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taegularities · 3 months

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entertainer | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut!! ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, a shit ton of sexual tension, sexual fantasies, some jealousy from his side, he is very VERY attracted to her, mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, difficult past(s), (mention of) sexual harassment, mentioned past death of a side character, crying, fear, manipulation, confrontation and fighting, aggression, cursing, cocky and selfish kook, overthinking, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content: kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, dom jk, oc is odd, oral (f. receiving), spit stuff, handjob, manhandling, orgasm delay, lip ring…, light choking, bit of hair pulling, a spank or two, coming on oc, some cum tasting mmmh, ass stuff, protected sex, rough sex, various positions, masturbation; as always THE ENDING!! lmk if i forgot something!! ➳ wc: 32.4k ➳ a/n: MHMMM, it's finally time!! i experimented with the trope a little; def not a professional when it comes to this genre, but i tried my best. both oc and jk are odd in this one, and you might be on either's side and hate either of them, i can't say :'D very curious tho, so come and drop a message to lmk what you think. let it aaaall out :P <3

➳ listen to the Entertainer playlist! 🖤

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

Jungkook has always wanted an audience to perceive him.

Not just to perceive him, in fact. To worship him.

Jungkook doesn’t consider himself a bad person. Spoiled, a little selfish, but not necessarily bad. He enjoys attention, no matter how temporary or who the giver of it. Feasts on it like an incubus.

What’s wrong with that? Nothing.

Or.

Maybe there is. Maybe he’s coming on too strong.

Because you’re not part of his audience, sitting over there, middle row, middle spot, with your eyes lowered to the notebook. And when you do look up, there’s nothing but indifference in your eyes.

It irks him. Maybe he is a little narcissistic, and maybe he can’t quite deny it after all — but as part of his future team, you should at least fake a smile, right? Display a certain amount of enthusiasm, the joy of working with aspiring artists.

But no.

You’re occupied, scribbling into your notebook. Jungkook, cognisant of the fact that he hasn’t issued much of significance today, understands that you cannot be taking notes of his words. And he also understands that… if that is true…

You’re not granting him as much fascination as he’s used to.

General admiration thrown into the same bucket as his unwavering talent — that he’s well aware of — might just be the reason he climbed up so high in no time. Sometimes, gentle livestreams and vlogs do the trick — locals have found reasons to adore him already.

At times, a good song and strong vocals aren’t necessary to woo people.

Jungkook, however, is insatiable — that’s what keeps him pondering at times. That it’s just the locals, and on an international scale, there’s still much to achieve.

But he’s not a quitter, he’s a conqueror.

And he’ll reach that mind-boggling status of a well-known, global icon, name flowing as naturally through the seam of people’s lips as a still-lying, tranquil lake.

Jungkook knows it’s cocky of him to praise himself to the skies and to rely on his resolute hopes so much. He knows life backfires sometimes, and that endeavours don’t always pay off. He only started as an insignificant city boy, too.

Survived the cruelty of elementary and middle school; shared a room with his brother, relying on him until he grew and learned to finally rule over high school; every single soul at his beck and call. Then, trudged through college before any of where he’s standing even existed.

But he’s here now. And people acknowledge it.

Except you.

And it throws him off his balance. Which is probably why he shortens the end of his speech, close to slurring distracted syllables before he realises he’s forgotten a prepared sentence or two.

No matter; the relevant and main message should have been delivered by now.

So he leans back in a chair in the back, flashing a captivating smile and waits for the applause. Somewhat proud when the praise needs a moment to cease for his manager to reclaim the mic, freeing the metaphorical stage, much in the form of a simple pult, for the CEO of the company.

Taehyung is savvy of how to regain control over a stage; Jungkook doesn’t know whether he fucked up his final remarks, but Taehyung summarises his ideas well. But the clapping does say a lot.

And between those raising their hands to appreciate Jungkook’s speech, you were, too. He knows because he looked directly at you; still is. And when your eyes drift to his, the two of you hold each other’s gazes for at least a couple seconds longer than the others.

And your smile, while present, is somewhat tight-lipped, a bit awkward but confident, too. Odd, as well; hard to explain, but as though you know what you want. As though you have your priorities set straight and cannot be swayed by anything the world might throw at you.

He doesn’t have a word for it. Poised? Self-reliant? Fearless? Can a single look even say this much or is he being delusional?

But this can’t be true, honestly. Nobody is this unperturbed or passive. He’ll find out.

Your stare aligns with his a couple more times over the next minutes, staying there before continuing the journey over the crowd. Jungkook’s eyebrows twitch just a little whenever your eyes pierce into his, so tantalising and deep, big sweet ires, but so conniving at the same time.

He doesn’t know your name, but he’s sure that it defines intrigue. And maybe, just perhaps, it might serve as the synonym for drop fucking dead gorgeous, too.

When Taehyung leads you to Jungkook’s stuffy studio, the latter hears your voice through the open door several seconds before you come in. Or actually, it’s not quite his studio.

More like a collective office that a couple of the newcomers use. Jungkook has been part of this crew a little longer, but he needs the additional success, more prosperity; he’s been told to yield more results to earn his very own four walls. Carrying his signature flavour.

But it’s okay. For now, this suffices…

The stench of coffee and the sound of the AC. The pot and plants that always rest in some corner of the room, courtesy of Taehyung who insists on some colour in the grey-white, small room. Jungkook has gotten used to it all.

Which is why it’s strange, seeing your splendour enter the small space, delighted by whatever Taehyung might be explaining. Your grin is the widest Jungkook has seen since yesterday.

He didn’t get to meet you properly yet, so he can’t say where your humour lies. Nobody introduced you, despite your new position as his very own, personal work partner. A second manager, here to guide and aid him when Taehyung can’t; and apparently, you’ve found some charm in Taehyung that you didn’t see in Jungkook during the stupid meeting.

Not that Jungkook would ever dare to doubt his friend’s appeal, but you’ve stormed into his life like a present, and so silently, too; and he wanted to be the one to open it. To reveal it.

Not Taehyung. Even if it’s his job.

Okay. Calm down. Jungkook sighs. That again.

A motherly blanket of praises and fatherly pats of pride. That’s what’s gotten his head so riled up. He was coddled too much as a child. Made felt special. That’s over now, Jeon, you’re in an industry filled to the brim with competition.

Chill chill chill.

But now?

With that alluring smile staring up at Taehyung, only hints of it left when your eyes move to Jungkook. Fuck.

But Jungkook’s stance remains steadfast and self-assured when he greets, “Hi there. Welcome at last, huh?”

Jungkook notices when your mind snaps out of the conversation with Taehyung and into the one he started; a gentle hand frees your face off your hair to enable a proper view to it. The other is still dug deep in the pocket of your leather jacket, covering parts of the white top underneath.

Semi-long, silver earrings rest right below your ear, against your neck when you tilt your head a little; your expression so respectful and inviting when you smile. Jungkook inhales you in that one split moment, details stinging into the eye without much effort.

And perhaps he’d observe more, appreciate your stunning, obvious beauty and elegance further; but time passes as it does before you finally utter your very first sentence to him, “Hi. Didn’t think I’d ever be saying this, but… thank you for having me.”

That’s sweet.

Your words are reminiscent of the adoration his fans grant him, but your expression is as cool as a refreshing autumn wind. The perfect balance, possibly.

Jungkook gestures to a small couch in the back, right next to the door, but you raise a rejecting hand, claiming, “Been sitting all day observing Taehyung. Need to walk a bit.”

And you do. Deliver a last farewell nod to Taehyung who waves a little, gripping the handle and locking you in the room with the younger man nearly drooling over you.

The hand hidden in the jacket before has emerged, arms loosely folded as you take in the interior of the studio, allowing no more insight into your thoughts than, “Nice.”

Jungkook hums in distracted agreement, standing at the wall, watching you roam around the humble space in small steps. It’s odd, being in here with you; the atmosphere fizzles, a little less like electricity, just a bit more than carbonic acid.

But the moment was to arrive anyway; you’ll be a close link to Jungkook from now on. Of course you need to familiarise yourself with his space, too. So far, you seem to have an opinion on it already.

“Easy to trigger claustrophobia, but,” you walk through the open door to the darker recording room, tapping the mic for a moment, “cosy, too. Very cool equipment.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Pause, eyes dropping to your fingers grazing the stand of the mic. Then, “I would’ve come to you today… or yesterday for that matter, but things were so chaotic and—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assure, waving his concerns off, “I could see people rushing around and preparing the moment I got here. I’m probably not the main concern right now among everybody.”

“Nah, that’s not it. We have a great team here.” You step out again, hands folding behind your back until you’re leaning against the wall opposite of him, mirroring his stance. “I’m sorry you arrived at such a stressful time, though.”

“Not your fault. I decided so myself fully knowing you were in the middle of something.”

Ah. So you’ve seen his interviews, read the news. You came here with sufficient knowledge about him, alright.

“Really though,” you continue, blinking slowly, “I’m just glad to be here at all.”

Ah. Yes — about that.

“What brought you to our company anyway?” Jungkook asks, coating his voice in sugar to decrease the risk of unintentional and prying rudeness. “I mean — it’s been a while since somebody joined the main team, is all.”

“Oh. What brought me here…” You slide down the wall just a few inches, staring at your feet before you meet his eyes again. Something flashes in them for a miniscule second, albeit too brief to be caught and analysed. Then, you say, “Sentiments?”

Jungkook gathers words of confusion the moment you utter yours, a question already on his tongue. Has he been here long enough to evoke sentiments in his followers? Or do you veil a whole different connection to this company than he might understand?

Who knows. It doesn’t feel too deep, at least, when you speak again, elaborating when his eyes reveal his bedazzlement before he can, “I mean, I like your work.”

Okay. So much he interpreted; and he must admit — the feeling of pride is a thoroughly unique one.

“I think you’ve been deserving of your growth, and I just,” you speak, shrugging your shoulders, digging one heel into the solid ground, “I could never stop thinking of what I’d say or do if I was here or how I’d try to help, even though I’m not a true musical genius like you.”

This is so excitingly new.

How poised you remain as you talk about your fascination for him; how carefully you choose your words. He’s met fans before, but he doesn’t think any of them has ever practised such control over themselves.

And harbouring such emotions for a tiny little celebrity like him while simultaneously treating him like a human being is an art you’ve well mastered. Despite Jungkook’s urge to feel loved and worshipped to a dependent degree, you’re an incredibly attractive change in pace.

Ugh.

Dependent degree.

Although, he does wonder what you’d be like if you fawned over him.

Jungkook contains the fantasy; suppresses his sigh.

“So,” he starts, “you’re here because you’re a fan.”

“Mmmh. Kind of. My friends started it and then pulled me into this. Honestly, at first I couldn’t imagine ever getting into your stuff.”

Your gaze moved down to your trainers a mere moment ago; whether to hide your expression or give into a habit, Jungkook can’t say. But the honesty surprises him; even stings a little as he voices, “Oh?”

Your head shoots up, lips forming a circle before you imitate, “Oh. Wait. That was… pretty rude.” You seek confirmation or denial in Jungkook’s eyes, and when his slightly wrinkled forehead, tight-lipped smile reveals the answer, you immediately opt for an apology, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“Just that.” You fiddle in your position, bringing your digits to waist level. Then, you laugh; a rhythmic sound. “Okay, don’t hate me, but. I was one to judge a book by its cover, and you had this young adult too-confident-too-sly something about you. But your music’s surprisingly sentimental.”

Jungkook halts for a moment, moving his head to side-eye you; producing a hoarse Uhhh before he admits, “I’m not sure whether you’re complimenting me or fully destroying me.”

Another lovely laugh. “I am complimenting you. To be fully transparent, I was probably, uh, biased? Because my friend. They have a knack for usually pulling very questionable men, so I probably just didn’t entirely trust their intuition.”

“Fair enough. I guess?” Jungkook matches the softness of your giggle, nodding towards you, “And now you do?”

“Mmmh, well, we’ll see.”

Jungkook must be stupid. Of course you won’t be able to deduce much from the first meeting yet; perhaps the flirting needs to slow down for just now. You seem the patient kind; much like now, letting the quick silence prevail without much struggle.

No sign of awkwardness surrounds your aura; only a hint of… suspicion? Flashing into your eyes when you let them move through the room again, freezing right next to Jungkook’s head. You’re not looking at him, but at something past him; but you don’t question nor voice anything.

Merely return to his stare with a smile, and he uses the moment to pour some courteous manners into the mix, asking, “Do you want something to drink? Coffee, water? A Red Bull?”

But you immediately raise a hand, shaking your head, “Oh, it’s okay. I’ve already got caffeine flowing there instead of blood,” you slide a finger along your arm, indicating a vein under your layers, “I just mainly came to say hi and to introduce myself. And to ask if I can help anyhow.”

“Ah… well, uh,” Jungkook halts mid-sentence, throwing a look around as though he’s searching for something to appear before he concludes, “don’t think so. I was in the middle of some production work, but don’t think I need much.”

“I see. Okay! Then I’ll leave yo—”

“But,” Jungkook intervenes immediately, adamant on keeping you around. Maybe he can wrap up work earlier today? Bring you home? Probably not — not on Taehyung’s watch. “Maybe you can tell me what you think once I’m done?

“Of course. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Would have an excuse for your company, too, then.”

The laugh that follows is so subtle that Jungkook barely hears it. It doesn’t leave your throat, stuck in there, just a tiny sound reminiscent of amused bafflement.

Jungkook knows his way around words — understands what his utterances and implications usually apply. But somehow, not too many people have been the calmer ones in the room; aside from his superiors at work, not having the upper hand is new to him.

So you set a fuse loose in him; destroy a nerve in his brain, changing up his communication habits. Because he certainly did not mean to say this out loud. And not in such a sense either.

He adds quickly, “I mean, it gets lonely here.”

“Right…” you concur, albeit weakly and with somewhat… entertained mystery in your eyes? He can’t say. It’s as though you’re wearing your face as a mask, undecipherable. “I get it. Even though your studio is cosy enough to enjoy your own company at times, right?”

“Not mine. But we’ll work on that.”

He cards his fingers through his hair, aware that he is probably more than an open book right now; his usual perfect poker face does not work with you.

Why?

Weird.

“Got a couple things here that are mine, though. Yoongi and the others allowed me,” he adds.

“Ah… Like…”

Surprisingly enough, you take another look through the tiny room, possibly trying to detect something you didn’t see before. Regarding details. Then, you settle next to his head once again… and once Jungkook moves his eyes off you for the first time since you came in, he sees what you see.

Which is to say, nothing much out of the ordinary. In fact, the most trivial thing in the room.

“Like that?” you voice, pushing yourself off the wall to near his relaxed body. The scent of your perfume wafts through the room before you’re close enough; tenderly grazing his senses. “What’s that?”

Focus.

Your finger points to the object next to him, hanging at a nail at the wall; dark blue with white letters on it. Pretty mundane, pretty basic design.

“Just… a cap I bought back in college.”

You read out the name, pronouncing it perfectly, yet slowing down as if you’re learning a new foreign term. The sudden inquiry is strange, too: you don’t seem as truly curious about it as your question did; perhaps you’re playing for some time with him, too?

He wouldn’t hate it if you did.

“Do you know that one?” he questions.

You nod; a main hint as to why you wanted to know, yet indicating that the knowledge wasn’t of much significance. You say, “Isn’t it a popular one? I had a few friends who went there.”

“Hm… yeah, I mean. I guess it’s a known one. I got a degree there in broadcasting and entertainment like… four years ago.”

You exhale a barely audible puff of air before you whisper-murmur the most infinitesimal, petite, “Damn,” underscored with one indecipherable tilt of your head. He can’t see your eyes too well, so the reaction remains as transparent as you have been thus far.

Until he raises a thick eyebrow, confusion hidden in a somewhat relaxed yet awkward smile as he wonders, “What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just. It’s impressive how much you’ve achieved in just four years, right?”

“…Well. If you say it like that, it does sound pretty neat.”

The bubble of pride expands alongside his ego; right beneath his chest. Somehow, the feeling changes his posture, makes him feel bigger.

Perhaps you notice what your praise elicits; perhaps you’ve already fathomed his persona that he usually doesn’t dare to reveal this fast. But whatever he conceals with his fans, lies in front of you with an open access.

You make it easy to feel comfortable; he doesn’t need to know you too long to acknowledge this much.

“I graduated not too long ago, too. Three years?”

“Oh… then look at you,” Jungkook compliments, using the moment as an excuse to examine you further; head to toe and back. Your legs are crossed, upper body and face confident, but the position somehow delicate. Hm. “You’re quite awesome, too, don’t you think?”

“I mean— took a while to get here.”

“Right. So what have you been doing during this time since graduation?”

Whatever distraction you have found in the cap seems to break as you silently forage your brain for a response; possibly attempting not to divulge too much. And your answer is accordingly hesitant, though never dubious.

“Saving up? Preparing for life, I guess. And waiting for a good opportunity.”

For what? Do you usually keep your statements in fragments?

He prods, “To do what?”

“Well, to do,” you gesture to the wall in front of you, albeit clearly hinting to the situation, “this. Hoping to change everyone’s lives around here.”

You smile wide, the joke obvious as can be, but Jungkook can’t help but think that you might not be too far off. Unique minds alter brain chemistries; there’s something unforgettable and magnetising about them, and Jungkook steadfastly believes his intuition that you might just be one of them.

For the first time ever, he murmurs your name, delighted by how easily it melts on his tongue. It falls out breathier than he intended to, but when you tilt your head, the intrigue in your pupils inexplicably matches his tone.

He adds to your name, eyelids drooping just a bit, “So… you’ll turn out a long awaited surprise, huh?”

And you, against all expectations, lean in for just a minimal, not too inconsequential moment, hands back in your jacket. It’s a playful, harmless motion as you move back on your heels, then steady yourself again, bodies and faces still far away. You could’ve just as well given him a pat on his shoulder.

But there’s something in the way you look at him, tempted and ominous at the same time. He can’t say what you’re thinking because every feature in your face implies something different.

Even more so confusing what methods for success you came into this company with when you finally say, no pretext or further clarifications, “I really do hope so.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

Everywhere he goes, the lights are bright.

The white walls in the rooms of the company building reflect the sun in the summer and maintain a sense of optimism in the winter. They’re what Jungkook imagines waiting halls before Heaven to look like.

Then the fluorescent vibrancy in his apartment. And the sunlit sky, albeit cold in this winter, giving way to the planetary system’s star through the floating, parting clouds.

Even this modern art museum with its complex design, winding staircases, glass walls and high ceiling. It lets through an abundance of light, unaware of the balance Jungkook usually craves.

Dark and light — a healthy mix.

It’s why he cherishes the comfort of the recording studio so much. Its dim walls and the silence, so unlike the hallways outside of it. Or why he prefers his apartment unlit, often merely allowing the few lava lamps to illuminate his rooms.

But again… it’s only a balance he usually craves.

Today, he doesn’t mind the brilliance.

Because you’re part of it.

Clad in a beige long-sleeved cotton top, slight turtleneck included. It doesn’t fully cover your neck, still revealing a mole similar to his. It’s tucked into your light brown skirt; your legs are covered in sheer tights, crossed. A gentle hand holds the strap of your bag. Light academia at its finest; somewhat soothing, and somewhat radiant.

You look at him with an initially neutral expression, surprised that someone spoke to you, but more relaxed when you realise it’s him.

“Oh,” you voice; the faintest autumn-tinted smile tugs at your lips. “Hey! I, uh…” Your gaze flits to the painting in front of you, then back to him. “Not at all actually. Which… surprising.”

You gesture towards him before you grant him more of your silky voice, asking, “Do you? Come here much?”

Your eyes are indecipherable to him, cheeks dusted in natural make up. All the damn time, you sport this relaxed, unbreakable mask, and he can’t quite guess what you might be thinking about.

It’s so easy with anyone else. You’re like a scene from BBC’s Sherlock, embodying Irene Adler’s mystery.

But maybe your guard can be broken, too.

“Not really,” he admits, “only when pretty people are around.”

A weak attempt, but it makes your eyebrow cock in amusement. He knows you are, because the hint of mischief that scurries over your face resembles his own.

“Ah, and you happen to know when pretty people are around. Or did you follow me here?” you, however, ask.

It’s an obvious inquiry, but weirdly enough, he didn’t expect it. You exhibit the first sign of a proper, humane emotion. Delivering three quick blinks, voice quiet, suspicion swims in your eyes, slightly irritated.

Or even… scared?

You can’t truly be.

So he backtracks, slightly angling his head. He sighs — hiding how much his lungs crave a breath of air. He doesn’t want to scare you off just yet.

“No,” he defends, “of course not. I was just joking.”

“So… I’m not pretty?”

Oh. Oh?

Perhaps he misinterpreted your expression. Perhaps you’re merely a good actress; messing with him as he is with you. The smirk suggests this much, at least.

Perplexed, he holds his breath before letting out a choked laugh; the head tilt and click of his tongue carry a sliver of scolding before he admits, “That’s pretty frustrating, I won’t lie.”

“I’m just kidding, too. It’s a big exhibition. I expected a familiar face here.”

Why is there something so devilish about you?

He can’t say; maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough to join the game, to be just as cocky and see how you react.

Perhaps he’s being selfish and too certain of himself, and in the worst case, he might just be imagining the tension buzzing between you like sparks off an electric fence. But does he have anything to lose, really?

Barely ever.

“Then,” he begins, “is it a good face?”

“All the art around us and you want me to admire you, huh?”

“…The art won’t be mad if you do.”

Jungkook is bold, he’ll admit. He hasn’t always been — he remembers a time spent in the back of classes, preferring to eat lunch alone. Did college tug him out of his shell? Was it senior year?

Then again — did that one kill the timidness in his heart or rather the last shred of humanity?

Maybe his cold matches yours, too. Is that why he feels so drawn to you?

Because you’re as bold as him; you don’t sugarcoat words and thoughts. And Jungkook appreciates the honesty, the ingredient to actual success — even if it’s achingly direct.

Like now.

You uncross your legs; your hips move in an elegant curve, and Jungkook attempts his best to keep his eyes off the arcs of your body. Focuses as you say, “You shouldn’t be flirting with a coworker, Mister Jeon.”

“Wait. I thought we were warming up to each other. Don’t demote me from Jungkook to Mister Jeon now.” You chuckle; that’s something, right? “Besides, I was just conversing. We need to spend all our time together now, so better get along, right?”

Right. Right; of course he’s right.

But… what is that?

It lingers for the faintest of moments, just a glimpse of an unspoken feeling, gone with the next blink. In this crowd of unsuspecting visitors you’re the closest to him physically, but your thoughts are miles and centuries away.

“Maybe you’re right,” you still say, as if whooshing away all unwelcome sentiments, “then I should not… dodge your conversation, right?”

“Sure.”

“Behave, though.”

He’s so confused — but not deep in this enough to question it. So he merely shrugs his shoulder before he responds, “I have been. I can converse, alright.”

“Right.”

“Like… first of all,” he steps closer, raising a hand, gesturing for you to walk on as new admirers of the modern piece approach, “tell me, have we met before? Feels like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

You halt in your steps, but immediately resume to the stroll when a stranger nearly bumps into you. “You’re doing it again.”

He’s honestly not. The aura surrounding you like an ominous fog is omnipresent and eerie, yet… you carry a sense of familiarity. But you’re a presence too distinct to ever forget.

Which doesn’t help his case.

“Yeah,” he still agrees before potentially embarrassing himself, kissing his teeth, “sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done this a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices when the two of you halt in front of another piece. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me that way?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“Then,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only sees a calm ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is gentle, but wrapped in dark mystery. How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly strange things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“And it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must have been a trigger, or a thought about something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A soft hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ohhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibit made me realise how this colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking now. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who earn it.”

Earn it? How?

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack.

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your stare. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like that when you were in his office, or at the meeting. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the mystery away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this open?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Yeah. I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Out of the blue, too. Strokes his ego, though. And then, unexpectedly again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely seen half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps it’s enough for now, sitting in this overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh,” you make, “don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as heck. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for the two of us.”

You laugh — a sweet, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip in his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. It’s always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, two perfectly prepared lattes and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge slice. You thank her with a gentle smile, tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing the dangling earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head, through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance at snail's pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sounds around him come alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You see him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try it.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — then again, maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

But making you smile must be an achievement. If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him relax, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… it’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you lovely. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t quite budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue. “You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest in peace. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. Makes him want you more.

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before. No matter what it is; Jungkook merely understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants to be the colour green for you.

“Ah—” you voice.

“In fact, I’m not supposed to hang out here with you.”

“…How come?”

“I should be with Tae,” he admits. Maybe he’s revealing more to you than he should — maybe he should adjust to your level of secrecy and wait. But this is frustrating him. “He dragged me here, so I could get inspiration from all sides.”

You listen; perhaps not quite loving the idea of seeing him in such a way?

Fuck. Maybe it really was a mistake. No turning back now, though.

“He said artists find motivation in art, too, and I do like to paint, so…” He looks at his cup, still left to be tried from, and then stares up from the cream leaf that the barista formed in his coffee. “I didn’t wanna come here, though. I already have an idea of what I want to do.”

“And…” you start, still not addressing the issue on hand; choosing to talk about something else for now, “he doesn’t like what you’ve come up with?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t know about it yet.”

You take a sip of your coffee, softly smacking your lips once to relish the taste. You’re living proof that subtle gestures can make a mind race. Then you say, “Maybe you should introduce it to him then.”

“I will. Just… mmh, need a better grasp on it.” He throws a nod towards you. “I can’t wait to show you either.”

Another sip of the seething liquid.

If the gentle hint of him being bent on your presence flatters you anyhow — stirs anything in you at all — you don’t let it show. Are you, by chance, used to being swarmed from all sides?

Are his advances kindergarten to you?

You don’t budge as he waits for you to respond, setting the cup back on your saucer before you inquire, “Where is Taehyung, anyway then?”

“Uh, I’m sure he’s going around admiring the art?” Jungkook guesses, head reflexively moving to the side, as if his friend and co-worker could materialise out of thin air. “He enjoys it even more than I do.”

“And you separated from him because…”

Because Jungkook ascended a spiral staircase. Because he turned right and halted in front of the second instead of the first room. Because he recognised the familiar curves and edges, as intriguing as ever, from this far distance.

And told Taehyung to continue without him; that Jungkook was going to explore a different corner of the museum.

He tilts his head; his left eyebrow raises just a twitch, fingertips tapping the hot surface of the coffee cup. And then, charisma gathered in the middle of his pupils, he tells you—

“Because I found you.”

There it is.

The slightest of reactions.

Your eyes widen barely an inch, but he sees it. How your lips part a bit, even though you should’ve expected his answer after the conversations hitherto shared. Hm…

“So you did follow me,” you say.

He can’t say if you’re joking or not. But all of a sudden, he wonders if he’s creeped you out. He opted for flirting so clearly, but… maybe you interpreted it vastly differently.

But he keeps himself relaxed; not faltering now when you aren’t either. Answers, “If you want to call it that. I call it finding you and then sticking with you. You’re interesting, Miss Manager.”

You smile.

Genuinely, thoroughly, wholeheartedly.

The beam reveals more than any word could’ve today — that humanity slumbers somewhere in the crevices of your heart. Your eyes suggest it as much as your stance on art did.

Whatever might have scarred you in life, behind all that ache, you hide a delicate soul.

Green, green, green.

And your cryptic worry, uttered a moment later, doesn’t bring him down from his sense of victory. No. Not now.

“Yeah?” You cross your legs, letting out a breathy sigh. “Then I sincerely hope that doesn’t change.”

[6:43PM] Jeon Jungkook: i’ve been thinking about something. and of you

For a bedroom as sparsely decorated and light-coloured as Jungkook’s, he should be surrounded by a brilliant glow. And usually, he is.

The windows occupy half of the wall, the bedsheets a perfect white; had he texted you a couple hours prior, he would’ve found himself in the gleam of a pale blue late winter sky. But if he’d tapped your name on his device earlier, he would’ve indulged in a whole different mood, too.

Wouldn’t have given into fatigued, delirious fantasies. Daydreaming about the curves of your lips and about the single strands of hair kissing your cheeks. Or the way you love exposing your neck, as if to taunt him.

It’s right there, but you can’t touch it, Jeon.

And…

And the mounds of your chest, slivers of it visible whenever you put on those heaven sent dresses. Their cuts are almost as deep as the ones damaging Jungkook’s brain. And not much for the sake of his sanity, the thirst isn’t quenched just yet.

Crossed legs badly hidden under your see-through tights. The movement of your hips when you walk into his studio, placing yet another gruesome schedule onto his desk. Your scent when you lean into him, pointing to another meeting he barely recalls.

You… you…

If Jungkook hadn’t already cleaned up the sloppy mess previously covering his knuckles, trickling down his thighs, he’d possibly give into the urge to sneak his fingers back to where he craves them to linger.

No, you made that mess.

Of his sheets, of him. And you never needed to be here in the first place.

Jungkook is no fool — unlike many of his friends, he doesn’t deny the way his body winds. He knows what he wants; and right now, he hungers for you. Wants you to eliminate the drought on his tongue; wants you to replace it with some taste instead.

“Fuuuuck.”

The word drags into the emptiness of the room, filling the silence that someone else should be lifting. But you’re not here, and you’re not answering. Not yet, at least. Has it been seconds or minutes?

Too long, is all he knows.

His digits are cleaned thoroughly, but he can’t shake the persisting feeling of sheer, dirty lust as they reach his phone again. Lighting up the screen, then curling inwards in frustration.

He repeats the desperate attempt of manifestation a couple times until he throws the device aside, nearly missing the mid-air vibrations, indicating the long-awaited message. Jungkook’s heart falls out of his ribcage and squeezes his guts; your name elicits far more than it should.

And he feels just a little guilty.

Because he doesn’t deny himself any pleasure — so he knows this isn’t love. This isn’t starving for emotionality. Not for sentiments. What you pull out might be his ugliest, beastliest side; his mind is filled with images of you that he shouldn’t be having.

You’re so respected. So tender and kind. Intriguing, a riddle, but inhabiting secrets probably far darker than his thoughts. So he feels odd about the wanton desire; feels guilty.

But just for a bit. Just a little.

The message you sent back is too humble, too innocent. Sometimes he reckons you’re aware of your power, and sometimes he assumes you think of yourself as… ordinary.

But you’re not. And he wants to show you.

Just one touch, please.

“Fuck, shut up, you creep,” Jungkook whispers to himself, scolding his treacherous mind before he reads again.

[6:52PM] You: Oh? Why would you be thinking about me? Of all people?

Should he wait? You did, too.

Or should he make as crystal clear as he can muster that he’s been waiting for you?

Screw it.

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: what else should I be thinking of?

Your next response is immediate — you’re online. Waiting for him to answer.

Good.

[6:53PM] You: Your music?

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: my music doesn’t talk to me as much as you do these days

He smirks. Keeps the beam plastered to his face until the waiting becomes a little too long. Message on read, you leave the chat room empty of you and full of a nervy Jungkook. He opts out of it the same second, keen on patience before it fades again, bit by bit.

Because then, the thoughts flood in.

Are you rolling your eyes? Throwing the phone into a corner of your couch? Has he fucked up before anything could start?

But it’s been going so well. You talk to him every single day. Ever since the museum, the two of you have been orbiting each other; partly due to work, partly because he’s caught you smiling, too.

Your words are too sickeningly often accompanied by a soft touch of yours against his shoulders; against his arms. Sometimes, you brush his back, his eyes wide awake, the smile timid yet crushingly losing against your confident gaze.

All this must mean something.

“Nah. Fuck it,” he mutters again, sighing over his own constant use of curses. “Come back.”

[6:55PM] Jeon Jungkook: actually… I did come up with one tune. It’s just a skeleton of a song tbh, but I need a sounding board.

It takes another one minute for you to come back, and Jungkook angles his legs, relying on the movements of his body to ease the impatience. But then—

[6:56PM] You: Oh, and? [6:56PM] You: Sorry, I had to step away for a sec

Sigh of relief. Even though embarrassment annoyingly adds itself to the mix, an uninvited guest.

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: …do you wanna come to the studio?

[6:57PM] You: Right now? It’s like… [6:57PM] You: 7pm

Unconsciously, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, unbothered to the bone, just craving, craving, craving…

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: a true artist never rests. [6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: and I’d rather die than stop hustling for my passion

As the next message appears at the bottom of the screen, Jungkook can’t help but bite into his lower lip with a certain pride. He nods as if he caught his prey, trapping it between his fangs.

[6:58PM] You: 😂LOL. now that, I admire, mister Jeon :) [6:58PM] You: I’ll finish my wine and be on my way

Oh.

Are you tipsy? Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but the emoji seems so unlike you; yet, you somehow manage to capture the core of what and who you are in the rest of the message. Six coherent words. That’s all it takes.

Goddamn.

You’re so thoroughly you.

[6:59PM] Jeon Jungkook: wait. really?

And that’s it. You disappear.

Perhaps you’re joking; perhaps you’re messing with him. The sun has already set; and he doesn’t think he’s ever stayed with you much longer than dusk before.

If he met you in the evening, or on other nights, would you make more sense than you usually do? Are you the type to unravel when the world quiets down? Or the one to blend with the darkness more, drawing back further?

If there’s pure truth in what you just said, devoid of all mockery you could revert to… he might find out. And it seems you’re in the right mood today, earnest with your intentions when he feels his phone vibrate against his thick thigh again, making him flinch.

[7:11PM] You: Yes? I’m already dressed. Get your ass up

Oh shit.

Despite your order, his limbs still shut down. His muscles and bones melt into the bed, a fleeting image of your sly smirk crossing his mind and an assured voice surrounding his eardrums.

And if he didn’t overthink each of your movements; didn’t fantasise about the possible rise and fall of your voice, he would’ve discarded his phone and gotten dressed a lot earlier.

How embarrassing.

The fact that his mind doesn’t want to categorise this as a crush, no matter how much he asks. That his body responds to you like that, superficial and intrigued.

Embarrassing. He should focus on more important things.

Yet, he can’t be bothered with the intruding sentiment, shame shoved aside and trampled under his feet as his car turns into a parking lot, perfectly in front of the building’s entrance. Your form is crystal clear in the dark; not even the shadows and lack of light can hide your silhouette.

The radar sensor beeps when he creeps too close to the hood of the car behind him, and he mumbles a curse, averting his eyes from your unmoving self to focus on proper parking. Letting the roaring engine die.

Your shoulders are slightly raised when he approaches you at the door. One hand is stuffed in the pocket of your thin, baby pink coat, the other curled into a fist, possibly resisting the urge to enter the building and combat the cold.

You could’ve waited inside, too. Unless…

Maybe you’re excited to see him, too.

You smile, lips reaching far up; he tries his hardest to believe he’s right. Takes the gesture as a good omen, and the hair pulled up in a loose bun as a sign of hurry. You look domestic, comfortable in your skin, no matter who’s around.

But somewhere between the comfort and the softness, there’s that everlingering intrigue, too. And… some timidness. Showing in the crossed legs his eyes drift over, up to the short skirt barely visible underneath the coat.

And your face… so natural. More than usual. Mascara only? He doesn’t know.

All he knows is that he needs to say something.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you throw back, tilting your head in tease, “where were you? Took you long enough to get here.”

He steps closer; fiddling with his jacket’s pocket, fishing for the keys. And his proximity changes something about you so subtly, a miniscule movement. Hand digging deeper into your coat.

You’re on guard for some reason. And he can’t help but admit he’s on guard with you, too, albeit in a less physical and more mental way. The unfathomable, dichotomous sensation of wanting you near, wanting you far is killing him.

What are you hiding?

If he could, he’d speak it out loud.

“I had to freshen up,” he finally responds, “I honestly didn’t expect you to say yes.”

Your body might be in protection mode, but your voice is as composed, even somewhat amused, as always, “Well.” You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why. But I’m here now, and honestly… a little cold?” Nodding towards the door, “Should we go inside?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He sniffles, fishing for the chip to unlock the door. For an ephemeral second right before walking inside, your breath lingers incredibly close to his own, grazing his lip ring. “Don’t forget to dress warm this season.”

Near enough for his fingers to succumb to the impulse and sidle to you, skimming your thigh so featherlightly. He thinks he hears the sharp inhale you suck in. His skin tickles, the shiver icy on his body. He watches you smirk, lowering your head; his fingertips insist on the vicinity just for the tiniest seconds before he says,

“Okay. Let's go inside before you catch a cold, silly.”

But the bitter frost permeates the hallways of the company in the same ruthless manner. Perhaps somebody’s still lingering around in the daunting dark. Revising steps in the mirrored practice rooms or hovering above lyrics and tunes, neck bent and back tired.

But the building isn’t heated; and it shows in your rather quick steps, an arm wrapped around your chest to rub the layers above your arm. The guarded demeanour doesn’t match your usual confidence; aside from the hollow hallways, it seems that you’re scared of more than just the cold.

He doesn’t point it out. And he doesn’t stare for too long.

If he did, you might realise.

Instead, he saunters to the elevator with you in tow, delighted about the light that never changes in the small rectangular space. You let your hand drop to your purse, lazily toying with its zip, and turn your head to observe the closing doors.

And Jungkook observes you.

The glow of your cheeks in the bright beam, half of your face devoid of the hair tucked behind your ear. As you breathe in, your lips split a fraction, and their gentle, soft curves mesmerise him for a moment too long.

It’s difficult and cruel, being around you. Haunting, agonising, aggravating.

And when your eyes align with his again, sparkling a little in line with your tender smile, Jungkook realises that he’s been holding his breath. Because it escapes between the seam of his mouth in a sudden push, his knees nearly buckling.

He resists the urge to bite into his fist, instead disguising his thoughts when he covers his mouth, teeth digging into his plump, lower lips.

“So,” he quickly adds, leaving no space for you to question his eccentricity, but you initiate another convo in the same tiny second, “It’s…”

You pause, withholding your statement in order to listen to his. But he shakes his head, lifting a hand to sign for you to continue. So you say, “It’s a little scary here at night.”

Okay. Not that tough of a topic.

“Right?” he confirms. “I always imagine getting here and hearing a hum that’s not really there.”

“Uh…” You blink in disbelief, lifting your eyebrows, but when he shrugs your confusion away, your hesitation marker turns into a chuckle. “Why the hell would you say that?”

“It’s just something I imagine. It’s terrifying, but my mind goes places, and I never ask it to.”

“Well, it’s a mean thing of your mind to do.” The ding of the elevator distracts you, and when you step out, your thoughts remain at an afar spot. Kept inside your pretty little head until you whisper, “And? Have you ever heard it, then?”

“Hm? The hum?” You nod, and he suppresses the snicker your curious, cocked eyebrow nearly elicits. “No. Only myself. Humming helps me control my breathing, so I do it to practise.”

“Weird. It’s so different from how I’d imagine you.”

Huh. Seems he’s not the only one sketching your entire being to keep himself awake at night.

“How would you?” he asks.

“As a rockstar?”

“Oh?” That’s new. “As a future RnB slash pop sensation I find this officially peculiar. Why a rockstar?”

You cock an eyebrow; either digesting the confident prophecy or pondering his question. The crooked smile matches his own signature smirk a little, and you puff out a breath before your sombre yet sparkling eyes wander an inch further down, right to his mouth.

Your eyelashes are endless, on their way to brush those delicate apples of your cheeks — in reality, it’s an impossible fantasy written in novels and poems, but it’s exactly how it looks. Exactly how much your curious gaze drops.

Only, the tingling sensation in his chest soon subsides, freeing a path to the realisation that he’s yet again misunderstanding. Because you’re not drawn by his lips, but rather considering a response.

He sighs in subtle disappointment when you point to the shiny metal encircling his lower lip, telling him, “Gotta be the piercing.”

“Ah. Ahhh. Well. First off, this is a very stereotypical assumption.” You shrug your shoulders in amusement, watching him cram for his chip until he halts in front of his studio, keeping you in his vision. “And secondly.”

The lock of the door clicks as he swipes the chip across the reader, defined knuckles paling a bit when he pushes the handle down. He raises his chin by a fraction, pulling out the most-assured smile, and asks, “Do you like it?”

And you, composed as ever, respond, “It suits you. I always wonder how comfortable these are, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, like. Do they have a metal taste? Do you ever get hyper aware of them and then get annoyed and want them off? Are they… cold?”

He laughs. There’s something endearing about how your voice quietens further the more your curiosity grows. You’re not quite looking at him, pupils focused on a random spot, hands expressive as you vocalise your thoughts.

“Let’s see,” he mutters, jacket thrown over a chair, “sometimes and, again, sometimes. It feels a bit cold right now because it’s cold outside. I mean…”

He rubs the chill off his tattooed arm, fingers diving under the short sleeves of his white, oversized t-shirt. Attempts never faltering, he leans into you in intrigue, parting his lips before running his tongue over the jewellery.

“Do you just. Wanna touch it and find out for yourself?”

You blink, frozen in place.

The room isn’t too spacious; Jungkook will get his very own studio, name tag and all once he reaches a clear peak. For once, he’s glad about the crowded room, girded by a guitar on the wall, chairs standing side by side, a little couch leaning against the back of the wall.

As ever, he can’t decipher your mood; as ever, you’re still quick to answer, “I… no. It’s okay.”

Why don’t you want him?

Goddamn it.

“Okay,” he simply utters, shrugging his vexation away. “Let’s get started then.”

The excitement in his tone dips, seemingly aloof, but as he walks into the dark square of silence, reaching for the headphones he placed right here mere hours ago, wordless curses dangle off the tip of his tongue.

He makes sure you don’t see the clench of his jaw or the fast and steady fall of his ego, but you’re shoving back the chair and adjusting anyway. Crossing tight-clad legs as you place your coat on your lap, throwing your mane to one side to free that damned neck.

It must be on purpose.

He waits for you to settle, the headphones on the table in front of you enveloping your head. They look way too big on you, and Jungkook can’t decide whether to tut at his anguish or swoon at your stellar being.

Jungkook uses his headphones to communicate through the glass, raising a thumb to ask, “Ready?” You nod, matching his gestures with your own. “Be honest, how professional do I look?”

Carding the fine hair back, he pushes a hand into the pocket of his pants, taking a stand in front of the boom microphone. He mimes a typical grimace of an immersed artist, letting out an immediate, sweet chuckle that you chime in joyfully.

You lean in, long earrings brushing your jaw, pressing down the button for the talkback mic to assure through the intercom, “You look like a born star.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully clicking his tongue, “Ahhh, that’s a nice yet basic thing to say, but. I’ll take it.”

“Why did you go in there anyway? Weren’t you just going to show me a song?”

“Adlibs, baby. I’m still missing those.” He adjusts the headphones again, clearing his throat, almost in position. “But I didn’t warm up my voice, so I’ll need to re-record them anyway.”

“And still you’re straining your voice because…?”

“We’re here to impress you, so let me.”

Your finger lifts off the button, but the movement of your lips suggests to him undoubtedly what your teasing self might be mumbling.

Oh damn. Sorry then, boss.

You raise your hands in defeat until you detect his beguiled smile, raising your eyebrows in a clear question that he answers with two words; a simple title of a song, not as glorious as the tune itself but hopefully as memorable.

Eyes scurrying across the now opened laptop screen, you search for the instrumental until you stumble upon it. 3:54 minutes of what Jungkook prays to be blasted everywhere in a couple week’s time before the big concert, chiming in his ears.

The initial guitar riff drowns the room in a mixture of intriguing anticipation and uncurbed sentiments immediately. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your face, attempting to decode a reaction. And when you notice, hands on the headphones, you nod approvingly.

Most of his vocals are already recorded to perfection; a silky voice laments about a lost time with purity. Jungkook largely listens in, searching for wonky bits or moments to be re-tackled. Of course, he will need to discuss the details with Taehyung tomorrow, but whenever the passion burns the hottest, he can’t help but add an adlib here and there.

As he sings, his eyes reflexively close, and for a couple dozen seconds, the melodic current pulls him towards a bigger ocean; the sense of freedom and possibility is astonishing. There’s a certain ardour he feels towards music that nothing will ever be able to elicit.

Do you feel the same?

As somebody spending day in, day out surrounded by musicians, does that phenomenon make your heart surge, too?

Maybe.

When he looks at you again, it’s at least something fervent he detects in your gaze. A bit like the longing he feels. Intense fondness, or perhaps, even zoning out — until you’re barely blinking anymore.

Your features relax a little more as the song proceeds, bit by bit, the calmest when the ending notes arrive. Jungkook observes you; freezes at his spot. The change from the built-up chorus to the suddenly calm ending, instruments dying, are as forgotten as the last touches… because you, behind the glass, are much more interesting.

Just staring. Looking at the screen, its brightness reflecting in your pupils. When you blink again, most of the preceding smile is gone, something indecipherable in your eyes.

He doesn’t know whether you actually enjoyed the entire thing or became consumed by memories he doesn’t know of. Some the song might have drawn out but shouldn’t have. There’s… a past in your stare.

He knows because much like the vast existing humanity, he’s been tending to faraway memories for years, too.

And he wants to know about yours.

Gently, Jungkook grasps the headphones covering his ears, the mane victim to the impact before his fingers fix it again. He frees his eyes off his strands, never directing them away from you, and when he opens the door to the small room you drifted off in, you look up.

Your emerging smile is unsuspecting and polite as always, and you deliver a tilt of your head. Jungkook could sign the previous oddness off as just this, or a sinking into arts just as he does sometimes.

But what’s enough is enough; brushing questions off his mind has become tedious.

So he rolls back the second chair next to you to take a seat, placing his arm on the one of the furniture before folding his fingers; leaning in, asking, “You okay?”

You react with a soft nod, a tender hum, “Yeah! I was listening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“You zoned out.”

“Which is a good thing, I promise.”

Jungkook looks for a moment. Waits for you to break or admit that the truth you display might not be as pure as you think; waits for his instinct to wind up correct.

But when you do nothing of that sort, eyes a resolute and solid statement, he sighs. Tongues at the lip ring for a moment before he clears his throat and questions, “Good thing, yeah? What else do you think?”

“It… goes deep,” you confess, an impressed declaration in your expressions, “what are you talking about in that one? I mean, I know, but… it sounds so personal.”

“More or less? I’ve spent most of the last few years dedicating myself to this job. The training, the late night sessions, the failure and lost time. I wanted to depict those hardships.” He nods, emphasising his points. “I want this song to help me look back one day…”

He shrugs his shoulders, thumbs slowly circling around each other, “And comfort my older self that despite the hectic life, things are okay.”

“I see.”

Your tone is neutral, but your chest rises and falls a little too slowly. Your sorrow is quiet. He closes the distance further, nudging your arm, “Hey. Did you not like it?”

“I did,” you defend, honesty and reassurance in your voice, “I do. You have an amazing voice, come on, what’s not to like. And the sound is incredible. Should you manage to release it, it will be celebrated a lot.”

“I will manage to release it,” he says with furrowed eyebrows, resisting the urge to touch your elbow again, but settling on simply calling your name instead, “you’re part of my team. Let’s be optimistic.”

“I am. Teamwork makes the dream work. Etcetera.”

“Right,” Jungkook breathes, word close to a yawn. He throws his body back in the cushioned chair, manspreading as much as the space allows; stretches his arms until his muscles crack. “Ahhh… I really want this to be good.”

His gaze falls to the darkening laptop, soon giving way to pitch darkness, potentially to some screensaver. The title of the song remains still in the opened audio file, and he smacks his lips, blinking only when you voice an approving, “Mhmmm.”

His head darts to you the moment you deliver a subtle nod towards the computer, deducting, “You really strive to be big.”

Well, yeah. That’s been the plan. Always, always.

“Shouldn’t I?” he argues. “It’s a dream.”

“It’s good to have dreams.”

“That’s right. Mine is to… Stand on a bigger stage. I think I’ve reached a solid group, but I think if I keep working hard and with the right team, I can make it?”

“This determined, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds with a hint of obvious self-evidence, slight confusion shadowing his mind — have you never wanted something so badly? “The audience’s eyes glued to me. Don’t you have a dream?”

Another deep inhale of air, chest working hard, as if you’re breathing out fatigue. He prepares for another vague answer that might leave him guessing; and albeit clearly seeing the usual curtain veiling your true thoughts, what you say next makes his ears perk up.

“Honestly. I’ll allow dreams again once I’ve moved on. That’s all I want.”

What?

Did you actually want to say that? Was it on purpose? A slip of the tongue?

Because it seems so unlike you. Reveals too much. He doesn’t think you’ve exposed your innermost thoughts like this before, even if still not quite transparent.

“…From what?” The previously relinquished distance dies when he inches closer again, digits sneaking close to your knee. A fingertip floats over your tights. “Hey. Is something bothering you?”

“Ugh,” you say; the sliver of sadness seamlessly transitions into an expression of nonchalance when you wave your concerns off so quickly. “Young adult stuff.”

Nevertheless, you speak on. The biggest development in this friendship between the two of you yet. “I once had a friend that moved away. We were pretty close, and now she’s far away. Which sucks.”

“I’m sorry.”

That’s it.

Jungkook offers to listen, but he doesn’t necessarily deem himself the most expressive guy when it comes to emotions like these; even if he so deeply wishes to read your thoughts. Music is different; speaking to an audience is, too. Articulating gratitude isn’t as difficult as extinguishing someone else’s grief.

And while not quite confronted with anguish, he houses demons that still haunt his nights; he can barely obliterate them.

Maybe he doesn’t need to.

Maybe he can comfort you in the only way he’s ever known. The stupid, selfish way; offering relief and distraction in the most sinful manner.

“Listen…” Jungkook starts, but in all honesty — there isn’t much to say.

Only to crave. To look.

At the curve of your lips. The distance between them. The bare wrist needing to be held, tired eyes wanting to replace the sorrow with something else.

Is he an asshole for wanting to annihilate your heavy breaths of dejection and replace them with sighs of his name instead?

He doesn’t know. He barely hears his thoughts. Only the blood rushing to his ears, and then away from his head, down his body.

Fuck.

The levitating finger drops an inch; you gasp almost inaudibly when the tip touches your knee, skin separated by the tights only. Jungkook loves fashion choices like these, but hates the hurdle right now.

His warm palm opens, placing right above your knee, approaching the meat of your thigh. He knows you’re not breathing because he can’t hear the exhales; and when his eyes, hooded and possibly insane, flit up to you, he recognises the change in your pupils.

You gulp; and then finally push out some air again. Your hand moves to his inked wrist, touching lightly, unsure what to do. But when you don’t resist, his other arm lifts, touch moving to your face, holding it.

The world spins, moving like an earthquake as his mouth draws nearer. You let out a miniscule sound that punches him in the guts; sweet and pure.

He wants to shatter and wreck you so bad; wants you to feel the same poison you’ve fed him. Irresistible, deadly.

But just as the metal of his jewellery grazes your lips, the softness and warmth radiating towards him, your breath shakes. Your face budges enough for his upper lip to feel a brush against yours, but that’s all he gets.

Because you retreat without giving in. And he doesn’t know why.

He clenches his jaw. God fucking hell. What’s your problem?

The sense of failure overwhelms him. Failure. Failure.

That’s not the term his mind should conjure. He knows the moral compass hides somewhere in his dark heart; he knows. Yet, he can never give into it. Is he a bad person? He doesn’t know.

Control was never his domain, after all.

But he keeps those intrusive thoughts inside, intending to not scare you off more than he already might have. So he accepts the dodging of the kiss, moving back, immediately leaving you safe from his touch.

And then, he says, “Uhm— I’m sorry.”

You don’t answer, still catching your breath, back to the heavy sighs that he was going to help shove back. Once again, he tries, “Honestly, I apologise, I just…”

“No, no. Please, don’t be sorry,” you reassure, slightly touching his shoulder. A wave of relief washes over him. “I’m just. Not in the right mindset for it yet. But I’m flattered, really.”

“Okay.” He nods. His eyes drop to his fingers; he still feels your heat on his skin, basks in it for a moment. But when the awkward silence lingers, he suggests, “Then. Let’s call it a night and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. I’m definitely getting tired.”

“Me too.”

Jungkook rises from his seat, still unable to wrap his head around what happens — or almost happened. Maybe another time. Grabbing your coat from behind you, he helps you into it, avoiding your eyes, trying not to showcase his frustration.

Uncertain what to say, he reverts back to small talk, stating, “Thanks for still coming so late. You really do like the song, yeah?”

“Jungkook… it’s honestly very good.”

You smile; there’s something about your honesty. About the way you say his name. And how hopeful you truly seem for him. How much you seem to mean it when you say—

“If there’s anyone who can manage to wrap the world around their finger, it’ll be you, Jungkook.”

“Alright. I think I have an answer to your question now.”

You down the sip of red wine with a delicate smack of your lips, blinking at the change in topic. The evening has followed a pleasant pace so far, conversations well balanced; even though you still carry a sense of caution that Jungkook sees no reason behind.

Perhaps it’s the fact that after weeks of subtle, flirty undertones and advancing attempts you’ve taken the seat on his couch as he’s imagined for so long now. Maybe he still exudes something that screams for caution; maybe that’s just who you are.

Jungkook, for one, is just glad to receive any kind of recognition from you. But he’d be a fool to not insert all his effort into tonight, from the food to the type of drinks and conversations. He knows where he needs to be and he wants you to want it, too.

“What question?” you ask.

It’s just.

Despite the lightness with which you carry your talks, some of your movements feel off, detached from your body. Not quite matching the grace your face portrays; just that one hint. The one hiding in your fingers, tapping the dark screen of the phone resting on your thigh.

As if you’re waiting for a call or something to happen that Jungkook isn’t aware of. Who knows. Nothing has happened in the last hour, so this might be an unconscious gesture reasoned in nothing but an absent or distracted mind.

Yeah.

You’re probably not even aware of it and he’s just overthinking it.

He takes a breath, inhaling the aroma of the almost finished wine, “What I’d do if I could spend a day in a virtual reality.”

“Wait, does the Wembley Stadium doesn’t count anymore?”

Jungkook smirks, dismissing his own prior answer with a click of his tongue. “C’mon. Does it really? You can ask literally any artist ever and that’s what they’ll say.”

You ponder his response, pursing your lips in thought, and then shrug one shoulder. Nodding along, you acknowledge, “Right. So what is it then?”

“I’d just.” He sucks air through his teeth sharply, leaning back with a signature smack of his lips. “Get into a reality in which this damn song is already finished and mixed and ready to be released.”

This song referring to the concoction of sounds he showed you earlier, yet to be concretised and burnished to what he truly envisions. It’s the only song left that shackles him to the studio; at the upcoming concert, he’ll just sing the demo version as a sneak peak if needed. What a source of stress.

But you don’t see it as much of a struggle; you’ve told him a dozen times that hard work justifies a slip-up. That the progress on his album balances out the artist’s block.

Possibly why you laugh his worry off without mocking it, merely throwing back, “I’m disappointed.”

Oh?

“Why?”

“Just because — the Wembley answer was better.”

Unexpected and sudden — much like the snicker you elicit, throwing his head back just a little. Concurring, he sighs, “Okay, okay. What about you then?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me what you’d do.”

“You didn’t ask,” you remind him, already slurring your speech a bit, though still remaining a stable and solid stance, “dunno. You want the sappy or the basic answer?”

“Is the sappy one a tear-jerker? Sounds like it.”

“For sure.”

“Then the basic one. Don’t dig being sad.”

“Thought so,” you answer, and Jungkook holds back from prodding again this time, despite wondering what image he gets across, “alright. I’d do things I’m unsure of in real life. Like bungee jumping.”

“Oh? Kinda did not expect this.”

“No?”

“Just having a hard time imagining somebody as calm as you jumping off a building. Or yelling.”

You roll your eyes. “Anyway. I’d love to go, but I’m too scared of the risks. Like, rope stuff. Don’t want to be jumping for the last time.”

“Okay, yeah, but,” Jungkook starts, hesitating, “I mean, you could say that about anything. You leave your apartment and get hit by a car and then you’d be going out for the last time.”

You begin shaking your head mid-sentence, already drawing a breath, ready to disagree. Then, “That’s a bad comparison. These things are a once in a lifetime experience.”

“I’m just saying! Why hold back from things that excite you.”

“…Maybe you’re right.”

Jungkook’s proud nod and hum are reciprocated with a soft smile, fleeting when you roll your eyes back to your phone briefly. Absent-mindedly, you drag a fingertip across the device’s side as Jungkook follows your movements.

Yet, unsure what you might be harbouring in this pretty head of yours, he doesn’t ponder but asks, “What was the sappy thing?”

It’s as if you live multiple lives, hiding them in your innermost parts; because once he finishes his question, your sparkle returns, and you smirk a little, suddenly leaning forward.

Wordlessly, you fish a tissue out of the square, wooden box, puzzling him for a second until he understands right before you clarify, “For the upcoming tears.”

His titter is immediate, a reflex. You might be relaxed as a calm river, but your humour does shine through among your other million traits. He shakes his head in rejection, smile still plastered to his lips, and watches you lean back again, clearing your throat.

“Mhh, I’d say,” you muse, “I’d try to get into a simulation of Heaven. Try to meet those I miss.”

“Oh… damn.”

“Yeah.”

“…I don’t know what to say.”

But despite the dumbstruck silence, his mind does conjure prompt associations. Like when the two of you sat in his studio just two weeks ago, you engrossed in his music yet somehow dissociated from reality.

You spoke about lost and faraway people back then, too. And he didn’t ask then, either.

In the depths of his mind, he wants to believe that you’re trying to lead him somewhere, fishing for his hand but never quite reaching it. Drawing back right before pleading for help; or perhaps wanting to make him understand a thought he can’t fathom in the way you form it.

The pattern is repetitive, loud — but he knows you’ll retract the moment he does lean into you, offering his ear to your worries and thoughts.

He can’t win.

“That’s okay,” you say, making up for his lack of proper empathy, and that’s where you leave it. Not hesitating, not indicating another hint to lead to your mind.

Yet, he clears his throat quietly, licking drying lips, and asks in attempt to grip the truth, your whatever-truth, “And, who’d be there? Do you want to talk about that?”

“Mmmmh,” you hum, pondering, before you treat him with the same disappointment he’s suffered throughout the last weeks, “no. I think I’m good.”

Unbelievable, and truthfully, frustrating.

Are you playing this side of yours? Is it an act? Are two sides of you fighting within you?

“Okay,” he simply responds, clearly agitated but unsure whether you notice. You’re looking at your phone again. He sighs. “And… Do you believe in that stuff? Heaven, Hell, stuff like that.”

You shrug a bare shoulder. “Dunno. I like to think there’s something, but then again I don’t.”

“How so?”

“The way I see it, it’s kinda simple,” you explain matter-of-factly, “some people are good enough to deserve a place in Heaven once they’re gone. And some people are terrible enough to burn for eternity.”

Coming from your sweet mouth, uttered in an equally soft tone, the sentence feels jarring. Jungkook has had these thoughts before; he’d be a hypocrite to judge you for yours, recalling moments when he wondered where he’s destined to land once he’s left this realm.

And somehow, it was never the prettier option.

Still, he utters, disguising his own past pondering, “Wow. That’s dark.”

“It’s true. There’s some serious crime in the world.”

Agreed. Perhaps, compared to the extreme sins, he can be forgiven. Right? Maybe…

“Yeah,” Jungkook accords, “then, why did you say that sometimes you don’t like believing in it?”

“I mean, if there’s actually something like Hell, and I happen to fuck up throughout life… I don’t wanna end up there.”

It’s like you’re mirroring his thoughts.

Even if he never quite thought about it to such an extent. Even though his idea of the afterlife built on what he’s already done, and not what he’s still going to do.

But your words give a subtle hope that redemption is possible. Who knows. Who really knows.

Perhaps it’s easiest to stray away from these thoughts and focus on you at this very moment. Even if it’s you triggering innermost fears; he doesn’t quite have a clue how you do it.

No matter. He’ll focus on you. Altruism might be the first step to vindication. Karma points. Karma points.

“Valid,” he says kindly, “can’t imagine you fucking up, though.”

“How would you know?”

“The company grapevine whispered a lil something about you.”

“Ahhh—”

“Good things! Other than that, I just think. Don’t know.” A small gap, well-hidden so far, grows in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the very front of his mind. Before he’s thought it through, he blurts, “I’ll be honest with you.”

Your ears perk up, eyes suddenly wide.

What was that?

Okay. Whatever. Can’t stop his speech now, “Uhm, I’ll be honest and say that I’m not the best person I know. Like, I’m aware of that. It’s why sometimes, I don’t really understand how people can be as genuine as you.”

…Has he said too much? Or not enough? Because he could swear your face deflates, expression dimming, as if you expected something else.

And all you say is, “I understand.”

A flicker of slight panic creeps into his overthinking head, not usually a trademark of his personality. But you look dispirited, even if just for a second. He tries further.

“And from what I’ve seen, you go through life gently. The way you do anything is how you do everything, right?”

“Hmmm,” you voice again, pupils hidden until you look up. And when you do, he breathes a sigh of relief; deep and obvious, and he doesn’t care if you notice. Smiling sweetly, you tell him, “You said that really well.”

The way you say it is riddled with woe, but within a second, your eyebrows relax, mouth forming an authentic grin. Displaying real emotions suits you better than the mask of the frigid ice queen you keep plastered to your face; you look different right now.

Vulnerable.

And it makes him want you more.

Does it have something to do with the warm light he chose for this room? No. It doesn’t shine brightly enough to really illuminate your face that much. With the intensity lowered beforehand, some of your features hide in the dark when you lower your head a little.

And it’s not the decent amount of alcohol the two of you slurped.

It’s the usual, mysterious shimmer in your eyes, begging to take off more of your mental layers. The fragility behind the pretence of invincible strength. No doubt, you’re still a textbook definition of a femme fatale.

Still, there’s some sweet urge to surrender, visible in your stance. A fragrance luring him in. Warm skin close to his; calling for his fingers.

And he’s at your beck and call, ready and motivated; giving into your wanting eyes — or is that his own desire he’s confusing? — and leaning in. A little more with each tiny moment, advancing until the tips of your noses meet.

Your warmth consumes him; your breathing quickens, resulting in fitful exhales that he takes in with vigour, much drowning in his own head until you gasp and he realises—

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not yet retracting. His hand touches your knee, carefully but with intention. Waiting, he asks, “Is that okay for you?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Your answer takes a seat on his ego and weighs it down. Harsh, sudden, perhaps not unexpected but definitely breaking a string of patience within him. But consent is consent; he understands. He’s grown now.

Yet…

“Fuck,” he whispers under a faint sigh, dejected and confused.

And you hear it. Bambi-eyed, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He’d lie if he suppressed the disappointment. Working towards you for weeks was supposed to end in realising his fantasies into a palpable, actual feeling, with a side achievement of a deeper connection.

You don’t seem to want to provide it; he understands, but the agitation courses through him like a fire burning up a forest. The trees are his nerves; alight with different emotions. You’re fumbling with the soft cotton of your winter dress, and he averts his eyes.

Shutting them for a moment, he ponders his options; does he continue the awkward conversation? Or perhaps, ask you for your opinion straightforwardly? Maybe, after all this while, it wouldn’t be so stupid to swap a penny for your thoughts.

And his mouth opens, but it seems you’re faster. Crushing his questions and uncertainties when he hears you gulp, witness to another change of mind as your knee shifts forward. His eyes open rapidly, and when he looks at you again, you’ve moved closer.

Your leg touches his thigh; your eyelids half fallen, lips an inch apart and fingers hesitating, yet advancing towards him. Hope sparks and sparkles in him anew, and he suppresses the cheeky, triumphant smile.

He feels like an asshole. Oh, he feels so selfish — but he can’t be the only one. He cannot possibly be the first or last to give into deepest desires out of self-interest.

Carefully, he matches your pace, moving into your direction much like you are drawing into his. His hand lifts to your arm, and you suck in a breath as he touches your skin, your chest rising and falling deeply.

And his eyes observe. The motion drives him crazy. He wants to pilot his touch to this spot, wrap his palm around your mounds, desperate to feel your nipples perk up under his skin, your mouth fall wider.

Should he? Maybe, maybe—

Not yet.

Instead, he draws an invisible line with his fingertips, up your arm and to your shoulders until he reaches your neck. The sound you let out is so tiny he barely hears it, and you tilt your head to the other side, giving him free reign over your skin.

A spark lights up under his finger, as if he’s touched a defective bulb. He wonders if you feel the same flame when he charges for your jawline, tracing it for a moment before he moves to your seething hot cheek.

You’re burning up.

So he asks in a quiet, gravelly voice, somehow much lower than usual, “Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows are furrowed, and he starts to worry again; but maybe that’s just the same tension unleashing that he’s felt, too. The temptation runs deep; he could scream it out of his lungs and it wouldn’t be enough.

Relieved as you nod, he mimics the movement, whispering an, “Okay,” before he then dips forward, exhaling close to your neck hotly and… leaves a small kiss right there. He doesn’t know about you, but if you did that to him, he’d possibly faint.

One more kiss, and suddenly, your hand is on his knee. His head spins. Must be the alcohol. Must be you.

And you’re probably in no better state, judging the hot cheeks and the slight sway of your body. Must be the wine. Must be him.

And when his lips graze your jaw, your fingers curl in, clawing onto his knee, and his inner voice celebrates, “Jackpot.”

But not really. He’s going with the flow, exploring your preferences, but this needs to be the night of your life. His mind and ego want you to perceive it that way. So what should he do? What do you like?

Are you one to push him into the bed, holding his shoulders down? Straddling him keenly, pouncing on him, eyes rolled back?

Or do you give away all the power you usually emanate; hands bound with a tie, legs struggling between a rope, screams muffled under a gag? Do you wind and go crazy when somebody has their way with you, edging and then overstimulating, refusing a touch and then slapping your ass wound…

Should he let your siren eyes tempt him into submission or will you be the one drilled into his mattress with a hand around your neck and a trail of black mixed with tears under your eyes?

He doesn’t know. Because you’ve disguised all of you; hidden your mind behind a mask of absolute neutrality, hard to decipher. He can usually read women so easily. They lick their lower lips when they want him under them, and quiver when vice versa.

He’d oblige to either for you. So what does it matter in the end, anyway?

No, it doesn’t.

His tongue that lashes out, however, does matter. Tasting your skin as it drags over your chin and then to your mouth. Insane when he reaches your lower lip and you sigh, then back to your neck, blowing, teasing, still not kissing you… touching your thigh, moving inwards…

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

And this time, while still a little quiet, you finally say, “More. You can do more.”

“Yeah?”

You nod as if starved, relieved when his hands leave your leg and venture further in. It’s hidden under your dress, but somehow, not seeing your full glory just yet, but observing your reactions to his movements, stirs his thoughts. If any were left, that is.

The touch to your panties is light, tender as he reaches the hem, driving a finger underneath it in exploration. You don’t say much, but he sees the zeal in your eyes, murmuring a little, “Mhm…”

And when he finally presses against the fabric slowly dampening, lightly as he rolls his digits right where your skin so incredibly softens… you moan. You moan.

It doesn’t sound the way he imagined. But it kind of does. He doesn’t remember what he imagined — doesn’t know much at all. Just that he wanted this sound to echo within his walls. For him to be the one to drag it out. Not for anybody else, but him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Okay. What if he does… this…

Thought so.

Sometimes, human beings have a fantasy unmatched, don’t they? Able to form and reform expressions on people they know that they have never seen. For example, he can imagine what you look like when you cry. Or when you’re mad. Or…

He knew you’d press your lips together, along with your eyebrows, muffling your sound once he sought out your clit and pressed against it. And not because he’s seen other women contort their faces like this; no… it’s an entirely new sensation with you.

You don’t compare to anyone. Nobody compares to you. Nobody, ever.

Sick of watching the invisible movement under your dress, he lets his eyes wander to yours, and you notice, do as he does. Eyes hooded, staring at him as if drunk — possibly, probably drunk.

Just once, he gapes down again, trying to adjust without crushing your knees with his. Comes closer. Then looks back at you. Absolutely astonished by the coloured lips drying up. Seeing your tongue peak behind your upper teeth, pushing against them.

Then you’re blinking, several times, not rapidly, but enough to indicate that you’re losing yourself, too. And then there’s some melancholy behind your gaze; he can’t say where it derives from… you seem to be coming out of a room that you kept dark for long enough.

He can’t say whether he’s further dimming the light in that room or lightening it up — and as he advances, gauging your reactions, he inwardly hopes it’s the latter.

So inwardly. So desperately.

Patience only persists for a moment; Jungkook barely believes in it. People always break. And he does when you lean forward as he drags his finger between your pussy lips, still over the clothing. You balance your weight with your arms, holding yourself up.

And then…

You so tantalisingly, softly, quietly, whisper his name.

Okay.

The snap was expected. The sigh he lets out was expected. And the way his lips finally crash against yours, making you almost fall back onto the sofa was expected, too.

But your taste… Why did he know you’d be as sweet as a cliché, like a perfume made edible? Matches your mystery and your elegance.

And the mellow, yet wanting sounds fit every move he makes. Like the moan-sigh combination when his bold hand wraps around the bun you’ve arranged your hair into. How you breathe into the kiss when he tilts your head a little, and then proceeds to loosen up said bun.

Releases it. Lets your hair fall. Pulls you in, pausing the make-out in the process, and then diving back in with a greed he’s never been met with before.

And as he kisses you, his index finger still dips into the uncharted territory below, ruining your panties some more as he soaks them; fucking loving how you whimper as a result.

No… this is ruining him just as much.

So he draws back from your body, attempting and probably failing not to look at you like an animal glaring down at his prey, ready to devour. He’s never seen this expression himself, but one or two girls have uttered quiet, “Oh-oh,” in such moments before — do you see the danger, too?

Or is he being cocky? But it’s not his fault. You make him cocky because he can never fucking say what you think! Of course he’d need the mental praise to himself — your opinion on him is too difficult to decipher.

He’ll keep the energy up. Make you shrink in his hold.

Hands under your ass, he lifts your lower body a little, amused by your wide eyes and how you wonder, “What are you d—”

Silencing the moment he uses his palms’ position to grab the hem of your panties and pull them down your legs. Over them and then on the other side of the table. The two of you won’t need those tonight.

“What does it look like that I’m doing?” he teases, smirk effective and permanent.

He likes that about himself. Maybe you’ll do, too. If not, then you at least do like how his fingers, impatient, find their way back home again, not before lifting your dress to your hips until you’re bared to him the way he’s craved.

And he pauses.

Oh, this treasure…

“You…” he starts, moving two ring-clad fingers between your folds. Testing the waters. “I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight. You’re staying right here…” He leans forwards, body on body, whispering against your lips. “Trapped under me.”

You want to answer, he thinks. Your eyebrows relax for a second, an inebriated smile playing around your mouth. If he knows you well enough, he’d guess you’re urging to dive back into your witty remarks.

But none of it is possible just yet. Because when he caresses your pussy again, increasing the pace without being too unreasonably fast, you bite your lip. He urges you to release it with his tongue. And when you do, his finger plunges in; as deeply as it can. So easily, too.

He kisses your clavicles the moment your nails get ahold of his arms, wiggling underneath him, but still caged in. And he sees the built-up frustration; how you kept yourself at bay, but can barely do it now. How you yearn for just one or two more right touches here and there before…

But before he can, he stops. Immediately, unexpectedly for you. Once again, mean, but…

“You’ll thank me later,” he utters — and with those four measly words, something awakens in you that was hidden for just the last ten minutes.

“Oh? You… you’re confident like this.”

“Of course I am.”

“Jungkook…” you say in such frustration that he thinks you’ll beg some more. But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head and say. “Men rarely manage to…”

“This isn’t rare. I’m not giving you rare, ‘kay?”

“I…”

“How…” he readjusts your body, pulling you down the couch, shifting until his knee keeps your legs apart. “How fucking insulting.”

Do you hear any of this anymore? Because your eyes are closed again. Hands still holding on; and… and body winding in order for your cunt to shift closer to him, suddenly rubbing against his knee.

It’s all you can get at the moment since his hands are so far out of reach. And the satisfaction of knowing that you’ll strive for anything at all is cosmic.

“You’re ruining my jeans,” he mocks, clicking his tongue as if to reprimand.

“Then…” You hook a finger into one of his jeans’ loops, pulling and then releasing again. “Take them off, coward.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. They say that if you have waited for so long, what’s ten more minutes? But no more. Not another second.

So he obliges immediately as he mutters, “‘Kay,” offering a helping hand when you work on his shirt. Off and to the ground. Pants off and to the back of the couch. He already knows he’ll be finding them all scattered the next morning.

But that’s the problem of just that next-morning-self.

Boxers still on, he returns to give you another initial taste of what’s to explode. The dress moves up from your hip as he slides it over your skin, stopping right under the mounds he’s still so curious about.

He needs to keep this balanced. Rush as much as might be appropriate, but not too much to make things embarrassing. This… the way he leans down again, opening your legs, erection grinding against your pussy and offering the bare minimum… this is good enough for now…

Or maybe not. Because merely a couple seconds later, you halt mid-moan, letting out breathy words that he struggles to understand until you repeat, “Is that… all you’ll be doing tonight?”

“Hmmm, you want more?”

“I— I don’t know.” Pause, a gulp when he presses his clothed length between your cunt. “Are you going to tell me your secrets if I say yes?”

His secrets?

You must be kidding. He has been an open book to you, chasing you around; if anything, he needs to unravel your mind.

But for that, he needs to play along. So he feigns the same mystery you emanate, teasing, “What do you wanna know?”

And you don’t hesitate. “Everything.”

…Hmm…

You’ve never seemed as interested as you are now. Never dove into his thoughts and the dim heart like now. If he agreed now, would you blurt out something specific? Questions that you formed when he wasn’t paying attention?

No idea. Maybe that’s something to worry about later. Pillowtalk. The morning after talk. Just anything… just not now.

He removes the obstacles currently standing between the two of you. The cushion standing against the back of the couch, constantly falling into your face. He throws it on the ground, so you don’t have to keep swatting it away.

Then, the dress covering your body. He gives a sign of wanting to proceed, and you play along, lifting yourself, chasing his lips as your outfit follows the cushion. And then, the phone right underneath the small of your back, having snuck there, undetected until you yelp, “Oh!”

“What?”

“Cold. Don’t know how it got there.”

He fishes out the device, watching it light up, a notification at the top that he can’t decode and that he doesn’t pay any mind to. Puts it on the coffee table. Then… last but not least… the uncertain atmosphere.

He says, “You want to know everything? Then make a list. I’ll tell you if I feel like it… deal?”

“You’re so…”

“You gotta make me. No other way out, baby.”

An answer lies on your tongue, ready to disrupt the moment. He knows because you look distracted all of a sudden, possibly still thinking about the same thing you did before, dissociating as he sat next to you, wine in hand.

It’s probably about work. Or about Taehyung — God, nobody at work but Jungkook would know, but you mention that guy all the time.

But tonight is not the night to think of others. So he shakes your upcoming inquiries away, giving you no time to think about it further as he, thirsty and impatient, picks you up and off the couch.

Right into his lap. Right onto his cock.

Still a layer between the two of you, watching you grind immediately. For a moment, you put him under your spell, urging him to stay right there and not move away until he’s shot buckets of cum into his boxers.

But…

But he’d rather do it in you, with you, because of truly you.

So he wastes no second as he executes his former plan, large hands sprawling over your ass before he stands with willpower and strength. He throws you a couple inches into the air, making you adjust, and then moves.

Away from the couch, stepping onto the clothes on the floor, careful not to stumble and hurt the two of you. The way to the bedroom seems endless, and you so naked… so… so his for the night. Like what, he still needs to wait those couple square metres?

Fuck, how…

No. It must be a primal instinct that hankers him to give up already, having made it halfway through the room and almost to his bedroom when he suddenly stops. Pinning you against a random free spot at the wall, right under a silent clock.

“What are you…?”

Your voice is trembling, for some reason so incredibly small. For the first time since you lay beneath him on the couch, he sees your eyes properly, and they flit back to the couch as if you’re looking where you just departed from — and then back to him.

“What are you looking for?” he whispers. Tantalisingly, he brings his fingers to your chin, pinching it lightly as he raises your head. “Hm? I’m here. Do you want to go back? Missing the couch? Wall might not be as comfortable, huh…”

“No… that’s not a problem. I’m just… surprised by the change.”

You do look surprised. A little cheekier again as your tone rises, your head falling to the side, lips smiling as if to distract him from something bigger. As if there’s anything bigger in existence right now than you.

“It was just sudden,” you conclude.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all. I’m just curious.”

He doesn’t need to ask what about. He sees it in this expecting gaze of yours that you want to read and decrypt his next steps. And you can have them.

Because he lets you go, making you fall silently on your feet, kissing you once before he falls to his knees. You groan when he grabs your leg, placing it on his shoulder, restless when his lips charge for your open folds.

He offers you, “Curious, huh? No need,” before kissing your clit, adding another, “Just indulge in it… no need to use your pretty brain today,” and then attaching his mouth and tongue to your dripping pussy.

Digging his large nose into you, tickling your nub, he swirls his tongue around, slurping you up like his favourite drink. Holy fuck, you taste good. He could eat you up, down you in one like a shot. Stay right here all night.

You get ahold of a patch of his hair, but don’t pull �� somehow, he wishes you would. Instead, you seem to focus on your body, trying not to fall, keeping it upright. You’re winding, your leg moving, and he soon wraps an arm around your thigh to keep you from stirring too much.

And with the other, he targets your cunt, mouth moving up to make space for the digits to easily, effortlessly slide into you. You gasp, just a bit louder when the metal touches your hot sex, calling his name — and for possibly the first time, he hears you curse, “Fuck. Fuck, I’m— I’m going to pass out.”

Oh my God.

If he could lick you to unconsciousness, he’d feel shocked and proud at once. He wants to see you become weightless, wants to catch you in his arms, and then bring you to his bedroom, still delirious, and fuck your brain out of you.

He wants you so bad. He wants to fuck you so fucking badly. His cock aches, godfuckingdamn.

As he rolls his tongue, lips kissing yours, moving his head left and right as he makes out with your pussy, he almost pulls all the way through. Nearly gives into your body language, nose moving over your clit, fingers pumping in and out, breathing into your pussy hotly.

But he has other plans. He wants to see your damn tears; wants you to unleash all your desperation. So, just when your sounds change, less pauses between them, high-pitched, heavy breathing, he stops.

Draws back, watching you press your ass into the wall, head suddenly hanging low. You whisper, “No…” as he looks up in satisfaction, waiting for you to say more.

You’re out of breath, exhaling through half gritted teeth, a palm on his chest as he rises again. You declare, “I’m going to blueball you, too.”

But the adrenaline has poured buckets of confidence over Jungkook already, and he’s drenched in it as much as in your scent, cocking an eyebrow as he challenges, “You can try.”

“I’m gonna suck your dick so fucking slow.”

“Do it,” he keeps the mask up, wondering how much of the effect you saw upon gracing him with such a provocative image, “let’s see if you make it this far. Might just fuck you into space before that, you know?”

He lets out an unsteady breath, a strand of your hair swaying upon impact. His hand taps at your thigh, testing whether you’ve closed your legs again; and as he realises that you haven’t, much to his pleasure, he palms your pussy, heel of his hand pressing against your clit.

“You’re trying to set me off, because you know you can, right?” he questions, for a split moment distracted by the teeth gnawing at your lower lip. “Smart of you. You are truly smart, babe… but you’re also mine tonight. So don’t play games.”

A slap lands on your vulnerable pussy, and he understands your frustration as you open your mouth, the lower lip previously captive rolling back into place. Soft and gorgeous.

No matter the fading distance, there’s still something inexplicable in the air, as if he can’t really separate a dream from reality. As if he needs evidence that this isn’t yet another figment of his imagination; the ones he’s awoken from several times, underwear threatening to burst.

The hand just torturing your cunt wanders up your body and settles around your neck, like a chain or a necklace or a motherfucking leash. He feels home here, just like this. With your fingers on his wrist, gulping under his touch.

Pinned firmly against the wall, he looks down to where you’re dripping and he’s standing tall, gripping the ever-twitching length that is begging for more. Begging for relief. He’s doing this to himself — because his body is burning up, as if scorched by sun flares.

He’s doing this to the both of you.

The kiss underneath your ear as he leans in. And the still harmless yet sinful touch between his tip and your folds. How he holds the shaft firmly, leading the head between your pussy lips, teasing until just an inch intrudes your awaiting hole.

He moans the moment you do, moving, fucking just the first of the tip into you; scrambling his own thoughts as he says, “God, I could just slide in… you’re so, so wet.”

“What… why say this if you won’t do it?”

Guess you’ve figured him out well enough. Guess that’s the cockiness you implied when you called him a fuckboy in that stupid museum. Or how you kept a safe distance — because thinking about it, maybe Jungkook could be someone to break somebody’s heart.

No. He knows he is. But…

He shakes the thought off his brain, returning to this very moment where you’re waiting for his answer, a heart made of steel. You won’t let him hurt you; you know better than that. You could dodge him easily.

Mentally, at least. Physically, you’re under his mercy.

So he uses this weakness, muttering under his breath, “I will, I will… but not here. We can do better than here.”

Wasn’t this just a pit stop after all? What he’s seeking is still waiting in his bedroom, soft sheets spread over the cold mattress, waiting for a body to warm it up. Or two.

Already hot and bothered, Jungkook lets you go entirely; and the next minute happens in a blur, as though he’s struggling with recognising his own apartment. Suddenly self-conscious about everything and nothing at once.

With you in his grip, he walks along the dark, small corridor; then past the paintings, through the door, into a well-managed, tidy bedroom until he’s sat your ass down. It happens within the tiniest moment — he could narrate how you got here but he can barely recall it.

Dick at the same height as your mouth, he wraps his hand around it. You don’t initiate anything of what you promised, looking into his eyes with a question; he knows you want to avenge yourself and provide the same vanity, but you’d rather skip to the best part.

He wants to, too.

So he doesn’t ram his cock into your mouth, hitting the farthest spot until you gag. Instead, he relishes the image mentally and quietly, fantasising about the warmth of your spit, about the tongue swirling around.

And then… then he goes a step further and imagines the even extended pleasure if he dug into your pussy now, maximising whatever your mouth could make him feel.

Are his thoughts too straight-forward? If he spelled them out like this, one by one, would you find him weird? Too eager? Obsessed?

Maybe he should slow down. Just a bit.

Which is why he holds his shaft closer to you, still surprised when you don’t open up, hints of the past confusion alternating with your confident, mysterious, teasing self. It’s weird to witness. But your eyes are still hazy at least. You don’t seem to want to stop.

God. He can’t figure it out. Not figuring out is agitating even in this moment.

But… good energies. Good energies. All the pent-up frustration needs to be morphed into sheer craze. He can do that.

“Spit on it,” he orders.

You only hum. Something in your gaze changes again, eyelids fluttering, as if awoken from trance. But you’re willing. Immediately mimicking him as you bring a thumb to a mole on the protruding veins. Tracing them, all the way back to his balls until you touch them just lightly, but enough for him to nearly lose his shit.

“Fuck, I said,” he reprimands, though delighted by the sudden rapture, “spit on it.”

You nod as if carrying out a task given by your manager; perhaps used to the last days and weeks when he’d command you around. Ask for another meeting, or for your opinion on a song, or just to keep him company to keep him productive.

Or, to keep you close to him. Lost in thoughts. Many thoughts. And even though none of them became a reality in that room, none of the equipment shoved aside to sit you on the desk, this… this right here is more than enough.

You suck in your cheeks, collecting spit, and when you lean forward… you make such a mess. Spitting onto the tip, a string still connecting your lips and his dick, leftover saliva dripping down your chin and then on your tits.

The view is… worth diamonds.

Do you even know?

“Okay,” he utters, no real direction in his mind, no real sentence to utter. “Okay.”

But you’re equipped with ideas, immediately getting onto the trail you left, spreading the spit over his cock, down to the base. The tip and the slit glisten, traces of precum mixing with your drool, but it’s not enough to cover his length all over.

So he mutters a mental, “More,” to himself, tapping your lips until you open, sticking two of his fingers in and pressing against your tongue. Lubricating his digits, he rolls them over your tongue, far enough to nearly make you gag until he draws back.

Watching you work on him rolls a wave of satisfaction over him. He’s proud, enduring like this. Because judging from the creature you are, as if jumped out of dark mythology, he truly expected to give up way earlier.

But he remains steadfast; eager to not explode until he’s filled you up first. Drawn out your own highs.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you a good one?” Jungkook praises, helping you out with whatever his fingers gathered in your mouth. Then, grabs your wrist, pushing you away, hovering above you with a, “Turn around.”

You gulp again. Then shift back on his bed, sighing as you feel the soft silk underneath your skin, kissing and hugging your body. The sight is gorgeous, with you fleeing to the back of the mattress, obliging so easily. Prey.

And…

“Holy fuck.”

Holy fuck, how you look when you finally get into position. Ass up, upper body down. And the arms over your head? What in the world.

Okay… okay…

Wait. You’re saying something.

His knees dig into the mattress, hand unconsciously pumping his cock — he doesn’t even know when he started — as he moves closer, over your body. Kisses your shoulder, bringing his ear close to hear before, “Huh? What’d you say?”

“I’m already so spent.”

“Ah… do you want to stop?”

“No… you made me feel spent. But you’re not done, are you?”

Pause. Bright smirk. Then, “Of course not. Does it feel like it?” Another kiss to your shoulder, wet this time. “Condom or not?”

“Oh.” Seems you hadn’t even thought about this yet. Kind of nice. “I’m… I use an IUD. Have you… slept with many people lately?”

No answer yet. He thinks. Thinks back to the several weeks since he met you. Should he say it? Would you back away if he did? Years ago, there’d be no debate about it — he wouldn’t have told you. Kept it to himself.

Perhaps there’s still a part of him that’d dodge your question, but he somehow feels like you’d see through him. Hear the insincerity.

Fuck, is that selfish? Maybe. Doesn’t he already know that he is? But he’s not bad; and people are selfish.

So a second later, he truthfully admits, “Once. Two or so weeks ago. Nothing special though, just dumb, drunk shit. Some girl from a club. And I tested after.”

As soon as the sentence finishes, he wonders if you deem yourself just another one of those. But… in all honesty. She was a one night stand whose sounds, name, dirty talk did nothing to him.

All he could imagine was you. Perhaps not out of loyalty, but surely out of curiosity.

He can’t fathom his thoughts into feelings yet; he still wouldn’t describe his attitude towards you as falling in love or anything. That’d be too far stretched. But he thought about it — that maybe he liked you too much.

Yet, his heart remained empty; but his body never did. He feels bad; and still, he won’t deny whatever his skin and mind whisper to him.

Other than that, he could probably declare with quite a firm certainty that you don’t feel any different about him. You can’t be.

So maybe this is good enough for now.

“But know what?” he says, voice lower, repeating his thoughts. “Could only imagine what it’d be like if it was you. This pussy,” strokes his cock along your cunt, “and this body,” touches the small of your back, “these thoughts got me going. And you’re so much better in reality.”

“Mmmh,” is all you utter, nearly hiding your face in the pillow before you say, “maybe… maybe we can still use a condom then.”

Shit. Expected it.

But okay. Okay.

Where are the condoms again… bedside table? No. He used the last one ages ago, before he knew you. He gets up; walks to the closet; somewhere near his socks, there must be a new pack. A moment to think.

For a second, he looks back at you. You’re still the same, only with the ass having dropped again, losing balance and energy. And maybe, you’re still drunk, too — probably, because even he still feels the world spin, careful not to close his eyes for too long.

Okay. One… no, two foils out. As he turns back to you, nearing you, his head is just a little calmer than a minute again, and he wonders… were all the thoughts his own? The past half an hour or however much passed, didn’t he spiral more and more?

Did you notice? He shakes his head. Who cares?

Not him, not right now. He keeps telling himself that with a goddess waiting in front of him on all fours, he probably doesn’t need to worry about anything unless there’s a reason to. You’ve been cooperative and the night has been successful, minus the strange gazes you keep throwing at him periodically.

“Alright, baby. Up you come,” he mumbles, bringing your ass back to his crotch. His hands are already trained and incredibly skilled; doing work on the condom doesn’t take him more than a couple seconds. “I should tell you now.”

You pause. Suck in some breath, as if expecting something in particular. You agree with an unmatched thirst for knowledge, “…Tell me.”

“I don’t tend to go easy. If you need me to be, you’ll have to tell me. ‘Kay?”

“I… I can take a lot more than you think.”

Fuck. He’ll wreck your shit. “Perfect. You’re honestly a good one, huh? Such a good girl for real, no— no, you’re the best.”

Is he just saying whatever now? Perhaps he should stop boring you and get to it. Right? Please, the goddamn, blood-filled tower down there is desperately imploring him to.

He collects spit like you did before, targeting your glinting pussy, one blob right onto it. Then, he brings his fingers back to where they love to be, distributing the filth between your folds. And then, two fingers into the tightening hole.

Right before moving north, between your ass cheeks, thumb rolling over your other clenching hole.

And you tense immediately, without saying a word, taking it quietly. Then… then he finally starts.

Brings the annoying rubber to your soaked pussy, poking for a second before he gets serious and eventually dips in. The free hand raises your ass some more, and he shifts forwards, your butt backwards, helping him get in further.

He hears the reaction. Hears the almost-screech in a second, nails biting into the pillow over your head. You hold onto it for dear life as he slowly bottoms out, your sporadic breathing and high-pitched moans mingling with his own bursts of lust.

Deep creases appear between his eyebrows, lips bitten sore, and once his waist has finally connected with your ass, he takes a deep, long inhale. Watches your face disappear deeper into the pillow, sounds muffled.

Enjoys it for a moment before he starts moving slowly. Out, in. Concentrating before he might spill too early. Beads of sweat shimmer on his forehead, dampening the hanging strands of hair. You feel good. Too fucking good—

He wants to go off right away. But… focus.

“How’s that?” he asks.

“Stop… stop talking.”

Oh. Bold. But a good sign, isn’t it? If you wanted him to stop, you’d say it. So he keeps going… dares just a little more, courageous, encouraged by your cooperation. Explores your ass and what lies between the cheeks more, groaning before he says, “You stop that.”

His hand reaches for your wrists, keeping you from tearing his pillow and leading your fingers to where his touched your ass before. You keep your touch there, unmoving until he says, “Keep them apart.”

And you seem to understand. His thumb returns to your unoccupied hole as his cock impales your pussy whole, still going at a tormenting pace. Thick and soaked, he’s splitting you in two; maybe that’s why the slow plunges are such a plague. Because both of you know there could be more.

Pulling your ass cheeks apart, you remain with your face in the sheets, arms trembling as he circles your hole again. He doesn’t know if you’re into this; doesn’t know if you’ll protest. So far, he’s been pretty obvious with his intentions, and he’s sure you must understand this one, too.

And you’re not fearful; if something bothered you, you wouldn’t hesitate to voice your displeasure. So he spits one more time, right onto his thumb, using the lubrication to carefully, curiously dip the tip of his thumb into your ass.

You yelp immediately; as your hole tightens around the little bit of his thumb, your pussy narrows around his cock, too, and he nearly loses it. Nearly drools onto your back as his mouth drops open, blinking rapidly for a second.

God, your body reacts with such intensity. Still, he makes sure, “Too much?”

And you, candidly, reply, “I don’t know. I… think so.”

“Okay. Then I’ll sto—”

“No. No, wait… I want to— I want to know what it’s like.”

Thought so. He knew that underneath all the chic charade, you crave just as much as he does. And if it’s him that you long for, then what even stands between him and the rocket shooting his ego to the sky?

This feels good. Really good… not just physically. You lift his spirits.

Ready with an exhale, he dares his thumb deeper, letting more of it disappear in you. Out of all the women he’s ever been with, not more than a handful has been willing to venture into this part of sexual desire. Most of them can’t stand the discomfort, and some of them don’t feel any particular way about it.

But you lay open to him in every way possible. An open book for once; easy to read, as if calculating how you wind, planning how to sound, guiding him fearlessly.

Soon, he’s adjusting his thrusts to your moans, and you’re adjusting your moans to his thrusts. Synchronised, the two of you groan and cry out together, and he makes sure to keep you filled to the brim, reducing the pauses between the shoves bit by bit.

Until…

“Hey,” he whispers, waiting for you to react, but as he pumps into you, slowly yet balls-deep, you don’t do anything much but scream into the pillow. So he just continues, “How much do you think you can take, baby?”

“I… I’m—”

You’re attempting your best, but you’re tongue-tied. With each push, he catapults your body forwards, but your mind is long lost in the stratosphere. With gritted teeth and a rising, heavily breathing, golden chest, he leans in close to you, hand snaking under you and around your neck as he retries, “So?”

“I don’t know,” you blurt, and as you raise your head and look back at him, he sees a sight to behold — mascara underneath your eyes, lipstick smeared, a quivering chin. He’s fucking you so good; he must be, because you soon add, “Just do an—and I’ll let you know.”

“Good idea. Very good idea.”

He’s fucking you good. But it’s not all he’s got; not all he’s wanted for days and weeks.

No. If he unleashed all he’s been fabricating in his mind, he’d drench your cheeks in tears. And now that you permitted him to, he might just go ahead, right?

Right.

Which is why the next steps come easy to him, naturally, as if you pressed a button he’s been waiting to smash. A big, red one, like the ones in games urging you to not touch or you’d lose. But by God, right now, he’s not losing.

If he looked into his reflection in the dark window, he’d see a winner through and through.

A fiery rage courses through his burning veins. A face contorting when he lets you go, only to move his fingers back, wrapping them around the back of your neck. Shoving you into the mattress, ramming his cock into you, once more keeping the familiar pace and then—

And then he closes his eyes. Matches an expression to your yelps. Drives into your deepest core and picks up speed until, all of a sudden, it turns jarring.

Jungkook doesn’t get enough. He doesn’t know if he ever will; damn the approaching end of this. There shouldn’t be one; he should be capable of ruining you forever. Maybe he will be.

For now, he directs his thoughts fully on how you feel and how you sound, uncaring about the jagged breathing that burns up his chest. Leaning forward, he attempts twice until he catches your ears, nibbling at your earlobe.

At first, he doesn’t know if you register the touch, given that he’s occupying you with far crazier sensations. But then you reach out a hand, panting into the pillow, grabbing a patch of his hair.

And he, fired up and insane, leans back, gripping your wrist, removing it from his mane and pinning it to your back instead. Your face moves to the side, not muffled by the pillow anymore, and you gasp for air before you beg, “Please, I’m about to—”

That’s all you get, because he soon interrupts with a cheeky, “You can hold on for a bit longer,” pausing on purpose. He wants to see you when you come. Wants to wipe more of your make up across your face. Wants to kiss the colour of your lipstick onto his own lips.

Letting your orgasm fade, he waits, just a couple seconds, allowing you to catch your breath until your eyebrows furrow. You blink repeatedly, then looking up into his eyes, and it’s all he needs to feel his patience dissipate again.

Jungkook gets into a new position, leaving one knee deep in the mattress while angling the other leg, planting its foot on the sheets. He keeps his cock from falling out, leading the tip and the shaft back in before he resumes to fuck you wound.

Your arm is still hostage to his grip, the nails of your other hand gripping the sheet for dear life. It’s gorgeous, the view from where Jungkook looks down at his meal. Crazy how you purr and whine when he leans in, touching your swollen clit, electrifying you. And he keeps looking at you.

At the upper body waving a white flag, too weak to keep yourself upright anymore. And then, the ass in the air staying firmly at its place, his dick aiding you, the flesh of your cheeks wobbling with each thrust, like an ocean wave. Whenever it collides with his hips, the slaps resound temptingly, and Jungkook soon mimics it by letting his hand fall hard on your ass.

You mewl, calling out his name twice, the second cry half uttered, half of the Jungkook omitted. And when you catch the tiniest of your breaths, still working with drying lungs, you say, “L-let me come, please—”

“Wait,” he says again, still sadistic, still masochistic, absolutely out of his mind before an idea lights up his mind. “This isn’t it yet.”

The finger working on your nub was an evil tactic, he’s got to admit. Perhaps he led you to believe something he’s not ready to give you yet, and once you seem to realise, you let out a sob.

And he’s positively delighted once he stops. Lowers his head to look at you. Sees the dark, smeared mascara on his pillow when he digs his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back as he says, “I know. You thought we were done, right? We’re not done, though.”

“Wha—”

He lets his body fall onto the mattress, right next to you, and pulls you in, back against his chest. Hand under your tits, pressing against them, moving them up and down before pinching your nipple once.

“I said,” he repeats, probably unnecessarily, because he doesn’t think you actually demand an answer, “I’m not done. Understand?”

And as expected, you don’t nod or answer. You only push your body further into his, and he reckons that’s a mighty sufficient implication already.

As you lay sideways with a breath as heavy as his, his exhales hot against your ear, you let out sounds reminiscent of marathon runners. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and so is he — but neither of you are finished, and he’d be damned if he permitted the night to end like this.

Diligently, he throws your quivering leg over his; your impish remarks have lessened since he took over, and in turn, his own insolent emotions are reigning supremely. He leads his submerged, rock-hard, twitching cock to your battered cunt, pushing in so easily he thinks he’s dreaming.

It’s like putting a key into its lock.

“Ahh, fuck.” It’s hard to fully bottom out in this position, but he can touch you so much better now. He lets his hands explore your bare body, fondling with your tits, kissing your ear and jaw. “Hold tight. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

It’s cruel, he knows; the gentle praises as he wreaks havoc down there. He crosses your wrists against your tummy, holding them tight, and you close to him. Fucks you dumb and stupid as you wail in his arms. Moves to your clit and gives it pleasant, gentle rubs, so opposite from the rest of his ministrations.

And the pressure builds. His balls, hard as steel, prepare to shoot their load into you, his cock impossibly stiff, but… but…

You haven’t come yet. And this position won’t do. Can’t do, won’t do, he needs to see you.

So he echoes, “Won’t do,” as he gets up again, keeping the previous position short lived. Doesn’t stay away for too long before he’s on his knees, pulling your legs apart, after the briefest interruptions deep inside again before he leans into you.

And then, everything happens crazy fast.

How he keeps you from wrapping your arms around him; instead, capturing your wrists once again, raising them next to your head. How he moves to kiss you for the first time after quite a while, intertwining your tongues, moaning hard as he feels his high approach.

The fast pace changes a little as he loses his mind and focus, one of the strokes stopping as he almost pulls out, and then plunges in again. Your fingers curl in, nails sharp enough to dig into the digits that hold you, and he cries out in delight, letting a breathy chuckle fall.

He says, “Alright, yeah. Next time… we’re tying you up. Love how you whine.” He lets one hand go, gripping your face again and you move your touch to his shoulder immediately, gasping. “You always p-play the mysterious girl, huh? But you’re so pathetic right now.”

The inhibitions are out the window. The overthinking, too. Whatever he thought might make you run away from him has long exited his mind, because he’s got you right here, under his control, nearing the end.

There’s no going back. No return to his yearning, because you’ve satisfied it so thoroughly.

Time to give it all back to you. One last time before he submerges himself in all his glorious egotism.

“There we go,” he says as he watches your expressions change. You open your mouth but don’t say anything. He doesn’t know what your orgasm feels like, but he knows you’re going through it. “Let it all out. Cream my cock, I fucking dare you.”

He’s saying whatever now, he knows. But he doesn’t have the capacity to think much as creases appear on your forehead and between your eyebrows, tongue mingling with his for a short moment when he goes in for another kiss, barely succeeding.

You’re trembling, lifting your hips as much as the weight above you allows, wanting more friction, more of a touch inside your pussy, on your clit, everywhere. And then, when you do come… when he brings the stars from the sky into your eyes…

Yours roll back into your head. Throwing it back, giving him access to your neck. Lips still apart, and he uses it to push a finger into your mouth, on top of your tongue. And fuck… how your pussy constricts. How it tightens so fucking much.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t affect him.

So much so that his head spins; and as he feels himself getting dizzy, he buries his face in the pillow next to your head before moving it to kiss your shoulder. Barely looks at you anymore; doesn’t care, it’s his high now, he wants to fucking come, and that’s it.

Finally, finally he’s gotten to this point.

Will he hate himself for these thoughts later? Is this too over the top? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, doesn’t care.

His thoughts are occupied, alright, don’t need another string of questions to intervene. His attention remains resolutely on his movements, vigorous, rhythmic, your sounds perfectly matching each of his strokes.

And your hands, the poor little palms, unsure where to settle. This isn’t new; across this broad back of his, every girl’s touch wanders like this. Your nails scratch the small of his back, then up his spine, across the muscles of his shoulder blades.

The fact that you’re a goner as much as him, giving yourself to him is probably the last of reassurances he needs — as if any more were required. Because still panting into your skin, eyes shut tight, he works towards the peak of his sanity, exhausted but eager as he relishes the wet tightness of your pussy; surrounding him just right, still clenching, unclenching from your orgasm.

And then—

“Ohhh, fuck,” he whispers.

His voice is shaking uncontrollably; he barely recognises it. Which… must mean this is new, right? Experience be damned, apparently you spark off phenomena nobody has ever acquainted him with before.

And oh, how you make it worse once he finally emerges again, as if catching his breath after holding it underwater for too long. Your eyes are hooded as he gets on his knees over your body, caging your hips in between his legs. Gripping one of your tits, you nibble your lower lip for a second before letting out laboured breathing, nose flaring.

It’s all he needs. All that’s left when he rips off the condom and envelops his filthy cock with his veiny hand, stroking immediately and hard. Close to the end as he rushes to ask, “Where do you want it?”

You understand what he’s asking, and nod, back to yourself when you utter mysteriously, “Anywhere but inside…” Okay. No time to ask why not — but he wouldn’t have anyway. He obliges, giving his all, one more second left before you tell him just in time, “Here.”

Your palm rubs across your skin, moving over your tits and your stomach. So he’s quick to opt away from your face and redirect his aim to where you pointed, moaning out a couple last, broken vocals before he finally spills.

Milky white, multiple blotches scattered over your skin, like a modern art painting. He’d rather draw these all day than be stuck with you in a museum restaurant, staring from afar, wishing he could reach out under the goddamn public table.

Going until he’s empty, he senses a relief unknown to him thus far, mind suddenly vacant. Once again, the ocean; he feels like the ocean. Like the water as it stills and calms after a thunderous storm. You lifted the waves of his sea high above and have now turned him into a lazy, peaceful lake.

God, he should fuck you more often; you make him a poet.

Okay. Okay, where was he?

When did he unfocus? Dizzy all of a sudden. He puffs out a breath. Then takes another look at you. Watches as you spread the sticky substance over your mounds, touching your nipple, so indecently messy.

The smirk is unintentional but inevitable, reaching far as he shakes his head at you. You smile back wordlessly, and he lets his fingertip run over his cum, too, bringing it to your lips as he asks, “Taste?”

You don’t answer. Thinking for the barest second before you scoff, stretching out your tongue before he puts the finger on it; closing your eyes, sucking it clean. He groans at the feeling; luckily, he’ll be immobile for the foreseeable future, or he’d bend you over again.

“Okay. That should be enough for now,” he breathes, letting himself fall next to you. “I promise I’m a lot more energised on other days. But…” He turns towards you, pinching your chin, bringing your face close. “God, did you take me out there. I’m beat.”

He doesn’t kiss you; only drops back, still filling his lungs with new oxygen. Pity — he still wants you, but his muscles are aching. Eyes shutting.

Then opening again when he hears you laugh, right before you say, “You don’t need to prove your endurance to me. I’ve got a pretty good idea of it now. Besides— let’s be honest. I didn’t do much.”

“Oh, you did more than enough, sweetheart,” Jungkook retorts with a snicker, giving his eyes some relief. He sighs, and then adds, “Your existence did it for me already. Wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

He shoves his arm under his head, the other untidily covering the two of you with the blanket; whatever. He’ll wash it tomorrow. For now, the two of you should probably get some rest. Although—

Did you say you wanted to stay? He didn’t catch it if you did. Perhaps he’s also just inattentive; suddenly remembers that he still has a long way to go socially, remembering that permission is courtesy. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“Uhm,” he starts; this is awkward. He doesn’t do this often — not many stay overnight anyway. Strangely, he didn’t question it with you; maybe because he wants you to. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

“In all honesty, I… I don’t think you can drive tonight. We’re both not sober yet, so I’ll just leave in the morning. Need to be in the office by noon.”

“Ah? Why?”

“Meeting with Tae. I forgot that he wanted to go through a few organisational things for the upcoming concert.”

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company.

Jungkook forgot about it all. Responsibilities still exist. Of course, he needs to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, too. This is his dream, his goal, everybody’s eyes on him, the biggest source of entertainment in the country.

Feels so stupid, forgetting you’ll leave at some point. That he can’t flip you over again all day tomorrow, that you’ll be occupied somewhere else, with someone else. Jungkook grits his teeth.

“You wanna come over again tomorrow night?” he asks.

And all of a sudden, despite the last hour, you seem lost in thoughts again. Probably tired, but he can’t help but overthink. You don’t answer immediately, keeping him on the edge, and as he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he looks over, seeing your eyes open when you say, “Don’t know. Might have a couple things to tend to.”

Ah… okay. Sure.

Where’s your mind right now, he wonders?

Maybe circling around work. Maybe your urge to go is as little as his? All these things, they don’t sound too delightful right now, do they?

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company. Tae.

When did you start using his nickname like this? Weird. Didn’t know the two of you were so close. Then again, does it matter? No. He shakes his head.

Shakes it slowly, making sure you don’t notice, sighing again before he breaks into a smile. It’s okay. You’re next to him. Not next to Taehyung. His friend. You’re covered in him. So he doesn’t let another’s name fog his brain, instead seeking peace and succeeding until—

“Don’t worry, another time,” you say, following up with a goosebump-inducing, “I’ll stick around until my feet tingle.”

Somewhere… at some point in his life… under probably not the best circumstances—

Wait.

THE FIC ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼

as always, tumblr hates content creators and has a 1k block limit. which is why you can read the rest of the story in this reblog hehe we're almost at the end <3

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook

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pedrospatch · 1 month

Text

run

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.

summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.

PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.

word count: 8.6k

a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.

Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.

Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.

That bitch doesn’t do shit.

She never has to lift a fucking finger.

She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.

Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.

Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.

Useless.

Freeloader.

Leech.

You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.

Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.

While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.

Loud.

Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.

His good girl.

You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.

“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.

You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.

It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s a craving, a need.

Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.

“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?

“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”

He’s right.

Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.

It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.

Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.

All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.

“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?

Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.

Please, Daddy. More.

Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”

Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.

He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.

“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.

Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”

Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.

Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.

You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.

He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.

But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”

“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”

Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.

A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”

Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.

“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.

“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.

“Okay.”

Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.

He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.

“I can take her.”

Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.

“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”

Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”

Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”

Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”

“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”

He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”

“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”

Joel’s lips pull into a tight line.

Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.

He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.

“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.

“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”

His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.

Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.

Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”

“Tess—”

“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”

Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”

“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”

He hesitates. He’s still not sure.

It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”

It always feels a bit strange to be outside.

But being outside without Joel?

It feels even stranger.

When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.

“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.

“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”

She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.

“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”

Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”

She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.

“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.

Silence falls over the both of you.

“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”

It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.

The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.

“This is incredible,” you gasp.

“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”

Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.

“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.

Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”

You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.

As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”

“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”

Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”

As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.

It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?

But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.

Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”

You hesitate.

“How—how long have you known each other?”

“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”

You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.

“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”

Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.

“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”

Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”

“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.

“What happened?”

She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”

Oh.

Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”

Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.

You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.

And it wanders straight to Joel.

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”

Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”

Suddenly, your eyes snap open.

There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.

“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”

The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.

Confused, you glance up at her.

“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”

Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”

A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.

“A chance to what?”

“Run.”

Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”

“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”

All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.

“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”

“But what if I don’t want to run?”

Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”

You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”

“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”

“Tess—”

She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”

“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”

Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”

Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”

“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.

“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”

“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”

She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”

“Please, just take me back to him!”

You start to follow her.

“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.

He’s furious. Livid.

Joel paces back and forth on the porch.

“Where the fuck are they?”

The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”

“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”

“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”

“What?”

Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.

Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.

Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.

“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”

“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.

Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.

It needed to be done.

He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.

Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”

Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.

Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.

“Joel, take a fucking breath—”

“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.

“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”

Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”

Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.

“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”

Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”

His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.

She’s lying to him.

“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”

Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”

Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?

Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?

She’s not sure which stings more.

“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”

He ignores the burn of her scorching words.

“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”

“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”

Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”

“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.

Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.

Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.

“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”

Tess stands her ground and says nothing.

Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.

“Ow, fuck!”

You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.

You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?

In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.

Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.

Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.

Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?

Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.

You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.

Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.

Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.

You’re free.

You may very well die, but you would die free.

Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.

Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.

Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?

You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.

A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.

It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.

At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.

He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.

Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.

“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.

He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.

“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.

It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.

No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.

“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”

“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.

Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.

Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.

“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”

“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”

He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”

“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.

Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.

Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.

Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.

You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”

You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.

“You’re—you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”

Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.

You’re drenched.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”

Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”

“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.

Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.

Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.

High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.

Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.

Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.

Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.

Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.

“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”

“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”

“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.

You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”

“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”

He hushes you.

“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.

Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.

Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You melt around him at his praise.

Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”

“Never,” you repeat, softly.

Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.

Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.

“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.

A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”

He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.

Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”

You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.

His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.

Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.

You’re right there with him.

“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”

You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.

“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”

It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.

Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.

“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”

Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.

You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.

Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.

You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.

divider credit to @/saradika 🖤

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#why yes #i AM going to queue this to post when i am dead asleep #captive!joel #dark joel miller #dark! joel miller #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #tw dark fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #fic: run

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quaithe-seastar · 18 days

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Heart to Heart

Aemond x Wife Reader

Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.

A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.

Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with.

The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.

Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”

Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation.

“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”

You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.

“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest.

“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”

You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.

Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.

The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious.

A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.

The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.

Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.

“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”

Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”

“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”

She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.

“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”

Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.

“What is it? Do you want down?”

Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.

Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”

His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.

His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.

Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.

Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.

Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout.

“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper.

The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince.

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”

Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.

Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.

“Vava, pay?”

Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.

Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.

“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”

Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion.

Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.

“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.

Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.

The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.

“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.

She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything.

But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.

Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.

“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”

Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head.

Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #x reader #x fem!reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fire and blood #hotd #girldad!aemond #dad!aemond #fluff #soft!aemond

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scap34 · 22 days

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bottom! sub! Sukuna x top! dom! mean! sadistic! cursed spirit! male reader

Reunited after a thousand years <3

warnings: alcohol, cussing, degradation, mild blood, oral sex

Sukuna has awoken.

That might have been a grim sentence to anyone else who’d attempted to capture the King of Curses. But not to you. You knew better.

You dismissed the guard with a wave. The guard straightened out and left, his scent carrying notes of fear and apprehension.

Currently there were only a few curses left alive since the Heian period. Sukuna and that brain parasite were two of them. You were another.

You had known Sukuna long before he’d become the King of Curses. You knew him intimately well. You knew him well enough to know he'd come for you.

You poured yourself a glass of whiskey, when the power cut off. You smirked into your drink as a shadow fell onto you, cast by the bright full moon.

Footsteps echoed through the room as person, thing, radiating malice and cruelty walked towards you. The imposing aura of death and evil blanketing everything for a mile radius. It would have been more, but you were prepared.

The footsteps stopped a foot from you. You didnt turn sipping your whiskey. The glass you were holding shattered, amber liquid that remained in the cup, spilling on the floor.

Your lips curled into a smirk as you tsked. “That was rude, Sukuna.” The lights flickered and turned on.

Your eyes finally went to look at him. Sukuna’s vessel looked the same as his original mortal body, before the four arms. Blood spattered his face, his shirt clean aside for three slashes.

He looks at you, crimson-red eyes filled with malice and darkness. Yet something else was inside them, something you recognized.

He took another step forward under your gaze.

Knees hit the ground, and crimson eyes looked up at you. “Want,” he paused and licked his dry lips, voice hoarse and filled with need. “Want your cock.” he muttered almost reluctantly, yet his eyes gleamed fever bright with lust.

Sukuna would come after you. You knew this. You’d also known why he’d come after you. You chuckled lowly, and reached over and carded your hand though soft pink hair. Sukuna shuddered at your touch, letting out a soft involuntary moan.

You tightened your grip on his hair, till he was winching, shifting his thighs to hide his hardness. “You just woke up…are you that much of a slut, ‘kuna?” You purred darkly, enjoying the way Sukuna shuddered and his cock twitched in his pants at the degradation.

“Yes,” he moaned hoarsely. “Want your cock, pl’ease.” He didn't dare reach for your cock, that strained against your own zipper. He gave you a pleading look, eyes half lidded, looking drowsy.

Exactly how you wanted him. Sacrificing all those high level sorcerers and curses were worth it, since it brought out your baby’s slutiness and wore him down.

“Go ahead baby.” You purred. Hands immediately reached for your zipper pulling out your cock impatiently. Pink lips wrapped around your cock, sucking and gagging on your dick.

Tears beading the corner of Sukuna’s red eyes, lashes fluttering as he bobbed his head on your hard cock eagerly.

You watched him with a sense of pride and pity. Your poor baby was such a cock addicted slut, sucking your dick like a pro even after a century. You wonder how terrible it must have been for a whore like him to be locked away for so long.

Your hand tightened around Sukuna’s hair and you pulled him fully onto your cock, making him gag around you as you facefuck him. Sukuna whines around your cock, nose pressed to your pelvis, suffocating on your cock.

His mouth is a tight velvety heat. His usual scalding words, and threats gone from fatigue and lust. Yanking his pink locks, you buried your cock deep into his throat, moaning when his throat fluttered around your cock as he squirmed.

Tugging you cock back into his mouth you continue to fuck his face. His expression fucked dumb, eyes glossed over as tears dripped down. Swollen pink lips desperately sucking your cock.

What a slut.

You stepped on his hand as he tried to touch his own aching cock. “Did I give you permission, slut?” He moaned around your cock, the vibration sending more heat to your stomach.

You roughly thrust your cock in and out, face fucking him a few more times then pulled his head off. Teary red eyes glazed over with lust, met your eyes, saliva leaked out his open mouth. He whined as your cock left his lips already begging.

His tongue stuck out, begging for cum, as he lapped at the head of cock, desperately. Kitten licks, that the All Powerful King of Curses would never admit to.

“Pl’ease, please, c’ck w’nt your cock,” he whined words slurred and hoarse from being fucked. You chuckled, and yanked his hair back to force him to look up at you.

Crimson eyes met yours and you felt a warm rush of pleasure. Those eyes were familiar even with a different body. You knew him as much as he knew you. Connected for eternity, he’d run to you and you to him.

You couldn’t help but caressing his swollen bottom lip, wiping a bit of salvia off and licking it off, tasting a mix of yourself and Sukuna. Your baby was back. And this time, they’d have to pry him from your cold hands.

“Turn around, princess. You know what to do, just like before.”

#sub male character #dom male reader #male reader #top male reader #mean reader #sub male yandere #sub sukuna #bottom sukuna #sukuna smut #sadistic reader

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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 month

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Unexpected Surprises

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Finding out your pregnant is one thing, having Logan know before you is another.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, descriptions of giving birth, Logan's senses are at their full power. He's also read the books. One swear word here and there. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you, even yesterday, that you would be sitting inside your bathroom with Logan sitting against your sink counter, waiting for a pregnancy test to show you a result he already knew…

You wouldn’t have believed them.

They could have been cursed to tell the truth their entire lives and you still wouldn’t have believed them.

Because it was baffling to you.

And it had all started because Logan - of all people - knew you were pregnant.

It had all started several weeks ago when you had met the team under the school inside Jean Grey’s lab. The others had been talking when you had arrived and slid in to stand beside Logan.

After a moment, he sniffed.

“What is it?”

“Have you changed your shower gel?”

You looked at him with a bewildered look. “No, why?”

“You smell different.”

“I don’t know how comfortable I am knowing you can smell me.” You said, looking up at him. You knew it was a part of his mutation; heightened senses, but it still caught you off guard every now and then.

Logan shrugged. “I can always smell you.”

From there, you both turned to find out why you’d been called down to the lab.

Over the next couple of weeks, Logan noticed a change in you.

You started napping.

For the average person, taking a nap in the middle of the day wasn’t unheard of. But for you, someone who practically lived off four to five hours a night of sleep, constantly running around the place doing things, unable to sit still long enough to even think about taking a nap….

It was unheard of.

First it had been in the living room on the sofa whilst the kids were either out or in their rooms before they’d get called for dinner. Then in the library, the hallway on the window seat bench, the kitchen. And Logan hadn’t been the only one to find you napping.

But he was the only one to move you from where you were and into your bedroom.

And each day your scent was getting stronger.

For the life of him he couldn’t put his finger on it. He had asked Jean about it but since you hadn’t come to her, or hadn’t seemed unlike your normal self, she didn’t see anything to worry about.

Maybe your body was just finally making you listen and telling you to rest.

But as of a week ago, you had been throwing up every meal you had. But you didn’t feel sick. Save for the twenty minutes before and after throwing up. Most of the time you felt hungry and nauseous at the same time.

Except, you’d kept the fact you kept puking to yourself. Until a morning meeting before classes were about to start.

“Excuse me, just a second-”

You just about managed to get out of the door and down the hallway before throwing up the toilet lid and emptying your breakfast back into the water.

Everyone looked around concerned and Jean was about to follow you when Logan caught her by the door. “Let me.”

Logan seemed to know something the others didn’t.

“Is she okay?”

Logan nodded, looking around before finding Charles. “She’s fine,” he replied, turning back to Jean.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Closing the door behind him, Logan found you in the staff bathroom, the door unlocked.

Knocking on, he heard you take a breath before flushing the toilet and putting the lid back down. He slowly entered before closing the door behind him and looking at you as you sat on the lid of the toilet seat.

“Here,” Logan grabbed a fresh flannel and ran it under the tap before handing it to you and crouching on the floor so he could see you.

“Thanks.” You took the flannel from him and placed it over your face, wiping it down before folding it over and running it down the back of your neck. “Two weeks. Two weeks and I can’t keep a meal down, but I feel normal.”

“There might be an explanation for that.”

Then you felt yourself starting to cry.

You never cried.

At least, Logan had never seen you cry.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One minute I’m flushed and wanting to throw up my internal organs, the next I was to sleep for a decade and eat nothing but sugar. Maybe I’m coming onto my period.”

“You’re not.”

You threw the flannel into the sink before looking at Logan. “What?”

“You’re not coming onto your period. You’re pregnant, Y/n.”

“Excuse me?”

Logan sighed. “I can…smell it. Your hormonal changes. And it would explain the tiredness, and the puking your guts up every five seconds. And the emotions.”

You just stared at Logan. “What?”

“If you don’t believe me, take a test. Maybe I’m wrong-”

“You are.” You told him. “I can’t be pregnant. When would I have had-”

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as if to say, “You really don’t remember?”

You looked up, away from him and towards the door, doing the maths in your head.

“I can’t….no. No, I can’t be pregnant.”

“Look,” Logan began. “At least take a test. Just to be sure. I could be wrong…but I don’t think I am.”

The next day Logan drove you into the town and towards the local pharmacy.

Sitting out in the car, you unbuckled your seat belt and looked at the door before turning to Logan. “Will you come in with me?”

And he did. Without question.

Spending a few minutes searching for the tests, Logan found them and handed one over to you. “Can tell as early as…” He read the box. “Five weeks.”

You nodded before looking back at the shelf, grabbing a different box of a different brand, just to be safe. At the counter, the cashier rang up both boxes for you. Neither you or Logan missed the light smile on her face as she looked between the two of you. However, the cashier missed the slightly awkward shift from Logan as he realised what she was doing and he somehow moved both closer to you and away from you at the same time.

“That’ll be seven, ninety five.”

You handed over a ten dollar bill and collected your change. Both yourself and Logan thanked her before shuffling away from the counter, Logan looking behind him as he opened up the door for you, finding the cashier smiling and waving you out.

By the time you both got home, you found a note on the desk in the hallway from Xavier. They had taken the kids out on a school trip to the museum. They should be back by dinner.

So that left you and Logan alone to stand inside your bathroom, avoiding looking at the two tests on the counter.

“I still think it’s weird you can smell the change.” You said out loud, sat on the toilet seat, your hands interlocked with each other. “I mean…what does it even smell like?”

You unlocked your hands and pressed them between your knees, turning to look up at him as he leaned against your sink counter.

Logan seemed a little out of it, his head somewhere else for a moment as his eyes remained fixed on the skirting board whilst he brushed a hand repeatedly across his face.

“Huh?” He snapped out of it, brushing his face one last time before moving his hands so they were against the cold counter before crossing his feet and crossing his arms once more. “Oh, uh, I don’t know, It’s just different.”

“Like a bad different?” You asked.

“Just…stronger, I guess. Why do you even want to know? I thought you found it weird?”

You nodded. “I do. But you can’t tell me you’ve got questions for things you find weird.”

Logan looked at you. “What? Like your ability to watch a serial killer documentary before you go to bed, yet you won’t watch horror movies?”

“I knew you found that weird!”

Logan nodded. “That’s because it is. Scott isn’t allowed near you in the month of October because you said he watches too many scary movies.”

“I can see it in his aura. Being near Scott in the month of October is like putting you next to a magnet and hoping you don’t get stuck to it. Horror movies scare me any time of year, it’s just stronger in October. And Scott watches too many.”

“Who knew the woman who used to work for the FBI, doesn’t like horror movies?”

“Technically, I worked in the labs. Not the field.”

“Still. FBI that’s afraid of a couple jumpscares on a set full of actors. Kind of ironic if you ask me.”

“Oh, please.” You replied, turned back to looking at the door. “You’re just as scared of them. Don’t think I didn’t spot the claw shaped holes in the pillow from last Halloween.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Logan squirm.

“How long is left on this thing anyway?”

You looked at your phone. “Twenty seconds.”

You both watched as the timer went off before looking at each other. “Ready?”

It took you a second, but you finally nodded and Logan stood back up straight. As did you before pulling the face down tests from the counter.

Logan stood behind you, his hand absentmindedly coming to your hip as he looked over your shoulder. You closed your eyes before turning them round and took another second before finally opening them.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

Two lines.

Both tests.

Two, vibrant, clear from space, lines.

And despite him being the first to know, everything suddenly felt a lot more real for Logan.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out before you felt yourself starting to cry again. “Oh my god.”

You looked at Logan through the mirror before turning around and his arms wrapped themselves around you as you stood on your tiptoes to bury your face into his neck.

“What do you need? Tell me what you need.”

You set yourself back on your feet, your eyes locked on Logan’s chest. “Sleep? I think.”

Logan smiled a little and brushed the hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “Okay.”

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you…” The question disappeared. “Stay with me.”

With his eyes fixed on yours, Logan nodded.

Laying down beside you, his arms wrapped around you whilst your legs tangled with his. And for a moment, he was transported back almost nine weeks ago when you and him had finally crossed the one line you both swore you’d never cross with each other, in a motel room, just off the highway leading back into New York.

Neither of you woke up until a few hours later where you found yourself lay on your side, Logan’s arm around your middle with his hand gently pressed to your belly, whilst he remained behind you, a little more on his front, his face half buried in his pillow.

Having felt you move, Logan stirred awake for a moment to fully turn onto his side. But you just kept looking at him.

Just like you had done almost ten weeks ago when you watched the sunlight that was beginning to peek through the curtains that never just quite shut all the way, dance across his bed-ridden hair and over the muscles in his back, ghosting over where the sheet was draped over his bottom half.

And just like then, you brushed a few of the stray hairs from his face, watching his too tired muscles unable to fight off the smile on his face whilst his hand came up and held yours against him for a moment before he kissed the centre of your palm.

“What time is it?”

“A little after four…I think. I don’t think the others are back yet.”

“I think we’d know if they were.” Logan joked a little before gazing at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think. A little less sick.”

“Good.”

You nodded for a moment before looking back at Logan. “I think I want to do this.”

Logan gave you a questioning look for a moment. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I’m sure. If you don’t want to-”

“I want to.”

It wasn’t ever a second thought for Logan when he had come to terms with you being pregnant, as well as him being the first to know. He would have supported any decision you made, but he couldn’t help but feel a little more than happy when you confirmed his question.

He had been in love with you ever since you had splattered midnight spaghetti sauce on your face from when you had slurped spaghetti. He had chuckled and wiped a spot from your chin with his thumb.

Of course, he wasn’t blind.

He had always found you attractive since he first met you, but becoming your friend and falling in love with you two years later over a bowl of spaghetti as you graded papers…that was something he could have only ever dreamed of.

That night, he thought about kissing you. But promised himself he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. You were both friends.

And when you both almost kissed after having stepped into him whilst you were both outside looking for logs to put on the fire pit outside, he had a strong feeling you felt what he was feeling, too.

But fear…stopped you both.

And Rogue’s voice from shouting for you both since you’d both been gone ten minutes longer than you had planned.

But that night in the motel room.

Neither of you could deny it anymore. And there was no one around to interrupt.

Maybe both of you wished it had happened a lot more smoothly. But neither of you could deny you weren’t not happy about what had happened.

“You want to?” You rallied his words back to him, trying not to smile too much.

Logan nodded. “I want to.”

“Good.”

“One thing,” you said. “What do we tell the others?”

“You didn’t tell anyone what happened?”

You shook your head. “No. Work kinda got in the way.”

Which it did. A few hours after the motel, you had both gotten a call to get back to the school as quickly as you could. And work got too busy, neither you or Logan had time to talk about what happened and before you both knew it, it got too late to mention it again.

“Did you?”

Logan shook his head. “No.”

“This is gonna be a shock to their system.”

You nodded in agreement. “Maybe we don’t tell them so soon. At least wait until the twelve week scan.”

“Agreed. Accept-”

“Jean’s got to know.”

Logan nodded and clicked his teeth.

“But we can trust her. Maybe we’ll just have to corner her in her lab before she and Scott have lunch together.”

Logan nodded. “Good idea. Does the lab even have a sonogram machine?”

You reeled back a little. “Logan…”

“What? I might have…read…a couple of books.”

You could help but smile. “You read books? On pregnancy?”

Logan shrugged, once again trying to hide his smile. “Had to know if I was right about you being pregnant. And if I was, I wanted to know…what to expect. Just because I’m nearly 200 years old doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing.”

“And the entire world takes a sigh of relief. Even the oldest man in the world doesn't know what he’s doing. Maybe we don’t have to have it all figured out right now.”

Logan smiled, his hand pressing gently against the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe we don’t.”

“But we’re gonna do this together?”

Logan gave you a nod and smiled. “We’re gonna do this together.”

By the time the others got back, Logan was on cooking duty since the smell of everything was sending you into waves of sickness once again, until Logan handed you a small bag of sweets with a couple of pretzels inside that helped curb your cravings and settled the sickness.

And, just like you had said, you found Jean in her lab just a little after Scott had left and told her what she needed to know.

Within moments she had you lay on the examination table and Logan wheeled a chair over to be by your side whilst she scanned your stomach to find your uterus.

“Have to say, you two took your time.”

“Huh?”

Jean smiled. “Rogue was sure something had happened that night at the firepit when she went to find you two. When she finds out she’s gonna be thrilled something did finally happen.”

You and Logan looked at each other. “Other than Rogue…how many people think that…”

“You two would finally stop being idiots and do something about it?” Jean clicked a couple of buttons on the monitor. “Everyone.”

“Everyone?!”

Jean smiled. “Yep. And now they’re gonna be thrilled. Take a look.”

Jean explained what you were looking at. “See, here their head, and their feet. They look pretty comfortable there, tucked up nice and cosy.”

Jean did a couple other things whilst you and Logan looked at the screen, Logan’s hand taking yours in his before he kissed your palm again.

“Wow…she’s so small.”

You looked at Logan with a smile, and tears in your eyes. “What makes you so certain it's a girl?”

Logan shrugged. “I just do.”

Squeezing his hand, you smiled and looked back at the monitor.

“I’d put you at about a little over nine weeks. We should be able to hear a heartbeat.”

You looked a little shocked, not expecting to hear a heartbeat so soon. But Jean found it and…you breathed. Or maybe you held it. You weren’t quite sure.

“Stay still,” Jean laughed a little.

“Sorry,” you apologised.

Logan held onto your hand, tears forming in his own eyes. But for two reasons. One; finally being close to you, seeing your baby and hearing their heartbeat. And two; the small thumping Logan had heard every time he was around you, almost like an echo of your own – or maybe his – had been your baby.

The baby you were having together.

He had been hearing their heartbeat for almost a week.

“Logan…that’s our baby.”

There was no stopping his smile. “That’s our baby.”

With his other hand at the back of your head, his thumb making familiar strokes back and forth, he kissed you and you squeezed his hand a little tighter, never wanting to let go.

“I’ll set this recording for you and print off a couple of pictures. Congratulations guys. You’ve got a very healthy baby.”

Jean did as she said she would and by the time you were clean of the gel and sat back up with Logan standing by your side, Jean gave you a couple of information booklets.

“I think Logan’s already got most of it covered,” you said with a smile, catching his slightly sheepish look. “But thank you.”

Jean hugged both of you. “Congrats guys, and don’t worry. They won’t hear anything from me.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

By the time you both got back to your room, you had one picture, as did Logan however the third one, Logan kept looking at.

Without saying anything, you both came to an agreement and it wasn’t long before you found who you were looking for.

Closing the library door, you checked all the spaces before confirming both yourself, Logan and Rogue were alone.

“What’s going on?”

Coming to a stand, Rogue stood in front of Logan and you rounded the table to stand beside him.

He held out the picture. “We wanted to give you this. Figured you should be the first to know…apart from Jean.”

Rogue took the photo in her hands from Logan, it taking a minute before it all finally clicked in her head and confirmed what she was looking at.

Baby Y/L/N HOWLETT printed in bold white ink in the corner.

Rogue burst into a smile and let out a small laugh before hugging both of you quickly. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

“But you can’t tell anyone.” Logan told her. “At least not yet.”

Rogue shook her head. “I-I won’t. I promise. Oh my god!”

She hugged you both again before stepping back.

“I knew something was going on between you two! Congrats, guys! Oh, my god! This is just…incredible. Insane.” Then she calmed down for a moment. “Thank you for telling me.”

Logan shrugged. “Figured the kid’s Aunt would want to know first.”

Rogue smiled even brighter and then looked down at the picture lovingly. “When do you find out the gender?”

“In a couple of weeks,” you smiled, holding onto Logan’s hand and arm. “But he thinks it’s a girl.”

“You do?” Rogue asked, with a smile still prominent on her face. “You two are gonna make the best parents.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks, Kid.”

And she was right.

As was Logan when, only a few weeks later, Jean confirmed that you both were in fact going to be the proud parents of a baby girl.

And by the time it came round to you giving birth, you may have bruised Logan’s hand as well as scared Scott into never watching a horror movie where a woman gives birth, ever again.

Bobby had been the first to find you when you went into labour. You were hunched over the counter in the kitchen, holding onto your belly.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You managed to shake your head. “No.”

Then your waters broke.

“Oh, uh, okay. Okay. Rogue!”

Practically sliding around the door, Rogue saw what was happening. “Oh, crap. Okay. Bobby, go and find Logan.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“He’s…” you grunted through the pain. Jean had warned you that having a baby with one mutant parent might speed things along, but two?

As you had gathered from Jean’s easy let down…

You were fucked.

“Ugh.” You grunted. “He’s…he’s out in the gardens…they had trouble…ahh…they had trouble moving…”

“Just breathe.” Rogue assured you. “Bobby, go.”

And he did.

“Okay, we’re gonna get you downstairs. I’ll call Jean.”

Twenty minutes later, Jean was back from her store run and rushed inside the school only to nearly collide into Logan.

“Where is she? I can’t find her.”

“Rogue helped her down to the lab.”

When Jean and Logan finally ran inside, they found you bracing yourself on the bed as Rogue rubbed up and down your back and you felt the pain kick up a notch.

“They’re here! They’re here. Logan.”

Logan was already on it, replacing Rogue’s hand with his own in yours. “Where the hell were you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“How’s your pain?” Jean asked, walking back inside in her scrubs.

“Ever been kicked by a horse in your pelvis?”

Another contraction started up and as you held onto Logan’s hand, you braced yourself on his other arm.

Jean gave a hidden laugh from your comment and started setting everything up.

“Just tell me when the pain stops and we can get you moved onto the bed.”

It took a moment but eventually it slowed and, with Logan’s help, you got into the hospital bed and Jean checked you over.

It was a few more hours before you were ready to push.

“No, I can’t. It hurts.”

“Just a few more pushes. Come on, you can do it.”

Logan held onto your hand whilst his other arm supported you around your shoulders and back. “You can do it. Just a couple more and it’ll be over.”

You groaned. “Why can’t we be seahorses? The males have to push and they’re only pregnant for ten days.”

Logan could help but laugh a little. “We can always get Chuck to come down and narrate this. He’s no David Attenbourogh but he is English.”

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed a little. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m in enough pain as it is.”

Another contraction started up and you began to push again.

“That’s it! Good…just a little longer.”

Fifteen minutes later the room was filled with the cries of a newborn baby girl and you felt yourself cry a sigh of relief, joy and worry.

“You did it, honey.” Logan kissed your temple. “You did it.”

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

Jean smiled and nodded. “She’s perfect. Dad? Want to do the honours?”

Logan kissed you and walked over towards Jean, his hands trailing away from yours before reaching for the scissors Jean handed him.

Cutting the cord, Jean hurried to weigh and measure your daughter as quickly as she could before handing her over to you for skin to skin contact.

“Oh my god, she’s beautiful.”

Logan was crying tears of happiness. “She looks just like her Momma.”

“Congrats, you guys.”

“Thank you.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off of her. She was…everything.

Logan sat beside you on the bed, his arm above your head and the other around both of you. He saw you in her, but you saw him.

“You guys picked a name yet?” Jean asked, standing on the other side of the bed, the camera by her side from where she’s taken a couple of photos already.

Both yourself and Logan had been quiet about the names you had picked.

“We haven’t decided yet.” Logan told her, his eyes never leaving his daughter.

“But whatever it is, Marie is going to be her middle name.”

Jean smiled and took yet another picture. Everyone had been waiting years for this moment, for you and Logan to finally get together, for you both finally to realise you were both always meant to be, even before either of you knew it.

They were going to want pictures to keep forever of this moment.

As were you two.

And the ones Jean took were just the first of many to be taken, from everyone holding her beside you and Logan, to the big family photo with her in Logan’s arms, to the one you would always keep by your bedside of Logan holding his daughter for the first time. To birthday’s, Christmases, Easter, family dinners, first steps, first words.

The others that made a small collection in your memory box for her, where she’s learning to walk, holding onto Logan’s fingers, climbing up her dad and going over his shoulder, finding easter eggs with Logan and Rogue, sitting in Xavier’s lap at his desk, learning to bake for the first time – a picture you didn’t know existed until you found it in the small box Logan had been keeping. He had taken the picture of you and her when you weren’t looking and had multiple copies.

There was a picture of every moment and every memory that both of you would always treasure forever.

And even when the sleepless nights felt endless, neither of you wanted to change it for the world.

1K notes · View notes

ham-st4r · 4 months

Text

Coffee & Cream - L. HS

Pairing: virgin heeseung + virgin female reader!

Warnings: love making, unprotected intimacy, angst, lots of crying, jealously, cursing, verbal and physical abuse, alcohol, blood, violence, assault, injuries, police, pet abuse, pregnancy, lots of fluff, heeseung is adopted, homelessness, slowest of slow burn, fairytale, they both just little softies for each other.

Summary: one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.

Number of words: 36k+?

Note: Hello, everyone. Here It is, finally. I’m so happy with how it turned out. This is by far my favorite story of all, so I hope you enjoy it. sorry for the long wait; I just wanted it to be perfect, and I think I achieved that. Please, please, please reblog and leave feedback. I put a lot into this, so I’d love to hear all of your opinions. With that being said, thank you all for being patient with me. I present to you

“Coffee & Cream”

Find your way around!

9:03 pm

You were on your way home from work with nothing but the idea of sleep on your mind after the tiresome shift you had just finished working. You walked a few blocks down the road, arriving at the bus stop minutes later. You reached for your bag to get your payment ready, and that's when you realized you had forgotten it at work, which left you with absolutely no money for the bus and instead of going back to the cafe you worked at to get your bag you opted to power through the walk home, even though your feet were killing you. "Come on, y/n, you got this, just a little longer." You gave yourself a pep talk on the way there. It wasn't that long of a walk from the cafe, so you'd be home soon enough. It was just very inconvenient.

You picked up your pace a bit. After all, it was well past nine, and you didn't know what kind of danger you might run into, especially as a woman walking alone at night.

Walking further down the road, you slowed your steps when you saw a man bent over rummaging through a trash bin, and your heart immediately softened.

You assumed he was probably searching for empty cans to collect money or maybe even something to eat, which made you undeniably sad.

You always had a soft spot for the homeless and less fortunate, and whenever you could, you'd always lend them a helping hand, not only cause you would want someone to do the same for you if you were in their situation but also because you were a person with a big heart and you wanted to give back when and wherever you could.

You reached for your bag again to give the man some money, but obviously, it wasn't there cause you had negligently left it at work. "Darn," you sighed softly. You contemplated going back, but by now, they had probably already closed down for the night, and you didn't want to trouble the employees who were cleaning and getting ready to go home.

You patted down all your pockets in search of spare change, and to your luck and the homeless man's luck, you found two whole dollars, which, now that you thought about it, you could have used for the bus, but oh well, it was going to better use now anyways. "Excuse me, sir," you said softly as you walked towards the unknown man. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to give this to you."

"I don't need your help," he replied in a harsh tone, making you frown instantly, you thought he would have been happy to receive the money, but he almost sounded offended that you even offered.

However, you didn't let it get your mood down. You just left the two bills on the bench next to him and continued your journey home.

Heeseung took a glance at your back while you walked home, then at the money you had set down, and as much as he didn't want to, he took the two dollars you gave him cause he knew he'd be looking for bottles and cans till early morning just to get enough to buy himself some dinner for the night.

He zipped up his hoodie and went to the convenience store across the street, grabbing three items off the shelf and paying for them. With the money you gave him, he bought two cups of ramen and a single meat stick.

He walked to the back of the store and prepared the noodles. Once they were done, he sat down in the corner of the store, slurping up the ramen within just a few minutes. He hadn't eaten in three whole days, and he cherished every last bite of that meal. Finally, he could get some peace and quiet without his stomach rumbling every other minute.

Once he finished eating, he left the store, blowing a deep breath into the chilly night air as he headed back to what he called home, which was an alleyway that was only a few blocks from the convenience store.

He whistled down the narrow path, and he couldn't help but smile as he heard the familiar sound of a mental chain rustling against the pavement. "Hey, boy!" He kneeled down in front of his dog, Mylo, who was giving him thousands of little kisses everywhere. "Did you miss me?" Mylo jumped on his lap and licked all over his cheeks excitedly. "Yes, you did," heeseung giggled. "I got you something!" He pulled the beef stick from his pocket, and Mylo's ears perked up at the sound of the plastic being torn. "Here you go, buddy!" Mylo was absolutely ravenous, and ten seconds didn't even pass before the whole thing was completely devoured.

Heeseung couldn't help but feel bad as Mylo sniffed the empty packaging, searching for more food. "I'm sorry, Buddy, that's all there is". Mylo let out a sad whimper, nudging the empty plastic with his nose, and his ears drooped down when he realized there was nothing left. "I know, I know, come here." heeseung wrapped Mylo up in his arms, stroking his back while he hugged him. "Don't be sad, buddy. Daddy's got an interview in a few days, and we'll be off the street in no time. You'll have more dog treats than you even know what to do with promise," Mylo's eyes lit up at the mention of dog treats, one of the few words he actually understood. "Yeah, you like the idea of that, huh?" Heeseung said with a chuckle, reaching into his dingy bag and grabbing Mylo's makeshift dog bowl, which was made of a gallon jug with the top half cut off. He filled it with some sink water he got from the convenience store and served it to Mylo. "Drink up," he said, lying down on his sleeping bag. He released a deep sigh while Mylo lapped up his water.

Heeseung wasn't always homeless, but that didn't mean his life was any better than it was out here on the streets.

After all, being adopted into an abusive family wasn't his ideal childhood, nor was it an experience that he wished for; nevertheless, he didn't have a choice but to live with them after his biological parents so willingly gave him away.

He doesn't know why his real parents would have a child and then just throw them into the world to grow up with complete strangers.

A part of him wanted to know why, but he wasn't ready for the truth cause he was afraid that the answer would be far from good.

He knew he wouldn't be able to accept it, knowing that his parents had him by mistake, or maybe he would just be a burden to them, or maybe they abandoned him cause they just didn't love him.

No matter the reason, he was too scared to find out, so he convinced himself that maybe they just didn't have money to feed an extra mouth, or maybe his parents were too busy and they gave him to an adoption center so he could find a loving family that would take care of him.

Those all sounded better than all the previous options, so as the years passed by, he never resented his parents for giving him up for adoption. Instead, he created a good image of them in his head and believed strongly that no matter where they were, they were thinking about him and loving him from afar.

And that positivity is what kept him going for so long. It's what made him the man he is today. Well, that and Mylo.

Even growing up with adoptive parents who abused him, he always looked on the bright side, but he could only take so much, and after the verbal abuse turned physical, he walked out without looking back. There was no way he could stay there. The only thing he took with him was his dog Mylo, who was always by his side through thick and thin.

Heeseung remembers the first and only time when his father hit him. He was playing around the house with his basketball ball, and being a careless young kid having fun, he accidentally threw the ball across the living room and shattered his father's 75" TV. As soon as the TV hit the floor, he knew that he was in big trouble, so he ran to the dining room and hid under the kitchen table, attempting to hide from his dad. Needless to say, that wasn't much of a shelter cause his dad easily yanked the chairs from the table and pulled him out by his leg.

He remembers crying in fear and apologizing over and over again. He begged his father not to hit him, but his dad didn't listen, and he pulled his belt from the loops on his pants, whipping him countless times with the leather, leaving large welts all over his small arms and legs. "No wonder your parents gave you up. You're nothing but a useless pain in the ass," his dad yelled at him as he continued hitting him.

That incident is how heeseung found out that he was adopted in the first place, and he cried even harder as he laid there and took every blow, too shocked by the devastating news to even fight back.

Soon, the blows came to a sudden stop, and he heard Mylo growling. Everything had happened so fast, and before he knew it, Mylo was biting his dad on his arm, sinking his large fangs and puncturing his dad's flesh. "Ow, get off me, you stupid dog!" His dad then turned to Mylo and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying across the room and making him whimper in pain. "I'm not done with you, you hear me." he pointed his finger in the crying boy's face, and little did anyone know that would be the last time heeseung saw his family.

Mylo ran over to heeseung, nudging his cheek with his muzzle.

Heeseung overheard his dad calling his mother, and that's when he used the chance to escape. He ran out the front door with Mylo and his leash, and that was the start of his homelessness.

But he didn't have a choice. It was either to get abused or run away, and running away seemed like the safer option.

Despite being homeless, he wouldn't change his mind about the decision he made all those years ago. Living out here was hard, but living with people who were supposed to love you but treated you like you were less than human was harder than anything he'd ever faced in his entire life. He expected that from strangers, not family.

Once Mylo finished his water, he snuggled up next to heeseung, licking his cheek a few times before resting his head on his chest. "Goodnight, boy." heeseung kissed his head and shielded him from the cold air with his shaggy hoodie. Today was rough, but at least they had food in their stomachs, and at this point, Heeseung couldn't ask for more as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

☕️.

"Can this place get any busier?" You said to yourself as you heard the doorbell ring, indicating that more customers were flooding into the small cafe.

"I'd say so," your co-worker Sunghoon replied as a group of students came bustling through the very busy doors one after the other. "No break for us" he chuckled and made his way over to the cash register.

"Tell me about it," you say as you finish cleaning the dishes and get everything ready to prepare the nonstop orders coming in.

A few minutes later, sunghoon came to the back, dragging his feet with his shoulders slumped. "Can you take orders for me, and I'll make them? I think my head is going to explode if I hear iced Americano one more time." he sighed and rubbed his temples in exhaustion. "Where's Niki when you need him?"

“Off enjoying his vacation remember?” You chuckled softly. "Hang in there." You pat his shoulder. "Only five more hours," you say, adding to his misery.

"Now, why would you remind me? Like seriously, what is wrong with you?" He glared at you, but you knew he was only kidding, partially anyway.

You giggled at his expression on your way out of the back to switch places with him and take orders.

That's just the relationship you had with each other day in and day out. Joking about each other's misery was what got you through the long and dreadful days of working at the cafe; some days were good, some days were bad, and some days, like today, were the definition of hell.

Surprisingly enough, it came to an end much sooner than you had both expected, but the time does fly when you're busy. "We don't get paid enough for this," Sunghoon grumbled while wiping down the last table as it was now closing time.

"But it pays the bills," you chimed as you cleared the register.

"That it does," he hummed. "I'll finish closing for the night. You should head home before it gets any darker," he advises, knowing you normally walk or take the bus home.

"Aww, sunghoon, you're the best," you squeal. "You're always so considerate."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, but you could tell deep down he was happy by the little smile forming on his lips.

"Lunch is on me tomorrow. You can get anything you want," You promise.

"I'm holding you to it!" he shouted so you could hear him in the back as you gathered your belongings, not forgetting your bag like the last time.

"See you tomorrow!" You waved on your way out.

"See you, y/n. Be safe." he waved bye after he let you out and locked the doors behind you.

You shivered as the cold wind blew across your face. It was chilly but somehow refreshing after being cooped up all day. You breathed in the night air and decided to walk home again instead of taking the bus after your busy day. Tonight, you would like to take a break from being surrounded by so many people.

You took the same sidewalk home as before, and just like last night, you saw the same man from yesterday digging in another garbage bin.

You automatically reached inside your purse and took out the first bill you found, which just so happened to be twenty dollars. Despite the questionable pay at the cafe, you did make great money in tips, so twenty dollars was really nothing to fret about for you. "Here you go, sir," you said politely.

Heeseung turned around at the sound of a familiar voice, and he saw you standing there, extending your hand out to him with a twenty-dollar bill. He knew you were the same girl from last night cause of your work attire. He couldn't understand why you were trying to help him. Most people didn't even look his way, let alone give him any change when he begged for it, so why were you? Especially after the way he treated you last night.

He looked at you, a blank expression on his face while you smiled genuinely and beckoned him to take the money.

Before heeseung could tell you off, Mylo's ears perked up at the sound of your voice, and he jumped off the bench to greet you, nearly tackling you in the process. "Woah! Where did you come from?" You giggled as he slobbered all over your face. You didn't mind it at all. You had a German shepherd at home, and she was the same exact way every time you got back home from work. "What's your name, Hmm?" You talked to him in a cutesy voice while you patted his head, searching for a name tag, but you frowned when you didn't see one.

"Mylo!" Heeseung said sternly and tried to tug him back, but he wouldn't listen. Usually, He was a very well-trained and well-behaved dog, but sometimes, even Heeseung couldn't get him to listen. "I'm so sorry," heeseung said to you as he grabbed Mylo by his collar and held him back.

"It's quite alright. Nice meeting you, Mylo." You waved to him while heeseung held him back. "Here, take it." You extended your hand once again, giving him the twenty-dollar bill.

"I'm fine," heeseung declined rudely and turned around, getting ready to walk back home empty-handed.

"You may be fine, but what about that guy? A big dog like him, I'm sure he's hungry all the time," you reasoned cause you could literally feel his spine when you were petting him, and you're sure he probably needed to eat even more than your shepherd and that's saying a lot considering she ate pretty heartily.

Heeseung took a peek at Mylo, and you were right. He was huge, and Heeseung knew he wasn't getting half the nutrition he needed, especially with the fall coming soon, so he reluctantly took the cash. It was humiliating to accept help from others, but he swallowed his pride for Mylo's sake. "Say thank you," heeseung said to Mylo, and he walked towards you, brushing his head against your leg before going back to heeseung's side, panting softly and waging his tail excitedly.

You smiled at how well he was trained. Your dog definitely wasn't as well behaved as him. She was actually clumsy and quite the opposite. "Well, have a good night," you said to heeseung, and he just nodded his head. "And you too, Mylo." You continued your short walk home, and once you arrived, you could hear your fluffy friend barking and scratching from outside the door. "Hi!" You said excitedly as you opened the door and greeted her.

She sniffed you intensely. At first, you were confused by her odd behavior, but realized that she was probably smelling Mylo's strong scent on you. She looked at you and tilted her head to the side with what you assumed to be curiosity. "Yeah, I met a dog just like you," you said in a baby voice. "He was big and brown and cute." She sat down in front of you, wagging her tail excitedly. "And his name is Mylo…" you trailed off as you thought about the similarities in their names. "Mylo and Myla, what a coincidence," you said as you walked over to your kitchen and refilled her food and water bowls. "Maybe you two could meet sometime," you said out loud, but she paid no attention to you as she dug into her food straight away. "Oh, I see, you're too good for boys, huh?" You laughed and patted her head before going to your living room and plopping down on the couch. "What is there to watch?" you scrolled through endless shows, and before something piqued your interest, you had dozed off on the couch with the TV still on.

☕️.

Later that same night, heeseung went to the convenience shop and bought some proper food for Mylo. "Wait here," he said to Mylo and tied his leash to the bike rack outside before going into the store.

Once he grabbed the bag of dog food, he went straight to the register to pay, not without getting a judging look from the cashier first, but that was nothing new to him. If the number of glares he received were in the form of a dime, he'd be rich.

Kind of ironic.

"Your total is 8,59$" the cashier mumbled, and heeseung handed him the twenty dollar bill that you had given to him.

He looked out the store window while he was getting rung up and saw a group of boys surrounding the bike rack where he'd left Mylo. He stretched his neck to see if anything was happening, and he heard loud barking just a few seconds later. "Mylo!" He gasped in panic and ran out of the store immediately. All of the kids quickly scattered and ran near some bushes at the back of the store where they couldn't be spotted. "Hey!" Heeseung called out to them, but he didn't see the direction where they had all run off to. He just hoped they were long gone from the area. "Are you okay, buddy?" He bent down worriedly, checking Mylo for any injuries, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found none, but unfortunately, they had cut big patches out of his fur, destroying his lovely coat. "Oh, thank god," he whispers, hugging Mylo tightly while on his knees. "You're too nice, boy. You should have bit the crap out of 'em" he laughed quietly and stroked his back. "I'll be right back, okay?"

He quickly ran back into the store to grab the food and his change, making sure to check the window every second in case the kids came back. "Time to go home and have dinner." heeseung left the store and unhooked Mylo's leash, walking him across the street to the alleyway they stayed at. Little did he know the same kids from the earlier saw exactly where he and Mylo went.

"Look what I got!" He said excitedly while pouring Mylo a bowl of kibble. "Eat up." heeseung patted his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he watched Mylo digging in. "It's good, huh?" He chuckled. "Yeah, it is."

After Mylo ate, heeseung spent the rest of the night cuddling with him and singing him many different songs until they both drifted off to sleep together.

☕️.

You awoke to your face being licked and slobber wetting your cheeks, and, of course, you knew who the culprit was. "Good morning to you, too, myla." You sat up and stretched, looking at the time and seeing that you overslept for the millionth time this week. "Are you kidding me?" You rubbed your eyes tiredly. "Myla, why did you let me oversleep?" You played with her floppy ears, and she just wagged her tail, not understanding a lick of what you were saying.

You did your morning routine faster than the speed of light, and you spilled not only water but her kibble as well in your hurry so as not to be late for work. "Sorry, myla, see you later!" After you left, she curled up by the front door and huffed out a breath, missing you already.

You made it to work right on time, and the store was packed just like yesterday. Your brain was scattered from it still being early in the morning, but as soon as you punched in, you somehow managed to put on your apron, compose yourself, and take orders efficiently.

You knew the day would be a long, tiring one.

☕.

"Wait for me here, Buddy, and don't be noisy. Daddy will be back soon, okay?" Mylo sat down obediently while heeseung shielded him from the wind and made his way out of the alley.

He went to the nearest bus stop and waited impatiently for the bus to arrive. About five minutes later, he bought a ticket and was boarding to head to his job interview.

He took his seat and looked outside the window, enjoying the ride and scenery. Riding the bus definitely beats walking, but he didn’t have the luxury to ride it every day; he would only take the bus on special occasions like today.

Fifteen minutes later, the bus stopped and dropped him off at his designated location.

He walked into the tall building, taking one long breath, preparing himself for the interview before going to the restrooms to freshen himself up.

He quickly brushed his teeth as best as he could without a toothbrush and washed his face with hand soap from the dispenser. He sighed at his dingy appearance. Dark eye bags, unruly hair, and a scruffy face stared back at him in the reflection. "You can do this," he mumbled to himself and turned off the water, slicking his hair back with his fingers and changing into a cleaner shirt he kept in his backpack.

He exited the bathroom and went to the front desk to inform the receptionist of his upcoming interview. "Hi, my name is heeseung. I have an interview at four thirty with Mrs. Kim," he spoke softly to the receptionist as she typed in some information and made a phone call. "Take a seat anywhere you like, and she'll be right with you, sir."

"Thank you." heeseung smiled politely and took a seat.

A few moments later, a woman looking to be in her mid-forties approached him. "Hi! You must be heeseung?" She asked, extending her hand for him to shake.

"Y-yes, hello," heeseung replied nervously.

"Right this way." She led him to the back where her office was and shut the door behind him. "Have a seat." She sat down after him, leafing through some files. "Mmm," she frowned when she didn't see a resume under his name.

Heeseung gulped, nervously bouncing his leg up and down.

"I'm not seeing your resume." She looked through more documents and still came up with nothing.

"I uhh don't have any prior experience, ms." he looked down at his lap; whatever confidence he had completely disappeared at that moment.

"Well, you must have some prior experience in the work field. Tell me about your previous jobs." She closes the folder and places it on her desk, looking at him with a smile.

"This is the first time I've ever been interviewed," he said quietly. "I've never worked before."

Heeseung shifted uncomfortably when she looked over his appearance. "First time for everything, I suppose. What about school? Did you get a GED or graduate?"

"No, ms" he shook his head, and he had a bad feeling about what was going to come next.

Ms Kim let out a long sigh and rested back in her chair. "Well, heeseung, I'm sure you're a fine young man, but without any credentials, I simply cannot hire you for this job because we require a high level of education along with years of experience with very few exceptions in between,"

"But ms, please, I need this job. I can learn if you just give me a chance, I promise," he pleads.

"I'm sorry, but our company policies state otherwise. If it were up to me, I'd give you a shot, but-"

"You don't understand I need this job. I'll do anything, please, I beg of you," he says, desperation seeping into his tone.

"I'm sorry heeseung-"

"Sorry isn't going to fix my situation!" He raised his voice. "I can't live out there anymore. Do you hear me? I need to get off the street. It's not safe for me or my dog."

"Sir-"

"Please, ms! I have nothing! Can't you see?" He begged desperately, tears gathering in his eyes cause this was the one opportunity he needed to get on his feet, and he could feel it slipping out of his grasp.

Ms Kim had already hit the security button under her desk, and heeseung was being held back by his arms within seconds. "Get off me. I'm not doing anything wrong, ms Kim. Please give me a chance. I'll do anything." Tears rolled down his face as he got escorted out of the building by security. Once they had kicked him out, he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Fuck!" He yelled and punched the side of the building, gaining the attention of the other citizens passing by, but he didn't care.

"Just fucking great," he said once he cooled down a bit and took a look at his wounded hand. He trudged down the sidewalk, completely demotivated, as he returned to the bus stop. "No job, no money, and an injured hand," he mumbled to himself on the way there, and he hung his head low while boarding the bus. "At least Mylo's waiting for me at home," he says, trying to look on the bright side of his very, very shitty day.

He stepped off the bus when it came to a complete stop. He was about to walk home, but his stomach growled. He tried to ignore it, but after he took another step, it happened again and again and again.

He supposed he should probably get something to eat cause it has been a full day without food, and he knew his stomach wouldn't stop until he got some type of nutrition in his body. Thankfully, he still had eleven dollars and some change from the money you'd given him the other night, so he could make good use of that.

He took in his surroundings; there was a small cafe a few blocks away, and he could definitely use a coffee to boost his rotten mood.

☕️.

You finally got a break between customers, but soon enough, the bell rang again, and you saw a man walk in. You did a double take, and if your eyes weren't mistaken, it was the homeless man you had been giving money to the past few nights. He looked a little better today, which made you smile brightly before walking to the register to take his order. "Hello sir, what can I get started on for you?" You asked politely and awaited his order.

He finally made eye contact with you and recognized that you were the girl who had been giving him money the past few nights. "I'll have a small black coffee and a breakfast sandwich, please." he places his order.

You nodded with a smile and gave him his total. "That will be 6.03$."

He reached into his pocket, searching for the money, and his brows creased in confusion when he only saw a five and some change. It didn't take long for him to realize what had happened at the store last night. He didn't look at his cash back before leaving and must've been shorted on his change. "That fucker” he mumbled under his breath, and that was the last straw for him today.

"It's on me, so don't worry about it," you said kindly when you saw he didn't have enough money to pay, but it was fine. You'd be more than happy to pay for his meal and make his day just a little bit easier on him.

"I already told you I don't need your fucking help!" He yelled, drawing attention to himself at the register. "Just mind your own fucking business and leave me alone. I'm pathetic enough; I don't need your pity." You flinched at his harsh tone, and he turned away from the register, storming out of the cafe, leaving you shocked and rendered speechless.

"What a fucking psycho," Sunghoon said, appearing from the back after hearing all the ruckus upfront. "Sorry, I couldn't come sooner. Are you okay?" He asked and patted your back comfortingly.

"Y-yeah, just a little startled, that's all." You blinked a few times to try and collect yourself from the homeless man's sudden outburst.

"Do you know him? What did he mean by not wanting your help?" Sunghoon asked curiously.

"I… don't want to talk about it right now." Sunghoon immediately backed off when he saw the uncomfortable look on your face.

"Hey, why don't you take a break? It's slowed down a bit, so I can handle the register," He offers.

"Thanks, hoon," you said with a small smile, still a bit miffed by what just happened.

☕.

"Hey, Mylo," heeseung mumbled. Once he returned home, Mylo perked up, greeting him with kisses immediately. "No kisses for me today, Buddy. Daddy's been a very bad man," he sighed and laid on his sleeping bag, trying to close his eyes and sleep. However, it was far too noisy at this time of day, and his stomach still wouldn't stop growling, but after the shit day he had, he didn't feel like going out to eat or search for cans.

Time seemed to pass by slower than ever, especially with the mood he was in, but at least Mylo seemed happy eating his kibble.

He thought about everything that happened earlier today, and no matter what, he couldn't get the look of your startled face out of his head or the way he unintentionally harassed ms Kim. He's lucky he just got kicked out and nothing more. "I'm such an asshole" heeseung covered his face with his palms sighing out loud.

Mylo nudged his elbow, but Heeseung still wouldn't budge. He kept his face down as tears gathered in his eyes.

Today was probably the worst day he'd ever had, and everything just kept piling up on him day by day.

He couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, there wasn't even a tunnel at this point, and if Mylo wasn’t with him, he probably would have given up a long time ago.

His adoptive dad was right.

He was useless.

After his breakdown, the sun had set, and he was finally able to get some sleep once the lively city died down, but not for long.

Heeseung woke up later that night from the feeling of something touching him and disturbing his sleep. "Mylo?" He said groggily, and his eyes couldn't even adjust before he felt a hard kick on his stomach, making him groan in pain.

"Wakey wakey asshole," Heeseung popped up but was instantly thrown back down and kicked in the chest multiple times. He tried to lift his fist, but someone had him pinned down arm by arm, and he was absolutely defenseless.

The last thing he heard was Mylo's barking before he passed out from a brutal blow to the face.

He woke up at god knows what time to Mylo sitting on top of him and nuzzling his face into his neck. "Thank goodness you're okay." heeseung hugged Mylo tightly, breathing a sigh of relief, as Mylo whimpered at his owner's tattered face and poor condition. "Don't be sad. Daddy's fine. I can take a hit, you know that."

Heeseung tried his best to stand up but he underestimated his injuries. "Ow! fuck!” he grimaced in pain as he fell back down, coughing uncontrollably from all the hits he took right in the center of his frail chest.

There was no way he could go back to sleep like this and possibly get into even more danger, and he couldn't waste a whole night without looking for any form of money, and Mylo's food was already running dangerously low.

He willed himself to stand up after a minute, and he untied Mylo, hobbling down the alleyway and getting ready to go on his nightly hunt for money.

Halfway down the street, he had to sit down and take a breather on one of the benches because the pain had started to really set in. "Daddy needs a minute." he tugged Mylo's collar, and he came back, sitting next to heeseung on the bench. "We're going to get lucky tonight, boy, I just know it." even though he knew his words held no real stock, he said them out loud to reassure and convince himself to believe those words were true just so he could keep going.

He heard the sound of footsteps growing nearer, and he quickly got off the bench just in case the stranger would start any conflict. He was in no shape, or form to defend himself or Mylo after getting beat up so badly.

"Hey," you said, causing him to stop in his tracks when he heard your familiar voice.

He turned around and saw you standing there with a hardened expression, a bag in your left hand, and a coffee cup in your other. "Y-yes?" He answered softly, almost like he was scared of being scolded by you and ashamed to face you after what he did today.

"Despite you being rude earlier, I still got this for you." You showed him the two items in your hand. It was the exact order that he had placed earlier in the afternoon. "I thought about not even getting it for you, honestly, but before I misjudged you, I thought maybe you were just having a bad day," you said kindly, even though you were still kinda angry with him. "So, in case you are having a bad day, I bought this for you, hoping it'd turn your bad day into a good one."

He was hesitant about accepting help from you, but he decided to accept it this time since he rudely declined earlier.

He tried to grab the items from you, but he winced in pain. You frowned at the sight of clear discomfort on his face, and when he stepped a bit closer to you, the light from the street lamp hit his face just right. You could see bruises and cuts everywhere on his swollen face.

You gasped quietly as he took the items from your hands, and you didn't have time to react before he turned around and walked away. "Wait!" You stopped him and reached into your purse. "Here," you said, handing him a bag of dog treats you had bought earlier for the express purpose of giving them to Mylo.

"Thank you," he muttered. Mylo barked excitedly, knowing exactly what it was, and wagged his tail while sniffing the bag. "Let's go home, boy," he tugged on Mylo's leash, but he didn't budge. Heeseung looked behind his shoulder and saw Mylo rolling around at your feet, and you had ducked down to give him a belly rub. "Mylo!" Heeseung called to him sternly, and he retreated back to heeseung's side with a displeased yelp. "Let's go." with that, heeseung limped along the sidewalk, and you sighed sadly. He looked fine earlier, but now he looked bloody and bruised, and you didn't miss the bald patches on Mylo's back. You assumed someone had assaulted them, and your heart ached at the thought. You couldn't imagine how hard that must have been for them, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how scared they both were.

You knew he told you to mind your business, but how could you do it when he looked like he could barely even walk?

You sighed as you walked back home. You unlocked your door and were instantly greeted by Myla. "Hi, girly!" You said happily, and she nearly tackled you in excitement and started licking all over your face.

You smiled happily, but a few seconds later, it turned to a frown as you remembered poor little Mylo. He looked so excited to see new faces, and you couldn't help but think about how he and Myla would get along. They were both German shepherds and had the same playful personality, plus she would love the company.

Your thoughts wandered to what the homeless man's personality was. He seemed cold and harsh and mean, even a little scary, but with a sweetheart of a dog like that, you figured there had to be more layers to the mystery man.

Your thoughts went far beyond that, and you started thinking about if he was always homeless, what his story was, and how he got to be who he is today.

Strangely enough, your thoughts went to an even more personal place, and you found yourself thinking of how he looked when he entered the cafe. He was fairly tall. He had a slender build and quite a handsome face.

You shook your head, erasing that thought from your mind cause who the heck thinks like that about someone they don't even know? "Sleep, that's what I need, sleep." You slapped your cheeks lightly, convincing yourself that you were just tired, and that's why you were having such irrational thoughts so late at night.

But even as you laid your head on your pillow to go to sleep for the night, your mind was still stuck on the guy with the Shepard named Mylo.

☕.

Heeseung was more than floored when he ate the food you had bought for him. It was delicious, the best thing he's had in years. He doesn't know if it was cause you gave it to him or maybe it's just cause he was so hungry, who knows. "She's a nice girl, isn't she Mylo?" Heeseung said as he fed him the dog treats you had bought. "I can tell you like her." he chuckled and took a sip of the hot black coffee. "I like her too." Mylo tilted his head at the sudden change in heeseung's tone. It was a fond one, something neither of them was used to hearing. "What is it?" Mylo cut his eyes at heeseung and turned back to eating his treats. "Why are you looking at me like that? It's not like I like her like that or anything." heeseung put his hands up in defense as if Mylo actually understood what was being said. "What am I even saying?" he smiled, embarrassed as he caught himself thinking about you for no apparent reason. "She's just a nice girl," he convinces himself that that's all he thought of you.

Even if he did like you more than that, who is he kidding? He couldn't be a good boyfriend, let alone a man. He had no way to provide for you, no car, no job, no money, just his bummy self, and what girl would want someone useless like that?

He sighed at the thought as a feeling of loneliness crept up on him slowly but surely; nevertheless, he shook it off. He had Mylo, his best friend, and that was enough. Besides, he had enough things to worry about, and a relationship wasn't one. "No more treats, you're gonna get sick," he said as he took the bag of treats away from Mylo. He put them inside the brown bag you had given him earlier, and his eyes nearly bulged from his head when he saw a bunch of bills in the bottom of the bag that he somehow hadn't noticed until now, but he supposed he was so excited about eating that he barely even looked.

He excitedly dumped the cash on the ground and counted it as a hundred dollars in small bills. "We're rich, Mylo!" He jumped up from his sleeping bag, and Mylo, just as excited, stood up on his hind legs, putting his paws on his owner's shoulders. "We're rich, we're rich," he sang happily while dancing with Mylo. "We're rich, we're rich, we're rich." nothing but excited barks and laughter came from the alleyway as heeseung's and Mylo's night came to a very sweet end.

☕️.

For the next few weeks, you gave the homeless man and Mylo dinner. You got a free meal from the cafe every day, so it was nothing for you anyway. Plus, you were more than happy to do it for him even if you did have to pay for it. The genuine smile on his face was worth more than any dollar bill in the world. "Goodnight, Mylo," you said in the same baby voice that you used for Myla, and heeseung did his best to hold back a laugh, but nevertheless, he thought it was adorable.

"Say bye-bye, Mylo," heeseung said after a couple minutes of letting him play with you.

For the first time since you saw them, he actually seemed to be in a good mood, and it put you in a good mood, too. "Goodnight, mystery man," you said playfully.

He merely nodded and smiled before he walked back home.

☕️.

"He is kinda cute, and his smile is so sweet," you talked to yourself while you lay in bed after getting home later that night, still feeling giddy after the small yet sweet moment with the homeless man down the street.

Myla was sitting at the edge of the bed, just staring at you while you lay there with a smile on your face, reliving earlier events. "Hey, don't judge me," you pointed your finger in her face. "I'm sure you'd like Mylo too," you argued, and she still just stared at you. "Hey, I'm not the one sleeping on a jacket with his scent on it," you smiled proudly while Myla nuzzled her face into the jacket more. "You're so cute," you giggled and shut your lamp off, drifting to sleep, and it was no surprise who was on your mind before you closed your eyes.

☕️.

Heeseung's life at the moment is better than it has ever been, all thanks to you. He didn't have to be out late at night searching for money or food cause you had been providing him with it every day, and he was so thankful for that, more than words could even express, but the least he could do was go see you and apologize properly for the way he treated you in the beginning.

Finally, he could afford the basics that he needed.

Recently, he bought a new outfit, a simple white shirt, blue jeans, and a toothbrush and toothpaste to brush his teeth.

A few days later, he went to a rest stop and took a shower after what felt like years. It was quite far from him, but it was definitely worth the bus ride.

Once he was finished cleaning up, he couldn't help but smile at his appearance. When he saw his reflection in the mirror, he felt like a new man completely. He took the bus back home to get Mylo's approval first before going to the cafe to see you. "Okay, today is the day, Buddy. How do I look?" Heeseung asked Mylo as he did a little spin.

"Woof woof!" Mylo rubbed himself on heeseung's leg, giving what heeseung could only take as his approval.

"I'll be back soon, alright? You know the drill, okay? No noise." he rubbed Mylo's cheeks one last time before starting his journey to see you.

He decided to walk instead of wasting money on the bus because the walk was about ten minutes, give or take, and he was no stranger to walking.

The cafe bell rang, making you pop your head up, looking at the customer who entered, and you smiled in surprise when you saw handsome, or at least that's what you referred to him as in your head cause you still hadn't gotten his name yet.

"I'll take it," Sunghoon immediately interjected when he recognized the same man who came in a few weeks ago and yelled at you.

"It's okay, hoon, I got it," you assured him.

"Sure?" He asked one more time.

"Positive, we worked it out," you whispered, and sunghoon gave Heeseung one last look before walking away. "Hello!" You greeted him happily.

"H-hi," heeseung scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. You didn't even notice his stutter cause you were too focused on taking in his beauty in the daylight. "I-I just came here to apologize for the other day and all the trouble I caused. I was having a terrible day, and everything just kinda came tumbling down on me at once, and I know that's not an excuse to act the way I did. That's not like me at all, but yeah, I'm really sorry," he said sincerely.

He couldn't help but blush when you smiled at him so brightly. "Apology accepted…?" You trailed off, not knowing what to address him by.

"Oh! Heeseung, I'm heeseung," he chuckled after his initial awkward pause.

"Nice to finally meet you, mystery man." he chuckled at the nickname you'd given him.

"You too.." he squinted his eyes at your name tag. "Y/n," he said softly. There was another awkward pause before he cleared his throat. "I uhh also wanted to thank you for all you've done, and I'm f-forever grateful, but you don't have to."

"It's no problem," you told him truthfully, still admiring his looks. He looked so much healthier and happier than when you first met him, and that made you feel so warm inside, knowing you were assisting him in getting back on his feet.

"But-" he tried to protest, but you shut it down right away.

"Would you like to order anything" you cut him off before he could argue.

He dropped his shoulders in defeat. By now, he knew you wouldn't take no for an answer. "I guess I'll have a black coffee," his stomach grumbled on cue, letting you know he wanted more than just a coffee.

"Black coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Anything else?"

"No, mam," he laughed and reached for the money in his back pocket, but you had already cashed him out and went behind the counter to prepare his order.

Heeseung sighed softly. He had a tough time accepting your generosity, but he couldn't lie. It was so much nicer to finally have someone to rely on instead of doing literally everything on his own. Because of you, he could get more sleep. His dog was well-fed, and so was he.

He supposed if he thought about it long enough, he had taken all the burden on himself to provide cause no one on the street would even give him a dime, and when that happened, he turned his back on people just like his parents turned their backs on him. He took on all one hundred percent of the responsibility and made a living for Mylo and himself.

So when you showed him sympathy or kindness, he didn't know how to react cause it was a foreign concept to him. He just got upset and thought you were feeling pity for him, which made him feel weak and incapable of doing it alone. But, after getting to know you for a while, he was able to open up to the idea of getting help cause, to him, it seemed like you genuinely wanted to lend him a helping hand, not just cause you felt sorry for him, but cause you actually cared and that's all he's ever wanted was to be seen, heard, and cared for, and well, here you are, doing all that for him and so much more.

You were smiling absentmindedly as you put a free pastry in his bag along with his sandwich. "You're in rare form today," Sunghoon chimed.

"Hmm," you hummed in agreement, neatly packing heeseung's food.

"Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain handsome customer, would it?" He teased.

"Nope, nothing at all," you lied, and Sunghoon could see right through it.

"Sureeeeeee," you both came out from the back, and you slapped sunghoons shoulder playfully as he teased you.

"I don't blame you." he put his hands up In defense with a chuckle.

"What a lucky guy," heeseung muttered to himself, watching the interaction between you and your co-worker as he went to the register after you called his order number.

"Enjoy!" You smiled and handed him a smaller cup with whipped cream in it, and you wrote Mylo's name on the cup with little hearts surrounding it.

Heeseung smiled at the adorable treat you prepared for his furry friend. "Thank you," he said while chuckling. "You're definitely gonna be his new favorite after this."

"With an owner like you, I'm sure that's impossible," you replied and only realized how flirty that sounded after it came out, but you didn't regret it when you saw him smile shyly.

"O-oh," he laughed awkwardly, and a blush crept up his neck. "T-thanks," he stutters.

"Of course! Have a good day, heeseung, and be safe, okay?" you smile.

"Yes, mam," he saluted and bid you goodbye. As soon as he got a block down the street, he had to lean against the wall and take a breather cause he was literally shaking with nerves. "Gosh, she's so beautiful," he breathed out with a hand resting on his racing heart.

"With an owner like you, I'm sure that's impossible." Sunghoon mimicked your tone after listening to your guy's whole conversation while he "cleaned" the tables.

"Shut it, hoon," you said, smiling uncontrollably.

"Yes, mam," he said while laughing and putting emphasis on mam. "Well, aren't you guys just so cute? "

"Stop it, or I'm leaving you here if you don't knock it off," you threatened playfully.

"You might as well. It's dead as hell, and we only have a few hours till closing," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" He nodded without a second thought. "I'll stay another hour and help you clean, and then I'll go deal?"

"Deal and oh, tell me all about this enemies-to-lovers trope. One day, you're fighting, and the next, you're flirting," he laughs.

"We're not flirting!" You buried your head in your hands, totally embarrassed, but you can't lie. You did want to talk about the little crush you had on heeseung.

☕️.

“Hey, buddy! Did you miss me?” Heeseung giggled, kneeling down and nearly getting pounced on as soon as he offered Mylo his treat. “Yeah, she’s definitely your favorite,” he says, plopping down on his sleeping bag and grabbing his own food from the brown paper bag. “Delicious as always,” he says after the first bite. “Mylo, I think your daddy’s in love,” he smiles to himself, feeling full cause of your kindness alone, and he would definitely cherish this peaceful moment for years to come.

Thanks to your amazing friend and co-worker, Sunghoon, you could go home early once again while he stayed behind and closed up for the night. One of these days, you were definitely gonna have to return the favor.

You took the bus home this time cause you were extra tired that evening. The sun had begun to set, and it was a bit chilly outside, so you were enjoying the warm ride home. You smiled as you passed the bench where you first met heeseung.

You were lost in thought about your guy's first encounter until you saw something in the corner of your eye. You turned and looked down the alleyway where heeseung stayed. You may or may not have watched him occasionally just to ensure he got home safely.

You smiled and looked a little more closely, hoping to catch a peek at him even though you had already seen him today, but what you saw made your smile drop altogether, and your heart raced with nothing but fear. “Stop the bus!” You screamed to the driver and they immediately halted after hearing your panicked shrill.

You ran out of the bus and down the alleyway without thinking twice about the dangers you might face. “Hey!” You yelled on instinct, gaining the attention of the group of teenagers that you saw from the bus. A few of them stood up and started walking toward you while the others continued to beat heeseung and Mylo. With nothing but fear in your eyes. You quickly pulled out your phone and called the cops. As soon as they saw you with a phone in your hand, they all scattered away. Despite the fear running through your veins, you ran down the alley and saw exactly what you feared. “Are you okay?” You asked him softly and crouched to his level to inspect what they had done to him. Heeseung was balled up on the ground, hugging Mylo so he would take the brunt of the blows.

He flinched when he heard your soft voice, and he slowly peaked up at you, his body still shaking in fear, and his face was barely even recognizable. “I-I’m fine. What are you doing here? You could have gotten hurt,” he scolded you while checking Mylo for any chance of injury. Thankfully, he was able to shield him from most of the brutal assault.

Once he responded coherently to you, you were able to calm yourself, and your heart settled with relief.

After your initial panic, you noticed you still had your phone in hand. You put the device to your ear and told the operator your exact location, letting them know that someone had been injured.

Heeseung quickly snatched the phone away from you, hanging up immediately. “Are you crazy! Why would you call the police?!”

Your brows raise in shock from the sudden shift of tone in his voice. “I- I thought-“

“Obviously, you didn’t fucking think 'cause now I have to find somewhere else to stay,” he said frantically while trying to pack up his belongings so he could leave before the police came, but he heard all the sirens in the distance, and it was already too late. “I’m fucked” he said weakly and fell down to his knees.

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to help,” you said, and you were confused, not knowing what the harm was with calling the police. You couldn’t let those group of assholes off the hook after what they did to him and Mylo.

“You can help by getting the fuck away from me!” He yelled. Not only was he embarrassed you saw him like this, but he was also injured, sad, and scared for his life.

You were left speechless from his sudden outburst. You didn’t know what you did wrong and you didn’t know what to do, so you slowly got up and walked out of the alleyway, leaving him alone to hopefully cool off and explain what was happening.

The cops surrounded the area, blue and red lights flashed everywhere as you talked to the officers about what happened. Now you know why heeseung mentioned he had to find another place to stay cause once the police found out he was homeless, they practically turned a blind eye to the whole situation and denied your request when you asked them not to give him a fine and not only that, they didn’t even want to treat his wounds which was totally unfair. He was homeless, but he was still a human, and they were treating him like less than.

Unbelievable, you thought. You knew the world was cruel. Sometimes, but this was just too much.

Heeseung held his head low the entire time, and it took every last ounce of strength for him to hold it together when they fined him a hundred dollars for sleeping on owned property, his world felt like it was falling down around him, and everything in the background sounded like high pitched noise as the cops drove away from the scene.

Twenty minutes ago, he was the happiest he’d been in years, and just within a blink of an eye, all that was taken from him.

You went back to heeseung after everything had been concluded, hoping he had calmed down a bit after the incident. “I can pay the fine, heeseung. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault,” you say dejectedly. “I should have minded my own business. I just wanted to help you.”

He didn’t say a single word to you while packing his bags, even though the sad tone of your voice made his heart ache. It wasn’t your fault he was a homeless loser. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him, and right now, he’s just upset with himself. He knows he should have never gotten anyone else involved in the shit show he called his life.

Once everything was gathered and stored in his backpack, he stood up, getting ready to make his leave.

Except Mylo had other plans and stayed planted to the pavement. “Mylo, it’s time to go.” heeseung tugged him along like usual, but Mylo resisted.

“Heeseung, I’m sorry,” you apologized again, and you were nearly on the verge of tears cause everything that happened was all your fault. You just wanted to help him, that’s all.

“Mylo!” Heeseung shouted.

“Heeseung, please,” you said softly, hoping he’d at least accept the apology before he left and you never saw him again.

“Just leave me alon- ow fuck!” He whimpered, feeling a sharp pain in his side. Before he could catch his balance, he lost his footing, nearly falling over if it wasn’t for you immediately rushing to his aid and balancing him. He practically collapsed in your arms, and you held him upright, using the brick building next to you for leverage to help him stand. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help,” he cried softly, still trying to walk under his own power, but he stumbled, and once again, your hands were there to catch him, saving him from the fall. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice giving out finally as his entire body succumbed to the pain.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you reassured him and hugged him close to your body. A second didn’t even pass before he had you wrapped tightly in his arms.

“I’m scared,” he cries softly, holding on to you like his life depended on it, and mylo finally sat up, sitting down next you with heeseung as he nudged him gently with his muzzle, sensing his owner’s sadness. “I’m so scared, y/n,” he whispered, leaning into your touch.

A few of your own tears had fallen down your cheek, and you could hear the pain and sorrow in his voice, and it broke your heart to bits to see him like this. “Don’t be. You can stay with me until you find a new place. I don’t mind.” You stroked his hair softly.

“No, no, no, I couldn’t ask that of you.” he shook his head, clutching tighter onto your shirt, terrified to let you go. You holding on to him was the only thing keeping him sane right now.

If he was being this open and vulnerable with you, practically a stranger, then you knew he really must be feeling at his lowest right now, and that’s the last thing you wanted for him cause deep down, you knew there was so much more to him than just a homeless guy that has a hard time accepting kindness.

“You’re not asking; I’m telling.” You dismissed him right away. There was no way you’d let him stay out here another night cause what happened tonight was bad enough, and you weren’t willing to take any chances either cause if something worse happened to him, you don’t know how’d you be able to handle that just the thought made you feel sick. “Are you okay to stand?” You ask him gently once his tears have subsided.

“I think so,” he sniffles while you help him up. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes.

“Don’t apologize, heeseung. You’ve done nothing wrong. Are you okay to keep going?” You adjusted a little, carrying most of his weight on your shoulder. He nodded weakly, trying his best to assist you despite his bruised ribs and busted face. “My apartment is only a few minutes away. Will you be okay til then? We can take breaks if you need to.”

“I’m okay. I think I can make it,” he surrendered to your offer, too worn down and tired to say no to you. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder, walking him and Mylo to their new home.

You stopped at the door once you arrived. “Don’t be scared, but I have a dog as well, and she can get very excited when she meets new people,” you warn him before entering.

Heeseung smiled a tad bit, wincing when the cut on his lip stretched. “Mylo’s good with the company,” he responds, his voice low and horse, a big contrast to how he sounded earlier in the evening.

“Okay, great!” You welcomed them inside. “Myla, we have visitors!” You cheered, and she was already waiting at the door for you.

“Woah!” She jumped on heeseung immediately. “Ow ow ow,” he grimaced when she nudged his face. He had no idea when you said you had a dog that you meant a full-grown shepherd almost identical to his own.

“Myla, sit,” you scolded her, and she sat down on the carpet, showing you the whites of her eyes. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine; she’s just like huge,” he chuckled and coughed immediately after due to the pain in his chest.

“Take a seat on the couch,” you quickly Instructed.

“But I’m all bloody and dirty,” he reasoned, unintentionally looking at you with puppy eyes. You just grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

Meanwhile, Mylo was still frozen by the door. As soon as he saw Myla, he stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to the side, looking confused.

“Go say hi,” you gestured to Myla, and she walked over to Mylo, sniffing him. She recognized his scent immediately and started licking his head, but he just backed away further into the corner, hiding himself.

Heeseung watched Mylo’s odd behavior. He was always great with new dogs, but all of a sudden, he was being standoff-ish. “Mylo,” heeseung said in a stern tone, and Mylo quickly ran over to the couch, hiding behind heeseung. “What has gotten into you, hmm?” Heeseung chuckled, and Mylo peaked around his back to stare at Myla.

You and heeseung both just giggled at his cuteness. “Wait here. I’ll just go and get you some medicine and bandages for your wounds.”

“Thank you.” After a moment, you had gathered everything, and heeseung half smiled once you came back to the living room with all the supplies in hand.

“Come on, boy, you have to sit down so I can heal your daddy’s wounds,” you said sweetly. Mylo obediently laid down on the floor and curled up around your guy's feet. “Gosh,” you said once you turned on the tableside lamp and saw just how badly he was injured.

“That bad, huh?” He laughed dryly. “Imagine I let a bunch of teenagers beat me up,” he said pitifully.

“I don’t know any one man that can fight off four people,” you said, trying to lift his spirits, and it must have worked cause he smiled softly, feeling appreciative of your comforting words as he laid back on the couch so you could do your work. “This is gonna sting, but only for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, already anticipating the sting, and it made him nervous for the pain that was inevitably about to come.

You poured the peroxide on a cotton ball and dabbed at the blood that had started to harden on his cheek and lip.

“Hmm.” He clenched his jaw from the sting, and you noticed his discomfort right away. “Sorry,” you whispered while applying some ointment to his face, hoping it would help take away the sting as you placed a single bandage on the wound. “Does it hurt anywhere else?” You ask once you finished nearly his entire face.

“N-no, I’m fine, thanks,” he lied. It hurt just about everywhere, but he didn’t want to burden you, and he was sure it’d heal on its own anyway, as it always does. He’s taken enough beatings to know.

“Okay, are you hungry or?” He declined once more with a tiny shake of his head. “Well, are you sleepy?” You asked, and he nodded his head. You’re not sure if he was aware of this, but he was pouting, and he looked so cute, just like a little baby. “Wait here.” You patted his knee and got the spare room ready for him.

Heeseung laughed as he watched Mylo digging his nails into the carpet and dragging himself towards Myla.

By the time you came back from blowing up the air mattress and getting a few things set up for heeseung, you came back and saw Myla and Mylo coupled together on the carpet, and it was too freaking adorable how they were already getting along. “I think that’s a good sign” you grinned at the sight.

“I think so, too,” heeseung agreed. It was nice to see Mylo interacting with more of his kind, even if he was behaving a bit strangely. “Myla and Mylo,” heeseung let out an airy laugh as he watched them snuggling up to one another like they’ve known each other for years.

You smiled warmly at him. “So it’s not much, but there’s a bed, and I also have some spare toiletries in the bathroom. Sorry in advance if they all smell like flowers.”

“I like flowers,” he gave you a genuine smile.

“Oh well, good then, I guess that’s it. If you need anything, my room is across from yours. Don’t hesitate at all. Just call me even if I’m asleep, alright?”

“Okay,” he said quietly and got up from the couch. “Mylo,” he whistled. “Bedtime.” Mylo jumped up and scampered over to Heeseung, following him down the hallway. “Goodnight, y/n. Thanks for all of this. I really mean it.” he wanted to say more, so much more, but the last thing he wanted to do was get emotional again. The first time he cried in front of you was embarrassing enough.

“Of course, goodnight, heeseung.” he gave you a small smile before going into his new room. “This is home, Buddy.” Heeseung kicked off his pants and laid down on the mattress to sleep. “Wow,” he sighed in relief from the feeling of the soft air mattress hitting his back. “I told you we were going to get lucky, boy,” heeseung whispers while hugging Mylo and getting ready to sleep.

You smiled when your face hit your pillow, and you couldn’t have been happier knowing that heeseung and Mylo were together, safe and off the streets, and they could finally rest peacefully.

☕️.

Heeseung had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of scratching noises. He quickly shot up, alert from the sudden disturbance. He took in his surroundings, breathing a deep sigh of relief once he realized he was safe at your apartment and didn’t have to worry about being assaulted again.

He heard the scratching noise again and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Mylo was digging on the door and probably scraping the paint with his claws. “Cut that out!” Heeseung whispered shouted and got out of bed, putting his pants on and quietly opening his door, assuming Mylo needed a bathroom break. “Come on, it’s this way,” Heeseung tiredly mutters while Mylo is busy sniffing the bottom of your bedroom door.

You stirred from your sleep when you felt Myla jumping off the bed. She looked back at you, wagging her tail and waiting at the door for you. “Gotta go potty?” You grabbed your robe and tossed it on, yawning before opening the door. “Woah,” You jumped slightly when you saw heeseung and Mylo standing right outside your door.

“Sorry,” Heeseung whispered.

“Hey, it's not your fault Myla has to use the bathroom,” you assured him.

“Same with him,” heeseung chuckled, pointing at Mylo.

You both shut your bedroom doors and walked to the front door, but neither of the two moved from their spot.

You and heeseung made eye contact, a knowing look taking over both your features. “Sorry,” heeseung mumbled, feeling like it was his fault for the disturbance.

“Stop apologizing,” you chuckled. “It’s alright.”

“Sorry- I- okay.” he dropped his shoulders and sighed.

“So I guess we can both agree that we’ve lost our sleeping partners.” You say, watching the two of them nuzzling each other.

“Guess so,” Heeseung laughs softly. Mylo and Myla lay next to each other on the ground, and clearly, they weren’t going to leave each other's side tonight. “Goodnight, y/n,” heeseung mutters as he goes back to his room.

“Night, heeseung,” you smiled and shut your door behind you, hoping to get a good night's rest after everything that happened today.

☕️.

Finally, you were both able to rest through the night after the disturbance. You had a day off today, which was perfect cause heeseung wouldn’t be alone on his first day with you. You didn’t have much on your to-do list, so maybe you could do something later, like shopping or getting some food for dinner with him if he was feeling up to it.

You did your usual routine, fed both the dogs, and then made a small breakfast for yourself. You didn’t want to cook anything for heeseung cause you were not sure what time he would wake up, and you didn’t want it to be cold, so you waited til later for him.

Except later came, and it was about four in the afternoon, and still, no sign of heeseung. You assumed he was just really worn out, so you took the dogs for a walk, but not before leaving a note in case heeseung woke up before you got back. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about Mylo's whereabouts.

After half an hour, you came back from the dog park, and heeseung was still nowhere in sight. You spent the rest of the day playing with the dogs and watching TV. Before you knew it, the day was already over. It was midnight, and heeseung never showed. You cracked the door and checked on him before you went to sleep just to make sure he was okay, and you smiled to yourself. He was more than okay; he was still sleeping very very soundly.

You pouted slightly cause you were excited to see him today, but if he was that tired, you wanted to give him time to rest. After all, he needed it. You just hoped his bandages would hold until the next morning.

☕️.

The next week went by like this, except you knew that he came out of his room when you saw your strawberry shampoo spilled on the tub floor and his old clothes folded neatly near the laundry basket, not to mention the missing ramen in your cupboard.

Heeseung was horrified to step out of his room and face you. The first night was okay, but after things settled in, he couldn’t help but be embarrassed by how he treated you when you tried to help him and how he broke down like a newborn baby crying in your arms. “What the hell were you thinking?” He said to himself out loud in his room. “Ow,” he whimpered in pain when he turned on his side in bed; he lifted up his shirt, and if he wasn’t mistaken, his wounds had gotten infected badly. There was pus oozing from them, and they felt worse than the day he got them. He was applying the ointment you gave him every day, but it wasn’t working. Little did he know he needed a lot more than ointment for his level of injuries.

He got up out of bed and hobbled onto the bathroom to get more ointment. To his luck, or maybe not to his luck, you had just gotten home from work and caught him in the doorway. He thought about scattering on back to his room, but it’d look very obvious that he was trying to avoid you if he did that, so he just greeted you politely before going into the washroom. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey!” You said happily cause he was finally up and awake. “Feeling any better?” You asked, hoping to hear a positive response to your question.

“Umm… yeah,” he said, a bit unsure, and he was unaware that he was holding his side, a clear sign to you that he was still in pain.

“Does it still hurt there?” You looked down to where he was holding, a small pout making its way to your lips.

“Yeah, but I think it’s getting better.” Once again, he lied so you wouldn’t be caused any inconvenience because of him.

“Here, let me take a look. Umm, do you mind if I just lift this up a bit?” He shook his head as a no, you proceeded to peel back the shirt, and he bit his lip to conceal the pained sound that was dying to escape when the material of his shirt brushed against his wound.

“Am I all good?” He asked once he saw you blankly staring at the area where he was still badly hurt.

“Go wait in your room for me, okay?” You couldn’t help the sound of disappointment in your voice. Your tone let him know the seriousness of the situation, and he nodded his head, doing as he was told like a little kid being scolded.

You came in a few minutes later with your hands full of all types of first aid supplies. You sat down next to him, breaking the silence as you shyly instructed him to lift up his shirt.

He nodded again and lifted up his shirt, revealing the angry, infected welts on his skin. There was more than you had originally seen, even more on his lower abdomen and upper back. “Umm, I can’t really, you know, reach all the spots if you don’t..” your words faded out towards the end in hopes he would understand what you meant and not make the situation awkward, but he just stared at you blankly, obviously not understanding what you meant. “The shirt you need to uhh,” you motioned for him to take his shirt off, and his eyes automatically went wide; nevertheless, he complied and took off the article of clothing. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” You asked with a sigh, looking at all the swollen cuts on his body.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my problems,” he mumbled.

“Well, for as long as you stay with me, your problems are my problems.” The room fell silent once again. What else could he say to that? He sat still while you cleaned his wounds. Luckily for him, it wasn’t bad enough to go to the emergency room, but if he waited a few days longer, you don’t know what would have happened.

He hissed in pain when the peroxide bubbled around one of the many wounds covering his frail body. “Sorry,” you blew on the area to make it feel better. “You’re doing so good,” you told him when it got to some of the really bad areas. “Just a little more,” you whisper while cleaning up the rest of the cuts. “Now, is there anything else you want to tell me?” You look at him with a skeptical raise of your brow.

He gulped and turned to look at you. “N-no,” he stuttered just like last time, which was a good indicator that he was not telling you the truth this time either.

“Heeseung,” you said his name in a warning tone. “If you’re hurt somewhere else and it goes untreated, it could get very bad, and you’re not a burden to me at all, okay? I offered, so let me take care of you, yeah?”

☕️.

This was probably the most unintentionally awkward thing you have ever done, and despite focusing on the task at hand, it was hard to focus when he was in nothing but his underwear while you treated the wounds on his thighs. “Ow,” he flinched from the burning sensation of the disinfectant, and you rubbed his thigh softly, trying to distract him from the pain; he tensed up at the contact but quickly relaxed under your careful touch.

“Sorry, I’m almost done.” He leaned back on his palms, head tilting back while he grimaced in pain.

“A-ah, o-okay,” his breath shudders the moment you apply more ointment to his thigh.

“There, all done,” you finally finished and wrapped his legs up successfully, as well as his upper body.

“Thank you so much.” he threw his head back, exhaling deeply. That was probably the hardest thing he’d done in a while. The pain he felt was literally excruciating.

He reached for his shirt, unknowingly leaning into you a bit. Your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity, and now you were only a mere few inches away from each other.

He held his breath while staring at you, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips before he caught himself and looked away, clearing his throat softly. “Uhm”

The air was already awkward, but now there was a certain tension circulating. It felt stuffy, and you could barely even breathe it in. “I-I’ll let you get dressed.” You turned away from him, too flustered to look at him any longer.

You’re shocked you even had the composure for those words to come out coherently.

You felt bad for even thinking like this while he was injured, but you couldn’t help but notice that he was even more handsome up close.

“Yeah,” he breathed out as you walked to the door, fumbling with all the supplies you had in hand.

“Just come down for breakfast soon, okay?” you say while grabbing the door knob and excusing yourself.

“I will,” his voice comes out soft as you shut the door, leaning against it and clutching your beating heart.

You felt like squealing. How were you going to be able to handle living with him?

☕️.

“Breakfast,” heeseung said as he paced back and forth. “Breakfast?” The last time he had breakfast was heck if he knew. He hadn’t even sat at a dining table since he was a young teenager. “Breakfast.” While he was pacing, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, and his face was scruffy. “Eww,” he mumbled while running his fingers through the strands of his hair, looking back at his disgusting appearance.

At some point, he was able to gather the courage to leave his room or technically your room and go to the kitchen, where he could smell the bacon you were cooking.

Your back was turned to him, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it before anything could come out. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments and shoved his hands inside his pockets. “H-hi,” he greeted and teetered himself back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Oh, hi!” You whipped your head around at the sound of his voice and smiled at him. “You’re just in time. Have a seat.”

He took out a chair and sat down while you finished making him the tasteless black coffee that he always seemed to enjoy, or maybe it was just cause it was the cheapest thing on the menu.

“Here you are,” you said softly as you served him his food.

“Last time I’ve had this much food was more than eight years ago,” he said while looking at the piled-up plate before him.

You frowned upon hearing that cause that probably meant he had been homeless or at least struggling for a good amount of years, and knowing that made you sad.

He took note of your sad expression and quickly changed the topic so he wouldn’t sour the mood any more than he already had. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Thank you”

“It’s okay, and you’re welcome,” you smiled. “Mylo’s just out in the front playing with Myla,” you told him as you took a seat at the table with him.

“You’re not eating?” He asked as he took a bite of bacon, a satisfied hum coming from the taste. Home-cooked breakfast has always been his favorite.

“No, it’s like 7:00pm,” you said while giggling.

He lowered his head in pure embarrassment, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Right,” he chuckled, only now realizing just how late he had slept in.

You watched him eat in silence with a smile, and it warmed your heart to see him eating and enjoying the food you made just for him.

He took a break from eating before speaking again. “After my infection goes down, I’ll find a new place to stay and get Mylo and me out of your hair. He’s a pain in the butt, and I’m not much better off,” he informs and takes a sip of coffee.

“Would you like some cream for your coffee?” You ignored his comment entirely cause you weren’t letting him go back out on the street, and that was final.

“Y/n-“

“Yes? Okay then,” You smiled and got up from the table, grabbing some coffee creamer.

He sighed softly while you added some personality to his hot beverage. “Thanks, but I really don’t need all this. I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t want to bother you.”

“Do I look bothered? I’ve cleaned your wounds without complaint. It’s my pleasure to cook for you. Myla loves the extra company, and so do I, so what seems to be the issue with you staying here” You fold your arms on the table and wait for a response. You weren’t trying to sound so rude, but you were adamant about him staying because it wasn’t safe for him out there, and anytime the thought of him leaving crept up in your mind, you couldn’t help but feel agitated.

When you put it like that, it didn’t sound bad at all, but he just felt like a burden. Maybe it was because of his terrible upbringing, where he was told that everything was his fault and the world would be a better place without him in it. He doesn’t know, but still, he just didn’t feel right accepting your hospitality. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” he politely refused.

You sighed. You didn’t want to be rude, so you excused yourself. “I’ll go check on the dogs,” you said quietly and left the table.

Heeseung lowered his head and sighed deeply. He didn’t want you to be upset with him or displeased or whatever you were, but he wasn’t your problem to solve. He needed to do better by himself for himself, not freeload off your kindness.

☕️.

Heeseung has been staying with you for a few weeks now. His wounds almost cleared up completely after he let you treat them daily. Although it was like pulling teeth, you managed to get it done, and by some type of magic, you were able to convince him to let you take him shopping. “So what all do you need?” You asked once you pulled out a shopping cart.

“Umm, toiletries?” He scratched his nape, staying close to your side like a child would his mother.

You smiled and nodded, leading him to the health and beauty section.

You stopped at the end of the aisle, and he stood next to you, not moving a single inch. Even though you were waiting for him to lead the way, you cut your eyes at him, and he was still frozen there, just like a statue, so you cleared your throat. “Umm, you can get anything you need.”

“Oh!” He made a face of realization as he went to pick out items before you could notice the embarrassed blush on his face.

You stayed at the end of the aisle, and he came back like two seconds later with a trial-size toothbrush and toothpaste that cost $1,09

“Really? That’s all you need.” You look at the single item in his hand, trying your best not to judge his choice in necessities, but you can’t help it.

“Yup,” he replied, dropping his item in the cart.

You sighed. This was going to be a long day.

You went down the aisle with him this time, helping him pick out some things he needed that weren’t travel-size. “Let’s see…” you hummed. “You need this, this, and this.” You grabbed a full-sized tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a bottle of mouthwash. “And these also,” you say, adding some toothflossers. “What next?”

“Some body wash, maybe I don’t know,” he mumbles out, playing with his fingers out of uneasiness when he sees the prices of everything you had just dropped in the cart.

“Okay, let’s go” Once you get down the body wash aisle, you nearly groan in annoyance when he bought a three-in-one after smelling more than ten different body washes.

You knew he liked the $10,00 dollar bottle cause the way his eyes lit up when he smelled it, but of course, he chose the two-dollar bottle cause it was cheap. Not to say there was a problem with being frugal. It’s just he didn’t need to be on a budget when he was with you.

You took the three in one out of the cart and put it back on the shelf, grabbing the one he really wanted. “I-“

“Heeseung,” you stood in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders as you gave him a serious talk. “Money isn’t an issue. Just pick whatever you want without a thought.” he nodded at you, eyes blinking rapidly as he hung on to every single last word that you had said to him. “So from now on, just get anything you want, okay?” You didn��t want to force anything upon him cause you knew spending this type of money wasn’t an everyday occurrence for him, but you hoped he’d get used to the idea of it because he deserved to shop like everyone else even if it was new to him.

“Okay,” he said softly.

Finally, you thought to yourself now that he had taken the initiative to lead you around the store to do some shopping of his own, and it was refreshing to see him adding all different types of stuff to the cart without checking the price tag. “I could also use a razor,” he said while rubbing the little scruff on his chin.

“Razors are this way.” You chuckled lightly and guided him to the shaving section. He followed you and picked out a razor and shave cream. “Does this one smell okay?” He showed you the aftershave he was thinking about getting.

“Hmm,” you hummed in agreement. “It suits you. You’re going to get all the ladies,” you joked, and he chuckled.

“All the homeless ladies on the block.” Your mood instantly shifted the moment he mentioned that. You didn’t want to think about him leaving in a week. You didn’t want to think about him being homeless again. He had only been staying with you for a few weeks, and now he was already leaving soon.

You were definitely going to miss him.

Living alone wasn’t easy for you. That’s why you had gotten Myla in the first place, and as much as she cheered you up, there was nothing like having the company of another human. You’d invite Sunghoon occasionally, but he was always too busy with school, plus his relationship, so it had just been you and Myla for years.

But now that heeseung was staying with you, that loneliness was gone, unfortunately for you, though it would only be temporary.

“Anything else?” You muttered sadly, which went completely unnoticed by him.

“Some new clothes would be nice,” he says enthusiastically.

“Okay,” You took him to the men’s section for clothing, your feet suddenly feeling heavier as a feeling of dread set in your stomach.

You unintentionally spaced out while he was shopping for his clothes. The thought of him not being around anymore was really getting to you, and you didn’t even know why it was bothering you this much.

“Y/n?” He called you, but you didn’t answer. “Y/n?” He repeated, this time turning around to catch your attention.

“Hmm?” You snap back to reality, noticing a questioning look on his face.

“Are you feeling sleepy?” He inquired with a hint of concern. “If you are, we can go.”

“No, I was just thinking about something,” you told him truthfully. You did have a day off today, so you felt good. You weren’t feeling sleepy at all. You assumed he took your saddened state for you being tired, but you were feeling okay.

“Okay,” he smiled, but you could tell that he was trying to hurry by the way he was sifting through the clothes rack. After a few moments, he had finished getting everything, which consisted of a few shirts and a couple pairs of joggers. “Okay, I’m done. That’s everything.” he clasps his hands together.

“Are you sure?” you reply, just to be completely sure he doesn’t need anything else.

“Oh, umm,” he was more than a little embarrassed about saying it to you, but it just dawned on him that he needed some new underwear. “I uhh need. I mean, never mind,” he concluded, not being able to bring himself to say it in front of you. For some reason, he just felt extremely shy suddenly, which was weird because you had seen him in his underwear already, but this felt different.

“Come on, what is it?” you urged him to tell you you’re sure he was just worried about the bill, but it was okay.

“It’s really nothing,” he gulped and avoided eye contact with you, hoping you wouldn’t ask again.

“Don’t worry about the cost. I have it, alright?” You patted his shoulder, assuring him it was okay to add more to the cart.

“It’s fine, let’s go.” he started walking away from the men’s clothing and heading to the checkout.

“Heeseung, come back and just tell me what it is,” you insisted.

“The dogs are probably getting hot in the car. We should probably leave.” he gave a reason as to why you guys should leave.

“Well, you should probably tell me otherwise they’ll be in the car all day.” You knew that was a threat, but you didn’t care. If he needed something else, he was going to get it.

He walked back over to you, finally giving in to your hardheadedness. “Ineedsomenewunderwear,” he quickly rushed out, blush already creeping up his neck.

“What?” You asked, your brows creasing in confusion. You couldn’t make out a single word he had just said to you.

He cupped his hand around his mouth, leaning in your ear and whispering it to you like it was top secret. “I said I need some new underwear.” he leaned back, a wide-eyed expression on his face as you realized what he said loud and clear word for word.

“Oh….ohhhhhhhh,” you laughed awkwardly. “I’ll just be over here,” you said and gave him some space to search for some underwear. “Sorry”

“Thank you,” he mutters shyly.

“Gosh,” you dropped your head in embarrassment once you got far enough away from him. You didn’t mean to pressure him into telling you like that. You weren’t trying to make him uncomfortable; you just wanted to make sure he got everything he needed.

Around five minutes later, Heeseung finished, and you went to the checkout area with him trailing behind you like you were his protector or something, but you thought it was cute.

Once again, you caught him looking at something, and you followed his line of sight. He was looking at the candy on the check lanes, which you thought was adorable, but that’s all he did. He just looked and looked away.

It’s been ages since he had any candy, but it wasn’t a necessity, so he didn’t buy it. That’s what his stepmom always told him: if he didn’t need it, he shouldn’t buy it.

Well, little did he know you didn’t think like his stepmom, and if he wanted candy, then he was going to get it. “Pick all you want.”

He now knew better than to fight with you, so he just put what he wanted into the cart, and you smiled that he was finally understanding that it was okay to buy things for himself.

After checking out, you two got back into the car, making a split decision to stop at the pet shop since you had a second mouth to feed. Mylo had already eaten nearly all of Myla's food.

As soon as you and heeseung entered the store, you were getting multiple compliments on how adorable the dogs were, and other people were politely smiling at the two of you while you roamed the shelves.

You bought a lot of stuff, probably too much stuff, but if Myla liked one thing, it was toys, and she just had a habit of destroying one after the other, so you’d be down to a few toys in no time.

Heeseung picked out some of Mylo’s favorites and let him pick out a few new toys as well. more like him picking them up and slobbering all over them, leaving heeseung no choice but to pick those. It’s been years since Mylo had a real toy. Heeseung had made him a makeshift toy out of a sock and shoestring, but that was nowhere near as fancy as the ones that the store had, especially the ones that squeaked. After shopping, you both continued to the register, where the cashier gave you two endless compliments. “Since you’re such a sweet couple, I tossed in a few dog bones as well,” the worker winked playfully as you and heeseung thanked her shyly, neither of you bothering to correct her before leaving the store after spending a couple hundred dollars, nearly making heeseung’s eyes pop out of their sockets.

Heeseung literally blushed the whole car ride home after that compliment the cashier gave you two, and thankfully, you didn’t notice his fidgeting in the passenger seat. It’s just that he’s never had a girlfriend or a girl that was even interested in him, so when he heard what the cashier said, he couldn’t help but entertain the thought of being your boyfriend a little.

Or maybe a lot.

You weren’t much better off. You didn’t notice him fidgeting cause you were fidgeting for the same exact reason. You even went as far as to make up scenarios of you and him together in your head until you pulled into your driveway.

You hoped that wasn’t weird.

You, heeseung, and the dogs arrived home safely, and you entered the apartment together, hands full of groceries. Heeseung speaks up after sitting down the grocery bags that he insisted on carrying most of despite being a bit sore still. “I’m gonna wash up before dinner,” he said to you while you put some of the food items in the fridge.

You hummed in acknowledgment, leaving out the items you were going to make dinner with.

While heeseung was in the shower, he shaved off all of his facial hair. It’s been ages since his face had felt so smooth; the warm water cascading down his back felt like heaven on earth, and he didn’t take one bit of this for granted. He relished every last second using everything you bought him to freshen up with. When his shower came to an end, he stepped out, and he could have cried at the appearance that stared back at him in the mirror. Now, that’s a face that looked recognizable. He definitely grew up, but behind it all, he was still just that little boy who ran away from home all those years ago. He smiled at his reflection, but there was just one little thing that was missing.

As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he spotted a pair of scissors on your bathroom counter, and without a second thought, he trimmed his hair way down.

He definitely wasn’t the best at it, but he was good enough to make himself look presentable. Being homeless forces you to learn a lot of things most people take for granted, and haircuts just happened to be one of the many things he learned while being out on the road for so long.

He combed his fingers through his hair, completely satisfied with his new look. He felt lighter and overall better than he had in years. He changed into the new joggers he/you had bought and a plain black shirt before coming back out to the living room.

“Are you always this on tim-“ your words got stuck in your throat when you turned around and saw him looking like a completely new man. You knew he was handsome under the scruff and overgrown hair, but you didn’t realize that he was that handsome, and to be honest, you had lost your train of thought entirely.

He noticed your stare, but he was far too self-conscious about his appearance to understand that you were actually checking him out and not judging him. “I-I think I got a size too big,” he laughs nervously. He was never that beefy of a guy, but there was a point where he was way more nourished than he is now.

His voice brought you back to reality. “No, no, it’s good. It fits just fine,” you assured him and turned your back to the stove so he wouldn’t see your flustered face.

Your answer makes him smile, and he went from feeling self-conscious to confident just like that.

Dinner was a lot less awkward than your first breakfast together, and you could slowly see yourself getting used to something like this. Of course not with heeseung cause he was leaving, but maybe someday soon you’d find a boyfriend, and he’d eventually move in with you, or you'd move in with him, but that was all just wishful thinking you hadn’t had a man ask you out or for your number since high school, and unfortunately you had to reject it cause you were just too busy with studies at that time.

Little did you know while you were lost in thought, Heeseung had been full-on shamelessly checking you out every chance he got, but he didn’t think much of it. He assumed it was because he hadn’t had any interaction with a women in so long, but even when he was around girls at school, he’s never paid attention to them the way he did you, but you were a different story. You were literally an angel from the first time he met you till now, and how could he not be attracted to such a sweet girl who was beautiful not just on the outside but on the inside as well. A huge plus was you having a shepherd, too. He thought that it was so adorable.

Perfect for him.

He’d, of course, never act on it, though, cause as he saw it, he just stumbled across an angel to help him get through a hard time for now, and then he’d be back on his way to fending for himself and living the only life that he knew how.

After dinner, you both said shy goodnights to each other before you headed to bed. Mylo and Myla had snuggled up to each other about an hour ago. From the looks of it, they wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, and since you and heeseung were two bleeding hearts, neither of you could separate them, so they peacefully slept in the living room together all night.

☕️.

The last week of his stay flew by. You and heeseung hung out a bunch after he had gotten more comfortable around you, so comfortable that when you came home from work, you saw him spread out all over the couch with Mylo on his chest and the TV on.

He must have been sleepy, you thought, but you didn’t mind him sleeping on your couch cause he needed the rest. You put a blanket on him and muttered a small goodnight before leaving the two alone for the first time since they got here. You finally got to sleep with Myla again. She had grown quite fond of Mylo, and now they were nearly inseparable, which warmed your heart, but it just hurt knowing that this would all come to an end so soon.

☕️.

And end it did.

Heeseung was leaving today, and despite spending the whole day with him, going out for ice cream playing at the dog park, and even having dinner together, you were still gonna miss him and Mylo with your whole heart.

“So I guess that’s everything,” heeseung said once he finished packing his new backpack courtesy of you.

“I guess so,” you fake smiled at him as he walked over to your door, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders.

“Umm, c-can I ask you for one last huge favor?” He questioned once he and Mylo stopped at your front door.

“Yeah,” you breathe out while fighting back your tears.

“Can I please have a hug?” He asked with a forced smile of his own. It hurt him like crazy to leave, but he didn’t want to ride on your coattail any longer than he had to. He was all healed up and had more than enough supplies to go it alone, plus you had even given him a hundred dollars even though he refused it five times before finally giving in.

“Of course.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave one last time.

“Thank you for everything, y/n. You’re really a great person, and I’m so glad I met you. These past few weeks were so much fun.” his voice nearly cracked, but he fought it off along with the tears that threatened to spill out as he tightened his grip on you before letting go. He released one last breath as his hands rested on your shoulders before dropping down to his sides.

“My pleasure!” You replied with only a few words cause if you didn’t, you knew you would start balling your eyes out like a newborn baby.

“Come on, Mylo, say bye-bye,” heeseung tugged on his leash like he always did, and Mylo rubbed himself against your leg. “Bye, y/n,” heeseung said before turning to the door so you wouldn’t see his tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“Bye, heeseung,” you said in the softest tone. He could tell you were getting emotional, too, and he had to get out at that exact moment cause if he didn’t, he was sure he’d never gain the strength to leave.

He left despite Mylo resisting when he was being separated from his new best friend. Heeseung shut the door without looking back and walked down the steps while Mylo kept trying to fight his way back inside your apartment, clawing at the door until he was panting due to exhaustion. “Come on, Mylo, it’s this way,” heeseung mumbled and finally broke down, letting his tears fall cause he just couldn’t hold them in anymore.

Myla was digging at the door after it shut, and you weakly sat next to her on the ground, balling your eyes out just like you knew you would when heeseung left.

Myla continued to whimper at the door, waiting for Mylo’s return, but it never came, and she curled up next to you where you had sat down on the floor after heeseung left. You cried and cried until you had no more tears left. It hurt far more than you had ever imagined it would.

You couldn’t believe it was actually over. It felt like just yesterday you were cleaning his wounds, and now he’s walking out your door, walking out of your life for good.

☕️.

After heeseung’s departure, he walked and walked and walked some more until he found a new spot he thought was suitable. He had gotten everything all laid out, setting up the new area and trying to replicate what he had when he was with you, but it just wasn’t the same.

“Well, it’s just you and me again, Buddy,” heeseung said to Mylo as they sat down in yet another alleyway. It definitely wasn’t as closed off from the street as his old spot, but he didn’t have a choice. It’d have to do. “Our new home,” he patted Mylo on the head, but of course, he wasn’t his usual cheery self. “You already miss myla, huh?” Mylo’s ear perked up at just the sound of her name. “Me too,” heeseung chuckled sadly. “And I miss her mommy.”

He flopped down on his sleeping bag, attempting to sleep the sadness away, but he just couldn’t get comfortable—no matter the position or how many times he tossed and turned. After sleeping on the bed, you had given him. It was hard to go back to sleeping on the cold hard ground.

But eventually, he grew so tired that his eyes had no choice but to flutter shut, and his shivering body succumbed to sleep.

When the morning came, he tried to get up and do his normal routine, but the drive just wasn’t there like it used to be. He sat in bed feeling unmotivated and miserable all day. It had only been a few hours since he left, and he already couldn’t stand it.

He was cold, his body ached, the smell of your bacon wasn’t filling his nostrils, and the idea of being found by that same group of teenagers wasn’t helping his current situation at all.

He’s been doing this his whole life, so why now was it so hard? How come after meeting you and Myla, his life changed so drastically? How come after being alone for so long that, he suddenly craved your care and hospitality more than anything in the world.

Suddenly, his train of thought was broken when he felt warm tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t even know when he had started crying; nevertheless, he tucked himself into a ball and buried his head in his sleeping bag. No matter how positive he tried to be, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was probably going to live the rest of his life out on the street without ever seeing you again.

He started to reminisce about the first day you two met and how he treated you so harshly but soon opened up to you after seeing how kind you were. He thought about all the food you bought him, all the money you gave him, how nice you were to his precious Mylo when you didn’t even know him.

He remembers going shopping with you, and the laugh he let out was bittersweet as he remembered the little underwear incident.

Good times.

Heeseung thought of himself as the black coffee he always used to drink before you came into his life. You swooped in and managed to brighten up his bland beverage with cream, turning the dull, uninteresting liquid into something colorful and delicious, and that’s exactly what you did to him. You took his old, meaningless life and made it worth living.

It’s quite a funny analogy, but you were like the cream to his coffee.

☕️.

You took vacation the day after heeseung left cause you were in no shape or form to function at your job. You didn’t even want to get out of bed, and Myla seemed so lonely when Mylo left that you couldn’t find it in your heart to leave her alone.

For the whole day, you ate comfort food and curled up on the couch cause you were in no mood to cook, nor did you have the energy to.

Myla didn’t even eat. She spent her time moping around the house, looking for Mylo. You assumed when she had no luck, she laid down in the twin dog bed she and Mylo always used to share. You supposed his scent still lingered there by the way she was sniffing it.

Even though he had just left, it felt like time seemed to go by as slowly as humanly possible, and with each minute that passed, the absence of heeseung brightening up your living space was crushing you inside more and more.

The reality of him being gone hit even harder in the morning when he wasn’t there to join you for breakfast.

When he wasn’t there to take the dogs for a walk.

When the smell of his aftershave wasn’t lingering in the air.

When he wasn’t cuddled up on the couch with the two dogs while you were cooking.

You know you shouldn’t have done it, but you stood from the couch, your feet leading you straight to the spare room he used to stay in. You twisted the knob taking a peek inside, just to see it completely empty, and your heart sank cause for some reason. You thought maybe, just maybe, this was all a nightmare, and he might still be there sleeping peacefully on your air mattress.

☕️.

The weekend had rolled around, and only a few days had passed since heeseung decided to go it alone. It was three in the morning, yet he found himself standing outside on your doorstep.

About an hour ago, he had already packed up all his stuff and made the journey back to your apartment. He’d been cussed out, people threw trash at him, and to top it all off, it had started to rain, and he just couldn’t take anymore.

He now knows why he couldn’t go back to the life he used to live after he left your place. It's because after having some normalcy for once, he saw just how messed up his life had truly been being homeless and on the streets. Before you, he had absolutely nothing to compare it to, but after spending time with you, his eyes were opened. He realized that the things he’d been searching so desperately for his whole life were waiting for him behind the walls of your apartment, and he didn’t hesitate to walk an entire hour back to your home.

Heeseung took a deep breath at your door before knocking. He knew the hour was nothing but ungodly, but if he had spent another night alone, he would have lost himself out there.

You had passed out on the couch some hours ago after eating carelessly and drinking beer all night, a new daily routine of yours ever since heeseung left.

You popped up out of your sleep when you heard a knock on the door. After your eyes somewhat adjusted, you looked at the time and couldn’t help but feel startled because who the heck would be at your door this late at night? It’s not like you knew anybody in this area and you hadn’t ordered anything.

You got up quietly, tiptoeing to look through the peephole, and you thought your eyes were deceiving you, so you rubbed the sleep from them, blinking a few times before taking another look, and there stood heeseung covered in the rain at your doorstep.

Your eyes weren’t deceiving you.

You backed away from the door in pure shock, a hand covering your mouth as your eyes watered. You couldn’t believe he was actually back.

When heeseung got no answer, he couldn’t help but lose hope, his shoulders slumping in defeat, but he has never been the give-up type, and he wouldn’t start now, so he decided to knock one last time before calling it quits cause if you were asleep, he didn’t want to disturb you at this hour.

You opened the latch and the door to be greeted by heeseung smiling at you with a drenched and panting Mylo sitting next to him. “Hi, y/n,” he said softly, and just at the sight of your face, his smile dropped, and he broke down in tears just like the day you let him stay with you. “I don’t think I can take being alone anymore.” he buried his head in the crook of your neck and clung to you like you were his lifeline.

You instantly hugged him back, not caring about your clothes being soaked by his wet ones. He was shaking, and his cheek that was pressed up against yours was cold as ice. “It’s okay. You’re here with me now. You’ll never be alone again,” you told him and patted his back softly as you warmed him up in your embrace, tears pricking your eyes at his current state.

Mylo quickly ran over to Myla, his leash dragging against the carpet. As the two reconnected, she licked the raindrops off his face while he licked hers.

You pushed the door closed behind him and guided him to the couch. His hold on you tightened just in case you tried to let him go. “I’m sorry, I-it’s just I have nowhere to go. I have no one to turn to and no one who loves me,” he sobbed quietly and opened up to you in his state of desperation. “No one to take care of me, no one to hold me. It’s just been me all by myself for years, and I just can’t do it anymore. Since I met you. I don’t want to live the way I used to.” he paused. Trying to collect his breath but failing due to the sheer amount of emotions flowing through him. “My step-parents abused me when I was little, and I ran away, and since then, it’s just been me and Mylo, and I just can’t.” he was all over the place, but you were able to piece together everything, and he completely broke down in your arms letting out the most painful sobs you’d ever heard. “I’m tired, I’m just so tired,” he sighed into your chest, entirely exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“Shh,” you stroked his head softly to calm him down. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore. Just let me help you. Let me take care of you, and when you get tired, you can rest cause no matter what, I’ll always be here when you need me,” you assured him, trying to keep it together yourself cause this was all very nerve-racking for you as well to profess such care and promise all these things to him, but no matter how nerve-racking it was you knew that your words were coming from your heart and deep down you knew you could fulfill every last one.

“D-do you really mean that? You won’t ever leave me like my parents did, will you?” He asked, and he almost sounded desperate for any type of affirmation at this point, desperate to be cared for by someone.

“Look at me.” You cupped his face in your hands, his cheeks still cold to the touch, his soft brown eyes staring into your own. “I’ll never leave you, and that’s a promise.” Your body acted on its own, and you kissed his cheek softly; his eyes twinkled shut, his breathing almost evening out the moment your soft lips touched his cheek, melting all the cold away with your warmth.

You both held each other in silence for at least twenty minutes before breaking apart after he had warmed all up. “You okay now?” You asked tenderly while stroking his back.

“Yeah, I think so,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for this.” he glanced at the wet couch. “I’m sorry for coming so late.”

“Don’t worry, let’s get you cleaned up yeah?” he reluctantly released you from his grip, and you led him to the bathroom.

You stood outside the door while he undressed himself. He handed you his wet clothes, and he stepped into the shower, washing away all his trials from the past few days.

You put the discarded laundry in the washer machine while you waited for him to finish.

When he came from the bathroom, he looked much better despite his tired, swollen eyes, and you assumed all he wanted was to sleep after everything that’s happened. You informed him that you would also be taking a shower, and he nodded in response, still looking a bit shaken from the whole experience.

After your shower, you entered the living room, and heeseung was still sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. “Heeseung,” you whispered his name, and he jumped in response, making you frown. You wondered just how much he had endured out there, but that was a conversation for a different time. “Time for bed.” You grabbed his hand gently and led him to your room instead of letting him sleep alone tonight. It just wasn’t sitting right with you, especially cause he looked so broken and out of it.

��A-are you sure?” He asked when you patted a spot on the bed for him.

“Positive” This time, he really didn’t fight you cause even if it was just for tonight, he didn’t want to go to sleep alone again.

He got under the covers with you and maintained a good distance until you tugged his body towards yourself and wrapped your arms around him. After feeling your warmth, he immediately hugged you back and tangled his limbs with yours, holding you like you were his personal giant stuffed teddy bear, and you smiled softly at the innocent, childlike gesture.

You slowly stroked his back, and not even a minute later, he was passed out in your arms. Your heart swelled at the sight of him sleeping so soundly. You put your head on his chest to get comfortable, inhaling his refreshing aftershave while you fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his calming heartbeat and his comforting warmth.

☕️.

Heeseung woke up next to you, snuggling closer to you, a habit he had with Mylo every morning. “Good morning, Mylo,” he whispered. Usually, he’d be getting his morning love from Mylo by now, but when he didn’t feel licks and slobber on his face, the embarrassing reality of what he was actually doing washed over him.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sleeping next to him, and he squeezed his eyes back shut.

How could I have forgotten I went to bed with her last night? He thought to himself.

Well, at least you were still sleeping and didn’t hear him embarrassing himself.

He opened his eyes again and took in your features up close. You had a little mole that he hadn’t noticed before cause it was so tiny. Your eyelashes occasionally fluttered, and you gripped his waist, nuzzling your head into his chest in your sleep.

Needless to say, his heart was racing in his chest when you did that. He couldn’t lie that it felt absolutely amazing how you were holding onto him right now, but he knew if you were awake, you wouldn’t be doing that, so to save you any embarrassment when you woke up, he slowly peeled your arms away from his body.

About a minute passed before you found your way back to his side of the bed after it got chilly. You hummed in contentment when you found his warmth once more.

He just gave in and let you hug him. He tried so hard to resist the urge to hug you back, but he couldn’t. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest while he stroked your arm lightly. He figured it would be fine since you’d be up soon anyway.

Little did he know you were hungover from last night and you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. Only a few minutes tick by, and soon his eyes slowly fell shut. He didn’t want to go back to sleep because the dogs probably needed checking up on, but your warm embrace was slowly but surely aiding him to fall back asleep in your arms peacefully.

Eventually, sometime in the evening, you stirred awake and noticed something very tall and very big sleeping next to you. All the memories from last night came flooding in, and you gasped when you remembered that you had kissed him, well on the cheek, but it was still a kiss. You probably made him feel so uncomfortable and weirded out by your stupidity.

You really felt like kicking yourself for doing that, but you blame it on the drunkenness cause if you were sober, you would have never done that.

At least you convinced yourself of that.

The headache wasn’t too bad, and the room didn’t feel like it was spinning, so that was a good sign that you didn’t drink too much.

Or so you thought.

Your eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when you saw what time it was, but you quickly remembered you were on vacation and you didn’t have work, so you allowed yourself to relax, deciding to stop worrying so much and just enjoy the afternoon with heeseung.

Speaking of, he looked so peaceful sleeping next to you, and as much as you hated to disturb him, he needed to have a proper meal.

But staying in bed for five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. You looked up at him, and you heard little snores coming from his pouted lips. You unknowingly lifted your hand and smoothed your thumb over his cheek and then his chin until you were eventually brushing his bangs out of his eyes to get a better look at his face. He nuzzled his face into your warm palm while still asleep, and your heart melted. He was so precious, and everything he said to you last night came into your mind as you admired him.

What type of people could hurt such a delicate soul?

Sure, he was a little crusty around the edges at first, but when he opened up and started to get more comfortable with you, he was a real sweetheart. Occasionally, he’d make your coffee before work, or he’d do the laundry just so he was doing something instead of using you for a free place to stay, and he even included Myla, taking her on walks with him and Mylo, treating her as if she was his own.

Maybe you were getting too ahead of yourself, but in the last month, you had really grown quite fond of him.

Your thoughts were cut off when he started to stir out of sleep. One of the two dogs had started scratching on the door, and you quickly withdrew yourself from him before he noticed you watching him sleep like a weirdo.

You hopped out of bed and looked down at the door. Of course, it was no other than Mylo and Myla staring you in the face, probably asking to go out or for food.

Heeseung sat up and rubbed his eyes, combing his fingers through his hair while he looked at the two waiting at your guy's door.

You walked out quietly and fed them both, giving heeseung time to fully wake up before going back and checking on him, and admittedly, he looked so cute under the covers relaxing. “Morning,” you said softly.

“Good morning, y/n.” he smiled tiredly, his eyes barely even open as he greeted you.

“Uhh, about last night,” you started out slowly, trying to find the best and quickest way to go about this. “I was drunk last night, so I might have done something weird, just so you know.” You chewed at your lip nervously. “Like everything I said was true, but I tend to get really affectionate when I’m drunk, so the kiss was…” you trailed off a little, trying to save yourself the embarrassment of having this conversation.

“Because you were drunk?” He finished your words for you after putting two and two together.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and stood there awkwardly.

“Oh,” he said, disappointed, and you missed the frown on his face cause you were too busy staring blankly out the window. “Okay,” that’s all he could say. There wasn’t anything else that came to mind, and he felt like the air had just been sucked out of the room as a weird tight feeling in his chest made its presence known.

“Yeah, sorry for that.” You clasped your hands together and concluded, hoping he’d forgive your stupidity. “I’m gonna go make something to eat. Do you want anything?” You tried to switch the topic smoothly, but it didn’t seem to work.

“No, thank you,” he declined with a clenched jaw, getting out of bed and going to the restroom without another word.

You buried your face in your hands, and you couldn’t help but be upset with yourself because of what you did. What made it worse was the fact he actually seemed upset about the kiss. Gosh, the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable in a space that was supposed to be safe and comfortable for him, but you did just that.

The only time you saw heeseung was when he took the dogs on a walk and came back inside, but for the rest of the day, he shut himself inside his room with Mylo.

“She was just drunk,” he laughed pathetically at himself. “Should’ve known.” he doesn’t know why he foolishly thought you might have actually been interested in him in some way. “Gosh, I’m so stupid,” he scolded himself for his ridiculous assumption about you kissing him on the cheek. “But you,” he scratched Mylo’s chin. “Mylas smitten with you huh?” He laughed. “Well, at least one of us got the girl.”

He rolled over on his bed, thinking of where to go from here, but first things first, he needed to see you. He sighed and got up out of bed, approaching you while you were sitting on the sofa watching TV with Myla. “Hey, y/n, can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked softly as he entered the living room.

You were surprised that he even showed himself to you after your nonsense earlier, and you immediately felt your heart drop. He was probably going to tell you off for kissing him and asking him to sleep with you in the same bed. He was probably going to make boundaries and not talk to you anymore unless necessary. Before more bad thoughts crept up in your head. You answer with a small yet nervous nod as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“So, umm, I don’t know how to even start this,” he sighed as Mylo sat down at his feet.

Yep, this was it. He was getting ready to tell you he didn’t want to stay here anymore. Yep, y/n, you really blew it this time. “It’s okay. Just start when you’re ready,” you said calmly despite all the anxiety filling your body.

He smiled at you, appreciative of your welcoming nature. “So I’ll just get straight to the point: I have no education or previous experience of anything, and no one wants to hire me, so unfortunately, until I can get that settled, I have no way of getting a job,” he explained the fact to you hesitantly, feeling ashamed and embarrassed that as a young adult, he had absolutely nothing going for him.

You breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t telling you off for kissing him last night. You imagined he was going to tell you something so much worse. “Come work with me at the cafe. I can get you in. I guarantee it.” You knew you’d have to do some sweet talking, but your manager was a good guy. He hired you when you were at your lowest, so you’re sure he’d help a guy in need like heeseung.

“But I don’t have any experience,” he worries.

“Okay, hear me out on this.” You quickly dialed your manager's number and put the phone on speaker. “Hi, boss,” you chirped when he answered.

“Y/n! Hi, you just can’t seem to get enough of this place even when you’re on vacation,” he chuckled.

“Well, boss, it’s something really important. A good friend of mine needs a job,” you unknowingly start biting on your nails out of nervousness.

“Oh! Great! Niki just went back home for the holidays, so your timing is impeccable.” You smiled slightly at that. So far, so good. You gave heeseung a thumbs up.

“There’s just one thing… he was homeless, and he doesn’t have any prior experience or anything, so I was hoping maybe you could hire him in and just give him a chance.”

You heard a long sigh over the line. “That’s asking for a lot. Do you know I need someone reliable for this position? It’s nearing fall, and that’s when we’re the busiest.”

You looked at Heeseung, and he nodded his head enthusiastically, showing you that he’d be more than reliable and you trusted him. “He is,” you said, feeling more hopeful by the second.

“You know what? I’ll give him a shot, but I won’t be nice just because he’s your friend.”

“You won’t have to. I know he’s perfect for the job,” you said with confidence.

“I trust you,” he replied. He was stern, but you knew he was a good guy, and he wouldn’t regret giving heeseung a chance.

“Thank you, boss.”

“No problem, y/n. Bring him in for an interview next Wednesday.”

“Will do!” You hung up and smiled at heeseung, who was already staring at you with the biggest, brightest smile on his face. You literally were his guardian Angel.

“You’re amazing!” He smiled even wider, tackling you in a hug. Out of pure joy, he swears if he got the job, he’d do everything to repay you.

☕️.

“Y/n, I’m so nervous,” heeseung whined, adjusting his dress shirt for the thousandth time.

“Don’t be.” You stood in front of him, taking his hands off his shirt and fixing his tie for him so he wouldn’t have to fidget with it anymore. “You’re gonna do great, I know it.” You had already rehearsed at home, and he did excellently; he had absolutely nothing to worry about. If he hadn’t told you he didn’t have prior experience before, then you wouldn’t have known with how professionally he answered all your questions.

He nodded at your words and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the interview. “Thanks, y/n, I really mean it.”

“Anytime.” You smiled at him and checked your watch. “It’s time.”

You cheered him on quietly as your boss made an appearance from the back of the cafe. “You must be heeseung?”

“Yes sir, nice to meet you.” heeseung stood up and took confident steps towards your boss, extending his hand for a handshake. He looked back at you and smiled one last time before going in for his interview.

You felt nervous for him, but you don’t even know why cause you knew he’d do great.

Not even twenty minutes later, he came out with a beaming smile on his face, and you could already tell he had good news. Your body reacted out of excitement, and you immediately ran to him, engulfing him in a big hug. “I got the job!”

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you. I promise I’m going to repay you in full.” he rocked you back and forth in his arms, and this had to be the best day of his entire life.

☕️.

After you and heeseung went back home, you were both just relaxing on the couch, talking about any random topics that came up while the TV played in the background. Heeseung was extra chatty today. The excitement of getting a job still hadn’t left his body yet.

He smiled and scooted a little closer to you as the two babies stuffed themselves on the couch next to you guys. “I know I haven’t even started the job yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll repay you, I promise.”

“Heeseung, thank you, but there’s no need, really,” you tell him earnestly.

“Y/n, you’re too nice to me. You’ve given me everything, and I’ve done nothing in return for you. I want to pay you back. Please let me.” he looked at you, eyes full of nothing but sincerity. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay, but you’ve done more than you know,” you tell him, resting your hand on his knee.

“What do you mean by that?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Where do I start?” You sat up straight, hand still softly stroking his knee. “First of all, you’ve given this place life. You gave Myla a friend, and you really brightened up my days. Everything is just better when you’re around, you know?” You retracted your hand nervously, playing with a stray thread on the couch.

“How?” Everything you told him just now was a completely foreign concept. He felt like a burden. He never felt appreciated or cared for. He always just felt like he was an obstacle in someone’s way, rather that be down a random alleyway on the street or back at his adoptive parent's house, so your words were confusing to him, to say the least.

“Cause you’re just fun to be around.” You grew flustered as soon as the words left your mouth. “I like your company, and you make me feel comfortable and safe.”

“Me? You mean that? Like actually?” he mumbled while looking down at his lap.

“I do.” his head quickly shot up at your words, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. No one had ever told him anything like that in his whole entire life, and he couldn’t fathom how anyone could feel that way about him, especially cause all his young adult life, he was told that he was useless, and now here you are telling him the exact opposite.

He quickly hid his face in his palms, hiding his tears from you. “I-I think I need to be alone right now.” he stood up abruptly and walked to the spare bedroom while you sat there half worried, half confused.

“Did I say something wrong?” You whispered to yourself.

Heeseung was just far too overwhelmed with emotions to even respond to you. He wasn’t trying to walk out on you like that, but he needed to gather himself first. He didn’t know what to do; everything he’d felt with you in these past few weeks was so weird, not in a bad way, but in a way that he’d never felt anything like it. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you or anything you’ve done for him so far, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He was so so thankful for you.

You played with the dogs on the couch for the meantime despite being worried about heeseung. You gave him some time to himself before you went to check in on him. You knocked softly on his door prior to entering. “Heeseung?”

“Yeah, come in.” he quickly wiped his tears as you entered, but anyone with eyes could see he had just been crying.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly and took a seat beside him, your hand automatically stroking his back soothingly.

“I’m more than okay. I’m perfect,” he smiled, pulling you into his arms and hugging you impossibly close. Naturally, you hugged him back cause you absolutely loved his hugs. They were so warm, and they could take any stress away. You felt content just being in his arms.

“Are you sure?” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, and he hummed in response, hugging you a little tighter.

“I’m just overjoyed, that’s all,” he sighs in contentment.

“Oh, I’m glad.” You patted his back gently, relieved that you hadn’t said anything offensive to him. “I was thinking if you wanted to, we could celebrate your employment with dinner.”

“Ooh, okay, what are we gonna make?” He asked, releasing you from his arms, an excited expression on his face.

“Oh umm, I was thinking of going out to eat,” you tell him your idea.

“Wow, okay, that sounds fun. I’ve never eaten out before. What should I wear? How should I act?” He hopped off his bed, searching through his very, very small wardrobe, which reminds you you need to take him shopping again. All he had was loungewear and a suit for his interview.

His excitement was absolutely adorable to you, but when you found out he’d never been to dinner before, that broke your heart. Something that most people do naturally was something foreign to him, and you realized in that moment you took a lot of things for granted. “Just wear something comfy,” you smiled.

☕️.

“Be good while I’m gone. Don’t mess up any more of y/n’s furniture, got it? She’s kind enough to let us stay here, so we must respect her.” Mylo just sat there, tail wagging while he looked at his master. “You don’t got it, do you?” Heeseung frowned. Mylo had already practically destroyed your table in the kitchen, and something deep down told him Mylo wasn’t going to stop until the living room furniture was polished in his scratch marks.

“Heeseung, it’s fine. Besides, I needed a new table anyways.”

“But-“

“Come on, we’ll be late for our reservation.” You grabbed his head, leading him to the door.

“Wait, how do I look?” He was in a plain white dress shirt, black slacks, and hair slicked back to perfection, and he smelled delicious.

“Handsome,” you complimented him as casually as you could despite your heart pumping wildly in your chest.

“You look beautiful,” you thanked him shyly as you both just kinda stood there awkwardly until one of you came back to your senses after staring at each other for far too long.

“The reservation,” he mumbled slowly, still taking in your beauty.

“Yeah,” you whispered and shook your head to break out of your trance, finally leaving your apartment, praying that the babies would behave while you were both gone.

☕️.

Going out and spending time with heeseung really made time fly by. He was just so down to earth you never really got the chance to settle down and talk to him one-on-one, but after tonight, you learned a lot of things about him. Despite his past, he was very bright and hopeful. He was an extremely humble and admirable person, and you could tell once he got on his feet, he was going to have a very bright future ahead of him and you’re just happy you could help him get there..

The dinner went smoothly. Two hours passed by way too soon, and it was already time to go back home, but you were hoping you could both do this again sometime really soon.

The both of you gasped in pure shock the moment you entered your apartment. “Mylo! Get off of her!” heeseung shirked, but it was a bit too late for that. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry,” heeseung quickly apologized as you closed your apartment door and stood outside with a shocked expression, trying to take in the fact that the two of your babies were mating while you both were out.

“Well, I think the furniture is the least of our concerns,” you joked.

“Yeah,” heeseung laughed along with you, still a bit shocked as well. From what he could tell, Mylo wasn’t showing any signs, but he supposed it was mating season after all. Time had really flown since he started staying with you.

“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” Heeseung looked up at you, his honey-like eyes staring into your own, and just like at dinner, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from them. “You know, while they have their alone time,” you chuckled.

“Sure, a walk sounds nice,” he smiles, taking your hand in his as he helps you down the stairs. He immediately lets go the moment you reach the bottom of the steps, and you’re kinda disappointed at the loss of contact, but you and him didn’t have a relationship quite like that, so holding your hand would be a bit inappropriate at the moment. “So I guess we’re gonna have a bunch of baby Mylas and Mylo’s running around the apartment.”

“I guess so.” You still couldn’t believe that they actually mated. That was the last thing on your mind when you guys left for dinner.

“Ohh, I already have some names,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Myah for a girl and Myles for a boy.”

“That’s really cute, heeseung, but surely we can’t keep all those puppies,” you say. Of course, you wanted them, but where would they all go?

“We can’t keep them?” Heeseung pouts.

“Where would we put them all? She’s gonna have at least four, and that’s at least,” you exclaimed. You heard they could have up to 15, and if that happened, you were going to be in for a real surprise.

“Yeah….you’re right,” he replies, already sulking cause he couldn’t keep all the baby puppies.

“We can keep the puppies.” You tell him to lighten his mood and his eyes light up right away as he looks at you.

“Really?!” He says excitedly.

“But,” you say sharply. “When they grow, we have to take them to a shelter or something.” his shoulders immediately slump down again.

You really aren’t sure what’s going on in that little noggin of his, but did he really think you could have an apartment full of adult shepherds?

“Okay,” he literally sounded just like a child who couldn’t get their way, and you shook your head softly, deciding to deal with that problem a bit further down the road.

“So…” you continued your little walk, enjoying what was left of the warm weather. “Did you enjoy your time?”

“I loved it. I haven’t had so much fun in ages. Do you think we could go out again sometime soon?” You smile softly, nodding your head. One thing you liked about Heeseung was that he was never shy about showing his gratitude and thankfulness. “I know I already said it, but I’m gonna keep saying it. Thank you for everything.” he came to a stop and turned to you. “You really saved my life, y/n, and I mean it. Without you, I would have lost hope by now.”

“Nonsense,” you laughed it off. You weren’t going to take all the credit for his hard work over the years.

“No, really, I was giving up until you came along and gave me something to look forward to. Gave me some type of hope that if I just held on a little longer, something special would come my way or someone special.” he took a step closer, his eyes locked on your lips until they darted to your eyes before he engulfed you in a hug and again you were a bit disappointed cause you really, really thought he might have kissed you with they way he looked at your lips, but you’re sure you just imagine that cause who were you kidding? He probably didn’t even like you like that, plus your relationship was purely platonic, so it’d be weird if he kissed you, even though you really wished he did.

“You’re gonna make me cry, heeseung.” You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close.

“Please do. I don’t want to be the only one crying here,” he chuckles as warm tears roll down his cheeks.

“Okay,” you laugh slightly, your own tears now wetting his dress shirt.

Eventually, it got late, and after his heartfelt confession, you both went home. If you didn’t catch Mylo and Myla in the act, you’d think they slept the whole time while you and heeseung were gone, but no.

You and heeseung tiptoed together down the hall so you wouldn’t wake the babies and finally go your separate ways after spending the whole day and night together. “Thanks again for today. Goodnight y/n,”

“Goodnight, hee,” you whisper, and he only registered what you called him once you closed the door, and he went to sleep with a silly little smile on his face from the nickname you’d given to him.

☕️.

“So Hoon, this is my good friend heeseung, and you’ll be training him today.” your vacation was over, and this was heeseung’s first day on the job, so the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. You were so excited you got to work with him on his first day.

“Woah Woah Woah, I never signed up for any of this. When did you become the boss?” Sunghoon raised his brow with a teasing look.

“I’m not the boss, but I’m the boss of you, so you do what I say.” You put your hands on your hips, speaking matter-of-factly.

“Yes, boss,” he saluted, making you giggle. “Hi, my name is Sunghoon.” he quickly turned to heeseung, shaking his hand politely.

“Hi, I’m heeseung.” sunghoon nodded and focused his attention back to you.

Heeseung just stood there awkwardly, watching you and Sunghoon laugh and converse amongst yourselves. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling when he saw you and Sunghoon talking, but whatever it was didn’t feel good, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Heeseung just moped around for the time being, looking at all the different coffee machines until you two had finally stopped talking. “Alright, time to get you familiar around here. My name is Sunghoon, and wait, I already said that. Never mind, just follow me.” he put his arm on heeseung’s back and led him to the back while you gave him an excited little wave.

Hours passed by, and the training was going smoothly. Sunghoon had no doubts about your friend. He’d do just perfect here. “I knew you’d be good at this. With your skills and that face; you’ll be getting all my tips in no time,” Sunghoon laughed.

“What do you mean? Your tips? Is that like a good thing?” Heeseung asked curiously.

“Well, good for you, bad for me,” he chuckled. “If you think you’re ready, I can show you how to take orders as early as today.”

“Oh yes, I’m ready,” Heeseung said, determined he wanted to know everything so he could perform his absolute best. Ever since he stepped into the building, he wanted to prove himself and be the best worker he could be.

When the customers started coming in, heeseung was a bit nervous in the beginning, but he got over it after the first few customers and took the orders smoothly. Just after one day, he was already proficient in everything, which was kinda scary to Sunghoon but also very good.

“What did you do to him?” You asked Sunghoon as you both watched him working away from the back. He was handling each customer so professionally it took you at least a week to get that comfortable, and here he is doing it all in one day.

“Don’t blame this on me. You’re the one who brought that freak of nature in here.” sunghoon put his hands up in defense, going to make some of the orders heeseung was taking.

“You’re doing great.” you walked up to heeseung when things started to slow down a bit. “And it’s only your first day,” you congratulated him, patting him on his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks.” he was still feeling weird from what happened earlier, and he didn’t feel like talking much right now unless he had to. Whatever this stupid feeling was in his chest, he hoped it’d go away soon so he could focus on work fully.

“Boss will want you at full-time right away,” you smiled.

“Cool,” he forced a laugh as some more customers came through the door.

Odd, you thought, but shook it off. He seemed to be acting different all day, but he was probably a little stressed from taking on so much work in one day. “Here, $1,76 is your change, and your order will be right out.” he smiled politely at the customer as you watched from a distance while cleaning tables.

The customer in said topic was absolutely beautiful; she had long blonde hair, blue eyes, a pretty smile, and perfect skin. To top it all off, she was so polite.

You knew heeseung was just doing his job, but to see him smiling at her so brightly while he barely acknowledged you at all today made your stomach turn.

But you shook that off, too, cause you and heeseung weren’t dating, and you were just being a little irrational at this point.

Heeseung was the same with you throughout the rest of the shift, and even when you guys went home, he wasn’t talkative. He didn’t eat dinner, and he barely managed to mumble out a goodnight before he went to his room and never came back out for the rest of the night, which was especially odd because he always used to want to watch TV with you before bed.

You just sighed, wondering what could be on his mind and making him act so differently towards you, but again, you chalked it up to stress and hoped he’d be feeling better by tomorrow after a good night's rest.

Needless to say, you went to bed in a sour mood, hoping the next morning would be better.

☕️.

Except it wasn’t.

The girl that you had been envious of previously came back the very next day.

Your blood was already boiling the moment she came in, and you had grown tired of her overly affectionate attitude towards him very quickly.

At first, you weren’t too bothered. You thought she was just being polite to him, which was fine, but when she came back and started making small talk with your ma- heeseung, you could barely even hold it together, and what made it all worse was that he still wasn’t acting like himself. He rarely talked to you at all this morning and if he did it was only if he needed help with something.

Yet he was perfectly fine with chatting away with her. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You couldn’t help but wonder.

“If looks could kill, that girl would be six feet under,” Sunghoon chimes as if you needed his two cents right now.

“Whatever.” You tossed the towel over your shoulder, going to the back to wash down some dishes so you wouldn’t have to hear her, but you still did, unfortunately, and what you heard next made you take an early break.

“Here’s my number. I was thinking we could go out on a date sometime,” she handed him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“O-oh,” heeseung blushed a little. This was the first time he’d ever been asked out before, well, except for you, but that was different, and he didn’t really know what to say or do. “Okay, yeah, sure, we can go out sometime.” he smiles a little awkwardly.

“Great! Bye, cutie,” she waved to him, and he stood there with the biggest smile on his face.

“Bye,” he said softly, and he tucked the number safely into his back pocket.

You took your apron off and slammed it on the back counter before taking a break.

You knew you were overreacting, but you just needed a minute for this to all settle in, but before you could even let your frustrations out. Heeseung was sitting right next to you, and you had to play off your anger and disguise it as being tired. “Hey, y/n, how come you’re taking a break so early?” Heeseung was finally starting to feel a little bit more like himself now that you and Sunghoon weren’t literally joined at the hip. He felt like he could get your attention back on him, at least while on break, that is.

“Just tired,” you reply, completely uninterested in having a conversation right now.

“Ah, I see.” he clears his throat. “I’ll ask you later then.”

“It’s fine, hee,” you tell him, and he goes ahead and continues on.

His heart started to beat quicker hearing the nickname you gave him, but he did his best to compose himself.“So, like, this girl just asked me out.” Oh no, you really wish you hadn’t told him to tell you because this is the last thing you want to hear about right now. “And I’m really nervous about it because I’ve never been asked out on a date before,” he picked at his nails.

So he didn’t think of the other night he spent with you as a date?

Ouch.

But again, you guys weren’t dating, so it really wasn’t a date, even if you really wanted it to be. “That’s great! Heeseung, it’s okay to be nervous on your first date.” You patted his shoulder comfortingly despite feeling a growing ache in your chest.

“I just don’t want to mess it up or make a fool out of myself, you know?” He poured out his worries to you. “Cause, as you know, I have a habit of saying too much sometimes,” he laughs softly.

“You won’t, hee, I promise.” you smile and stand up, not having the physical or mental strength to talk to him about this any longer cause the thought of him with another girl that isn’t you was tearing you apart inside which you know is stupid because you’ve never even made any advances towards him. Still, you just wanted to take things slow, apparently, though that wasn’t the best approach cause someone had gotten to him before you could work up the courage to. “Just be yourself.”

“Just be myself,” he whispered while you were walking away. He took the piece of paper with the number on it out of his pocket and looked at it. “She’s right.” he stayed outside on the back steps, enjoying the last little bit of his break.

☕️.

“Y/n! I’m heading out now. Could you tell me how I look?” You heard heeseung shouting from the living room while you were lying in bed with a headache cause all week, all he did was talk about his stupid date, and all week, you had to pretend that you were happy for him.

“You look good,” you said once you went to the living room and saw him standing there in a very, very attractive outfit.

“O-oh,” he looked down at his outfit, rethinking his choice cause whenever you called him handsome, he felt confident, but since you said he just looked good, he started feeling a little self-conscious about himself. “Just good? Not handsome?” He pouted.

You sighed and walked closer to him. “No, hee, you look handsome as always. Go and enjoy your date, okay?” You corrected his tie, took a little piece of lint off his top, and patted his chest.

“Yes, ma'am,” he smiles as he exits the door, feeling warm inside after getting your approval.

☕️.

You were literally seething on your bed, and you couldn’t take it, knowing that the man you liked was out on a date with some girl who probably didn’t even deserve him.

You almost knew for a certainty she only asked him out that day cause of his looks. It’s not like she gave him food and money when he was on the street. Where was she when he was alone and scared? Exactly, absolutely nowhere.

But you were and still are and always will be.

But you knew that was a stupid way of thinking. He doesn’t have to be obligated to like you just cause you willingly took care of him, but still, you wished he felt the same way about you that you felt for him.

As sad as it was, though, you were still happy for him. He’s come so far, and he deserves to be happy after all he’s been through. You just wanted him to be happy even if things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to, even if you weren’t the one that made him happy.

When ten o’clock came, heeseung was thanking his stars because he had the absolute worst time ever. He thought he was gonna have fun like the dinner you took him out on, and it was everything but that.

He knocked softly on the door, hoping you were still awake at this hour. “Hi, y/n,”

“Hey, hee, did you have fun?” You asked after calming yourself down from all the negative thoughts that you had previously.

“Oh gosh, no, she kept asking me to drink, and I don’t drink. I tried it, though, and it was really bad, and then out of nowhere, she tried to kiss me, and I obviously declined because I wasn’t interested, plus her breath smelled like alcohol, and then she got upset, and we didn’t even get dessert” he pouted. “And she kept asking if I wanted to Netflix and chill. I don’t even know what Netflix is, and to my knowledge, we were already chilling,” he whined, going on and on about the horrors of his date.

Something told you he didn’t have much experience in the dating scene either, and you had to stifle your laugh because he looked so adorable and clueless. After hearing about his date you knew your suspicions about her liking him just for his looks were true, but you still couldn’t believe she was that forward with him, especially drinking on the first date.

“I’m sorry. We have ice cream in the freezer. Are you still up for some dessert?” You suggested hoping to save his terrible night with a sweet treat.

“Yes, please,” he sighed. All he wanted was to change his clothes and spend some time with you after his horrible date. “Y/n, what’s Netflix and chill?” He asked innocently while you both sat at the table and ate ice cream together. This was already ten times better than his date.

Oh, boy, were you in for a ride. Not only did you have to explain to him what Netflix and chill was, but you also had to tell him about why people typically asked other people out on dates and the expressions he made once he realized that were precious but also hilarious.

“Eww, no, No Netflix and chill, just dessert,” he whined. He knows better than to go on a date again, if you could even call it that.

“Okay, just dessert,” you laughed and ruffled his hair, serving him and yourself some more ice cream. You both went to the living room and cozied up on your sofa, watching some TV and enjoying each other’s presence for the rest of the night.

☕️.

You felt bad for liking the fact that heeseung’s date went bad, but you quickly erased those silly thoughts from your head. He was single, and he could be with whoever he liked, and you accepted that, which you’re so glad you did cause, apparently, he was the most wanted man; everyone at the cafe was fawning over him, not just you and Sunghoon but guys and girls too. It was busier than ever after he got hired there. The tips they left for him were insane, not to mention all the numbers he got from women. he just ignored them, though, after that horrible date he went on, he wasn’t up for going on another one anytime soon, besides hanging out with a girl that wasn’t you just didn’t feel right to him anyway. No one made him feel safe and comfortable to be himself like you did.

He was already having a rough day after his failed date last night. On top of all the compliments, small talk, and outward flirting he was getting, it was just a little exhausting, and when he saw you and “Hoon” talking, it just soured his mood even more, that same weird feeling bubbling up in his chest, again. “Y/n, can you help me with the register, please?” He knew darn well he didn’t need any help, but if it stopped you from talking to that guy you called Hoon, then he was more than happy to pretend he needed help. “Thanks, y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” he smiles and awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder, attempting to show you some type of affection even though he doesn’t really know how.

You do your best to hide your flustered state and reply. “You’re welcome. I’m always here for you.” You placed your hand over his, which was still lingering on you, sending jolts of electricity through his body, awakening all the little butterflies in his tummy.

Not even five minutes later, after your guy’s little moment, you were in the back with Sunghoon talking again about god knows what while heeseung used every last tactic to split you guys up, but somehow, you always found your way back together again.

“You need some help?” Sunghoon asked heeseung, who was angrily scrubbing away at the dishes after closing.

“No,” he said without even looking at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon smiled a knowing smile. Heeseung was so obvious it was adorable. “I know you like y/n, and I know you think we have something going on, but I’m taken, and y/n and I are just really close friends.” he could see the jealousy just oozing off of heeseung for the whole day the same jealousy that was oozing off you just a week prior.

“What are you on about? I don’t like y/n like that, and if you guys are dating, I don’t care either,” he replied harshly.

“Pretty sure she likes you too, and maybe when you’re not looking like you want to bite my head off, you could ask her out,�� Sunghoon jokes.

“She does?” heeseung says excitedly, his eyes lighting up, causing Sunghoon to let out a hearty laugh. “Wait,” heeseung sighs. “I-I'm sorry, I just don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what the heck is happening to me,” he pouts, unknowingly dropping the sponge he was using in the sink, his shoulders soon deflating in defeat.

“You’re jealous you’re in love, and you’re confused about it, and you don’t know it, that’s it.” sunghoon pats heeseung’s shoulders. “But no worries, once you ask her out, it’ll all be fine. Trust me, I was just like you before I got with my girl.”

Heeseung gives him a small smile. “You think she likes me back? It doesn’t seem like it,” heeseung said innocently. His mind couldn’t help but wander back to the time you said kissing him on the cheek was a mistake. Since that day, he just gave up hope that you would like him back altogether.

“She likes you back,” Sunghoon assured him. “She definitely likes you back,” he says, remembering all the jealous glares you were giving to the customers today.

“O-oh, okay,” he blushed. “When should I do it?”

Oh brother, where did you find him? Oh yeah, on the street. “When it feels right,” he gave heeseung a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “Now go home with y/n. I’ll finish up here.” he took heeseung’s spot in front of the sink.

“But-“

“It’s alright, just go home,” heeseung thanked him profusely and already thought of a million ways to repay him the next time he saw him.

☕️.

When it feels right.

It always feels right. He thinks he feels right whenever he’s with you. Right now, being on the couch while you sit and watch TV together feels right. “Y/n? Can I ask you a question?” You shift your attention to heeseung, who is already turned towards you, looking at you with a serious expression on his face.

“Of course.” You turned down the volume on the TV so you could answer his question while giving him your full attention.

“I like you. Do you want to go out on a date with me?” He says softly, eyes showing heavy emotion as he waits for your answer. He’s a little tense and really nervous, but he’s still smiling, that pretty little smile of his.

Your ears must be wrong or something cause there’s no way the Lee Heeseung wanted you to go on a date with him.

Not when he has people lined up quite literally asking him for his number on a daily basis.

But when he stares at you, not saying anything else and waiting patiently for your answer, you realize that he is indeed asking you to go out with him, and he’s one hundred percent serious. “Yes, heeseung, I would love that!” You all but jump on his lap excitedly. “Of course, I want to go on a date with you!”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, hands automatically wrapping around your torso. “Okay,” he breathed the deep breath he was holding for the last minute. “I can’t wait,” he mutters.

“Me neither,” you whisper, getting lost in his sweet brown eyes.

“Do you want to go now?” He doesn’t want to rush it, but he really wants to spend another day with you, like the one you both celebrated during his employment.

“Sure, hee, we can go now.” You smile at him, unable to contain your excitement.

“Okay!” He returns your smile and goes to his room to get dressed cause, of course, he has to look handsome for you.

Meanwhile, you’re squealing onto the couch, ruffling your hair cause you were about to go insane lee heeseung actually liked you back and wanted to take you out for a date.

When you looked up, Mylo and Myla were staring at you with their eyes wide and ears pulled back from your loud shrieks. “Don’t judge me,” you pointed at them and ran to your room to get dressed and ready for your date with heeseung.

☕️.

After you both stood in the living room for at least five minutes complimenting each other's outfits like broken records, you finally left the house.

It was all fun asking you out, but when it came to the part about actually going out, Heeseung didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know how to drive, so he was already feeling a bit self-conscious when you had to drive. He hadn’t received his first check yet, so he couldn’t even treat you, and now his mood was down.

You were both having a good conversation, but he got lost in thought, wondering what you’d think about him not being the one taking the initiative. After all, he was taking you on a date, not the other way around. “Hee, are you okay?” You ask when you saw him completely zoned out.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he sighed, fake smiling at you, and he couldn’t help but think after tonight, you’d probably never want to go back out with him ever again. Little did he know you were having the best night of your life. You weren’t thinking about how he didn’t drive you. You weren’t thinking about how he didn’t pay. All you were thinking about was how much fun you were having with him and how lucky you were to be out on a date with the person you liked for what felt like forever.

“No, you’re not. You haven’t even touched your ice cream, and you love ice cream.” You furrow your brows, wondering what changed so suddenly, everything was going fine, and then suddenly it wasn’t.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he apologized out of nowhere, making the situation even more confusing for you. Before you could even ask why, he went on to explain. “I know you’re disappointed with our date, but I just want you to know that when I get my check, I’ll take you out somewhere. I promise I’ll pay for everything, and with all the tips I’ve been getting, I’ve been saving up for a car, and I know I haven’t even paid you back yet, but I swear I will and-“

“Heeseung, what are you even saying?” You ask him in disbelief.

How could he possibly think you were disappointed? You were literally having the best night of your life all thanks to him.

“I’m saying that I’m still just a useless bum, and I’m sorry I can’t give you more.” Your heart breaks when you see his eyes begin to water. The now beautiful date outside on the balcony all of a sudden turned gloomy.

“Hee…” You place your hand over his, and he retracts it, resting his hand on his lap as he looks down. “No,” you whisper and scoot your chair next to his, leaning into his side. “I don’t want more; I just want you.” he looks up, his teary gaze meets yours, and your eyes look so beautiful and sincere that he can’t help but get lost in them. “I don’t care how much you have or how much you don’t have. I just want you.” You cup his cheek, stroking it softly with your thumb. “But if you insist on giving me more than kiss me,” he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly tries to compose himself, which you find adorable like everything else he does. At least a minute passes before he even moves, but you don’t mind cause you’d wait forever for him.

“But-“

“Kiss me, hee, please,” and he does just that. His eyes slowly flutter shut. The last image he remembers is of your beautiful eyes and your soft, puckered lips. As he leans in, placing his lips on yours, his body heats up immediately, and the chills he had gotten from the ice cream prior completely wither away. He lifts his hand, cupping your cheek as well while his warm lips rest against yours, and the kiss is so soft, so sweet, so delicate that he almost feels like he’s going to cry cause he’s never felt anything like it ever and seconds later he does cry a stray tear rolling down his cheek as he reluctantly separates himself from you.

He never said it to anyone, not even his adoptive parents, but for some reason that he can’t pinpoint, the words just come out of his mouth like it was just any ordinary thing to say to someone. “I love you.” When he hears himself, his eyes widen, almost like he was scared of what your reaction would be, and you laugh softly cause he was always such a sweetheart.

Your own eyes get teary while you swipe the tear off his cheek. “I love you too.” his whole body melts, relaxing into your touch as his smile spreads so wide that it reaches you, and you can’t help but smile back as he sniffles softly.

At that moment, you didn’t have a doubt in the world when you said those words to him. If anything, it felt natural, like a weight had been lifted, and you had finally poured out all your feelings that you kept bottled up for so long, and it felt amazing.

While you were staring at him, he pecked your lips again before pulling away.

No words needed to be spoken. The love reflected in each of your eyes, and as the night continued, it was filled with laughter, longing smiles, and endless shy glances as you took turns feeding each other the now melted ice cream, but somehow, even though it was melted, it tasted sweeter this way.

☕️.

Hand in hand, you both walked to the same little dog park that you and he went to the day he left. You were so glad those days were behind you. You both sat on the bench together, reminiscing about the first day you both met.

“And you remember when you yelled at me at the cafe?” You asked, laughing softly.

“Oh god,” he hides in the crook of your neck, whining about the embarrassing memories. “I’m still so sorry for that.”

“You were like, I don’t need your help. Just leave me alone,” you teased him further. At the time, it wasn’t exactly a laughing matter, but looking back at it now, it was funny, especially to see how far you both come now.

“I remember,” he sighed. “It was the night before that group of assholes attacked us. You had given me some cash, I went to the convenience store and bought Mylo some food, but before I could pay, I saw that they were messing with Mylo, so I ran outside, and next thing you know, they’re running off, I went back in the store, grabbed my change and left without a second thought and then the next day I had an interview which went horribly by the way, so I take the bus back home, but before that, I went to the cafe and placed my order and when I went to pull out the money I’m short cause that cashier took my change” you listen intently to his story, that was a lot happening in the short time span of a day.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. It must have been so hard.” You kissed his cheek, your hand moving to the back of his head to play with his hair as he nuzzled into your neck.

“It was baby,” he sighed. “So hard.” The pet name slips out without him even knowing, and it makes your heart beat like ten times faster cause he called you baby. You were literally screaming inside.

“So you tried to get work in the past?” You ask, toying with the little hairs on his nape as his eyes fall shut, enjoying the sensation of your warm fingers on his skin. He could stay like this forever.

“Hmm, many times, and I failed many times. I prefer not to go into detail if you don’t mind,”

“It’s okay, I understand.” You kissed the crown of his head.

“A lot happened in the past nine years, but it was mainly just me finding different alleyways to sleep, going days without food. People judging me for being homeless, which wasn’t fair because they didn’t even know my situation,” he leaned back, sitting up straight, your hand still resting on the back of his head. “I didn’t choose to be homeless. I was forced. What would anyone else do if they were being abused at home? Just sit there and take it, no? So I left, and I never looked back, and even after all the stuff I’ve been through and how bad I’ve been treated just for having less than someone else, it was still better because, in some twisted way, it was better to get hit and yelled at by strangers than your own family you know?” He sniffles, unable to hide his emotions when talking about his past. “Since my real parents turned their backs on me, I turned my back on people, and that’s why when you tried to help me, I assumed you were just like the rest, just giving me money cause you pitied me, and that’s the last thing I wanted cause it made me feel pathetic, made me feel like I was incapable, made me feel weak and useless” he wipes away some of his tears as you rub his back. “But you just wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he laughs, and you smile softly despite the tears you had shed somewhere when he was telling you his story. “That day down that alley, that’s when I knew you were different cause no one had ever gone through that much trouble just for me, and I still think about that day every day. You literally saved me from my old life. You gave me something to look forward to, and you gave me a reason to keep going. It’s funny telling you this now, but the time I left after you took me in, I thought about all our moments together, but one stood out to me the most,” he smiles.

“What’s that?” You say, swiping his cheek where the tears had dried up.

“I thought to myself about that day when you offered me cream with my coffee.” You furrow your brows, wondering where he was going with this. “Before you, I used to just drink plain black coffee, and after you, I started to drink it with cream.” he held your hand in his thumb, circling the back of it. “And from that moment on, I always said to myself, you were the cream to my coffee. You brightened the dark, bland beverage with light and sweetness, and since that day, I’ve never had black coffee.”

The smile that grew on your face was probably the most genuine, sincere, pure thing heeseung had ever laid his eyes on.

You couldn’t help but hug him so tight, his words hitting every nerve in your body, lighting it up with nothing but pure joy and happiness. You had no idea he thought that highly of you. Sure, you went out of your way to help him, but the fact he said you literally saved him warmed your heart to no end, and if you had the chance, you’d gladly do it all over again. “I love you, coffee,” you confessed, your hands still tightly wrapped around his waist.

“And I love you, cream,” he grins as the sun sets behind you two, bringing this lovely date to its end.

☕️.

“So, did you ask her?” Sunghoon whispers to heeseung while you’re obliviously taking orders.

Heeseung enthusiastically nods his head. “She said yes, and we went out together,” he nearly squeals.

“Ha! I told you!” Sunghoon pinched heeseung on the cheek, making the elder male turn an even brighter shade of red.

“Told what?” You went to the back, where heeseung and Sunghoon looked to be talking and slacking off.

“What? Told who? What happened? I didn’t hear anything. Did you hear anything?” Sunghoon rambles.

“Nope, nothing!” Heeseung practically shouts his reply as you stare at the two in confusion.

“Is that dust? Wow, you know what? I think that’s dust, haha. Let me just squeeze by here.” Sunghoon leaves to go clean the imaginary dust, leaving heeseung all by himself.

“Am I missing something here?” You ask.

“No, nope, nothing at all,” his response is quick as he goes back to washing dishes, and you finished making the orders like nothing ever happened.

“Strange,” you mumbled but shrugged it off, besides heeseung and Sunghoon seemed fine the rest of the day, so you didn’t question it again.

“Hey, y/n, I was thinking if you want, we could go on another date today. You know, if you want, you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re probably tired from work, and I thought it might be nice just to maybe go out and relax, but yeah, you know, actually, never mind because you-“

You quickly cut him off with a soft kiss on his lips. Luckily, most of the customers had cleared out by now, giving you the green light to show affection to your adorable co-worker. “I’d love to.” You walk away from him with a smile while he stands there like a deer in the headlights, softly touching his lips.

“Uhh yeah, okay,” he completely drops what he’s doing and goes from behind the register to clean the tables, even though you were already doing that.

“Heeseung?” You call to him cause he is literally right next to you, helping you clean the same exact table.

“Hmm?” He hums.

“The register isn’t going to count itself,” you tell him playfully, noticing how ever since you kissed him, he seemed like he was slightly out of it.

“O-oh, okay.” he acknowledged what you said but hadn’t fully processed it yet. “Ohhhhhhhh right, yeah right.” his ears turned bright red, and he scurried on back to the register diligently counting the drawer, and you shook your head softly.

He was impossible.

☕️.

The date was going great. Of course, heeseung loved every last bit of it. He could literally go on a date with you every single day. That’s just how much he loved being with you, except there was a one tiny little problem, nothing major, but he was just so lost in thought. What were you talking about? Well, he doesn’t exactly know. He can’t listen because he’s been thinking about asking you this for weeks now, and when you take a small break from talking, he slips it in. It’s so out of place for anyone else, but it’s perfect for him. “Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He struggles to make eye contact with you. His eyes are shaking, and his heart is racing, yet he just can’t seem to look away from you, no matter how shy or flustered he gets.

You were talking about work one moment, and the next, your very handsome date is asking you to be his girlfriend. You’re stunned, you’re shocked, flabbergasted, and every other term used for astonishment when he asks you that, and all you can do is smile, which automatically makes him smile and he’s hoping that’s a good sign.

His eyes gleam with hope, and your eyes gleam with nothing but joy as a few tears well in them. “Yes, heeseung, I would love nothing more than to be your girlfriend.” You nod softly, an even bigger smile gracing his lips now that you’ve said yes.

“Great!” He says, followed by a laugh, getting a bit teary-eyed himself. “Why do we always end up crying when we’re together?” He jokes, his smile turning into a slight frown as he breaks out in tears of happiness.

You giggle through tears and reach your hand out, intertwining your fingers together with his.

“My girlfriend,” he whispers, bringing your hand to his mouth and placing a soft kiss on it.

“My boyfriend,” he grins, and he doesn’t think that his life could be any better than being here with you right now. He’d do it all over again just to be sitting here staring into your beautiful eyes, calling you his.

☕️.

The whole way back home, heeseung just couldn’t seem to part from you, and neither could you. He’d hold your hand, or you’d rest your hand on his knee while driving home; even when he got out of the car to get the door for you, he glued his hand to yours again, helping you upstairs to your little apartment.

Normally, after a date, you’d both say your goodnights and get ready for bed, but tonight was different. Once you set the keys down on your little coffee table, he just stood in the living room staring at you, almost like he wanted to say something or do something. The feeling was very much mutual as you walked closer and closer to him, placing your hands on his waist; when he leaned in, that was the only sign you needed to close the distance between the both of you as you captured his lips in a soft kiss.

He hummed softly, his hands mimicking yours, encircling your waist. After a few seconds, you’d both separate, but this time, the kiss lasted a bit longer than all the previous pecks you had given each other.

The more you took his breath away, the needier the kiss became. He dragged you closer, pressing your body flush against his. His tongue, messily searching for an opening to push between your lips that were closed but soon opened up for him.

Your teeth clash in the beginning, and the kiss is a bit messy and uncoordinated until you both get the hang of it.

Needless to say, you’re both just as inexperienced as each other. You were too busy with school for boys, and heeseung, as sad as it is, didn’t even have a prospect of any intimacy, but he’s okay with that cause it was worth saving himself all for you.

“Y/n,” he whispers on your lips, nails digging into your hips as he backs you up to the couch, and you sit down. He climbs on top of you, hands going to cup your cheeks. As he deepens the kiss, your head feels light, your body is warm to the touch, and you don’t know where this is going, but you don’t want it to stop.

He straddles your waist, practically sitting on your lip, his lower body grinding softly. He doesn’t notice this, but you do and place your hands on his hips, guiding his movements as you both kiss like your lives depend on it.

You slip your hands under his shirt, fingers tracing the warm flesh of his waist as he whimpers into your mouth.

He pulls away for a nanosecond to take a breath before locking his lips together with yours again. “Y/n,” he moans when his bulge brushes against you.

You gasped into his mouth, the new and foreign feeling making your body alight with excitement. You trace your hand down to the front of his jeans. It’s almost automatic how you do it despite not having prior experience, but it just feels right.

“O-oh,” he moans, pulling away from the kiss and breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening to his body.

“Sorry, was that too much?” he shakes his head no immediately.

“No, it just feels so,” he gulped, his eyes falling shut. “Overwhelming,” he laughs slightly, trying to pinpoint exactly what he’s feeling.

“Feels that way for me, too.” You bat your eyelashes, lips glossy and swollen from all the kissing.

“Yeah?” He smiles, nudging his forehead against yours before going in for another quick kiss, and this time, you slip your hand into the band of his pants, touching him over his underwear.

“F-uck” he trembles, body shuddering while you massage his length, and he can’t even kiss you properly anymore. “T-too much.” You take your head out of his pants, muttering another apology. “No, please don’t apologize. It felt so good,” he breathes out. “Too good,” he chuckles softly while stroking your cheek. “I just think that maybe we should wait,” he suggests, and that option sounds good to you cause you’re not sure if you could go all the way with him right now without feeling like your heart was going to explode.

“Yeah, let’s wait.” You cup his face and peck his lips.

“Okay.” there’s no denying that both of you are wet and throbbing with need, but the timing was everything, and you wanted your first time to be something that you both remember as the best time of your lives, not to say it wasn’t but in the needy state you both were in taking it slow might be for the best.

He pecks your lips one last time before climbing off of you. “But if it’s not too much to ask, could we maybe sleep together tonight?” he plays with your fingers, eyeing you while he awaits your answer..

“It’s not too much to ask,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to your bathroom so you can both get changed and clean up before bed. Besides, Mylo and Myla had overrun his room, so he didn’t have much choice. It was your bed or the couch, and you were definitely not letting him sleep alone on the couch.

☕️.

“You’re not the only one with a girlfriend.” heeseung was up early in the morning, far earlier than you. He had already taken both dogs out for a walk and made breakfast for you both. “Looks like we both got the girl after all,” he chuckled and poked Mylo on his stomach playfully as he rolled over and wagged his tail. “We made it, boy,” he whispers softly, lying down next to him on the floor. “No more sleeping bags, no more alleys, no more winters all gone,” he cheers, playing with Mylo's floppy ears. “And all the treats you could want.” he opens the bag of treats, feeding him a little more than he probably should, but he deserves it. “Our girls are beautiful, aren’t they?” He giggles. “Most perfect girls in the world.” The whole while he’s going on and on about you and Myla, you secretly watch him from the hallway, your heart feeling full of nothing but love as he plays with Mylo.

“Morning, hee,” you greet him, and his head snaps in your direction. He jumps up from his spot, hugging you immediately.

“Morning, my love! Mwah,” he kisses your cheek, leading you straight to the kitchen where breakfast is all laid out. “I was waiting for you.” he pulls out a chair, beckoning for you to sit down in front of the many fruits and varieties of food he cooked all by himself.

He sits beside you, practically joined at the hip, but you don’t mind, you loved being close to him. “Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and he blushed. Gosh, he was so adorable.

“Try it!” He says anxiously with a smile, hoping that you liked what he prepared since he didn’t do a lot of cooking, but he tried really hard for you.

You excitedly try the first bite, and your eyes light up immediately. “Hmm, it’s delicious, hee!” You say, going back for another bite. He breathes a sigh of relief and picks up his fork to eat with you.

“Glad you like it, baby,” he kissed your cheek.

You were both eating in silence, enjoying the morning together, until you heard soft whimpering coming from under the table. You looked down to see Myla curling up around your feet. “Oh, my poor baby.” You reach under the table, patting her head softly.

“What’s wrong, girly?” Heeseung leaned down, taking in her state. She looked fine earlier. “Do you think?” You nod softly, already knowing what he’s getting at. “Hmm, should we take her to the vet?”

“I guess” You leaned up, resting your head on heeseung’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, it’s mylos fault.” heeseung glared over at him, who was peacefully lying down in the living room still.

“Heeseung, it’s fine,” you giggle. “She’ll be fine”

“Yeah, she will,” he agrees as you both continue with breakfast.

An hour later, heeseung cleaned up the kitchen while you took a shower before work. Mylo was now sleeping next to Myla in their twin bed.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you pouted. Heeseung had the day off, but unfortunately, you didn’t, meaning you’d have to be away from him for eight whole hours for the first time.

“Me too, but at least I’ll be able to check on Myla.” he stood up from the couch, back hugging you. “Be safe, okay? And call me on break if you get the chance.” he kissed your neck softly, and you melted into his arms. “Gonna miss you so much, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his hands along your curves. “Think about me, yeah? I’ll for sure be thinking of you.” You’re not sure if he was aware of the way he was making your body feel so early in the morning, but you assume not when you turn around and you’re met with the most innocent smile ever.

“I will, I promise.” his face lights up, and he leans in for a kiss before sitting back down on the couch.

“Bye!” He waved cutely, and you ran back over to the couch, kissing him again before leaving.

“Bye,” he giggles, chasing your lips again, and if you don’t leave now, you’ll be late.

☕️.

“It’s just you and me, babies.” heeseung had been laid out on the couch for the first two hours while you were gone. He’d check the time every minute and sigh when the time wasn’t going by any faster. He definitely needed a distraction; otherwise, he’d be lying down all day until you got home.

He thought of things he could do, but nothing seemed of any interest if it didn’t involve you, but then it clicked: there was one thing he could do.

He left the couch, going to take a quick shower and then prepping Myla for a trip to the vet. He figured since he was home, he might as well; the sooner she gets checked up on, the better.

There was a vet not far from your house he remembers cause he used to pass by there every single night without fail. Luckily, it was in decent walking distance.

Once he arrived, it took at least half an hour for him to get seen, but it was well worth the wait; besides, he was free all day anyway.

“Myla?” One of the workers called, and heeseung quickly jumped to his feet as they guided him to the back. First, they checked her weight and then put her on the table where they’d be doing her check-up. Heeseung listened to everything intently, making sure to take notes of everything she should be eating, and he nearly cried when she got her blood drawn, but other than that, everything went well. She was a healthy and very pregnant dog. He also bought her a different kind of food, one that had everything she needed, and with that, he was on his way back home.

Except where you worked, which was only a few minutes away. “You wanna go say hi to mommy?” He rubbed her chin softly.

He made the short walk to the cafe, smiling brightly when he saw you behind the counter taking orders.

You were running around like a chicken with your head cut off, and the moment you heard the bell ring, your head snapped up in the direction, and you smiled, the tension in your shoulders deflating the moment you saw heeseung standing at the door.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon calls, and he nearly rolls his eyes when he sees who’s in the direction you’re looking in. “Alright, if you’re gonna stand there and be useless, you might as well take a break,” he jokes, and you turn to him, pushing him by his shoulder.

“Can I really take a break?” Your eyes gleamed at Sunghoon, and of course, he couldn’t say no to you, not only you but also your boyfriend, who was giving him puppy eyes from across the cafe.

“Yes, but you’re paying for my lunch.” he pushes you out of the way and takes on the register.

“I’ll pay for your lunches for the rest of your life. Thank you, hoon, I owe you so much.” you slip off your apron and go outside with heeseung, sitting on the outdoor chairs.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles shyly. “I was in the area, so I just thought I’d drop by.”

“That’s so sweet, and I see you have company.” You cupped Myla's face in your hands.

“Yeah, I had so much free time. I took her in today. Every single second without you feels like hours,” he sighs.

“I’m sorry, hee, only five more hours. What did they say? Is she okay?” You said, slightly worried.

“No worries, she’s fine. We just have to keep a close eye on her and make sure she gets everything she needs,” he quickly assures you.

“Can’t believe it’s almost time for her to have her babies.” You looked down at her, and her belly was really round.

“I know.” he smiles fondly at you both. “I also can’t believe your break is almost up,” he pouts.

“Hee…” you held his hand across the table, your break wasn’t almost over but you supposed thirteen minutes to him probably felt like thirteen seconds, which admittedly it felt like that for you too.

“I know, I know, it’s just I've never really been away from you this long since we kissed, and it’s harder than I thought,” he speaks his mind.

“Yeah, it is pretty hard. I keep accidentally calling Sunghoon by your name, and he’s so over it,” you giggled, causing heeseung to let out a chuckle of his own.

Once his laughter fades out, he stares at you, appreciating every last moment he spends with you. “I love you.” he holds the back of your hands to his lips, eyes falling shut as he presses soft kisses to them.

“I love you too.” Just as his lips parted from your skin, the timer you had set went off. “I’ll see you soon, baby.” You stood up, petting Myla on the head before you went back to work. “See you soon babies.”

Heeseung stood up with you, sending you off with one last hug and kiss.

After you enter the building, he sighs, a bittersweet smile on his face as you turn around and wave to him one last time.

On his way home, he thinks that being without you would definitely take him some time to get used to.

☕️.

You were on your way home, the smile never leaving your face. The closer and closer you got, you took the bus this time so you could get there even quicker.

Heeseung and both the dogs perked up as the sound of keys jingling outside the door caught all their attention. “Mommy’s home!” heeseung rushed to the door. You could barely even see inside your apartment before he engulfed you in a hug. “Thank god you’re home,” he sighs into your hair, missing your scent.

You melt in his arms immediately, all the stress from today leaving your body the instant you feel his welcoming embrace. “Missed you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“So did we,” he parts from you, letting the dogs greet you as you enter and get undressed. “I made dinner for you.” he guided you to the kitchen where the table was set. There were a few candles lit and a vase of flowers right in the middle.

“Hee, you didn’t have to.” you looked up at the set up. It was so amazing. It looked like you were at a restaurant. You never experienced anything like this before, and it was going to make you cry.

“Why? You don’t like? I can change the-" You turn to him, hands wrapping around his shoulders before he can finish whatever his sentence was.

“I don’t just like it. I love it hee; I love you so much.” You kissed him deeply, pressing your lips on his as you stroked his cheek.

“I love you too, y/n,” he whispers as you both separate from each other.

He took out a chair for you to sit on and pulled out his own to be right next to you, just like he did in the morning.

He cut into the steak he cooked, feeding you the first piece. “How’s that taste?” He hopes it tastes good, considering what it took for him to make it.

“It’s amazing, just like you.” You pecked his lips, and with that, you both ate, and he asked you to tell him all about your day. He could listen to you talk for hours.

And he did.

He talked to you throughout dinner and dessert, even while he was prepared a bath for you.

He was currently in the living room waiting for you to come out. The kitchen was already cleaned, and all that was left to do was to patiently wait for you so you both could go to sleep together.

Which wasn’t any longer than fifteen more minutes. “Hi,” you smiled and plopped down next to him on the couch, cuddling up to his side.

“Hi,” he slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Ready for bed?” He asked, stroking your back.

“Hmm, aren’t you showering too?” You asked curiously.

“I took one a little while before you came home,” he pressed in the face in your neck, placing a few gentle kisses there.

“No wonder you smell so good,” you chuckled, his kisses tickling your neck.

“You smell better,” he whispers in your ear, kissing just beneath the lobe, sending a shiver up your spine.

He grabbed your thigh, hoisting you into his lap, his lips never leaving your skin. “Hee,” you moan the moment you feel his tongue running along your skin.

He doesn’t even know what came over him, but he missed you so much today that he needed to feel you everywhere, every square inch he needed to memorize, so next time he was without you, he could imagine you in full detail.

You smelled so good, your skin so warm on his body, and the way you made sounds that he only ever heard come from your lips was all it took to set him off.

His hands were timidly resting on your waist as you moved your head so you could kiss his lips instead.

The same scenario from a few nights ago, was now unfolding again on the couch. This time, the position was a little different, but the same want and need was there.

You unknowingly started to grind your hips, your core in direct contact with the bulge in his sweats. “Y/n,” he whimpers, his head falling back against the couch as you litter his pretty neck and Adam’s apple in countless kisses.

The grip on your waist was firm, his fingertips needily digging into your skin as he began guiding your movements, pressing you down flush on his growing crotch.

“Hee,” his name mindlessly slips from your tingling lips as you lose yourself and succumb to an undiscovered yet enticing pleasure.

“You feel so good, Angel,” he groans softly. His hips evidently had a mind of theirs as he bucked them up into you, softly grinding against your heat.

“Ahh,” you mewl and hide your face in his chest. You’ve never once made a sound like that before, and you were slightly self-conscious until you heard him let out one quite similar to yours.

His hands slid up your shirt, cautiously roaming your skin and being drawn to your soft breasts almost on instinct.

The tank top he was wearing gave you access to kiss and bite at his shoulder as you rubbed yourself on him desperately.

“Seungie.” Hearing you whimpering yet another nickname that you made for him sent his mind into overdrive, the length in his pants growing harder every second.

He rolled your nipples between his fingers, giving you a different kind of pleasure. “I’m here, baby,” he cried out, the heat growing hotter and your breaths getting heavier the longer you rut against each other.

You ran your fingers through his hair desperate to feel his lips on yours once more. You lifted your head off his shoulder to find his soft pink lips.

The pace of your movements grew more rapid, and almost instantly, you both knew you wouldn’t be able to stop now, too lost in the feeling of each other's bodies. “Yes,” he hissed against your lips, meeting each of your thrusts in perfect sync.

You both pulled away, staring into each other's eyes, panting. Your hair was messy, and you were both out of breath, but your lower bodies never ceased movement until, in the corner of heeseung's eye, he noticed Mylo and Myla sleeping in their dog bed.

You leaned in for another kiss, but he quickly pointed to them. “Oops,” you giggled silently, and heeseung hoisted your legs securely around his waist, his hands on your bottom as he carried you to your bedroom, making sure to shut the door.

The air was still very much tense despite the minor pause. The bulge in his sweats was evident, as well as the wet patch on the crotch of them.

He followed your line of vision, blushing at how wet his pants were due to both your combined arousal. “Sorry,” you whisper awkwardly.

“Don’t be.” he closes the distance, kissing away the awkwardness. Your hand gripped the hem of his black tank top, tugging it upward. “Take it off, baby.” You do just that, and slip it over his head.

It wasn’t the first time you saw him like this, but given the setting you initially saw him shirtless in, thoughts of attraction were the last thing on your mind, but now.

Now, it was so different. Your hands were glued to his body, roaming his soft, freshly washed skin. Everything about him was absolutely perfect.

He blushed as he felt your small, dainty fingers touching him everywhere. “Your turn?” He tilts his head, waiting for your answer, and you nod your head, struggling to pull your hands away from him long enough for him to take your sleep shirt off.

“Yes,” you mutter quietly and his breath hitches in his throat. Just the idea of seeing you topless admittedly made him twitch in his sweats.

Button by button, one by one, he opened your shirt, revealing the most perfect beauty he’d ever laid his eyes on.

You, in your full beauty, no clothing in the way to block the magnificent sight before him.

He gulps, sliding the material off your shoulders, his eyes blown wide as they scan every inch of you.

Cupping both his hands over your chest, he groans at the softness of your breasts, and you whimper quietly in his mouth as he bends down to kiss you.

One of your hands was back in its rightful place, his left pec, while the other massaged over the tent in his sweatpants.

He moans continuously in your mouth, bucking his hips into your hand over and over again until he feels that he needs your touch skin on skin.

He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Something wrong?” You breathe against his lips.

“Mm-mm, just,” he mumbles back, guiding your hand inside his underwear so he can feel you touching his flesh. “Perfect.” he whispers and cups your cheek, his other hand still pleasuring your right breast as he deepens the kiss.

Your hand shyly runs along his length. He’s so warm, pulsing to the touch, and the glide of your hand feels so slick as you work him from tip to base.

Your nails rake down his chest, gripping the band of his sweats to pull them down.

He quickly helps you slip them down, kicking them off the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but the boxers you had bought him, but he isn’t half as shy for you to see them as he was in the supermarket. If anything, he wanted you to see and not just the boxers but everything that hid underneath them.

“My turn?” You ask with a giggle, and just like you, he nods, smiling.

“Your turn” he hooks his thumbs inside your shorts, slipping them down your beautiful legs.

He gasped when he was met with your bare body. He wasn’t expecting you to be nude under those shorts, and for a split second, he was just staring at your core glistening in the moonlit bedroom, and you just kept getting more and more beautiful by the second.

“You like what you see?” You say playfully, knocking him out of his daze as he frantically nods his head.

“So much, you’re so perfect,” the words came out of his mouth in one long drawn-out moan, flustering you to a point you thought was impossible after he had seen undressed. “I need you.” he drew your body as close to his as possible and kissed you while his hands mapped out your body.

“Then have me. I’m all yours.” he guided your hands to the waistband of his boxers, motioning that it was okay for you to take them off.

Your hands were slightly shaking with nerves and excitement as you peeled down the waistband, revealing all of him and he was

Beautiful.

“Like what you see?” He raises his brow, teasing you the same way you did to him, and somehow, the moment was both equally playful as it was sensual.

You’re so glad you both waited cause right now, everything was perfect, and before it even ended, you knew it was going to be something you’d remember for a lifetime. “You're beautiful, hee.” You kissed his chest, taking in everything. Nothing about him was flawed. Everything was perfect, even the little mole on his ear.

He hid his face in your shoulder and hugged you, strumming the length of your back with his soft fingers as you did the same. “Love you,” he pecks the top of your head.

“I love you too.” Without another word spoken, he took you to the bed, laying you flat and getting under the covers with you resting between your legs in the space you made for him.

He stroked your cheek, his eyes scanning every breathtaking feature on your face.

Your hands wrapped around his torso, pulling him into you as you shared another kiss.

He grunted softly at the contact of your lower bodies rubbing together. The feeling was so intense that it made his heart race in his chest.

You gasped, feeling him firmly pressing himself between your legs, thrusting his hips continuously as his length slipped through your glossy folds.

Only seconds after he climbed on top of you, you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to become one with the man you so deeply loved. “Hee, will you be my first?”

He leans back, his eyes blinking open slowly as his movements come to a stop. “Yes, I will,” he whispers, eyes full of nothing but pure genuine love. “With great honor,” he rubs the tip of his nose against yours.

“And y/n, will you be mine as well?” His eyes search yours, waiting for what he knows will be a yes answer.

“Yes!” You answer so enthusiastically that it makes him giggle, and he loves you so much that it almost makes him cry.

With one last kiss of approval, you hook your legs around his waist as he rests his arms beside you and angles himself to be perfectly aligned with you.

He pushes his hips forward, slowly sinking into your welcoming warmth, and he sighs in contentment as he feels you opening up just for him. “Y/n,” A gentle moan sneaks past his lips as he slips inside of you with ease with the help of your body's natural lubricants.

“Oh, hee.” You circle his shoulders, your mouth parting open and letting out the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard.

He feels so good. The warmth of your body, the way you hugged him in all the right places, and the nonstop calls of his name let him know you were feeling just as good as he did.

And you absolutely were. You felt so full in your heart, your mind, and your body. He held you so close as he made you one with him.

With every thrust, you professed your love for each other, whether that be with words, loving touches, or sounds of pleasure; you were both so in tune with one another that even at the height of pleasure, you were side by side on the edge of experiencing the greatest euphoria of all.

“You feel so amazing, Seung.” he locked his lips with yours, sealing your words off with a kiss.

“You do too, my angel, my sweet angel.” he twitched within your walls with each of his thrust. The motion was smooth, making it all the more pleasurable as your fluids mixed together and made the sweetest sounds between your conjoined bodies.

Your silky walls fluttered around his throbbing girth, tightening even more with each second that passed.

Both your moans increased in pitch, your breaths becoming erratic, as well as his movements and the constant rubbing of his abdomen against your sensitive nub brought you and him to the brink of bliss. The squeezing of your core sucking him in made him feel lightheaded as he went in and out. The sensation sending both of you the end as you covered one another in the essence of love. “I love you, y/n,” he confessed to you through a messy kiss.

“I love you, heeseung.” The number of times you both shared I love you’s was endless as the pleasure raced through every fiber of your bodies. He thrusts slowly, bringing you both down from cloud 9.

Your bodies were covered in sweat; you could barely breathe. There was a string of saliva connecting you both together, and the amount of sheer love you both felt in the moment was unlike anything either of you have ever experienced. It brought tears to both of your eyes.

He stayed still, hugging your tired body in his strong arms, never ever wanting to let you go.

You both stayed like that for a while, just sharing each other's breath and feeling your heartbeats sync and become one with the other.

He rested on his elbows, looking into your eyes and gripping your hands, clasping them with his cause. No matter what, he still just couldn’t get close enough to you, but when you kissed him, he felt complete. Every part of him was touching you, and every part of you was touching him. “Thank you for being my first, hee,” you speak up first, whispering softly to him in the vulnerable state you were both in. “It was everything I could have ever dreamed of.”

“You’re welcome. I’m so happy I can be that for you. Thank you for letting me be your first, and thank you for being my first,” he rested his forehead on yours, nudging you softly.

“You’re welcome.” The sincerity of your voice makes him melt, and he thinks after this, somehow, he loves you even more. “I love you, coffee,” you smile, stroking the back of his hand with your intertwined fingers.

“I love you, cream.”

F I N

Tap coffee for a surprise ☕️

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months

Text

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan howlett blurb #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine blurb #wolverine smut #xmen smut #deadpool and wolverine #danny speaks to the void

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imaginedisish · 2 months

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I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.

Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?

Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away

He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him.

You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction.

You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett.

His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—

“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”

You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him.

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands.

He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more.

God, you are so fucked.

You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed.

You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you.

“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room.

The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean.

“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag.

The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack.

“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to.

You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip.

“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now.

“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself.

You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt.

Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.

He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him.

“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink.

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open.

You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now.

He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you.

You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”

You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means.

His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself.

“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.”

He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in.

“It’s more than that,” you admit.

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence.

“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out.

But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”

Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.

“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours.

And then finally, it comes out.

“I want you, Lo.”

You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him.

So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.”

He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.”

And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head.

He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly.

“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say.

He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away.

“Please,” you beg again.

He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side.

“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”

He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.”

“Fuck me, please.”

He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you.

Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.

“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine.

He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.

“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again.

He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.

“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”

“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”

“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for.

He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out.

“This what you wanted?” He teases.

“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak.

“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge.

“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers.

“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?”

You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue.

“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm.

He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead.

“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”

There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”

“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.

He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”

“P-please,” you stutter.

He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest.

Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles.

His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire.

“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses.

His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster.

He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.”

Always.

It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more.

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you.

He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too.

“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted.

You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.”

The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter.

“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”

You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up.

“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”

His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them.

Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then.

He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—

“I meant it.”

You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing.

“I meant it, too.”

tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung

#logan howlett x reader #James Logan howlett x reader #Logan howlett smut #Logan howlett x reader smut #Logan howlett x you #Logan howlett x you smut #James Logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader smut #wolverine smut #Logan howlett x reader one bed #wolverine x reader one bed

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pirateprincessblog · 3 months

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prefects and t(h)reats

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you haven't been lurking the castle at night since the day you cost your house a lot of points and the slytherin prefect scolded you. long enough has passed, and you might want to start doing that again. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: harry potter universe, slytherin!seonghwa, hufflepuff!reader, smut, bit of angst (seonghwa being a piece of shit(basic slytherin) towards the reader and her friends) 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: spanking, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, semi-public?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: idk, cursing i guess 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something got fucked in the process of posting this so if you see any repeating paragraphs do let me know my eyes aren't working anymore :D !everyone is of age, regardless of the year they are in. also, i may or may not have a finger sucking kink or whatever you call that :) also, i so did NOT use a twd negan reference here. just ignore that.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"ugh! that snape will be the reason i get sent to azkaban, mark my words! i spent ages trying to perfect that mood colour changing sweater, and he just confiscated- wait, what?"

"what, what is it?"

"did our bloody house points get deducted again?"

just your luck, you need to pass by them to get to your next class. you wish you had perfected the disillusionment charm, it would be very helpful right now.

"you."

ignoring the voice that speaks clearly to you, you hug your books to your chest and quicken your pace, attempting to ascend the stone stairs and vanish into the divination classroom. suddenly, your elbows are seized by two familiar pairs of hands, drawing you back to stand before the house points display. indeed, the hourglass under the hufflepuff banner is noticeably less full than it was just the day before. and it may or may not be your fault. again.

"listen to me, honeydukes." wayne, your fellow housemate warns.

"don't call me that!" you still struggle to understand how you acquired that nickname, especially since you rarely visit honeydukes these days. that habit faded after your teeth nearly succumbed to decay from all the cotton candy and chocolate frogs.

"if you keep this up, you are going to be the reason i end up in azkaban. got it?" he points a finger at your face, causing you to stumble back.

"you have a week to get at least twenty points back. if you don't..." the other one, justin, also points his finger at you, "...i'll make your remaining years at hogwarts miserable. we are the lousiest house anyway, why do you have to make it worse?"

"yeah, what do you even do to make us lose house points?"

"i bet she pisses off prefects."

"or bothers professors outside the class, the know-it-all."

"i don't care if you have to duel harry potter himself, you'll get those points back."

"and when you do, you'll get double and triple that, and make sure we win this year."

"it is only fair, since you're costing us so much."

with each accusation hurled at you, you retreat, hoping to flee the verbal attack before tears betray you and worsen the situation. a high pitched noise invades your ears, drowning out their voices. so intent on avoiding their accusing fingers, you fail to notice the brink of the top stair until your foot falters and balance is lost. you gasp, eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold stone against your skull.

"levioso!"

yet it never comes. your body is stuck in the air, right above the stairs. all the noise and fuss has left the main hall, resulting in you being too scared to open your eyes.

"accio."

but you are forced to open them, ears picking up quiet murmuring, mainly coming from girls. your eyes meet dark brown ones, stone cold with a serious expression. his black swirly wand is directed at you, levitating your body through the air until you're brought back to the top of the stairs. you finally regain control of it, hands hurriedly fixing the robe and covering yourself.

"you fools." he speaks, eyes not leaving yours.

your lip trembles, and eyes well up with tears. park seonghwa is the one person you do not wish to anger and disappoint. your admiration for him hasn't stopped growing since the day he came to this school. park seonghwa, the slytherin prince. slender frame, porcelain skin, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump lips, dark eyes, and an immpeccable posture. he walked the castle with such grace, his cloak following him and flowing in the air behind him. whether it was magic or not, you found yourself utterly captivated, not just by his cloak, but by his very essence. he was, in a word, beautiful.

"i'm- i'm sorry-" you stutter, the sentence not yet formed in your brain. is this really how your first encounter with him will go?

"you absolute fools." he turns around, facing the two boys.

wayne and justin are now the ones stumbling back, audibly gulping. "we're sorry, seonghwa."

"all that over house points?" seonghwa scoffs in disbelief, "well, guess what? you just cost your own house fifty points."

the entire great hall gasps, not used to seeing the prefect this enraged and stern. he avoids public confrontations, curious eyes and gossipy mouths, always opting to pull the troublemakers aside to scold them. he also mostly deducts five points, ten at most. but fifty?

"show is over. go to your classes." he orders to the crowd, and they waste no time in continuing their journey to their classrooms.

overwhelmed by the unfolding situation, you find yourself unable to move. your gaze fixes on seonghwa's polished black shoes, unsure of your next action or words. your first encounter with him wasn't supposed to unfold this way. you intended to sweep him off his feet, exuding confidence and the like. embarrassing yourself and struggling to hold back tears while avoiding his gaze was never in the plan.

"hey, honeydukes. are you alright?"

"i'm fi- honeydukes?" you look at him, brows furrowed. "you know about that nickname?"

he tilts his head, chuckling. "i gave you that nickname."

"you... you gave me that nickname?! do you have any idea how freaking annoying it is..."

"okay, calm down now."

"...to be called that all day every day? even when i've stopped visiting that bloody shop..."

"listen to me."

"...it's haunting me! how dare you?!"

your protest is silenced as he steps closer, cradling your jaw in the palm of his hand to lift your face towards his. the way his dark eyes look down on you makes you feel small and fragile, only being safe because he's holding you. you swallow hard, lips pressed tightly together, not yet trusting yourself to speak.

"i gave you that nickname when i first saw you. in hogsmeade, at honeydukes. i had never seen anyone eat cotton candy so cutely, and nobody would tell me your name until recently i heard it myself. so you became honeydukes. not my fault the rest heard it from me and decided to make their own version of it."

"still..." you are stubborn, not willing to let go so easily.

"tell you what..." he reaches into his pocket, taking out something shiny. you notice it is one of those wrapped chocolate balls, and coincidentally your favorite flavour. "accept this as an apology, and stop sneaking around the library at night. you're going to cost your house more points. and us prefects our sanity."

"a candy? you're bribing me?" you scoff.

he chuckles, then puts one end of the wrapper between his pearly white teeth, while his other hand still holds your jaw. he tugs at the opposite end of the wrapper, loosening it and making the treat more accessible. letting the wrapper drop to the ground, the shiny chocolate appears all the more enticing between his slender fingers.

"open up for me."

lips slowly peeling open, you allow his slender fingers to slip past them and place the treat on your tongue.

"that's a good girl." he purrs, eyes focused on the way your tongue swirls around the chocolate and his fingers. he takes them out, and catching you by surprise, puts them inside his mouth. "well, then. you better get to class."

you nod, gulping and hugging your books to your chest. not knowing what to say to that, or what to say at all, you turn around, ready to get to your next class. but he stops you once again, playfulness evident in his voice.

"and i mean it. stop sneaking around the castle at night. not that i hate other forms of punishment, i don't think it's something you'd enjoy. besides, you need sleep, especially with the upcoming exams."

"okay."

"what? didn't quite catch that."

"yes, sir!" you yell, annoyed and already running up the stairs, almost tripping on your cloak.

"atta girl." seonghwa smiles proudly, walking in the direction of his next class.

you used to love hogsmeade. then you hated it. now, you love it again. winter has wrapped the village in a festive mood, with christmas just around the corner. streets are dripping with decorations, lights and christmas trees. enchanted instruments are singing songs on the street, people are rushing to buy presents already, and hermione and ron are bickering as always. harry walks by your side, mesmerized by the amount of lights decorating the balconies of the villagers.

"we always go get stupid butterbeers. let's try something else for once!" the girl complains, growing sick of the habit the four of you have formed when arriving at hogsmeade.

"yes, but... it's butterbeer. what else is there to try?" the ginger says, opting for the simple routine.

"merlin, i don't know! just- ugh. what do you say, honeydukes?"

ever since you told them about the incident at the great hall, they've called you nothing but that. you don't hate it anymore. if anything, it reminds you of the slytherin prefect every time you are called. and you don't hate that either.

"i think..." just as you are about to agree with hermione, your eyes notice a group of slytherins entering the three broomsticks. thus, "...ron is right. i mean, butterbeer is butterbeer."

"so bland. fine, let's go."

upon entering, you realize that you have to fight your way to the seats. it is crowded, as though all of hogwarts has chosen the same time and place for drinks. ron is stubborn, tugging hermione, who tugs you, who tugs harry. the wizard chain somehow makes it through the singing and dancing crowd, reaching the end of the tavern and big table where you usually sit. only to find the place occupied.

"hey, that's our seats!" ron complains, pointing at the slytherin boys.

"oh, no. how dare they take our unassigned assigned seats?" the girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"go on, honeydukes. say something."

you look at the boy who remained silent until now, confused. "me? why me?"

"well, it's your little boyfriend sitting there. maybe he'll listen to you."

"harry-!" before you can protest, you are nudged in front of the table, prompting all the boys at the table to halt their conversation and turn their heads to look at you. seonghwa raises an eyebrow, amused.

"what is it, half blood?" draco snickers, glancing over at seonghwa for approval. but when seonghwa doesn't acknowledge him, he settles down, hiding behind his half full glass of butterbeer.

"uh, my friends and i... we were just wondering..." you look behind at the three of them, who stand waiting politely as if you were their mother arranging a play date. "...if you could scoot over and let us have one side of the table? since it is a sharing table... and there's only four of us... and four of you. or not. i mean, if you want to. if you don't, that's fine. i'm not ordering you, i'm just... actually, we don't need it. sorry for bothering you. we'll leave now."

you turn around, cheeks and tips of ears ablaze with embarrassment. the trio looks at you with mouths open wide, wondering just what the hell happened to you.

"what the bloody hell was that?" ron says, eyebrows furrowed.

"i-"

"honeydukes?"

your body responds to his voice immediately, turning around and eyes locking into his. he smiles at you, then waves towards the seats that are now empty.

"ah, sweet!" harry cheers, and the two boys throw their belongings on the chairs and rush to the bar to order.

hermione takes a seat first, choosing a spot as far from them as possible. this leaves you with only one option: the chair next to blaise zabini, the boy who, after Seonghwa and Draco, had the most admirers. he doesn't acknowledge you, nor does anyone else, until you start gossiping with hermione and she abruptly stops mid-sentence.

"he's looking at you."

"what? who is?" your head starts to turn itself before thinking, but hermione is quick to slap your arm. "ow!"

"don't look! that prefect, seonghwa. he's looking at you so intensely. it's scary."

"like, scary scary or hot kinda scary?"

"well, i-" she stutters, not yet used to being this open with anyone yet. "the latter."

the boys arrive, ron holding the drinks and harry holding bowls of snacks. they almost throw them on the table, and ron doesn't even wait to sit before taking a big sip of his drink. harry digs into his loaded chips, not intending on offering anyone a bite or two.

the conversation at the other end of the table ceases, causing ron to set his glass down and harry to stop trying to fit the entire bowl into his cheeks. you look at both ends, the situation looking funny, especially with hermione looking embarrassed next to you. the slytherin boys exude sophistication, taking delicate sips of their drinks, sharing a bowl of spicy chili treats, conversing in hushed tones, and maintaining an overall neat and respectful demeanor. the gryffindor boys are a complete contrast; ron with his butterbeer moustache, harry with sauce smeared on his cheek, both flushed and almost reeking of sweat already.

"wufnt sum?" harry says with his mouth full, nudging his half empty bowl towards the other group.

they all look at the prefect, as if he decides whether they can have some or not. "no, thank you, potter. you seem to be enjoying it too much for me to take it away from you. i'd feel bad."

the groups snickers, and something twitches inside of you. seeing the prefect's cocky and arrogant smile, your interest in him falters. he's no longer looking at you, not even sparing you glances. entertaining his group and bullying the gryffindor boys seemed to be way more interesting. and you've had enough of it.

"so... nice moustache weasley."

"right, we get it." you almost yell, causing them to stop and turn their heads at you. "you're all so smart, and perfect, and purebloods, and we are just laughing stock. i don't need to listen to this, and neither do they."

"oh, feisty." draco comments, earning a glare from seonghwa.

"right, honeydukes. i apologize for my behaviour." the dark haired slytherin smiles at you, but your face stays the same.

"it's not me you should be apologizing to."

"are you dense? how dare you talk to him like that?" the young boy doesn't give up, wanting to fight you no matter what.

"malfoy, sit back." seonghwa says, putting a hand on draco's chest. "potter, weasley. i apologize for my comments."

"'s alright."

"yeah, no worries." they mumble, gazes locked on the table.

awkward silence swallows your corner of the tavern, with the people only staring at the middle of the table and only breathing. seonghwa then slides the untouched bowl of chili treats in the middle, causing the group to look at him.

"how about a game? you know, that muggle one, never have i ever? for each thing that you did, you need to eat a handful of these. you in, gryffindor?"

eager to prove themselves, they straighten their clothes and backs, and focus. hermione sits back, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. ron nudges her with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes and joins in.

"hufflepuff?" the dark eyed boy tilts his head.

"sure, whatever."

"alright, then. game on."

it starts with innocent questions, such as cheating on exams and gossips. then, it progressively gets more serious and more...

"never have i ever made out with someone in the astronomy tower?"

sexual.

you are not shocked to see that blaise and seonghwa are taking a handful of the spicy treats, but your jaw drops when ron and hermione do the same, exchanging a single glance before blushing and shoving the handful in their mouths. harry shares his surprise with you, jaw equally hanging.

"well, well. little miss granger." seonghwa teases. "good job, ron boy."

"never have i ever... done more than dry humping in an empty owlery?" harry surprises the table with his question.

"what?! you've done that?!" hermione is almost in his face, surprised how she didn't know this about her best friend.

"i might've..." the chosen one smiles, wasting no time in burning his tongue with the treats once again.

your side of the table seems to retreat after that question, the slytherin boys asking about things you didn't ever think of. things that would have dubmbledore kick you out of the school, through the very same astronomy tower everyone seems to mention. the game eventually grows into a conversation, discussing who their favorite partner was, what their most risky situation was, and who they have an eye on recently.

"what about you, honeydukes?" blaise asks, using seonghwa's nickname for you. it just doesn't hit the same.

"what about me?"

"nothing to share? no risky business, no partners, no bad sexual experiences? i mean, have you had any experience at all?"

"of course i have. i'm not a virgin, if that's what you're implying. i've had more bad ones than good ones. having me jerk someone off under the desk while learning about amortentia wasn't exactly my cup of tea."

"oh, you poor thing." draco coos, mockingly.

they all eventually let go, and when you realize that seonghwa hasn't made a comment about you in a while, you look at him. he is already observing you, his expression unreadable. his eyes roam your face, then your hair, and finally your clothes. you feel small under his intense gaze, and you find yourself squirming on the wooden chair. when his eyes catch yours, he blinks, then looks away.

after a morning of intense studying, practicing flying, and rushing to hogsmeade for potions supplies for the exam tomorrow, you end up sleeping the entire afternoon. when you wake up, it is dark. you hate wasting days, especially because winter ones are so short. you haven't done anything fun for yourself these few weeks, only studying and avoiding the slytherin prefect.

he might've noticed, or perhaps not. you've noticed a few glances here and there, but the hogsmeade encounter made your feelings for him fade. it wasn't a major crush after all, just simple admiration. maybe liking. regardless, he doesn't get in your way. meaning, it might be safe to have one of those late night adventures through the castle. your disillusionment charm has improved, and you'll finally put it to good use.

wearing nothing but your yellow sleeping attire, you slip out of the dormitory and head to the library. the ghosts don't bother you, even if you didn't cast the charm yet. they must've found another victim, especially peeves. that bastard.

no prefect in sight either, which makes you wonder if you're really being that subtle and successful in your late night escapade. perhaps they're toying with you, letting you reach the doors of the library just to stop you and punish you.

yet, it doesn't happen. not when you reach the door, not when you slip past them, and not when you reach the restricted section.

"lumos." you chant, then put the handle of the wand between your teeth so you can see the shelves better.

how sad, you think, sneaking out at night only to come to a library.

mid book browsing, you hear footsteps. hurriedly twirling your wand around yourself, you cast the charm, and crouch.

"nox," you whisper, the wand no longer emitting light from its tip.

the footsteps get closer, with faint whistling being heard. whoever it is, they're either completely oblivious, or they're just keeping you at the edge before revealing themselves.

"little pig, little pig..." the voice sings, and you gasp.

the slytherin prince himself roams the library's forbidden section, each footstep sounding closer to you. you get on your hands and knees, crawling among the shelves in search for a way out. but from this perspective, everything looks different. after all, this isn't your usual view.

"let," step, "me," step, "in."

a hand grabs your hair from behind, pulling your head back just enough to make you yelp. the disillusionment charm wears off, and you groan, defeated.

"well, well. if it isn't the innocent little hufflepuff. no wonder i've been craving sweet since i entered the library."

"will you let go of me?"

"oh, sure thing." he softens his grip, giving you just a taste of freedom before yanking your head again, "what's the magic word? you know, that muggle one?"

"please, please!" you yelp, hands wrapping around his wrist in hopes of convincing him to let go.

he does, then steps back to give you space so you can get up. fixing your sleepwear, you fail to see his amused grin as he stares at you. when you finally look up at him, he has his usual prefect serious face on.

"now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"sorry, it won't happen again." you should tattoo that on yourself next time you're in muggle world, it comes like a good morning to you. "i'll see myself out."

"oh, no, no." the man stops you, grabbing your elbow. "you don't get away with a sorry. not anymore. remember what i said last time?"

"uh... something about different forms of punishment?" you remember.

"that's right. good girl." his voice seems to drop a few octaves, causing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. "now, how many?"

"what?"

"how many?"

"how many what?"

"spanks, sweetheart."

"you're-" you choke on your spit, "you're going to spank me?"

"oh, would you rather lose points? again?" he tilts his head, fake worry painted on his features.

"well, no, but-"

"deducting points doesn't seem to work on you anyways. i'll have to try a different approach. usually works." he steps towards you, making you step back.

"usually? you uh... you spank other people?" you dare ask.

"why?" he continues his slow steps.

"just asking."

"jealous?"

"why would i be?"

"i don't know." he shrugs, then looks around checking for intruders. "a little bird told me you have a crush on me."

your back hits the shelves, and you gasp. he stops in front of you, still maintaining a small distance. you stutter, not knowing what to say. do you have a crush on him?

"i certainly don't."

"oh." he furrows his eyebrows, "you sure?"

"yes." your voice comes out raspy, and you clear your throat. "yes, absolutely."

"honeydukes?"

"yes?"

"are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"

"i don't have a crush on you, seonghwa." you try to sound as convincing as possible.

"good. then, this interaction won't have any side effects besides teaching you a lesson. now, how many?"

you want to say a small number, like two or three. but if it happens to feel good, you won't have the guts to ask for more. oh how foolish, how can spanking be good?

"tick-tock, hufflepuff. if you don't decide, i will for you. and trust me, you do not want that."

he isn't touching you, hell, he isn't even looking at you. yet he has power over you like nobody ever had before, making you stand still against the bookshelves and wait for his instructions.

"ten," you simply say.

"ten? not one, two?" seonghwa is surprised with your answer, figuring you'd choose a smaller number.

"i didn't think you'd accept one or two. or would you?"

"smart girl. no, i wouldn't. now, what was your favorite subject again? charms, herbology?"

"dark arts," you reply, catching him off guard once again. of course he didn't see it coming. you're sneaking out to go to a library, you're a hufflepuff for merlin's sake, and you stand here in front of him, looking up at him with those wide innocent eyes of yours. who would guess dark arts?

"well, then," he swirls his black wand around both of you, turning you invisible once again, "lead the way, honeydukes."

and you do, having him follow you all the way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. you'd be lying if you said nervous sweat hasn't washed you over three times by the time you reach it. when the door closes, it's like time stops. this is it.

"won't umbridge hear? what if she's still in her office?" you whisper.

"muffliato." he simply casts, sparks flying between the desks, up the staircase at the end of the classroom, and through the doors of umbridge's office. "go on."

you keep walking, all the way to her desk. seonghwa plunges on the comfy professor's chair, then motioned for you to step closer. you barely step close to him, and he pushes you over his lap, causing you to squeak unintentionally. you hold onto his thigh, the position not the most comfortable one.

"count." the slytherin prefect demands.

his big hand lands on your bottom, making you jolt. "one."

his other hand rests on the small of your back, keeping you still so you stop squirming. only three more spanks later, you're already shuffling uncomfortably.

"two, three, four," you say, voice slowly cracking.

"but i'm barely halfway there yet, my hufflepuff princess. don't break on me just yet." he coos, voice soft and comforting, a great contrast to his actions.

you sniff, hand hurriedly wiping a tear that threatened to escape. seonghwa doesn't halt, even if he saw that. instead, he spanks you harder and harder, sparing no inch of your skin of the burning sensation.

"five, six, seven." you shudder, bracing yourself for more. only three more.

"almost there, sweetheart. you're doing so good for me." his other hand caresses your hair, removing it from your face and letting it fall aside. seeing you all teared up and flushed, something new sparks inside of him. "so pretty."

he can't help himself, his hand abusing your sore bottom, exceeding the amount that you both agreed on. you keep counting, not asking him to stop. he lands a final one, deciding it is enough once you let out the first cry.

"t-twenty," you sob, hiding your face in his black slacks.

when his hand touches your bottom again, you expect it to be another hit. instead, his hand caresses it, helping to soothe the pain. it lasts mere seconds, before you feel him raise the top of your pajama, then pull on the bottom. he exposes your red bottom to the cool classroom air, and you can't help but whine at the loss of contact.

"you did so good, my love." seonghwa coos, fingers running through your hair as he waits for you to collect yourself.

once you do, you realize that the burning sensation isn't only on your butt cheeks. you also feel it between your legs, briefs soaked with arousal.

"did you learn the lesson?" his hand finds its spot under your chin, raising your head so he can look at you properly.

"yes." you say, failing to maintain eye-contact with him. maybe it's the guilt, or maybe simply the way he looks at you. either way, you opt to stare at his perfectly ironed and buttoned up prefect attire.

"want me to make it feel better?"

you shrug, not quite sure what you wanted anyway. his hand slips from under your chin to your neck, catching you off guard, his fingers squeezing the sides of it. he presses lightly into your skin, the other hand adjusting your bottom so that it is higher up and your core easily accessible. a moan escapes your lips, feeling his digits find your clit so easily.

"oh, you poor thing. you're absolutely soaked. is that why you're crying? not from the pain, but from lack of attention?"

when you don't reply, he only chuckles, pressing into your neck more.

"i'll take good care of you, honeydukes."

he moves your briefs aside, digits circling your clit softly, before slipping into your aching hole. you bite into the fabric of his pants, but he stops you, instead offering his finger to bite on. he still holds onto your neck with his thumb and the rest of the fingers, his index finger popped into your mouth to muffle any noise you have to offer him.

hearing your own hole squelch as his fingers pump in and out of you makes a new rush of arousal wash over your folds. his fingers are long, very long. he curves them, spreads them, then removes them from your hole, only to spread your slick all over your clit and abuse it.

you're a drooling mess on his lap, eyes turning back at the pure pleasure he is gracing you with. your hips hopelessly push back, looking for anything to fill you up. he notices, removing his hand from your core, before standing you up and pushing you to sit on the desk. with a single motion, he shreds your briefs to bits, stuffing them into his pocket and attaching his mouth to your aching core.

you fall back on the desk, head hanging from it and overlooking the empty classroom. your brain creates various images for you as seonghwa's hot tongue swipes across your folds, imagining the classroom full of students as seonghwa feasts on you in front of them. were you weird for that?

"not at all, princess."

"stop reading my mind, prefect." you tug on his hair, a form of punishment for intruding your thoughts.

"can't help it, not when you're dripping all over my face."

his fingers find their way into your clenching hole again, curling upwards and finding a spot nobody ever had before. a moan escapes you, echoing through the classroom, and your other hand pushes seonghwa's head further into your cunt.

he chuckles against you, his own hands holding your thighs so you don't suffocate him. you feel yourself inching closer, hips desperately grinding on his mouth and nose, eager to feel a proper orgasm. he pulls away once again, making you whine and groan.

"my, i've spoiled you." he raises an eyebrow, amused at the glares you're sending him. he stands up, working on his zipper. he doesn't take his pants off, deciding to keep his prefect uniform on. it only makes the situation hotter, your brain finally realizing just what you're doing.

you're messing with a prefect, in the middle of the night, in a classroom, right under a professor's nose.

"kiss me." you ask, voice small. red paints your cheeks; you wanted to sound more confident than that.

"you want to taste yourself on my tongue, princess?"

"yes, please."

"since you asked so nicely."

he helps you stand again, hands firm on your waist, and lips finally attached to yours. your arms wrap around his neck, hungrily bringing his body closer to yours. you indeed taste yourself on his tongue, seonghwa not wasting a second in pushing through your soft lips in search for your hot muscle. the sound of kissing echoes in the classroom, the setting hotter than your wildest dreams. seonghwa is a dreamy kisser, making you feel wanted, hot and appreciated at the same time. his lips never leave yours, not even when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull at it with ecstasy. he only moans softly into your mouth, giving you a wave of confidence.

your hand slides down his chest, to the button of his pants, and finally to the zipper. you reach into it, pulling his hard cock out, before giving it a few slow pumps. he sighs into your lips, pulling away for a few moments. his forehead rests against yours, his body falling in control of your one hand. your thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the slick and spreading it over him. his hips rock with your hand, whines and moans deliciously filling your ears. it feels powerful to have him tremble in your hands, desperate and yearning for your touch and attention. this must be what he feels on a daily basis. and it must feel fucking amazing.

"you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he teases, and you tease back by squeezing his cock. he gasps, but chuckles regardless. "you're just a little brat, waiting to be stuffed like a bad girl. i know it."

with a swift motion, seonghwa turns you around, your still clothed tits pressing against the hard wooden desk and head pushed on the side. he slides into you without warning or teasing, so easily and perfectly. he wastes no time in holding your hips still, smashing his own into you and burying his cock deep in your hole. your walls swallow each inch he offers you, having both of you moan and groan at the pleasure.

"fuck-" he curses, eyes planted on the place where the two of you connect. "fuck, honeydukes- you're going to be the death of me."

"do you- ah!" he snaps his hips into yours once again, each thrust more forceful than the other, "do you do this with others sneaking out at night?"

"i knew you were jealous. so you do have a little crush on me?" he chuckles breathlessly.

"maybe. and maybe." you groan, hands gripping the edges of the desk.

"no, baby. i don't. you're the only one whose cunt i'm going to fill up, again and again. until you've learned your lesson properly."

it is your turn to chuckle now. "if this is your form of punishment, i might start sneaking around while you're on duty more often."

"oh, my hufflepuff princess. if you want me, you can have me any time you want. all day, every day. all you have to do is ask."

the conversation stops, as do his hips, when the doors on top of the stairs open.

"who's there?"

you try looking back at seonghwa, eyes full of fear. his cock twitches in your hole, the riskiness of the situation arousing to him.

"hush, love." he whispers, hand pushing your head down against the cold wood again.

his hips start moving gently, slowly stretching your hole again. you're in shock, not believing that he'd actually continue as the professor walks down the stairs in her own sleeping attire. her eyes skim over the room, trying to find anything unusual. but the silencing spell seems to be working, just like the disillusionment one, making umbridge unaware of your presence. a very... lewd presence.

"merlin, i can't take it anymore. i'm sorry, love."

not giving you a chance to ask why he's apologizing, you soon learn as his hand pulls your hair back and his other one grips your bruised bottom. his hips snap into yours with speed and accuracy, hitting the right spots and bringing you closer to release.

"seonghwa-" you moan.

"yes, love?"

"i want-" you moan again, then beg, "i want to see you, touch you."

he pulls away, helping your limp body in a different position. the professor is ignored, even when she comes dangerously close to the desk. it sends a new wave of arousal to your core, just in time for seonghwa to slide into you again.

"look at that," he sighs, looking at your belly.

you follow his gaze, seeing the outline of his cock on it. your hands bring his head closer so you can kiss him, with equal hunger as before. he continues pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm.

"right, there better not be anyone. i'm not in the mood for any tricks!" umbridge threatens, causing both of you to chuckle into each others mouths.

"this is kind of hot," you admit.

"as much as it is, i want her to go away as soon as possible. i just can't cum when i see her face."

you laugh, glancing at the professor one more time. as if she heard, she listens, angrily stomping upstairs and slamming the door shut.

"uh, speaking of temperatures, i know this is crazy, but i am feeling a bit chilly." you admit, the winter air entering the classroom and hitting your naked skin. after all, you were only in your thin sleepwear, having heavy covers on your bed that kept you warm. seonghwa wastes no time in taking off his prefect cloak, helping you put it on and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you look beautiful in green, my pretty hufflepuff."

blush paints your cheeks, his scent enveloping you and sending a fresh batch of butterflies to your stomach. you never noticed it before, but he smells of forest moss and after rain stone, with a hint of potions ingredients. it is intoxicating, entering your organism and threatening to never leave.

"oh, merlin," seonghwa throws his head back, lost in pure pleasure as your hole swallows him, the outline of his cock on your belly adding to it all and helping him get closer to his goal. "fuck- fuck-"

he's absolutely dashing, a thin layer of sweat shining on his face and making his dark locks stick to his forehead. his lips are plump from you biting and sucking on them, slightly parted and letting out little gasps and moans. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his uniform, not having a problem with the cold. you're a moaning mess, just like him, completely letting go of every thought you had until now, simply giving yourself to him and admiring him.

you feel full of him, and just when you thought you couldn't feel fuller, seonghwa hisses, spilling his load in you and creating more squelching sounds as he rides out his orgasm, pushing in and out of you sloppily.

it doesn't take long for you to reach your own, the knot in your stomach exploding as his tip slams mercilessly into your soft spot, making you grip his arms, shoulders, hair, anything you could reach. he works you through your high, not missing a single face or sound you make.

you're exhausted, struggling to catch your breath. the recovery lasts longer than usual, seonghwa having wrecked you inside out. his hands gently remove your hair from your face so he can take a good look at you.

"you're good, love. breathe." he coos, caressing your cheek and blowing into your face to cool you off.

"thank you," you blurt out.

"what for?" the slytherin prefect laughs at your innocence.

"i don't know. this, i guess. i've never enjoyed sex, always saw it as a chore. and i never felt desired, just objectified."

"well," the dark haired slytherin pecks your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, "you don't have to worry about that anymore. i've never desired anyone the way i desire you, and i think i just proved it to you how much. you don't have to fear those things with me anymore."

"park seonghwa, are you subtly asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shyly ask, knowing that you might be wrong and embarrass yourself in front of him. to your relief, he pecks your lips once again.

"perhaps. only if you want to. if not, then i'm not asking."

"perhaps i want to."

"perhaps that makes me happy."

"you're crazy." you laugh, and he joins.

seonghwa does one more thing no other partner has ever done for you; he helps you get cleaned, then dressed, and walks you to the doors of your common room.

"if you do decide to sneak off again, please do let me know. wouldn't want other prefects to find you and steal your heart."

you nod, and with a longer kiss, finally part ways with him. he waits until you finish your usual rhythmic tapping on the barrels, until the doors open, and finally, until you disappear into your common room and back to the dormitory.

you notice the sun already rising, and hurry to jump back in bed.

"excuse me? is that a slytherin cloak on you?"

you freeze in your tracks, the cloak ready to slide off you and hide under your pillow. the girl on the bed to your left doesn't give up, now sitting up and staring at you wide eyed.

"and a prefect one too?!" the voice on the right joins, waking up the rest of the room and bringing attention to you.

fuck.

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