Hyun-hwanj - M.tilda

𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍

⇝ 𝗁𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇

𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 <𝟥

꧁ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀- 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉， 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅！𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋， 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 ！𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗑 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 ！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

꧁ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗎 𝗅𝗎𝗏 𝗂𝗍<𝟥 ，，𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗒 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 （𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗀 ）， 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗃𝗈𝖻 （𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖼）， 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗎𝖻𝖾，，， 𝗍𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝖾<𝟥， 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝖱𝖠𝖧𝖧𝖧， 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 （𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 ， 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒） （𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝖾）， 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 <𝟥

꧁ 𝖺／𝗇- 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗅𝗆𝖿𝖺𝗈𝗈𝗈 𝗂 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝟧 𝖺𝗆 𝗂𝖽𝗄 𝗐𝗍𝖿 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇<𝟥

“hyune?” you called out to your boyfriend with red cheeks. your boyfriend was rutting into your ass after he woke up with the biggest boner. you don’t mind though. you love when he’s needy like that.

“sorry princess- you look s-so pretty.” hyunjin kisses your head.

“you don’t want me to help hyune?” he looks at you with a tired expression. his eyes light up after he hears your words.

“i mean- if you want to help me. it’s early-“ you shake your head.

“pretty boy deserves my help.” hyunjin is so pretty and especially now. he’s shirtless in his sweatpants. you reach into his sweats to pull his dick out.

“you’re so hard hyune.” you coo at him with a smirk.

“you’re- g-god so so pretty.” he whimpers out to you as you spit into your hand to stroke his cock slowly.

“b-baby-“ he reaches for you to kiss him. you kiss him softly as he starts to fuck your hand. he doesn’t try to mask his whimpers as he throws his head back.

“feel good hyune?” his nod is quick as his breath speeds up. he’s breathing quickly as he falls apart for you. your hand is quick on his cock.

“princess- let me see.” you help him pull your shirt up to show your tits. hyunjin pinches at your nipples with a groan. you moan at his touch.

“i-i’m so wet for you hyune-“ he fucked your hand faster with breathy cries for you.

“so perfect princess- look at y-you.” his hips are stuttering slightly as he gropes your tits. he loves your tits and you knew this so you would tease him just a little. bouncing them a little for him and you could tell he was close.

“b-baby fuck i’m gonna c-cum. come here princess.” he pulls you to kiss him. he roughly kisses you as his other hand holds your face. he pulls away from the kiss when he gets closer. his whimpers are so pretty to listen to.

“coming- oh f-fuck princess.” he cums so much. painting your hand with white ropes of cum.

“you came so much hyune. can you give me another one?” you start to speed up your hand again and hyunjin can only nod.

“mm- yea. p-princess please.” you just smile at him. he’s just so pretty why wouldn’t he deserve the best?

Aphrodisiacs · 「Brainrot」

➥ Roommate!Minho x Reader (f) — 3.2k

➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

⚠ — Perversion, auditory exhibitionism & voyeurism, crass language.

➥ Every time one of you brings someone over, the other gets the live broadcast through your shared wall. It ignites a petty pissing contest between you when all you want is, in fact, each other.

It all started with the big bang that was “Yo, this ad says the apartment has a terrace!” and you ended up being roommates with Lee Minho. 

Chill guy, flexible, not a neat freak nor a slob, and mostly kept to himself. It was easy to live with him. The aforementioned terrace qualified you as the default party hosts, which happened quite frequently, and it was during those buzzed nights that you got to learn he had a fun alter ego that only came out to play when his inhibitions were low.

It was during those nights your flirting would get to dangerous thresholds since you both had an alibi to hide behind.

We were drunk.

You were teasing each other a lot, verbally or otherwise—you groping his ass in front of everyone, Minho catcalling when you walked into the room, dancing a bit more than suggestively just to be able to indecently touch each other, coming very very close to kissing, but always stopping yourselves right at that point.

That was the line.

Even your friends were joking that you should date since it was painfully obvious that you wanted each other. You already lived together and you were needlessly familiar with one another, but neither of you was willing to take that leap of faith for fear of the inevitable awkwardness to follow. 

Nope, we’re perfectly fine like this.

Meanwhile, what you were doing behind his back was just…

There was this weird possessiveness you had over him. It wasn’t likely that you were going to end up together, but you still didn’t like the idea of Minho being involved with someone else. Some days, your Minho craving would be so bad that you picked up the habit of stealing his print tees right after he changed. You were secretly masturbating with the piece of fabric right under your nose, still warm with his body temperature, and after cumming very hard to all the outrageous fantasies you had of him, you would take a shower, then hug his t-shirt to sleep. It smelled just like him.

You wouldn’t mind falling asleep hugging the actual source of that cozy scent actually, but… 

Well…

You could be as possessive as you wanted. You could be the reigning queen of possessiveness, but it still wasn’t going to prevent Lee Minho from being able to collect bitches left and right looking like the guy he was. He was inevitably going to feel attracted to someone, make a move on them, and if the person was sane enough, they were going to agree to get railed by him. On a Saturday night, your impending doom indeed came into being.

Minho came home drunk as hell with a girl.

At first, you thought your ears were playing a trick on you, but it was indeed real. He was having sex, and the wall you shared was so thin that they might as well have been fucking in your own room.

Your initial reaction was quite reminiscent of acid reflux. A painful burn in the pit of your stomach as if you were being gutted alive, but then it mutated into something else. Something sick. Something you were ashamed of.

You hated how aroused you were listening to him fuck this bitch, but there you were, concerningly wet. Your hand moved on its own and started caressing your pussy, and it wasn’t long before you started fingering yourself. In your imagination, Minho was eating your pussy. He was calling you all those horrendous names, asking to fuck your ass, moaning to how good you felt, and shooting his load inside you.

You learned to time yourself according to his release because the post-nut clarity usually manifested itself in you as an inextricable knot in your throat if he still didn’t finish by the time you came, and you would have to spend an extra long time in the shower until it stopped.

It was a quite natural thing to do. He was a human being with needs to be satisfied, and you couldn’t expect him to bust a nut in his own room forever.

But maybe you could.

You weren’t about to trap someone from scratch because who the fuck had the energy for that, and the closest thing you had at your disposal to get back at Minho was your old fuck buddy. Someone familiar who was down to fuck albeit not exactly doing a world-class job of satisfying you. Then again you were just so petty over Minho’s conquests that you saw no problem in initiating a pissing contest.

Meanwhile, what Minho was doing behind your back the entire time was just…

He was so alert to your presence that the guy actually knew the second you started releasing pheromones. He was intimately familiar with your masturbation patterns—you always took a shower afterwards, which was how he also knew about your atrocious secret. He would wait to see the bathroom lights being turned on in the hallway, and once he heard the water running in the shower, even when there was someone in his bed, he would close his door behind him and sneak into your room just to be able to taste you through the wet trail you left on your sheets. If your underwear wasn’t discarded right next to your bed, it was always on top of your laundry basket, freshly stained with your essence and ready to be pocketed by him.

It wasn’t because he was in dire need of cleaning himself that he took showers right after you. He knew what you were doing with that shower nozzle courtesy of you being unable to control the volume of your moans sometimes. He just wanted to bask in the awareness that you just had an orgasm here. Maybe to him once again.

He was hoping you came to him.

If only you knew about the long sessions where Minho edged himself licking on the traces of your cream on your underwear. Sometimes he would even wrap the fabric around his cock and pretend he was fucking you, panties to the side, but he would always always cum on it. He wished you would wear it like this. He wished you would just snap, barge into his room and fuck him in any way you’d like. He wasn’t going to demand anything in return; he just needed you to use him for your own pleasure like he was your personal toy, but you weren’t doing it, and he couldn’t initiate it, and he was getting sick of fucking random strangers.

Then one night the inevitable happened. You came home with a guy.

When he realized you were having sex next door, his initial reaction was quite reminiscent of his ribcage getting ripped apart. Sudden rage spreading throughout his body like shooting pains as if he was having homicidal thoughts, but then it transformed into something else. Something twisted. Something he would never admit out loud.

He never realized how much he despised the idea of you being involved with someone else.

He stroked himself listening to your moans, still quiet but much more audible than your alleged secrecy attempts, imagining it was him. In his imagination, Minho was decimating you. Minho was calling you all those horrendous names, asking to fuck your mouth, moaning to how tight your pussy was, and shooting his load inside you.

He hated that there was another guy with you in that room, but a tiny piece of detail he picked up on provided the most microscopic amount of satisfaction to him, barely preventing him from barging into your room and throwing an uppercut on this motherfucker’s face.

But you wouldn’t stop seeing him. Why were you still seeing him?

Minho was just so petty over your periodical visits that he saw no problem in partaking in your pissing contest.

He brought a girl. You brought a guy. The vicious cycle turned so frequent that one day the inevitable happened.

Your visits clashed. 

And everything went haywire.

No matter how much he wanted to spite the shit out of you, all Minho could see behind his closed eyes was you. No matter how much you loathed the fact that he was fucking someone else, all you could feel inside you was Minho. Listening to him grunt made you moan louder. Listening to you moan louder made him grunt more. The closer he got to his own release, the more you started clenching, so hard and frequently that the man hovering over your body couldn’t endure it much longer.

That was the first and last time you let him finish inside you.

You and Minho both showed the basic courtesy to let the people who didn’t live under that roof collect themselves, and then they left, awkwardly running into each other on the way out judging by the uncomfortable giggles.

You peeled yourself from your bed and wrapped a towel around you to take your much needed shower, almost flatlining when you opened your door.

“You let him cum inside, didn’t you?”

“Jesus fucki— You scared the shit out of me!”

“Answer the question,” Minho leaned against your doorframe, with only his boxers on and arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes, I did,” you arrogantly professed, “and if you don’t let me go, it’s gonna drip all the way down to my ankles.”

“Then let it drip.”

You loudly scoffed and started marching towards the bathroom just to get blocked by Minho on your way in.

“I’m sick of listening to you fuck him,” he spat through his teeth, “You know goddamn well who you really want is me.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling someone else over when you’re right next door,” you pushed his arm down and walked into the bathroom.

“Yes, you do because you want to spite me.”

“You’re fucking delusional.”

“Yes, I am,” he followed after you, “I’m so fucking delusional, I even think it fucking bothers you when I bring a girl over.” 

His words caught you so off guard that you couldn’t produce a comeback as quickly as you wished, which confirmed a lot of things in Minho’s mind.

“No, it doesn’t,” you eventually uttered devoid of all persuasion.

“Keep telling yourself that but it won’t stop being true,” he pressed, then broke into a derisive grin, “I gotta give it to you, though. You do have the fake orgasm noises down.”

“And you would know because your girl frequently makes those?” you sneered, getting dangerously close to crossing your civilized anger threshold, “I wasn’t faking shit.”

“She’s not my girl, and you're telling me he just ascended you without even eating your pussy?”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!”

“We’ve been living together for so long and you think I wouldn’t notice? All the porn you ever watch is cunnilingus footage!”

You and Minho had partaken in pretty violent diss battles before, but never once did you feel embarrassed like this as if you were caught red-handed indulging in disgraceful and immoral conduct. 

“A man should be ashamed of himself if he’s not eating pussy for his own pleasure, just FYI,” he took advantage of your pause and came a little closer to you, “The fuck are you doing with this lowlife when I’m right under your nose?”

“The same thing you’re doing with your personal whore, I guess,” you deadpanned while taking a step backwards, but you ran out of places to hide, literally and figuratively.

Minho trapped you against the glass door of the walk-in shower and pressed both hands on either side of you.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“Say what?”

“Say you want me to eat your pussy.”

“WHAT?”

“Do it.”

“You’re insane, Minho.”

“Own up to it for fucking once!” he raised his voice a tinge, running completely out of patience.

“What is there to own up to?!”

“You want me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You imagine me when you’re fucking this guy.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Are you too fucking blind to realize I’m pretending that I’m fucking you when I fuck these girls?!”

Your ears started ringing when Minho slammed his hands on the door behind you. Was he… being serious right now?

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do,” Minho closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I can move out if you want.”

“What are you t—?”

You had dreamed about his lips on yours for so long that it didn’t feel real for the first few seconds. It was like a dream, like being unable to run, being unable to scream, like landing punches with no impact. 

“Kiss me,” Minho pulled you back to reality by placing his hands on your shoulders and sliding them up your neck until he reached your cheeks, “Stop hating me, just kiss me. Please.”

Oh, how you longed for hearing his voice rendered in this exact key. Desperate. Pleading. He kissed you so much deeper the second time around, and there was no room for doubt that it was real. His tongue was swirling around yours. His fingers reached behind your ears. There was excess wetness in your mouth. On your folds.

In your eyes, for some reason.

“Risk it all with me,” he unwrapped the towel covering your body with one flick of his fingers and walked you into the shower, “I want you like crazy.”

The clash of your lips was much more violent this time, accompanied by heavy breathing and tugs of flesh, and you couldn’t stand the fact that there was anything standing between you any longer. You hooked your fingers around his waistband and got rid of his boxers as he turned on the shower and pulled you under the cold water slowly turning warm. 

Much like how you felt about him. Like how he felt about you. After all this time.

“Touch me,” you pressed his hands on your breasts.

Touching you was not enough. Kissing you was not enough. Minho had to feel you. He had to experience you afresh, exploring what every inch of your skin felt like under his touch, on his tongue, on every single one of his senses. When his hand reached between your legs to caress you, he felt something familiar oozing out of you, and the thought alone was making him dizzy. 

Your creampied cunt. 

He wanted to dump his cum inside you, too. For fuck’s sake, he had down-bad seniority over everyone else. He had earned this.

“It’s dripping,” he uttered matter-of-factly, but he was actually asking you a question. 

He was asking for permission.

You took a step back and leaned against the wall, then opened your legs wider for him.

“Replace it.”

He grabbed the shower nozzle and pressed it against your entrance while you pulled his body close to invite him in. The pressure and the temperature of the water was just right, very pleasant on your skin while washing everything away, and Minho’s lips were even better, an actual pillow fort providing all the comfort in the world to you. You palmed his girth as he fondled your breasts, making sure he was ready to char himself on your soul soon enough.

He placed the nozzle above your heads again and aligned himself with you, forcing every drop of his willpower to not blow on the spot. That first push was everything he ever wanted and more. Tight, warm, perfect for him to pave a new way inside you. 

“Hold on to me.”

You had imagined Minho in much more pornographic scenarios in your head before, and compared to the monstrosity that was your fantasies, this felt so intimate. Warm water trickling down your bodies like make-believe rain, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, his lips hugging yours, his eyes looking right into yours while going deeper, deeper, and deeper inside you. Listening to you moan from this up close was nothing short of heaven, and Minho was one faint breeze away from losing his whole entire mind over finally being able to fuck you.

No words were necessary. Just you. Just him. The sounds of mutual pleasure were echoing in your own bathroom, under the same roof you were living together, and you were making each other feel so unbelievably good that it was up for debate whether it was a skill thing, or something else.

“Can I cum?” he panted into your lips, “Please? Please?”

When you frantically nodded at his request, Minho picked up his pace, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and you threw your head back with your eyes closed. The closer he got to his release, the more you felt like his pleasure was sneakily seeping into your own body. When he finally let go and painted your walls through and through, moans spilling from his lips in a much different key than you were used to, both of you finally got to satisfy the morbid curiosity about what this feeling was like.

Sharing a single body with the person you didn’t even know you were in love with.

The fog of the shower embracing you both, Minho attached himself to your lips again, then kneeled in front of you, leaving a trail of kisses as he descended down your body. You looked down at him with endlessly expectant eyes as he spread your labia apart and licked his lips at the extremely delectable sight.

“Feed me,” he pleaded while hugging your thighs, and after what seemed like forever, he wrapped his lips around your clit.

You almost came to that first touch.

Nothing ever felt better than having Minho between your legs, slurping on your folds unabashedly loud as if to tell you This is what it’s supposed to feel like. Watching him eat his own cum out of you felt like sheer delirium, pushing you several steps closer to losing your mind with each lick. Each kiss. Each moan.

You had the strongest orgasm of your life in his mouth.

The warm water on your skin felt like it was washing away something that had been weighing you down forever, making you feel loads lighter. Minho stood up on his feet again and kissed you. He kissed you for a long time. He kissed you like he was asking you a silent question, and you responded eagerly.

“Your cum tastes perfect when you cum to me, you know,” Minho kissed your shoulder after getting out the shower.

“How would you know what my cum normally tastes like?” you looked at him in the mirror.

“You seriously never noticed the dried white stains on your underwear?” he cocked a brow, “I’ve been going at it like crazy every time you were in the shower.”

“WHAT?”

“Clueless on multiple fronts, I see,” he burst out laughing, then hugged your waist tighter, “Come to the kitchen with me. I’ll show you some other stuff I do with cream.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Secret mutual thirsting over your roommate where NO ONE does shit >>>>>>>>>

「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

Pairing : Yandere!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; basically a forced pregnancy ; late term pregnancy complications ; Minho is like, the worlds worst narcissist in this ; let me know if there's more ; Word Count : 6.9k A/N : The amount of research that I did for this one is crazy, but I also learned a lot so... building knowledge while writing fanfic is a plus! This request has been in my ask box for probably over a year and a half now, so... I hope that whoever requested it... I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was supposed to end WAY worse... But you all weren't ready to be sucker punched with sadness, so...) Request : Anonny : Pregnant with yandere leeknow/ yandere leeknow as dad Aaaangst

In The Beginning…

“Minho…” You called timidly from the bedroom, the way you called for him was about the same volume as when someone would talk regularly to a friend. When you spoke it was nothing more than a mouse-like whisper, always scared of what would happen if you raised your voice a little too much. Your doting boyfriend came into the bedroom, his hair tousled and wet from his shower, his eyes always seeming to carry a seductive look, dark and hungry for you at all times. “M-Minho…” You spoke his name again, this time more nervous now that he was standing in front of you. 

A chuckle built in his chest as he sauntered over to you, water wrinkled fingers that were warmer from the hot water he had been standing under, trailed across your cheek, one finger slipping under your chin to tilt your head up as he towered over you. “Mm? What do you need, darling? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I know that last night was quite… exerting for you…” He teased, and you felt your body heat up at the mention of the sinful activities you had taken part in the night before. 

“Uhm… n-no…” You stammered, blinking a few times as you seemed to lose your train of thought constantly when he was standing so close to you, looking at you as if you were a delicious meal that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “We… We didn’t use protection and… Usually you’d get me a… a plan B pill and… I just was wondering if you had gone and… and gotten it by now?” You were always so nervous around him, still not quite sure what made him tick. One second he was happy, or at least he seemed happy, and then the next he was going through an outburst that had you locking yourself in the bathroom until he came to the door apologizing and giving you the same spiel that he would never do it again. You hated when things got like that, you tried to avoid getting him to that point at all costs. 

“I decided you don’t need it anymore.” Minho spoke nonchalantly, as if he was the one who could make that decision for you. Your mouth opened to protest, and he stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything that would give him a reason to lash out. It’s like he wanted a reason, he wanted to go off on you, like he enjoyed seeing you scared, enjoyed being the hypocritical hero when he comforted you after making you cry. “Think about how wonderful it would be, to have a part of me growing inside of you… you’d be mine, all mine. You’ll never leave me…” His hands moved down to your stomach, as if there was already something in there. “I’ll pick up tests in about 2 weeks, I want to be right here when you take them and read the results.”

The First Signs…

Sitting at the dining room table, the chicken still in your mouth after you had taken a bite, an awful sensation washed over you. A sort of sickness that you couldn’t fight back, and an urge to throw up that you couldn’t breathe your way through as you usually would. “Mm’scuse me…” You mumbled through the palm of your hand that was clasped over your mouth as you ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, not even bothering to lock it as your body practically folded over the toilet. 

“Darling…” Minhos soft cooing from the other side of the door had goosebumps forming on your skin. When he cracked the door open, you could see a rather excited smile beginning to spread across his face. “Are you alright?” The juxtaposition of his expression and his words made your head reel. He looked too happy for someone who had just watched their girlfriend throw up all of their dinner. You nodded your head in response, making sure the contents of your stomach were cleared out before taking a few steps to the sink and washing your face and then rinsing your mouth out with water. “I thought you loved that chicken… Hmm, I wonder why it would make you sick all of a sudden…” 

He stepped into the bathroom fully now that you were done being ill, the nausea seeming to be completely gone now, as if it hadn’t been there at all. You knew exactly what he was insinuating, and while it might seem that way, you weren’t ready to accept that it could be what he was thinking, you didn’t want to accept it. “I think they just changed the frying oil or something…” You excused, dabbing at your lips with a bit of toilet paper before exiting the bathroom, Minho right in tow. You couldn’t be pregnant, that would make him all the possessive, all the more obsessive and overbearing. You wouldn’t be able to ever leave, not that you were able to do that now anyway, but it would be so much worse. You probably wouldn’t even be able to look at the windows without him lecturing you. No… pregnancy wasn’t an option for you. 

As you stood at the sink, getting a glass of water from the tap to wash out the taste, Minho stood behind you, his hands placed gently on your stomach. It was the softest he had ever touched you, but you knew that it wasn’t exactly for you, it was for the little demon spawn that he assumed was inside of you. “Does my baby not like the fried chicken? Hmm? Whatever you want, daddy will get it for you… As long as your mommy tells me.” How could he sound so sweet? It was gag inducing, how he pretended to be so caring when he was practically trying to hold you hostage using a potential child. 

The next days were the same, the sudden nausea not even having the common courtesy to creep up on you, instead, hitting you full force, barely allotting you enough time to run to the bathroom or the trash bin to vomit. It didn’t matter what you ate, each day at the same exact time, it was always the same. You could see the light in Minhos eyes growing brighter each time it happened, but you were in denial, and you quite liked being in that state. You didn’t want to accept that there was a very real, very high possibility that you were now carrying his spawn. “I must be coming down with something…” You mumbled, resting your head in the palm of your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept in days. It was another sign, another symptom, you knew that, but you hoped that Minho would overlook it. 

“Well it has been 2 weeks, more than that actually, my darling.” The smile that he was was nothing short of sinister as he ran to the bathroom and returned with two boxes in his hands. You knew this time was coming, you had been dreading it, hoping that you would get your period at any moment now. It never came though, and you were terrified of what the tests would undoubtedly reveal once you took them. “I’m sure taking them would answer a lot of your questions… Here…” He slid the boxes across the table, but you refused to even look at them, instead staring out the window, trying your best to block out everything that he was saying. You didn’t want to be pregnant, not by him at least. How could you even be happy bringing a child into this type of lifestyle? “Darling…” He murmured the pet name softly, but rough hands suddenly gripped your chin, turning your attention to him fully. “Take the tests. Now.” 

You huffed loudly, pushing yourself away from the table and snatching the boxes up before rushing to the bathroom. You knew well enough that if you didn’t get there in time and lock the door, he’d probably try to come in and watch you take them just to make sure you weren’t fabricating the results. It would have been a good idea, but you knew he’d notice. There was no way you could just run the test under the sink water and pretend they were negative. It’s not like he’d let you go if they were anyway, he’d just keep trying and trying… and once you started showing… He’d probably be more pissed off that you lied to him. 

“You’re taking quite a while in there… Do you need help?” The question was genuine, but you glared at the door, knowing that he wouldn’t see it. It was the only time you could make those kinds of faces at him without being reprimanded for it. The tests laid on the back of the toilet seat, and much to your dismay, the second line showed up faster and darker than you ever expected it to. “Fuck!” You thought to yourself as you unlocked the bathroom door and flung it open, slipping past him as he rushed in. He was too preoccupied with being excited over the tests to focus on you, at least for right now. All you wanted to do was sleep and hopefully wake up from the nightmare that you had been living in for the last 3 years. 

The First Trimester… 

There was no bond forming. For the most part, you tried to forget that you were pregnant at all. It was easier during this stage. Other than the nausea and the exhaustion and the slight pulling and pinching sensations you’d feel in your lower back and upper thighs, all things that you could write off as any other reason, you didn’t feel pregnant. You were still in denial, you didn’t want this. Minho wanted this, and he was the only one happy about it. This was the happiest you had seen him though, he was absolutely elated, but he was also overly protective, which was becoming a real pain in the ass. 

“I can get dressed on my own.” You muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to help you pull down your shirt after you had just put it on. “I really don’t like the hovering, it’s making me uncomfortable.” Were you allowed to be honest with him now? Would he excuse it as your hormones going crazy because of the baby? He wouldn’t yell at you, right? Not when you were in such a fragile state. He reached out further, grabbing your wrists, rather tightly, and pulled you towards him. Of course, he wouldn’t dare try to be so rough anywhere around your stomach, but everywhere else was still fair game. 

“You’re carrying my child, and as long as you are, I can hover as much as I like.” He hissed, and even though you didn’t like his tone, you were grateful that he wasn’t yelling. “I know you don’t want it. You’d probably be overjoyed if you miscarried. I won’t allow that to happen though, so just be good for me, let me help.” His expression immediately shifted, his head tilting to the side as the most innocent looking smile had his teeth flashing up at you. It was like whiplash, it made your head hurt. “So what would my babies like to eat today, hmm? Are you craving anything in particular?” He cooed, although his attention was still primarily focused on your stomach. 

Any other woman would want a man like him, a man that treated them this way and got this excited to find out they were pregnant. Any other woman could have him and all of his psychopathic tendencies. “I’m craving a nap.” You snapped, and you watched his nostrils flare out at your disobedient tone, but he didn’t say anything, instead getting off the bed and yanking the covers back for you, waiting for you to climb onto the mattress before carelessly throwing them back over your body. “Thank you.” You mumbled, rolling over onto your side so that your back was to him, tucking the covers around your chin and squeezing your eyes shut. It wasn’t just the raging hormones that tired you out, it was Minho too, him more than anything honestly. Living with him, well, no, not living, being stuck with him, was the most exhausting thing ever. 

“I’ll wake you up for your vitamins and for lunch.” He said sternly, more like a strict caregiver than the father of your unborn child. You hated him. You hated that he did this to you, that he chose you to be the object of all of his desires. Why did he choose you? He still hadn’t told you why, he just insisted that you were the one that he wanted. Now you were carrying his child, and you feared that you’d truly be stuck with him forever. What did you do to deserve that? 

The Second Trimester…

Most women would get an ultrasound at around 9 weeks. However, you had yours at 20 weeks. You didn’t go to a doctors office, instead, Minho had the doctors come to you. Even still, he didn’t want you leaving the house. Before the doctor was even allowed to see you, he had to sign an NDA, with Minhos reasoning being that he was an idol, and he didn’t want the public to know about his fiancées current condition. You still didn’t know when you had gotten engaged, but apparently it had happened at some point before the doctor's arrival. 

Seeing your baby on the screen made it impossible to deny that you truly were pregnant. It also made it hard for you to hate it as you during your entire first trimester. Was it truly the baby’s fault that their father was crazy? Did it’s fathers behavior make the baby inherently evil? No… of course it didn’t. The baby was still a part of you, and you were a good person. You wouldn’t allow your child to grow up to be like Minho. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said, pointing to the screen as if you’d understand what you were being shown, but Minho was mesmerized by what he was seeing, his jaw slacked in awe. 

“That’s my daughter… Our daughter? Really? Is she healthy?” It was Minho asking all the questions that most women in your position would be asking. You were too caught up in your own thoughts though. A baby girl, you were carrying his daughter. She’d be more like you, right? Maybe having a daughter would change the way he is, he’d become normal, a man that you could actually love and welcome having a family with. He wouldn’t want his own daughter to be with a man like himself, right? 

The doctor turned up the volume on the little tv, a rapid pulsing sound filled the room, both you and Minho were silent as you listened. “She’s healthy, very healthy.” The doctor said, smiling to both you and Minho. You were… happy. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the screen, watching the baby squirm around, and you couldn’t wait to be able to feel her moving beneath your skin. “I’ll print out the pictures and then be on my way. I’d like to make another appointment for next month though, make sure she continues growing the way she should. I also want some bloodwork from you…” He motioned towards you, and you swallowed thickly, looking at Minho who looked slightly annoyed at the doctor's pushiness. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong, we just like to make sure that there’s no underlying problems. Better to be safe, right?” 

His words had you tensing up, your hands moving down to your stomach, rubbing over the small swell that had begun to form as your daughter grew bigger. “Why… Why would there be underlying problems? What could be wrong?” You squeaked out, not wanting to look up at the doctor, worried that his expression would give you a silent answer, one that you were scared to know. Minho was still, like a statue, only his eyes moving between you and the doctor, but there was no answer, just a soft sigh and a gentle tapping against your hand to try to calm you. The gesture was supposed to make you feel better, but you heard Minhos teeth gritting together. 

“It’s just precautionary. This is your first appointment since you’ve gotten pregnant. It’s to make sure both you and the baby are healthy and that there are no problems now or in the future. From what I see though, you and your daughter are perfectly fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Your hand was held lightly by the doctor who offered you a reassuring smile, but before you could thank him, Minho was, quite rudely, ushering him out of the room and shutting the door. On the other side of the door, in the hallway, you could hear Minhos aggrivated voice, low enough that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you could feel it, reverberating through the walls and the floorboards. He was talking so fast that the doctor didn’t have a chance to speak, and before you knew it, the front door was slammed shut and then Minho was storming back into the bedroom. 

“Touching you… Holding your hand… Who the fuck is that guy?!” Minho growled as he shut the door behind himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the door. “You don’t need any more fucking doctors. You were doing just fine without them. There’s nothing else we need to know anyway. Our daughter is healthy and that’s what matters. There’s no need to have some touchy ass fuckwad coming in here, looking at you… Ugh!” You could see the heat radiating off of him, he was beyond angry, he was absolutely irate, and while you didn’t want to push him any further, what the doctor had said prompted you to speak up. 

“Min… Honey…” It was an attempt to soften him up, you never called him that, not unless you were trying to get him to agree to something. Most of the time it never worked, but it at least would keep him from going off as rashly as he would without the pet name. “What if there is a… a problem… I think we both should know. We don’t need to keep him as our doctor… We can find someone else… But I think the bloodwork is important.” You sat up on the bed, trying to get a better look at him, trying to read his expression, but he was completely blank. “Minho…” You tried to get his attention, unaware that you already had it fully and he was just deep in thought. 

“No…” His hand was held out, one finger up to silence you as a chuckle was huffed out of his parted lips, his breaths coming faster and faster as he pushed himself away from the door. “I know what you’re doing. I know what this is…” The pet name didn’t work, nothing would work, he was already angry as it was and you were simply making things worse. “You want him to come back… You want him to take you away from me. That’s what you want. I know you! You’ve wanted nothing but to leave since you’ve been with me! He can’t have my fucking daughter! And he sure as hell can’t have you!” He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and holding your face between his hands. It wasn’t exactly painful, maybe you were numb to the pain it might have caused at first, but now you just found it annoying. “What do I need to do to make you stay!?” He shouted, his breath fanning across your face with every word. It’s like he was using all of the air in his lungs to enunciate every syllable. 

“Minho, stop it.” You whispered, knowing that the wrong word, a wrong look, saying it in a way that he didn’t like, it would only have him spiraling deeper and he’d drag you right along with him. “Please… h-honey look at me… I’m not trying to leave you… I just want to know that me and the baby are healthy, that there’s nothing wrong. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us… I want her… Honey, I want a family with you…” Sure, you were really sugarcoating it to try to get him to calm down, but you also really needed to know that everything would be okay. The last thing you wanted was for something to happen to you and him blame your daughter for the rest of his life or vice versa. 

His hands dropped down to your shoulders, his body now shuddering, although you didn’t know if it was because he was about to cry or if he was just shaking with anger. It was always hard to gauge his reactions or how he was truly feeling. It had you on edge all the time, and you felt like a tiny rodent, cornered by a feral cat. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you…” He mumbled, his head hung low, his hair curtaining his face. “Stupid fucking doctor, putting that shit in your head, scaring my darling…” This wasn’t what you wanted, his anger once again shifted towards the doctor who was just trying to do his job. “Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you and our baby?” You shook your head, of course he wouldn’t let something happen to either of you, not because he cared, but because he couldn’t fathom the thought of not owning you anymore. “You’ll be just fine, darling. You’re overthinking what that jackass said.” And with that, it’s like all of the anger washed away, a sudden wave of calmness rinsing him clean of the negativity. “Let’s get something to eat. My girls are hungry, aren’t they?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before shifting off of you and off of the bed, grabbing your hand and carefully helping you up to your feet. The sudden shift had you feeling dizzy, but it was welcome, at least he wasn’t yelling at you. 

The Third Trimester… 

Something was wrong, although you weren’t sure what it was. The ongoing nausea, the headaches, the blurred vision, you knew there was a problem. All you could think of was the argument that you had almost 15 weeks ago, wanting to at least have bloodwork done to make sure you were okay, but of course Minho had denied you of the simple procedure. If anything happened to you, it would be his fault, but he wouldn’t look at it that way, no, it would be someone else’s fault, it always was whenever he fucked up. 

“Someone’s tired…” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom where you were still laying. It’s not that you were actually that tired, you just couldn’t move without feeling sick. When he pulled open the curtains, you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning loudly as the bright sun only amplified the raging headache you were already suffering through. “Sorry, darling. Can’t lay in bed all day. Gotta get you up and moving. Come on.” He yanked the covers back and his eyes landed on your feet which had become so swollen you could barely even fit them in your slippers anymore. “What happened?” He whispered, although there was a slight panic in his voice as he gently grabbed your ankle and lifted it, looking over the extremity for any signs of injury. 

“I think… I think…” You kept starting the sentence only to be left practically winded after only saying two words. “Problem…” You settled for one word, hoping that it would get your point across and that he’d take some kind of action. He blinked a few times, backing away from the bed, his hands running through his hair as he seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself. “Please…” You pleaded, your hands cradling your swollen stomach. If not to help you, at least to help your baby who he seemed to want more than anything. 

“Shut… Shut up! I’m thinking!” He screeched, suddenly pacing back and forth as his breaths came out sharply, sounding more like whistles as they came through pursed lips. “Why would you let this happen! What even… God dammit!” He shouted, his fist colliding with the wall in an act of frustration, and even though he was fully across the room, you jumped at the sudden act of violence. He would never hit you, no matter how mad he got he had never actually hit you, but when things got this bad, you always feared just how far he would go or how far gone he was. “What am I supposed to do?! Take you to the hospital?!” 

Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what he was supposed to do to keep both you and your daughter from potentially dying. “If I could just… have her… get her out… we could be… okay…” You said breathlessly, and he whipped around in your direction, his eyes wild and crazed. It truly seemed like he was losing his mind. “Min… I don’t want t-… to die… please…” You begged, the sudden onslaught of tears only making it harder to breathe. 

“Fuck! You think I want you to die!? You think I want that!?” He questioned, and soon his hands were back in his hair, tugging at the ends as he let out a loud scream. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it! It’s what you wanted to happen! You wanted to leave me so bad! You’d rather die than be with me!” He was once again blaming you, yelling at you for something that you didn’t even understand at the moment. You didn’t know what was happening, so why the hell was he attacking you for it? “Such a fucking bitch! God! Fuck! Get up!” You were being… belittled… insulted… cursed at for… dying? At least if you did die, you wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. You wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. But did you really want to leave your poor baby with someone like him? 

Getting up was a daunting task, it took you longer than it usually would just to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Every small movement made you feel like you had run a marathon, your breaths becoming more labored, your vision becoming spotty, and the urge to vomit became more of an oncoming threat as the bile from your otherwise empty stomach rose to your throat. There was no time to get to the bathroom, you weren’t even on your feet yet, and before you had any time to even warn Minho, you were doubled over, heaving up the acid that burned your throat on its way out. He watched, not coming close or helping you, but he watched, his lips parted and his eyes blinking rapidly as if what he was seeing wasn’t true. “Sorry…” The word was spoken in a single raspy breath, your head hung low with both shame, embarrassment, and pain. Your throat was scratchy now, and it felt like fire was being held against the back of it. Tears pricked your eyes and snot ran down your nose, stopping at your upper lip, and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe that away. 

“What happened…?” He asked, his voice once again soft, laced with the false tone of worry. It used to make you think he cared, but now you knew it was an act. It was all an act. “Let’s… Let’s go…” He said, his voice wavering. He truly didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to do this. It’s not like he had a choice though. You looked awful, like you were already standing at death's door, and that terrified him. He had seen you sick before, but he had never seen you like this. “C-Can you walk? Do you need… Uhm… Shit…” He was tripping over his words, but when he saw you try to get up on your own, he rushed over, his arm wrapping around you. 

Looking at you this close, he could see that your face was swollen too, and beads of sweat lingered on your forehead. “She hasn’t moved… Min… I’m- I’m scared…” You whimpered, and he pulled you closer to him, letting your body fall against his side, trying to take all of your weight as he walked you towards the front door. “Min…” You breathed out his name, your head falling against his shoulder. He hummed to let you know he heard you, grabbing everything he needed with one hand as he walked through your shared apartment. “If you have… to save any of us… save her… save the baby…” You wheezed, all of your weight falling against him, everything that he had been carrying was dropped immediately to catch you. 

“No… no no no! Stop talking like that! Stop it!” Minho shouted, his voice trembling from the sobs he tried to hold back. “I’m not losing either of you, dammit! I-…” He sniffled softly, and while your eyes had been closed the entire time, trying to block out the light that shone through the window in the living room, you could feel his eyes on you. “I love you… You know that, don’t you? I’m not… If anything happens…” The thought was stopped before he could get the words out, but you were stuck on the three words he had said prior. Love was such a strong emotion, you hadn’t felt loved the entire time you had been with him, and he had never said it before now either. Did the thought of you being gone forever make him change? If you did make it through, would he go back to the way he was before? Maybe death was the only escape… 

I’ll Make You Stay… 

There was no way the doctors would make him choose… It couldn’t be that serious. You were absolutely fine, right? He hadn’t noticed anything wrong until today… or were you just that good at hiding things from him? Why would you hide something like this from him? Were you afraid of him? Why were you scared of his love? He just loves you so much! What’s wrong with that? He wanted you to be with him forever, he wanted you to be his darling, why did you make it seem like that was so awful? He’d show you that you could be happy, that he could make you happy, you just had to stay with him, you had to stay. 

“Why can’t I go in?” Minho asked once again to the nurse who slipped out of the room. Each time he said it he was more irritated than the last. He just didn’t understand. What could be so wrong that he couldn’t be there for the birth of his daughter? Every time, the nurse would just sigh, getting more agitated with him. “I’ll just go in then. You can’t keep me from seeing her. That’s my wife, that’s my daughter! If you won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll just-“ 

The nurse cleared her throat, although it sounded more like she was groaning. He tried not to let it bother him the way it usually would. He had far better, far more important things to worry about than the bitchy attitude of the nurse. “She didn’t want me to tell you. I’m trying to respect her wishes. She wanted to be alone.” The nurse explained, but it only stirred up more questions in Minhos now overactive mind. What was the reason behind you wanting to go through this alone? Did he not have a say in being able to watch his daughter be born? It was unfair, and once everything was over with, he’d be having a talk with you about how rude and humiliating it was for him to sit out in the hallway while you were delivering his child. He opened his mouth, not even to speak, just to breathe, and the nurse started talking, as if she assumed he was just going to continue complaining. “Both of them are not well. The last thing I wanted to do was go against what could possibly be her last wish. Are you understanding now, sir?” 

Your… last wish? It sounded like you were dying… It couldn’t possibly be that bad… Is it? Why would you want to be alone during a time like this? How could you leave him this way? Do you not even care about his feelings? It’s like you want to make him miserable! All he wanted was to have a family with you, to make you stay with him forever, and now you’re trying to get away by dying!? You were so selfish! Why couldn’t you just be healthy?! He had done everything right. He made sure you ate and had your vitamins and did daily exercises and that you always got enough sleep. If anything happens to you and the baby… It would be your fault! It would all be your fault! 

“An early blood test would have shown that this was a possibility. It would have potentially kept this from happening. If she was getting proper appointments, this would have been caught before it got this bad. Who was her OB?” The nurse asked, her clipboard resting against her forearm, her pen held in her other hand, as if she was waiting for the information to jot down. The mention of your doctor had his mind pausing for a split second… This is why you needed the bloodwork done? Why had no one told him that back then? Why was he not informed of the risks that would come along if the bloodwork wasn’t done? This still wasn’t his fault though… No, the doctor should have talked to you and him more about the benefits of getting early bloodwork done. 

It was the doctors fault… If he hadn’t been so touchy with you, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him to come back and do the bloodwork. It was all the doctors fault, and if something were to happen to you or the baby… Minho would make sure that the doctor paid for it. He told the nurse the doctor's name, trying not to let his smile break through the mask of sadness that he was wearing, but it was hard. The thought of getting that guy to potentially lose his job, it was nice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little… overjoyed, knowing that if anything were to happen to you and the baby, it wouldn’t be in vain, at least the doctor will suffer as well. “I guess I’ll… wait out here…” He said, the frown once again returning to his face as he dropped down into the chair beside your door. It was still hard not being in there with you, knowing that so many people were looking at you, touching you… He felt like he was going to lose his mind, and the only way that he was keeping himself slightly sane was by constantly telling himself that he could potentially lose you and his daughter if those doctors didn’t help you. 

He was in and out of sleep the whole time, his head falling against the wall and his eyes drooping shut, only for them to shoot back open whenever an alarm would go off, looking up at the light above your door to make sure it wasn’t for your room before drifting back to sleep once more when he realized it wasn’t. It had been hours, he finally stopped counting after the seventh, when the door finally opened and one of the nurses, different from the one before, walked out. There were dark circles under her eyes, she looked frazzled and exhausted, but there was no urgency, there was no sadness… Was everything okay? Would he be able to keep you and his daughter? “Sir…” She started, and Minho sat up straight, his eyes hopeful as he looked up at the nurse. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, I don’t want you to get excited just yet… Although your wife and the baby are… alive… That doesn’t mean that things are… okay.” It was like all of the hope was drained from his body immediately, even after hearing that you were alive… How could you still not be okay? 

“Well… what’s wrong? What happened? I mean… I need some information here!” He was trying not to get worked up, but the way the nurse seemed to be beating around the bush was highly aggravating. For Christ's sake, he’s your boyfriend, the father of the child, and she was talking to him like he was some nobody. He deserves… No, he needs to know what happened! “How is she not okay? Is the baby okay? Come on, tell me something, dammit!” He didn’t care if she was tired, or if she was emotionally worn out after helping you. That’s her damn job, and part of it is telling him what the hell is going on. 

She sighed loudly, clearly not happy with the way that Minho was talking to her, but he didn’t really care for that either. He wasn’t even allowed in the damn room, the least she could do was tell him what had gone on while he was locked out in the hallway. “The mother had preeclampsia which advanced to class one HELLP, which I will not go into full detail about, a simple google search will tell you what it is, but I will say that she had the most severe case of HELLP that I have ever seen in my years of working here. We were at a point where we worried that we would have to choose whether she lived or the baby lived. She had to have blood transfusions before we could even deliver the baby, she was in the early stages of kidney failure, and while we were in the process of trying to help the mother, the baby went into respiratory distress. We had to do an emergency c-section, which wasn’t easy because we were worried about hemorrhaging, which did in fact happen. The baby is currently in the NICU, she is underweight, we have to do tests to check her platelet count, she’ll most likely be in the NICU for a couple of weeks, and that’s minimum, especially if her platelets aren’t normal. The mother needs to stay because we have to make sure she doesn’t have any other underlying health issues, and we need to monitor her closely because the first couple days after delivering a baby with HELLP syndrome could be fatal. So yes, the mother and the baby are alive… But they are in no way, shape or form, okay or healthy enough to come home anytime soon. Does that answer your questions, sir?” 

Minho didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t understand anything that had been said to him, all he knew was that it was bad and that you wouldn’t be going home with him. How could you let things get this bad? Why didn’t you tell him? Surely you must have felt ill or something when this was all going on? And that damn doctor… Why did he have to touch you? Why did he have to make him so angry? If he had just been a normal doctor, he would have been allowed to come back and do your bloodwork. This all could have been avoided! It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t! How was he supposed to know that something like this could happen?! He had never read anything about this online! He didn’t know something like this could happen! It wasn’t his fault! 

“Anyway…” The nurse spoke once more, taking Minhos silence as an opening. “She’s resting, they both are. There’s going to be doctors in and out of the room constantly, so, if you’d like to go in there, you can, but I wouldn’t expect to get any rest. If I were you, I’d honestly just go home, get some sleep, and come back in the afternoon. They’re not going anywhere, it’s going to be a long road ahead of the both of them… And you need to get as much rest as possible to prepare for it.” And with that, she walked away. He was left alone in the hallway with his thoughts, the faint sound of a heart monitor beeping just beyond the closed door to your room was the only sound he could really focus on. 

You were alive… You had stayed… You weren’t leaving him. He would have his family, and he would have it with you, his perfect darling. Nothing like this would ever happen again, he had his baby girl, and he had you. The two of you were all he needed. Once he had you and his baby back home, he’d make sure he never had to let you out of his sight again. You were going to stay with him, he would make you stay. That’s why he wanted the baby in the first place, and in the end, he still got exactly what he wanted. 

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𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘁𝘄𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝟮! ➞ 𝘀𝗸𝘇 𝗼𝘁𝟴

➞ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘁𝘄𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀, 𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗺 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 [ 𝗺! & 𝗳! 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 ], 𝘁𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗲, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮?, 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗺𝗼𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗲𝘁𝗰.

[ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲 ] - [ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘁𝘄𝗼 ]

after coming home hungry, requesting a meal from you, and watching you begin to make it, 𝗷𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴 pulls down both of your guys' pants for a quickie before dinner.

although you were still drowsy from sleep, 𝗵𝗮𝗻 shoves his fingers into you and starts to thrust them in and out of you.

once you told 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘅 how stressed you were, the first thing that came to mind was obviously to help you....by fingering you despite your pleas for him to stop. but, he was too invested with "helping" you.

riding 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻 the "correct way" so he can see your tits bounce and your pleasured expression.

𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻 having you on top, but still rutting into you from the bottom after you lost your top privileges [ according to him ].

before bed every night, 𝗷𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻 wishes you sweet dreams until his fingers tease your buds. he swears he does it in his sleep.

ROCK STAR ERA JEONGIN GUYS...??? anon you were so right..

𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘃𝗼𝗰𝗮𝗹!𝗷𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻 who moans into your ears when you verbally tease him and pinch his nipples while he pumps into you.

𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁! 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗯𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗶𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿 ♡

Bf!SKZ Texts

Prompt: Sending explicit questions

Hyung Line

employee discount

pairing: jeongin x gn!reader w. 1.5k genre: fluff, coffee shop au summary: you've been going to the same coffee shop ever since you moved to busan. you seem to be the favorite of the cute barista, jeongin, because he started giving you the employee discount. warnings: none

Moving to a new city was difficult. This much you figured out when you'd moved to Busan six months ago. Even with a job and an apartment, things seemed to still be stressful no matter how much you tried to settle in.

There were upsides to the move, though. Getting a coffee before work had seemed to slip into your routine as it did for many. Even if it would cost far less to make your favorite drink at home, it was a habit you weren't breaking any time soon. The atmosphere of a coffee shop was too pleasant to give up, and the coffee tasted marginally better.

It helped that there was this guy that worked there. The first time you'd seen him was the first time you were in the shop, so you were too busy getting yourself oriented to process just how beautiful he was. But every time you'd seen him since, you couldn't help but stare as he made your order.

His pretty smile whenever he saw you, the way his eyes would almost shut and make him look like a fox, was so endearing. He'd memorized your name by the second week of your attendance, and your regular order by three weeks. When you'd walk up to the register, he'd look like he was thinking really hard and guess a drink, sighing dramatically if he got it wrong.

Your days seemed to be noticeably worse on the days you'd get your morning drink and he wasn't there working. You knew that, of course, he was a man with a life and couldn't work every morning. But that didn't stop you from being bummed out about it. You'd yearn to see him almost all day, which made the next time you did that much sweeter.

Any friend you'd talked to since had gotten an earful about the cute barista you saw all the time. The day you learned his name, Jeongin, you might've typed it into your phone five hundred times in texts. For such a cute and endearing man, his name was equally amazing.

The way you obsessed over him almost made you feel like you were in school again. You could picture it: writing his name next to your own in the margins of your notebook with hearts around it. In truth, it was just a little barista crush. Maybe one day you'd shoot your shot, but it wasn't at the top of your priority list.

Maybe you were a little too blinded by love in the moment to notice, but the amount you were spending on coffee had gone down in the last few weeks. You didn't pinpoint the cause being from your coffee budget, so it surprised you when you'd finally figured out what was going on.

It was a day like most others. The late spring warmth was in the air, getting your final taste of the season before summer began. Just like you had every day, you got ready for work and went to the coffee shop.

Stepping inside hit you with the smell of fresh coffee grounds. The soft ambient music playing set you almost instantly into a state of comfort as you looked behind the bar to see a familiar figure. He was looking intently down at the latte art he was pouring out, so you couldn't see his face. You knew it was Jeongin.

Staring at him made you realize just how soft his hair looked. Maybe he bought a new conditioner? Either way, you stepped closer to the counter and watched as his steady hands carefully poured the white cream into the coffee mug. When you really squinted, you could make out that he was making a cute little bear face.

Just as he had finished the design and slid the mug out, calling out the customer's name, he looked up at you and grinned. You felt your stomach stir with butterflies as your eyes met. He waved a little hello as he walked with you over to the register.

"Good morning, Jeongin," You said as you smiled, your eyes looking over his name tag. The writing on it looked done by hand, and it made you wonder if it was his handwriting.

Jeongin briefly looked down at the register, tapping on the screen a few times before looking up at you again. "Good morning, y/n. How are you?"

"I'm not so bad," You shrugged, "Same as always, I guess. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good, actually! I'm moving into a new apartment soon. Got the contract all set and the deposit made," Jeongin explained, "Kind of exciting."

A flurry of questions spun through your head. You took a moment before asking, "A new apartment? Will you still be here in Busan, making coffee?"

Jeongin waved his hand, "Yeah, I'll still be around, don't worry. The new place will actually be closer to the shop," He grinned and looked you in the eye, "I'm not leaving you behind."

Your face flushed a little, but you sighed a little out of relief. "That's good to hear, I wouldn't trust anyone else to make my drink like you do."

Jeongin laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to be a barista forever.. I hope you'll find a way to cope with that."

"Don't remind me," You said wistfully, "What will I ever do without your expertise before I go to work?"

You could see him flash a look for a moment, as if he had something to say, before stopping and sighing. "I guess we'll see."

Deciding not to pry, you continued on. "Well, I guess you'll need to make my drink today to make me forget that you won't work here one day."

"I can do that," Jeongin tapped the register screen a few more times before you saw your order pop up on the small screen. You took out your card and looked up at the balance before watching it change as he pressed a button.

The price had fallen to half of what it originally showed as. Jeongin looked up at you like everything was normal, but your face only reflected confusion. Looking from the price and back to him a few times, you finally spoke up. "Wait, what did you just do?"

"Hm?" Jeongin furrowed his brows for a second, "What do you mean?"

"The price, it.." You pointed at it, your voice trailing off into nothingness. You weren't crazy, right? "What did you do to it?"

Jeongin paused for a few seconds before chuckling softly to himself. "You just now noticed?" You stared at him blankly until he continued, "I've been giving you my employee discount for like, three weeks."

You were dumbfounded, to say the least. You'd noticed you had a little more money than you expected to, but you hadn't put the pieces together as to why that was. "Why would you do that?" You asked.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and looked down for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe you're my favorite customer."

The outright admission took you by surprise and you couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face in response. "Am I really?"

"What if you are?" He looked up again and met your eyes. His voice sounded a little more confident, but you could notice a slight shake in the end.

You didn't really know what to do with that information. It would certainly explain why he'd done it, but that opened up a whole new avenue of questions. You simply inserted your card to pay for the drink, looking up at him. "That would be.. nice."

His eyes looked uncertain. You could see that he was looking at you for something, but it wasn't clear what it was. He took a breath and watched the transaction go through. He opened his mouth for a second to say something before stopping.

Leaving you hanging, Jeongin picked out the cup for your drink, writing on the order details and beginning to make it at his work station. Still confused, you decided to just watch him work as always. He was strangely precise in everything he did, always making your drinks look pretty and taste great.

You got a little lost in watching his hands work that he was pushing your drink out to you before you knew it. You snapped back into reality, seeing that he had a smile on his face as you picked up the cup with your drink. Taking a sip, you smiled at the taste. Perfect.

"Have a good day, y/n." Jeongin said as he wiped down his work station and finally turned away from you. You were positively bursting with questions but the interaction seemed to abruptly be over, so you walked towards the door while taking another sip.

As you went to take a drink, you noticed writing under your finger that seemed out of place. Moving your hand, you looked at the words in sharpie and couldn't help but laugh. Your heart stirred, turning back at Jeongin, who was totally looking back at you.

don't get me fired 01-1234-5678