#to do that I need to be able to trust you again

[ncteez]

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

Haechan, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own.  You.  Or the one where Haechan was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― lee haechan  x afab milf!reader  

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

CONTENT―  age gap: reader is 31  and haechan is 24, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy haechan (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and haechan really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! haechan just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet 

!WARNINGS! ―  age gap, haechan is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits 

NOTE ― this was written for jay from enhypen over on my other blog, but i am gifting it to you guys here as well! I WROTE THEM BOTH!!!! NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― thick big dick haechan, small instant dubious consent, tit obsessed haechan, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish,pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s haechan doing stuff to you,  this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and haechan fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of highschool. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 

 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a downpayment on her own first house. 

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things. 

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Haechan, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Haechan, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Haechan, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Haechan actually is. 

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 

Haechan. 

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Lee Donghyuck.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Donghyuck?” 

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Haechan more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 

Haechan doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boytoys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Haechan has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 

Until you. 

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only twelve back then, but he’s a man now. 

Twenty four and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Haechan is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom. 

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft stories when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. Even at twelve, he was a scaredy cat.

 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single? 

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 

The point is– Haechan wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 

“Well, actually,” Haechan offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Donghyuck.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Haechan tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 

 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Haechan is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Haechan, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Donghyuck and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Haechan sees it. 

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Haechan is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 

You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Haechan ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Donghyuck. And for the fence too.” 

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?”��

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Haechan is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 

Fuck, if only you knew. 

And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Haechan isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Haechan than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called,  happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Haechan shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, lip gloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 

“It’s no problem.” Haechan relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Haechan hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Haechan little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 

He’s truly pathetic for you. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-scream of “Shit, fuck–”

Haechan looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 

You’ve been with a man. 

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 

Haechan fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Haechan tries to ask nonchalantly. 

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 

Haechan watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Haechan says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his facade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Donghyuck–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 

“Only because you make it weird.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline.”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Donghyuck. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 

Haechan sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Donghyu–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Haechan is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Donghyuck. You can’t. 

You really, really, can’t. 

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 

You’re shocked. 

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Haechan shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 

“Donghyuck, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 

And truthfully, Haechan has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 

“God, Haechan.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Donghyuck at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Haechan.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right. 

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Haechan has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Haechan smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Donghyuck.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Donghyuck, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Donghyuck.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 

Why not?

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was twelve years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Donghyuck.” You finally corrected her again. 

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Haechan back. 

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, instead he crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 

You hold your breath when she runs to Haechan, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Haechan. In fact, the only time she ever does is when she had a bad day at daycare or had a tummy ache. 

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Haechan like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Haechan did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Haechan does a better job at it than you do. 

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Haechan’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 

You do see it. 

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Haechan’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Haechan knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Haechan, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Haechan as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Haechan does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Haechan has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Haechan has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance? 

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 

Some nights, Haechan does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 

“Dad said I can stay up late!” 

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your cardigan, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Haechan, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Haechan has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Haechan gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 

Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Haechan reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Haechan is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Donghyuck.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Haechan gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Haechan knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 

Right now will be the first time Haechan enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

 It’s all Haechan. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Haechan swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“D–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate. 

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 

“Donghyuck–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Haechan. He wants to take care of you? 

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need.You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Haechan asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 

“Jesus, Haechan–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Haechan thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

 Finally. 

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh. 

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 

“Say something.” Haechan whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 

But you’re not. 

You do like it raw.

“Haechan–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 

You repeatedly shake your head. 

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything. 

And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 

Haechan though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 

 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Haechan than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, dark, needy. 

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 

Haechan doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 

“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all too happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 

“Mama–” Haechan soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 

“Yes, daddy–” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 

“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 

Haechan is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Haechan never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Haechan mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Haechan’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 

Haechan glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 

That’s fair. 

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.” 

You really, really, want to believe him.

So, you do. 

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Being Ellies little (fuck)pet🫠🤤

-🩷

18+ content. (rough sex + being used + possessive ellie) this is my first time writing something specifically like this...so...umm i hope it’s not weird hi anon

"Fuck, your mouth is so warm," she breathes, though it's not the steady exhale you're used to. This is how you like it, being on your knees for the woman who owns you in every way, tongue offered up like a little present for her to grind her face on.

Soft whines slip past your glistening lips, muffling by her pussy being relentlessly rubbed all over your mouth, sometimes against your nose. Ellie likes it rough, so the fingers tugging your hair back and forth as she pleases are only necessary.

You shouldn't like this as much as you do. Something in you must be deeply perverted to enjoy being used and treated like some pet for Ellie to use to get off, but you don't even care anymore. Those conflicted feelings can wait. For now, you'll make Ellie happy. You'll please her so well that she will only want to fuck you in return.

You'd like to be able to glance up and appreciate the view of Ellie losing herself on your tongue, but you can hardly see how her eyes are narrowed, trying to concentrate on holding out and not just cumming all over your mouth too early. She wants to hold out and draw it out, but the her tell is the furrow of her brows, the thin line her lips are set in to keep from biting her lower one raw.

Before your face can be coated with the release you wish to give her, Ellie pulls your mouth of her, eliciting a frustrated whine from you. She doesn't say another word to explain, and she doesn't need to. She can do whatever she wants with you, and she knows you won't utter a single word of protest. She knows how you like it, and she is aware of what you don't want from her. Even throughout the rough treatment, there's a trust you have in each other that goes unspoken.

Ellie situates you onto the bed, forces your legs open and just stares for a minute. She takes in the view of your pussy, her pussy. The soft, glistening folds that belong just to her. Your swollen clit that's peeking out from its hood, and she can already imagine how it's going to feel to sink her own pussy down onto yours and feel it beat just for her. She owns this pussy.

With much impatience, Ellie hitches a leg over one of yours to comfortably slot her pussy onto yours. Not much for teasing is Ellie, far too eager to use you to ever say no. You don't beg for her to fuck you, you beg for her to use you. To ruin you, make you cum in the most filthy ways possible whenever it so pleases her, and then put you back together again when you're falling apart.

"Who owns you, bun?" Her wet cunt makes a soft squelching sound every time it rubs raw against yours, and even in the context, you can't help but feel the intimacy behind it. Each swipe of her clit against yours is like a kiss.

"You do, fuck...you do, Ellie," you whine and let her grab your jaw, pulling your mouth open to shove her tongue into your mouth. Not a kiss, just purely fucking past your pretty lips with her warm tongue, swirling around yours in a way that reminds you of how she eats you out.

Ellie was close earlier, so now she just fucks her pussy relentlessly against yours. The friction is almost unbearable, your clit having to adjust to the lack of build-up, but it doesn't even take much before Ellie is cumming all over your pussy before you can even get close to your peak. Her mouth leaves yours to bury itself into the crook of your neck, groaning so blissfully while grinding sloppily on you, riding out the high. You want to complain when she pulls away, tell her that she is being too selfish for you. You don't care to, though. Not when her mouth trails down your body, tongue seeking out your clit to thank you for being so patient.

[izvmimi]

cw: smut. dry humping under the influence. no penetration. semi-public sex-ish.

“Hey.”

Unsure of when exactly the two of you dozed off, you look over to Luffy, raising your head off of his chest, and gently shake his shoulder as he lays fast asleep, partially slumped against the trunk of a tree, one big enough to cast shade over both of you and your midday picnic. The sun still remains high in the sky, you glean through the leaves, so you cannot have drifted off for that long, but the fatigue on you is not exactly lifting in the normal way it does when you’re waking up from an impromptu nap, and you’re starting to get concerned.

“Luffy!”

Luffy rises not when you pat him on the face but rather at the sound of his name, eyes shooting wide open initially until he takes in your expression fully - frantic but unharmed - and his eyes go sleepy again.

“What?”

“Where exactly did you get those fruits?” You don’t know why you’re whispering or hissing in his ear, it’s not like there’s anyone around this clearing to see you except for the birds overhead and the wildlife that Luffy is a little too good at intimidating with a mere smile. You should have known better than to not question whatever Luffy presents to you without a second look, but you’ve learned to trust your captain and lover a little too implicitly, and now potentially you might be paying the price.

“Why, does your tummy hurt?” he asks with only a slight hint of alarm and more inquiry, still half-lidded and sleepy, the drawl of sleep on his tongue. He has yet to sit up completely, arms still raised and head rested on his palms. You on the other hand, are becoming somewhat diaphoretic - perhaps the hot sun was is making its way to you despite the cool shade generated by the swaying leaves, but more likely the fact that there’s a tingle through your body that’s beginning to spread from the tips of your toes and fingertips to your center and further just south of it which portends another problem entirely. 

“No, I just…”

You pause abruptly, finding yourself drawing in a breath all of a sudden and sighing out. Luffy’s eyes widen again and he finally does sit up, but you start to breathe out slowly, your eyes closing shut languidly as you lean forward over him, disoriented.

“Is everything okay?”

Barely able to hold your head up anymore, you finally tip forward onto his body, a lull suddenly washing over you and swaddling you tightly, and he lets you fall into him, pulling you onto his lap.

“I… I don’t know if it is…” you whimper but another odd sound escapes your lips, interrupting your own sentence, soft and yet guttural in nature, and your head starts to spin.

“___, what’s going on with-”

Luffy stops mid-sentence too, suddenly holding his breath. Whatever is coming over you has started to come over him too, and against his body, you can feel the sudden deep rise and fall of his chest, deeper, slower, fuller, breaths, a soft heave that makes both of your eyes roll into the back of your heads and threaten to stay there. You fingers curl and draw downward gently along the fabric of his shirt, a sudden desperate need overtaking you.

You whisper each other’s names in unison.

“Are you-,” you start but Luffy’s hands are already moving roughly up your body, slipping below your shirt but staying rested under your ribcage to move you properly, until you’re straddling him perfectly, and you maneuver your own lower body, a longing stare fixated at his unfocused one so that your the clothed crotch of your pants is just flush to his. You can feel that he’s growing hard and sensitive and the tiniest rock of your hips against his has the two of you gasping.

You have each other’s full attention now - Luffy is seated, back pressed and supported against hard bark, the rest of him tense and hot all over.

“Do you think it’s poison?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer before he leans in and nips at your lower lip, then sticks his tongue down your throat, and you take it mercifully, letting the taste of his tongue laving over yours help wash away the fire building inside your belly.

We’ll know if we pass out and don’t wake up, is a thought that passes through your mind fleetingly, but your heart is racing rather than slowing down and your arms don’t lock up or lose strength as you wrap them around his neck. You muster a shake of your head, lacking confidence but filled with desire.

You continue to kiss, your lower halves grinding against each other rhythmically, the words between you as a minimum as you swallow each other whole, want and saliva dripping and flowing between the two of you fluidly for what feels like far too long.

“Move more, I wanna feel you,” he insists, impatient as he huffs into your ear, but he does it instead, tightening his grip around you as he bucks his hips upwards, rough and desperate against the snap of grind of your own hips. No longer kissing you on your mouth, he finds solace in letting his teeth graze against the soft of your shoulder and the length of your neck.

Bite, lick, suck, grind, sigh… the friction with which the two of you writhe against each other could start a forest fire, and with further, unrelenting need, Luffy lays you back against the picnic blanket and pins you beneath him.

He stops for a moment, appraising you again hungrily but curiously like a wolf sizing up a particularly delicious appearing rabbit. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Wasn’t trying to, I just…” he kisses you again, the bulge of his pants pressing hard against your restrictive, practically oppressive jeans.

“Clothes,” he pouts, but doesn’t stop rocking against your hips. Fingers curl around the hem of your jeans and you want him, you want more, you want skin to skin, but you think about the very full possibility that you may keep fucking like this until whatever’s come over you wears off and shake your head.

“Just like this… is fine.”

He may be groaning at your prudishness, cock straining against need and a wetter and wetter spot growing in your panties, but for now, mimicking sex, letting your bodies struggle a bit prior to release might be just enough.

And if the fruit’s effects don’t abate soon at all, you might just have to get the rest of whatever you started just now worked out through your bodies, somewhere else where the birds can’t tattletale and your bodies don’t imprint into the grass, and you can really let yourselves go.

[tillsfan]

a dive into Till’s feelings regarding Ivan and Mizi!

ivantill’s whole thing is being INSANELY complicated. i am a full on believer that they have mutual (unrealized) feelings, but i think the word “love” is definitely too vague to properly describe what they have. vivinos said a “deep LOVE/HATE” relationship for a reason.

i think till both genuinely feeling love for ivan yet hating him at the same time is absolutely reasonable. ivan has pushed and pulled till his whole life. till never felt secure near ivan, as much as he cares about him. but, ivan was always there. till felt comfort with ivan’s presence despite the lack of security he gave. till heavily valued ivan’s opinion, getting upset when ivan implied he didn’t see till as a friend. he trusted ivan enough to attempt to run away with him, and he potentially would have spent the rest of his life with ivan if they actually escaped.

i while love mutual love ivantill as much as the next guy, saying their feelings were 100% romantic is wrong. their emotions towards one another being so raw is something that defines them, which is why it’s difficult to put their mutual feelings into a specific box.

another thing we need to take into account is that neither of them know what love really is. they inhabit a world that isn’t MEANT for humans to love. they were never taught what love is and how to feel it. this is part of the reason they could never develop properly. they live in a world where the concept of romance and relationships aren’t properly established between humans.

but, i do believe like they could’ve had a chance under different circumstances. they were a slowburn that was never able to properly develop because, again, they lived in a world that didn’t allow them to, and they both ruined things for themselves. ivan had a huge tendency to self sabotage because of his severely low self esteem. he convinced himself that his feelings were shallow, and projected that onto till through his actions, confusing and distressing the latter. in addition, till was avoidant of the reality in front of him, ivan. due to till feeling such a lack of security with ivan, and never being able to understand ivan, he avoided intimacy with him altogether. till also just has a fear of intimacy in general. there was a significant amount of miscommunication between both parties.

in addition, saying that till didn’t love mizi is just. false. he dedicated all of his life to her, she was literally his muse. he loved her in his own way, even if he had to put her on a pedestal to do so. yes, he didn’t know anything about her as a person, but that doesn’t mean his feelings weren’t real. saying he never truly loved her undermines so much of his character.

mizi was till’s coping mechanism, yes. he adored her from a distance. he liked the idea of her and not her as an individual, but that doesn’t make his feelings any less real. he loved and cared for her. we saw how torn he was after mizi disappeared in round 5. he almost DIED because of his grief, before ivan ‘saved’ him. his feelings towards her were as authentic as they could be for someone who kept everyone at a distance.

while you could say till’s love for mizi isn’t inherently romantic, the same can be said for ivantill. nothing stated in the patreon confirmed what EXACTLY till felt towards mizi besides her being a fantastical figure to him. and his “love” towards ivan doesn’t HAVE to be romantic (even though i believe it is), it could very much be platonic. vivinos is purposefully vague with what kind of love each character feels because, as i said, feelings aren’t something that can be properly established in this universe.

hope u guys enjoyed my rant Yay 🌹

[emchante]

carlos with a breastfeeding kink is something i did not know i needed 😵‍💫 i just know it turns him on so much to be walking outside with you and suddenly your t-shirt starts getting wet…… just imagine panicking when you start lactating but its okay cause he’s there to guide you every step of the way…….. and if he can help with the excess milk then it’s all for you of course 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

WELCOME DEAR ANON.. WELCOME 🤭 trust me.. it’s not something i’ve ever written about before but it’s peaked my interest for a long time.. maybe now is time to indulge if i have some takers?? 👀

drabble below about this<3

god, he LOVES it when it happens in public, because he loves watching you all embarrassed that your body is doing things you didn’t expect it to do. carlos isn’t slick, either, often throws you a thin shirt to wear if you’re going out with him.. the thinner it is, the easier it is to leak.

and when it starts, your face is flushed and you instinctively raise your hands to your tits, covering it. carlos pulls your hands away though, tutting quietly in your ear. “cariño, you can’t do that in public. are you trying to draw the attention of other guys, huh?”

and of course not! you’d never do that when you know you’re destined to be with carlos!! so you get a little panicked and upset and oh.. carlos’ pants are tightening even more now. the sight of you so embarrassed, crying over something he is the cause of. it’s delicious, he craves it.

so he takes you into a shop, finding the bathrooms and pushing you inside as he locks the door. you don’t have time to question him, he’s already dragging your shirt over you, and you whine loudly from your sensitive nipples being teased with the t-shirt, and now being exposed to the cold air.

his hands are instantly on your fuller tits, squeezing softly as you whine in response. you tilt your head back, swallowing thickly as you revel in the feeling of carlos’ warm hands on your aching tits. you feel his thumbs run along your nipples, and your legs shake from the amount of pleasure it causes.

“i can help you princesa, you know that. you just need to ask me nicely.. so go on.”

and you’re begging. all you can say is please and carlos for the most part, sometimes able to slip in little i need you’s and that’s what wins him over. you need him, your mind is wired to think he is the only man who can help this mysterious issue, when deep down— it’s all his fault.

he coos at your pleas, beginning to squeeze your tits a little harder, thumbs teasing your nipples until they’re leaking even more, the milk falling from them as you’re left to whine and moan desperately for the release, hoping your full tits don’t start swelling again anytime soon.

but.. this is carlos. big, bad wolf carlos sainz. who’s to say he fully helps you out? because i think.. he leaves you around 3/4 if the way done. tells you that he’ll continue when you’re home, and that he’ll personally clean up all the milk when

[rowanisawriter]

2024 —my year in writing

last year, i wrote more than i ever have like literally in my whole life. this year i beat my record by about 200k words. i am writing A LOT and it’s all because of you.

yes, you, reading this now. anyone who kudos’d or commented or liked or reblogged anything i wrote, and followed me here and on ao3, and ranted in my dms and added me to servers. you, reading the weird things i write, the things i can only write and only i can write, seeing it and liking it and coming back again and again for more. thank you :)

so here’s my 2024 summary:

words written: 358,963

fics published: 74

my favorite fics:

real world (stardew valley) - a story about parenthood and roads not taken. genuinely the most important story to me, a diary entry as much as fanfic

pilgrimage (bg3) - a story about two people without a past as they work toward an even more uncertain future. i also have no past because of a strange upbringing so this story is kinda personal to me even though it’s about a cleric and a vampire

novel (hades) - a story about looking for adventure and finding love and family instead. i had so much fun writing this and posted weekly without pre-writing which was a challenge but it all worked out

patchwork self (datv) - a story about finding pieces of your brother in yourself. i wrote a lot of structured fic this year and i think this one flowed the easiest and was the most precise in how it delivered the message i was trying to get across, also it’s gen which i never write

my most written pairing: thanzag with 11 stories! not surprising since ive spent most of the year humiliating myself over thanatos

my most used tags: romance, introspection, character study

what i learned: i learned above all to trust myself! this year i wrote and completed three multi chapter fics that i didn’t prewrite and posted week by week until it was done. i’ve never been able to do that before but this year i just did it and didn’t overthink it, and i trusted that i could finish the stories and i did lol i can do anything i think i just have to trust myself a little

what i want to write next year: i would like very much to write something original, i have a loose idea so i just need to sit down and write so my goal is really small and simple, hopefully i don’t let myself down

[jules-ln]

I've seen a lot of people say that Viktor was controlled/corrupted by the hexcore and that's why he did everything

But personally I don't think that's the case

Like maybe... getting convinced by it, like the friend that just keeps telling you "yes! That's a great idea", but not controlled. Viktor always had it in him to do that, even in s1

Let me explain

Viktor is this character that I don't think I get completely, so I keep thinking about him. But I see people say "Oh, he's getting controlled because Viktor isn't like this at all" or "that's not Viktor" and the thing is; I don't agree

I think Herald Viktor is the real Viktor, same as s1 Viktor, it has always been him 100%

First we don't actually know how Viktor is with most people. Most of the time we see him, he's interacting with Jayce, and I think we can admit that Viktor has a lot of affection for Jayce

But we see him interacting with Mel briefly And I always found funny how he reacts when she brings up the hextech weapons, all dramatic and offended, he's like "Absolutely not!" But then he "calms down" as soon as he sees that Jayce isn't supporting him, he even looks a bit sad

I'm mentioning this because of how different he acts with Ambessa later when she asks him for an immortal army; he agrees with everything she wants, of course he won't give her that, he just wants to trick her into helping him, but it does makes me think that had he been alone when Mel started asking about building weapons, or had he known that Jayce wouldn't support him, he probably would've acted in a similar way to how he was with Ambessa, agreed with everything Mel wanted to get her off his business while he thought of another solution

And my point with this is, I think a lot of people assume that Viktor is an innocent little angel that is always honest and just wants to do good; but we only see him being honest with Jayce (most of the time); because he truly trusts him (tbf he's also honest with Singed, but I think he probably has affection for him as well); with the rest of the world Viktor is more than able to lie and manipulate to get what he wants; he isn't necessary a 100% good perfect person

Now, let's looks at how Viktor acts in the commune, because I think everyone can agree independently of whether you think the hexcore was controlling Viktor, that at this moment Viktor is still pretty much in control of himself and his actions

There's this comic called "a perfect life" about LoL Ekko, where Viktor is the antagonist; it has an oddly similar plot to the second season of arcane, (apparently this comic is from 2023 and by that time Arcane s2 was probably on the last part of production, so Idk why it's similar, but anyway!) In the comic, there's a rich dude offering free prosthetics (augmentations? Let's be honest they are futuristic prosthetics) to the people of Zaun, and everyone goes to get one part of their bodies replaced with technology willingly. Then later it's revealed that Viktor is the one actually doing all the surgeries lmao

But that got me thinking, Viktor in LoL doesn't need better morals, he needs better PR!

Because, people want Viktor's help, the only part they don't like it's the losing humanity and free will, which, understandable

But then, why does everyone still go to Viktor in the series? Because he isn't saying the whole truth

When Ambessa asks him if he could inhabit his followers, Viktor simply says they all share one mind and that it was part of his glorious evolution. He doesn't act surprised, It doesn't seem like he didn't know, he simply shrugs and is like "Yes, this was part of what I wanted"

But he never said that to his followers? When Vi and Jinx are talking to Viktor about healing Vander, Viktor never says "oh, btw, if I do this, your dad is going to lose his individuality and become part of my hive mind, hope that's ok :)". No, he simply says that he'll do what he can to heal him.

And again, you could argue that he lied because the hexcore was controlling him, but I still think that lying was 100% Viktor's choice and the only thing the hexcore could do or did was suggest him to do so

Why am I so sure Viktor wasn't controlled in this moment?

Remember when Viktor first meets Vander, Sky; who is very heavily implied to be the Hexcore, tells him to not save him because it would be too taxing to do so for Viktor. And he says no, that he wants to help Vander, because he thinks Vander it's worth it.

And I think that's all the power the Hexcore has over Viktor, suggest certain things, but at the end Viktor it's still on control; because if Viktor is the Hexcore's host, then it would be very detrimental for both of them if Viktor lost all his energy, both of them could die if that happened; yet Viktor ignored it for Vander's sake

So the lying by omission he did with his commune, if it wasn't his idea, it was something he 100% agreed with. And again, Viktor isn't 100% innocent, he's an intelligent man that knows how to lie and manipulate and will do so if he thinks it's necessary

(Which makes it so old Viktor in LoL is more honest than Arcane Viktor and that's so funny to me lmao)

Now, I know people say that Herald Viktor it's a corrupted version of Viktor, but I don't think so. Not corrupted, but something Viktor always had the potential to be. Herald Viktor was the version of him with the most control over his actions and surrondings; he's the Viktor that was always inside him, the person he would've been if he didn't feel limited by his own body, by his social status, by where he was born, and this shows on how this parallels Jayce's arc

I've seen a lot of people saying that Jayce went through what Viktor had to suffer, having to climb up from the deepest parts of Zaun with a hurt leg to the top of Piltover, only that with Jayce it was literal. But I saw someone on tiktok (I don't remember the account and I can't find the video anymore, sorry :( ) pointing out that Viktor also had to go through what happened to Jayce in the first season

In the first season, Jayce was a scientist with a pretty face and charming personality that was seduced by power, he was suddenly given a lot of it, and instead of holding onto his ideals, he turned away from them. He became a corrupt politician and then used that power to betray Heimerdinger, someone who was very important to him. Later he thought himself judge, jury, and executioner and that resulted in a child from Zaun dying

Viktor finds himself in a similar position, a scientist with a healthy perfect body that was suddenly given a lot of power, he became the leader of a community, someone people looked up to for guidance and help. And then after Jayce rejected him he also thought he was judge, jury, and executioner with the right to do whatever he wanted because he was right and everyone else was wrong. The problem being that Viktor had way more power than Jayce ever did

So, if anything Viktor wasn't being corrupted by the Hexcore, the thing that seduced Viktor was power over other people

And you could say "Viktor during the first season wasn't like that at all" but it's easier to be a good person when you don't have the choice to harm others

Another point to add it's that Arcane is a series that uses a lot of visual storytelling, if you just hear the dialogue you are missing 50% percent of the story at the very least; it trusts you to see what's going on

Now, after Ekko throws the Z drive at him and breaks the mask of the Arcane Herald; we can see the real Viktor underneath

I think this is why a lot of people think the Hexcore was controlling Viktor because we see the Arcane Herald, then we see "real" Viktor underneath, but that's not necessarily the case. In that moment we see half of Viktor's face, but look at what we can exactly see; his whole mouth and one eye are visible

Viktor is seeing what's going on, he understands what is happening around him; but he isn't seeing the whole picture, hence why it's only 1 eye. But his mouth is completely uncovered, whatever he says, that is 100% Viktor no doubt

And if Viktor was truly being controlled by the Hexcore/arcane/void/whatever, that would be the perfect moment for Viktor to snap out of it. For Viktor to say "this isn't me" and fight to get away from the corrupting force

But that isn't what happens, what happens is that Viktor is confused by Jayce's insistence and he says "Why do you persist? After everything I've done" this isn't Viktor saying "oh, I'm being controlled, help" this is him saying "I've done horrible things, why don't you hate me?"

So, Viktor was 100% aware of what was happening, he understood that what he was doing was wrong, and he still did it anyway

To add to this, there's this meme about Arcane that said something like "when in Arcane somebody is robbing banks and killing people the songs will start saying "oh, I'm robbing banks and killing people"" and that's true, and sometimes it's funny; but other times it's useful because the songs say things we aren't seeing

The line is 100% Viktor's song; it's the song that's playing as he erases Vander's memories (and the memories of the rest of his followers as well probably) and decides to give in and transform into the Herald

Once again, if the Hexcore was controlling Viktor, I think the song would've said something like "there's demons in my head" or "I can't help myself"

But no, the line is about someone, in this case Viktor; thinking about the consequences of his actions and if he's ready to accept them

The part where it says

"Honestly

I thought I was fully prepared for

The threshold in store

Stay your pretty eyes on course

I guess I never really faced my fears before

So stay with me because"

For me it's Viktor basically saying "I thought I was ready for the world (Jayce) to hate me; but I'm not so sure if I can face my fears of being alone"

Again, it's not about him not being in control, it's about him knowing that what he's doing is wrong, and that there'll be consequences, but he isn't sure if he's ready to deal with them

Then later, when Jayce shows him what mage Viktor saw; I think for him it was like himself confirming what he already thought or had an idea of what was going to happen, the consequences aren't worth it

After that, when we see Viktor again, this time he is fully visible, with both eyes uncovered because he can finally see the whole picture

But now that I've said that I don't think he was being controlled the question remains, then why was he doing all of that?

And this is more my interpretation of Viktor's story more than anything that happens in the show

So, look at Viktor, he was born in Zaun, disabled, sick, poor; but he managed to climb out of the undercity to Piltover going beyond the social structures that held him back, and even then, he only ever managed to be an assistant to Heimerdinger. That wasn't what he wanted, he himself says it, he was capable of so much more. And I think that Heimerdinger made the mistake of not believing (maybe not on a conscious level) that Viktor could be more; then along comes Jayce; and listen, if Viktor was the only one who truly believed in Jayce, I think the opposite it's also true, Jayce was the only one who believed in Viktor's true potential

Now put yourself in Viktor's shoes, nobody has ever believed in you, you had to drag yourself to the top; then you died and were brought back to life by this monstrous thing that you created that killed an innocent bystander, so you decided to run away to try to make your dream of helping people come true and redeem yourself (because the commune was that for Viktor, his dream of the glorious evolution) just for the only person who truly believed in you, probably the most important person in your life, coming back and rejecting you? I too would want to tear apart the world piece by piece

And the funny part, it's that Viktor is 100% using logic to justify his very irrational decision; no he isn't doing it because he's hurt, he's doing it because he wants to help people! He wants to stop suffering and the best way to do that is to erase free will

That's why I think what Viktor said after being confronted with Jayce in the Astral plane is so important "Why do you persist? After everything I've done" in my mind, after Jayce's rejection, he decided to give up and to do the bad thing; he knew it was wrong, but he decided to do it because he was hurt and wanted to hurt back, then he justified it by saying it was what it was necessary to do

And the funny part is that Singed already explained Viktor's motivation during the series "Why does anyone commits acts others deem unspeakable? For love"

Also, my last point on why I don't think it was Viktor being controlled or corrupted by the hexcore; simply because it would be very boring to do so lmao

Like, if Viktor was being controlled, suddenly a lot of what makes him interesting and complex is gone. So I prefer to think it was Viktor all along, that he always had it in him to do horrible things

[theotherrookie]

"I will. I must know if she still trusts me."

Then again, it could be his fae side talking and making him worry about breaking the rules when his actions could be considered acceptable. Cooking would indeed be a nice distraction.

Lucien began rolling up his sleeves, "Alright then, grab whatever you're fancying while I look for the most menacing knife."

He would stay out of the way for now. Rook was going to make the connection as soon as she saw him anyway.

"Oh, the word you're looking for is Peoplebusters." Erica replied, "It makes sense there because it's a mirror world. Everything's ghosts there, like Smokey."

"Meow."

"That's most excellent. Chick needs a new bike." Veronica pulled another vial out of her own bag, before she continued reading, "I assure you, I'm fine. I'm most active this time of year. I'll make myself a cup of tea later and I'll be good to go."

She felt that would be enough of a reassurance, given Leofric had been able to try the tea for himself. Besides, being able to do her job, even on top of taking care of her daughter, was always a pleasure.

"It stops being funny if it causes a mess, but fine." Rook grumbled.

Despite her brain feeling like mush, Rook was very much set on her opinions and her wish to understand what was going on. Getting told she wasn't fit to handle the situation was only making her more restless.

She forced herself to sit up, wobbling a bit as a wave of nausea washed over her. "Tell me what's going on or I'll ask Erica."

"Sports elves are very blunt!" Erica declared proudly. The cheerful tone didn't make it any less of a threat.

"You hear that? We don't fuck around. I want to know why I was wearing my armor and why Bill was crying."

"It wasn't part of our agreement." Lucien insisted, "I would keep her name in case something exactly like this happened and I would stop her, but I might have overstepped the line."

He was ready to fight Five himself, if necessary. Still, he worried that he had made a mistake that could ruin their friendship. 'Any means necessary ' were very vague terms.

But he supposed he would have to ask Rook, once she was in the condition to have that conversation. Lucien sighed, giving a halfhearted shrug, "You fought valiantly as well. How does soup sound like to you?"

Erica grinned and took her hood off, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the light again, "That was my job after I ran from the horde. You know the Ghostbusters? It was something like that. I hunted humans before they could scare the ghosts."

After unloading a major part of her backstory, Erica went back to eating. She briefly looked over at Antonio, deciding he was busy scheming, thus shouldn't be bothered.

"We will see who prevails between the two of you." the ghost lady replied, before nodding at Leofric, "I'll take over for this last stretch so you can rest properly and be back on the field in top shape."

Regardless of what had happened, she felt more at ease knowing Leofric was keeping an eye on Rook when she couldn’t. Veronica nodded at the instructions, fishing out the right bottle, before checking her journal.

Rook rubbed at her eyes, not feeling like doing much more than that at the moment. Her head was pulsating and she felt like she got run over again, except that even her wings were hurting this time.

"I still shouldn’t have left that note. It was a stupid own and now they might use that against us." She squeezed her eyes shut. The light in the room was unbearable. "Why are we here anyway? I was taking a nap. Did I sleepwalk all the way here or something?"

[crushedsweets]

im so curious how it would play out in the hypothetical, unlikely situation that toby does read that letter/ connie catches him some how

i like that you specify hypothetical/unlikely cuz you know my annoying ass would be like "tbh im not sure it would happen cuz xyz" LMFAOOOOOOOOO.

anyhow. in the TOTALLY POSSIBLE situation that toby read the letter(smth adjacent to "i love you, i care for you, i forgive you, im sorry for everything, youre still my baby, take care of yourself") i think he might cave. wait for a day connie visits lyras grave and anxiously walk towards her. all quiet, giving himself time to change his mind. he tics and catches her attention - no choice but to say hi now.

immediately she'd start bawling, crumpling to the ground and wailing out apologies and pleas and asking him where he's been, what he's been doing, has he been safe. in every other situation, toby tries so hard to be strong and put up a facade of arrogance, sadism, carelessness. but i think if he saw connie like that (years after killing his dad, when he's developed a stronger support system and improved his mental health) he'd start crying too. kneel down in front of her and try hugging her, something about "stop that mom stop stand up please stop crying stand up please" and choke out the saddest laugh in the entire world when she cries about how he's gotten so big and his voice has gotten so deep.

i think she'd be able to convince him to come sit in the car with her and talk. she'd be impossible to console, holding his hand and crying. she'd calm down, and then look at how tired he looks, start crying again. calm down, see that he still wears lyras necklace, cry again. etc etc. eventually she'd exhaust herself and actually maintain a conversation with him, but it would mostly be toby being like "i just cant talk about it, but i promise im doing good ma. i got friends, really good friends" and skirting around a lot of her questions. he'd forget to ask her questions, because he stalked her enough to know most of the answers, but she wouldnt mind.

neither of them want to talk about frank, and if she even tried bringing him up, toby would cut her off and insist they dont need to talk about it. he'd struggle with it a lot, MAYBE coughing up an apology for widowing connie, but he's not sorry about killing frank and he's trying not to tell her that. so he rather avoid it entirely.

she'd try to ask him to stay, but he'd be like ??? r u serious. and shed be like okay. youre right. im sorry. and i think thatd kill him a little, watching her apologize to him like that.

in a nicer world, he'd give her a phone number to call and they'd keep in contact. but toby is more likely to tell her he cant keep in touch(he'd make up an excuse, refuse to tell her its cuz he's scared she'll call the cops, even if he wants to trust her).

anyhow. um. um. shakes your hand. im tired n the rogers family hurts my soul

[theartofwoompwoomp]

I’m falling behind…

Rise Donnie x Reader 

prompt : “I’ve tried everything, but you-you just don’t care !”

————————————————————————

It had been terrible.

Everything went wrong since the moment you awoke. Just remembering it was bringing you a headache.

You massage your forehead trying to soothe the pain a bit. 

It didn’t help that these past few weeks haven’t been any easier, clearly life decided it suddenly wanted to be funny and honestly, you were so sick of its jokes.

But, even though this was all on your plate, you knew that wasn’t the real reason for your current mood. 

It actually had to do with a certain someone.  

Worst part is, this certain someone, is non other your turtle boyfriend.

I mean, you always tried to be understanding. Knowing that sometimes he needs his space and just won’t be able to talk everyday, that’s totally okay with you. 

but him not even responding and leaving you on read when you need his support !?

now that’s a different story 

You’ve tried being reasonable, after all, he is someone of logic who will act accordingly. But this had been different.

he just suddenly decide that ghosting you was the best solution !? 

Now, you had been patient with him. But it’s been two whole months, and you still haven’t seen or heard from him once ! 

And you knew there wasn’t anything particularly wrong. You had been keeping contact with his whole family to make sure he was alright. 

In fact, they didn’t understand his actions any better than you did. 

And when it finally hit three months you decided you waited enough. 

On your way there you messaged April that you’d get in a few minutes, and she confirmed that Donnie was there.

The whole family had a group chat without you or Don so they could usually gossip about y’alls dates and stuff. Though these past few months it’s mainly been used to try to figure out what’s going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you all typing suspiciously on your phones at the same time?” 

Snapping the things off and quickly repositioning themselves in the most normal poses. “What are you talking about Don??? We weren’t on our phones.” Leo strains a smile as the sweat drops from his head 

“Yes, and i don’t have eyes. Don’t lie to me Nardo, it’s not funny.” Offended a bit that they were clearlylying to his face. 

Yet the only thing they could think of was buying you more time. They knew nothing was going to improve if these two didn’t speak to each other.

And at that, leo got an idea. 

“Nardo why are you looking at me like that?”  Questioning as his twin goes near him making him back up a bit. “What do ya mean Donnie, I ain’t doing nothing.”

He squints at his brother in distrust, knowing that smirk on his face. “Nardo, what ever you are planning i suggest you refrain this insistence.” 

Leo shrugs but not before striking to open a portal right under him, trapping him as he falls into a confined room.

“Sorry Dee, but trust us ! You both need this !” And the portal closed.

———————————————————————

the heck?!

What was his brother thinking?! And what in the world did he mean by both? As far as he can see, he’s the only one in the room.

Well at least he has his phone. 

He kept spamming his family messages, yet wherever leo left him had the absolute worst signal. 

Honestly he was already planning his twin’s murder as he played some offline mobile game.

It wasn’t tell he saw the portal up again he stood up ready to give his brother and earful of his anger. 

“Nardo you crossed the line.” His nose scrunching a bit, “you won’t get away with this.”

But leo never came out the other side.

Instead he was shocked to see the person he hope he never saw again. 

You came through, and the portal closed behind.

All his emotions crashed as reality wrapped around his throat, preventing him to reach out or say anything.

That look on your face was harsh and cold. A lot more empty and tired than what he remembered. 

“What’s wrong Dee? Didn’t like my surprise.” You taunted him. He had expected your attitude, but it still hurt seeing how much you changed because of him. he didn’t plan on seeing you again this way. 

but, maybe you were right,…. maybe it was too late to save anything.

———————————————————————

Masterlist 

[fuji09]

Thank y'all both so much for what y'all added!

So many people don't understand that survival mode, isn't something easily overcome when you're in it for years. And Derek was in it for 6 years before we first met him. His fight or flight (and freeze!) response is literally why he reacts the way he does.

He sometimes fights, especially with hunters or the supernatural, it can be kill or be killed, with Kate and hunters, and sometimes just the people around him, he flees.

He looks scared so many times, he puts himself in danger to try to keep others from dying so many times, and he really is just a scared boy.

I hate that they changed his age, 19 was perfect for him. Him being 21 isn't too bad, plus it makes the trauma so much worse that he literally isn't a functioning adult 6 years later.

Derek is betrayed so many times that it's kinda gross. Derek can't risk trusting the wrong person again.

Derek keeps being hurt but because of his age, people don't care. Because he's a guy, he wasn't really raped. Derek keeps being blamed for everything because he's the only person that isn't allowed to fuck up, even though he does fuck up a lot. Derek is obviously power hungry because he killed Peter instead of *checks notes* letting a traumatized boy who was bitten against his will that doesn't want to be a werewolf and knows nothing about being a werewolf, in love with a hunter's daughter, would not be able to mentally handle killing someone, and has been a werewolf for like a few months and would not be able to handle being an alpha werewolf or handle more power than he already has trouble with, kill Peter because a rumor says killing the one who bit you could possibly turn you back to human.

Derek was traumatized, Derek was used and abused, Derek had to mercy kill his first love, Derek lost his entire family in the fire and feels guilty for it, Derek loses his last family member, Laura, who is also his alpha and probably the only person who actually interacted with him for 6 years, and Derek has been tortured, raped, and sexually assaulted.

But Derek isn't allowed to make mistakes because he isn't a minor. Derek isn't allowed to have ugly symptoms of PTSD because he's expected to just get over it. Derek isn't allowed to be scared because he should know better.

Derek literally feels he has to be useful to someone to be worthy of kindness.when he tells Scott he needs him alive to survive the hunters or tells Stiles he needs him alive to protect him from the Kanima, he's literally pleading with them to not let him die. Because they need him alive. Not because it's the right thing to do or because they care, but because Derek has to be of use for them to trust in these two teens that they won't let him die.

And I feel that's how a lot of people see Derek. He has to be useful to anyone and everyone all the time (whether he has the ability to do so or not) and if he's not or he makes a mistake, then clearly he deserves all the bad shit he gets.

It's heartbreaking. The lack of empathy for Derek in the show and within the fandom is appalling.

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[manda-kat]

Sometimes you really just have to let people be mad at you.

I've known several people with anxiety, RSD and other personal hurdles that lead them to be super aware of tone changes and anything that may hint at a person being angry or upset at them. A lot of those relationships didn't end very well, but hey- my heartbreak can be your learning opportunity! (This is especially important if you know you have a tendency to overthink relationships)

It's okay to just let the other person be mad at you!

Here's a story that's happened to me a few times. Someone meets me, becomes my friend and everything is great until one day I suddenly change. I give them a weird tone or I don't respond like I usually do. I must be angry at them. They ask if I'm angry at them. I say no. They aren't convinced. Every time they ask me, I tell them I'm fine. They don't know how to make me tell them what's bothering me. I become more distant every time they ask. Finally it comes to a head and they're convinced I hate them and they've ruined the entire relationship by being a terrible person.

Meanwhile, on my side of things, we're both enjoying life until one day out of the blue they ask if I'm angry at them. I have no reason to be angry at them. I say no. They continue to ask over and over again, each time getting reassurance that I'm not angry. It comes to a point where I'm pretty sure I must be doing something to upset them, but I have no idea what. We both become convinced the other person hates us.

If you ever feel stuck in this kind of situation, please try to just let it go. When you ask 'are you mad at me' and they say 'no'- take it as a no! You might not be as good at reading emotions as you think you are. Me personally? I have trouble expressing my emotions- especially over text. But for some reason, telling them that didn't help. They were convinced that they knew how I felt and that I was lying about not being angry.

So if you ask someone 'are you mad at me?' And they lie and tell you 'no'... that's a them problem. Either they don't want to push the issue OR they actually aren't upset at all. Either way, they won't want you to keep asking. If they're mad, let them be mad. They'll get over it easier if you don't keep bringing it up.

They're a big, mature person who can make their own emotional choices and can pick their own battles. If they AREN'T mature enough to deal with their emotions in a healthy way, then forcing them to keep addressing those issues is only going to upset both of you!

You don't need to face their feelings for them. They don't need to admit their frustration with you. If they're hiding their own feelings, then it's usually out of kindness. You don't need to know every single time someone is mad at you. That sounds like torture. Your friends don't want to torture you.

If you keep asking and pushing, then when you do finally upset them, they won't feel safe telling you because you've convinced them you're emotionally needy and can't handle negative feedback. Even if you're just trying to be mature, you can end up convincing them of the opposits.

Your relationships are going to develop their own spoken and unspoken rules over time, but a good rule of thumb is: ask once. If you REALLY think they're being dishonest with you, ask again, making it clear that you just want to make sure you haven't done anything wrong. If they insist they're fine, then they're fine. Move on.

It might be hard to just take someone's word for it and it feels like open communication may be the only way to keep a healthy relationship, but sometimes you need to have a little faith in your friend. Sometimes you need to be able to let sleeping dogs lie. If it's important enough for them to tell you, trust them to tell you.

Don't overcommunicate your friendships to death.

[lucidl0ser]

Hiii I hope you're doing good! Con you write headcanons about Ran, Izana, Hanma's Ideal types? Add anyone if you want, these 3 are my favs so I hope you don't mind writing for Hanma again, if you don't want to write for Hanma again just don't, idmm <3 Have a good day/night!! 🎀

Ran, Izana and Hanma's ideal types!

*********************

I will write for Hanma all day and night, I love him so much he's my second favorite in the whole series ♡

*********************

Ran

○ Okay but I definitely see Ran being with someone more assertive and confident

○ Like imagine him with a s/o who just won't put up with his bullshit and would literally yank the blankets off him if he's sleeping too long

○ It would definitely infuriate him, but at the same time, he'd have that cocky smirk on his face

○ Honestly as long as you're willing to cuddle him while he sleeps, I think he'd love you ♡

Izana

○ Okay but he needs someone who would be able to just sit there and listen to him. I feel like if he trusts you, he'd definitely rant a lot to you

○ But he's also the type to glare down any guy who looks at you funny. The moment someone tries hitting on you, they're having his foot collide with their face ♡

○ He would probably like a s/o bold enough to stand their ground in certain situations, but also one who would get shy with his occasional romantic gestures

○ Overall he needs someone who would support him and won't look down on him for his past and the things he's done in his youth

Hanma♡

○ Definitely likes someone shorter than him. Obviously that's most people with his outrageous height

○ He needs someone who's willing to fuck around and get in trouble with him, trespassing with the occasional shoplifting just for the thrill

○ I feel like he'd like someone on the shyer side, having that grin on his face whenever he sees the red fill your cheeks

○ Sweet boy is also very clingy, so he needs someone who will be able to deal with that. He'd definitely the type to just pick you up at random and squeeze you for the fun of it ♡

*********************

I hope you like it!!!

[poppadom0912]

🍰 with Conner Rhodes. Prompts ‘this isn’t up for debate’ and/or ‘are you hurt’? Congrats on 1k!!!

A/N: Thank you so much for ordering! I've been in a bit of a slump recently and I wasn't motivated to write anything till you sent this so another thank you. Please enjoy!!

🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰

"Are you hurt?"

You whipped your head to the door, immediately regretting it as the pain pulsated, head continuously throbbing and eye twitching. You took so long to recollect yourself that you missed the concern wash over your husband who instantly rushed over to you, bag discarded and coat still on.

"What the hell happened?" His voice was ever so soft, drowning in concern, his gentle fingers cradling your face, both hands providing warmth the snow outside couldn't.

"Just a small accident at work." You said under your breath, voice hoarse from all the shouting. "It looks worse than it feels, trust me."

"You look like you've been in a car accident, this isn't small at all- your hands are bleeding!"

Sighing, you were already internally preparing to give up. You were so tired after a long day at work that you didn't have it in you to be your usual stubborn self who would fight so everything would go your way.

"We're going to med." Connor said with that no-nonsense tone to express his seriousness, knowing that you were going to fight back.

Which is exactly what you did.

"Con please, a few bandages, a shower and painkillers and I'll be perfectly fine." You argued back, already moving to stand up, trying your best not to wince at the burning in your legs.

"Oh my- you can't get even up you're in so much pain." Connor said under his breath, his hands feather light as he supported you in getting up. "What even happened?"

Yeah, there was no way in hell you were telling him what happened, he'd carry you out the house to the hospital no questions asked.

He clearly didn't appreciate the silence.

"Baby please." He stopped you from walking away, his big eyes boring into yours with desperation that only made you hurt more. "Just let me help you."

Sighing, you begrudgingly told him, unable to not fold when he looked at you like that.

"We were chasing someone on the run and we didn't realise there was two of them... so I might've gotten hit by a car."

Silence

"I'm sorry." Connor laughed incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief before asking, "Say that again for me because there's no way I just heard you say you got hit by a car."

You sucked air through your teeth, remaining silent, watching as reality set in.

Nodding his head, Connor looked on the edge of hysteria.

"We're going to med." He stated, picking up your phone and going to get your jacket. "Right now, let's go."

"Con babe-"

"This isn't up for debate." He finalised, resting your coat on your shoulders.

"It's okay to ask for help, that's why I'm here - it's why you married a surgeon." A soft smile made its why to his face. "Let me do my job and look after my wife, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." He said before sweeping you off your feet so smoothly that you felt no pain even after the sudden movement.

Squealing, you tried to keep down the laughter as not to be in more pain, you hands tightening around Connor's neck as he started walking.

"My gorgeous stubborn wife, oh what ever will I do with you." He said wistfully, making sure the door was locked behind him before looking down at you so fondly that it was hard to believe that his wife just got hit by a car.

"Ah, you'll just have to pamper her and be at her beck and call for the rest of eternity - that's the least you could do." You played along, your smile brightening as the pain dimmed a little.

"Oh no! I'm forever doomed, someone needs to save me."

Giggling, you found yourself relaxing, almost going limp in his arms.

"I'm joking, the only person who needs saving is Ruzek for not calling me the second you got hurt."

Shit. Adam was screwed and there was no one able to save him.

[traegics]

"Made an effort and tried to apologize and yet, the second you found out that I would be having twins," Jo counters. "You would've tried to kill them no matter what. I can never forgive you for that, Kai. Do you understand that? I can never forgive you for attempting to kill my kids, for taking me from them. We had years before they would've needed to merge, we could've found a way to stop it because that's not what I would have ever wanted for my girls but instead you decided that family genocide was the only answer."

Dark irises rolled at his random rambling, arms crossing over her chest as she simply shook her head before taking a step back as he moved towards her. "It's best you never stop by again," the witch eventually presses, even as a part of her fights her on it. In truth, she would always care for Kai. He was her twin brother after all. That kind of bond- it just never fades but trusting him, allowing him another chance. She couldn't and she didn't think she would ever be able to.

Kai smirked to himself for several moments as he listened to his sister's disapproving tone and the underlying disgust in her voice. There was a nauseating sort of sensation twisting in his chest and he realized he had actually missed Jo. Chalk up another vomit-worthy feeling thanks to his brother's empathy. No, perhaps, a part of him had missed her anyway - in his own sick and twisted way. The smirk instantly faded as she stopped talking, however, and he rose to his feet.

"I made an effort and I tried to apologize to you and to Bonnie about everything. Yet, the only thing you people did was spit in my face how I could 'never change' - so, "He shrugged, "Why not prove you all right?" He stated.

"Funny story, the Devil. I knew him, for a little while - a man named Cade. He wasn't that interesting - but the woman that took his place for a brief while before Hell got obliterated into done-zo-ville? Ooo." He shuddered and grinned. "She was fun." He remarked. Waving his hand dismissively at the thought, he began pacing towards the woman.

"You're looking...nice." He stated - clearly struggling to find the words he wanted to use that didn't make him want to choke before saying them. "Sorry I didn't drop by sooner. Had my hands a little busy with these Triad freaks." He frowned.

[captainsophiestark]

My Hero

Steve Rogers x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Steve's next door neighbor needs a hand moving in a bunch of science equipment, so he offers to help. But he's in for a surprise when he realizes that the neighbor in question has absolutely no idea who he is.

Word Count: 2,456

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Uh, excuse me? Do you need help with that?"

My arms were full carrying test tubes and other scientific equipment, so I couldn't see who'd spoken. I'd just bought a new apartment in Washington DC, and when it was time to move all my furniture in I drafted a bunch of strong friends to help me. All my delicate, expensive machines and glass test tubes, on the other hand, I didn't trust anyone else to move, so I'd decided to do it all by myself.

That was proving to be more of a challenge than I'd initially anticipated.

I managed to carry my last load to the elevator of my building without help, but with my hands this full I had no way to push the 'up' button.

"Uh..." I said, pausing to consider just for a second before admitting defeat. I sighed. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind just pushing the up button for me. And then... maybe my floor number after that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw whoever'd offered their help move around me to push the button on the elevator. I had my stuff piled up so high that I couldn't see them, but after they'd pushed the button, they hovered nervously next to me.

"Are... are you sure you don't want a hand with the rest of that?"

"Nope, I'm good," I said, raising my voice just a little to make sure I was heard over the stack in my arms. "Thanks, though."

"Sure thing."

The elevator dinged, and I headed in, trusting the person who I assumed was a neighbor in the building to stay out of my way. I caught a glimpse of him as I walked into the elevator, since he'd stepped forward to make sure the door didn't close on me. I shot him a smile, although I doubt he'd actually been able to see it.

"Which floor?"

"Three, please."

"Hey, that's mine too."

I smiled again. "Well then, it's nice to meet you neighbor. Unless we've already met before. Sorry, I can't see a whole lot around this stuff in my arms."

The guy chuckled. "No, I don't think we've met before. But it's nice to meet you, too."

The elevator dinged again as we reached our floor and the doors slid open. I stepped out first, my new friend following behind me.

"Is there anything else I can do to help...?" he asked, and I could feel him hovering around me. I paused, weighing my options. I stopped in the hallway and made a point of leaning around the stack in my arms to look at the man who'd been helping me. He was tall, blond, and clearly very strong. He looked nice enough, but that obviously didn't mean much. Still, he'd been very helpful and respectful so far, and he hadn't tried to push his "help" on me by taking anything out of my arms, either. Besides, if I hadn't been able to hit an elevator buton, a doorknob was definitely going to defeat me.

"Well... if you wouldn't mind getting my apartment door for me? It's 3C, just down on the left. It's unlocked."

"Sure thing. I'm 3F, right across from you."

"Wow. I can't believe I've never run into you before."

"Yeah, well... part of my job is keeping weird hours."

I frowned as we reached my door. I was able to walk through, no problem, thanks to my neighbor's help, and I turned all my focus to the stack in my arms as I set it gently, carefully down on the counter. I sighed once it was officially safe and sound, then turned back to my neighbor.

"What's your job?"

He frowned, but it did absolutely nothing to diminish just how incredibly handsome he was. Especially now that I wasn't distracted, and I could see my neighbor without obstruction, including his gorgeous blue eyes and how strong he looked.

"You're asking... what my job is?" he asked, as if to clarify. I nodded.

"Yeah. Should I not be?"

He blinked at me for another moment, then shook his head quickly.

"No, no, it's great. Uh, I do some work for SHIELD."

"Oh, yeah! You know, I applied there, but I ended up going with a job at Stark Industries instead. Most of their stuff's in New York, but I managed to snag this D.C. post. I'm hoping to move up to New York soon, though."

"You work for Stark Industries?"

"Heck yeah I do! Biochemistry research and development. And I guess you probably can't tell me what you do at SHIELD."

The corner of his mouth pulled up.

"Probably."

"Fair enough. Well, look, I don't usually invite strange men into my apartment, but since I'm not sure I could've made it back up here without your help, do you want something to drink? A lemonade or a coffee or something?"

The guy had a slightly bemused look on his face, but he nodded all the same.

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"Sure thing." I moved towards the kitchen, motioning for him to follow me and shut the door behind him. "By the way, I don't think I ever officially got your name."

He smiled like I'd just given him the best news of his life.

"I'm Steve. It's nice to officially meet you."

****************

Inviting Steve in for a drink turned out to be one of my best decisions since moving to DC. He was an absolute sweetheart, kind and funny, and after our first meeting we started regularly spending time together. Those casual hangouts had gradually turned more date-like, and not long after that first meeting, we'd started officially dating.

Steve had become a constant presence in my life. He'd be there to make me coffee just the way I liked when I got so buried in my at-home experimenting that I lost all concept of self-care, and I'd be there with my special extra-strength version of icy hot that Steve swore by when he came home from long shifts at SHIELD. He'd pretty quickly become an integral part of my life, and one that I didn't want to let go of any time soon.

So, when my phone rang mid-experiment and I saw the caller ID was a bad picture of Steve I'd taken last week, I actually smiled instead of scowling like I would've at an interruption from anyone else.

"Hi," I said, picking up the phone and moving it to rest between my shoulder and ear as I got back to work. "What's up?"

"Hi. I have a friend with me who I'd like you to meet. Would it be alright if we came over? Say... in an hour?"

I paused, eyeballing the bubbling beakers and test tubes still laid out on the table in front of me.

"That depends. Do you care that I'll have some of my work set up and running on the kitchen table? And can you promise your friend won't knock anything over or otherwise ruin what I'm working on?"

I could hear the smile in Steve's voice as he responded.

"No, I don't mind, and yes, I'm sure he won't ruin your experiment."

"Then sure, come on over!"

"Great. We'll see you in an hour."

"See you then!"

I paused long enough to put the phone back on the table, then went right back to my work. I got so absorbed in it, the next hour absolutely flew by. I'd just managed to get things to a stable point, where I could leave it alone until tonight or tomorrow with no problems, when a knock came at the door.

"One second!" I called, standing and grabbing my phone before doing a quick scan of my apartment to make sure I hadn't left out anything embarrassing. Thankfully, it was clean enough. I went to do the door and opened it with a smile on my face, expecting to see Steve with a friend.

Steve was there, as expected. But behind him, standing just over his shoulder with a friendly smile on his face, was Dr. Bruce Banner.

"Oh my god," I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. Steve and Dr. Banner both looked surprised, but I couldn't even begin to process that. After a moment's stunned silence, I managed to drag my eyes from Dr. Banner himself back to my boyfriend. "Steve... is this... is this the friend you were talking about?"

"I- yeah. Yeah, this is Bruce."

I let out a squeal that I was not proud of. I quickly cleared my throat, trying to cover it, then stepped back and opened my door wider for the both of them.

"Sorry, sorry. Please, come in. It's just... Steve, why didn't you tell me you were friends with the Dr. Bruce Banner?"

Steve looked absolutely shocked. "You... recognize him?"

"What? Of course I do! Dr. Banner's the entire reason I decided to take the job with Stark Industries, instead of with SHIELD!" I took a deep breath, then shook my head and turned to Dr. Banner. "I'm sorry. I'm being incredibly rude. It's an absolute honor to meet you, seriously. Your biochemical PhD thesis is... at least half the reason I decided to go into the field in the first place."

Dr. Banner looked a bit stunned, but he had a faint smile on his face, which grew as I spoke to him. He held out his hand for a shake, which I happily accepted.

"I'm... happy it had such a positive impact. It's nice to meet you too. And please, call me Bruce."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak in response to that. Steve was still looking at me like I was an extra-difficult rubik's cube, and I silently raised my eyebrows at him in question. Before he could answer, Bruce aparently caught sight of my setup on the table.

"Wow. Is this yours?"

"Yeah!" I said, turning excitedly to watch as he moved to look over my experiment. "I've been spending my freetime outside of SI working on it."

"It's impressive!"

I swear I almost blacked out.

I was about to head over to the table to keep engaging with Bruce about my experiments, but before I could, Steve caught my arm. I turned around to face him again with raised eyebrows.

"Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to totally cold shoulder you. It's just... this is like a dream right now."

"I can't believe you know who he is," he said, sounding a little strange, although I couldn't put my finger on why. I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"...Do you really not know who I am?"

Steve seemed seriously suspicious of something, and I was starting to think he'd accidentally sniffed one of Bruce's experiments in a SHIELD lab that he shouldn't have.

"Steve, what are you talking about? Of course I know who you are. You're my boyfriend, an absolute sweetheart, and one of the only people I've ever met who got to watch Star Wars without already knowing about the 'I am your father' reveal. Why would you think I don't know you? Did you get exposed to a biohazard? Let me get my kit-"

I started to head off towards the bedroom, but he pulled me back. He looked calmer now, more himself, but deadly serious as he spoke.

"I'm Captain America. Steve Rogers, Captain America. That's how I know Bruce. I was going to find a better time to tell you, but... I didn't expect you to know who Bruce was, either. Feels like I should probably address it now."

I just stared blankly at him for a few moments, trying to decide if he was serious. Steve looked braced for whatever my reaction might be, shock or disbelief or anger or whatever else, but I just pulled out my phone. A quick internet search confirmed that, yes, Steve Rogers my boyfriend was the same Steve Rogers from the 1940s, also known as Captain America. I stared at the screen for another few moments, my mind updating with this new information, then I looked back at Steve.

"...Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

He sighed. "I should've. I'm sorry. It was just... nice. To have somebody look at me for once and see me, not the shield or the legend or whatever. It was selfish, and I should've fixed the mistake a long time ago."

I thought about it for another moment, then finally, I shrugged.

"It's okay."

"...Really? Just like that?"

"Yeah. Honestly, Steve, it doesn't really change anything for me, other than now I know why you like my version of icy hot better than anything else out there when it's literally too strong for anyone else to stand. But... thank you for telling me."

Steve stared at me for a second in disbelief, then grinned.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah. Now, with all the love in the world, let's hug it out later. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me to get feedback on my experiment from Bruce Banner himself."

Steve just laughed as I turned around to join Bruce at the dining table. He was perfect, as usual, as I talked to Bruce for over an hour about the project I'd been working on. Thankfully, this was one occasion when "never meet your heroes" didn't prove to be true. Bruce was kind and wonderful and helpful at every turn, and after a while, we moved on from science to chat about other things, looping Steve back into our conversation. Neither of them could believe I'd recognized Bruce and not Captain America, but they both seemed pleasantly surprised by it.

Bruce ended up staying for dinner, and by the end of the night, he actually felt like a friend instead of the larger-than-life scientist who'd been my inspiration for so long. Steve and I stood in the doorway of my apartment waving as he headed out for the night, then stepped back inside with matching smiles on our faces.

"That was one of the best days of my life," I said. Steve just laughed.

"I'm glad I could help facilitate it. And I think Bruce had a great time, too. You're... sure you don't care about the Captain America thing?"

I grinned. "I'm sure. Sorry, Cap, but I've never really cared about the jock superheroes."

Steve laughed again, pulling me into his side as he did.

"Honestly, I'm glad to hear it. You wanna put on a movie?"

"Sounds like a perfect end to the day to me. You pick one out, I'll get us some drinks and popcorn."

Steve smiled, then pulled me in for a quick kiss before haeding towards the tv in the living room. I headed towards the kitchen, a ridiculous smile on my face. I'd met my idol today, but the wonderful man in the living room was what really made things perfect. No matter who or what else he might be to the world, he'd always be my Steve. He never needed to be anything else.

****************

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