Han x reader (smut, angst, fluff)
synopsis: two months had passed, and you were finally starting to slowly put Han behind you and get your life back on track—until the doorbell rang that day. seeing him standing on your doorstep was the last thing you ever expected, but in the hours to come, you’d both find yourselves in a completely different, and far happier, place than where you were right now. (2,7k words)
warnings: unprotected sex; fingering; oral sex (f!receiving); praising; fluff; overstimulation; happy ending
author’s note: happy belated birthday to @b4echo (cho) love you, babes!!💗
also taglist open! comment under this post to join.
Nearly two months had passed, yet you were still trapped in the aftermath of that night. Han walking out on you, his parting words, and the moments you shared just before it all crumbled constantly revolved in your mind, haunting you the moment you closed your eyes.
But somehow, you were moving on with your life, pushing through the days even when it felt impossible. One day, just as you began to notice that spending time with your friends and family was actually helping you forget him, clear your mind, and heal, the doorbell rang. You weren’t expecting anyone, so after a brief hesitation, you pulled the door open—only to find the absolute last person you ever could have imagined standing there.
The person standing in front of you was nothing like the Han you used to know. Instead, he looked totally drained, fed up with life, his eyes puffy and tired. Just as you were finally starting to piece yourself back together, he looked completely broken—shattered in the exact same way you had been when he first walked out on you.
“Han? What are you doing here?” you asked, unable to hide the confusion and disbelief in your voice.
“Can we talk inside… please?” His voice cracked, barely a whisper. Looking straight into your eyes, he appeared so utterly broken that had you refused, he looked ready to drop to his knees and plead.
Saying nothing, you nudged the door open a bit wider, giving him a quiet nod to step inside.
Han brushed past you and walked into the living room, the scent of his cologne serving as a sharp reminder that he once knew your home like the back of his hand.
With a faint shake of your head, you followed him into the room. He waited for you before sitting down. Leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees with his legs slightly apart, he kept his eyes glued to the floor, as if studying the pattern of the rug though it felt more like an effort to avoid looking into your eyes.
You gave a soft clear of your throat to break the heavy silence. “Yes, Han?”
Han finally lifted his head, his gaze locking onto yours. A sudden shiver ran down your spine at the exact moment your eyes met. Every single memory you’d been fighting so hard to put behind you was right there again, flashing behind your eyelids.
He seemed to finally find his voice, clearing his throat quietly before he spoke. “I couldn't do it.” He paused for a moment. “I thought the right call was to stop pushing this relationship forward, but I was wrong—so completely wrong. I thought all I wanted was something casual, but I messed up. I can’t do this without you. These last two months have been nothing short of torture for me. Every single day, every minute, every moment is spent thinking about you. I can't write songs, I can't focus on anything else. I can't get you out of my head.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued. “Every single moment we spent together is still stuck in my head, and every time I think about them, I keep asking myself how I could have been so stupid to lose you. The look on your face the exact second I said those words to you… I can't shake it from my mind. I am so deeply sorry, Y/N… I regret it so, so much, more than anything.”
You shook your head slightly. “There's no need to apologize. This was our deal from day one, and I'm the one who messed it up. I'm the one who owes you an apology. I threw our agreement out the window, and I'm the reason we're both in this situation—”
Han cut you off with a sharp intake of breath. “I fell in love with you… don’t you understand?”
“What?” You stared at him in disbelief.
“I made the biggest mistake of my life the day I walked out and left you here. I thought love wasn't what I needed, and it took me so long to realize just how deeply in love with you I really am.” Rising from his seat, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, and took your hands in a tight grip. “Can you ever forgive me? Will you give me one more chance? I swear I’ll do right by you this time. Two months ago will be the last time I ever make you cry. Can you trust me—“
Cutting him off mid-sentence, you grabbed his face and crashed your lips against his. Han froze in surprise for a fraction of a second, but instantly responded to the kiss, pulling you closer. Your hand snakes to the back of his neck, and you swear you can hear him let out a small whine. He tastes like home, familiar and safe.
The two of you quickly find your rhythm, the room filling with the sounds of your contentment. You’re kissing the man you’re in love with again, after two months. Your heart is beating so fast, but you’re loving every second of it. One of his hands finds your jaw, deepening the kiss. Your free hand tugs his shirt, guiding him to lie above you.
“I love you so much…” he pulls back for a moment, your foreheads touching.
“I love you too.” You whisper back.
A giggle escapes you as you gently brush your fingers against his cheek, and that was the last tender moment. Almost like a switch flipped on, his lips crash into yours, and his hands are everywhere. Your jaw, your waist, your hips are all tingling from his touch. A moment later, he’s slotting himself between your legs. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.
He pulls away to slide his hands under your shirt and gently pulls it over your head. His hands cup your jaw as he looks at you deeply. You feel like he’s staring into your soul. “You’re sure about this, right?” he asked, his voice careful and hoarse.
You nod slowly. “Yes, I’m sure.” You say, your voice low and shaky in desperation.
Without hesitation, his mouth is on your neck, kissing and nipping at the tender skin. You let out a moan and buck into him. You take the hem of his shirt and pull it up, and he kneels to shed it in one smooth motion.
Your jeans go next. He unzips them and slides them off, quickly but not too roughly. His hands grip your thighs, and he lets out a groan. “I missed you so much…” he sighs, placing kisses on your soft skin.
You can feel your heart beating even faster. Your hands find the button on his jeans, gesturing him to take his pants off. He stands up quickly and discards them on somewhere on the floor, scrambling back on top of you in only a few seconds. He’s kissing you again, his tongue sliding against yours, one hand grips your waist, the other your neck. He works his way down, quickly but not rushed, until he’s kissing and sucking at the skin just above your breast. Your skin burns with every nip, every suck.
“Han…” you whine. He looks up at you as he pulls down the front of your shirt to expose the lace underneath. His hands find your breast. Your fingers tug at his hair, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan.
“Fuck—“ he mutters under his breath, lifting your top off and unclipping your bra with one hand.
He works his way down from your breasts, down your stomach, and stops right below your navel. Your stomach fills with need, you moan his name again, feeling impatient, eager.
His lips place soft kisses on your panties, the only layer before you’re completely bare for him. He licks one stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into it. You shudder and buck your hips, chasing more. He hooks his fingers around the fabric and slides them off your thighs, torturingly slow.
Before you could whine in protest, he spreads your thighs open and ravishing you. His tongue is inside you for a moment, and then it makes circles on your clit.
“Fuck, Han—“ you cry out.
His saliva is mixing with your slick, and you can feel it everywhere, on his chin, your thighs, pooling underneath you. “I missed this… I missed your taste so damn much—fuck,” he whispers with every lick of your folds. The sounds you hear are obscene, you can already feel the knot in your stomach tightening.
You’re leaking everywhere, and he’s fucking it back into you with his tongue. His thumb is circling your clit, and your skin starts to tingle. Your moans are like music to his ears that he could listen to till his last breath. Your legs are trembling. Every time you pull his hair, he lets out another moan, the vibration going straight to your nub.
You cry out when he slides two fingers inside of you, curling perfectly against your walls. “Still so fucking tight… perfect.” he mutters. His lips lock around your clit and he sucks hard. The heat in your belly gets hotter, climbing higher. He grips your thighs with his free hand to keep you open, and you’re screaming his name.
“Han—don’t stop, please—“ you moan as he sucks harder.
“Let it go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes before entering a third, and fucking you harder.
You’re pushing him harder against you, moaning uncontrollably.
He sucks your clit, and you can feel it. “Oh my—fuck—“ you moan loud, your thighs locking around his head. Your body’s on fire, and you’re coming all over his face. He fucks you through it with his fingers, caressing your bud with his tongue as you orgasm crashes over you.
He licks up every last drop, like he can’t get enough. Your breathing slows, and you just stare down at him with a satisfied smile. He licks you from the entrance to your clit one last time before making his way back up to you. He smiles back as he brushes sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. Your hands cup his cheeks, and you bring him down for a messy kiss.
Without breaking the kiss, he presses you down into the cushions with his body. He holds you there, trembling, his chest heaving as he tries to steady himself. His eyes find yours, dark and glassy, hair falling across his forehead.
“I need to be inside you, right now.” He rasps, his voice wrecked.
With him taking off the last piece of clothing on him, he finally pushes forward. The stretch is slow and overwhelming, pulling a cry from both of you as he sinks into your heat.
The sound that leaves you is soft, shivering, filling the quiet space between you. He answers with a groan that rumbles deep in his chest, his grip on your hand tightening like he needs the anchor. He lets you feel each second, each shift, each connection, until your body is arching to meet him, until you’re both trembling with the sheer intensity of it.
Your body adjusts to him gradually, every slow push and pull winding tighter through your chest. It’s not just physical anymore—it’s emotional, overwhelming in its intimacy. Every time his hips rock into yours, every sound he makes, every way his eyes linger on you, it feels like a vow.
You gasp softly when the rhythm steadies, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders. “Han,” you whisper, the name breaking apart on your tongue.
He groans in answer, kissing you again, swallowing the sound like he can’t get enough. “God, you’re perfect,” he breathes, and the way his voice trembles makes your heart ache.
The tenderness of it is unbearable—the warmth, the way his lips brush your skin between each kiss, the way his hand never leaves yours. But the longer it goes on, the more the hunger grows. Every slow thrust deepens, pulling sharper sounds from you, making his breath rougher, heavier.
He starts to lose his careful, steady pace, his hips pressing harder, faster, as though the control he clung to is unraveling in your hands. You feel it in the way his body tenses above you, in the way his groans grow louder, needier, spilling against your ear.
“Han… don’t hold back,” you whisper, pulling him closer, wrapping your legs tighter around him encouragingly.
The last shred of restraint snaps. His pace grows urgent, each movement deeper, sharper, pulling louder sounds from you both. The room fills with it—the creak of the couch, the slap of skin, the ragged gasps that tumble from your mouths between frantic kisses.
He buries his face against your neck, groaning with each thrust, and the sound wrecks you—desperate, unguarded, raw. Your fingers clutch at his back, dragging, holding, pulling him closer like you could fuse yourselves together. Your moans grow louder, unrestrained, your body meeting his with just as much urgency.
His name spills from your lips again and again, each time sharper, more desperate. And every time, he answers with a broken sound, like hearing it is the only thing keeping him grounded. His fingers finding your clit, circling it, making you arch your back toward him even more while you let out a moan against his ear.
“Please—please, don’t stop—“ you beg, the words spilling out, shaking.
“I won’t—fuck—“ he growls into your skin, his thrusts harder now, chasing the edge neither of you can resist any longer.
He groans against your throat, the sound ragged, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his rhythm steady. “I’m so close, baby—shit,” he gasps, his hand squeezing yours so tightly it almost hurts.
Your body answers for you, trembling beneath him, your breaths breaking into small, desperate sounds. Every movement drags another wave of sensation through you, deeper and more intense, until your thoughts blur and all that exists is him—his weight, his voice, his warmth flooding every part of you.
And then your second orgasm crashes over you.
Your body arches, the tension snapping in a rush of heat that leaves you gasping, crying out his name like it’s the only word you’ve ever known. The sensation floods through you, sharp and overwhelming, making your whole body quake beneath him.
He follows instantly, the sound he makes wrecked and raw, his hips driving hard once, twice, before he groans loudly against your throat, his body shuddering with release. The grip of his hand in yours tightens painfully sweet, like he needs to hold onto you or he’ll break apart completely.
He collapses against you, chest heaving, his face buried in your shoulder. Your own breaths come ragged, mingling; your fingers are now tangled in his hair, holding him there as if you could anchor both of you back to Earth. For a long moment, the only sound is your breathing, shaky and uneven, your hearts racing in sync.
Then his eyes find yours, tender and disbelieving. “You were perfect,” after a brief pause, he continued. “I’ll never walk away from you again, and you'll never have to question where we stand. I’ll make sure you learn to trust me with your whole heart.”
“I already know I can trust you, Han. Now it’s just… a relief to know these feelings aren't one-sided, to be sure that you love me too.” You muttered with a soft, small smile on your lips.
“I do, and I will till my last breath.” He said, his voice steady and full of reassurance.
With a soft smile, you caress his cheek before pressing your lips against his. His grip tightens, a content sigh slipping from him as his body relaxes completely. And soon enough, wrapped in his warmth, with his reassuring words still echoing faintly in your mind, you drift into sleep together.
let me know your thoughts about the fic in the comments below, thanks for reading :)
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