected to the bedpost as he tried to feed you. “im not hungry i want to leave!” you shouted , which made him flinch. “i-i can’t.” he says. “i know it’s wrong , you should be out there living life , but i just can’t.” he can’t let you leave him , he needs you. “I need you with me okay , i can’t breathe without you dove.” puts drugs in your food to keep you docile , he doesn’t want to hurt you , he’s probably the less dangerous one towards you at least. “im sorry please just drink some water.” you give in not thinking its drugged — until you involuntarily start to drift off. “fe-felix.” you can hear the sadness in his voice , he genuinely feel’s guilty. “im sorry, im so sorry.”

“i just love you so much i can’t let you go.”

﹙ 𐙚 : seungmin ﹚ .ᐟ

i have said this before; seungmin knows you’ll leave regardless if he forces you to stay or doesn’t ; not matter if he threatens you, hits you, whatever. so he lets you go, that’s fine go — but not without a cost , guess you finally decided you no longer wanted your friend alive… otherwise you wouldn't have made the stupid decision of leaving him. “what did you do?” you dropped your phone upon entering his house. he has lured you there calling you from your friends phone… the friend who was currently bleeding on the ground; beaten mercilessly. “why the fuck did you have a male friend anyway if not to be a whore , should’ve killed him months ago. literally doesn’t care if you’re crying. “don’t cry now , this is your fault.” he said. “told you , I won’t ever hurt you.” he said the knife bloody , pointed at you.

“but everyone else is free game , these are just flesh bags to me, they mean more to you than me.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jeongin ﹚ .ᐟ

jeongin is a yandere who likes to play games; you want to break up? go ahead and leave. when you do , he’ll actually leave you alone for a while , let you live your life, even let you get a new boyfriend. but that’s just cause he wants you to think he’s gone; give you that high; before the low. everything is so good — then suddenly you lose your job, so you have no income; then your boyfriend suddenly breaks up with you no warning. it’s like everything went to shit , and who is there to pick up all your broken pieces? well jeongin is there with open arms, ready for you to step right into them, but not without consequences. see that job you lost? jeongin called in a favor and got you fired. that boyfriend? well let’s just say jeongin sent a few photos of the both of you together and it was the end of that. “you see how i did all that.” he tells you after you sobbed in his arms after he told you what he did.

“i can make this much worse , don’t ever think of leaving me again.”

©️LUVYENI

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ellecdc · 10 hours ago

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Matched

Finnick Odair x fem!victor!reader who are constantly introduced to each other [1.2k words]

CW: people trying to introduce Finnick and reader, Capitol behaviours (body modification, eating-purging-eating, no sense of propriety), fluff, a surprise

You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.

There would be people dressed to varying levels of near insanity. There would be people literally eating until they were sick, then forcing themselves to be sick so that they could continue eating. There would be people approaching you, asking you questions, and running their hands over your clothes or hair or jewelry or body as though having seen the most traumatic moments of your life aired on TV from the safety of their homes made you friends.

And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.

“There you are, darling!” A rather reptilian looking woman you knew to go by Komoda greeted you as she approached; arm aggressively interlocked with another’s who didn’t appear to be all that willing to be there. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

You plastered on your show time smile and offered your hand to Capitol Darling Finnick Odair who accepted it readily, bowing his head slightly as he met your gaze.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“It always is in the Capitol.” You volleyed, smiling back over to the Capitol citizen who seemed very excited to be seeing two of her favourite victors intermingling. “Finnick and I have met a few times, actually.”

Komoda seemed rather bemused at the fact that the two of you had met and not immediately jumped each other's bones. “Oh… oh! Really?”

You hummed in the affirmative.

“Every year when we mentor new tributes.” Finnick explained.

Komoda tried to laugh. “Well, I just think that the two of you would get on rather well.”

“We get on fine.” You continued, feigning ignorance.

“The two of you would make a very handsome couple!” One of her friend’s chimed in, earning him nods of approval from the quickly forming group of spectators.

“Well, looks aren’t everything, are they?” You tried, and a few of the more…altered individuals seemed rather perplexed at the thought. “The two of us might not have anything in common.”

“That’s very true.” Finnick agreed. “Let’s see; how do you feel about the beach?”

“Too much sand; I’m shaking it out of everything I own for far too long afterwards. What’s your favourite pastime?”

“Swimming.” He answered.

“I never learned how.” You continued with pursed lips. “Least favourite season?”

“Winter. What’s your favourite holiday?”

“Christmas.”

Finnick hummed in displeasure before continuing. “Favourite animal?”

“Cats. Yours?”

“Dogs.”

You hummed in displeasure. “How do you feel about white chocolate?”

“Love it.” He replied easily; you scrunched your nose at him before he carried on. “What’s a dealbreaker for you?”

“People who like white chocolate.”

He pressed his lips into a flat line and nodded his head in understanding. “Very fair.”

You looked back over at Komoda and her friends to see them all gaping at the two of you.

“Sorry to disappoint, folks.” Finnick apologized with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s apparently just not meant to be.”

“But…” Komoda started, looking rather crestfallen. “I…I was so sure!”

“You’re not the first to try to set us up.” You placated, placing a gentle hand over the scale-like jewels on the shoulder of her gown. “You probably won’t be the last, either.”

“Maybe the 29th time will be the charm, hm?” Finnick offered you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t hold your breath, Odair.”

“I can hold my breath for a very long time, sweetheart; I’m a world class swimmer, afterall.”

“Oh, you’re something alright.” You laughed as you turned to walk away, deciding then to begin your rounds of goodbyes before heading back to your suite.

You held the towel to your face for a few seconds, just taking a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet, warmth, and serenity of your post-party ritual.

You were just about to pull the towel away when you felt gentle hands slide around your waist before you were being embraced between two strong arms.

“Long night?” He murmured into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it.

You hummed in agreement and pulled the towel away from your face, smiling at Finnick in the reflection of the mirror.

“It always is in the Capitol.” You replied.

He offered you a knowing smile before pressing another kiss to your shoulder.

“Missed you.” He said before reaching around you to grab some makeup wipes to begin removing the work his own stylists put into his appearance tonight. “Anything interesting happen?”

You hummed noncommittally as you smoothed cream over your skin. “Not really. Someone tried setting me up with this guy again.”

“Really?” Finnick asked, feigning intrigue. “Was it a match made in heaven?”

You made a so-so sound. “He was pretty cute,” you allowed, “but I don’t know if it would work.”

“No?”

“No. I mean, for one, he didn’t start drooling the second he saw me. Huge red flag I think.”

With that, Finnick theatrically slammed his hand down on the countertop and levelled you with a disbelieving look. “You mean to tell me that he didn’t immediately fall to his knees in worship?”

“No!”

Finnick shook his head; simply aghast. “You can do so much better, honey.”

Your smile turned soft as you watched him lather some of his face wash between his hands before bringing them to his face. “I think so too.”

By the time he was done with washing his face, you were sitting on the counter with Finnick standing between your legs as you massaged some moisturizer into his skin.

“They don’t know what you deserve anyway.” Finnick states suddenly.

Your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who doesn’t?”

“The Capitol people; they don’t know what kind of partner you deserve.”

You stayed quiet as you finished working the product into his skin, pressing a kiss to his lips to alert him to the fact that you were finished. You felt rather shy when he opened his eyes and you found yourself pinned beneath his sea green gaze.

“They’d be sorely mistaken if they thought Capitol Darling Finnick Odair was all you deserved.”

You smiled softly at him before pressing another softer, lingering kiss to his lips.

“I’m rather fond of this Finnick Odair.”

You relished in the slight pink dusting of his cheeks as his smile grew wider before he pulled you in, cradling you to his chest.

You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.

It would take your stylists three hours to prep you for the party. It would take you forty minutes to disassemble yourself after the party. The outfits and jewelry you wore would cost more than most District families saw in years.

And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.

The best part was that no one knew you and Finnick Odair have actually been dating behind closed doors for four years now.

#the hunger games #thg fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #thg #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair blurb #finnick odair ficlet #finnick odair drabble #finnick odair imagine #ellecdc fics

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hwaslayer · 1 day ago

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wildfire (cs) | nine.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 9.7k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, phone sex / mutual masturbation, lots of kissing and making out per usual lol, these two are off to another conference but together-together, alcohol consumption and intoxication, bar scene, dancing, fingering on the balcony, finger sucking, oral (f. receiving), a sprinkle of spitting, a sprinkle of nipple play, a lazy handjob lol, unprotected sex from behind oop, some dirty talk, some hair pulling, multiple orgasms, reverse cowgorrrrl, implied shower sex, lots of talk and speculation, hohoho the end 🤭

Your friends weren't really surprised when you said you'd be leaving for another conference. They did wonder why it was last minute, but you don't think they dwelled on it much. Not like Jiung, at least. Outside of Jiung, maybe Yunho, too. But luckily, Yunho didn't make it a big deal since you weren't scheduled to TA his class this week [hands-on lab week with his postdoc]. He reassured you by saying it was a good conference to attend, though. That he wasn't giving a talk this year, but he was still thinking about popping in for a second.

You hope not.

You'd be with San and you'd finally get to be away with him, alone. You hoped no one else would be around and try to disrupt that [selfishly]. San had just traveled overseas for another lecture post-NAS conference, leaving you behind to sulk away while you missed his company.

—FLASHBACK

San settles into his empty hotel suite after a long day of being in attendance for a board meeting and conference. He loosens his tie and unclips his cuffs, letting out a hefty sigh when he turns on the shower. He musters the last of his strength to shed off his clothes and step under the piping hot water. He's still feeling a little groggy and gross from being in a timezone that's 5 hours behind from home. Over the years, he's slowly gotten used to traveling this way; flying to the other side of the world for 1-2 days before heading back. It used to wear on his body a ton until he's gotten better about taking care of it and his health. Still, even after these years, it doesn't get any easier.

Especially now that San has you— he just always feels like he's missing something. All he wants is to be with you, occupy his time with you.

When San steps out of the shower and finishes getting ready for bed, he slips under the sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs. He rests against the headboard, flipping through channels while he waits for you to text him back. He flips through some of your photos, some of the nudes you sent that he tucked away in his hidden folder. He feels himself getting worked up, missing you even more; missing your touch, your kisses, the way you feel. You promise you'd stay up and wait for him even though San begged you to sleep, so he wouldn't be surprised if you had fallen asleep.

You couldn't though, not without talking to him.

you: sorry sannie, was cleaning up a bit. can i call you now? 🥺

san: yeah of course baby, as long as you aren't tired.

It's not less than 20 seconds that you end up calling him after that text, settling into your sheets to try and get comfortable.

"Hey sweetheart."

"Hi." You smile to yourself hearing San's voice, though he sounds tired and worn out. "You okay? You sound really tired." He chuckles.

"Ah, do I? I kinda am though. Mentally exhausted from the meeting and conference today."

"I'm sorry, Sannie. You should rest."

"I am, love." He sinks a bit further into the sheets. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"What have you been up to today?"

"I caught up on some assignments and worked on a few things with Belle. How was the board meeting and conference?"

"Cool, but exhausting."

"I bet. Have you gone around the city?"

"A bit, but I don't really plan to do most of it until the second to last day here." You hum on the other line. "Wish you were here with me, baby." His voice is low, husky. Enough for you to bite your lip and sink into your own covers to try and distract yourself from the butterflies in your tummy.

"I wish I was, too. I'm sure it's beautiful there."

"Mmyeah." He feels himself getting incredibly worked up at this point, missing you terribly and wishing he had you all to himself here. Imaging the things he could do with you, to you, is enough to turn him on.

Replaying past events and hearing those pretty little noises you make for him.

God, he wishes he could have you.

"You lying down?" He breaks the silence and asks.

"Mhm."

"Wish I could have you right now, sweetheart." You can hear it in his voice, the small pauses and breaths he takes in between. "All I want."

"I wish you could too, Sannie."

"Baby." He breathes out. "I'm so hard for you." He lets out a small groan just as you dip your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and panties.

"Can you come home already?" You whine.

"Soon, love." He whips his cock out and slowly strokes himself, releasing a shaky breath in the process just as he tilts his head back against the headboard— thumb spreading his pre-cum across his tip. "Fuck—Can you touch yourself for me?"

"Yes." You let out, rubbing at your clit in slow circular motions, digit dipping between your folds before gently slipping inside. A small whimper leaves your lips that shoots straight to San's cock, causing him to grip his member a little harder— stroke it a little quicker.

"Feels good, angel? How wet are you?"

"Mhm." You moan. "So wet, babe."

"Good girl. Keep doing that for me, yeah?" You fail to respond, too focused on finger-fucking yourself as you slip in two digits and work at a hungry pace. You too, think about San and how well he takes care of you; how well he fucks you and makes you cum over, and over again. "Wish I could fuck you so good right now." He moans a little louder this time and it has you reeling— hips subtly working with your hand as you come back up to your clit and spread your slickness around. "Hear you make those pretty noises for me and me only."

"Sannie." You breathily whine, rubbing at a faster pace.

"Mhm?" His voice is deep. "You want that, baby?" He lets another moan slip from his lips as he chases after his high, hand working quick on his length. "You like it when I handle you? Do you need that right now?"

"Yes, Sannie. Need it so badly."

"Mm." His hum is close to growl. "Shit." He hisses, breathing becoming irregular just as yours is. The more you listen to San on the other line while rubbing at your core, the more you feel yourself ready to snap. "I'm close. Can you let go for me, hm? When I get back—" He pauses briefly. "I'll make sure to take care of you. Fuck you so good— show you how much I missed you."

"Fuck— San." You cry. "Mm'coming—" You continue to moan and say his name as your orgasm washes over you, trembling at every touch as you milk it out and ride out your high. Hearing the way you unravel has San spiraling, causing him to release shortly afterwards— strings of white painting his stomach and abdomen as he moans deeply; the euphoria crashing down on him instantly. You lie there, eyes shut as the exhaustion kicks in, a small smile on your face when San huffs out a quick 'fuck.' "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just made a mess." You giggle.

"Too bad I'm not there."

"Don't say things like that or I'll get hard again." You snort, also getting up to clean up and snuggle back into the covers. "Can't wait to get home to you."

"I can't either, babe. Just take it easy, okay? You'll be home soon."

"Soon isn't enough."

—END

He was there for a week before he came back jet-lagged and super tired. He still managed to cater to you despite the things he needed to catch up on, but you honestly felt bad intruding in his space when you're sure he just needed time for himself. With that being said, you didn't see him as much over the following week— allowing him to get back on track before yet another trip and another conference.

You needed him to yourself, and that's all you were asking for.

And you got that; hopefully, with no issues, repercussions or interruptions to come.

"Baby." You turn from the window to face San, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze.

"Hm?" You hum, pulling yourself out of your daze while watching the ocean pass you by.

"You okay?" He smiles a bit, driving with one hand down to the grocery store.

"Mmyeah, sorry. Was just watching the water." He nods, licking his lips as he leans onto the middle console after stopping at a light.

"No worries. Can I just steal a quick kiss?" You giggle, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. You pull away for a second, only to kiss him again. And again.

And again.

Beep!

"Fucking relax." San says, looking through the rear view mirror. He hits the gas, smirking when he hears you laughing in your seat.

"Woops."

"Gonna get me in trouble."

"Pay attention, Professor Choi." You tease, lacing your hand with his. His hand is soft, his hand is warm. You give it a soft squeeze, thumb caressing the surface.

"Can't help it when my lady's in the front seat." He smiles. "Anyway, got a good list of groceries in mind already?"

"Just a couple of things." He nods.

"What do you wanna do tonight? Take a walk near the beach? Party? Explore?"

"Party?" You snort. "You party?"

"I'm really not that old, for your information." You laugh.

"You know, exploring sounds kinda fun."

"Yeah?" He kisses your knuckles just as he pulls into the parking lot of the plaza, finding a spot near the entrance of the grocery store. "Well, we can explore."

"Stumble into some bars, walk down the lively nightlife streets." He chuckles and slides his hand into yours when the both of you hop out the car and head into the store.

"That does sound fun." He squeezes your hand before grabbing a basket. "So, what did you have in mind?"

"Lots of good snacks." You giggle, leading him towards the snack aisle. "But, I was thinking we could make something for dinner together tomorrow night."

"Yeah, we should. What's on the menu?" You shrug, throwing your favorite chips into his basket, along with your favorite waffle cone snacks.

"Curry, maybe?"

"That sounds really good, baby. Let's do it." You smile up at San before tippy-toeing to give him a kiss on the lips. You continue to roam around the store, throwing in some ingredients into the basket with San, along with some soju. After the two of you have made an entire round around the store and are satisfied, San heads to the cashier to pay. You beg for him to let you cover half and he shakes his head, kissing you on the side of the head for the attempt. You catch his arm flex when he raises the basket onto the belt, causing you to shift your attention to the floor to try and distract yourself. San catches on though, and he chuckles while tapping his card to the reader. You shy behind him, hand loosely in his while he grabs the bags with his other.

In the car, you pull up a few potential spots to visit tonight. You find that most of the fancy restaurants and fun bars are along the same street, which is pretty close to the hotel and beach. You suggest walking down and around, and San agrees— as long as you're comfortable. You look at him and nod, watching as he drives down to the hotel 15 minutes away; chewing at his gum with his hat strapped on backwards. San is in a casual white tee and black pants, while you've got on an oversized graphic tee and cargos. San booked a hotel that's on the opposite end from the venue, more than willing to do a 45 min drive around to get there just to avoid running into familiar faces and colleagues. It wasn't a huge conference, though. Not a lot of people he knew would be showing up. Still— didn't mean others weren't aware of who he was and he couldn't risk that. He just needed to be with you, in private; away from anything that could ruin it or make you uncomfortable.

When you get to the hotel, San checks in with a breeze before taking your hand and leading the way to the room. He's carrying both of your bags— a duffle slung on each of his shoulders. He taps the keycard on his phone against the reader, pulling the handle down to reveal the suite. You've seen pictures but pictures don't do justice to capture just how beautiful it is in person. It's a small suite, perfect for you two. There's a small living room, a kitchen next to it. There's beautiful barn doors separating the room. The room has a Queen's bed, beautiful white curtains that hide the balcony with the ocean view. The bathroom has a his and hers sink, a stand-in shower just like the one San has at home and a tub next to it. San sets your bags down to the side of the room while you set the ingredients and soju in the fridge, snacks laid out on the counter. San lets out a small sigh as he comes to you, tossing his hat onto the counter before wrapping his arms around you from behind and placing a kiss against your head.

"So, baby." He says lowly from behind, giving you the opportunity to relax in his hold. "Wanna get ready and head back out?"

"You sure you aren't tired?" He smiles when you turn to face him and wrap your arms around his neck.

"No. We can do whatever you want." His hands squeeze at your sides. You tippy-toe to peck him on the lips, hands gently tugging on the ends of his hair sitting on the nape of his neck. He kisses you back for awhile, deepening the kiss just enough to have you to two indulging in each other against the kitchen counter. He lets out a soft, content sigh in between, hand coming up your shirt.

"Maybe we should—" Kiss. "Get ready." Kiss.

"We should. But, it's not fair now that you've got me all worked up." He whines a bit, causing you to giggle.

"I'm sorry, Sannie." You kiss him one last time. "We can take care of it later, hm?" You smile, pulling out of his grip to head into the bedroom. He watches you walk off, hips swaying as you make your way to your bag before strutting into the bathroom. He does a little head tilt, still in disbelief at how he's got you right here— with him.

He feels lucky. Genuinely happy.

At some point, you and San are both getting ready in the bathroom— you've dressed yourself in a mini cami dress while San has his all white attire on. You're brushing the mascara wand through your lashes, dabbing some blush to your cheeks, swiping the lip gloss across your lips. San is ruffling his hair next to you, trying to style it to his wants until he's satisfied. You look over and peep the silver dog tag necklace hanging from his neck, tan chest exposed through the deep-cut shirt he's wearing.

"What?" He smiles, slightly confused at the way you're staring at him.

"Just looking at your necklace."

"You sure that's it?"

"I mean I could say other things, but I won't start right now." He laughs.

"Chris gave it to me for my birthday."

"It's nice. Looks good on you."

"You think so?" You nod, setting your makeup bag aside. "Doesn't look nearly as good as this dress does on you." He comes behind you, hand gripping your ass.

"Choi San."

"What?" He chuckles. "I mean it." He presses a kiss to your temple. "Ready to go, pretty?" You nod, turning to face him.

"I am."

"Can I have a kiss before we go?"

"My lip gloss." He shrugs.

"I don't care." He gently grips your jaw and tugs you closer. "C'mere." You kiss him, smiling as you pull away and tug on his shirt.

"Let's go." You gently wipe off the excess gloss from the edge of his lips, being the first to pull away and grab your things.

"Yesma'am." San bites onto his lip, following after you.

And it ultimately leads to one of the best nights you've ever experienced.

San pulls up to a Peruvian restaurant, taking your hand and carefully navigating through the groups of people waiting for a table. He puts his name on the waitlist, telling you it'll be about a 25 minute wait. You respond with a 'no biggie,' leading him up the street to look at the gift shops while waiting. You and San poke around at the shirts, sweaters, magnets and other souvenirs, playfully trying on fun, festive hats and headbands before purchasing a few items for your mom and friends. You move onto the next store, in hopes of killing the last 10 minutes of the wait in there. It's a cute and quaint jewelry shop, one owned by a sweet middle-aged lady who sits on a high stool behind the counter. She greets you and San, her eyes twinkling when she sees you both stroll in happily into her store. You slowly browse along the glass containers, your eyes instantly fall onto a dainty, silver layered butterfly necklace sitting in the far corner.

"I was hoping you'd look at that one." She says. "I think it'd be perfect on you."

"Wouldn't it be?" San comes from behind. "Is it okay if we take a closer look at it?" She nods, pulling it out of the glass case and onto the surface.

"It's so pretty."

"There's only one other shop that sells this necklace. It's simple, but I think it brings out some joy in people. Butterflies are meaningful." She adds.

"They are. My grandma loved butterflies. We'd always take her to the butterfly garden near her home for her birthday."

"It really would be perfect on you." San whispers as he dips closer to the side of your face. He sees the way your eyes light up, causing his heart to soar. He immediately turns to the lady and flashes his dimpled smile, his arm around your waist. "Do you think I can take it off of your hands?"

"Certainly—"

"San." You pout. "You don't have to—"

"I do." Is all he says, sliding his card over to the sweet lady just as she gently takes it off of its display and lays it down. It's not expensive, but not inexpensive; yet, San doesn't care much for it because all that mattered to him was the way your eyes glowed and the way your smile filled the room.

"I'm assuming you'd like to wear it out?" San nods.

"Yeah, she will." She hands him his receipt to sign off on before handing him his card.

"Enjoy." You smile at her as San slips his card back into his wallet and carefully pries the necklace out of the container. When you get to the front of the store, San stops you to help you get the necklace on.

"Baby, let me put this on."

"Thank you, Sannie." Your eyes sparkle at the necklace in his hand, his smile growing by the minute as he comes behind you to slip it on.

"It's perfect." He gently caresses your chin before he's distracted by his phone buzzing. "Also, perfect timing?" He flashes his phone towards you. "Our table's ready." You simply smile up at him, letting him lead you back down to the restaurant. Once he's checked back in, the host brings you to a table in the dim, far corner of the restaurant— away from the entrance, away from the high traffic. It's a small booth, cozy and intimate enough for you and San.

You begin skimming through the menu, chiming in about certain plates you wanna try. You and San decide on a few main courses to share, along with dessert. He's quick to call the waitress over to place the order, also putting in an order of cocktails for you two to indulge in while waiting. San talks to you about future plans and how things have been going on his end [grants, his progress with Jongho on that new building]. He's trying his best to not talk about school and work but there are things he just feels the need to tell you, knowing you'd support him and cheer him on when he needs it the most. But, at some point, the conversation gets interrupted when a call from Jiung comes flashing through your screen.

"Do you wanna get that, sweetheart?" You shake your head and let the call go to voicemail.

"It's okay. I'll tell him I'll call him back later or something."

"You sure?"

"Positive, San." You give him a reassuring smile. "I can always catch up with him." He nods. "You were saying? About Jongho and Namjoon?"

"Right, yeah." He chuckles a bit. "Namjoon's been talking to the dean and he seems to be onboard with giving us some real estate in the new building to start a program. I think they're still discussing, but it sounds like as long as we do yearly symposiums and update him on the progress of how things are going, it should be good."

"That sounds amazing! I mean, I always knew you and Jongho would be able to push it forward." He does a slight head tilt.

"Well, baby. I don't know if it's us or Namjoon." You laugh.

"Namjoon wouldn't be able to make a valid case if you two weren't doing great work."

"True. I think it'll be able to help bridge a lot of future collaborations, especially in different departments. Like Zara's, Applied Physics." You quietly sip on your cocktail and nod, taking a big gulp to [hopefully] swallow down the question you want to ask, the question you're so curious about. San catches on quick, though. He sips on his cocktail and furrows his brows slightly, trying his best to read you from his seat. "What're you thinking about?"

"Huh? Nothing."

"Angel." He laughs a bit. "I told you you could ask me anything, remember?" You sigh and give him a look before caving.

"So, have your friends been trying to hook you up with her?"

"Zara?" You nod. "Yeah. I'm not gonna lie."

"Hm." You hum.

"But, we're just colleagues, love. Nothing else."

"They think you two make a good pair."

"I don't. We're good as colleagues, and quite frankly, I never really saw her in any other way since the beginning." Silence. "What's on your mind, hm?"

"I just tend to overthink, that's all. She's a professor, too. She's the same age as you, on the same kind of path. Has life figured out and is pretty set. Pretty. What if you realize we aren't a good pair and you two actually are?" He shakes his head.

"Babe— baby. I'm gonna have to stop you right there, okay? That's not gonna happen or else I wouldn't have pursued this if I knew I wasn't set on this. If I had any doubts about us or what was going on between us, I wouldn't have continued. I'm not like that. I would never do that to you." He looks at you and you can't help but give him a tiny, toothless smile; feeling reassured from the way he looks at you alone.

Like you've hung up the stars in the sky.

"I trust you." Is all you manage to say.

"Good." He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles. "I don't want you to worry. Let's enjoy ourselves tonight." You nod.

As dinner progresses, you and San talk endlessly about life, family and stories from the past. You talk about what your friends have been up to, what your mom has been texting you about, new shows and books you've been trying to get into and San always listens so intently. Dinner lasts for about 2.5 hours before you're two cocktails deep and heading out of the restaurant to the bar just further down the street. This time, you lead for the rest of the night. You take San's hand and follow the loud music, the crowd. You fall into the bar, already bouncing to the beat with San close behind you. You order a few shots from the bartender, San giving you a look as he whispers in your ear about how good you look glowing under the dim light, how good you look happy. San takes the shots with you, ending up on the dance floor with you. Everyone else around you seems too intoxicated to care about their surroundings; too intoxicated, too happy enjoying the moment. And surprisingly, San is, too. He holds you close as the song blasts through the bar, gripping your hips as you work your ass against him. He keeps up with your rhythm well as he dances along, playfully turning you to face him so he could praise you in your ear while he squeezes at your ass.

You're not sure this man lacks in anything, and it's crazy to call him yours.

But, he is.

He is, he is.

You and San spend a good hour at the bar before you walk over to the beach and stumble your way back into the hotel from the back entrance. The both of you are still in good spirits despite the exhaustion slowly creeping up, laughing and joking with each other until you've finally made it back inside the room.

"That was fun." He smiles, pulling you flush against him before cupping your cheeks and kissing you on the lips. "Thank you, baby." He thanks you because he's not sure he's felt this alive in a long, long time. Even though he had his good moments with Iseul, he can say their relationship was never that spontaneous. They kept within routine a lot, did the usual things with their friends a lot. Iseul wouldn't dare take him down the street into a random bar to take shots and dance the night away while out of town.

Everything about you was so good, so different, so good to be true. But, you were all his and he was all yours.

He wishes he could stay here with you, in this moment. With no worries about school, work, the outside world. People.

"No, thank you." You smile sweetly at him, but he can't admire it for long when his phone buzzes in his pocket despite it being on do not disturb.

jongho: can i call you real quick? sorry, kinda urgent but i won't take up much of your time.

san: yeah, sure.

"I'm sorry baby, I have to take this." He flashes the screen, showing Jongho's name come up. "Real quick."

"No worries." You chuckle. "I'll clean up around here." He nods, walking off.

"Yo." San picks up the call while he decides to stand outside on the balcony.

"Aye. Where have you been? I sent you some emails but it's been crickets." Jongho asks.

"My bad. I told you I was going to the Baskin Conference."

"Oh, you actually went? I thought you were still thinking about it."

"No. What's up?"

"Are you alone?"

"Why?"

"Okay." Jongho chuckles. "Anyway, I was just wondering where you were at since I haven't seen you and heard from you. I received a 'just in time' email for the new proposal we worked on. Might be good to start getting our approvals together for it so we can get the grant awarded ASAP." San nods, relaxing when he feels you wrap your arms around him from behind. He turns to face you, one arm coming around you while you look up at him; other hand still occupied with holding the phone to his ear. San watches you carefully as you lay random, soft kisses against his jaw and silently giggle— teasing him in the same manner that drives him crazy.

"That's great news, actually! Kinda been bombing out some of the grants I have right now and have yet to renew some of them." Jongho laughs loudly.

"Yeah, same."

"I'll prioritize it and get it done when I get back."

"Sounds good. I've already looped in the others in that email to get it started."

"Thanks."

"Enjoy yourself down there." Pause. "And San?"

"Yeah?"

"Please be careful with her."

"I'll talk to you when I get back." San hangs up the call and slips his phone into his pocket, smirking when he finally gets to hold you close. "And what do you think you're doing, hm?"

"Just wanted your attention." You pout.

"You always have my attention, angel. There's no doubt about that." You bite your lip and tippy-toe to kiss him, pressing yourself flush against his body while you deepen the kiss. You feel him hardening against you, causing you to moan into his mouth. He briefly pulls back, smiling down at you as his hand travels down and beneath your dress— fingers teasing at the edge of your panties. "Think you can keep quiet for me?" Your breathing hitches when his fingers dip beneath the material and start slowly rubbing at your clit. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time, watching the way you let out silent moans even as he finally slips two fingers inside of you.

"Babe—"

"Shh." He shushes you with a smile. "Don't worry about anyone." He says, expertly hiding your figure in front of his, keeping you at an angle behind the decorative pots and plants sitting on the balcony for aesthetics. "Just let me take care of you." He grazes his lips against yours, indulging in the way you quietly whine against him, indulging in the way your slickness covers his digits.

You're dripping.

He picks up the pace as he tries to quietly [and subtly] finger fuck you on the balcony, enjoying the way your head tilts back in pleasure, giving him access to the surface of your neck for small little kisses, love bites that aren't so obvious to the naked eye.

"So close— so good." You moan softly against his lips, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible on this balcony, threatening to tip over the edge any second now. "I'm gonna—"

"Mm, I don't think so, love." He teases when he feels you clench around his fingers.

"Wanna cum, San. Please." You beg and San smirks. He removes his digits from inside of you, letting out an evil [and fucked up] chuckle. "Sannie." You whine, feeling needy and so incredibly weak at how he stripped you of your orgasm. You needed him, badly. You craved him, badly. "I need to—"

"And you will. Just not now." He teases. "Open for me." He says, slipping his two digits into your mouth to watch you suck on your own juices— tongue swirling around his pretty fingers. "Taste good, baby?" You nod so innocently. "That's my good girl. I'll make the wait worthwhile, hm?" He grips your jaw as he talks lowly near your ear. He begins to trail kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue swiping across the surface before nibbling and sucking ever so gently. As much as he'd love to paint your skin with all those marks, he knows he shouldn't.

"San, please." You beg again, hands tangled in the ends of his hair as he continues to kiss your neck in all the right spots. San is pressed up against you, and you can feel his hard, aching cock against your thigh. Your hand comes down to give it a feel, a quick squeeze, before he's letting out a low, breathy moan against your skin.

"Bed. Now." He demands, letting you lead the way to the bedroom;

A trail of clothes following suit.

Shirt gone. Pants gone. Dress gone.

Boxers off to the side. Panties somewhere in the room.

Balcony door still wide the fuck open.

He gets you situated on the edge of the bed, keeping your legs cocked open for him as he dives right in to get a taste of you. He swipes his tongue up, teasing your clit before sucking gently. He continues to lap away at your heat— expertly tonguing your folds in between and teasing your entrance. At some point, he slips in a digit; finger fucking you while he watches you writhe from his angle. You let out his name a few times, your moaning and begging sounding like pure music to his ears.

"Wanna cum for me?" You nod, eager to unravel and snap in his hold. "You've been good, baby. Go ahead and cum for me."

"Fuck— please." He spits on your pussy and continues to suck away at your clit; allowing you to grip his head with slight force as you keep him in his position and grind against his mouth, his tongue. "Oh shit—" You mewl, yelling his name shortly after as you come undone— body twitching as your orgasm hits you like a wave. San continues to latch on until your body settles, releasing himself from in between your thighs to hover over you and plant a trail of gentle kisses up your stomach;

Chest.

Neck.

Until he meets your lips in a deep, heated kiss. His hand comes up to cup your breast, thumb toying with your nipple while you respond to his touch. You lazily stroke him while he continues to kiss you, letting out low groans in between.

"Turn around for me, sweetheart." He whispers against your lips, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling back. You do as you're told, flipping onto your tummy as San presses you down against the mattress— ass up and backed up against him. He runs his hand down your back, pressing feathery kisses against the surface before slowly stroking himself and lining up at your entrance. He eases himself in, the both of you letting out loud moans that fill the room; probably echoing out into the balcony. He buries himself to the hilt before working at a slower pace, hands gripping your hips while he adjusts to the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He watches his cock slip in and out of you, your slickness coating his length. He hisses at the sight, head tilting back in pure pleasure as he finally begins to pound into you.

"That's my fucking good girl." He presses you down into the mattress, keeping your ass up against him. You continue to moan loudly, San giving your ass a loud smack as he continues to thrust into you roughly. "Tell me— whose pussy is this?"

"Yours."

"Louder, baby. Tell me whose is it."

"Yours!" You cry, San groaning behind you as he gives your ass another smack.

"Fuck, that's right." He groans. "So perfect, angel. You're all mine." He tugs on your hair and pulls you back towards him slightly, giving him leverage to moan praises in your ear as he continues to fuck into you. "Want you to ride me, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod in between your whines, desperate to do anything for your man—

Desperate to feel him in any way, desperate to tip over the edge and come undone.

Suddenly, San pulls himself out and you feel empty. He lays back on the bed, resting against the headboard as he has you climb ontop and face the balcony doors.

"Yeah, baby. Like that." He moans lowly while you instantly start to work him at a steady pace, eager to fill this ache in your core. "Always know how to ride me— made for me." He praises from behind as you swirl your hips around and bounce on his cock like no tomorrow. The new angle works in your favor deliciously; his perfectly thick cock rubbing against your walls and knocking his tip right at that delicate spot that always has you spiraling. You call his name out like a mantra as your hips work faster, sloppier.

You don't think you can hold on any longer.

"Mm— feels too good—San." Your moans are broken, breathing irregular. San knows you're close. "Can I cum?" You whimper, no longer able to hold back. "Wanna cum for you again." You plead cutely.

"Yes you can, love. Look at you, so pretty riding me." He praises you. "I'm getting there, just—fuck— keep doing that." He watches the way your ass bounces on him, relishing in the way your walls tighten around him. "Doing so well."

He'll snap.

"Sannie—" Everything feels like a blur, like white noise, when your orgasm comes crashing down on you in one swift motion. Your moan bounces off the walls as you still in his grip and ride out your orgasm; San fucking up into you to chase his own high shortly afterwards.

"Oh shit—" San's face contorts in pleasure, brows knitting tightly as he shoots his cum into you. "Shit." He repeats in between low groans, his fingers digging into your flesh as he releases every last drop inside of you. Cum damn near dripping out of your pussy.

"Oh my god." You pant, finally able to come to your senses post-orgasm. You give yourself a minute before carefully climbing off, giggling at San's fucked out look. You kiss him sweetly on the lips, continuing a string of tiny repeated kisses before you gain energy to head to the shower. "Gonna wash up if you wanna join me?" San smirks as he watches you head into the shower and turn the water on. He sighs before hopping off the bed and following suit, slipping into the shower right behind you. At first, it starts off sweet; San carefully taking his time with massaging the shampoo and conditioner in your hair and vice versa in between sharing deep, heated kisses.

His hands roam up your body, sweet touches and gentle moves— just to take you again in the shower; your back pressed against the cold wall, his arm hooked under your leg to prop it up while he fucks up into you harshly, roughly.

His name being called over, and over, and over again; just the way he likes it. Making you cum over, and over, and over again; just the way he likes it.

Because you are his, and he is yours.

The next morning comes, and you're awaken by San's soft hand slowly rubbing up your back along with his soft kisses to your bare shoulder. The sun is beaming through the balcony doors, providing extra warmth as San cuddles close to you.

"Wake up." He whispers in your ear, still continuing his motions on your back.

"I'm so tired." You mumble into the pillow, causing San to chuckle.

"Let's get breakfast before the conference."

"Is it really time already?"

"Mhm." He hums in a sing-song tone, now gently massaging your back.

"Can't we just stay like this?"

"You know I'd want that more than anything." He gives you a kiss to the head before dragging his body out of the sheets and into the bathroom. You stretch and fully wake yourself up, grabbing San's button-up from the nearby chair and slipping it on. You continue with your normal morning routine— the only difference this time is having San around, which makes things feel a little more complete. Once you've both gotten yourselves together, San is in a plain black tee and black jeans, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose; you're in a simple get-up of a tight, white tee, dark jeans, an oversized blazer and boots. The two of you add finishing touches to hair or makeup before cleaning up around the room and heading downstairs to the next door restaurant for brunch. It's still pretty early, so you and San were sat immediately at a table on the back patio, facing the beach.

"This is pretty." You look out at the view. "It's perfect weather today."

"Yeah, it is." He flips through the menu. "You already know what you want, baby?"

"Mhm." You giggle. "I checked out the menu earlier." He laughs.

"Course."

"You ready to lead one of the panel discussions later?" He smiles.

"Uh, I'd say I'm way more relaxed knowing I don't have to prepare anything in advance." You nod. "What're you gonna do?"

"Listen in. Visit some posters after."

"Good thing my panel discussion is early. I actually don't plan on staying long unless you do."

"No. I only came for you, remember?" You tease. "I'm surprised they still managed to slip you into the conference somehow even though you confirmed last minute. You're so wanted, Professor Choi." He shakes his head. Suddenly, your phone starts blaring off to the side, your eyes darting straight down to the caller ID flashing on the screen.

Jiung.

That's right.

You said you'd call him back.

"You should get that, love." You silently nod, swiping to answer the call.

"Hey."

"Okay, well. At least you're alive."

"Jiung." You whine a bit. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Bro." Jiung chuckles a bit, though kinda disappointed he hasn't been able to spend time with his bestfriend or even talk to you like before. You feel busy, but too distant, and Jiung isn't sure how to feel about it. "Where have you been? You're always so busy now. I was lowkey expecting you to call back last night but you didn't even do that when you usually do." You fiddle with the hem of your shirt before letting out a small sigh.

"I'm sorry. I know. It's just been crazy hectic, but I promise I'll do better, okay?" San looks at you from where he's sitting, slight concern crossing his expression.

"It's not that. Sorry— I just miss being able to hang out with you like before. You feel so distant even though you're right there."

—FLASHBACK

"Ayooooo!" Sunwoo says, running into Jiung near the Harvey Center. He gives him a dap and pulls him in for a hug, pausing in his steps to catch up with him for a quick minute. "What's up? Crazy I've barely ran into you all this time."

"Aye." Jiung laughs. "How's everything been?"

"Dude, pretty busy. But, I think Y/N and I have gotten some really good data to work off of for her rotation update and for the upcoming review cycles for the paper."

"That's awesome, I'm glad."

"How're things in Jongho's lab?"

"Constantly moving, you know how it is." He nods in agreement. "But making progress for my own rotation update, too."

"Sick. Proud of you." Sunwoo nods. "When is Y/N coming back from the conference?"

"I'm not sure actually. Probably Monday or Tuesday."

"I feel like I've barely seen her even though we're in the same lab." Jiung cocks his head to the side.

"Don't you guys work on behavior together?"

"Uh, for awhile, she's been working on her own schedule and catches me up later on. We only meet if we need to, like to go over data or if something goes wrong elsewhere."

"But, I thought you guys have been working late nights? She always says she's running off to the lab for the mice or behavior work." Sunwoo shrugs.

"Sorry dude, beats me. She hasn't been in the lab late at night for awhile. Our mice have been fine and we're wrapping up this cohort."

"Huh." Jiung says audibly, even though he meant it for himself.

"Yeah. She left for the Baskin Conference hella quick. I didn't even see her at NAS."

"Wait, really? I thought—" It's Sunwoo's turn to look confused. "Nevermind. I thought she saw you."

"Nah, she said she was busy with you guys all week!"

"So, she didn't sleep at yours or Belle's room?" Sunwoo tilts his head.

"Bruh, what? No." He laughs. "She definitely wasn't with us, so I'm not sure who she was with."

"I see." Jiung nods slowly. "Yeah, I guess it's just been hectic for her."

"I bet. I remember rotation days." He chuckles. "Anyway, gotta run. It was nice catching up for a quick minute." Jiung nods before parting ways. He lets out a breath, running his hand through his hair as he pulls out his phone.

He pauses.

What the fuck was he even gonna ask? How was he even gonna ask? While you're away, too?

What is even going through his mind right now?

"Ugh." Jiung groans, pulling up Felix's number to see if he's around, hoping it'll get his mind off of things until he can cohesively gather his thoughts. Meanwhile, Zara and Jongho are sitting at a table outside, waiting for the rest of the group to trickle in for lunch. Zara is having a fun, light conversation with Jongho about future lab plans just as Jiung crosses over. With Jiung passing the café, Zara suddenly gets triggered to ask the most pressing question she's had since the NAS conference. And Jongho senses it too, because by the time she shifts her attention back to him, he's already cocking a brow up.

"Jongho."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure? I might have an answer."

"San." Jongho smirks a bit as he sips on his iced americano.

"Ew." He laughs in his usual Jongho fashion, causing Zara to giggle shyly at her attempts of hiding her crush on his bestfriend. "Kidding. What about him?"

"Actually, now I'm kinda shy."

"No, you already put it out there so you have to ask now." Jongho chuckles.

"Has he been seeing anyone recently?" He takes a sip and sits back, letting out a sigh.

"You know, to be honest. I can't say for sure, but I think he is." He looks at her and can physically see the hope leaving her body. She's sad, and she has a right to be. Mingi tried his best to set them up and for a split second, it seemed like it could work.

Obviously, it didn't.

"I'm sorry, Zara. I know that's not what you wanna hear, but I have to be honest so that you don't get hurt. I think whatever your gut has been telling you is right."

"Is it too much to ask who? Like are they from here?" He shrugs.

"That asshole hasn't told me much lately." She laughs, and Jongho feels relieved he can at least cheer her up amidst the news.

He knows.

He knows exactly who it is and how long it's been. San didn't have to tell him, but he could have at least let her know he wasn't interested. Fucking Choi San.

"It's fine. It shouldn't matter anyway, he seems to be happy."

"Yeah." Jongho adds. "Yeah, he does."

"And I just hope he's doing the right thing." Jongho looks at her without saying much besides a simple nod.

Maybe, she knows too.

—END

"I know." Silence. "I'll make up for it when I get back."

"All good. I just hadda get it off of my chest."

"We'll plan things like the old days, k?"

"When are you getting back, anyway?"

"Tomorrow evening. Late."

"Hm, okay. Are you enjoying your stay at least?"

"I am, it's really nice here."

"That's good. Enjoy yourself there, but be safe, please."

"I will."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you sure you are?" What he really means to say is 'i know you haven't been telling the truth and i just wanna know why.'

"I am, Jiung. I promise."

"Did you see anyone there, by the way? Any familiar faces? Professors?" You furrow your brows at the random question.

"Hm, no. Not yet, at least. I've been staying at a hotel that's a little farther out."

"Oh. Why? Was it cheaper?"

"Mhm." You respond just to brush off the topic.

"I heard Professor Choi was gonna be there, though!"

"Mm. I think it might've been mentioned by him in passing." Jiung fiddles with the hem of his shirt while he listens to the awkward silence on the other line, trying to figure out what exactly he's trying to hear from you. He remembers Jurin mentioning that she saw you with Professor Choi at the bar and she jokingly teased about it. And Jiung laughed it off. But, now he doesn't think it's a joke anymore. Cause everything within him is pointing to something he thinks is entirely off, entirely wrong. Unreal.

Unacceptable.

But, the pieces to the puzzle are slowly being put together and he swears he can't ignore the feeling in his gut. What exactly is it trying to tell him?

That it's true?

He doesn't want it to be, and for once, he hopes he's fucking wrong.

"Alright, well. I'll let you be." He yawns. "I'm about to go out for a run."

"Be safe."

"Text me when you get home, please?"

"I will."

"Is.. everything okay?" You sigh and set your phone aside.

"Yeah, it's just Jiung. We've always been close and we've always spent a lot of time together so he was just wondering where I've been."

"I'm sorry, baby."

"No, you don't have to say sorry. I just have to be better about my time and spending more time with my friends. Kinda hard when you have a hot bf." He snorts.

"But, you should spend more time with them. I'm not going anywhere so don't worry about me."

"It's on me."

"You think they know who you've been spending time with?" He smirks just as the waitress comes to set down the food. San gives her a quick nod of appreciation before returning his attention to you.

"I don't think so."

"Even Jiung?"

"Doubt it." You start digging into your food.

"Can I ask you one more thing, angel?" You look up at him and nod, chewing your food. "Have you ever thought Jiung liked you as more than a friend?"

"No way." He cocks a brow up as he eats.

"You sure?"

"I'm so sure, Sannie."

"I'm genuinely just curious. He seems to really care about you."

"And I do, too. But, we do as friends."

"Fair enough." Is all San says. He's not entirely bothered by it, but at the same time, he is. Because he knows they'll find out one day. He knows the relationship won't always be a secret to your friends. He's just not sure what that means when it comes to Jiung and how much of a voice he'll be in your ear. Would he try to convince you that San doesn't care about you? Would he try to convince you that all of this was incredibly wrong? Force you to face the facts and wake the hell up?

He brushes the thoughts away when you start talking about your mom and how you plan to see her next weekend. The conversation goes down the rabbit hole— the two of you exchanging more childhood stories and memories.

When breakfast is done, you and San drive over to the venue for the conference. The session for the panel discussion he's participating in starts right after the first talk of the conference. When he pulls up to the venue, he luckily finds a spot at the back end, far corner. It's a bit of a walk to the main entrance, and San is having to walk in first since he needs to check in and head straight to the mic room for audio testing and a quick run down of what to expect. You trail in a few minutes after, checking in as a regular guest and grabbing the agenda on your way into the main conference room where all the talks and poster sessions would be taking place.

You don't see any familiar faces or professors you personally know, which allows you to release a breath of relief. You settle into a seat as the first speaker gets introduced and settled onto the stage, the crew bringing up her presentation on the projector. San is sitting off to the side with two other people— names you are slightly familiar with, but haven't done much research on their work or what they've been up to. Everyone around you is dressed in business casual attire as well, taking notes as she continues to go through her 20 minute presentation. Once the 20 mins breezes on by, the host kicks off the 10 min discussion session that starts off with San highlighting some of her data. It does spark a lively conversation between the panelists and the crowd, a few people raising their hands for quick questions.

After her session finishes, the host introduces the next talk that follows the same format, then the last of the session. It's about a good hour and a half, shy over a few minutes, that they conclude session one and adjourn for a break before session two. You head to the opposite end of the room to see the posters up at this time, pausing at a few and jotting down some notes for Belle and Sunwoo. You know they'd be interested in hearing your findings, and you've already stumbled across some intriguing projects in the 15 minutes you've walked down the aisle. As session two kicks off, you continue to observe the rest of the posters, spotting San in the crowd speaking to a small group of people around him. You watch him for a little, adoring the way he flawlessly pulls people in and charms them with his signature, dimpled smile. He has a hand in his pocket, cup of coffee in the other hand.

It's definitely black coffee and you can't help but wince a little to yourself knowing he's happily sipping that.

And, somehow, he always manages to catch you. Just as you're about to turn and finish up with the posters, he meets your gaze and gives you a tiny smile. His eyes linger on you for a little longer before he returns his attention to the group, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks as you pass through the remaining presenters.

san: wanna head out after session 3?

you: damn already? 🤣

san: baby? lol.

san: i meant it when i said i wasn't trying to stay long. 🥹

san: i just wanna get out of here and spend more time with you before we have to fly back.

you: mkay, lover boy. hahaha

san: come meet me by the ballroom entrance, we can find a seat together once session 2 wraps up.

you: okay, professor!

You do as you're told, meeting San by the entrance. You stick by his side as you wait for session two to wrap up, proceeding to the free seats near the left side of the room. The both of you keep it strictly professional as others settle around you, only really discussing things like your findings from the poster session or his panel discussion.

No one bats an eye.

Meanwhile, Yunho walks into lobby and struts into the conference late. He rushed over from a prior commitment, only deciding to join the conference since he was already in the area. Session 3 is about to end, but Yunho is at the back, greeting those around him quietly before taking a moment to stroll down the posters. He asks a few questions, engages with a few presenters before running into other familiar faces and conversing with them. He follows them over to the finger foods that have been set out for lunch, grabbing some quick bites to nibble on. At some point, he hurries off to the bathroom to release himself and quickly freshen up— already pretty exhausted from his day, and it's barely past lunch time.

When Yunho exits the bathroom, he has to pause in his steps when he does a double-take after hearing the side back door shut and catches you with San. The two of you are leaving the venue— his hand on the small of your back while he hurriedly guides you to the passenger's seat of his car near the back end of the lot. Yunho continues to watch as San slips into the front seat, swallowing the lump in this throat as he pulls out and drives off.

Now, Yunho feels the conflict bubbling within him cause he didn't want to be right.

Yet, he is.

And it can't be good for anybody.

"Hey." Yunho answers the call [coincidentally] coming in from his wife. He sets down the hall, eyes still peering out into the lot as if he can see more of you and San. He clearly doesn't, but it doesn't make the feeling in his stomach settle.

"Hey! How's the conference going?"

"It's going well! Nothing too crazy." Is all he manages to say, which catches Iseul off guard. He's typically one to say more, so him holding back feels weird to her.

"You sure it's going well? You sound pretty quiet."

"Yeah, uh. It's nothing."

"Love." He sighs, silently greeting familiar faces before excusing himself to the corner of the lobby where it's a little quieter.

"I just don't know how to explain what I saw."

"Try?"

"San's here with Y/N, my TA."

"Okay? She's rotating in his lab, right? People meet up with their students all the time, I don't get it?"

"No, baby. Listen. I think he's here.. with her." There's a small pause before Iseul speaks up again.

"Are you sure? Cause that's a pretty bold assumption. You know something like that is serious and can cause a lot of issues."

"I don't know. I can't say, but I'm just feeling weird about it. I did see them together at NAS, too. Saw them getting kinda close with each other, away from the crowd." Yunho just briefly remembers running into you and San on his way out of the bathroom. The two of you had been standing off to the side in a far corner, sipping on some water while talking. San was standing in close proximity to you, smiling down at you almost like—

There was fondness in his eyes, some kind of awe and admiration for you.

Yunho and San haven't talked in years, but he still knows what that look is. He's seen it before.

Starting with the symposium.

"Yunho, why don't you talk to Namjoon?"

"No, no." He shakes his head as he continues to pace around the same corner. "Not gonna do that right now cause what if I'm entirely wrong? I don't have any other concrete facts besides what I saw. What if he's just offering her a ride?"

"I mean, that could mean something or nothing at all. Were they just walking alongside of each other or..?"

"Uh, no." He scratches at his temple. "He had his hand on her back and guided her to the car."

"Okay, so it's something. You should talk to Namjoon." He shakes his head— torn between doing what's right versus what's wrong; aka letting San be happy despite how fucked up all of that is on the surface level.

"I, yeah— Anyway, that's all. Enough about that, I'll figure it out." Iseul sighs. "Conference is good though, seeing more familiar faces than I did at NAS."

"Hm." Iseul hums, now thinking about the idea of San potentially dating a student. She doesn't try to meddle though because both her and Yunho don't have much to work with. And although her and San don't get along, she doesn't wanna cause any more trouble for him. "That's good, honey."

Yet, at the same time, there's no way she can let this be now. Yunho opened that door and they're here.

If she needs to help him figure it out, then that's exactly what she'll do.

—read 9.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling

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writingwisterias · 2 days ago

Text

New Beginnings

Leon Kennedy X AFAB!Reader (Pictured Leon between Re2 &RE4R) Warnings: FLUFF, Slight Angst, Dad Leon, Summary: After being sent to training, he returns home to meet his new girl for the time.. This is based off this ERAs and requested by anon to extend it!

Leon,

I’m not sure if you will get this, mom wasn't sure if they would let you have these whilst you were in training but I wanted you to get the updates still. I went for my first scan today, they said everything looks good. I've been craving lots of cucumbers. Mom said she thinks I'll turn into one if I keep going. They also lied about morning sickness…it's all the damn time. The first trimester is almost over, I've sent you a photo of the scan and the bump

Stay safe.

Your love <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon,

I’ve been missing you a lot recently, our little girl is kicking all the time. I think she gets it from you! Oh no, I revealed the gender…I can't believe we are having a little girl. Mom and Dad helped me set up a new nursery in a flat that I managed to get close to them. I’ve given you another photo of the bump and the latest scan. I think I've popped now...cravings are still cucumbers and morning sickness has subsided.

Stay safe,

Your love xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon,

Not long to go now, the nursery is all setup. I chose an enchanted woodland theme. Lots of little creatures hiding around the room. Filled with greens and it just feels cosy I can't wait for you to see it. I think she's about ready to come out now, she's kicking like mad and dropped really low. I'm scared but I know that you have been brave all this time so I'll do it for us. I really hope you are okay…I miss you like crazy. Even though she feels like I have a part of you with me.

Stay safe

Love

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon,

Wow, what a whirlwind, our little girl was born a couple of months ago. She's been a handful so it took me a while to write this letter…if they even give them to you! The delivery is rough but worth it. She has the cutest blond hair and blue eyes you wouldn't believe! I've picked my favourite pictures of the past few months…I know they'll be returned to me soon enough anyway.

See you soon

Love xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon stared at the letters from where he spread them out on the little tray on the plane. His reflection is sharper and colder than when you last saw him. Guilt and nerves collided through his system like a drug, his stomach bubbling with anxiety as they announced the landing. Your handwriting hadn't changed over the years, always the same cursive font that was written in the margins of his textbooks. He smiled at the small doodles decorating the edges where he knew you were just thinking of what to say. It felt unreal like he was going to wake up to some sick dream the world decided to play on him. To take away this tiny lifeline of happiness he had left.

He wondered what would happen if he didn't return if he left you both untouched by the taint that he carried with him. The rucksack of nightmares he had seen in the past two years, the one he had to train his shoulders to carry. His hands were rough, his eyes piercing. Would you even be able to find the same soul that you fell in love with before?

And then there was his daughter, something born out of pure innocent love. A romance blossoming on the white picket fence fantasy he always dreamed of…only to now have a father who was unsure if he could provide that for any of you. If he could even step up to be the man she needed. The one she would run to when she needed help with boys or the kids bullying him. The few campmates he did get along with told him that he didn't miss the precious moments. That there was still time for him to form a loving bond between father and daughter. A small part of him inside hated the photos as they were evidence of everything he missed, all the small kicks and the cravings you experienced. Not being able to soothe you when it all got too much just like you did that night.

The attendant announced the plane landing, the runway coming into view masking his reflection. Leon folded all the letters again, having remembered every letter and word you imprinted on the page. The ink smudged on some of them. The pictures were tucked in the cheap wallet he bought when he was at the airport safe for when he needed them. His movements were calculated and careful, Leon's mind already aware of everyone around him as he moved. He helped the older lady next to him with her back, his arm held out to guide her off the plane. He watched the bittersweet reunion as her daughter found her. Their cries of happiness blend into the chaos with the other people around them, the further he gets away. Worry settled when he thinks about accidentally walking past you as he left the gate. His eyes scanned for any figure he remembered. The silhouette that visited him in his dreams was like an angel. Leon often swore he could still feel your phantom touch the next morning as his cheek always felt slightly warmer as he completed his early laps of the base. The warmth was always welcomed, however, instead of the coldness of Krauser's stare or his words as he corrected him again.

Then he saw it, the cursive writing of some paper sign in the corner of his eye. The bold letter was held by a woman who scanned her eyes over the crowd. His name and the fingers that grasped the sign were yours.

Leon took a moment, watching as people continued to move around him. Taking advantage of his hardened appearance to watch you. His eyes are not failing to notice the young girl on your hip. The now two-year-old waved at people as they passed, her hand grasping the charm on your necklace tightly. The photos didn't do her justice, she looked exactly like him. Her piercing blue eyes met his. They always said kids notice more than adults.

He watched the way her curious stare ran over him, trying to figure him out…almost like he was familiar to her. You had noticed she’d gone quiet. Turning your head to look at where the young girl had now rested it on your shoulder. He watched as you asked her what was wrong, shifting her in your arms slightly. Your hip jolts out to support her weight better. Leon's feet didn't move, they couldn't. Right, there was all he ever wanted. Did he deserve it? Was it actually his? The perfect dream, the one he saw every single night in that stupid bunk amongst the snores of his bunkmates.

His whole body froze as you looked at him, the whole world stopped. Your love washed over him like a tide crashing against rocks. It was fierce, strong and unstoppable. The current is already pulling him into your ocean of affection. His little girl began to cry as you passed her to your mum. Your feet are already pounding on the airport carpet as you bolt it to him. He didn't know what else to do but welcome you, like the hole in his heart was finally filled. The two years apart suddenly ended with a new beginning.

You collided into his chest with such force he stumbled. His own emotions leak out into the softness of your skin. Words failed him, they seemed to fail you as well as you held him in silence. Your smaller frame fits against his own with no change. However, you could feel the new muscles. His hardened grip is proof of his changes not that you cared about them. You would learn to love this new version just as you promised on that one night. Your promise was never forgotten when he left in that black car. Your heart is still soul-tied to him.

Leon's breath faltered when you pulled away, his biceps subconsciously pulling you in closer. Your eyes met his, your warm smile melting his tough gaze. “There he is,” you whispered. At your words, he crumbled, his frame shaking as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He tried to smile, to muster up the courage to say anything. Part of you regretted bringing your daughter now fearing he would be overwhelmed in meeting her in this state. Yet to his credit, he stood up straighter, a small smile filling his features. His hand cradled your face bringing you into a long-awaited kiss. He didn't need to speak. You knew exactly what he wanted to say. You could feel the love radiating from him, pouring it into the first kiss. His soul begging for redemption from situations you didn't know he had experienced. His hands were almost afraid to touch you, to swallow you in the darkness he had retreated himself into.

You heard her before you felt her, the small stumbling steps of your two-year-old as she collided with your legs almost taking you off your feet.

You watched Leon's eyebrows pinch in concern as he felt your body buckle, hands sprawled out on his chest to catch yourself. Your daughter's hands gripped at your legs, small tugs on your shirt as she whimpered to be picked up. Leon's demeanour changed when you did. His body regained the stiffness as he looked at her closely. Their eye contact was intense both trying to figure out what to make of each other. “Baby, This is daddy remember?” You prompted, eyes solely focused on the small girl. Leon was grateful for that, you couldn’t see his flinch at the word. The small girl nodded her hand outstretched to him.

That was the thing about children, always curious. No matter if they were reaching out towards unknown danger. You would have protected her if you thought it was dangerous. Part of him wanted to back away, careful not to let the innocent fingers touch his blood-stained skin afraid if they pulled away her tiny hands would be strained red. You knew otherwise, you always did. Allowed these hands to cradle your face, to hold you when he finally returned home. Her hand touched the stubble that coated his cheeks, the small strands of hair prickly against her tiny fingers. You watched him process the touch, his frame softening arms finally wrapping around the both of you.

“Daddy” The girl muttered, a small toothy grin growing on her features. Her small arms wrapped around his neck as he swung from you to him. She was so small against him, his large arms hiding her from the surrounding crowd. His other one holding you close. “Thank you…I’m sorry I wasn’t..” Leon finally spoke. You shook your head, “You were always here, How do you think she knows who you are?” You smiled. He was home, different, but home. Your parents picked up his bags as they followed you both home. He was too busy carrying his whole world in his arms anyway.

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine

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embbarnes · 1 day ago

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I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

#fic rec #flowersforbucky

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